NOVEL WEB Chapter 20: First Blood
The moment the portal fully activated, Evan felt something shift in his awareness. A heads-up display materialized in his peripheral vision, elegant and unobtrusive but impossible to ignore. On the left side, three vertical bars appeared, each with distinct visual styling that made their purposes immediately clear.
The top bar was rendered in deep crimson, its surface like liquid ruby that caught and reflected light in mesmerizing patterns. A label at its base read "Infamy" in gothic script, and currently it sat completely empty—a dark void waiting to be filled.
Below it, a bar of silver-white gleamed with the soft radiance of moonlight. "Prestige" was etched beneath it in elegant lettering, and like its crimson counterpart, it too remained unfilled.
The third bar combined the visual elements of both—golden liquid that seemed to contain swirling motes of red and silver light. "Core Progress" was labeled at its base, and it too awaited the first drops of whatever substance would feed its growth.
On the right side of his HUD, a simple counter displayed in clean numerals: 5.
"Lisa, are you seeing this?" Evan asked, gesturing toward the display that had appeared.
"The interface? Yes, though mine looks slightly different," she replied, her fox ears twitching with interest. "I've got monitoring capabilities, but the progression bars are read-only for me. This is your show."
As they watched, both of them felt the familiar sensation of spatial transition. The manor chamber dissolved around them, replaced by the crystalline drafting room where Evan had originally designed the Hollow Vale. The large table that had served as his primary design interface was still there, but now it displayed something new—a second tab had appeared alongside the familiar "Floor Design" option.
Instance 1 - 5 Players - ACTIVE
"Instance monitoring," Evan breathed, clicking on the new tab with mounting excitement. "I can actually watch what happens to people in my dungeon."
The table's surface transformed into a viewing window that displayed five character profiles in neat rows:
Lunessa - Level 10 Nightblade - Veteran Adventurer, Legend Forger Ironstride - Level 10 Ironbound Sentinel - Veteran Adventurer, Legend Forger
Nira - Level 10 Pyromancer - Veteran Adventurer, Legend Forger Serein - Level 10 Verdant Warden - Veteran Adventurer, Legend Forger Spudicus - Level 10 Gadgeteer - Veteran Adventurer, Legend Forger
"Legend Forger?" Evan said, reading the titles with growing realization. "These have to be the players who completed the portal activation quest. They're the ones who opened my dungeon."
As if responding to his recognition, the Prestige bar in his HUD suddenly gained a thin line of silver light. It was barely visible—perhaps one percent of the bar's total capacity—but it was definitely there.
"You're gaining Prestige just from them entering," Lisa observed, her tails swishing with interest. "That makes sense from a design perspective. You should be rewarded for creating content that attracts players, not just content that kills them."
The Core Progress bar also gained a tiny amount of golden liquid, even less than the Prestige increase. Since it was described as a combination of both metrics, the minimal gain made perfect sense.
The Infamy bar remained resolutely empty.
When Evan focused on the instance tab, his perspective shifted dramatically. Suddenly he could see through invisible eyes as five figures emerged from the swirling portal into his carefully crafted domain. The transition was seamless—one moment they were standing in ancient ruins under normal moonlight, and the next they were in the Hollow Vale beneath his blood-red moon.
He could hear their voices as clearly as if he were standing beside them, though they showed no awareness of his presence.
"Holy crap," the one labeled as Spudicus said, his voice carrying the sharp, intelligent tone characteristic of crow folk as he looked around. "This place is incredible. Look at that moon—it's actually red! And the fog effects, the ambient lighting... this is way beyond anything we've seen in the tutorial zones."
The pyromancer—Nira—was turning in slow circles, taking in the twisted trees and shifting mist. "The atmospheric detail is insane. I can smell the damp earth and rotting leaves. How is the sensory input this realistic?"
Lunessa, the nightblade, was already in tactical mode, her enhanced senses scanning the environment for threats. "Stay alert, everyone. This is legendary content—we have no idea what we're walking into."
"Only level 10?" Lisa said, studying their character information with growing concern. "Well, it's to be expected. They've only had one game day to level up. But I have a feeling they're not going to make it very far."
Evan nodded grimly. "Five levels might not sound like much, but with Elite tags? They're going to be severely outmatched. Elite mobs are designed to challenge parties of equivalent level, not groups that are significantly under-leveled."
Through his viewing interface, he watched the party move cautiously into the forest proper. Ironstride took point with his shield raised, while Serein hung back in the traditional healer position. Nira and Spudicus flanked the formation, with Lunessa scouting slightly ahead using her stealth abilities.
They were being smart about it—good formation, constant communication, careful attention to their surroundings. But Evan could see what they couldn't. His enhanced perspective showed him the Widowspine Spider perched motionless in the canopy directly above their path, its translucent egg sacs gleaming in the red moonlight.
"They're not looking up," Lisa said, her voice tight with anticipation. "None of them thought to check the overhead space."
The spider was a level 15 Elite, exactly the kind of encounter Evan had designed to teach players that his dungeon required a different approach than standard content. Ambush predators, environmental awareness, threats from unexpected angles—all core elements of the Hollow Vale experience.
But watching it unfold in real-time made his stomach clench with anxiety.
The Party's Perspective
The portal transition had been unlike anything they'd experienced in Aetherion Realms Online. Where other zone changes felt like loading screens with fancy effects, stepping through the gateway to Fabledeep was seamless and immediate. One second they were in ancient ruins, the next they were somewhere that felt fundamentally different.
"This can't be the same game engine," Serein said quietly, his bark-textured skin taking on deeper brown tones that suggested unease. "The level of environmental detail, the sensory integration—it's like we've stepped into a completely different virtual world."
The forest around them was hauntingly beautiful and undeniably threatening. Ancient trees with gnarled trunks and twisted branches stretched toward a blood-red moon that cast everything in supernatural crimson light. Mist drifted between the trunks in patterns that seemed almost deliberate, creating natural corridors and obstacles that would clearly affect combat tactics.
"Standard formation," Ironstride called out, his voice carrying the authority of someone who had led parties through countless encounters. "Serein, stay central and watch our health bars. Nira and Spud, flanking positions with overlapping fields of fire. Luna, advance scout but don't get more than twenty feet ahead."
"Copy that," Lunessa replied, activating her Fade ability. The shadow magic wrapped around her like a living cloak, reducing her visibility and muffling her footsteps as she moved ahead to check for immediate threats.
The path through the forest was clearly designed with intentionality. While it appeared natural, the spacing between trees and the placement of obstacles created clear sight lines and tactical positions. This wasn't random terrain generation—this was crafted dungeon architecture disguised as organic wilderness.
"Movement in the underbrush," Spudicus reported, his sharp corvid senses picking up subtle shifts in the foliage. "Small creatures, probably basic mobs. Nothing that registers as immediately threatening."
They advanced carefully, following what appeared to be an old hunting trail that wound between the larger trees. The path was wide enough for their formation but narrow enough to prevent easy escape if they were ambushed.
None of them thought to look up.
The Widowspine Spider had been waiting in the canopy, its alien patience allowing it to remain motionless until prey wandered beneath its chosen hunting ground. When the party moved into optimal position—clustered together, focused on ground-level threats, their healer exposed in the center of the formation—it acted with the swift precision of an apex predator.
The Elite mob dropped like a stone, its massive body plummeting directly toward Serein with lethal accuracy. As it fell, its egg sacs ruptured in a controlled explosion, releasing dozens of spiderlings that scattered across the immediate area like a living carpet of hunger and venom.
Level 15 Elite: Widowspine Spider
The notification appeared just as the creature landed on Serein with bone-crushing force. The nature-based healer barely had time to register the threat before the spider's mandibles found the gaps in his armor, injecting venom that bypassed his natural resistances through sheer level disparity.
His health bar plummeted from full to zero in less than three seconds.
"Serein's down!" Ironstride bellowed, spinning to face the new threat while his tactical mind processed the catastrophic situation. No healer, unknown Elite mechanics, and dozens of spiderlings spreading across the battlefield like a living nightmare.
Nira reacted with pure pyromancer instinct, unleashing a stream of fire that managed to clear some of the spiderlings but had minimal effect with the creatures already mixed in among the party members. Her flames cleared the outer edges of the swarm, but she couldn't target the ones that had scattered between her teammates without risking friendly fire.
"It's not taking damage like it should!" she called out, pouring more mana into her attack. "The level disparity is worse than we thought!"
Spudicus deployed his gadgets with mechanical precision, electrical nets and explosive charges designed to control crowds and create tactical advantages. But his level 10 equipment was simply outclassed by the Elite's natural resistances and supernatural toughness.
Lunessa appeared behind the spider using Shadowstep, her daggers seeking vital points with surgical precision. Her strikes landed true, but the damage numbers that appeared were devastatingly low—barely scratching an enemy that was built to challenge parties five levels higher than their current strength.
The spider's abilities activated in sequence, each one designed to capitalize on the chaos it had already created. Webbing erupted across the battlefield, slowing movement and hampering escape routes. Spiderlings swarmed toward the remaining party members with single-minded hunger. And through it all, the massive predator continued its systematic destruction of anything within reach.
Without their healer, without the levels needed to deal meaningful damage, and without any way to counter the Elite's specialized abilities, the party's destruction was swift and brutal.
One by one, their health bars reached zero.
Back in the Drafting Room
Evan watched the entire encounter with a mixture of professional satisfaction and personal guilt. From a design perspective, everything had worked exactly as intended. The spider's ambush had caught the party off-guard, its Elite status had made it appropriately challenging, and the encounter had demonstrated the importance of environmental awareness and proper level preparation.
But watching real players—people who had worked hard to open his dungeon—get systematically destroyed made him feel like he'd failed them somehow.
"That was brutal," Lisa said, though her tone suggested more admiration than sympathy. "Perfect encounter design, though. They learned about level disparities, Elite mechanics, environmental threats, and the importance of situational awareness all in one fight."
Evan's Infamy bar had gained its first measurement of crimson liquid—five small additions corresponding to each party member's death. The amount was substantial, nearly fifteen percent of the total bar, but seeing it there made the reality of his role hit home in a way that abstract planning hadn't.
He was creating content designed to kill players. That was literally the point.
His Core Progress bar had also gained a tiny amount of additional golden liquid, the combination of his Prestige and Infamy increases creating a barely visible advancement toward whatever rewards awaited at higher tiers.
The Graveyard
The party respawned in Hammerfall's graveyard, a somber area on the outskirts of town where weathered headstones and memorial plaques created an appropriately melancholy atmosphere for players returning from failed adventures. The transition from death to resurrection was seamless but disorienting—one moment they were lying broken in a supernatural forest, the next they were standing whole and healthy in familiar surroundings.
"Well, that was humbling," Ironstride said, checking his character sheet with obvious dismay. "We lost all the experience we'd gained since hitting level 10. We're back to the bottom of the level bracket."
"Could be worse," Serein said philosophically, though his bark-textured skin had taken on the pale coloration that indicated stress. "At higher levels, losing a full level's worth of progress would be devastating. At least at level 10, we can probably make up the lost ground in a few hours of focused grinding."
Nira was less sanguine about their defeat. "That spider dropped on us like a meteor. We should have checked overhead—that's basic dungeon exploration. And we let ourselves get clustered up right where it could hit all of us at once."
"The level disparity was worse than we calculated," Lunessa added, reviewing her combat logs with professional interest. "My damage output was reduced by at least sixty percent, maybe more. Elite mobs five levels higher than us aren't just challenging—they're essentially impossible without perfect play and optimal gear."
Spudicus was already pulling up his interface to check respawn timers and death penalties, his corvid voice carrying a note of analytical curiosity. "The good news is that we only lost experience, not gear or items. And the death timer is only ten minutes before we can attempt the dungeon again. But honestly, I don't think ten minutes is going to solve our fundamental problem."
As they discussed their defeat, other players began filtering into the area around the graveyard—evidence that their global announcement had indeed attracted attention from across the server. Most of the newcomers were clustered around the same level range, with a few outliers who had managed to reach level 12 or 13 through aggressive grinding or optimal quest routes.
"Look at all these people," Ironstride observed, watching as small groups formed and disbanded around them. "Word is definitely spreading about Fabledeep. How long do you think it'll be before someone organizes a serious expedition?"
"Not long," Lunessa replied, studying the other players with tactical assessment. "Most of them are asking the same questions we were—where is it, how do you get there, what level do you need to be. It's only a matter of time before someone puts together the information we already have."
"Should we warn them?" Serein asked, his natural healer instincts extending to protecting other players from unnecessary harm. "Let them know about the level requirements and Elite mechanics? It might save people some frustration and wasted time."
"Hell no," Nira said immediately, her competitive instincts particularly sharp. "Information is a strategic advantage, and we earned it through actual exploration and risk. Why would we hand that advantage to people who haven't put in the work?"
"She's got a point," Spudicus added, appreciating the tactical implications. "Besides, discovering dungeon mechanics through trial and error is part of the experience. Taking that away from other players would actually diminish their sense of accomplishment when they finally succeed."
Ironstride nodded slowly, his experience as a party leader giving him perspective on both sides of the argument. "Nira's right. We keep our intelligence to ourselves until we've had a chance to capitalize on it. The dungeon isn't going anywhere, but our advantage in knowledge will disappear the moment other parties start sharing their experiences."
"So what's our plan?" Lunessa asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it stated clearly.
"We level," Ironstride said firmly. "Fast and focused. We get ourselves to at least level 15, preferably higher, and we get gear upgrades wherever possible. Then we go back to Fabledeep and show that spider what a properly prepared party can accomplish."
"How long do you think that'll take?" Serein asked, mentally calculating experience requirements and optimal grinding locations.
"If we're smart about it? Maybe six to eight hours of real time," Spudicus estimated. "There are some higher-level zones opening up now that more players are reaching the teens. Better experience, better loot, better preparation for what we're going to face."
"Then let's get started," Nira said, her competitive fire already burning bright again. "I want to be the first party to clear a floor of Fabledeep, and I'm not letting some random group beat us to it just because we weren't prepared the first time."