WebNovels

Chapter 1 - Victory And Death Of A Gamer.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a pale silver wash over the alleyway. Its cold light seeped into the narrow passage, revealing brick walls scarred by years of neglect.

Graffiti sprawled across them like faded memories — streaks of color that had long since dulled, their edges blurred and peeling.

A faint smell of damp and rust lingered in the air.

Somewhere beyond the alley, the city murmured with life — car horns, distant voices, the hum of neon signs — but here, the sound was muffled, like the world had decided to leave this place behind.

A lone man walked down the path, his black suit wrinkled, his tie hanging loose around his neck. He carried the heavy air of someone who had been awake far too long.

Each step echoed in the narrow space, sharp and rhythmic, until he reached the very end — a rusted metal door leaning slightly on its hinges, its red paint chipped to reveal the corroded steel beneath.

Without hesitation, he slid a key into the lock.

A click broke the silence, followed by the low groan of hinges as the door swung inward.

Darkness spilled out, thick and unbroken.

He stepped inside and reached to the wall.

A flick.

A single overhead bulb flared weakly to life, bathing the room in pale yellow light.

The apartment it revealed was small, cramped, and worn-out. Cracks ran along the ceiling. The wallpaper had peeled in places, revealing the plaster underneath.

A mattress lay on the floor with a blanket tossed carelessly over it. Everything smelled faintly of dust and stale air.

Everything, except for the glow that drew the eye to the far wall.

There, sitting like a shrine in the gloom, was a gaming setup so pristine it looked as though it belonged in another reality.

Three curved monitors stood side by side, connected to a high-end PC rig that hummed faintly even in standby.

RGB lights pulsed gently along the edges of the desk, casting shifting colors across the worn floor.

A mechanical keyboard gleamed under the glow, its keys custom-carved.

Noise-canceling headphones rested atop a black gaming chair molded perfectly to the body of its owner.

Zach stepped inside fully, shutting the door behind him.

Without even glancing at the bed or the small kitchenette in the corner, he began to strip — jacket, shirt, shoes — until only his pants remained.

He moved to the desk like a man approaching a lifeline.

The power button clicked beneath his finger, and the machine whirred to life.

Fans spun up, the soft hum of the rig filling the room like the start of a familiar ritual.

He turned off the overhead light, letting the monitors' glow paint the walls in shades of blue and white.

A small smile touched his lips.

"Just how I like it. No bright light. Helps me focus."

He cracked his knuckles, slid into the chair, and pulled the headphones over his ears.

The mouse woke under his hand.

In the center screen, an icon pulsed — Calamity's Crown.

With a double-click, the title theme filled his ears.

The game wasn't just a pastime. It was an obsession — and for Zach, an anchor.

It was based entirely on Ashes of Valeria, a webnovel that had swept across the world six years ago.

A story of a dying world, Valeria, shattered by seven of ten apocalyptic calamities.

A desperate final stand by the last heroes to face the remaining three.

Zach had devoured every chapter, living alongside the characters, breathing their victories and losses — until the updates stopped.

No warning. No ending.

The author vanished, leaving millions of fans furious and hungry for closure.

Then, out of nowhere, Calamity's Crown appeared.

No studio credits, no interviews, no development logs — just the game itself.

Many believed the original author had made it to let fans finish the story their way.

It was beautiful.

It was merciless.

Most players never survived past the midpoint.

The calamities were brutal — godlike bosses with patterns designed to break even the most skilled.

Five lives per run, no checkpoints beyond the start of each calamity.

Fail, and you started from scratch.

Three years later, the game's once-massive player base had withered to a stubborn handful.

Zach was among them.

And tonight… he was here for the final calamity.

His save file loaded, revealing his character — a battle-worn hero clad in gold armor, his weapon chipped but still gleaming — standing before the gates of a ruined cathedral.

Above, the sky burned a deep crimson.

Ash drifted slowly down, collecting on the cracked stone.

One heart remained in the corner of the screen.

"Let's get this over with."

The cathedral gates groaned open as his character stepped forward.

Inside, the air was thick with dust.

Shattered pillars lay across the floor like fallen giants.

Broken pews were scattered among patches of dried blood.

And at the center… a throne.

Forged entirely from hardened blood, it rose like a grotesque monument.

Seated upon it was Scarlet Curse — Lucien Thorne, the final calamity.

Lucien's skin was ashen and drawn tight over sharp bones.

His torn black robe revealed the faint shimmer of something unnatural beneath.

Long white hair floated as though suspended in water.

A black mask covered most of his face, but his eyes — burning red — glared through the slits like twin beacons of malice.

Lucien rose, his voice low and resonant.

"I have been waiting for you… great hero."

Zach skipped the cutscene.

No distractions.

Lucien's throne collapsed into a river of blood that surged to his hand, solidifying into a massive broadsword.

He swung once, sending a crescent wave of crimson energy screaming toward Zach's character.

The fight was on.

Every strike was lethal.

Every dodge was a heartbeat away from death.

The first phase dragged for nearly an hour — a relentless exchange of blows, feints, and narrow escapes.

Finally, Zach landed a perfect combo, and Lucien's health bar drained to zero.

But he didn't relax.

Lucien screamed, his robe dissolving into blood that formed a jagged armor around his body.

A second, longer health bar appeared above him.

Zach's health was low.

He drank his last potion.

A small Earth Spirit appeared beside him, glowing faintly before unleashing a beam of healing light.

"Worth the life it took to get you," Zach muttered under his breath.

Phase two was faster, crueler.

Blood spears erupted from the ground.

Waves of crimson carved through the air in unpredictable patterns.

The Blood River attack — his most hated move — came without warning, forcing split-second reactions.

One hour passed.

Then two.

Then three.

His hands cramped.

His back ached.

But his eyes never left the screen.

Every feint, every stagger, every tiny pause in Lucien's rhythm was burned into his reflexes.

Finally — the opening.

Zach unleashed a flurry of blows, chaining them with perfect precision.

Lucien's second health bar bled away.

The final strike landed.

The boss screamed, his body unraveling into red mist before collapsing to the ground.

[Victory] blazed across the screen.

Zach leaned back, letting out a slow, disbelieving breath.

He'd done it.

Then, without warning, a message appeared:

> [Congratulations on beating the game. You are the first.]

[Calculating reward...]

Zach blinked.

A reward?

No patch notes had ever mentioned this.

He leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

The screen went black.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Then — the monitors lit up again, displaying a massive skull.

Its hollow sockets seemed to peer directly into him.

"What the hell…?"

Text bled in beneath it, each word pulsing faintly:

> [Reward: You become what you hunt.]

Zach stared.

A joke? Some hidden Easter egg?

Silence.

Then — BOOM!

The monitors exploded, shattering glass across the desk.

A wave of heat slammed into him, lifting him from the chair and hurling him into the wall.

The smell of burning plastic filled the room.

His vision blurred.

Then — nothing.

Zach was gone.

More Chapters