SSS Unknown: Dark Knight's Legacy

As Unknown stumbled out of the massive corpse of the [Elder Centipede], the stench of its blood clinging to his clothes, he saw Steel's group approaching.

'Fuck them,' he thought, the bitterness rising like bile in his throat.

His gaze darkened, and his voice, barely above a growl, slipped through clenched teeth:

"Get out of my sight… right now…"

The words felt heavy, laced with anger and exhaustion. His fists curled tightly, nails digging into his palms as if the pain might anchor him, though it did little to dull the storm inside.

'Those bastards left me behind.'

It was a thought that looped in his mind, sharp and accusatory. They'd abandoned him, he was certain of it—left him to fend for himself like he was nothing but an expendable tool. The sting of being discarded cut deep, reopening wounds he had long thought buried.

And yet, even in his anger, a flicker of doubt wormed its way into his thoughts.

'They had their own mission,' he conceded reluctantly. 'Their goal was the Eclipse Blade, not me. Why should they care?'

The logic was cold but irrefutable. They weren't his friends. They were barely even allies, bound together not by trust but by convenience. And if he was being honest, he had been the one to keep his distance, the one who refused to trust or connect.

'They had no obligation to save me,' he admitted, though the bitterness didn't fade.

Even understanding their reasoning, the sting of abandonment refused to dull. The rational part of his mind warred with the rawness of his emotions, leaving him stranded in a liminal space of resentment and reluctant acceptance.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if to banish the lingering ache.

'Fine,' he told himself, his gaze hardening. 'I'll do this on my own. I've always been on my own.'

The words sounded convincing, resolute. But even as he thought them, the bitter taste lingered. A faint, unwelcome whisper echoed in his mind—a tiny voice that clung to the fleeting hope that, for a moment, things could have been different.

He hated that voice.

Because the truth was inescapable: Unknown was an arrogant and petty man. His arrogance was his armor, his pettiness a shield. He wore them both with pride, but they couldn't fully protect him from the sting of what he perceived as betrayal.

'I can't forgive them,' he thought, his fists trembling at his sides.

And yet, he was nothing if not pragmatic. He wouldn't let his anger blind him to the task at hand.

'This is this, and that is that,' he resolved, forcing himself to set his emotions aside.

A deal was a deal. He would finish what he'd agreed to—not out of loyalty or camaraderie, but for himself. His pride wouldn't allow anything less.

And when it was over?

Well, that was a problem for another day.

***

"That's it. Now we just have to wait," Steel muttered, stepping back to survey their handiwork.

The trench they had dug redirected the stream's flow into the cave, flooding the nest and sealing off the upstream source. The poison had already been introduced to what remained, ensuring any creatures relying on that water would soon succumb.

Meat sat nearby, gnawing on a piece of cooked centipede. The makeshift meal was tough and carried a pungent aftertaste, but it was edible, and they couldn't afford to be picky.

"Hey, Steel, are you sure it's okay to leave him alone like that?" Meat asked between bites, glancing back in the direction where Unknown had been left.

Steel's reptilian gaze flicked toward the distant figure for a moment before returning to Meat.

"Do you think it's wise to approach a wounded beast?" he asked pointedly.

Meat shook his head. He understood the implication well enough. A cornered or injured creature, no matter how intelligent, was always unpredictable.

He resumed eating, though the uneasy thought lingered. "Still, the way he fought, surviving a Lord Centipede like that... Who is he really, Steel?"

Steel paused, his tail flicking idly as he stared into the horizon. "If I did know, what would you do with that information?"

"What do you mean? Are you saying he's some kind of enemy of the kingdom or something?" Meat's voice was low, uncertain.

"Darknight Order." The name came like a whisper, heavy with meaning. Steel's tone grew grave as he continued, his eyes narrowing. "You've heard of them, haven't you?"

Meat froze, his makeshift fork halfway to his mouth. His brows furrowed as recognition dawned. "Wait, you're not saying—"

"I'm saying," Steel interrupted, "that if there's even a chance he's associated with them, we need to tread carefully. Power like that doesn't come without cost."

"Explain it, Steel," Meat demanded, his voice tense.

Steel let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "In any case, he's not an enemy of the kingdom—not yet, at least. But his strength, his survival despite those wounds... It's not natural. And that's all the more reason to stay cautious."

Steel's thoughts drifted to memories he would rather forget.

The Darknight Order.

Long ago, they had torn through his tribe, justifying their brutality as the preservation of balance. An exceptional Lizardman had been born among them—a prodigy whose strength and potential had brought hope to their people. 

But such exceptionalism was precisely what the Darknight Order sought to quell.

They came swiftly, their judgment cold and unrelenting. The prodigy was executed before he could rise further, and nearly half the tribe—any who posed a potential threat—were slaughtered. The rest, deemed "insignificant," were left alive to languish in weakness.

Steel had been among the spared, his youth and mediocrity his only salvation.

He clenched his claws at the memory, a bitter smile crossing his face. 'Revenge is a foolish thing,' he thought, his gaze distant. 'I chased it for years, thinking I could fill the hole they left behind. All it did was trap me in a cycle of bloodshed. And by the time I realized it, I was already too old to climb out.'

His introspection was interrupted by Meat, whose face was oddly weary. And he noticed another thing—his companion was missing.

"By the way, Meat," Steel said, his tone measured, "where's Boar? Isn't he supposed to be resting?"

Meat hesitated, his usual confidence faltering slightly. "Uh… he said he went out scouting."

Steel's reptilian eyes narrowed. "Be honest with me, Meat. Why did he really go out?"

"I swear, he's just scouting!" Meat insisted, though his tone betrayed him.

Steel sighed deeply, folding his arms. "He went out looking for the core of the Lord Centipede, didn't he? Don't bother lying—I can see it all over your face."

Meat's eyes widened in shock. "How did you guess that!?"

"Because I was just like him once," Steel replied, his voice tinged with weariness. "Chasing after power that was never meant to be mine."

Guilt flickered across Meat's face. "I'm sorry. I'll go bring him back right now."

Meat stood, ready to rush after Boar, but Steel reached out and grabbed his arm, holding him in place.

"There's no need," Steel said, his grip firm but not forceful. "Let him go. I want him to learn a lesson—on his own terms."

Meat hesitated, glancing at Steel's weathered expression. The older Lizardman's words carried the weight of hard-earned wisdom.

"Sometimes," Steel continued, his gaze fixed on the distance, "the only way to understand the price of ambition is to pay it yourself."

While they were talking, another "conversation" was unfolding near the massive corpse of the Lord Centipede.

In the damp, suffocating darkness of the dungeon, a young, ambitious Ogre—Boar—was frantically digging through the bloated remains of the beast. 

His large, clawed hands ripped through the tough exoskeleton, splintering and cracking the carapace in his desperation. The air reeked of decay and stale magic, but Boar didn't mind. His focus was entirely on the task at hand.

"Where is it? Where's the damn core?" Boar muttered to himself, his voice a mix of greed and frustration. His hands moved with increased fervor, throwing aside chunks of the centipede's thick, armored body.

The core was no ordinary organ—it was a rare, glowing artifact, deeply infused with residual magic that accumulated over the years within elite monsters like the Lord Centipede. 

For any demi-human, it represented the potential for immense power, a chance at evolving into a stronger, longer-lived, and more intelligent form. Consuming it could elevate one's status in the eyes of others, transforming them into a being capable of unimaginable strength.

After what seemed like an eternity of digging, Boar's hands finally brushed against something smooth, warm to the touch. His eyes widened with greed as he dug the last few inches to reveal a deep green pearl, glowing faintly with a pulsing light.

The core was the color of fresh moss, slick with the residue of magic, and emanated a faint warmth, like it was alive.

"This is it," Boar whispered, his voice trembling with excitement. "My chance... I'll show them. Steel, Meat, you'll all bow before me soon enough!"

He held the core up, marveling at its power. The small orb pulsed with an almost hypnotic rhythm, drawing him in with its allure. His fingers curled around it, and as he stared at it, something whispered in his mind—a voice that felt both alien and familiar.

"Eat it. Consume it, and grow stronger, Boar. Break free from the chains that bind you. Prove your worth."

The voice was insistent, seductive. Every fiber of Boar's being screamed to obey. The temptation was overwhelming, as if this was his one true shot at breaking free from the life he had been forced to live—subservient and overlooked.

Unable to resist, Boar slowly brought the core closer to his mouth. His thoughts blurred with the excitement of the power he was about to gain.

But just as his teeth were about to sink into the magical pearl, a cold, indifferent voice cut through his haze of greed.

"Ogre. What are you holding there?"

Boar froze, his heart pounding in his chest.

Before Boar could fully turn around, a sharp stone struck his hand, causing him to yelp in pain as the core slipped from his grip and hit the ground with a soft thud. He immediately clasped his injured hand, glaring at the figure before him. 

The figure, a man clad in dark armor, moved forward with a calm, unhurried step. His once jet-black hair was streaked with silver, an undeniable sign of the toll battle had taken on him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Boar growled, his voice thick with anger.

The man—Unknown—stopped, momentarily studying Boar's actions, his brow furrowing in suspicion. 

His keen eyes took in the sight of the glowing core at his feet, and with a sigh, he bent down to pick it up. With one hand, he examined it closely, feeling its pulse of magical energy, while his other hand locked onto Boar's neck, pushing him back against the bloated corpse of the dead centipede.

"This looks just like a Death Knight's core..." Unknown muttered, his voice low and almost contemplative. His grip tightened on Boar's throat, squeezing until Boar gasped for air. 

"…Were you planning to eat it? For what?" Unknown said, his voice is as cold as usual.

The pressure on Boar's throat made it hard to speak, but he managed to choke out, "Yeah. I want to eat it. After all, I helped you kill the centipedes. Let me have it as a reward."

The words sent a surge of frustration through Unknown. It wasn't the answer he wanted.

Boar has crossed the line.

Unknown's face remained impassive as he tightened his grip even more, pushing Boar against the creature's lifeless body. 

"No, you misunderstood. I killed the Lord Centipede by myself. You didn't earn anything. If you want something, go collect the bodies of the giant centipedes. You're not taking this."

For a moment, it seemed as if the matter was settled, and Unknown would leave it at that. But the quiet hum of tension in the air couldn't be ignored. Boar, seething with a mix of anger and desperation, snapped. His frustrations reached their peak, and with a wild roar, he lunged at Unknown, attempting to land a blow.

"Perfect," Boar snarled through gritted teeth. "He's just recovered. I can take him now."

His overconfidence proved to be his undoing. Despite his supposed advantage, Boar was no match for Unknown. 

Even though Unknown had only just recovered from his grueling battle, he was still far more powerful. With a simple twist of his wrist, he knocked Boar back effortlessly, sending him crashing into the cold dungeon floor.

Unknown didn't flinch, nor did he show the slightest hint of anger. Instead, he shook his head, as if disappointed by Boar's pathetic attempt at a fight. 

Slowly, he walked toward the fallen ogre, grabbing him by the collar with little effort, and lifting him off the ground.

"Why do you want this so badly?" Unknown asked, his voice strangely calm, as though this was just another trivial conversation to him.

Boar, still gasping for breath, snarled, his body trembling with barely contained rage. "Because I want to get stronger! I want to evolve! I want to crush all of you humans beneath me!"

To Unknown, Boar's words only sounded pathetic, a desperate attempt at self-justification. His eyes, cold and unmoved, bored into Boar's soul.

"Oh?" Unknown said, an eerie calmness in his tone. "Well then, fight and kill more."

The challenge hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Boar's eyes burned with fury, and he gritted his teeth, unable to stop himself from accepting.

"You think I reached this level by sitting back and relaxing?" Unknown spat, frustration spilling from him.

Unknown's fingers tightened around Boar's throat once more. "I didn't sit back. I fought to get where I am, I slaughtered weaklings like you to become stronger!"

Boar's eyes widened with the implication of Unknown's words, but before he could protest, Unknown's voice grew colder, sharper. "Now get out of my sight."

With an almost casual flick of his wrist, Unknown threw Boar aside like a ragdoll, dismissing him without a second thought. He didn't even glance back to see if Boar was still alive. 

In that moment, Boar felt his last ounce of dignity crumble away.

"I get stronger," Unknown muttered, barely audible as he turned his back. "So I'll never have to rely on trash like you again."

A cold, cruel fire burned in Unknown's chest. He wasn't just angry—he was consumed by something darker, something primal. The injustice of everything he had been through made his rage unbearable. His voice, like the growl of an animal ready to tear apart the world, echoed through the dungeon.

'I'll kill everything. I'll do whatever it takes to become stronger. And then, I'll escape from this damned place.'

As Unknown continued his path, the world around him seemed to darken. It was a path where only destruction awaited. 

If Unknown couldn't find peace, if the world continued to treat him so cruelly, he would burn it all down. There was no place for mercy, no room for compassion in the soul of someone like him.

Because when everything burned, when the world turned to ash, maybe—just maybe—Unknown would finally feel the warmth he had longed for, the warmth of vengeance and release.

He was never meant to be a good person. 

His fire was one that consumed all in its path, burning away everything in its wake. But if that fire could change the world, if it could burn away the injustices of fate, perhaps then—Unknown might be able to find some semblance of meaning.

But in the end, he would never be good.

Unknown is never meant to be a hero.