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[Hidden Quest Complete: The Capital’s Game]

[Objective: Determine why House Harwick is interested in the tenth floor.]

[Progress: 100%]

[New Information: The Church of the Eternal Will seeks to widen the rift beneath the Caldmore dungeon. The lich is the same being from the graveyard—an avatar destroyed, its true form now revealed. The sealed entity is a fragment of the being that has been devouring worlds.]

[Final Reward: 10,000 GT Tokens]

[Current GT Tokens: 10,405]

```

Fire roared through Dominic’s mind, igniting every thought with urgency.

The seal. The rift. The waiting entity on the verge of emergence.

The Church wasn’t merely after the core or attempting to kill him; it aimed to rip open the fabric of reality itself. The dungeon wasn’t just a prison for the monsters, it was a gaping wound in the world, and the Church sought to make it bleed. The Core would simply give the amount of power needed to accomplish that.

Yet, none of that mattered if he didn’t act now to turn the tide.

Ten thousand tokens. The reward was immense. But the battle was still going. The Church was still winning. The lich was still ascending.

And Dominic was standing in the ruins of a burning city, surrounded by the dead.

He opened the gacha.

The SS-rank warrior was now within striking distance, her blade raised high, her icy eyes fixed on Dominic.

Yet, he remained oblivious to her presence. His gaze was distant, lost in a strange trance, far removed from the chaos surrounding him, the burning cityscape, the screams of the dying, and the distant echoes of destruction.

All he could focus on was the system interface flashing before him.

The lich continued its manic monologue, its fanatical voice crashing over the ruined streets like a relentless tide of madness. Dead bodies were stirring, rotting corpses clawing their way from the graves. The city was in flames, buildings crackling and collapsing. Florence had fallen, overtaken by chaos.

Theresa was desperately fighting off hordes of monsters, while Lysandra stood her ground, defying the oncoming horde. Meanwhile, Dominic’s hand trembled as he reached for the gacha, the mysterious loot box that might turn the tide.

He pulled.

A jagged rift tore open in the fabric of space, spilling out blinding, spectral light that momentarily illuminated the night.

It was just a common item, a nondescript, dull-colored artifact, utterly useless in this desperate moment.

He pulled again.

An empty, hollow sound echoed as the system registered another failure, the click of disappointment.

𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Please, he thought desperately, his hands trembling violently. Just one win, one artifact, one chance to turn the tide, anything to help them survive.

The SS-rank warrior advanced another step, the gleam of her blade catching what little light there was, a predatory smile on her face.

Dominic remained unaware. He fixated on the gacha interface, the pity counter, the odds stacked so unfavorably, the nagging hope still flickering inside him. He made a third attempt; the screen flickered ominously and then went dark.

Nothing. Absolute emptiness.

The SS-rank warrior was nearly upon him now, her blade poised to strike, but Dominic’s mind was lost in a spiral of obsession, fixated on the interface, the realization dawning that the chance he’d been clinging to might be slipping away forever.

"Why am I trying to pull someone new," He thought. "When I could just strengthen the ones I have are right here?"

The SS-rank lunged.

And then a blur of crimson crashed into her from the side.

Florence had risen. Blood dripped from her, her armor was shattered, but her eyes burned with a fire that hadn’t been there moments before. She tackled the SS-rank off her feet, and the two of them went crashing into the rubble, tumbling through the broken stone in a tangle of limbs and fury.

Dominic’s head snapped around. The bond flared with alarm.

"Florence!"

"Focus, Master," her voice came through the bond, strained but fierce. "Do what you need to do. I’ll buy you time."

She was still wounded. Still at forty percent. But she was fighting.

Dominic turned back to the system.

He closed the gacha.

He opened the shop.

The interface blazed. Items materialized in his awareness. For Theresa. For Florence.

He reached out and selected.

```

[Purchase Complete: The Astral Grimoire]

[Rank: SSS]

[Original Owner: Theresa Moon, Dean of Helion]

[Effect: Restores the owner’s ability to cast complex spells. The grimoire contains the accumulated magical knowledge of a civilization that no longer exists.]

[Price: 3,500 GT Tokens]

[Purchase Complete: The Demon’s Halberd]

[Rank: SSS]

[Original Owner: Florence Mark, Anointed Demon of War]

[Effect: Anti-magic. The blade disrupts magical constructs on contact. Engraved with enchantments that amplify the wielder’s speed and striking power. The halberd will always return to its owner’s hand.]

[Price: 3,000 GT Tokens]

[Purchase Complete: The Ghost Stallion]

[Rank: SSS]

[Original Owner: Florence Mark, Anointed Demon of War]

[Effect: A war horse of immense size and power, twice that of a normal steed. Can run on air. Can leap impossible distances. Leaves a spectral trail. Will always reach its owner, no matter the distance.]

[Price: 2,500 GT Tokens]

[Total Spent: 9,000 GT Tokens]

[GT Tokens Remaining: 1,405]

```

The items materialized in the air.

In the distance, something answered.

Florence was locked in combat with the SS-rank, their blades clashing in a fury of sparks. She was losing ground, her wounds screaming, her halberd heavy in her hands. The SS-rank’s smile was cold, certain.

Then the ground shook.

A massive form thundered through the smoke, the Ghost Horse, twice the size of any normal steed, its eyes burning with spectral fire, its hooves cracking stone. It hit the SS-rank like a falling star, trampling her under its massive hooves with a sickening crunch.

Florence’s breath hitched as the horse suddenly reared toward her, recognition lighting up her eyes.

"Hey, handsome," she murmured shakily, her voice trembling with emotion. "You’re back."

The horse responded with a deep, thunderous sound that resonated through the air, vibrating in her chest.

And then the halberd flew through the air, humming with power, and slammed into her waiting hand.

The moment her fingers closed around it, and her fingers grasped the horses reins, an overwhelming surge flooded through her. It was as if a dam within her had burst, unleashing pure, revitalizing energy, not just healing, but renewal.

The gash on her arm sealed itself instantly, the burn on her cheek vanished, leaving flawless skin behind. The exhaustion that weighed on her bones evaporated, replaced by a humming vitality that made her nerve endings sing. She felt like she’d been submerged underwater for weeks and had just broken the surface.

The world snapped into sharper focus. Colors exploded with vibrancy. Sound became crystalline in clarity. Every muscle in her body coiled with untapped potential, her senses alive with a intensity she hadn’t known since arriving in this strange world.

Florence stood tall.

She swung onto the horse in one seamless motion, her new halberd crackling with anti-magic energy. The stallion beneath her thrummed with raw power, a living war machine of spectral flesh and blazing eyes. A wild, savage laughter burst from her lips, cutting through the chaos like a knife.

"Now," she declared through the bond, eyes blazing. "Now we fight!"

Theresa gasped as the grimoire materialized before her, its pages fluttering with an almost tangible power that called to something deep inside her. She seized it with both hands, and the world seemed to ripple and shift around her.

The surge of magic struck her differently, yet it was no less intense. It wasn’t just knowledge returning, it poured back into her in torrents: forgotten spells, lost formulas, the accumulated wisdom of a civilization long consumed by flames. Her body grew lighter, stronger, as if every scar and strain was being erased. The golden fire in her eyes ignited brighter, no longer flickering with exhaustion but blazing with renewed determination.

Now, she could feel the magic alive around her, not just sensing it, but truly experiencing it. Every current of mana, every ripple of energy from the chaos of battle, every living soul still wandering through the ruins—everything was accessible to her in a way that had been impossible moments before.

Theresa swiftly opened the grimoire; pages turned effortlessly, responding to her will. The lich’s voice wavered mid-sentence, and for the first time, the ancient being looked uncertain.

Both of them now operating at sixty percent.

And the bond between them shattered all limits.

Dominic experienced it as a powerful wave, a surge of energy ripping through the threads linking him to Theresa and Florence. It was raw, unstoppable power. Their strength, vitality, and renewed potential flowed through him like lightning racing through a conductor.

The wounds from the fight, the cut across his ribs, bruises, and deepest exhaustion, disappeared in an instant. Theresa’s amplified connection flooded his limbs with newfound strength. Florence’s heightened battle sense sharpened his perception, reflexes, and combat instincts to a deadly fine edge.

He was no longer just fighting at S-rank level.

He was surpassing it.

Bond Level 3 achieved.

Thought-sharing enabled.

Power sharing intensified.

"You can hear us now," Theresa’s thought reached him, as clear as words.

"It’s about time," Florence’s voice sliced through the tension, sharp and focused as she charged forward. "Now, let’s make it count."

No longer three separate fighters, they moved as a unified force, bound by thought, fighting as one unstoppable entity.

Wobbly returned to him, bouncing through the smoke, its glow still dim but growing brighter as it felt the bond shift. It had been helping Lysandra, she was safe now, somewhere below, still holding the retreat. The creature pressed against Dominic’s ankle, and through the new bond, he understood it in a way he never had before.

He didn’t need to tell it what to do.

He just needed to think it.

A Church S-rank charged at him from the left. Dominic didn’t turn. He simply thought, and Wobbly moved.

The creature launched itself, stretching into a whip-thin tendril that wrapped around the S-rank’s sword arm. Then it hardened, not just hard, but crystallized, forming jagged spikes that tore through armor and flesh. The S-rank screamed and stumbled, and Dominic’s sword took his head.

Another agent came at him from behind. Wobbly split, a fragment shooting back to form a shield that caught the blow. The fragment then liquefied, flowing around the blade, and reformed as a spike that drove through the agent’s throat.

Dominic moved through them, no longer just fighting, orchestrating. Wobbly became whatever he needed. A blade, a shield, a spear, a wall. It stretched, split, hardened, liquefied, and crystallized in ways it had never done before. The bond didn’t just let Dominic command it. It let Wobbly understand, instantly, what was needed.

A Church mage began to cast from a distant rooftop. Dominic thought, and Wobbly launched itself, splitting into a dozen droplets that shot through the air like bullets. The mage’s spell died in his throat as the droplets reformed inside his mouth, expanding and crystallizing. The man’s head shattered from within.

Dominic didn’t even break stride.

"This is what we were missing," he realized.

The battle continued around him, Florence on her horse, Theresa with her grimoire, the lich above, the dead rising. But now Dominic was no longer just trying to survive.

He was hunting.