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God of Grinding

In the vast universe of online gaming, one game stands out - ‘The Old Quest’. It’s a world where the grind never ends, and the concept of a ‘max level’ is merely a myth. Enter our protagonist, an ordinary gamer with an extraordinary determination. His obsession? To reach heights never before seen in the game. His relentless dedication leads him to a level so high, it shakes the very foundations of ‘The Old Quest’. But just when he thinks he’s reached the summit, the game takes a shocking turn. A message from the developers and a new window that reads ‘Become a god race’ flips his world upside down. ‘God of Grinding’ is an epic tale of perseverance, power, and the unexpected consequences of success. It’s a journey through the digital realm that asks one question - what happens when a gamer becomes a god?

Awiones · Games
Not enough ratings
147 Chs

The dungeon that he knew.

The cavernous hall continued to stretch before them, a seemingly endless maw of oppressive magic that seemed to devour the very light. Each step echoed with a hollow thud, the only sound besides the rhythmic clink of steel against bone. Skeletons, their empty sockets glowing with an eerie green luminescence, rose from the ground with monotonous regularity, each still marked by the spectral sigil of their weakness: [Level 1].

Alex dispatched them with practiced ease, his movements a blur of precise strikes honed by countless hours in a different reality. The dagger he held, a tangible echo of The Old Quest, felt strangely familiar in his hand, a bridge between two worlds.

Yet, as they ventured deeper, a subtle shift began to ripple through the monotony. The once predictable attacks of the skeletons seemed to gain a hint of… urgency. Their movements, though still clumsy and slow, held a newfound desperation, a silent plea for their continued existence.

And then, the sigil above their heads changed.

A single [Level 5] skeleton rose from the ground, its bony frame slightly larger, its movements a fraction faster. A tremor of unease ran through Alex, a stark contrast to the nonchalant ease with which he had dispatched the Level 1s.

"Level 5," he muttered, the words tasting faintly metallic on his tongue. The increase in difficulty was noticeable, their attacks marginally faster, their strikes carrying a hint more force. Yet, they remained predictable, their patterns etched into his very being.

Amelia, a warrior born of this world, fought with a practiced grace that mirrored his own efficiency. However, a flicker of concern flickered in her eyes as she observed the subtle change in their skeletal adversaries.

"They seem… different," she remarked, her voice barely a whisper over the clang of steel.

Alex wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, the adrenaline a dull echo compared to the battles he once craved. "They are. But still, within the realm of manageable."

"Manageable?" Amelia scoffed, her voice laced with a hint of unease. "These creatures may not be the strongest, but their numbers are vast. And this place… it grows stranger with each step. The air itself feels heavy, charged with a malevolent energy."

Alex couldn't disagree. The oppressive atmosphere, the cryptic warnings of the villagers, and the unsettling presence of the level indicators – it all pointed to a darkness far deeper than these skeletal pawns.

They delved deeper, the air growing colder with each passing step. The once scattered Level 5 skeletons coalesced into larger groups, their attacks a relentless tide. But even these "hordes" posed a moderate challenge. Alex and Amelia, their movements a well-rehearsed dance of steel and shadow, cut through them with practiced efficiency.

Skeletons continued to rise, their empty sockets glowing with an ever-eerie green light. The spectral sigils above their heads pulsed with a chilling luminescence, their numbers escalating with each encounter: [Level 7], [Level 8], [Level 10]. The increase in difficulty was undeniable. Their attacks were faster, stronger, their movements less predictable. Yet, Alex, fueled by a strange mix of fear and grim satisfaction, fought with an almost inhuman efficiency. His years spent battling in The Old Quest had ingrained these patterns into his very being. The dagger, a tangible echo of his past life, became an extension of his will, a blur of precise strikes that danced around the skeletal onslaught.

Amelia, a warrior forged in the fires of this world, fought with unwavering determination. Her sword, a beacon of defiance in the oppressive darkness, cleaved through the skeletal ranks with practiced grace. However, the concern in her eyes deepened with each passing level.

"These… things are growing stronger," she panted, her voice barely a whisper over the clang of steel. "This isn't right. This progression… it feels unnatural."

Alex wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, the adrenaline a dull echo compared to the exhilaration he once craved. "They are. But we've faced worse in The Old… I mean, in our training." The fabricated explanation felt hollow even to his own ears.

"The Old what?" Amelia's sharp gaze pierced through him, her voice laced with suspicion.

Alex faltered, the carefully constructed facade threatening to crumble. He knew he couldn't keep hiding the truth for much longer. But before he could respond, a tremor shook the cavern, and the very air around them crackled with an unnatural energy.

From the inky depths ahead, a monstrous silhouette emerged. It was a skeletal figure, towering over its brethren, its empty sockets glowing with an unholy crimson light. Above its head, a pulsating sigil burned with an ominous finality: [Level 25].

The air grew deathly still. This was no longer a manageable challenge. This was a predator, a guardian of the deeper levels, a creature unlike anything they had faced before. It radiated a palpable aura of power, a swirling vortex of darkness that sent shivers down their spines. This wasn't just a powerful enemy; it was a harbinger of something far more sinister lurking within the dungeon's depths. The true test had arrived, and the charade was over. The battle for survival had just begun.

Alex, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, gripped his dagger tighter. He knew this was no longer a fight they could dance through with practiced ease. This was a battle for survival.

Amelia, however, seemed unfazed by the overwhelming power before them. Her grip tightened around her sword, and a steely glint entered her eyes. It was as if a switch had flipped within her, her movements suddenly imbued with a newfound grace and purpose.

Without a word, she launched into a flurry of attacks, her sword a blur of silver against the darkness. It wasn't just swordsmanship; it was a dance, a lethal ballet honed through years of rigorous training. Each swing, each parry, flowed with an effortless precision that belied the raw power behind them.

The Level 25 skeleton, surprised by the sudden aggression, stumbled back a step. Its attacks, though powerful, became clumsy against Amelia's whirlwind of steel. She weaved through its blows with an almost supernatural agility, her movements seemingly anticipating the creature's every move.

Alex watched in awe, a spark of hope igniting within him. He had seen Amelia fight before, but never with such raw, focused power. It was as if some hidden potential within her had been unlocked, a warrior's instinct awakened by the gravity of the situation.

He joined the fray, his own movements fueled by a newfound determination. The Level 25 skeleton, caught between their relentless attacks, roared in frustration. The cavern echoed with the clang of steel against bone, the sparks dancing like fireflies in the oppressive darkness.

Despite Amelia's newfound prowess, the battle remained a desperate struggle. The Level 25 skeleton, though seemingly surprised by her skill, was a force of immense power. Its blows, when they landed, carried the weight of a battering ram, threatening to shatter their defenses.

But Amelia, fueled by an unwavering resolve, refused to yield. She fought with the ferocity of a cornered beast, her movements a whirlwind of defiance against the encroaching darkness.

The battle raged on, a brutal dance of steel and bone in the heart of the oppressive dungeon. The outcome hung in the balance, the fate of their journey resting on the edge of a single blow.

Clank! The cavern echoed with the clang of steel against bone, a brutal symphony of violence that seemed to shake the very foundation of the dungeon. The Level 25 skeleton, enraged by Amelia's relentless assault, unleashed its full fury. Its crimson eyes glowed with an unholy intensity, and its movements gained a terrifying speed.

Amelia, despite her newfound prowess, struggled to keep pace. The skeleton's attacks, once clumsy and predictable, became a whirlwind of bone and shadow. She parried blow after blow, her movements a blur of desperation as she danced on the precipice of exhaustion.

Alex, his own reserves dwindling, fought with a renewed ferocity. He knew they couldn't hold out much longer. The Level 25 skeleton was a force of nature, its power seemingly limitless.

With a bone-shattering blow, the skeleton sent Amelia flying, her sword clattering to the ground several meters away. She landed hard, gasping for breath, her vision blurring at the edges.

Panic threatened to consume Alex, but the sight of Amelia's fallen form steeled his resolve. He couldn't let her sacrifice be in vain. With a guttural roar, he lunged at the skeleton, his dagger a desperate beacon of defiance.

The creature turned its attention to him, its crimson eyes burning with malevolent glee. It raised a skeletal hand, its claws glinting in the dim light, ready to deliver the final blow.

But just as the blow descended, a surge of energy erupted from Amelia. With a superhuman effort, she lunged forward, her sword singing through the air. It met the skeleton's claws in a shower of sparks, the impact sending both combatants flying back.

They lay sprawled amidst the carnage, surrounded by the shattered remnants of the fallen skeletons. The air hung heavy with the scent of blood and sweat; the silence broken only by their ragged breaths.

The Level 25 skeleton, though wounded, rose again, its crimson eyes blazing with renewed fury. But before it could attack, it faltered. Its movements slowed, its dark aura flickering erratically.

With a final, guttural roar, the creature crumbled to dust, leaving behind nothing but an empty socket where its malevolent eyes once burned.

Exhausted and battered, Alex and Amelia slumped against the cold stone wall, the weight of the battle pressing down on them like a physical force. They had survived, but the victory tasted like ash in their mouths.

"Hahh…" Alex panted, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. Sweat dripped down his brow, stinging his eyes as he surveyed the carnage around them. The cavern floor was littered with the shattered remnants of skeletons, their bones a stark reminder of the brutal battle they had just endured.

"Hahh…" Amelia echoed, her voice barely a whisper. She slumped against the cold stone wall, her sword clattering to the ground with a tired clang. Her armor, once pristine, was now scratched and dented, a testament to the ferocity of the fight.

"I still stage one tho…" Alex muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. He looked at the spectral sigil that had pulsed above the Level 25 skeleton, a stark reminder of the power they had just faced. It felt surreal. Even in The Old Quest, he had never encountered an enemy this strong in the early stages.

Amelia chuckled weakly, a humorless sound that echoed in the cavernous hall. "Really? This is a long dungeon… no wonder it's an A-Class."

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the battle pressing down on them like a physical force. The oppressive magic that had clung to the air seemed to have dissipated somewhat, replaced by a heavy silence that hung thick in the aftermath.

The oppressive silence that hung heavy in the aftermath felt like a physical weight, pressing down upon them with an almost tangible force. Alex, his chest heaving with each ragged breath, pushed himself off the cold stone wall. As he did, a strange sensation washed over him, a prickling feeling like a thousand unseen needles that sent shivers down his spine.

"What happened?" Amelia rasped, her voice barely a whisper in the echoing cavern.

Alex frowned, the feeling intensifying. He took a tentative step forward, then another, his eyes scanning the cavern floor. The sensation grew stronger, a localized distortion in the air that seemed to emanate from a specific point.

Without warning, the ground beneath him gave way. He plummeted into the darkness, a startled cry escaping his lips.

"Alex!" Amelia cried out, scrambling to the edge of the sudden opening. She peered down into the inky blackness, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and confusion. It felt like a trap, a hidden pitfall sprung upon them after the grueling battle. "Sh*t, what should I do now?"

With a flash of inspiration, Amelia grabbed a vial from her pouch, a concoction she'd acquired earlier with an unknown purpose. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled the vial down the opening, hoping it might offer some form of aid to Alex in his descent.

The fall was long and disorienting, the air rushing past him in a chilling whoosh. Finally, with a bone-jarring thud, he landed on the hard granite.

"Ackkk! My ass!" he exclaimed, the impact momentarily stealing his breath.

He opened his eyes, and a sight unlike anything he'd encountered in the dungeon unfolded before him. A spacious chamber, far grander than anything they had seen thus far, materialized into view. Golden tapestries adorned the walls, opulent furniture gleamed in the soft light of magical lamps, and mountains of gold coins shimmered in the center of the room. It was a scene of unimaginable wealth and luxury.

"Master Acomalaka, where you been… are you still grinding?" a familiar voice called out from behind him.

Alex whirled around, his eyes widening in disbelief. Standing before him, clad in a pristine maid uniform, was Frey, his loyal companion from The Old Quest.

"Frey?" Alex stammered, his voice thick with confusion. "What… how… where are we?"

"What do you mean 'where are we?' This is your dungeon, Master Acomalaka," Frey chirped, her voice laced with a hint of confusion.

"Y-Yeah... I know, I have a dungeon in The Old Quest for an easy way to farm money... did you really come with me, when I go into this world?"

Frey tilted her head, her brow furrowing in genuine puzzlement. "Huh... you seem to be grinding items a bit too much, Master. I don't know what you're talking about? I've always been here, and nothing has changed."

A cold dread began to creep into Alex's stomach. There were two possibilities, both equally unsettling. Either Frey was completely oblivious to the fact that they had somehow crossed over into another world, or perhaps, even more disturbingly, this world was still The Old Quest, and it was Alex himself who had been transported, bringing his real soul with him. The implications of the latter were staggering. Did that mean his entire life in this world, his memories, his relationships, were all fabricated within the confines of a digital realm? His mind reeled, the lines between reality and the game blurring into an unsettling haze.

A cold dread gnawed at Alex's insides. Frey's innocent words echoed in his mind, each syllable a hammer blow against the fragile foundation of his reality. "This is your dungeon, Master Acomalaka." His dungeon. The words held a horrifying new meaning. Was this truly his creation, a digital construct brought to horrifying life? Or was he a mere player, trapped within the confines of his own twisted game?

His thoughts were interrupted by Frey's return, a polished wooden tray held aloft. "Master, here's your console. You left it in your room."

The console, a sleek, metallic box, landed on the table with a soft thud. Alex stared at it, a morbid fascination pulling him towards it. This unassuming device, once a mere tool for managing his digital realm, now held the key to unraveling the terrifying truth.

Hesitantly, he reached out and switched it on. The screen flickered to life, displaying a familiar interface, a digital map of his dungeon sprawling across the display. But a new feature caught his eye – a small, blinking icon in the corner, depicting a single, active camera feed.

Right… this is my console, it's the fastest way to grind money, by creating a death trap for adventurers. It's possible to be a dungeon master while you are not the monster itself, but well… I was an exception, I could create the dungeon since I broke the record.

With a trembling finger, he clicked on the icon. The screen flickered, and a live image materialized – the cavern entrance, bathed in the dim glow of the magical lamps. And there, emerging from the darkness, was Amelia.

She looked weary, her movements stiff with exhaustion, but she was alive. Relief washed over Alex, a tidal wave that threatened to drown his burgeoning anxieties. She was safe.

But as he watched her leave the dungeon, a new wave of dread crashed over him. This wasn't just any dungeon. It was his creation, a place he'd meticulously crafted for the sole purpose of grinding, of amassing wealth and power within the confines of The Old Quest. Now, it had become a horrifying reality, a death trap for the unsuspecting Amelia.

He had to stop this. He had to shut down the dungeon before it claimed another life, before it revealed the horrifying truth of his existence to the world. His fingers flew across the console, navigating the intricate control panel with a practiced ease born from countless hours spent managing his digital domain.

Frey's brow furrowed in confusion as she watched Alex frantically manipulate the console. The once vibrant chamber began to shimmer and distort, the opulent furnishings dissolving into shimmering motes of light.

"Why you turned off the monster spawn, master?" she inquired, concern lacing her voice. "Master, what are you doing?"

Alex, his face etched with a mixture of determination and dread, barely glanced up from the console. "I have to shut this down, Frey. It's… it's become too dangerous."

"Dangerous? But why? This is your dungeon, your source of—"

"It's different now," Alex interrupted, his voice tight with a barely concealed horror. "I don't wanna see someone died."

Frey fell silent, a disquieting dissonance settling in her stomach. She remembered the first time this dungeon opened, the way it had brought in a flood of wealth. Back then, Alex's character had danced with a chilling glee, his eyes sparkling with a manic excitement as he played with the console, manipulating the flow of monsters and the influx of coins.

But now, as she looked at her master, a stranger seemed to peer back at her. His eyes, once filled with that unsettling fervor, now held a depth of anguish and a flicker of something she couldn't quite decipher.

"Are you really Master that I knew…?" she finally asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The opulent chamber shimmered and dissolved around them, replaced by the cold, unforgiving stone of the cavern. The air crackled with raw magic, the cavern walls groaning under the strain.

Alex, his face pale and drawn, looked at Frey with a haunted expression. He had pulled the plug, but the consequences were far from certain.

 

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