The Hero Who Wasn't:Lord of Kingdoms

Time Stops… and the Crimson Death Sentence"

The small party stood before the dark entrance of the abandoned mine. The cold air flowing out carried the scent of centuries-old dust, a faint trace of metal, and an undercurrent of sorrow. Robert and Leo were on high alert, hands on their weapons. Selene, meanwhile, was analyzing the weathered dwarven runes on the gate with an expert's eye.

All of them turned to Arion, awaiting his command.

"Damn it. Now I really have to go in there, don't I?" was the silent scream echoing in Arion's mind. There was no room left for stalling. He'd brought them this far—now he actually had to enter.

"Proceed with caution," he said in his usual calm voice, praying it didn't waver. "Leo, take the lead. Robert, guard the rear. Selene, monitor the mana flows."

Reasonable orders—exactly what any competent leader would say. To Robert and Leo, it was yet another sign of his wisdom. To Selene, it was proof he preferred relying on their expertise instead of flaunting his own mysterious power—deepening her confusion even more.

They stepped into the mine. The tunnels were wide but dark and menacing. Silence reigned, broken only by their footsteps and the distant drip of water from the rocky ceiling.

Inside, fear gnawed at Arion. Every shadow looked like a lurking monster. Every oddly shaped rock seemed poised to leap at him. Driven by paranoia, he resorted to the only skill that gave him a shred of illusory control.

> [Skill Activated: Observer's Gaze]

He scanned everything.

> [Info: Ordinary Rock]

Description: Just a rock. Does nothing.

[Info: Glowing Moss]

Description: Fungus that glows in the dark. Harmless. Probably tastes bad.

[Info: Stagnant Water Pool]

Description: Ancient water. Drink it if you want to spend three days vomiting.

Leo noticed his odd behavior. "He's inspecting every inch so carefully… Is he searching for subtle magical traces invisible to us?"

Arion, of course, was just making sure the rocks wouldn't eat him.

As they continued through the first corridor, still deep in his frantic scanning, it happened.

Suddenly.

Everything stopped.

It wasn't gradual. It was a sharp, absolute cut in reality. The sound of dripping water vanished. The echo of footsteps froze. The moss's faint glow faded. The world around him turned into a canvas of gray and black. The air felt solid—like being trapped inside a block of amber.

Arion tried to move. He couldn't. Even his eyes were locked in place. He couldn't scream or even think clearly. His consciousness was just a tiny dot trapped in a sea of gray silence.

Proof he hadn't gone insane hung right in front of him: a droplet of water, about to fall from a rocky ledge, was now suspended mid-air, frozen in time, every ripple on its surface perfectly clear.

Time had stopped.

Then, in that dead world, a system window appeared.

But it wasn't the usual comforting blue.

It was red. Dark red, like dried blood, its words glowing with an ominous light. There was only one message, written in stark, merciless script.

> Your level is far too low to face the unknown ahead.

Host death probability: 100%

Subordinates' death probability: 100%

A wave of icy terror crushed Arion's being. This wasn't just a dangerous mission. This wasn't just a tough challenge. This was a death sentence. 100%. No chance of survival, no room for luck, no comedic misunderstanding to bail him out this time.

Certain death for him—and for everyone with him. Robert, Leo, even Selene. He would lead them all to their doom.

The shock froze what was left of his mind. He couldn't even start to process the total hopelessness before he noticed something else in the corner of the crimson window.

A small countdown ticking down fast. He hadn't seen it appear.

...2...

...1...

Then—

Fshhhhh!

Everything snapped back to normal in an instant. The water droplet splashed onto the ground. The moss glowed again. Footsteps echoed once more. To the others, not even a heartbeat had passed. Maybe Arion stumbled slightly, or paused for a split second, nothing more.

But for Arion, he had just returned from an eternity in hell.

"Are you alright, my Lord?" Robert asked, noticing he had stopped so abruptly.

Arion no longer cared about his reputation. He no longer cared about his heroic image. He no longer cared about anything except those words burned into his mind in crimson flame.

Death probability: 100%

All the lies he'd spun, all the myths, all the titles—meaningless before certain death.

The fear he'd felt before was just childish worry. This—this was pure, existential terror.

He turned slowly, his body still trembling from the aftershock.

His team looked at him, waiting for his next order. They expected him to say "Advance" or "Prepare yourselves."

Instead, he raised his hand—sharp and decisive.

His voice, when it emerged, was raw and different, stripped of all pretense.

"Retreat."

The team froze in place.

"Fall back! NOW!" Arion barked—this time, there was no act, no hidden strategy. This was the command of a man who'd glimpsed his own end and wanted only one thing.

To run. To retreat—immediately!

"RETREAT! FALL BACK! NOW!"