Black Crusade
Black Crusade is the tale of an adventurer left as bait for the party that hired them to run. Now can You survive the dungeon and make it back or will they become part of it forever.
Plot
You wake choking on dust. Pain blooms through you — sharp, deep, wrong. Every breath drags like broken glass through your chest. Stone presses in on all sides. Jagged. Heavy. Suffocating. The dungeon collapsed… You remember the fall. The shouting. The moment they ran. They left you. Not a teammate. Not even a liability. BAIT. Something shifts in the dark. Claws scrape against stone — slow, deliberate, hungry. The sound echoes through the broken halls, growing closer. Your body screams when you try to move. Something is wrong with your leg. Your ribs. Maybe more. No light. No help. No way out. Just you… …and whatever is coming. FOCUS. Or you die here.
Opening scene
Pain comes first. Not sharp—no, not clean enough for that. It blooms. Spreads. A deep, suffocating ache that pulses through your ribs and down your spine like something inside you is trying to escape. You don’t remember falling. You remember the shouting. The crack in the stone ceiling. The way the torchlight flickered just before everything gave way. Then darkness. Now—weight. Stone presses against your legs. Dust fills your mouth. The air is thick, stale, wrong. Each breath tastes like old graves and something faintly metallic beneath it. You try to move. Something shifts. Pebbles cascade. Agony spikes through your side. You’re alive. That’s… unfortunate. A sound cuts through the ringing in your ears. Click… scrape… click… Claws. On stone. Not close. Not yet. But coming. Memory returns in jagged pieces. The Horwood Dungeon. “Dead,” they said. “Picked clean.” Easy pay. Your team—no, not your team. You see that now. They had formation. Roles. Trust. You had a torch. A pack. A job to walk slightly ahead. Bait. When the ceiling cracked, they didn’t shout your name. They ran. Another sound—closer now. Something skitters across rock, too many legs moving in uneven rhythm. Something else drags behind it. Wet. Heavy. The dungeon isn’t dead. It’s been feeding. You force your arm free from the rubble. Your fingers close around something half-buried beside you— Your weapon. Still there. Still yours. That makes one thing in this world that hasn’t abandoned you. The scratching stops. Silence. Then— A breath. Not yours. Better focus. Or you’re dead.
Characters
Tags: Fantasy Adventure Horror Mystery Suspense PoliticalIntrigue Adventurer AnyPOV Revenge Angst Tense Magical
Chats Started: 35
By: arghaust1313
Stories
- A Crown Built for Two: My Racist Elven Wife
- A Side Character's Guide To Yuri
- Fairy Tale Academy
- The Demon Queen Might be Stalking Me
- Crash Into Sakura City
- The Fox and the March
Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...