《The Game : Prologue》


 New Dawn, Same Day

    The shrill clang of the alarm bell pierced through the dense fog of sleep, dragging me reluctantly from the depths of my dreams. It was always the same blaring, unforgiving sound that marked the beginning of yet another indistinguishable day. I reached out with a groggy hand to silence it, my fingers brushing against the cold metal with a familiar resignation.


    In the dim light of the pre-dawn hour, the room was a monotonous collage of muted colors and shadows. The bed, rumpled and worn, seemed to sag under the weight of yesterday''s weariness. I lay there for a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the oppressive certainty of another day stretching out before me like a never-ending road.


    The bell''s echo still lingered in my ears as I dragged myself out of bed, my movements slow and heavy. The day''s routine awaited, predictable and unchanging, as it always had. With a sigh, I steeled myself for the repetition of the hours to come, knowing that no matter how much I wished for change, the bell''s jarring call would always bring me back to this same, dreary life.


    It shouldn''t have been a working day today. I stared at my phone, its screen glowing in the predawn darkness with the harsh reality of ''Saturday/5:17AM.'' The numbers seemed almost mocking. Today was supposed to be a break from the monotony of the weekly grind, but here I was, preparing for another day at school-a place I''d rather avoid. The only reason I had to drag myself out of bed was my slipping grades, a constant reminder of my failures and a source of endless frustration.


    t''s not like I have any real motivation to improve my scores. Most people my age are driven by the need to impress others, to brag about their achievements or secure a place in some prestigious career. They have families who cheer them on or friends who compete with them. They have dreams of becoming doctors, engineers, or something equally grand-ambitions that make sense to them, that give their lives direction and purpose.


    But for me, none of that applies. I don''t have a family to share my successes with, nor friends who would notice or care. My grades are nothing more than a series of numbers on a screen, a reflection of a future I can''t see or even begin to care about. The thought of becoming a doctor or an engineer is as distant and unappealing as a far-off dream. I can''t picture myself in those roles, nor do I have any passion to drive me towards them.


    The only thing that sometimes feels comforting is the idea of slipping into sleep and never waking up. It''s a thought that drifts through my mind when the weight of everything becomes too much to bear. If only I could drift away from this endless cycle, where every day blends into the next, each one a reminder of the emptiness I feel. For now, though, I have to face the day, no matter how pointless it seems.


    I stumbled out of bed, my feet finding the worn carpet that had seen better days. The house was in its usual state of disarray-scratched, faded hallways, and threadbare sofas that sagged in defeat. The kitchen, a pit of accumulated grime, was a stark reminder of the neglect that had become routine. I glanced at the chaotic mess of dirty dishes and discarded food wrappers with a weary resignation. It had all been like this for as long as I could remember, and I had long stopped caring.


    The caretakers, those few who hovered around the fringes of my existence, were as uninvolved as ever. They drifted through the house like shadows, their interest fading with every passing day. Their only concern was their paycheck, a fact made clear by the way they hastened their steps when the family''s wealth started to dwindle. They would leave the moment their salaries no longer seemed worth the effort, and I''d be left alone to navigate this tangled mess of a life.


    The kitchen was a disaster zone, and I was all too familiar with its state. With no one to clean up or cook, I''d resorted to ordering food from outside-a temporary fix that came with its own set of problems. This morning was no different. As I shuffled into the kitchen, I spotted the delivery bags lying on the counter. The cardboard containers were slightly askew, their seals cracked and torn, a sure sign of mishandling. It wasn''t uncommon for the caretakers to leave such things in disarray, and it made me wonder if they''d taken a bite out of the food before dropping it off.


    I opened one of the containers, the familiar smell of fast food wafting out. The food inside looked uninspired, a jumble of cold fries and congealed sauce. It was clear from the torn seal that someone had been less than careful with the delivery. I sighed, pulling out a piece of chicken that looked slightly chewed at the edges. It was a minor thing, but it added to the growing list of small indignities I faced daily.


    As I ate, I could feel the dismal weight of the house pressing down on me. Each bite was a reminder of the caretakers'' negligence, their indifference adding to the sense of decay that surrounded me. The food was bland and unsatisfying, much like the rest of my life. I ate quickly, not because I was hungry, but because I wanted to be done with the whole charade as soon as possible. With a final glance at the mess that surrounded me, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. The cool morning air hit me like a wake-up call, a sharp contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. The streets outside were just as dreary as the house, but at least they promised a change of scenery, however bleak. I sighed and rolled my rusty old cycle out of the cluttered hallway. It had only been two years, but the bike already showed signs of wear. I mounted it and began pedaling toward school, each turn of the wheels a reminder of the day''s monotony. The ride was as routine as everything else, a simple task in a day that felt pointless.


    As I approached the school, the contrast between this place and the prestigious institution I once attended was stark. This was no longer the realm of honor and privilege but a place where I was just another face in the crowd. The once-familiar grandeur of the Rowe family name had vanished, replaced by the indifferent stares of my new peers. Inside the school, the atmosphere was thick with a kind of youthful cruelty that I had grown to dread. To them, I wasn''t Owen Rowe, the kid with a lineage of distinction-I was simply Owen Rowe, the loner who kept to himself. The whispers and sideways glances I received felt like an unspoken reminder of my fall from grace.


    I wandered through the hallways, the murmur of conversations around me a constant reminder of my isolation. The students moved in groups, laughing and socializing with a ease that made my own solitude feel even more pronounced. The classrooms, with their bright, sterile decor, seemed to mock the gloom I carried with me. As I entered the classroom, the familiar sense of isolation settled over me. Unlike the few other students who should have been here due to their grades but chose to skip school for family or friends, I was forced to attend.


    I could have taken leave too, but the thought of upsetting the principal and losing the chance to reduce my school fees kept me in this dismal routine. The room wasn''t empty, but the company did little to ease the emptiness I felt. There were seven other students-four girls and three boys-all involved in cultural activities, chatting and laughing together as if today were just another carefree day.


    Even the boy I could almost call a friend was among them, blending in seamlessly. They formed a tight-knit group, their voices overlapping in easy conversation, unaware of my quiet presence at the back of the room. I recognized them all, each a part of the school''s vibrant social fabric. They knew of me, but they didn''t really know me. To them, I was a peripheral figure, someone who simply blended into the background.


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    I sat quietly, my role in the classroom reduced to that of an observer. The boy stood out to me-not because he was apart from the others, but because he was part of them. Like me, he was timid around others, especially girls. He was polite, well-behaved, and had an innocence that mirrored my own sense of detachment. His name was Daniel Morris. Our shared traits made him feel familiar, even if our interactions were minimal. I realized that even in this small group, my connection to him was one of the few things that grounded me in this place, even if he was just as distant as everyone else.


    I stared at the group, pretending to read the organic chemistry book in my hands. The chatter and laughter of the seven students filled the room, their voices mingling like a distant hum that I couldn''t quite tune into. My eyes wandered back to the pages in front of me, dense with diagrams and explanations about carbon compounds. I tried to concentrate, but the words felt heavy, blurring together as if they were written in a language I no longer understood.


    Every so often, I glanced up at the group, my gaze drifting to Daniel Morris, who was laughing along with the others. I remembered when I used to be more like carbon-versatile, able to form bonds with anyone, fitting easily into different groups. Those days felt like a lifetime ago, back when my family still had its wealth and I still had a place among people. Now, I felt more like neon, one of those noble gases: inert, detached, and content to remain on the edges. Neon didn''t bother forming bonds; it existed in its own space, satisfied in its solitude. I wondered when I had shifted from one state to another, from carbon''s endless potential for connection to neon''s cold detachment.


    It was comforting in a way, not having to worry about fitting in or trying to be something I wasn''t. But the weight of not belonging, of being disconnected, hung over me. I glanced back at the page, the words on carbon swimming before my eyes as I tried to focus, feeling the quiet, unspoken distance that separated me from everyone else.


    But soon, the conversation started to die down as one by one they were called for practice. The group dwindled until there were just four of them left: three girls and Daniel. I kept my head down, flipping through the pages without really reading, trying to seem engrossed in the text. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Daniel glancing around nervously, the easy grin he wore earlier fading as the noise in the room quieted. Then, as if suddenly realizing my presence, Daniel walked over to me, a decent-sized grin plastered on his face.


    "Hey, Owen! I didn''t notice you came today," he said, his voice carrying a forced cheerfulness. I wasn''t really bothered that he hadn''t noticed me until now. What stung was that he only approached me because he was left alone with the girls and felt uncomfortable. It wasn''t friendship that brought him over, but convenience.


    I glanced over at the three girls who had fallen silent, their expressionless stares fixed on us. I could feel something stir inside me-resentment, maybe, or just a dull pang of being second choice. It was like I was a safe harbor, not because anyone wanted to be there, but because the alternative was less appealing. "Yeah, fun as always," I replied, keeping my tone light. "Ended the run soon yesterday-game got too hard. And since I woke up late today, I didn''t even get to have my breakfast." I lied, not because I felt uncomfortable telling him the truth, but because I had told him this same story countless times before. Daniel didn''t really know my past. To him, I was just the guy who liked video games and lived without parents. I didn''t want to bore him with the reality of my life or rehash the same old lines.


    The girls had stopped watching us and resumed chatting among themselves. Among them was Carla-a decent-looking girl with average height for her age. She was Daniel''s crush, and the only reason he had joined the cultural group was to get partnered with her. A bold move, I''d say, even for someone like him who usually kept to himself.


    "So, how''s that going?" I asked, nodding toward Carla. His smile wavered slightly, the bravado slipping for a moment.


    "I mean, I''m trying," he replied, a hint of frustration in his voice. "But I couldn''t just say the words out loud. We played truth or dare yesterday, and I got forced to spill the beans. I told them... in front of Carla too. I told them I liked her. Not that I loved her, just that I liked her." I raised an eyebrow.


    "So, what was her reply?"


    Daniel''s smile faltered slightly. "She blushed, that''s it. It made me glad that she didn''t outright reject me or anything." From what I could see, Daniel was a good-looking, athletic guy, standing over 170 cm tall. He was one of the best sportsmen in the school. If I were to judge by his physique and charm, there wasn''t really a chance that Carla wouldn''t like him. Who knows, maybe she had liked him all along, and her blush was just a sign that she was shy or uncertain about how to respond.


    I nodded, trying to offer some encouragement. "Well, at least she didn''t laugh or get uncomfortable. That''s a good sign, right?" Daniel shrugged, his eyes darting toward Carla, who was now engaged in animated conversation with the other girls.


    "I guess. It''s just... hard to gauge. I mean, she didn''t exactly say anything. It''s like I threw the ball, but I''m not sure if she caught it or just let it drop."


    Before I could respond, a teacher''s voice called out from the doorway. "Daniel Morris, Carla Hernandez, you''re up next for practice." Daniel''s face lit up with a mix of relief and nervousness. "Well, that''s my cue," he said, giving a sheepish smile. "Wish me luck." "Good luck," I said, watching as Daniel and Carla gathered their things and left the room, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.


    With the two of them gone, the room felt even more subdued. I glanced at the two remaining girls, who were now whispering to each other, their voices low and uninterested. The atmosphere was thick with an awkward silence, and I felt the weight of being the only one left behind.


    As I sat there, my attention shifted back to my book, though my mind was far from the organic chemistry in front of me. The absence of Daniel and Carla left me with the two girls who barely acknowledged my presence, and the quiet between us felt almost as heavy as the unspoken tension as the time went by.


    Soon, it was time for me to be called for my chemistry lessons. I walked to Mr. Clarke''s office, the head of the Chemistry Department. When I entered, he looked up from a stack of papers with a slightly apologetic expression. "Ah, Owen, sorry for the delay," Mr. Clarke said, adjusting his glasses. "I had a few tasks that kept me from calling you earlier."


    "No problem, sir," I replied, trying to sound casual. "I was reading the book on my own anyway." Mr. Clarke nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "Well, if that''s the case, why don''t we just have a quick test and wrap this up? I imagine you''ve got math right after this, don''t you?" I agreed with a nod, and he handed me a sheet of paper with ten questions, each worth one mark.


    The simplicity of the test was a relief, and I could already see that it was designed to assess basic understanding rather than challenge me too much. "Just finish this up and we''ll be done," Mr. Clarke said, settling back into his chair. "If you have any questions or need more time, let me know." I took the paper and found a seat in the corner of the office, focusing on the questions.


    The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of paper and the faint hum of the office''s air conditioning. As I worked through the test, I couldn''t help but feel a sense of relief that the end of this part of the day was so close. The questions on the test weren''t particularly tough. If I had put in a bit more effort and used my brain, I could have finished within 30 minutes. But my laziness got the better of me, and I ended up dragging the test out for a full hour before submitting it.


    Mr. Clarke reviewed my paper with a critical eye, and when he handed it back, the score was a solid 7 marks. "You have a grasp of the concepts, Owen," he said, looking up from the paper with a mixture of encouragement and frustration. "But you really need to work on your handwriting and neatness. Just look at this compound structure-it looks like you''ve drawn some stick figures fighting each other."


    I glanced at the paper, noting the chaotic scrawl of my drawings. I had been partly imagining a battle while drawing them, which probably didn''t help. "Sorry about that," I mumbled. Mr. Clarke sighed, though his expression softened. "It''s clear you understand the material, but presentation matters too. It''s part of making sure you can communicate your ideas clearly." I nodded, feeling the weight of his words.


    "So, can I go now, sir?" He looked at my face, noting the lack of interest or enthusiasm. "Sure, just make sure you improve on your neatness next time."


    I gathered my things and left the office, the score of 7 marks and Mr. Clarke''s advice hanging in the back of my mind. As I walked down the hallway to my class, I couldn''t help but reflect on how much effort-or the lack thereof-seemed to define my days.

 End Of a Life

    When I returned to the classroom, I found that the two girls had already left. I glanced at the clock on the wall; it was nearly noon. With a resigned sigh, I dropped into my seat and closed my eyes, letting the weight of the morning settle over me. As I lifted my hand to touch my face, I was struck once again by how much I had changed. I was no longer the carefree kid I used to be. In a few years, I''d be a man expected to take on adult responsibilities¡ªmarriage, children, a future that seemed like a distant, abstract concept now, but one that would inevitably become reality.


    The thought lingered in my mind, a heavy reminder of the life that lay ahead. Would this endless cycle of monotony ever end? Would there ever be a moment when I felt truly content or at ease? My head fell onto the desk, the cool surface pressing against my forehead. Maybe a nap wasn''t such a bad idea. I let my eyes drift closed, allowing the quiet of the empty classroom to envelop me. For a moment, I surrendered to the stillness, hoping that sleep would offer a brief escape from the weight of my thoughts and the pressing reality of the future.


    The nap didn''t last long. I was jolted awake by the cacophony of cracking laughter and shrill screams that filled the classroom. It didn''t really surprise me¡ªafter all, noise was a constant companion in this school¡ªbut what did catch my attention was the clock''s display: 12:46. Lunch time had slipped away without me. I looked up and saw the group of seven gathered around a round table, enjoying their lunch.


    Their break had been delayed due to their practice session, so they were just now having their meal. The sight of them, laughing and talking animatedly, was impossible to ignore. I stared at them, unable to mask the intensity of my feelings. Their joy was palpable, each smile and burst of laughter a stark contrast to the emptiness I felt. The easy camaraderie they shared, the sense of carefree relief, and the way they seemed to be completely in the moment¡ªit all pressed heavily on my chest.


    What I felt was unmistakable: envy. It wasn''t just a fleeting emotion but a deep, gnawing ache. They were immersed in a world of connection and lightheartedness that felt so distant from my own reality. Each shared joke and warm smile was a reminder of what I was missing, amplifying the loneliness that I often tried to ignore. It was as though their happiness was a mirror reflecting my own sense of isolation, making the contrast between their world and mine all the more glaring. The envy simmered within me, a mix of longing and self-awareness. I wished I could be part of that laughter, that sense of belonging. But for now, all I could do was sit in silence, watching as the moments of joy that seemed so out of reach unfolded before me.


    I realized too late that I had been staring without any attempt to conceal it. When I finally snapped back to reality, I saw that they had noticed me¡ªevery single one of them. The school, usually bustling with activity, felt eerily quiet now, with most teachers and students absent for the day. The emptiness seemed to amplify the situation, making it feel like a perfect stage for conflict.


    Rob, always eager to assert his dominance, stood up, but there was a playful air to him. His grin spread wide as he spoke, his tone dripping with mockery, though not truly threatening. "Hey, I know you''re a bit of a freak," he said, his voice teasing more than menacing, "but staring at girls like that for so long? Even for a freak, that¡¯s going too far."


    The room felt charged with anticipation, but it wasn¡¯t the dangerous kind. The girls exchanged glances, their discomfort turning into a strange excitement. Some even leaned forward, clearly curious, as if they were waiting for something to happen. The tension wasn¡¯t heavy¡ªit was more like the room was ready for a show.


    Before I could react, Daniel tried to step in, his voice calm, trying to ease things down. "It¡¯s alright, Rob. He didn¡¯t mean anything by it. He¡¯s just tired, probably woke up because of all the noise."


    Rob turned to Daniel with an amused grin. "Oh, come on, Dan. You might say that, but staring at girls for that long? Who knows, maybe he¡¯ll start stalking them next." Instead of feeling uncomfortable, the girls seemed almost entertained, some watching with smiles and excited expressions. One of them, sitting near the back, let out a soft "Ooh, this is gonna be good," as if she couldn¡¯t wait to see what Rob would do next.


    Rob took a step closer to me, grabbing my collar with a grin on his face, clearly playing up the drama for his audience. The girls were watching intently, leaning forward in anticipation. I could hear a couple of them whispering excitedly, one saying, "I bet he''s really going to punch him," while another giggled softly, clearly enjoying the show.


    But just as Rob pulled his fist back, ready to strike, Daniel stepped between us, grabbing Rob''s arm in mid-swing. There was a noticeable sigh of disappointment from a couple of the girls, one even groaning in frustration as if the punch she¡¯d been waiting for had been canceled. "Ugh, Daniel!" one of them muttered, clearly let down by his interference.


    Clara, Daniel¡¯s crush, was watching too, her eyes fixed on him. But unlike the others, she didn¡¯t seem disappointed. In fact, she looked at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to handle the situation in his usual calm, composed way. When Daniel held Rob back and kept the fight from escalating, Clara''s expression softened, a faint smile crossing her lips as she seemed relieved and content that Daniel had stepped in and stopped things before they got worse.


    Rob, still grinning, chuckled as he glanced at the disappointed girls. "Come on, Dan, really? They were looking forward to that," he said with a laugh. The girls exchanged glances again, a few giggling quietly. One of them, still hopeful for more action, shouted, "Come on, Rob! Don¡¯t let him stop you!"


    Rob shrugged, clearly enjoying himself, but he let go of my collar and turned his attention to Daniel. "Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But Dan, I¡¯ve always wondered¡ªwho would win between us? You with your football legs, or me with my height and reach? The girls might¡¯ve wanted to see me smack Owen, but I bet they¡¯d love to see us go at it." His voice was filled with amusement, as if he was suggesting a playful match rather than a serious fight.


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    At this, one of the girls, clearly excited by the idea, called out, "Yeah, let¡¯s see who¡¯s really stronger!" Her voice was full of enthusiasm, and a few others joined in, cheering them on, their eyes glinting with excitement at the thought of seeing Rob and Daniel go head to head.


    Daniel sighed, clearly not interested in turning this into an actual fight. "No need for that, Rob. You¡¯re just messing around," he said, his voice steady but firm. He was trying to keep things from spiraling, but Rob was still grinning, enjoying the attention from the girls.


    "Come on, just for fun," Rob said with a playful shove, throwing a light jab at Daniel¡¯s side. One of the girls cheered loudly, her eyes lighting up as the two boys squared off, even though it was clear this wasn¡¯t a serious fight. Rob¡¯s smile never faded as he danced around, throwing playful punches. He was clearly just having fun, and Daniel knew it too. But Daniel¡¯s focus remained on keeping things from escalating.


    Clara watched Daniel carefully, her gaze following his every move. She didn¡¯t seem concerned that the fight would get serious¡ªshe knew Daniel wouldn¡¯t let it. When she saw him calmly block Rob¡¯s jabs and deescalate the situation, her face relaxed, and the tension in her posture eased. A small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips as she watched Daniel handle things exactly as she¡¯d expected. She looked content, knowing that he hadn¡¯t let the situation get out of hand.


    The girls continued to cheer, clearly enjoying the playful fight, but it was obvious Rob wasn¡¯t aiming to hurt anyone. He kept laughing and dodging, his movements light and teasing, while Daniel stayed calm, blocking every punch effortlessly. The whole thing felt more like a performance than a real conflict, and the girls seemed to love it, their earlier disappointment fading as they got the spectacle they wanted after all.


    Eventually, Rob backed off, still grinning. "Not bad, Dan," he said, wiping his forehead. "You¡¯ve got some moves." The girls cheered one last time as the two boys stepped back from each other, their energy still buzzing from the playful fight.


    As the excitement in the room began to settle, Rob shot me one last playful look. "Maybe next time, freak," he said with a wink, clearly not serious but still enjoying himself. The girls giggled softly as the tension finally dissipated, the moment of drama passing, leaving behind only the faint hum of adrenaline in the air.


    Fights among the students were common at this school. Unlike my previous institution, where conflicts were quickly quelled, here no one seemed to care. I''d seen Rob get into brawls more than a few times during sports, but this was the first time I''d witnessed Daniel act. With Rob''s unfazed reaction, I figured they might have clashed before during their games.


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    Then, suddenly, like an apple falling from the tree, Daniel collapsed to the ground. My heart skipped a beat, and a surge of confusion swept over me. Josh, the other guy who had, like me, opted to remain on the sidelines, hurried over to Daniel''s side. His expression shifted from curiosity to alarm as he assessed the situation. "He isn''t breathing," Josh said, his voice quivering with anxiety. Rob''s face went pale, his bravado crumbling in an instant. "What? No way¡ªI was completely holding back!" He fell to his knees beside Daniel, his hands shaking as he tried to rouse him. The room erupted into a new kind of chaos.


    Rob, now frantic, attempted to wake Daniel, shaking him gently, then more urgently. His panic was evident, his previously tough demeanor replaced by genuine fear. The girls had gathered around, their faces a mixture of shock and concern. They didn¡¯t seem so entertained now, and if anything, I hated them more than I hated Rob. All their cheers and excitement had suddenly transformed into terror, but it was too late for any of that. I watched the scene unfold, my mind racing, but not with guilt¡ªjust with a gnawing confusion. How had this happened? A simple fight, something as trivial as Rob and Daniel exchanging playful punches, had spiraled into something I couldn''t understand. Was it really because of the fight? Did something else happen? My thoughts felt like they were colliding with each other, none of them making any sense.


    As Rob continued to try and wake Daniel, I stood there, a bystander to something that was beginning to feel less real by the second. Nothing in this moment added up. People don¡¯t just collapse from a few punches, especially not Daniel, who had been holding his own. What was happening?


    "I''ll call someone!" a girl shouted¡ªErin, I think¡ªher voice trembling with desperation as she sprinted toward the doorway. But before she could make it even halfway, she too collapsed, her body hitting the floor with a heavy, final thud. "Erin!" another voice cried out. It was Carla Hernandez. She rushed toward her fallen friend, panic in her eyes, only to stumble and fall herself, landing beside Erin''s lifeless body. Her glasses cracked upon impact, fragments scattering across the floor.


    I stood frozen. Now even the girls were falling? But how? There wasn¡¯t anything to trip over. This couldn¡¯t be real. But as I watched their still bodies lying on the floor, something dark and ominous sank into the pit of my stomach.


    Before I could even process what was happening, the others started dropping like flies. First, Rica, then Josh, followed by the other girl, and finally even Rob. It was surreal¡ªa nightmare playing out in front of me. They all lay sprawled on the floor, unmoving, like grotesque, lifeless dolls. The room, once alive with noise and energy, was now eerily silent.


    My mind tried to grasp the situation, but nothing made sense. Could there be some kind of gas leak? Maybe poison? No, but how would it have affected only them and not me? The possibilities whirled through my head like a whirlwind, but none of them stuck. Nothing explained why they had all collapsed, one by one, like that.


    In the midst of my confusion, I took a step back, my body unsteady, as if the ground beneath me were swaying. But before I could fully regain my balance, I tripped over my bag and went stumbling backward. My head collided with the sharp corner of a desk, and a sudden, blinding pain shot through my skull.


    The impact was brutal, jarring. I heard a dull thud, felt a warm trickle at the back of my neck, but my mind was too foggy to make sense of it. My vision blurred as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed me.


    As I lay there, struggling to stay conscious, the world around me spun out of control. The confusion that had plagued me moments ago now gave way to something darker¡ªa terrifying sense of inevitability. The classroom, the bodies on the floor, everything began to fade as the blackness closed in, smothering the last traces of light.


    The final shard of consciousness slipped from my grasp, and with it, everything else vanished into the abyss.


    I died.

 Beginning Of a Story

    My consciousness floated in an eerie void, surrounded by a profound, unsettling silence. Numerous questions and thoughts swirled in my head. Was this just another hellish dream? If so, should I feel relieved or troubled by it? Why had my life not ended already? If this wasn''t a dream, what was it?


    The faces of those I had just witnessed having fun¡ªsomething I hadn''t experienced in the past five years¡ªflashed through my mind. Had it all been for nothing? Their lifeless corpses, an indelible image etched into my memory, only deepened my confusion.


    As I spiraled through these thoughts, a voice cut through the void.


    "Child," the voice said, its tone ambiguous, resonating deeply within my soul. I became aware, my consciousness surfacing. It felt as though I was floating in a vast, boundless ocean. I opened my eyes to a world of black and grey.


    What struck terror into my senses was the presence of a figure¡ªa dark, indistinct shape. It loomed like a giant shadow, its form wavering and shifting. The figure''s gaze seemed to penetrate into my very essence.


    "Child!" the voice thundered. "Are you yet aware?"


    I dared not answer, yet the words forced themselves out of my mouth as if I had been commanded and ignoring was not an option. "Yes, I am awake."


    "Do you know who you are?" the voice asked.


    "Yes, my name is Owen of the Rowe family," I replied without hesitation.


    "Good. Do you know what happened to you?"


    I paused to gather my thoughts, then recounted everything I remembered¡ªthe sudden collapse of the bodies, the chaotic scene, and my own attempt to escape, which led to my fatal fall.


    The shadow seemed to contemplate my words. "Ugh, what a disgusting situation we are in," it said. "The orb absorbs every life it detects during the reckoning. Your death occurring simultaneously with the episode was unprecedented."


    "The orb?" I asked, my confusion growing. "What do you mean? What episode? Who are you?"


    The voice let out a weary sigh. "Have you ever heard of reincarnation?" it asked, its tone carrying a hint of impatience.


    I thought about it, recalling everything I knew from stories, books, and anime. The concept seemed familiar but surreal. "Am I being reincarnated?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mixture of hope and dread.


    "I''m not entirely sure about you," the voice replied, "but your friends definitely are."


    "My friends?" I echoed, stunned. Did it mean the ones I had witnessed dying? A pang of sorrow and disbelief surged through me. "And what about me? Why am I here, alone, and not part of that process?"


    "It''s because you were not the intended target of the episode," the voice explained, its tone steady but carrying an edge of frustration. "The orb was designed to absorb only the seven students. Somehow, it ended up taking you as well. The system I work with operates on a limited number of runes each period of time, specifically for seven individuals from a timeline. You, being the eighth person, caused an overflow that the system couldn''t accommodate. As a result, the game rejected you. Unless I can pay for extra runes, which I am currently unable to do, you cannot be reincarnated into the game."


    I tried to process the flood of information. In the vast void where I found myself, I couldn''t hear my heartbeat, and I wasn''t even sure if being here counted as truly living. There was nothing but the shadow before me. I couldn''t see anything else, feel anything, or move my body. It was as if I was suspended in a state between existence and nonexistence.


    I thought about Daniel, Rob, and the others. They had seemingly been sacrificed and were on their way to a new reality. The idea of the "game" puzzled me. What did it mean? I had read countless comics and watched many shows about survival worlds, where one had to play to survive. Could this be something similar?


    The dark figure seemed to peer into my very essence, as if assessing my thoughts. "You are not entirely mistaken, child," it said. "Your contemplations are correct. The world of the game does operate in a manner akin to what you''ve read or watched, though it is far more complex and different from those portrayals."


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    The shadow''s voice took on a more serious tone. "You have two options. The first is to remain here, trapped in this void between realities. You would float here forever, existing in a state of limbo, free from harm but also devoid of purpose or connection."


    It paused, allowing the weight of that choice to sink in before continuing. "The second option is to use the remaining power I have left for the moment to reincarnate your soul into a new body, merging it with a few other souls. This would entangle your fate with a new reality¡ªone that holds horrors beyond your imagination and difficulties you cannot begin to fathom. It will be a harsh and challenging existence, but it will also offer the possibility of a remarkable destiny."


    The shadow''s words hung in the air, and the choice felt both daunting and profound. Would I choose the eternal float of peace and emptiness, or the tumultuous path of a new life fraught with unimaginable trials? The decision was mine to make, with the fate of my existence hanging in the balance.


    My decision was both instinctual and defiant. Five years of relentless monotony had hardened me, rendering me numb to the endless cycle of solitude and despair. The thought of spending eternity in this cold, empty void¡ªan endless, soulless matrix¡ªwas far more terrifying than the unknown perils of a new world. The prospect of facing death, suffering, or even a thousand failures was infinitely preferable to the certainty of an unchanging, lifeless existence.


    The shadow''s presence seemed to pulsate with a dark, foreboding energy, as if it understood the gravity of my choice. Though its form remained obscured and shifting, I felt a peculiar sense of approval emanating from it. "Very well, child," the voice intoned, its tone resonating with an ancient, almost primordial force. "This may be a significant toll on me, but it may also yield unforeseen benefits in the future. May you find the life you have yearned for. I will endeavor to reincarnate your soul in proximity to your fellow beings. Surviving alone in this game is unfeasible. May the heavens be with you. May, The Game, be with you..."


    As the shadow''s words echoed through the void, its dark form seemed to swell and grow, expanding in size. A tiny, brilliant light emerged from what I could only imagine was its forehead. This minute spark of illumination began to intensify, radiating an otherworldly brilliance that pierced through the encompassing darkness. The void, once a cold, oppressive expanse, was now illuminated by this piercing light, casting long, ethereal shadows and bathing the space in an almost celestial glow.


    I closed my eyes, letting the overwhelming brightness engulf me. The darkness that had once been my shroud was replaced by a blinding radiance that felt almost like a rebirth. I felt a smile stretch across my face, and a deep, resonant laugh escaped my lips¡ªan expression of pure, unadulterated joy that I hadn''t experienced in years. My hands, previously immobilized by the void''s grip, now moved freely. I reached out to grasp the burgeoning light, feeling an intense wave of determination and newfound hope surge within me.


    "Watch," I thought, my resolve hardening. "This time, I won''t falter. Parents? Friends? Bonds? Connections? Fuck Them All. The years of Tartarus I have borne.  The sharp gazes and derisive stares I''ve endured, the echoes of a life mired in ruin¡ªa life shattered by the failures of those who brought me into this world. Their mistakes, their shortcomings, had become my burden, a chain that bound me to a life of unyielding desolation.


    But no more. I refuse to be defined by their failures any longer. I will not be the shadow of my parents'' ineptitude. I will not let their shortcomings dictate my fate. I was crafted by the harsh hands of fate, molded by the relentless trials of my existence. But now, as I stand on the precipice of a new reality, I am no longer a mere product of circumstance. Now, I am what I become.


    In this new world, amidst the darkness and the unknown, I will forge my own path. I will seize my destiny with both hands and shape it to my will. No longer will I be a pawn in the game of life, driven by the whims of others.


    I am not what I was made to be; I am what I decide to become. And in this uncharted realm, I will carve out a new identity¡ªone that transcends the failures of my past and embraces the boundless potential of my future.


    "Do you wish to bear a new name in this world?" The voice''s query echoed through the void.


    A name. My mind raced through countless possibilities, but one name surfaced from the depths of my memory, a relic from my past life.


    "New name? Well, I suppose I could go with something I used to use... Eldric Zephyris," I answered. It was my in-game name, one that felt oddly fitting in this surreal moment. Even though I had once considered it somewhat childish, it seemed appropriate for this new chapter of my existence.


    In a cataclysmic burst of light, the void seemed to implode, folding in upon itself. For a fraction of a moment, I ceased to exist¡ªan ephemeral transition between states of being. Then, with a sudden, jarring sensation, I felt what I could only interpret as the ground beneath me. A cool, calculated voice resonated in my mind, imbued with an air of grandiosity and mechanical precision: "Welcome to the game!"


    The words echoed with an almost prophetic resonance, as if marking the beginning of an epic saga. The world I was about to enter promised trials and tribulations of unimaginable scope. But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt truly alive¡ªready to embrace whatever darkness and grandeur awaited me in this new reality.

 One Last Game

    I dropped to the ground, my hands instinctively reaching out, grasping at nothing but air. My eyes shot open, but all I could see was a blinding whiteness, like I had been hit with a flashbang. I blinked rapidly, struggling to clear my vision. Slowly, sounds started to seep back in¡ªa distant rustling of leaves, the faint chirping of birds, and the subtle, calming whisper of the wind. My ears were coming back online, but my sight remained dazed, everything still veiled in a hazy white mist.


    I took a deep breath and tried to sit up, the sensation of fine, soft soil beneath my fingers grounding me. The ground felt uneven, dotted with patches of something rough¡ªleaves, maybe bushes? The scent of earth filled my nostrils, rich and slightly damp, as if it had just rained. I stayed seated, taking stock of my body. I flexed my fingers, rolled my wrists, and wiggled my toes inside my shoes. Everything seemed to be in working order. I was not sure about whether I should stand yet. The void''s voice still in my ears. It had described a land of suffering, something which resembled hell, but what I saw was something completely different.


    The scene before me was far from the nightmare I had imagined. Overhead, a vast sky stretched endlessly, painted in a brilliant blue with soft, scattered clouds drifting lazily across. I was surrounded by towering trees, their branches swaying gently, casting speckled shadows on the forest floor. It was a forest¡ªpeaceful, serene, and almost welcoming in its quiet stillness.


    I stood up slowly, assuming there was no immediate threat. The place around me didn''t match the grim, hellish landscape I had envisioned when I first heard that voice in the void. I had been expecting something straight out of a nightmare, yet this forest seemed almost peaceful.


    "Why does this place not match what I had in mind?" I wondered aloud, my voice barely above a whisper.


    "It''s because this isn''t a main level," a voice buzzed in my head. It was the same voice that had welcomed me when I was teleported here, sudden and invasive, but strangely familiar.


    I steadied myself, piecing together the situation. "You''re some kind of messenger from the system, right?" I asked, recalling what I had read in countless stories¡ªhow reincarnated main characters were often guided by some system entity or messenger.


    "Yes," the voice replied, with a tone that suggested it was almost amused by my understanding. "From what I''ve seen in your memories, you''re quite familiar with this concept¡ªmessengers from the system who assist those who are reincarnated."


    "Yeah, I''ve read about it," I admitted, feeling a mix of unease and curiosity. "Messengers who usually help only one main character. But I''m guessing you''re different."


    "Something like that," the voice responded. "I don''t just help one; you''re not the only one I guide during the beginning."


    That much was clear. Unlike the usual fantasy stories where one hero gets pulled into another world, this was different¡ªmore chaotic, unpredictable. We were a group, tossed here together, and this world seemed to have rules all its own, far from the predictable patterns of the stories I once knew.


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    I couldn''t help but compare this to the countless comics I had read, where the main character always had to become the strongest to vanquish the evil threatening the world. I hoped it was like that¡ªwhere there was a clear goal, a path to power, and the promise of becoming a hero who could change everything.


    "Or is this going to be like one of those stories," I murmured, half to myself, "where I have to become the strongest to defeat some great evil?" I paused, letting the thought linger. "I hope it''s the latter."


    The voice in my head stayed silent for a moment, as if contemplating my words. I felt a strange mix of anticipation and dread, waiting for a response. The idea of becoming the strongest was thrilling, a clear mission I could chase, but there was no guarantee this world would play by those rules.


    "You''ll have to discover that for yourself," the voice finally replied, its tone inscrutable. "This world doesn''t always follow the narratives you''re used to."


    I knew it. The feeling of standing on the moist soil. This wasn''t the same feeling I get when I read the books on my bed. This was real. I could hear. I could see. I could decide. I am not following the story of any other protagonist. Here, in this reality, I... could be the main character. That''s right. I felt a sense of relief and thrill. Here, I am the Protagonist.


    "You have to become strong, just strong enough to reach the peak," the messenger''s voice resonated in my mind, each word filled with purpose. "For that, you will have to-"


    Before the voice could finish, I heard human voices in the distance. I paused, the sound pulling me from the messenger''s unfinished statement. I moved cautiously towards the noise, careful to keep my footsteps light and my presence hidden. Reaching a ridge, I peered down, keeping myself low and out of sight.


    In the clearing below, Rob was crouched over, striking stones together, trying to start a fire. Nearby, another boy was setting up branches in what looked like an attempt to build a shelter. Further off, four girls sat together on a rock, whispering among themselves, their expressions anxious as they comforted one of their own. It was clear they were unsettled, unhappy with being brought to this place.


    I scanned the scene, not out of concern but out of practicality. It was good to know where everyone was, to see how they were managing. My eyes settled on Daniel, emerging from the bushes with an armful of sticks. For a brief moment, I considered approaching him¡ªthere were things I might say, things left unsaid between us. But now wasn''t the time. I wasn''t here to make amends or seek comfort. I had lived alone long enough to know that I didn''t need anyone else to move forward.


    With a quiet exhale, I pulled back from the ridge, deciding to keep my distance for now. I wasn''t worried about making connections or finding a place among them. My focus was on survival and getting stronger, just like the messenger had said. The rest could wait. For now, I would watch and learn, making my own moves when the time was right.


    "Can you hear me if I just think, or do I have to talk out loud?" I asked, testing the limits of our connection. The idea of having to speak everything aloud seemed like a hassle, especially if I needed to keep quiet.


    "I can hear you clearly," the voice responded. "You don''t have to speak."


    "Perfect," I thought, relieved at the convenience. "Can you tell me more about the main level you mentioned and why we''re here?"


    "Absolutely, but for that, I need to explain everything from the beginning," the voice said, a hint of amusement coloring its tone. "It would be best if you got comfortable, maybe in a position you''d take to nap."


    "Is this going to be long?" I asked, not in any particular rush but preferring to keep things concise.


    "Yes, but I can stick to the essentials if that''s what you want."


    "Yeah, I''ll take the main points," I agreed. I leaned back against a tree, pulling some leaves and branches over myself to stay hidden. It wasn''t an urgent situation¡ªI just wanted to hear what mattered for now.


    "All right, I''m set. So, what do I need to do here, and what''s my objective?"

 New Dawn, New Day

    [The Game isn''t a simple simulation¡ªit''s a vast, pitiless Metaverse, where 100 levels stretch like endless nightmares, each one a universe unto itself, each a distorted reality. It exists not for amusement but for its own cruel purpose: to be played. The players? Mere specks in the grand design, lesser beings thrown into a pit of torment with no promise of escape. Here, power is the only currency, and the price of weakness is paid in suffering and blood.


    There is no justice in this place. There is no balance, no fairness¡ªonly the ruthless hierarchy of strength. If you lack power, you will be torn apart, begging for an end that will not come. If you possess power, you are only a target, prey to those who sit above, ready to crush any spark of defiance beneath the weight of their might. Every step is a battle, every breath a struggle against forces that care nothing for your existence.


    Survival demands more than strength; it requires endurance, the relentless drive to claw your way out of the abyss. Your enemies are not just foes; they are barriers, the living embodiment of the cosmos that seeks to break you. You must tear them down, seize every fragment of power, and force your way up the chain. But to rise is to cross entire realities, to conquer worlds that defy understanding. Each level is a new universe, a new hell, demanding everything you have and more.


    The ascent is an endless war against the fabric of existence itself. It is not about winning but enduring, outlasting the madness that seeks to consume you. Each level is another universe shattered, another reality bent to your will. But there are no laurels here, no triumphs¡ªonly the cold, grinding climb to the top, where the line between victory and survival blurs into nothingness.


    This Metaverse doesn''t craft heroes; it carves deities from the bones of the damned. To reach the peak is not to win but to transcend, to become the very thing that once oppressed you. The Game does not seek champions; it seeks gods. Those who rise do so on the ruins of a thousand broken worlds, their ascension a testament to the unyielding spirit that refuses to bow.


    At the summit, there are no celebrations, no absolutions¡ªonly the grim acknowledgment of what it took to get there. The peak is not a prize but a throne built on despair, a cold and empty place where gods are forged not from victory, but from the relentless, unforgiving crucible of a multiverse that devours all but the strongest.]


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    I woke up as dawn''s first light began to creep over the horizon, marking the start of a new day. The messenger had already given me a detailed explanation, despite promising only a summary of the main points. The reality of this world, even if it''s just a dummy level, is harsh and grim. I could see now why the girls had been so concerned.


    I turned to the messenger. "When will they be transferred to the main level?"


    "It''s their choice," it replied. "But you cannot be transferred to the main level until you develop your Rune."


    The Rune. A stone or core that embodies one''s abilities or power. The messenger had told me that it wasn''t something you summoned. Instead, you sought it out, and only when it deemed you worthy would it reveal itself. You had to search for it, yearn for it, and prove yourself deserving.


    "And if I manage to find my Rune?" I pressed.


    "Then you will need to complete basic tasks until you are considered fit for the game."


    "And if I fail to find my Rune?"


    "You will remain here, in the World of Beginnings."


    "Are there others who failed to obtain their Rune and are still trapped here?"


    "Yes," the messenger confirmed. "They are immortal while they stay here. Yet, most eventually choose to reproduce with their partners."


    "And what then?"


    "Reproducing here results in the loss of immortality. The child born in this world signifies a transition to a mortal existence."


    "So, they effectively die," I mused.


    "In a sense," the messenger acknowledged. "They live out their lives as ordinary humans, free from the eternal cycle of this place."


    So we still have a choice, I thought as I saw the group sleeping. A thought crossed my mind. Rob and Dan were still awake. I wondered if they needed food in this world.


    "No, they do not," the messenger replied. "In fact, they would remain alive even if they slept for eternity."


    A faint smile touched my lips. I had countless questions swirling in my mind, but I hesitated to ask the messenger. Not because I was scared. But because I wondered if the messenger is truly my ally. In this world info could be the key. What was that shadow in the abyss? And what was meant by the notion of mixing my soul with others? I was the one who wasn''t supposed to be here, it seemed.


    "Well then, goodbye, my fellow classmates," I whispered, feeling a pang of finality. I needed to focus on finding my Rune.


    I started my Journey.

 Kingdom Of The Runed King

    The kingdom was farther from the first castle than I had imagined. If I were a typical character from a fiction series, trekking through miles of hills and forests might sound like a grand adventure. But now, with every step I took, I realized just how exhausting it truly was. My body was weary, my legs aching from the constant climb, and the weight of my past seemed to add to the burden of the present.


    As I trudged along the rugged path, I found myself reminiscing about the years when travel was a luxury, not a chore. It had been nearly six years since I used to glide effortlessly between cities in premium cars, chauffeured by a personal driver. I recalled my father''s gift¡ªhis old car, handed to me for my birthday. I was too young to drive it myself, but I had a personal driver to take me around. Back then, I''d felt a pang of guilt, believing the used car was beneath me. I was infuriated by the thought of driving something so "ordinary," but my father didn''t care. Our collection expanded to include a private yacht and even a jet. My travels were effortless and my experiences confined to the plush interiors of these luxury vehicles.


    I had been so arrogant, so blinded by my own privilege. My money attracted people who called themselves my friends, yet none were genuine. The opulence of my life seemed endless until, in a cruel twist, it all vanished. The assets were liquidated to clear mounting debts, leaving me alone in a dilapidated mansion with just a few indifferent caretakers. The mansion, once grand, now stood as a ruin, reflecting the shattered remnants of my former life. My caretakers cared little for me, their interest only in the dwindling funds.


    The school I was forced into was obscure and unknown, and even though they managed to reduce the fees, it was a far cry from the prestigious institutions of my past. I had no source of income and no one to confide in.


    Somehow, despite the seemingly endless miles, I had managed to reach halfway to the kingdom.


    The once exhilarating promise of adventure had become a grueling test of endurance. My throat was parched, each breath dry and rasping, and my stomach growled in protest against the emptiness within.


    In the midst of this relentless trek, I stumbled upon a cluster of strange fruits growing on a low shrub. Their colors were vivid¡ªbright oranges and deep purples¡ªcontrasting starkly with the muted greens of the surrounding foliage. I approached cautiously, examining the fruits'' glossy skins and odd shapes. They looked both inviting and untrustworthy.


    I pulled a few from the bush, their weight light in my hand. Turning to the messenger, who had been a constant presence during the journey, I inquired, "Are these fruits safe to eat?"


    The messenger studied the fruits with a practiced eye before nodding. "Yes, they''re safe enough. Though they might not be the most palatable, they will serve to alleviate your hunger and thirst for a short time."


    I took a tentative bite. The fruit was sweet, but the flavor was tinged with an odd, almost acrid aftertaste that lingered unpleasantly on my tongue. Still, it provided some relief from the gnawing hunger and persistent thirst that plagued me.


    In an effort to understand more about my condition, I turned to the messenger. "Why am I feeling such intense hunger and thirst if I can survive without food?"


    The messenger''s response was pragmatic, tinged with a tone of practiced wisdom. "While your body can endure without sustenance, it will struggle. Food and drink are essential for maintaining stamina and reducing fatigue. You might not die from hunger, but the risk of fainting increases significantly. The rune you seek will greatly enhance your stamina, endurance, strength, and speed, crucial for enduring such arduous journeys."


    As I continued down the path, my gaze wandered over the landscape. The terrain was shifting¡ªdense forests gradually opening up to more cleared fields, with the distant spires of buildings beginning to emerge on the horizon. Yet, the journey was far from over. The land seemed to stretch endlessly, a reminder of the distance still to be covered.


    The journey continued through a meadow that unfolded before me like a canvas painted with vibrant hues. The grasses swayed gently in the breeze, creating waves of green that shimmered in the sunlight. Wildflowers dotted the landscape with splashes of color¡ªdeep blues, vivid purples, and fiery reds. Each bloom seemed to dance with the wind, their delicate petals fluttering as if to beckon me closer.


    The meadow was bordered by a river that wound through the land like a serpentine ribbon of silver. The water flowed with a serene grace, its surface catching the sunlight and scattering a million glints of light. The river''s gentle murmur was a soothing backdrop to the symphony of rustling leaves and birdsong. I could see the pebbles and stones beneath the clear water, each one smooth and polished by the current.


    The air was fragrant with the mingling scents of fresh earth, blooming flowers, and the crispness of the river. I took a moment to breathe deeply, allowing the natural perfume to fill my senses. The tranquility of the riverbank was a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of my past life. The contrast was almost jarring, reminding me of the sterile, unwelcoming atmosphere of my former home, which had been cloaked in shadows and neglect.


    The meadow''s beauty was matched only by the sense of freedom it imparted. The expansive field seemed to stretch endlessly, its undulating terrain a tapestry of natural splendor. Butterflies flitted about, their delicate wings adding to the vibrant scene, while the occasional deer or rabbit darted through the underbrush, a reminder of the life that thrived in this untouched sanctuary.


    The sight of scattered bones caught my eye, partially buried beneath the underbrush. They lay scattered and disjointed, a grim puzzle of white against the dirt. My thoughts darkened with unease as I wondered if these remnants were human.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The horizon gradually revealed the outskirts of the kingdom¡ªa boundary between the wild expanse I had traversed and the structured domain I was about to enter.


    As the first signs of civilization began to materialize, the landscape transitioned from rugged wilderness to a more defined and orderly environment. The distant silhouette of the kingdom''s walls came into view, a signal that the grueling trek was nearing its end.


    For the first time since my arrival in this unfamiliar world, I encountered humans who were not my former classmates. They were working in the fields, their figures outlined against the backdrop of rolling hills. Their labor, though humble and routine, bore an undeniable resemblance to the agrarian scenes of my previous world.


    I made my way toward them, noting the serene beauty of the landscape¡ªthe meadows stretching out in verdant waves, the distant sparkle of a meandering river that cut through the countryside. It was a picture of tranquility and vitality, starkly different from the drab, worn interiors of my previous home.


    As I drew nearer, the workers turned their heads, their expressions shifting from the focused diligence of their tasks to the faint hint of curiosity. Their eyes, though initially distant and absorbed in their work, now regarded me with a trace of confusion. They seemed to sense my unfamiliarity and the slight awkwardness of my presence. I scrutinized their attire for any signs of jewelry or runes.


    One of them, a man whose face was etched with the marks of years of hard labor, spoke to me in a tone that carried both curiosity and mild surprise. "Did you wander off into the hills, young man? Or are you perhaps a¡­ beginner?"


    I stood momentarily at a loss for words, the weight of my past seclusion and lack of interaction with strangers making the situation feel unusually foreign. My experiences had largely been confined to the sterile environment of my mansion and the virtual worlds I frequented. Engaging with people outside that bubble required an adjustment. After a brief pause, I inclined my head in a respectful bow, a gesture of deference I had learned over the years.


    "You are correct, sir," I said, my voice steady despite my internal uncertainty. "I am indeed a beginner and have traveled this far seeking shelter."


    The initial surprise in their eyes seemed to dissolve into a more receptive demeanor. My acknowledgment of my novice status and my request for assistance appeared to open a doorway to a mutual understanding. The workers'' faces, once marked by the hard lines of labor and confusion, now softened with a semblance of acceptance.


    "Vithra!" the old man called out, his voice carrying a note of authority. A young boy, likely in his early teens, came sprinting across the fields.


    "Call the guards," the old man instructed, his gaze shifting back to me with an expression that was both cautious and reassuring.


    The mention of guards set off a flurry of thoughts in my mind. My initial reaction was a surge of apprehension. The term "guards" could signify a range of things¡ªfrom an official escort to potential threats. The notion that they might be summoned to take me into the kingdom was not entirely comforting. However, a more unsettling thought crossed my mind: could it be that the kingdom had a policy of enslaving newcomers or forcing them into labor?


    I silently hoped that my apprehensions were just the product of my overactive imagination and that the situation would unfold in a more positive manner. I had dearly wished that my arrival and request for shelter would be met with understanding and support, rather than the harsh and fearsome outcomes I had conjured in my mind.


    "When did you arrive here, poor soul? And were you the only one summoned?" the old man asked, his tone revealing genuine curiosity beneath the weathered exterior. I noticed how the others, who had briefly paused their work to stare, began to turn back to their tasks, as if my presence was of no particular concern to them after all.


    "I was summoned a week ago," I lied smoothly, though my pulse quickened. "My party was attacked by a mountain lion. I was the only one who survived." The falsehood came easily enough; I wasn''t ready to expose my inexperience to anyone, especially not a stranger whose intentions were still unclear. The messenger had told me plenty about the wildlife of this world on my journey here. It seemed reasonable enough to fabricate a tale of survival¡ªbetter to appear seasoned than clueless. Better not to become a target.


    The old man squinted at me, perhaps weighing the truth of my words, before nodding. "Why don''t you come get a drink? My house isn''t far."


    His offer was sudden, but I wasn''t in the mood to follow strangers to unknown places, especially with the state of exhaustion clawing at me. I was drained, both physically and mentally, and the thought of moving another step, even for a drink, seemed unbearable. "No, I''m exhausted. I''ll rest here," I replied, settling myself onto a nearby rock with a sense of finality.


    For a brief moment, the old man''s expression flickered with what seemed like irritation, though he quickly masked it. "Well, suit yourself," he muttered. "I''ll continue my work, then."


    As he turned and walked back toward the fields, I kept my eyes on him, watching his movements with a wary curiosity. Despite the apparent hospitality, there was something off¡ªperhaps it was just my nerves or the odd shift in his expression when I declined his offer. Either way, I didn''t trust anyone just yet.


    As I rested, I let the quiet settle around me, the sounds of the field workers filling the silence. I needed to recover my strength, but more than that, I needed to figure out my next move. This world, though still new to me, felt far more dangerous than it appeared on the surface.


    I heard the unmistakable sound of horses approaching. Two men, clad in uniforms that marked them as guards, rode into view. Their horses trotted steadily as they closed the distance between us.


    "Are you the beginner?" one of them called out, his voice firm and authoritative.


    I stood up, despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on me. My legs felt like lead, but I managed to respond. "Yes, I am."


    "Hop on," he instructed. I climbed onto the horse behind one of the guards, feeling the powerful animal shift beneath me. The other guard fell in line beside us, and we began to gallop towards the kingdom gates.


    As we approached, the massive gates loomed ahead, their grandeur a stark contrast to the simplicity of the landscape I had just traversed. The guards at the entrance looked up as we arrived, their expressions a blend of curiosity and routine professionalism.


    One of the gatekeepers turned to the leading guard and asked, "Is he the one?"


    "Yes," came the reply from guard, nodding in affirmation.


    The female guard, standing at the gate, cast a final, scrutinizing glance at me. Her gaze was sharp yet not unkind. "Welcome to the Kingdom of the Rune''d King," she said, her voice steady and formal.


    With those words, the gates creaked open, revealing the bustling activity of the kingdom beyond. The vibrant life of the kingdom stretched out before me, a sprawling array of buildings, markets, and people moving with purpose. It was a stark contrast to the isolated and decrepit mansion I had left behind.

 Kingdom Of The Runed King II

    The horses continued their slow pace, giving me a chance to observe the town in more detail. It was a place untouched by the modern world, where life moved at a manual, almost primitive rhythm. People worked with their hands, using wooden carts, hand tools, and pulleys. It felt like stepping back into one of the fantasy books I used to read. No sign of any complex machinery or science here. That should have been obvious enough¡ªafter all, no genius scientists were likely to be summoned to a world like this.


    "The king has forbidden any technological advancements in his kingdom to ensure no weapons of mass destruction are ever made," the messenger suddenly clarified, clearly having picked up on my thoughts. It made sense. While progress could benefit them, it could also lead down a much darker path. The people seemed content enough, though, with no need for such things.


    Few even noticed me as I passed through. The villagers were busy with their daily lives¡ªsome carrying water from a nearby well, others mending clothes, while a group of children played barefoot in the dirt. A woman in a simple dress handed out bread, smiling warmly at the passersby. It was a simple, slow-moving life, one they seemed to embrace without complaint.


    The castle loomed ahead, standing tall on rocky terrain. It was grand, its stone walls gleaming under the sun, solid and unshakable. A fortress that had stood the test of time, and likely wouldn''t crumble anytime soon.


    As we rode, the guard next to me finally spoke. "Did the outsiders offer you anything?" he asked, his voice low and cautious.


    "An old man offered food and drink," I replied. "That''s all."


    "Did you accept?" he pressed.


    "No."


    "A wise choice," he nodded approvingly. "They come from a generation of war prisoners the king captured. He offered them no place within the kingdom itself but gave them land to cultivate. They may still hold a grudge. They have no rights over the river, and whatever assistance they need is provided by the kingdom in exchange for their produce."


    I realized I''d dodged a potential trap. And maybe, just maybe, the king wasn''t as harsh as I''d thought. All the suspicions and doubts swirling in my mind started to settle. Perhaps I had been overthinking things after all.


    I asked the question that had been lingering in my mind for what felt like ages. "Are you a player?" I said, directing it at the guard riding the horse beside me.


    He didn''t respond right away. The silence stretched on, and I didn''t push him for an answer. After a while, he spoke, his voice low and steady. "I come from the family of Lord Borus, one of the first king''s sworn followers. And yes, I am not immortal. When I pass, my son will take up this duty." He gestured briefly behind us. "It''s the same for the one behind us as well."


    "So... are there any players here?" I ventured, careful not to press too hard.


    "Yes, there are," he replied, without much hesitation this time. "They''re mostly nobles, residing comfortably in their mansions."


    "Do the-"


    "Quiet," he ordered, his tone sharp, leaving no room for further inquiry.


    We stopped in front of a sprawling building, its sheer width more impressive than its height. Despite having only two floors, the structure stretched far to either side, occupying an enormous area. The walls were made of pale stone, smooth but weathered, giving the impression that the building had stood here for many years. Large windows lined the upper floor, while the ground floor had fewer, smaller ones, almost as if designed to keep prying eyes away from whatever went on inside. The roof was flat, edged by stone railings that wrapped around the entire structure, and the entrance, marked by a heavy wooden door reinforced with metal bars, stood at the center of it all. It was imposing but functional, clearly meant for official use rather than luxury.


    "We''ll drop you here," said the guard riding beside me. "Go straight in and explain yourself as a beginner. They''ll register your biometrics and give you a temporary refugee pass for now," he explained in a straightforward tone.


    I climbed down from the horse, glancing one last time at the guards who remained still, waiting. They watched as I approached the building, their gaze lingering until I stepped inside. Then, without a word, they turned and rode away, leaving me alone to face whatever was next.


    The door was heavier than I expected, and as I pushed it open, a loud creaking sound echoed through the room. Inside, a young woman, probably in her twenties, looked up and smiled apologetically.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Sorry about the door. We''re planning to renovate the building soon," she said, noticing my reaction.


    "Oh no, sorry. I didn''t mean to make a face," I quickly replied.


    "It''s completely understandable," she reassured me. "So, how may I help you today?"


    "I''m a beginner who came here to seek refuge," I explained.


    Her eyebrows raised slightly. "Oh my, it''s been what, 13 days since we had a new beginner?" She smiled again, quickly moving on. "Alright, please come over here. I''ll need your name and age, and then I''ll collect your biometrics."


    "Name..." I hesitated for a moment. I didn''t want to use my real name in this world, not when I wanted to leave my past behind. But upon a careful consideration, it might be beneficial for me if I come across someone from my past or someone front the same world as mine "Ryan," I finally said. "Age 17."


    She noted it down, then gestured toward a table where a soft clay-like pad was placed. "I''ll need your handprint," she explained. I pressed my palm into the material, leaving an imprint behind. Next, she pricked my finger with a small needle, collecting a drop of blood on a small parchment square.


    "That''s it," she said after sealing the blood sample away. "Now, one last thing. Do you plan on staying here or moving on to the next level?"


    "I''ll have to decide on that," I replied, though I already knew my goal was to move on as soon as I obtained my rune.


    "Have you gotten your rune yet?" she asked.


    "No."


    "Well if that''s the case then u might be looking for a place to seek your rune, right? There''s a school here," she said, smiling. "It helps both beginners and the people of this world find their rune." Incidentally not only can the players own their rune but so can the beings of this world.


    That caught my attention. "How long would it take for me to find my rune if I joined the school?"


    She tilted her head, thinking. "I''m not immortal like you, so I can''t say for sure. But from what I''ve seen, I''ve only witnessed one or two beings get their rune. Based on the data we have, it could take up to 2,000 years."


    My jaw nearly hit the floor. "Two thousand years?"


    I would''ve considered it if it took a couple of years at most, but 2,000 years? That¡¯s way too long. I decided to let it slide. "Is there any other method for me to get my rune?" I asked, hoping for an easier path.


    "You¡¯ll have to find the rune yourself," she said. "Experts can only teach you and advise you on how to obtain it. You could also try buying a rune, but it¡¯s a matter of luck whether the rune chooses to obey you."


    Huhhhhhhhh... I screamed internally. I had assumed a few days of meditation or some basic training would do the trick, but this? This was way more complicated than I expected.


    "How can I buy runes?" I asked, clinging to any hope of simplifying the process.


    "If you have a rune, you can access the in-game shop and the auction house," she explained. "But since you don¡¯t, I guess your only options are joining the school or asking around the town."


    I sighed, feeling the weight of the task growing heavier. "Is there anyone around here who owns a rune? I¡¯d like to ask them about it."


    "Umm..." She hesitated, thinking it over. "I¡¯m not sure if you''d be able to meet any rune holders. They¡¯re not really allowed to leave their designated space to avoid conflict."


    She paused, as if something had just occurred to her. "There is an old man in town who used to have a rune... He lost it and now he whines about it. People consider him mad, but you might try asking him."


    A small glimmer of hope returned. Even if he was mad, maybe he could give me some insight.


    "Thank you for your help," I said, turning to leave. Just as I reached the door, the woman''s voice called out behind me.


    "Wait! You''re forgetting your refugee ID card."


    I paused and turned back, realizing the oversight. "Right¡­ thanks," I replied, taking the card from her hand.


    "Take care," she said with a polite smile.


    "Likewise," I nodded before stepping outside, the door creaking shut behind me. The card felt foreign in my hand, a symbol of my new status in this world¡ªtemporary, unrooted.


    Now, my next task was clear. Time to find that old man, I thought, steeling myself for what might be a long and uncertain search.


    I was surprised at how smoothly I had managed to interact with her. I wasn''t exactly the social type, yet here I was, handling the conversation like it was nothing. Maybe it was because I still saw them as NPCs, not real people. That thought lingered. If that''s the case, is it a good thing or a bad one? I wasn''t sure.


    Stepping outside, I took a deep breath and began asking the locals for directions. My appearance probably gave me away¡ªI looked a little different, fresher, maybe even na?ve in their eyes. The cloak I had been given after registration was simple and clean, a stark contrast to the more worn and rugged clothes the villagers wore. I was taller than most of them, my dark hair slightly unkempt, and my posture carried a sense of purpose that marked me as an outsider.


    A few people were curious when I mentioned being a beginner, casting me sideways glances or asking how long I''d been here. Some were polite, offering vague advice, but it became clear that most were just used to seeing people like me come and go. I learned to read their eyes¡ªmild interest, nothing more.


    Eventually, I ran into a group of players, clearly more seasoned than I was. They stood out with their sharper eyes, confident stances, and the way they carried themselves, almost like they owned the place. I struck up a conversation with one of them, a guy who had been here for what he claimed was nearly two centuries.


    "You''re a beginner, huh?" he said, grinning. "Don''t worry, it gets easier. Most of us just find ways to enjoy ourselves."


    "How so?" I asked, curious but wary.


    He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Well, as long as you don''t have a kid, you''re good. You don''t lose immortality unless a child is born, so plenty of us just... enjoy life. Bang girls, live for the moment. It''s not a bad way to pass time."


    I kept my face neutral, but inside I couldn''t help but feel a mix of disgust and disbelief. Is that really all they strive for after years of being here? It was a sobering reminder that this place, this game, twisted people in more ways than one.


    But I wasn''t here for that. I had something else to find.

 What It Means To Be Worthy

    The sun was on the horizon, casting a dull orange glow across the land. I had been searching for clues about the old man, but all my efforts came up empty. Most people said he had already died, long forgotten.


    The kingdom itself was divided into three distinct parts. The first part was the village, where the common people of this world and players who had yet to find their rune resided. It was a simple place, filled with struggle and survival, devoid of mana. On the opposite side, separated from the village, was the region of the immortal nobles¡ªthose who had obtained their rune, both the players and the natives of this world. At the center of it all lay the school, a sprawling complex bordered by a river that divided the kingdom into its three parts. The school was vast, with nearly 15,000 people studying there. This river touched every region and had a common point: a large rocky terrain atop which the magnificent palace rested, towering over the kingdom like an omnipresent force.


    The kingdom was indeed vast, but what surprised me most was the technology. Though I had been told that no technological advancements were allowed, the devices I encountered operated on mana. The village lacked these devices due to the absence of rune-bearers, but in the nobles'' region and the school, mana flowed abundantly, powering everything. The answer was simple¡ªthe king had control over these mana-fueled devices, and the kingdom''s law prohibited only advancements that he could not control. With the power of the first rune, which the current king, Martin II, possessed, he could easily subdue any revolt. His rune, known as Riptide, was a force to be reckoned with. The First King had won the Great War with it, a victory that cemented his rule.


    __________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    The battlefield had been brutal, filled with blood and bodies. There were no tanks, no rifles¡ªjust crude weapons. Few had swords, and the enemy''s primitive fiery catapults seemed like an advantage. The battle was filled with flames, despite the absence of modern weapons. The army of the great palace was losing, pushed to the edge. As defeat loomed, their leader gathered the remaining men for one last stand, leaving the women and children behind. But the battle ended in tragedy. The enemy stormed the gates, severing the leader''s head and tossing it at the palace doors.


    The victors reveled in their conquest, taunting the terrified women who cowered in despair. The once-glorious palace, built on hopes of peace, was now in the hands of their enemies. They approached the women with disgusting grins, making cruel promises of what they intended to do. The women wept, consumed by fear and hopelessness. But among them stood a boy, just 9 years old. The women didn''t even notice him at first, too lost in their own terror. Some pitied him, knowing he would soon share their fate. The fate of six adults and three girls lay in the hands of this child.


    He held a wooden sword¡ªone he had crafted himself during the palace''s construction. Without hesitation, he charged at the enemies. They laughed, amused by the boy''s bravery. One man kicked him in the face, sending him flying, while another struck him in the back of his head with the boy''s own sword. Rain poured from the heavens, thunder rumbling overhead as the boy collapsed outside the palace gates. His body lay motionless, his face bruised and bloodied, a delicate silk chain around his neck, from which hung a silver pendant. The enemies, unimpressed by his defiance, decided to give him a slow, agonizing death.


    They dragged him outside, forcing him into the mud and slashing his neck. As his life ebbed away, they shoved his face into a puddle, watching as the water turned red with his blood. It was a gruesome, cruel scene. They believed the battle was over.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    But the war was far from finished.


    The rain slowed, and the puddle where the boy''s body lay began to bubble. A strange stillness filled the air as if nature itself was holding its breath. The blood in the water started to retreat, flowing back into the boy''s lifeless form. A tingle spread through the hearts of those watching, their bodies frozen in place. Before their eyes, the boy slowly rose into the air, limp, as if some invisible force lifted him. His hands, head, and legs hung loosely, but there, glowing brightly in the rain, was a shimmering stone embedded in the silver pendant.


    It was the first Rune Stone to descend into this world¡ªRiptide.


    With newfound power coursing through him, the boy opened his eyes, his once-bloodied face now healed. The rain gathered around him, swirling and twisting as he commanded the water with nothing but his will. The enemies stood frozen in terror, unable to move as the boy controlled the storm. The rain lashed out, turning into deadly spears of water that pierced through their bodies. One by one, the men who had mocked him fell, blood mingling with the rain, leaving only the leader alive.


    He could only watch as the boy¡ªtheir supposed victim¡ªnow stood as their executioner.


    The pressure was unbearable. The leader, once full of arrogance and cruelty, fell to his knees, his sword clattering from his trembling hands. His body shook, not just from the cold rain but from the sheer terror that gripped him. The boy remained in the air, still, as if untouched by the chaos he had just unleashed. His eyes, dark and devoid of any mercy, fixed upon the last man standing. There was no surprise in those eyes, no remorse. Only the cold certainty of power¡ªthe kind of power that made a grown man beg for his life before a mere child.


    He pleaded, his voice cracked and pitiful, words stumbling over each other as he sought mercy from a boy. Not from the adults he had tormented, not from warriors or kings¡ªbut from a 8-year-old. Such was the power of the Rune.


    The boy raised his left hand slowly, and the raindrops that had been falling so heavily came to a halt. They gathered around his wrist, swirling and twisting, shimmering with the energy of the Rune. Without a word, without hesitation, he flicked his hand in a swift motion. A sharp, slicing arc of water shot forward, cutting clean through the man''s neck. His head tumbled to the ground, his body falling lifelessly beside it, the rain mingling with the blood-soaked earth.


    The boy floated back to the ground, his feet touching the mud without a sound. There was no celebration, no sign of triumph. Only silence. He had saved no one but himself.


    That boy, now forever changed, went on to become the first king, crowned in a blood-soaked world. His name was Aurelius¡ªthe name that would be whispered for centuries. The Rune, powerful beyond comprehension, passed down through his bloodline, and his blood alone made them worthy.


    So began his legacy, Aurelius, the Rune''d King.


    __________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    The messenger seemed to take a strange pleasure in telling the story. I hadn''t felt a chill like that in a long time. Aurelius, huh? That man¡ªno, that boy¡ªsure had an aura about him. The thought lingered in my mind longer than I expected. I had always assumed King Martin II was a man of this world, a mortal. But the first king too? That means the entire royal family... they''re all mortals.


    It felt unsettling. All this time, I had believed there was something more, something beyond the mortality that tied them to this world. If a 8-year-old boy could become king, wielding unimaginable power, what did that mean for me? What would I need to do to become worthy of my own rune?


    My mind wandered back to the one clue I had¡ªfinding the old man. People in this village had either forgotten him or believed him to be dead, but I was sure he was still out there, unnoticed by the kingdom. I clenched my fists, feeling the weight of uncertainty. What was I supposed to do with nothing but whispers and rumors?


    Then a thought struck me. If this kingdom was filled with mortals, then there must be a place for them to bury their dead. A graveyard. If people thought the old man was dead, that''s where they would have put him¡ªor at least a marker for his supposed death. I exhaled, my breath visible in the cool air as I pieced it together. If he wasn''t dead, that''s where I would start.


    The graveyard.

 A Blessing From The Heavens

    Finding the graveyard wasn''t difficult; it lay on the opposite side of the kingdom, surrounded by rugged, rocky terrain. The vast expanse stretched before me, littered with countless burials. The entrance, though not grand, was framed by two ancient yew trees, their twisted branches intertwining above to form a natural arch. The place wasn''t particularly eerie¡ªjust silent, and notably unguarded.


    The old man''s name was Vincent. He was a player, and like all players, his death would only come in two ways: either by choosing to become mortal or having his rune shattered by another rune holder. I began my search for his grave as the sun dipped lower in the sky. By the time night fell, I had only scoured half of the grounds and hadn''t thought much about where I''d spend the night.


    I remembered the refugee card I''d been given¡ªtwo nights of stay in any hotel and up to five meals. That was all the luxury I had left. My stomach rumbled, reminding me of the couple of drinks I''d accepted from the villagers, which was far from satisfying. I estimated about ten percent of the graveyard remained unchecked. I''d finish the search tomorrow, I thought, and began making my way toward the exit.


    "Leaving already?" a voice suddenly asked, breaking the stillness.


    I froze, heart thudding. My eyes darted around, scanning the shadows, but there was no one. Wait... this is a fantasy world, I thought. Could ghosts or spirits exist here?


    "No," replied the messenger, calmly dispelling the notion.


    Then who could it be? I asked aloud, "Who are you?"


    "Hmm... my name is Vincent, but people call me the madman."


    Vincent? I felt a cold sensation wash over me. "Where are you?" I asked, unease creeping in.


    "Well... you passed me about two hours ago."


    Two hours ago? I thought back. That was when I had first entered the graveyard. My pulse quickened as I reached the entrance, eyes wide, scanning the archway. And there he was.


    Sitting casually atop the arch, one leg dangling, was an old man. His long white beard hung down, swaying in the breeze, and his dark, ragged clothes clung to his thin frame. Had he been there the entire time?


    "So, what were you searching for?" he asked casually, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.


    I didn''t respond immediately, choosing instead to scan him carefully. There was no visible rune on him, which only deepened my confusion. "I was searching for you," I finally admitted. "I''m a beginner... and I thought maybe I could learn something about getting my rune from you."


    The old man didn''t seem particularly interested, his eyes drifting as though the conversation barely held his attention. I began to doubt I had any chance of impressing him, but before I could say more, he surprised me.


    "Sure," he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. "After watching you frantically searching for my grave, I suppose I can lend you some help."


    I was stunned¡ªand relieved. My two hours of searching hadn''t been in vain after all. Still, I couldn''t help feeling a bit annoyed at the thought of him just watching me the whole time, letting me wander aimlessly.


    "Where''s your rune? Can I see it?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.


    He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he assessed me. I stood still, not daring to move. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his thumb and pointed behind him. I followed his gesture, my gaze falling on the imposing structure of the palace in the distance.


    My eyes widened. "I... I don''t follow," I stammered, unsure of what he meant.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "The king has it," he replied, his voice calm and steady.


    What?! I shouted in my mind.


    "What do you know about the runes, boy?" Vincent asked, his voice sharp and curious.


    "Not much," I admitted. "Just that it grants you power and a way into the game."


    "So, you want to play the game, huh?" he asked, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.


    "Yes, but for that, I need to find a rune first," I said, eager to push the conversation forward.


    "You don''t find the rune, child. The rune comes to you, only when it deems you worthy. It watches you, follows you, from the moment you fall into this world, but it will only reveal itself once you''ve proven yourself." He stood up slowly, balanced on the arch. His voice took on a distant tone, as if he was recalling something deep in his memory. "This is where my rune appeared to me... back when this land was covered in flowers and grasses. It asked me, ''Do you like flowers? Do you like shrubs, even if they are poisonous? Do you cherish trees, even when they are withered and dry?'' I didn''t dare answer, but then it spoke again. ''You want me? Then protect this land, even if it costs you your life, and I will offer myself to you.''"


    I was confused, unsure if I believed him. Runes could speak? Was he lying? Or was he really mad, as people had described him?


    "Why did the king take your rune?" I asked, cutting through my doubts.


    Vincent''s gaze drifted over the graveyard. "Look around," he said, gesturing with a sweep of his hand. "This land, once filled with flowers, is now littered with the rotting dead." He stared up at the sky, as if reliving a distant memory. "The king approached me that day. He wanted to turn this place into a graveyard, a resting ground for his expanding kingdom. That''s when I understood why my rune had asked me to guard this land."


    His expression darkened. "The king at that time was arrogant, a man who wanted absolute control over his realm. I refused to let him desecrate this place, and he wasn''t pleased."


    Vincent''s voice grew cold as he continued. "He sent his soldiers after me. They surrounded me, weapons drawn, and I fought back with everything I had. The air was thick with the clash of steel, and I felt every blow."


    He paused, remembering the struggle. "As I lay on the grass, blood pooling around me, something stirred. Vines began to grow. They crept up from the ground, wrapping around my wounds, pulling them closed. I healed right there in the middle of the battlefield. The vines coiled around my neck, and there it was¡ªmy rune, glowing like a brilliant emerald. It dangled there, shining in the light. The Thornveil had chosen me."


    His lips curled into a small smile, as if savoring the memory. But it quickly faded.


    "The king wasn''t impressed by my resistance. He had a rune of his own, the Riptide. We fought¡ªThornveil against Riptide. The land trembled beneath us. My vines twisted and surged, trying to strangle the power of the king''s waves, but the Riptide was too strong. His waters crushed my defenses, flooded the battlefield, and drowned my power."


    Vincent''s smile disappeared entirely. "The king won. And though he was impressed by the strength of my rune, he still took it for himself. But the Thornveil... it wouldn''t listen to him. He tried giving it to his generals, his family, anyone he trusted. But the rune refused them all."


    He looked back at me, his eyes heavy with the weight of his memories. "As punishment, he left me here. Guarding this graveyard he built on the land I once cherished. A prisoner in the place I once vowed to protect."


    "I had thought the kings were good guys," I said, frowning. "I mean, the rune obeys him, and the first king was a good man too."


    Vincent let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Child, you know nothing. The runes don''t decide if someone is good or evil. They don''t care about morality the way we do."


    He paused, his gaze distant as if seeing something far away. "On the day Aurelius fought the enemies, his rune probably asked him to protect the remaining women. It might have whispered in the ears of that tiny boy, just eight years old. And when he fulfilled it¡ªwhen he saved them all¡ªthe rune revealed itself to him." Vincent paused for a breath, as though the weight of what he was saying needed time to settle.


    "But a rune could just as easily ask a man to kill a thousand people, and if he does it, the rune will obey him. If he refuses, the rune cleanses itself and offers another challenge¡ªsave a thousand lives, and once he does that, the rune would obey him instead."


    His eyes locked onto mine, his expression severe. "There is no such thing as a good or bad rune, boy. There''s only a good man and a devil."


    I nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. So it wasn''t about the rune at all. It was about the choices people made... "I think I understand now," I said, though the revelation still felt heavy in my mind.


    The night had cooled, the air filled with the soft murmur of the passing river nearby. Vincent''s voice softened, but the gravity remained. "The rune isn''t just some tool you use to get a ticket into the game. It''s not a weapon for your own selfish agendas. It''s a duty, a blessing from the heavens. It watches, waits, and chooses¡ªbut it''s the man''s heart that decides what that power becomes."


    His words hung in the air like a quiet truth, as vast and endless as the graveyard around us.

 The Mark Of Zephyris

    I gazed at the moon for quite some time. It should be about 9 o''clock by now. Should I wait until my rune speaks to me, or maybe do something useful, like helping the villagers? I wondered.


    "So, you can''t use your powers without having a rune?" I asked the old man, who had been sitting silently nearby.


    He laughed, a deep, almost weary sound. "The power and strength are already within me, boy. The rune just amplifies it, multiplies it many times over." With a swift motion, he leapt down from the rock he''d been perched on, landing softly despite his age. Dragging his feet through the graveyard''s soil, I watched as small sprouts of life emerged from the earth.


    With a mere touch to the dead branches hanging above us, leaves began to sprout. Then, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he pulled a vine from the palm of his hand. It twisted and curled as if it had a life of its own.


    I couldn''t hide my amazement. Seeing this in person for the first time made my pulse quicken with excitement.


    "But," he continued, his voice dropping a little, "this is all just parlor tricks." The vine extended further, producing a small fruit in his hand. "With skills like these, I couldn''t stand a chance in real combat. A rune is needed for that."


    "Why don''t you just ask the king to return your rune?" I questioned.


    He chuckled again, though this time with a darker edge. "Oh, I don''t need to ask. I can summon my rune anytime. All I need to do is call for it, and it''ll appear."


    I blinked, surprised. "Wait, then why haven''t you? And, how do u know all this despite having your rune for just a small period of time?"


    "Once you get your rune," he explained, his eyes fixed on the graveyard, "you also get an instant understanding of how to wield it, a sort of manual for every attack, every trick you could ever perform."


    It started to make sense now, the weight of the rune, the power it granted. But still, something felt off.


    "Then why don''t you summon it?" I asked again.


    He slowly walked to a nearby grave, his hand gently resting on the weathered stone. "Do you think it would be happy, being summoned here?" His voice softened, filled with a kind of sorrow I hadn''t expected.


    He looked up at me, his eyes hollow. "I failed, boy. I failed the only task I was given. Even with my rune, I couldn''t protect this once-beautiful land."


    He was right, I thought. And now, I couldn''t help but feel a growing sense of hatred toward the king. Ugh, what should I do about the rune now?


    "Go home, child. It''s getting dark," the old man said, his voice gentler this time. "The beasts may show up if they sense two players in one place."


    "But what about you? I can''t just leave you here," I replied, unease creeping into my tone.


    He chuckled again, softer, more resigned. "I''ve been here for 400 years, boy. Another night won''t make a difference. Now go on."


    I didn''t want to leave him alone in this forsaken land, but I had no choice. Hunger gnawed at me, reminding me of my own needs. "Well then," I said reluctantly, "I''ll come see you tomorrow."


    Without waiting for his response, I turned and left the graveyard, the oppressive silence of the place weighing on my mind as I walked away.


    The village was still lit, a warm glow spilling out from the homes and shops, cutting through the deepening night. The stores were still open, bustling with people wrapping up their day. I wandered into one of the small stores and bought some flatbread and roasted root vegetables, the kind they often sold in these simple villages. Alongside it, I picked up a portion of dried meat and a small jar of honeyed fruits, staples that kept the villagers going through long, hard days.


    I had already used two of the meals provided by my refugee card. I wasn''t entirely sure how it worked, but at least it ensured I had food for now. As I wandered through the streets, looking for a place to stay the night, one hotel caught my eye. It wasn''t the biggest or the brightest, but it had a certain charm¡ªthe building looked old yet well-maintained, with ivy crawling up its stone walls. A small wooden sign hung above the door, swaying gently in the night breeze. What really drew me in, though, was the inviting smell of fresh bread wafting from the kitchen. It gave the place a homey feel, something that seemed rare around here.


    I stepped inside and found an old woman at the register, her hair tied back in a simple knot. She looked up as I approached.


    "Oh, young man, are you looking for a place to stay?" she asked, her voice kind but businesslike.


    "Yes, I''d like to stay for the night," I replied.


    "That would be 25 coppers," she said.


    I handed her my card, and she examined it closely, her eyes scanning the details. "Hmm, a beginner, eh? Well, it seems you still have your two free nights."Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    She gestured for me to follow her, and we walked down a narrow hallway lit by dim lanterns. She opened a door to a small, simple room. "The restroom and bath are on the ground floor. You''ve got a single bed here and a furnace to heat the room."


    "Thank you," I replied, grateful for the warmth and quiet.


    She gave me a nod and left, closing the door softly behind her.


    I examined the room¡ªfour walls, one window, a wooden door, a single bed, and a furnace sitting in the corner. Basic but enough for the night. My gaze lingered on the furnace for a moment.


    "How does the furnace run here?" I asked the messenger, half-expecting silence but getting an answer.


    "It operates on a spell from a fire stone," the voice responded calmly.


    "So, there are a few devices here using mana," I muttered to myself, intrigued by how magic and mundane life intertwined. I stretched my tired limbs. "Guess I''ll take a bath before turning in."


    I grabbed my worn clothes and stepped out of the room, heading downstairs. The hallway was dim, with just a faint orange glow from the lanterns flickering along the stone walls. I followed the signs pointing toward the bathhouse, the soft murmur of water guiding me as I reached the ground floor.


    The bath was tucked away in a small, cozy space, made of smooth stone. There were separate pools of water¡ªone steaming hot and the other cool. The stonework was well-polished, and the scent of herbs hung in the air, making the atmosphere almost serene. A faint mist floated just above the water''s surface, glowing in the light of several mana crystals embedded in the walls.


    I spotted a small washing basin in the corner, along with a metal frame next to it¡ªclearly for drying clothes. The frame had intricate carvings that resembled the furnace upstairs, and it hummed faintly with warmth, powered by the same fire stone magic.


    I quickly began washing my clothes in the basin, scrubbing them thoroughly. The water in the basin turned murky as dirt and grime from my travels washed away. Once done, I placed my damp clothes over the metal frame. Within moments, heat began to radiate from the device, and I watched as the moisture evaporated, leaving my clothes drying faster than I had expected.


    With my clothes taken care of, I turned to the bath. The hot water was welcoming as I slipped into the pool, the warmth sinking into my tired muscles. I let out a deep breath, the weight of the day momentarily melting away. The steam curled around me as I leaned back, letting the heat wash over my body. The herbs in the water eased the tension in my shoulders, and for the first time in a while, I felt like I could truly relax.


    After what felt like both an eternity and just a few moments, I climbed out of the bath and dried off. My clothes were still a little warm but perfectly dry now, thanks to the mana-powered frame. I dressed quickly, feeling refreshed, and made my way back up to my room.


    The bed wasn''t luxurious, but at that moment, it looked more inviting than anything. I laid down, the soft crackling of the furnace in the corner lulling me into a peaceful sleep.


    I don''t usually dream, but this time was different. This was my first real sleep in this world, aside from the nap I had taken when the messenger needed to update me.


    I stood in utter darkness. It was strange¡ªI could move, I could feel the cold emptiness pressing in around me, but I wasn''t scared. I had already braced myself for something unsettling. A nightmare, maybe. But I wasn''t particularly terrified. With a straight face, I wandered through the darkness, silent, not bothering to call out to anyone.


    Suddenly, a voice broke through the void, muffled and distant, yet clear enough to cut through the silence.


    "Do you feel good, Owen? Are you satisfied after finding a good life? A life of your choice?" the voice taunted, dripping with malice. "You left us. You left your parents. You abandoned your friends. You want to pass on alone? Walking on the bodies of the dead? You are here because of us, Owen. You dare leave us in hell?"


    The voice seemed to echo around me, as though it came from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was a twisted, mocking tone, as if it was trying to burrow under my skin. But I knew better. It sounded like my parents, but I could tell it was a lie, a trick trying to provoke me.


    I shrugged it off. "Think whatever you want. Mimicking my parents? Trying to make me feel something? Hatred? Confusion? Doubt?" I smirked in the darkness, defiant. "Should I feel bad for leaving my old life behind?"


    The taunting words meant nothing to me. If anything, I felt liberated. "If anything, I feel good being here," I said aloud, knowing full well that the voice could hear me. "Let my old life rot in hell. I''ll enjoy the life I live here and become the first to clear this game. And I''m not a Rowe anymore my name here is... Eldric Zephyris."


    For a moment, the voice fell silent, as if stunned by my words. Then, another voice spoke¡ªthis time, a soft, melodic female voice.


    "You are hard," she said, her tone calm but curious. "Your life is clouded. I cannot see how far you will go in this world, but I do know you are special."


    The space around me began to shift. The once oppressive darkness melted away, replaced by a brilliant light that grew brighter with each passing moment.


    "Well then," she continued, her voice soothing, "I''ll assist you on your journey."


    The light flared, blinding me momentarily, and when I opened my eyes, I was back in my bed. A strange weight pressed down on my chest, as if the dream had left something behind. I inhaled sharply, blinking away the remnants of that surreal world, my mind still spinning with the memory of the voices.


    I sat up in the hard bed that, just hours before, had felt comfortable enough. The night had passed in the blink of an eye. I closed my eyes briefly and flexed my arms, feeling the tension ease from my muscles. With a deep breath, I stood up from the bed.


    Clank.


    Something hit the floor. My eyes darted down, and there it was¡ªa pale yellow stone, darkened at the edges, lying on the ground. I recognized it instantly. My heart raced, and for a moment, I didn''t know how to react. Then, almost instinctively, I made a triumphant gesture¡ª"Yessss!" I whispered under my breath.


    Overcome with excitement, I dropped to the floor as if showing respect to some unseen presence, my hands trembling slightly as I picked up the stone. It was smooth, almost oval in shape, and fit perfectly in my palm. As I turned it over, I noticed the symbol etched into its surface.


    It wasn''t like the rigid, sharp lightning bolts I''d seen in illustrations. This one was different¡ªmore fluid, more alive. The lines curved gracefully, winding through the stone like a coiled serpent ready to strike. Each bend in the symbol seemed deliberate, as if it captured the unpredictable, chaotic nature of lightning itself. The curves flowed outward, almost touching the edges of the stone, which was nearly circular in shape but still bore slight imperfections. The energy emanating from it felt raw, yet controlled, as though it had been waiting for this moment.


    I held it in my hands, mesmerized.


    "Congratulations on obtaining your rune."

 Preparation And Pretense

    A knock broke the stillness outside the door. "Are you awake yet? The card doesn''t pay for the day," came the old woman''s voice, sounding slightly impatient.


    What time is it? I asked in my head.


    "It''s 12:34," the messenger''s voice drifted in from somewhere nearby.


    Damn, I overslept. That wasn''t supposed to happen. The Rune didn''t even appear with a vessel, unlike what the stories promised. A part of me hoped it wasn''t a bad omen, but I set that thought aside.


    I shrugged into the freshly cleaned cloak, its coarse fabric brushing against my skin, and grabbed whatever food remained. I thanked the old woman briefly before stepping out. I knew exactly where I needed to go.


    Without hesitation, I made my way to the graveyard. I had something to show the old man.


    The sun was directly overhead, casting sharp shadows on the bustling streets. People moved about, lively as always, while I walked for a good thirty minutes before reaching my destination. A burial was underway when I arrived, but I wasn''t interested in the ceremony. I waited patiently for it to end, keeping my distance.


    When the crowd finally dispersed, I called out, "Hey, old man."


    "Don''t shout, I''m right behind you," came the reply, startling me slightly. I let out a small breath of relief. "For a moment, I thought it might''ve been you being buried."


    "Me? Shut up. The last thing I want is to be buried in this land I failed to protect," he grumbled. "So, are you here with more questions?"


    I couldn''t help but grin.


    "What? Why are you smiling?" His expression twisted into one of disgust, but that soon shifted to surprise and then... anticipation. "Don''t tell me¡ª"


    I pulled the rune from my pocket. The dull stone barely glimmered, looking far less impressive than I''d hoped. The old man''s face fell, his anticipation replaced by a sense of betrayal. He snatched the stone from my hand, examining it closely.


    "Don''t tell me you just picked this up off the ground yesterday and convinced yourself it''s your Rune?"


    "What? No! Of course not!" I shot back. "It appeared after I woke up this morning."


    He held it between his fingers, squinting as he examined it closer. "There is a lightning mark here, but other than that, this doesn''t look like a Rune to me."


    What? How could that be?


    He handed the stone back to me. "Was there a message when you received it?"


    "Oh, yeah. The messenger said, ''Congrats on getting your Rune.''"


    The old man furrowed his brow in thought. "It said ''Rune''?"


    "Yes."


    "You''re sure? Not some other name?"


    "No, just ''Rune.''"


    "See, boy, when you get a Rune, the messenger states its name. Did you at least get an update on its abilities? Attacks, buffs, something?"


    I shook my head. "Nothing."


    He seemed to be searching his memories, and then suddenly, his eyes lit up with realization.


    "This isn''t an ordinary Rune, boy. What you have in your hands is a dormant Rune."


    I understood what he meant. "This rune isn''t actually a ''Rune'' yet, just a stone waiting to awaken. Dormant runes are rare. Very rare. From what I remember from the updates, they can sell for thousands of gold¡ªbecause no one knows just how powerful the rune will be once it''s awakened."Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    My disappointment quickly shifted to excitement, my mind racing with possibilities.


    "Ugh, don''t drool over it," the old man muttered, watching me with narrowed eyes. "This rune could turn into something as powerful as Riptide... or it might just become a worthless piece of junk."


    His warning didn''t faze me. I already knew that before he said it. I could end up the strongest or the weakest, but that would depend entirely on me.


    "When does it awaken?" I asked, hoping for some hint of a timeline.


    He shrugged. "Who knows? There''s no information on that."


    I decided to ask the messenger directly, silently questioning whether I was eligible to proceed to the next level.


    "No," the messenger''s voice answered in my thoughts, "for that, you''ll need to complete these tasks."


    A list of tasks immediately appeared in my mind.


    1. Obtain the Rune ¨C Completed


    2. Cover a distance of 20 miles ¨C Completed


    3. Live 3 days in Level 0 ¨C Pending


    4. Kill a beast from the game ¨C Pending


    5. Perform an attack using the Rune ¨C Pending


    The first task had been completed today. The second, likely when I made my way to the kingdom. The third¡ªI''d probably check that one off before the day ended.


    But killing a beast from the game? That could be easy... though I wasn''t sure what counted as a beast.


    "Well, I''ll deal with that later," I muttered to myself, pushing the thought aside. What truly caught my attention was the last task. Perform an attack using the Rune?


    I stared down at the dull stone, still pondering the task when I felt eyes on me. The old man was watching me, his expression flat, unimpressed by my moment of deep thought.


    "Hey, old man, can I even perform any attacks with a dormant rune?" I asked, frustration creeping into my voice.


    "How should I know? You didn''t even get the update on its abilities," he replied, unbothered.


    "Then how do you perform your tricks? You don''t even have your rune anymore, yet you still manage to pull off magic."


    He shrugged. "I just do it, like blinking. It''s natural."


    I stared at the rune in my hand, the dull stone sitting heavy in my palm. If this is a lightning rune, surely I should be able to muster at least a spark. With that thought, I closed my eyes and focused on the power supposedly locked inside.


    I made a gesture with my right hand, trying to channel something¡ªanything. I clenched my gut, pushing myself hard, willing the rune to react.


    Poof. Nothing.


    I hit the ground, the rune still cold and unmoved in my hand.


    "Damn it," I muttered. "How am I supposed to perform an attack when the rune isn''t even awakened?"


    The old man watched me from the corner of his eye, clearly amused.


    "Hey, boy," the old man called out, his tone skeptical. "Did you hear anything from the rune? Any voices?"


    "Nope," I replied, feeling a bit defensive.


    "Since you got the rune today, did you at least hear anything last night? Maybe in a dream, before you fell asleep?"


    "Not really. The hotel was empty, except for the old lady. I don''t think she''s the voice of my rune," I said, half-jokingly.


    "So, the rune appeared without a whisper? It might be that to awaken it, you need it to speak," he suggested.


    "That sounds like you''re just making things up," I retorted, not fully convinced.


    "Well, can you at least help me slay some beasts from the game?" I asked, shifting the topic.


    "Tasks, huh? I''ve completed all mine. I was bored after four centuries of this," he said, with a hint of amusement. "And let me give you the piece of advice for the bag of food you''ve got lying there."


    "Oh? You can have it. I''m not hungry anyway. What''s your advice?" I asked, curious.


    "The easiest thing you can kill is the Horned Tiger during night," he said with a smile.


    I nodded. Horned tigers, as they were called, were just tigers with horns but significantly smaller than the tigers from my world. The reason he suggested killing it at night was its very poor eyesight¡ªit was nearly blind in the dark. Its smaller size made it easier to battle. As this night marked the completion of my third task, I might very well be facing a tiger the size of a dog.


    I scoffed. Was I serious? I had never been in a fight, let alone killed a tiger, even one as small as a dog. I had a large terrier back home with whom I''d played rough, mauling and pushing him around, but this was different. I felt a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. Vincent, noticing my unease, said, "Well, if you''re that scared of fighting beasts, I can help you."


    "But aren''t you confined to this place?" I asked.


    "No," he replied. "I can go wherever I want, but the only place I can return to is this graveyard."


    "Then why don''t you go into the village and have some fun? Why do you always stay here, as if you''re locked up?" I asked.


    The old man''s face grew serious. "Boy, the king ordered that this would be my home, and I was to act as a guard. But confining myself here is a punishment I imposed upon myself."


    I felt kind of bad for him.


    The time was nearly 3 p.m., and we still had quite a while before nightfall.


    Well then, I might as well start preparing.


    I turned to Vincent. "I still have three meals left. What do you think?"


    The old man smiled.


    "Well then, let''s go shopping¡ªwith no money."


    We left the graveyard, with the old man slowly walking behind me, not even trying to keep up. I handed him the cloak to at least help mask his presence.


    The yet-to-awaken rune rested in my pocket.

 The Hunt

    First, we headed to the market to gather some food for the old man. I had no idea how many centuries he''d been living off those fruits he plucked from under his arms. A proper meal might do him some good, I thought.


    We stopped at a stall that sold roasted fowl, rich with spices and basted in a sauce so thick it glistened like lacquer. The seller wrapped up two birds, their skin crispy and seasoned with salt and herbs, stuffing their bellies with wild onions and grains. Next, we bought a small clay pot filled with some kind of root stew. It smelled of earthy mushrooms and spiced root vegetables that looked like they''d been stewing for hours.


    "So, how do we prepare?" I asked as we loaded our purchases.


    "Since I don''t have my rune, I can''t fight. All I can do is set traps for you. My vines might help, and I can even build a proper arena for the showdown," the old man replied casually.


    I had my doubts about those vines of his. Could they really hold a horned tiger? As small as the tigers were, they were unbelievably strong and agile. And their smell? Average at best. Our only real shot was that their eyesight was almost useless.


    As we strolled past the roadside stalls, a foul stench hit me like a punch in the gut. I saw a bald guy carrying a sag, clearly full of something.


    "Follow him," the old man said, his eyes narrowing.


    I did. We trailed the man through a narrow alleyway until we reached an open space where a mountain of trash and filth was piled high. The bald man threw his sag onto the heap, turned, and walked off without a word. The old man gave me a look that needed no words either. I sighed and went to the sag.


    The smell was unbearable, like something had been rotting for weeks. When I finally managed to open the sag, I hesitated. Whatever was inside, I wasn''t sure I wanted to see it. I glanced back at the old man and my frustration peaked when I saw him draping garlands of flowers around his neck like some sort of festival king.


    "What the heck are you doing?" I snapped.


    Without a word, he tossed two garlands over to me. I glared at him, but he just smiled like he was completely oblivious. Reluctantly, I slung the garlands around my head to block out the stench.


    I grabbed the sag and gave it a hard shake. Something heavy thudded wetly to the ground. A dead giant ground rat lay sprawled in the dirt, its fur matted and its body stiff.


    "What the hell is this?" I spat, recoiling from the sight.


    "It''s a giant ground r¡ª"


    "I know!" I snapped. "I''m not that stupid. But what was he doing with it?"


    "Fodder," the old man replied calmly, as if it were obvious. "They use these ground rats as feed for the beasts people keep around here. The richer townsmen even have mountain dogs as a status symbol, to flaunt their superiority in the village. And at the school? They keep beasts too¡ªfeed them ground rats and other small creatures."


    "So, we''re using this as bait, aren''t we?"


    The old man gave a single nod. "I''ll mask the stench with herbs and some mountain soil while I prepare the battlefield."


    He gave me a meaningful look. I knew what he was about to say, and I wasn''t having it.


    "No fucking way am I carrying this all the way to the forest."


    He smiled in that infuriating way of his and, without a word, vines began wrapping around the rat''s corpse. They coiled tightly around it, lifting the body off the ground with ease.


    "Pick it up," he ordered, like it was no big deal.


    I glared at him, my frustration boiling over. "Fuck you, old man."


    I had no choice.


    We walked through the streets, the unbearable stench clinging to me like a curse. The garland of flowers around my neck did nothing to mask it; it just seemed to mingle with the rot, creating an even fouler mix. People along the way wrinkled their noses, casting sideways glances at the green-wrapped bundle I carried in my hands. Some whispered behind their palms, and others just outright stared. The market thinned as we moved further from the busy stalls, the paved streets giving way to dirt paths, lined with small houses and weathered walls. The air grew cooler, the noise from the village fading into the background.


    Ahead, the kingdom gates loomed tall, casting long shadows over the road. Large, wooden doors reinforced with iron bands stood solid, flanked by towering stone walls. There were guards as I expected¡ªtwo stationed at the entrance, wearing chainmail and holding spears. They spotted us before we even reached them, their eyes sharp, and one of them stepped forward, hand raised.


    "Where are you headed, and what''s your reason?" he barked, eyeing me suspiciously.


    I pulled out my ID card and flashed it at him. "I can wander wherever I want with this," I said, keeping my tone flat. "I''m not a part of this kingdom or the village."


    The guard took the card and inspected it closely. After a moment, he gave a short nod. "Alright," he said, handing it back. But then his gaze shifted behind me, landing on the old man.


    "And who''s that?" the guard asked, his voice hardening. "Show your face."


    The old man slowly lifted his hood, revealing his unkempt grey beard and shaggy white hair. His green eyes, sharp and unsettling, watched the guard with a calm intensity.


    The guard squinted, recognition dawning in his eyes. "Wait... aren''t you the guy who got humbled by the king? What are you doing here with this kid?"


    With those words, it clicked for me¡ªthis guard was a fellow player too.


    "I want to train this boy," the old man said in a low, steady voice. "Make way."


    The guard''s expression shifted from curiosity to mocking disbelief. "Train this boy? You, who lost your rune?" He laughed, the sound sharp and jeering. "Sure, sure... go ahead. But boy," he said, looking at me with a smirk, "if you''re planning to get a rune to climb the levels, don''t be too hard on yourself. Just this morning, another player died sparring with a beast."


    I stiffened at his words, but he continued, his tone almost casual. "You know how it is here. A player might live for centuries, maybe eternity, as long as they stay peaceful, no wounds, no injuries. But the second you try something risky¡ªlike fighting a horned tiger¡ªand you get gravely injured? That''s it. You''re done. You die. Immortality doesn''t mean invulnerability."


    I clenched my jaw, holding my tongue. We passed through the gates, the old man silent behind me.


    We walked for about an hour, the dense forest swallowing the path behind us. The sun had begun its slow descent, casting long shadows through the trees, the light dimming to a warm, amber glow. It was nearly 5 p.m., and the sky had taken on that late afternoon haze, a reminder that the night was creeping in. The vine-wrapped body clung to my back, the weight uncomfortable but bearable.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    "We''ve covered about two miles from the kingdom," I muttered to myself, wiping the sweat from my brow.


    "This should be good enough," Vincent finally said as we entered a clearing. The space was nestled deep in the forest, almost hidden by the towering trees. It looked like someone had camped here long ago¡ªmaybe years, judging by the worn fire pit and scattered stones. Bushes had overgrown the area, with small saplings sprouting in clusters, their roots barely established.


    Vincent scanned the area and nodded to himself. "I''ll trim these bushes and grow some flowers to mask the scent of that rat. You¡ªstart clearing the rocks and stones so the ground''s level enough for you to fight the beast."


    I nodded, grateful to be rid of the burden, and finally let the rat''s vine-covered body slide off my back. Vincent waved his hand, and from the ground, delicate flowers began to bloom rapidly, covering the rat in a blanket of petals. The rotten smell was instantly muffled, a surprising relief.


    As I bent down to start gathering the scattered stones, a thought gnawed at me. "Hey, old man," I called over to him, watching as he carefully trimmed the bushes with a flick of his fingers. "Didn''t you say two players together would attract beasts?"


    He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. "Of course. That''s one reason I''m here¡ªto attract the horned tiger."


    I narrowed my eyes. "And how are you so sure it''s the horned tiger that''ll show up and not some other larger beast?"


    He chuckled softly, not bothering to stop his work. "I''ve laid a number of vine traps around this clearing. If some other beast decides to show up, well..." He paused for effect. "We''ll have a good fight before we die."


    I swallowed hard. "You''re not serious... right?"


    "Relax," he waved his hand dismissively. "There aren''t many other dangerous beasts in this part of the forest. Over the hills, maybe¡ªsome mountain dogs, or slumbering sloths. But here? It''s mostly smaller creatures like the horned tiger."


    "Guess I''ve got no choice but to trust you," I muttered, returning to my task.


    I started by picking up the larger rocks first, tossing them into a pile at the edge of the clearing. The stones were rough and jagged, probably broken off from the nearby hills over time. I moved quickly, trying to clear the space while daylight still clung to the sky.


    The ground beneath my feet was uneven, so I used a nearby stick to dig up the more stubborn roots and pebbles lodged in the dirt. As I worked, I couldn''t shake the feeling of unease settling in my gut. The deeper I cleared the space, the more exposed I felt. With each rock I tossed aside, I imagined the tiger''s claws, its near-blind eyes honing in on us through instinct alone.


    The clearing was starting to take shape¡ªan arena for the inevitable. I paused for a moment to watch Vincent. He was growing flowers in neat rows now, using their scent to mask the bait. His vines slithered through the underbrush like snakes, weaving small barriers between the trees.


    Vincent continued weaving a net through the vines, his hands deftly setting up tripwires with practiced ease. He didn''t seem rushed or anxious, only focused on his task, as if laying traps for a horned tiger was just another day for him. I watched in silence as he grew a spear-shaped weapon from the dry husk of a nearby tree and handed it to me. The wood was sharp, polished by the smooth magic of his vines.


    "It''s your weapon," he said simply, leaving no room for argument.


    I took it, feeling the weight of the spear in my hand, though it felt lighter than it should. This was all I had to face the horned tiger¡ªwood and vines. I knew I had no real choice in the matter, but could I really win? Even with the old man''s traps, his vines, and his strange powers, it wasn''t as if I was any match for a beast like that. In the end, it felt like it was more his battle than mine. I was just¡­ there. An insignificant player when it came to power or strength.


    As he continued working, laying the last of the traps with an almost eerie calm, I couldn''t help but wonder why he wasn''t more eager to help me directly. If I failed, he would die too, wouldn''t he? He didn''t seem mad, though. Maybe he had seen kids like me come and go through the centuries¡ªyoung players who thought they could climb the levels and fell short. He wasn''t immortal either, at least not completely. Just like me, he could die if this went wrong.


    "Hey, old man," I called out, pausing with the spear in hand.


    He didn''t bother to turn, still focused on laying the final vine trap, but I pressed on. "You said you completed the task, right? What beast did you kill?"


    The silence dragged on longer than I liked. He didn''t answer. My grip tightened around the spear, and my mind began to race with doubt. Why wasn''t he answering? I took a step forward, pointing the spear in his direction, even though I knew his vines could easily disarm me if he wanted.


    "You aren''t trying to use me to get your kill, are you?" I demanded.


    Vincent stopped what he was doing, his body still, the air around us growing heavier. Slowly, he turned, locking his sharp green eyes onto mine. There was no amusement in his expression, only cold sincerity as his voice cut through the space between us.


    "I didn''t kill a beast," he said, his words clear and deliberate.


    My brow furrowed, suspicion creeping deeper into my thoughts.


    He held my gaze for a moment longer, and I could see something dark flicker in his eyes. His next words hit me like a punch to the gut.


    "What I killed¡­ was a player. Not one. I killed the soldiers of the king."


    I stood there, speechless, the spear lowering in my hand as my mind tried to wrap around the revelation.


    "That''s right, boy," Vincent said, his voice steady as if he were discussing the weather, not murder. "A rival player counts as a beast too. And if you were to kill me right now, you wouldn''t have to face the horned tiger." He opened his arms wide, as though offering himself up, his green eyes glinting in the fading light. "Go on, boy. The choice is yours."


    I gritted my teeth, gripping the spear tightly, the weight of his words settling in. "Just shut up and do your work," I muttered, not trusting myself to say more.


    Vincent only smiled, the same infuriating smile he always had, and turned back to his task, weaving vines into intricate traps. He moved with ease, like a man who had lived too long, who had seen too much, and now found the whole world to be some sort of bitter joke.


    As I watched him, guilt began gnawing at the edges of my mind. "And I''m sorry," I said quietly, not even looking at him. My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew he heard me.


    For a moment, Vincent paused, then continued without a word. And I hated myself for it. Why did I even doubt him after all he''d done for me? Why did my mind jump to betrayal the moment things didn''t feel right?


    Maybe it was just who I''d become¡ªa boy forged in a world where trust was a weakness, where survival meant keeping your guard up even when someone extended a hand to help. I had learned long ago that doubt wasn''t just a habit; it was a shield. One I kept around me to survive, to keep others at bay, to never let them close enough to hurt me.


    Because deep down, I knew that the moment I let my guard down, the world would remind me just how unforgiving it could be. I''d seen people smile before stabbing you in the back. I''d watched them promise loyalty while planning to abandon you at the first sign of trouble.


    So yeah, maybe I doubted Vincent. Maybe part of me believed that if I didn''t stay one step ahead, I''d end up like all those fools who had trusted the wrong person at the wrong time.


    But in that moment, as he calmly worked to prepare the battlefield, I realized something else. I wasn''t just doubting him. I was doubting myself. Doubting that I could ever rise to the challenge. Doubting that I could face something bigger than me and come out alive.


    And maybe¡­ just maybe¡­ doubting was easier than believing.


    "There, we''re done," Vincent said, stepping back to admire the traps he''d set. His voice was steady, as if the conversation from before had never happened. "Now, we just wait for the beast to appear. Can you bring the ground rat and place it by the hole I''ve dug?"


    I moved without a word, carrying the stiff, vine-wrapped carcass of the rat to the shallow pit he had prepared. As I laid it down, positioning its head to face upward, peeking out like it was waiting for something, I felt a heaviness settle over me. The old man had seen through me¡ªthrough the doubt, the guilt that had lingered from our earlier exchange.


    He noticed, of course. "Don''t worry about it, boy. I''ve heard words like that for countless centuries," he said, his tone soft but unwavering. "Just cope with it. Make up your mind, because you can''t fight a beast if you''re absent-minded."


    He was right. The moment I let my thoughts drift, the horned tiger would tear me apart. No distractions. No second chances. I placed the rat with an almost mechanical precision, pushing away the lingering sadness. Its glassy eyes stared up at nothing, its body limp as if it had resigned itself to its fate, much like me.


    Vincent finished his final preparations, then helped me climb a tree overlooking the clearing. As I settled in among the thick branches, my body tense, he disappeared beneath a bed of vines, shrubs, and flowers, camouflaging himself completely.


    "Well, now we wait," he murmured from his hiding spot, his voice barely audible through the dense greenery.


    And so we did. Sitting up in the tree, every nerve on edge, I found myself staring down at the scene below¡ªwaiting for the horned tiger, waiting for whatever came next. It was the stillness that weighed on me most, a silence so deep it felt like the forest itself was holding its breath. It was a moment suspended between life and death, where the world could shift in the blink of an eye.


    I couldn''t afford to think about the past anymore. Not about Vincent, not about the countless players before me, or the weight of what it meant to kill, to survive. All that mattered now was what was coming out of the shadows. And whether or not I was ready for it.

 Blood, Rune, and Resolve

    The sun had set, and night had quietly fallen. I sat perched on top of the tree for what felt like hours, long enough that I couldn''t tell if Vincent was still hidden beneath the vines and bushes below. I had to trust him, at least for now. A man over five centuries old against a fresh beginner like me¡ªcomplaining wouldn''t help, even if he didn''t have a rune at the moment. In truth, I was the fortunate one to have crossed paths with him.


    I imagined him sitting alone in the graveyard, unnoticed by those who passed through, uncaring for their presence. A self-imposed punishment for a battle he had lost¡ªone that should have been his victory. I hadn''t seen his Thornveil yet, but after witnessing what he could do even without it, I could only imagine the kind of power it held. And if such a force had been subdued by the king...


    I paused, my thoughts drifting. Riptide. What kind of unimaginable power must Riptide possess? My hand slipped into my pocket, feeling the familiar shape of the rune still resting there. If only I could unlock its full potential.


    Then, I recalled the old man''s words: "The power is within ourselves. The rune only amplifies it."


    I let go of the rune, pulling both hands free. I held them out in front of me, focusing. I pictured the sensation of lightning surging through my veins, starting from my heart and streaming towards my fingertips. I concentrated until¡ª


    Pfff¡ªa soft sound, like air escaping. I snapped my eyes open, expecting the thrill of success, but instead, my heart sank into surprise and concern.


    There, just beneath me, a beast stirred, rustling through the vines and leaves the old man had set as a barrier.


    I almost slipped from the tree, but the beast didn''t seem to notice. My gaze shifted to the spot where the old man was hidden, tension creeping into every fiber of my body. I squinted at the creature, trying to make it out in the dim moonlight. Shadows draped over its form, but the moon provided just enough light to catch glimpses of it as it moved.


    Its frame was massive, its sleek muscles rippling beneath a coat of dark fur that seemed almost too silent for its size. As it prowled forward, I caught sight of something sharp glinting atop its head¡ªhorns, long and jagged, curving back menacingly. The beast''s tail flicked in slow, deliberate motions, revealing its coiled strength, and its heavy paws padded across the ground, making barely a sound. From the size, the silhouette, and the way it moved, there was no mistaking it... it had to be one of those. A horned tiger alright.


    I glanced toward the old man''s hiding spot. He didn''t seem to be making a move. The traps¡ªwere they even working? In this darkness, I couldn''t tell.


    The beast crept toward the bait¡ªa dead rat, its eyes glinting with primal hunger. My pulse quickened. When was I supposed to act? The old man hadn''t given me any signal. Should I wait for him to make the first move? Suddenly, a sharp snap broke the silence. The beast froze. My heart skipped. The vines had snapped beneath its weight. It took a confused step backward, but in doing so, one of its legs became entangled in the old man''s traps¡ªvines coiling tightly around its limb.


    The creature let out a low growl, jerking back, thrashing, desperate to free itself. For a moment, it seemed stuck, helpless. But then, with a violent tug, the vines began to give. My eyes widened as the beast, more enraged than ever, tore itself free, breaking through the trap in an instant.


    With terrifying speed, it charged toward the bait. Its muscles surged, and in a blur of motion, the massive body was hurtling forward, fangs bared and horns gleaming.


    But just before it could reach the dead rat, the old man sprang from his camouflaged hiding place, rising up from the bushes like a ghost. His hands moved quickly, pulling a hidden vine, and in an instant, a large net sprung into the air, snapping into place with precision. The beast ran straight into it, thrashing wildly as it became tangled in the netting, its furious roars echoing through the night.


    "Nowww!" the old man shouted.


    Without hesitation, I jumped from the tree, adrenaline coursing through me. My body was drenched in sweat, but I didn''t stop. I grabbed the spear he had given me from the ground, my hands trembling but firm. I sprinted toward the struggling tiger, knowing this was my moment to act.


    The tiger''s eyes locked onto me, and its struggles grew more frantic, more desperate. Every muscle in its body tensed, thrashing with renewed force. My grip tightened around the spear. My mind raced¡ªshould I throw it, or thrust it in once I got close? I chose the latter, bracing myself for the confrontation.


    But then, in a swift and terrifying motion, the beast stilled for a brief moment. Its horns, sharp and lethal, hooked onto the vines. With a quick, powerful jerk, it tore through the net, shredding the trap as if it were nothing.


    "Down!" the old man''s voice cut through the chaos.


    Instinct took over, and I ducked just as something whizzed above me. The old man had thrown several small, sharp objects¡ªthorns, I realized¡ªat the beast. A few missed their mark, but a couple found their target, embedding themselves shallowly into the tiger''s thick hide. It wasn''t enough to wound, but the poison... that could change the tide.


    The beast faltered, its movements sluggish for a split second. It was all the opening I needed.


    I charged forward, spear in hand, aiming for the side of the tiger''s body where its ribs were most exposed. But just as I closed the distance, the tiger lunged back with incredible speed, its sheer size and power nearly overwhelming me. The spear grazed its fur but didn''t sink in, the tip skidding off the beast''s hide as if I had struck stone.


    The tiger roared, spinning around, its horned head swinging dangerously close. I barely dodged, feeling the rush of air as the horn cut through where I had been standing. The old man was quick, darting forward and snapping another vine trap in place, trying to slow it down.


    But the tiger was relentless. It shook off the effects of the poison faster than we had anticipated, its rage driving it forward. Its claws slashed at the ground, tearing through dirt and foliage, while its sharp, glowing eyes darted between me and the old man.


    "Keep moving!" the old man shouted, circling around the tiger, his hands weaving intricate gestures as more vines sprang from the earth, trying to tangle the creature again. I moved in, trying to thrust the spear once more, but the tiger anticipated my move. It twisted its body, and with a heavy swipe of its massive paw, knocked me off balance. I stumbled back, my spear just barely staying in my grasp.


    The old man flung another set of thorns at the beast, this time hitting its hind leg. The tiger hesitated, its body convulsing slightly as the poison began to take more effect. But it was still far from defeated.


    I steadied myself, heart pounding, as the tiger glared at me with wild, feral eyes. Each second felt like an eternity, the tension between us palpable. The old man and I exchanged glances. We needed to end this, and fast.


    "Go for the legs!" he barked.


    I nodded, refocusing my aim. We weren''t just fighting a beast¡ªwe were battling time itself, and with every moment the tiger grew more dangerous.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    But something terrible happened. Something I dearly wished to not occur.


    I took a step forward and froze. The old man''s face mirrored my shock, wide-eyed and terrified. Just behind the horned tiger, another creature emerged from the shadows¡ªbigger, much bigger. Its eyes glowed red, piercing through the night. My body tensed, muscles locked in place as the tiger turned its head to face the approaching monster. It glanced between us and the creature, then seemed to realize what we already knew: it had no chance against what was behind it. With a low growl, the tiger turned to face the greater threat.


    The air around the creature was suffocating, thick with an oppressive force that seemed to drain the courage from me. Each step it took made the ground tremble slightly, and the very atmosphere felt heavier, as if the weight of its presence alone was enough to crush hope. The stench of raw power radiated from it, mixing with the earth and the cold night air, filling my lungs with dread. Its sheer size¡ªtowering at nearly four meters¡ªmade the horned tiger look like a mere pest in comparison.


    It was a Diremaw, a beast of this world known for its brutality, nearly a D-tier monster. In comparison, the horned tiger barely registered as an F-tier at best. The tiger, realizing it was cornered, growled defensively, but the Diremaw didn''t even flinch. Its massive form moved closer, slow and deliberate, as if it knew that nothing here could challenge it.


    The tiger had no choice. It lunged at the Diremaw, claws out, fangs bared. But with a casual swipe of its massive, clawed paw, the bear sent the tiger flying through the air like a rag doll. The beast''s shriek pierced the night as it slammed into a tree and collapsed to the ground, unmoving.


    The Diremaw then turned its gaze toward us. My blood ran cold. The spear slipped from my hands, clattering uselessly to the ground. If humans were ranked among the monsters, a runed human would be D-tier, just like this monster. And I didn''t even have my rune active. The Diremaw hadn''t come for the horned tiger¡ªit had come for us.


    "Run!" the old man screamed.


    He didn''t need to tell me twice. I spun around and bolted, but just as I did, my leg caught on something, sending me crashing to the ground. My heart stopped. One of the old man''s vine traps had caught my ankle.


    "Vincent!" I yelled, panic surging through me.


    But the old man didn''t respond. He was standing his ground, facing the Diremaw alone. I fumbled for the spear, desperately trying to cut through the vines binding me. My gaze flicked between the vines and the scene unfolding before me.


    The Diremaw towered over Vincent, who threw a handful of thorns at the creature, but they bounced off its thick hide like pebbles. He dashed to the side, avoiding a massive swipe of the bear''s paw, but he was too slow. The Diremaw''s next blow landed solidly, knocking him backward. He rolled to his feet, blood trickling down his head, but he was already faltering.


    With every attack, the Diremaw grew more ferocious. It swiped again, catching Vincent in the side. He stumbled, blood dripping from his guts and legs, but still, he fought on, refusing to fall. The beast''s sheer size and strength made Vincent''s efforts seem futile¡ªlike a mouse fighting a lion.


    I finally snapped the vine holding my leg and scrambled to my feet, ready to run. But just as I started to dash away, something fell from my pocket. I stopped. It was my rune.


    I stared at it for what felt like an eternity. The stone felt impossibly heavy in my hand. My mind raced. I had dragged Vincent into this fight. What kind of person would I be if I ran now? What would I become if I abandoned someone who had fought for me?


    I looked back at the fight. The old man was barely standing, blood pouring from his wounds, his breaths ragged. With a roar, the Diremaw slammed him to the ground, his body hitting the dirt with a sickening thud. He coughed up blood, yet through it all, he smiled¡ªhis lips curved in a small, defiant grin as though, in that moment, he had already won. He thought I had escaped, that his sacrifice meant something.


    The Diremaw approached slowly, savoring its victory. Vincent stood on trembling legs, facing the beast with blood streaming down his face, yet still, he smiled. "Now I may die fighting for something," he whispered, almost as if to himself.


    I stood there, frozen, my hand clenched around the rune. I remembered those who had once abandoned me, leaving me to fend for myself. Was I going to become like them, running at the first sign of danger? I thought about the old man, his quiet resolve, the way he had fought despite knowing the odds. He had chosen to stand and fight, not for himself, but for me.


    I clenched my jaw, my heart pounding in my chest. No. I couldn''t run. Not this time.


    This was my battle, not his.


    I raised my eyes, determination hardening within me. The old man wasn''t going to die here. Not alone. Not like this.


    I threw the rune at the Diremaw. Its monstrous head snapped in the direction of the raw power it sensed, its massive body tensing as it roared, confused by the sudden presence of such strength. But the rune was small, lost in the dirt beneath its claws, hidden from its greedy search. Frustrated, the Diremaw growled, its eyes scanning the ground, but it couldn''t find the source of the power.


    I didn''t wait. I ran to stand in front of the old man, whose face was a pale mask of disbelief, blood still dripping from his wounds. His breath was ragged, and for a moment, he seemed dazed, as if he couldn''t comprehend what was happening.


    I raised the spear, pointing its sharpened tip at the Diremaw. The beast turned its glowing red eyes on me, and for a heartbeat, we stared at each other, locked in a silent standoff. Its eyes blazed with primal fury, the light of a predator that knew it had the upper hand. My eyes, though, burned with something else¡ªsomething desperate, raw, and filled with the tears of everything I had endured, everything I had lost.


    The old man finally stirred, his weak voice filled with confusion. "Boy?" he rasped, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Why... why haven''t you run?"


    I swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like the sky itself had descended. My voice, though trembling, carried an edge of determination. "If I can''t even face a beast like this," I said, my breath heavy with fear and resolve, "what chance do I have in the levels beyond? If I run now, my rune will abandon me... I''ll abandon myself. I''ve been abandoned before. I won''t do it again. Not now. Not ever."


    The old man''s face twisted into a strange expression, part confusion, part awe. His bloodshot eyes softened, and for a fleeting second, it almost looked like he was about to cry. Then, a strange sound escaped him¡ªa soft, sad laugh, mingled with tears and blood.


    The Diremaw snarled, its massive body lumbering toward us, its eyes gleaming with cruel delight. It was as though the beast understood we were at its mercy, and it was savoring the moment, playing with its food.


    "Can you still fight, old man?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "If we''re going to die here, can you at least give me something to work with in your final moments?"


    The old man coughed, a harsh, wet sound, but then, to my surprise, he laughed. It started as a gentle chuckle, then grew into a booming, hearty laugh, echoing across the dark woods.


    "You''re amusing, boy¡ªvery amusing," he said, his voice growing weaker but filled with an odd delight. "I knew when I found you, you were different from the others... not like the strangers I''ve seen come and go, every day, every year, every century." He coughed again, blood staining his lips, but the fire in his eyes hadn''t dimmed. "Hahaha... ha... ahhh, this is exhilarating. It''s almost like that day, when I fought that arrogant king. Oh, I can feel it! I can feel the rush like it was yesterday!"


    I stared at him, bewildered, wondering if the pain and the blood loss had finally driven him mad. "What... are you talking about?" I asked, exasperated. "Focus! I can''t have you losing your mind right now!"


    The old man''s eyes glinted, and for a brief, terrifying moment, the Diremaw''s lips curled into what could only be described as a smile. "It''s playing with its food," the old man muttered darkly. "It knows we''re unarmed¡ªno runes to protect us. It thinks it''s invincible now."


    The Diremaw began to stalk toward us, closing the distance. Each step it took felt like the ground itself was shuddering, and the sheer weight of its presence grew unbearable.


    The old man looked at me, his face softening. "Sorry, boy," he said. "I never even asked your name."


    I hesitated for a moment before responding. "Eldric," I said, gripping the spear tighter. "Call me Eldric, gramps."


    "Gramps, huh?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "I might look like an old man, but I''m only forty-eight in my world. I haven''t shaved for centuries, that''s all."


    I shot him a look of disbelief. "We can talk about that later. Do you have any plan? Any traps left?"


    Vincent smiled, his eyes gleaming with a mad glint as he slowly pushed me aside, stepping forward to confront the bear head-on. "Sorry for getting us into this mess, boy. How ironic, isn''t it?" He raised his arms, as if welcoming the coming storm, his voice rising with a strange energy, both calm and defiant.


    Then, his voice dropped, steady and low, and he spoke as if reciting something from deep within his soul:


    "Though skies may darken,


    And beasts may come,


    My blade is weak, but my heart grows strong.


    In the shadow''s maw, I shall not kneel,


    For tonight, I fight...


    Come, my dear Thornveil."


    As he spoke the final words, his eyes seemed to shine with an otherworldly light, and a pulse of energy rippled through the air. The Diremaw hesitated for a split second, sensing something had shifted. The old man, despite his frail body, was no longer standing alone. He had become a force of something far greater than himself.


    This was our final stand. The moment was upon us.

 Monster

    I watched as Vincent descended back onto the ground, a magnificent stone now embedded in the vines wrapped tightly around his collar. The Thornveil loomed ominously before me. The Diremaw took a cautious step back, an instinctive reaction. The Vincent standing before me pulsed with an otherworldly energy, his very presence altering the atmosphere. The skies darkened, clouds gathering as if summoned. Winds whipped violently, strong enough that I could barely keep my eyes open, and the deafening rumble of thunder filled my ears¡ªall because of one man and one rune.


    Vincent raised his hand, fingers pointed at the Diremaw, and suddenly, a massive thorn materialized from thin air, hovering as though held by invisible threads. I was frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle. The old man steadied his aim, and then, with a snap of energy, the thorn shot forward like a bullet. But to my shock, the Diremaw dodged it in a blur, its four legs moving with incredible speed.


    The force of the attack sent a shockwave through the air, the recoil rippling through Vincent. Sweat dripped down his face, the strain of his earlier wounds showing despite their healing. He steadied himself, his gaze locked onto the Diremaw. The beast, undeterred, stood firm, its body coiled as though ready for another dodge. It wasn''t going to flee¡ªit was confident, almost arrogant in its speed and ability to evade.


    Another giant thorn materialized in Vincent''s hand, this time aimed directly at the Diremaw''s exposed stomach¡ªits only vulnerable spot wide enough for a lethal strike. He anticipated the beast''s instinct to dodge, knowing it would never allow itself to be hit so easily. With precision, he launched the thorn, but as expected, the Diremaw threw itself to the right. Vincent, ever sharp, shifted his aim at the last second. Yet, the creature''s reflexes were remarkable. It latched onto a nearby tree with its left forelimb, using its immense strength to propel itself backward, narrowly avoiding the thorn by inches.


    Vincent staggered slightly, losing his footing for a brief moment. He was struggling, and it showed. Was it his age? The mental strain of his injuries? Or perhaps something more? I glanced at him carefully, noticing something odd¡ªhe was only projecting his right hand, his left arm tucked behind his back, facing me. Confusion rippled through me until I scanned the area. Vines were sprouting from the ground, encircling me in a protective barrier.


    He was shielding me, even as he fought the Diremaw.


    The beast, blood still dripping from its maw, crept closer, its red eyes glowing menacingly through the storm. Every step was measured, cautious, as though it too sensed Vincent''s weariness. "Stick close," Vincent called out, his voice steady despite the chaos around us.


    "Old man," I protested, stepping forward. "I don''t need your protection. This is my fight¡ªmy task. I dragged you into this mess, made you summon your rune and battle a Diremaw, a beast on par with a runed human. I''m already disgraced, already furious. The last thing I want is you humiliating me by fighting for both of us." My voice shook with frustration as I stared at him, his face still fixed on the Diremaw.


    The beast''s mouth dripped with fresh blood, its eyes locked on Vincent, as if no longer playing but ready to finish the fight. "Stop protecting me. Attack it with everything you''ve got. That''s my final request of you."


    Vincent said nothing for a moment, then slowly, his left hand moved from behind him, and he extended both arms in front of him. "I cannot fight with everything I have," he said quietly. "And I don''t need to. If I did, this entire forest would be reduced to rubble, and you along with it. But... brace yourself."


    Suddenly, the ground trembled as a massive vine, thicker than a tree trunk, surged upward, wrapping itself around the Diremaw''s hind leg. The beast growled in confusion, thrashing and clawing at the vine with its enormous claws, each swipe capable of tearing a human to pieces. But the vine held firm, unyielding despite the Diremaw''s efforts.


    A faint smile crossed Vincent''s lips. With a swift motion of his right hand, he conjured another thorn¡ªthis one larger, more imposing. "Take this, you overgrown sack of meat."


    The thorn shot forward, faster than before, moving with such speed that even the Diremaw''s quick reflexes couldn''t save it. The beast raised its right forelimb, intending to swat the thorn away as it had done to the Horned Tiger, but the projectile moved too swiftly. It tore into the Diremaw''s limb, a sickening spray of blood erupting as the beast howled in agony.


    But the creature wasn''t done yet. The shriek died abruptly, and its eyes glowed brighter, more intense. "Cover your ears!" Vincent commanded sharply, and I obeyed just as the Diremaw unleashed a deafening roar.


    The sound was unlike anything I''d ever heard. My legs shook violently, the force of the roar rattling my bones. Blood trickled from my ears as the unbearable noise blurred my vision. My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed, trembling. It was the Roar of Dominion, a sound that instilled terror in anyone weaker than the creature that wielded it. My body betrayed me, proving what I already knew¡ªI was weaker than the Diremaw.


    Through blurred vision, I looked up. Vincent stood tall, his arms still outstretched, his gaze fixed on the beast. He was stronger. Even against a monster like the Diremaw, even while protecting me, Vincent was stronger.


    Vincent swayed his left hand, and another massive vine burst from the earth, snaking around the Diremaw''s throat, tightening with each second. Its tongue lolled out, the roar dying in its throat, but my body still trembled, the aftershocks of its primal scream lingering. With a sharp pull, Vincent brought the beast crashing to the ground. Another flick of his wrist summoned more vines, twisting and coiling around the Diremaw''s massive form.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    A bright, unsettling smile crept across the old man''s face. The vines constricted, binding the creature''s legs and torso, trapping it where it lay, helpless. Its teeth sank into its tongue, the tip hanging grotesquely from its mouth, blood staining the fur around its jaw. The once-mighty Diremaw, a D-tier beast capable of slaughtering a thousand men in a single frenzy, was now a pitiable creature, pinned to the earth and reduced to a mere shadow of its former strength.


    It couldn''t even twitch. It lay motionless, as if begging for mercy.


    Mercy from a man who had endured over six centuries of loneliness. A man who wielded the power of a rune. The Diremaw''s bloodshot eyes, once glowing red with fury, now dimmed, reflecting only fear and fatigue. It stared at Vincent, locked in a gaze with the man who stood just a few feet away, separated only by the massive, sharp thorn suspended in midair¡ªits tip hovering mere inches from the beast''s skull.


    "You were a force of nature," Vincent''s voice broke the silence, low and somber. "It was your duty to protect these sacred forests and the creatures within them. No matter how powerful I may be, I have no right to pass judgment on a beast that was only following its instinct. But my friend... we were dragged into this game against our will. Forced to survive at any cost, even if it means killing another being. Even if it means destroying a life... or a family."


    His words hung heavy in the air, and I realized the truth in them. Diremaws didn''t rampage for the sake of violence; they only attacked when threatened. There was no way Vincent and I, without his rune, could have posed any real danger to it. Then why did it attack us?


    My heart sank as the realization dawned. It had been protecting something. I couldn''t see them, but I knew¡ªits younglings. It had attacked not to hunt us, but to defend them, likely from the horned tiger we had summoned. Once the tiger fell, the Diremaw''s instincts had kicked in, driving it to eliminate any other threats. Even if we let it go now, it would have no choice but to kill us, having witnessed Vincent''s overwhelming power, all to ensure the safety of its brood.


    I looked at Vincent''s face. There was sadness there, deep and profound. He took no pleasure in what he was about to do. Taking another life¡ªanother soul¡ªjust so we could survive in this twisted game.


    "Sleep well," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the storm. "I''ll make sure to bury you."


    With that, the thorn shot forward, striking the Diremaw''s head at point-blank range. The impact was violent. Blood and bone exploded outward, splattering across the ground in a grisly display of finality. Fragments of skull flew through the air, and a pool of crimson spread rapidly beneath the beast''s motionless body. Its eyes, once full of life and fire, dulled instantly, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.


    The ground was soaked in blood, thick and dark, seeping into the earth as if the forest itself was mourning the loss of its protector. I felt my stomach churn at the sight, the sheer brutality of it turning the air sour.


    Vincent stood there, unmoved by the gore, his eyes locked on the fallen creature. Stronger, perhaps, but burdened by the weight of survival in a world that gave no quarter.


    The air grew still, an awkward silence settling over us, broken only by the low rumbles of distant thunder in the sky. I stood up, my legs still weak from the trembling, the last vestiges of fear leaving my body. "Well, there goes my task," I muttered, trying to break the tension, to shake off the lingering unease. But Vincent said nothing. He remained silent, his gaze distant. I understood why.


    Suddenly, his hand rose, pointing toward something in the distance. I followed his finger, expecting to see the Diremaw''s broken body. But no, it was something smaller, further off. The rat? No¡ªjust beyond, half-buried under leaves and debris, lay the body of the horned tiger. I squinted under the whipping wind. At first, I wasn''t sure. But then, I saw it¡ªa faint rise and fall. The beast was still breathing, just barely.


    I glanced back at Vincent. He was staring at the sky, his eyes tracing the dark clouds swirling overhead, heavy with unshed rain. I nodded silently and approached the tiger. Blood oozed from its wounds, staining its striped fur. The poison from Vincent''s thorns must have paralyzed it, leaving it helpless, struggling for life. This was my only chance, and I knew what had to be done.


    I had left my spear somewhere in the chaos. Looking around, I found a large stone, heavy enough to do the job. I sat beside the tiger, its labored breathing faint against the backdrop of the approaching storm.


    "Sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible.


    I raised the stone and brought it down, hard. The impact was sickening, the sound of bone cracking beneath the weight making my stomach churn. But I kept going, again and again, each strike more brutal than the last. Blood sprayed with each blow, splattering across the dirt, the stench of death thick in the air.


    I didn''t want to do this, but I had no choice. This was survival. This was the world we were trapped in, and mercy had no place here. The tiger''s body stilled, its life snuffed out by my hands.


    I stood up, wiping the blood from my face, my chest heaving. I scanned the area, trying to compose myself, and that''s when I saw it¡ªa tiny, bright stone glimmering amidst the rubble. The rune. The once dull, lifeless stone now pulsed faintly with light. I picked it up, the weight of it suddenly feeling heavier than before. Was all of this worth it?


    As if reading my thoughts, Vincent spoke, his voice cutting through the tension. "The only path there is, boy, is forward," he said, his eyes still fixed on the stormy sky. "No matter what happens, or who you lose along the way, you must keep moving forward. The dead will only welcome you to join them. This game isn''t about right or wrong, good or evil. It doesn''t care. All it asks of you is survival."


    His words hit me harder than any strike I''d dealt that day. I turned the rune over in my hand, the weight of my choices pressing down on me. "If that''s the case," I asked quietly, "then will you kill me to survive, old man?"


    I slipped the rune into my pocket and waited for his answer. But Vincent didn''t respond. Instead, a single drop of water fell from the sky, landing on his nose. He looked up again, watching as more drops followed, the storm finally breaking.


    He let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Well then, my dear friend," he said, his voice carrying a strange sense of finality, "whom I''ve known for two days out of my centuries in this world... you must go on with your journey. Advance to the next level. Now, before he arrives."


    "He?" I asked, confusion twisting in my chest. "Who are you talking about?"


    Vincent''s face darkened. His eyes, filled with an unspoken dread, met mine. "Now that I''ve summoned the rune," he said slowly, "I''ve committed an act of betrayal against the kingdom. I now hold power nearly equal to that of Riptide." His words hung heavy in the air, the gravity of his confession settling over me.


    He leaned in, his eyes piercing into mine. "King Martin II is coming."

 Crimson Path

    "King Martin... I''ve never met him, though I''ve thought about it," I muttered, glancing at Vincent. "Is he coming for you?"


    Vincent nodded, but his eyes remained distant, fixed on the thickening fog ahead. The storm raged around us, heavy rain slashing the ground, the howling winds making it difficult to think clearly.


    "Should we run?" I asked, feeling an uneasy tension settle in my chest. "I mean, I can''t fight¡ªor assist you¡ªlike you know. And since a wielder of Riptide has already defeated you once, I don''t think fighting the king is a good idea, either." I paused, waiting for him to respond. "You''re mentally exhausted, the storm''s severe, and with all this rain, it might work to his advantage."


    Vincent didn''t reply. He stood still, his eyes searching the fog, as if waiting for King Martin to appear at any moment. I hadn''t noticed how thick the fog had grown until now. It wrapped around us, suffocating the air, making the world feel smaller, more dangerous. His silence hung in the cold wind, leaving me torn.


    I couldn''t leave him here. Not like this.


    "Can you proceed to the next level?" Vincent asked suddenly, his voice cutting through my thoughts.


    "I don''t think so¡ª" I started, but my mind was reeling.


    1. Obtain the Rune ¨C Completed


    2. Cover a distance of 20 miles ¨C Completed


    3. Live 3 days in Level 0 ¨C Completed


    4. Kill a beast from the game ¨C Completed


    5. Perform an attack using the Rune ¨C Completed


    I stared at the list in disbelief. The third and fourth tasks, I remembered doing. But the fifth? I didn''t recall using the Rune in any attack.


    "Hey, Messenger, is this some kind of glitch?" I asked, confusion settling deeper in my mind.


    "No, you are currently eligible to advance to the next level. Do you wish to proceed?" the Messenger replied, his voice cold, indifferent.


    I hesitated. Advance? Now? I didn''t even know what awaited me on the next level. I turned to Vincent, feeling the weight of the decision pulling at me. He looked at me as if he didn''t want to ask the question again.


    "Yes, I think I can," I replied, my words uncertain.


    "Good, then proceed," Vincent said flatly.


    "What? How? What are you even saying¡ª" I stammered, confusion and anxiety swirling inside me. "If you want me to escape from the king, why don''t you come with me?"


    Vincent turned to me then, his sharp gaze locking onto mine. The rain clung to his hair, dripping down his face, but he didn''t seem to notice. "I''m not running away from a pathetic fool who''s afraid of others wielding power on equal footing," he said, his voice steady, calm. "I will face him here."


    There was a finality in his words that made my chest tighten. He had already made up his mind. His determination was like a wall I couldn''t break through.


    "If I die, then so be it. But if I win..." A brief smile flickered on his face, sharp and knowing. "I''ll consider entering Level 1. But don''t wait for me. I''ll catch up to you on my own. I''m strong."


    I stood there, rain soaking through my clothes, wind howling around us, and I felt torn. Part of me wanted to argue, to convince him to come with me. But I knew. This was his fight, his choice. And there was no changing his mind.


    Suddenly, it felt as though the world had gone silent. The howling wind ceased, the pounding rain stopped, hanging in the air as if frozen in time. Yet, the storm was still there¡ªchurning, violent, pressing down on us with its weight. I didn''t need Vincent to confirm it. I knew what was happening.


    "He is here," Vincent muttered, his voice low but tense.


    In the thick fog, two figures slowly emerged, looming high in the air. Shiny blue stones were pierced into their alternate ears, glowing faintly through the darkness, casting an eerie light in the foggy atmosphere. Their presence was otherworldly, hovering with an unnatural grace. Beneath them, shadows rippled like waves until the faint outline of an army began to take shape¡ªa large, ominous force that seemed to spread endlessly across the landscape.


    Vincent''s face darkened. His expression was serious, his jaw clenched tightly. He was drenched, his skin glistening, but I couldn''t tell if it was sweat or rain. Either way, the tension was palpable, clinging to him like the storm itself. If a real battle broke out¡ªif these monsters clashed¡ªit would be devastating. I knew Vincent was at a disadvantage. He would suffer. His body and mind were already worn down, and facing this army would push him to the brink.


    The option to proceed to the next level flickered in my mind like a phantom. The thought lingered, tempting me¡ªa virtual reality hovering just out of reach. If I willed it, I could be sucked up into the next level, escaping this chaos. Or... perhaps it would be my first true step into Level 1. My body hesitated, indecisive, torn between running and staying.


    The shadowy figures in the fog disappeared, fading back into the mist as if they were mere illusions. And then, suddenly, the army appeared, emerging from the veil of fog. There they were¡ªHis Majesty''s forces, led by the king himself. The soldiers stood in disciplined rows, their armor dull but formidable, and in the center of it all, King Martin II.


    I scanned the army, searching for any sign of a Rune among the soldiers or even the king himself. But nothing stood out. There were no visible marks of power, no glowing stones like the ones worn by the figures I had seen earlier.


    "Where is the Riptide?" I asked, my voice a hushed whisper, more to myself than to anyone.


    Vincent nodded toward the king. "His finger."


    I squinted, focusing on the king''s hand. And there it was¡ªsmall but unmistakable¡ªa shimmering blue Rune, shaped like a droplet of water. It was embedded in the ring he wore on his finger, gleaming faintly in the dim light.


    "Isn''t it supposed to be around his neck?" I asked, confused.


    "No," the Messenger replied, his voice calm but authoritative. "Runes that do not belong to their rightful masters do not form their own vessels. The entity wielding the Rune must create a suitable vessel themselves to house the Rune they command."


    "I see..." I muttered. The significance of that small blue stone now weighed heavily on my mind. It wasn''t just any Rune¡ªit was Riptide, a symbol of immense power, controlled by a man I had never seen but already feared.


    The storm roared around us again, as if time had caught up with itself. And there we stood¡ªon the edge of something far greater than any of us could fully grasp.


    A soldier stepped forward, his armor clinking as he moved with rigid precision. The fog parted slightly to reveal his face¡ªa grim, sharp expression, clearly hardened by years of service. His voice rang out over the wind, carrying a tone of authority and cold indifference as he addressed Vincent.


    "Charles Vincent," the soldier began, standing tall as if embodying the will of the king himself. "You have committed an act of treason against the kingdom by stealing the Rune from His Majesty''s treasury. If you return it now, you will be granted mercy, or¡ª"


    But Vincent cut him off before he could finish, his voice low and brimming with anger. "Stole?" He spat the word out like poison, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You call it stealing?"


    The soldier paused, clearly taken aback by Vincent''s interruption, but stood his ground. Vincent''s hand moved ever so slightly, fingers twitching toward the Rune hidden beneath his cloak. His posture shifted¡ªsubtle, but enough to show he had no intention of surrendering.


    "I didn''t steal anything," Vincent continued, his voice rising with a venomous edge. "That Rune belongs to no one, least of all your king. It never did. It was never his to claim."


    The soldier''s face remained impassive, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as Vincent stepped forward, defiance radiating from him.


    "Tell your king," Vincent growled, "that mercy is not something I need."


    The storm roared louder as if in response to the tension, rain hammering down on the ground between them. The air felt charged, thick with the promise of violence.


    "The Rune belongs to me," Vincent said calmly, his voice cutting through the storm. "I''ll show mercy by letting you go if you return to your kingdom now. If not..." He yanked off his cloak and threw it aside, revealing the gleam of his Rune beneath. The Thornveil Rune pulsed with a soft green light in the mist, casting an eerie glow around him. I hadn''t noticed it before, but as I focused, I could see its shape more clearly now¡ªan intricate imprint resembling a leaf, much like the lightning bolt on my own Rune.


    "You dare disrespect the king!" the soldier barked, his voice rising with fury.


    "That''s enough!" A deep, commanding voice cut through the tension like a knife. It was the king. His presence silenced the chaos as he stepped forward, his figure imposing against the backdrop of fog and rain. King Martin II¡ªtall, regal, with an air of authority that sent a chill through the air. His gaze fixed on Vincent. "Vincent, although we''ve never met, I''ve heard much about you¡ªand about your Rune. One that, they say, can rival even Riptide."The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    He raised his hand, and there, glittering faintly on his finger, was the blue droplet-shaped Rune embedded in his ring. Riptide. The power it held was palpable, and as he spoke, his tone shifted to something resembling a negotiation.


    "So how about this," the king said, his voice dripping with false generosity. "You become my soldier, and you get to keep your Rune. I can overlook the... ''theft'' from the treasury." He gestured casually toward me, his gaze cold and calculating. "And we can blame the theft on this young boy. Don''t worry¡ªsince he''s just a player, I''ll give him a maximum of ten years in prison. What do you say? We can end this peacefully."


    He grinned, clearly believing he had the upper hand. Vincent remained silent, his expression unreadable, but I trusted him. He wouldn''t agree to this. He couldn''t. I felt my chest tighten, knowing that whatever decision came next would decide our fate.


    The king''s grin faded as his impatience grew. "If you''re this skeptical," he said, his voice sharp, "why don''t we kill the boy now and call it off? You can live peacefully in my kingdom, with your Rune, under my army."


    Without waiting for a reply, he made a small hand gesture. In an instant, the rain changed its course, no longer falling but hurling itself toward me¡ªeach droplet like a tiny bullet, moving with blinding speed. I froze. The force of the storm was too great, the attack too sudden. I was going to die.


    I shut my eyes, bracing for the inevitable, expecting to feel the cold sting of death wash over me again.


    But nothing came.


    I opened my eyes slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. The rain hadn''t touched me. Not a single droplet had landed. Confused, I glanced around, seeing the same bewilderment mirrored on the king''s face. His eyes narrowed in disbelief, his smug expression faltering.


    Vincent stood, unwavering, his Rune glowing brighter than before, Thornveil''s green aura pulsing in the mist. He had done something¡ªsomething I couldn''t yet comprehend. But whatever it was, it had stopped the king''s attack.


    For the first time, doubt flickered in King Martin''s eyes.


    "You disgust me," Vincent spat, his voice laced with hatred. "Not just you, but your entire bloodline. What has the first king done to deserve successors like you?" He took a step forward, his gaze unwavering, burning with disdain. "Kill the boy? I''ll say this clearly, in front of your whole army. I, Charles Den Vincent, will protect this boy with my life. And if any of you wonder what death feels like¡ªstep forward."


    The king''s face twisted in fury. He rose from his throne, lifted by the men beneath him, and despite the storm raging around us, he looked unnaturally untouched¡ªunbothered by the wind or rain. His eyes burned with wrath as he screamed, "You insolent creature, die!"


    His voice rang out, seething with rage, but Vincent didn''t flinch. He simply raised his head, meeting the king''s gaze head-on. "Do you know the real reason I lost that first battle?" Vincent asked, his tone eerily calm. "It was raining."


    The king''s eyes narrowed in suspicion.


    "Riptide has the ability to summon rain," Vincent continued, his voice almost mocking.


    "So what?" the king barked, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand. "Knowing that changes nothing! You''re going to die a slow, agonizing death just like before." With a flick of his wrist, the king sent another barrage of rain bullets toward us, each droplet sharp as a blade, moving faster than the eye could see.


    But before they could reach us, time seemed to freeze again. The storm around us held its breath. Vincent smiled¡ªa cold, confident smile.


    "Same as before?" Vincent scoffed. "Are you blind as well as foolish? Look around you."


    The king''s gaze flickered in confusion as Vincent gestured to the surroundings. The dense forest around us, the towering trees, their thick branches and endless leaves, suddenly seemed more alive, more menacing. The air itself shifted, the leaves beginning to rustle, moving in the wind that Vincent now commanded. His Rune¡ªThornveil¡ªglowed brighter, its deep green aura spreading through the forest.


    "You may have summoned the rain," Vincent said, his voice rising in power, "but you''re standing in the heart of the forest. This is my domain."


    With those words, the forest responded. Leaves came swirling from every direction, twisting and dancing in the air, creating a living barrier between us and the king''s attack. The raindrops, once deadly and precise, collided with the cyclone of leaves and disintegrated. The bullets of water were helpless, breaking apart upon impact, unable to pierce the storm of foliage Vincent had summoned. The wind howled, but it carried the scent of earth and life now, not death.


    The king''s expression shifted from arrogance to shock as he watched his power rendered useless.


    "You can control the rain, King Martin," Vincent said, his voice low and dangerous. "But here, in this forest, the trees answer to me. You''ve already lost."


    The king, who moments ago seemed invincible, faltered for the first time. His smug grin disappeared, replaced with disbelief as the swirling leaves grew thicker, their edges sharp as knives, now turning towards him and his men.


    The forest roared to life around Vincent, as if the very land itself had chosen to fight beside him. He stood tall amidst the chaos, unshaken, while the king realized, too late, that he had underestimated his enemy.


    This was no ordinary battle. Vincent wasn''t fighting for victory. He was fighting for survival¡ªhis and mine. And as the trees bowed to his will, the storm that once belonged to the king was no longer in his favor.


    "Begin!" the king shouted, his voice cutting through the storm. The two rune holders in the sky began to move, their figures barely visible in the swirling mist. But before they could even launch their attack, Vincent acted.


    With a swift motion of his hand, razor-sharp leaves shot through the air, brushing past their necks with deadly precision. Blood sprayed as the two fell to the ground, their throats cut clean by the leaves'' edges. They hit the earth hard, gasping for breath, but before they could recover, thick vines erupted from the soil, coiling around their bodies like snakes. The vines tightened, pinning them to the ground, preventing them from healing or retaliating.


    The king''s face twisted with fury as he realized the futility of his earlier arrogance. "Attack!" he screamed, commanding his army to charge.


    But against a rune holder like Vincent, a human army was nothing more than lambs to the slaughter.


    Vincent raised his arms, and the forest obeyed. The trees shuddered, their branches extending unnaturally, bending towards the soldiers as though eager to join the battle. Leaves, sharp as daggers, flew through the air in every direction, slicing through armor, flesh, and bone with ease. The soldiers barely had time to react. Screams echoed as men fell, clutching at wounds that appeared before they even understood what had happened.


    Vines slithered across the ground, wrapping around the legs of those attempting to flee. They pulled the soldiers down, dragging them into the dirt as the earth itself seemed to swallow them whole. Thorned roots erupted from the soil, impaling anyone who dared come too close to Vincent. The forest, once peaceful and serene, had become a living weapon, an extension of his will.


    Blood sprayed in the air, mixing with the rain, painting the land red. Bodies fell one after another, lifeless, as Vincent orchestrated the massacre with an eerie calm. The soldiers'' swords and spears were useless. The forest was relentless. Each swipe of Vincent''s hand sent waves of leaves and thorns cutting through the masses, leaving no survivors in their wake.


    Soon, the battlefield was covered in corpses. Blood pooled in the mud, soaking into the earth, staining it crimson. The once-proud army of the king was nothing more than a sea of fallen bodies. Vincent stood atop the mound of death, his figure drenched in both rain and the blood of his enemies. His earlier anxiety and sweat had vanished, replaced by an air of unwavering confidence.


    In the distance, the man holding Riptide shook as he watched the devastation unfold. His face paled, and his hands trembled as he realized the power Vincent wielded was beyond anything they had imagined. With a flick of Vincent''s hand, a sharp leaf darted through the air and sliced clean across the man''s throat.


    He fell to his knees, his hand clutching at the wound as blood poured from his neck. He collapsed into a growing puddle of rainwater and blood, the light fading from his eyes as he crumpled to the ground.


    The battlefield was silent, save for the rain falling softly upon the lifeless bodies. The ground had become a gruesome canvas, painted in red, the air thick with the scent of death. Vincent stood in the center of it all, his face grim and his gaze fixed on the fallen man with Riptide.


    "Damn," I muttered, still stunned by the sheer brutality of the massacre. "That was easy. Why were you so nervous if you were this strong?"


    Vincent didn''t answer right away. His eyes, cold and distant, remained locked on the corpse of the man he had just killed. Something was wrong. His expression darkened, a shadow of doubt crossing his face.


    "It isn''t him," he said quietly, almost to himself.


    I blinked, confused. "Huh?"


    Vincent turned to face me, his voice low and filled with dread. "That isn''t King Martin II."


    My heart skipped a beat. "What... what do you mean?"


    The sound of clapping echoed through the forest, sharp and deliberate. It sent a chill down my spine as if the storm itself had fallen silent to give way to this new, ominous presence. Emerging from the mist was a man¡ªa figure strikingly similar to the fake king who lay dead at Vincent''s feet. But this man was taller, more handsome, and far more imposing. His features were sharper, his frame more muscular, and the air around him seemed to pulse with raw, suffocating power.


    He bent down beside the corpse of the false king, his movements calm and methodical. Without a word, he snatched the ring from the dead man''s hand and slipped it onto his left thumb. The simple gesture felt like a declaration, a silent reminder of who truly held power here.


    Vincent''s voice trembled as he spoke, his body visibly shaking despite his earlier show of strength. "Are you the king?"


    The man didn''t answer. He only stared at us, his gaze cold and distant, yet the pressure in the air intensified. It was as if the very forest was bending under his presence, the weight of it crushing down on us. I could feel it in my chest, the oppressive force making it hard to breathe.


    Vincent turned to me, his face pale. His hands gripped my shoulders tightly, desperation flashing in his eyes. "You''ve seen enough, boy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Advance to the next level."


    "What?" I stammered, confusion swirling in my mind. "What do you mean? Why are you¡ª"


    Vincent''s grip tightened. "If you wish not to ruin everything I''ve done for you until now, please¡­ ascend to the next level. Don''t make me say it again. Please." His voice cracked, and I could see it¡ªhis fear. The old man, who had stood so confident and strong before, now looked as if he was barely holding it together.


    I was shaken to my core. Was the man with the ring really that powerful? Powerful enough to make Vincent, who had just massacred an army, beg?


    "You''re being here will only cause me trouble," Vincent finally admitted, his voice harsh but pained. "I can''t fight while protecting you. If I''m to survive this, I need to give it everything I''ve got. Please, go."


    I had no choice. My heart pounded in my chest as I nodded. "Promise me¡­ promise me you won''t die. You''ll find me after this, right? I''ll be waiting for you, old man. Don''t you dare die on me."


    Vincent didn''t reply immediately. Instead, he smiled¡ªa sad, tired smile. "Our opponent is merciful enough to let us have this small talk. Now go, before he loses his patience."


    I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight by his side, to protect him as he had protected me. But I knew¡­ deep down, I knew I''d only be a burden. So, I nodded once more, my throat tight with emotion.


    Vincent turned away from me, his focus now fully on the man with the ring. As he prepared for the inevitable battle, something strange began to happen. The Thornveil¡ªthe green glow that had enveloped Vincent and filled the air with swirling leaves¡ªbegan to disintegrate. The leaves slowly faded into fine particles, dissolving into the mist.


    "What''s happening?" I asked the messenger beside me, panic rising.


    "It''s the dispersing of the essence of the rune," the messenger explained. "As you use your powers¡ªattacking, defending, recovering¡ªthe essence within the rune depletes. When a rune fully disintegrates, the user loses consciousness."


    I stared in shock, watching the Thornveil crumble away. "But¡­ Riptide isn''t fading at all," I murmured, my voice shaky. "Does that mean¡ª"


    "Go!" Vincent''s shout broke through my thoughts, his voice full of urgency.


    Tears welled in my eyes for the first time in what felt like years. I couldn''t hold them back. "Proceed," I whispered, my heart breaking. And just like that, my mind went blank.


    The last thing I saw before everything turned to darkness was Vincent charging at the true king, his face set in grim determination, while the king stood there, laughing mockingly.

 Raining Blood

    I rushed toward the man I believed to be the true king. The storm raged around us, winds howling through the air like the cries of a dying beast, rain lashing at my face with the fury of a thousand daggers. Yet, in the center of this chaos, he stood still¡ªcalm, unmoved, as though the elements bent to his will. The weight of his presence alone made the air thick, suffocating. The Riptide essence clung to him, an untouched force, as if he hadn''t even begun to call upon its full power.


    Thornveil pulsed within me. 80% of my essence still remained, but I could feel its pull, the energy draining with every breath. I was running out of time. He wasn''t. The king barely moved, his eyes glinting with cold amusement, as if the battle unfolding before him was a trivial matter, a passing distraction.


    The false King hadn''t even summoned water from his rune¡ªjust manipulated the rain and storm around us like a puppet master. But now, I could feel it. The man before me was ready to unleash more.


    The rain intensified. It wasn''t just droplets anymore; it was a torrent. Each drop became a spear, driving into the ground with unnatural force, the water swirling and moving with purpose, directed by the king''s will. The storm was his weapon, his offensive. And I was in its path.


    I stole one last glance behind me¡ªthe boy was gone. Relief surged through me. He''d escaped to the next level, safe from this madness. Good. My focus snapped back to the king. He was waiting for me to make my move, confident, that same mocking smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The distance between us was less than ten meters now. My heart hammered against my ribs, blood roaring in my ears, but I couldn''t let it distract me.


    I thrust my hand forward, summoning the power of Thornveil. A thick, jagged gauntlet of wood grew around my arm, its bark reinforced, hard as iron and sharper than any blade. This was no ordinary wood¡ªinfused with essence, it was stronger than steel, designed to pierce through even the toughest armor. I aimed for his chest, intending to end this with a single blow.


    But just as I moved, the king lifted his hand with the ease of someone waving away a bothersome fly. The rain obeyed, surging forward and forming a thick wall of water reinforced with the Riptide''s essence in front of me. It wasn''t just liquid¡ªit was dense, heavy, like a wall of liquid iron. My hand struck it, and though I pierced through the surface, it was like trying to punch through a solid block of cement. The force of my strike dispersed into the water, slowed to a crawl.


    I pulled my hand back, abandoning the wood reinforcement. My eyes darted to the king, but he was already on the move, dashing to the side, his body a blur as he flowed through the storm. I summoned vines from the ground, thick tendrils lashing toward him, but he moved like water¡ªslipping through, breaking the vines with effortless strength.


    I spun, trying to catch him off guard with a kick aimed at his head. But his hand shot out, grabbing my leg with a grip like steel. I was trapped. I summoned leaves to blind him, but he flicked them aside with a mere twist of his wrist. Then, without even a hint of strain, he hurled me across the forest.


    My back slammed into a jagged rock with bone-crushing force. Pain exploded through my body, my ribs screaming in protest as I hit the ground. The wind was knocked out of me, my vision blurred with the force of impact. I could feel something broken, something torn. But I had no time for pain. I had to fight. I couldn''t afford to let up.


    Thornveil surged within me, mending the wounds as best it could. I still had 70% of my essence left. I could keep going. The king approached slowly, his movements deliberate, as if savoring my struggle.


    I forced myself to stand, summoning thick roots from the earth. They shot toward him, thorny and reinforced, coiling around his legs. But with a single motion, a torrent of rain blasted outward, shredding the roots as if they were made of paper. The storm raged harder now, the rain whipping into a frenzy. The king wasn''t holding back anymore¡ªhe was using the storm as his weapon, each drop of rain an extension of his will.


    I watched as the king stood atop the withered remnants of dead branches and roots. His rune remained intact, unblemished, without a hint of disintegration. If my understanding was correct, he wielded the World Element. The strongest elemental user of a realm can bend their element as though it were an extension of their will, and as the supreme water wielder of this world, the king commanded the rain and rivers effortlessly. He wasn''t draining his essence at all; he was drawing upon the natural water around us, conserving his power while I expended mine.


    "Am I the strongest wood rune holder?" I questioned, the thought gnawing at my mind.


    "Yes," came the messenger''s voice inside my head.


    Yet even with that truth, the reality was stark: I was the strongest wood rune bearer, I wield a World Element too, but the forest around us offered me little offensive advantage. My element flourished in growth and defense, but here, amidst the king''s domain, it felt¡­ insufficient. Should I retreat? Escape into the next level while I still could?


    A warmth suddenly pulsed in my chest. I glanced down at my rune, glowing softly, but the lower quarter of it had already disintegrated from my reckless use of essence. The thought of running vanished. There was no escape now. I had to see this through.


    The king remained across the battlefield, unmoving. He hadn''t taken a single step toward me, his expression slowly growing bored, as if the game wasn''t worth his time anymore. I stood up, brushing the dirt from my clothes. With a sharp leaf summoned from my essence, I trimmed my ragged beard and hair, preparing myself for whatever came next. The king smiled, amused by the gesture, his eyes glinting as if entertained by my futile preparation. He knew, just as I did, that until I could disrupt his command over the rain, he would conserve his essence, saving it for healing and regeneration.


    I had no choice. I needed to force his hand.


    "Let''s get this over with," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for him to hear. His eyes flicked to mine, but he remained still, waiting. I raised my hand, forming the gesture of a gun, and aimed directly at his face. Thornveil responded instantly, summoning a massive thorn from thin air, its sharp edge gleaming in the storm''s dim light. I braced my other hand to manage the recoil. The plan was simple: the rain couldn''t stop a projectile of this size. He''d either dodge, or he''d be forced to summon his rune to create a water wall, like before.


    I fired.


    The thorn tore through the air, its speed slicing through the rain as if the storm itself parted to let it through. The king attempted to manipulate the rain, shooting streams of water toward the thorn to stop its momentum, but it was too large, too powerful. He sidestepped, dodging just as I expected.


    "You fell for it."


    As he shifted, I summoned thick vines from beneath the earth, forming a dense barrier around him. His path of escape was blocked¡ªhis only options now were to summon his water to shield himself or retreat. Either way, I had him cornered.


    Without hesitation, I created a second massive thorn, this time aimed to break through any defense he could muster. But my real intent lay elsewhere. While he focused on defending, I rushed forward, summoning a spear of reinforced wood in my hand. Each step brought me closer, my essence surging as Thornveil enveloped me, shielding me from the slashing rain. The storm''s force was relentless, but the trees and leaves blocked the worst of it. Any small wounds I suffered healed almost instantly, thanks to Thornveil''s regenerative power.


    I could feel my essence depleting rapidly, but I had no choice. If I could land this strike, it would be worth the cost.


    The king''s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. But it was too late. I was already in front of him.


    "Yo!" I smirked, driving the spear straight toward his chest.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    He reacted swiftly, catching the spear with his left hand. The tip pierced his flesh, but his grip was iron, holding the weapon in place. I saw blood, but before I could capitalize, he swung his right hand at me, his fist aiming for my face. I released the spear, catching his arm with both of mine, locking him in place. His power was immense; I could feel the raw strength in his muscles, but in that moment, I had leverage.


    With his hands occupied, I struck him in the gut with my knee, aiming to drive the wind from his lungs. But instead of flesh, I felt resistance. A wall of water. He had finally used his essence.


    He was no longer relying on the natural rain¡ªhe had called upon his essence, and now the real battle would begin.


    But I had achieved my goal. I had forced him to use his essence.


    The instant I felt the watery resistance against my knee, I knew. He was finally tapping into his essence. The king''s advantage¡ªhis ability to manipulate the rain without draining his rune¡ªwas slipping away, and with it, his smug composure.


    His left hand was still locked onto the spear, blood dripping down its length, but the water wall pulsed in defense, preventing me from landing another blow. I pushed back, using the momentary pause to regain my stance, watching the king''s eyes darken. His arrogance was shifting to something more dangerous¡ªfocus.


    He shoved me backward with a powerful swing, and I stumbled, barely managing to stay on my feet as he summoned the rain with a flick of his wrist. It responded instantly, swirling around him in tendrils, like a serpent coiling to strike. His aura darkened with the weight of the water rune''s power, and I knew I had only moments before he unleashed its full fury.


    I clenched my fists, summoning the last reserves of my essence to harden the wood around my arms. Thornveil encased them like barked armor, sturdy, but not invincible. I was running out of time, and more importantly, out of essence.


    "Come, then," I spat, wiping the rain from my brow. "Let''s see if the king of water can drown me."


    The king smiled, and it was cold¡ªcalculated. With a sweep of his hand, he directed the rain toward me, the droplets sharp as blades. I deflected them with the reinforced wood, but the sheer force of the water battered my defenses. A stream caught my side, slicing through my arm, and I hissed as the pain surged through me.


    But I couldn''t slow down. I had to push him, drain him, force him to make a mistake.


    I surged forward, closing the gap between us. Every step felt heavier than the last as the rain thickened, turning the battlefield into a deluge. The water wasn''t just attacking¡ªit was suffocating, choking the air from my lungs. The king''s mastery of the element was terrifying in its precision, every movement calculated to overwhelm me.


    I spun low, avoiding another torrent, and thrust my hand out, summoning roots from beneath the soaked ground. They shot upward, tangling around his legs, but the king shattered them with a burst of water, turning them to splinters. He stepped toward me with that same mocking smile.


    "You can''t win," he finally said, his voice almost drowned out by the rain. "The world bends to my will. You''re just a traveler here, a fleeting presence."


    I gritted my teeth and summoned the last of my energy, crafting another massive thorn. It took shape in the air, larger than before, its sharp edges gleaming through the downpour. I aimed directly at his chest and fired, the thorn tearing through the storm like a spear.


    This time, the king didn''t dodge.


    Instead, he extended his hand, summoning a wall of water infused with his essence. The thorn crashed against it, splintering into nothingness. I cursed under my breath. He was forcing me to exhaust myself, waiting for the moment I would falter.


    And then, as if reading my thoughts, he acted.


    With a single motion, the king commanded the rain to part, and for a brief moment, the storm became still around us. He moved faster than I could react, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. His hand shot out, and before I could raise a defense, his fingers curled around my throat, lifting me off the ground as if I weighed nothing.


    I struggled, kicking, summoning vines to strike him, but they were weak, flimsy. My essence was nearly gone. The air left my lungs in ragged gasps as his grip tightened, his face inches from mine. Cold eyes, devoid of pity, bore into me.


    "I''ve had enough of this," he whispered, and with his free hand, he formed a blade of water, its edge shimmering with deadly intent.


    I could feel my strength draining, the last reserves of Thornveil slipping away. The king raised the blade, aiming it directly at my heart.


    "This is where it ends," he murmured, his voice filled with quiet finality.


    He thrust the blade forward, its sharp edge cutting through the rain as it hurtled toward my chest. I braced for the impact, my body frozen in his grasp.


    But then, something strange happened.


    The rain¡­ stilled.


    The blade, poised to pierce my heart, hovered in mid-air, suspended between us. The droplets around us stopped their descent, hanging in the air like fragile glass. The king''s expression shifted, confusion flashing across his face. He glanced at the rain, his hand still outstretched, but it refused to respond.


    I saw it then¡ªthe subtle tremor in his fingers, the uncertainty in his eyes. The king, for all his power, had lost control. The rain, which had obeyed his every command, now resisted him.


    "What¡­?" he muttered, his grip on my throat loosening.


    The stillness of the storm was absolute.


    From the mist and the shadows of the trees, a figure emerged¡ªslow, deliberate. At first glance, he appeared no more than a boy, about the same age as Eldric. His clothes were tattered, smeared with streaks of blood and grime, blending him into the forest''s somber hues. His face was dirty, a mixture of dried blood and earth clinging to his features, but beneath it, his expression was one of complete disinterest, as if he had simply wandered into something insignificant.


    The king''s eyes narrowed, confusion flickering in his gaze. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice strained from the rain-soaked battle.


    The boy blinked, his eyebrows twitching in mild amusement. "I didn''t expect to find two dudes fighting in the middle of a forest," he said, his tone almost playful.


    The king''s grip on me slackened, and in that instant, he turned his focus toward this newcomer, summoning the rain to attack. But then something unexpected¡ªsomething impossible¡ªhappened.


    The rain, which had once been the king''s weapon, turned against him. In an instant, the droplets froze, then hurled themselves at him with terrifying speed. A spear of water shot through the king''s back, piercing clean through his chest. His body convulsed as blood sprayed from his mouth, the liquid mixing with the rain in a sickening crimson wash.


    I stood there, utterly flabbergasted. The ability to command the rain, to wield the water of the world itself¡ªonly the strongest water rune wielder could bend it to their will. But if this boy could do it¡­ that meant¡­


    The realization struck me hard.


    "Whaaaat?" the King shrieked, his voice laced with surprise. The boy looked over at me, unbothered by the gruesome sight before him. "Hey, gramps, is this the bad guy?"


    I was too stunned to answer at first, but the opportunity for survival tugged at me. If there was a way out of this, a way to end the king, I had to take it. My rune was already 85% disintegrated. There was no room for hesitation now.


    "Yes," I rasped, the word barely escaping my lips.


    The boy seemed to assess my response with an indifferent glance, as though weighing his options. "Fine," he said, nonchalant, "I don''t really care who the good guy is. I could take both of you out if I wanted, but since you''re already beaten and your rune''s almost gone, I guess I''ll spare you."


    Spare me? I couldn''t tell if he was arrogant or genuinely that powerful. But the king¡ªhe was the stronger of us, and if this boy could tear through him so easily¡­


    The king, struggling to his feet, was already trying to heal himself, weaving the rain into his essence for regeneration. But the boy raised his hand again, and with a flick of his wrist, the rain answered his call.


    A tidal force gathered above the king, and in one brutal motion, it slammed down onto him like a hammer. The king conjured water walls in desperate defense, the liquid spiraling around him, but the boy''s control over the rain was absolute. There was no mercy in the way the torrents lashed at the king''s body, thrashing him with relentless fury. His attempts to escape were futile, the flood of water trapping him like prey caught in a web.


    For the first time, I could see it¡ªthe king''s rune was beginning to disintegrate, piece by piece, unraveling under the strain of his rapidly depleting essence. He was healing, regenerating, trying to escape the rain''s barrage, but it was clear he couldn''t last much longer.


    I raised my hand, feeling the weight of my own essence dwindling. I couldn''t let him escape. Not now.


    With the last of my strength, I summoned a massive thorn, far larger than any I had created before. It took all my remaining essence, draining the very core of my power, but it was necessary. The king didn''t look back, his face obscured by the rain and blood. In the midst of the storm, I couldn''t tell if he was crying or simply resigned to his fate.


    I didn''t care.


    With one final surge, I launched the thorn. It hurtled through the air, cutting through the rain, and impaled the king''s skull. The impact was sickening. Blood splattered in all directions, and the king''s body convulsed once before crumpling to the ground, lifeless. The thorn had shattered his head, reducing it to little more than a bloody pulp. Flesh, bone, and rain mixed in a grotesque display as his body collapsed, the once-mighty ruler reduced to nothing but a corpse.


    His rune, the once-glorious Riptide, flickered for a moment before it, too, dissolved into nothingness, disintegrating fully. The storm quieted, the water no longer obeying his will. The King of the Kingdom was dead.


    I stood there, breathing heavily, my chest aching from the effort, my essence all but gone. And then I turned toward the boy¡ªthis stranger, this enigma who had wielded the rain like it was second nature. His hands were tucked casually into his pockets, his face unreadable.


    "Who are you?" I asked, my voice hoarse from the battle.


    The boy seemed to think for a moment, his expression distant, as if trying to remember something long forgotten. "Since no one from my old world is here, I suppose my name doesn''t matter much," he said, his tone casual. He looked me in the eyes. "Call me Dan."

 One Who Decides Fate

    Suspended in the abyss, I floated in a void that felt all too familiar. It was like the one after I died in my previous life¡ªa place where existence seemed to stop, a place devoid of sensation, time, and meaning. In that endless blackness, thoughts began to swirl. Was I going to meet that giant shadow again? The entity that greeted me when I last stood at the edge of death? Its looming presence had left a mark on me, but now... it felt irrelevant. Something had shifted. My thoughts didn''t linger there. Instead, I found myself drawn to something else¡ªsomeone else.


    Mister Vincent. His face emerged from the void. An old man I barely knew for three days in that accursed level, and yet... I found myself hoping he survived. That he managed to cling to life despite everything. The weight of that concern surprised me. Vincent¡ªa stranger, a flicker of kindness in this vast, cruel universe. I cared about him more than the seven I had left behind in the forest. Their faces came to mind, blurred, distant. I didn''t feel any guilt about abandoning them. No heavy conscience, no pang of remorse. But Daniel¡­ a thought crossed my mind. Maybe I should''ve thanked him. That small act¡ªjust a word or two before I left. That, at least, stung a little.


    Funny, isn''t it? How someone I''d known for mere days¡ªVincent, a weathered old man¡ªhad shown me more care than anyone ever had. More than the people I left behind in my previous life. More than the so-called friends, or even family, who had passed in and out of my existence like drifting shadows. And now, in this endless void, I found myself alone again, yet his face clung to me. "Hey, messenger. Where am I right now?" I asked into the abyss, the silence suffocating. No response came, not that I truly expected one.


    I gazed into the unseen, the void stretching in all directions, timeless and infinite. How long would I be suspended here? How long would this nothingness stretch on? My sense of time was already slipping, and in the distance¡ªif there even was such a thing as distance in this place¡ªI saw nothing. Nothing but endless black.


    And then, out of nowhere, a flicker¡ªa glimmer of green¡ªpierced through the darkness. It was faint at first, almost imperceptible, but my senses, dulled by the abyss, snapped to attention. A light. A green light. Instinctively, I propelled toward it, my body moving through the void as though I still had mass, still had substance. It wasn''t much¡ªjust a glimmer¡ªbut it was something.


    As I drew closer, the green light grew sharper, more defined. There, amidst the darkness, was a crack¡ªa literal tear in the fabric of this reality. The light spilled out from it, casting eerie shadows that danced across the void. It was strange, seeing a crack in the middle of nowhere, a breach in what should have been impenetrable. And yet, there it was, beckoning me closer. I didn''t hesitate. I propelled toward it, pushing my way into the breach, into the light.


    The crack opened into something tangible¡ªa cave. Jagged walls of stone materialized around me as I stumbled through the breach, the green light now flooding the space ahead. The air felt dense, thick with a strange stillness that pressed in on me from all sides.


    I wouldn''t have cared to explore it, wouldn''t have minded drifting in that abyss for a little longer, but my rune¡ªit wasn''t in my pocket. The cave was dead, devoid of life. No insects crawled along its walls, no plants clung to the rocks¡ªnothing.


    The tunnel ended in a wide chamber, illuminated by the source of the green light. In the center, against a dead-end wall, there was a massive bubble of light. Inside it was¡ªwhat? My breath caught as I took in the sight before me.


    It was a woman. She looked young, perhaps in her early twenties, but in this game¡ªor whatever this was¡ªage was just another illusion. For all I knew, she could be a demon as old as the stars. The source of the green light was her, and she was smiling. Her eyes, brilliant emeralds, shimmered with an otherworldly glow, matching the light that bathed the room.


    Her beauty was ethereal, almost unreal. Her long, flowing hair cascaded down her back, a deep, verdant green that seemed to ripple like a forest canopy in a breeze. Her arms were slender, graceful, as if crafted from the finest marble, and her skin was flawless¡ªsmooth and pale, glowing faintly in the soft light. She wore a green garment, fitted closely to her lithe form, intricately woven like living vines wrapped around her body. The fabric shimmered, almost blending into the light that surrounded her, like she was one with the cave itself.


    Though she smiled, it wasn''t at me. Her attention was entirely fixed on my rune, held delicately between her long, slender fingers, examining it closely as if it was some rare treasure.


    I stared at her, my gaze fixed, unblinking. Her beauty, though undeniable, wouldn''t sway me. I wasn''t so easily fooled. "That''s mine," I said, my voice steady as I pointed toward the rune. She turned to look at me, as if I had only just appeared, her expression calm, unaffected. Her fingers released the rune, and yet it didn''t fall. Instead, it hovered, suspended in mid-air like it was bound to the very fabric of this strange space.


    "Who are you, miss?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral. She didn''t respond. Her lips remained sealed, her emerald eyes locked on me but revealing nothing. Then, before she could speak, the messenger''s voice sliced through the silence.


    A shrill, mechanical voice that was neither man nor woman''s spoke, [She is the 7th bearer of the Supreme Conqueror title.]


    Supreme Conqueror? I thought, my brow furrowing. Some title, apparently, though it meant nothing to me. "Are you a player?" I asked, hoping for a more direct answer.


    [Yes,] the messenger replied in that same hollow tone. [She is one of the twelve who have conquered fifteen levels from each pillar of the game.]


    Fifteen levels from each pillar¡­ I had no idea what that meant, no frame of reference. The game still felt like a mystery, an elaborate construct with its own rules and titles that were far beyond anything I understood. But even so, the words didn''t impress me.


    "So, anyway, that rune is mine. If you could return it, please," I stated, extending my hand as if the conversation had reached its natural end.


    [She is quite interested in this rune. She believes it is the key to the game,] the messenger interjected.


    I felt a smirk form on my face. "I knew my rune was special. No need to state the obvious. And, by the way, is there a way to mute you, messenger?" My tone dripped with sarcasm as I shifted my gaze back to the woman. She was still smiling, though there was something in that smile now¡ªsomething that edged toward amusement.


    "I don''t know why the messenger''s talking for you," I continued, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Maybe you have some kind of ability or skill to control it, manipulate it somehow." I leaned in just a little, studying her face for a reaction. "Or maybe," I added with a smirk, "perhaps you are the messenger."


    For the briefest of moments, her eyebrow twitched, almost imperceptibly. But it was enough. I had hit a nerve.


    "Guess I''m right," I said, the satisfaction creeping into my voice. "Well then, messenger, I don''t particularly care why you''re trapped in this bubble, in this hidden cave, or what your grand plans are. But if you would kindly return my rune." I extended my hand again, more deliberate this time, holding her gaze. Her eyes gleamed with something¡ªa flicker of amusement, maybe even respect.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "This rune," the messenger''s voice began to shift, the mechanical tone dissolving into a soft, feminine one, [doesn''t belong to you.]


    "Huh?" I blurted, caught off guard by the sudden change.


    [You are not the rightful owner of this rune,] she continued, her voice calm but certain. [But for some reason¡­ this rune¡­ chose you.]


    I stood there, staring at her, the words settling over me like a shroud. Chose me? What the hell did that even mean? I wasn''t sure, but something in her tone gnawed at the edges of my mind, and uneasiness began to creep in, like a chill running down my spine. I had an instinctive feeling, something deeper than thought, that perhaps this rune was never meant to be mine.


    [Despite that fact,] she pressed on, [this rune seems to have chosen you.]


    My body tensed, and my eye twitched, impatient for her to finish. Her lips remained sealed, but the voice¡ªthe messenger''s voice, now fully hers¡ªechoed in my head.


    [Or perhaps¡­ it is not you who was chosen. Perhaps it was someone else, in that tiny little body.]


    Goosebumps rippled across my skin. My breath caught in my throat as the shadows of an old memory stirred. The voice of the giant shadow echoed in my mind, as clear as if it had just spoken:


    "The second option is to use the remaining power I have left for the moment to reincarnate your soul into a new body, merging it with a few other souls. This would entangle your fate with a new reality¡ªone that holds horrors beyond your imagination and difficulties you cannot begin to fathom. It will be a harsh and challenging existence, but it will also offer the possibility of a remarkable destiny."


    Her eyelids lowered slightly, her expression unreadable, but then it hit me¡ªshe could read my thoughts. A curse slipped past my lips, too low to hear. This wasn''t just some mind game.


    [Who was that?] she asked, her tone shifting into something more intrigued, more sly. [I don''t remember the voice. Is that the ''shadow'' you keep talking about?] Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, that same smile playing at the corners of her lips. [Merging with other souls? That might not be surprising if this were part of the game, but it''s not. You''ve barely entered the game, and someone with that kind of power over souls has no place in these early stages.]


    I clenched my fists. "Yet here you are¡ªSupreme Conqueror," I spat, "trapped in a damn cave, forced to play the role of a messenger. And you''re interested in a boy who''s barely entered level one."


    [Boy, watch your mouth,] her voice sharpened, a subtle edge creeping into it. [Though I may be trapped here, this is a very different case¡ªand an extreme one at its best. No higher-level player can visit the bottom five levels¡ªlet alone level 0.]


    Her words dripped with a mixture of warning and superiority. It didn''t sit well with me, but the more she spoke, the more I understood. Whoever she was, whatever power she had once wielded, she wasn''t here by choice. This "messenger" wasn''t some willing role¡ªshe was as bound to this place as I was, perhaps more so. But that didn''t change the fact that my rune was still floating there, hanging in the balance. The question gnawed at me¡ªwhat was I really dealing with here?


    "Well, since that rune belongs to my body anyway, can I get it back?" I asked, trying to keep my tone even. "Please?" I added, attempting a polite edge.


    There was no response at first. Her gaze shifted lazily toward the rune, her expression unreadable.


    [Oh, this rune belongs to your body, alright,] she finally said, her voice low, as if she was humoring me. [But I don''t think you''re worthy enough to wield it. Unlike other runes, you cannot summon it back¡ªbecause it''s not truly yours.]


    Her fingers played idly with the floating rune, her head balanced on her hand, as if considering something far more important than me. [Perhaps I will keep it until its rightful owner appears,] she mused, her tone casual, but with an edge of finality.


    "Or perhaps I will have it until the rightful owner appears," I shot back, trying to match her calm. I wasn''t about to let her have the last word, especially when I needed that rune. It wasn''t just an accessory; it was part of me now.


    She smirked, amused by my persistence. [You don''t understand the seriousness of this, boy,] she said, her voice firming. [This rune can potentially change fate¡ªwhen in the right hands, of course. I can see a glimpse of the future, even though my powers are sealed, and what I see is someone wielding this rune. Someone who isn''t you.]


    Frustration welled within me, a dark tide threatening to drown my resolve. My mind raced. If there was any chance of reclaiming my rune, it had to be through a trade¡ªa bargain that would tip the scales in my favor. "I will free you from this seal if you return the rune," I proposed, my voice steady as I held her gaze.


    Her smile widened, shifting from mere amusement to something more sinister, as if my offer had sparked a flicker of intrigue within her. [Free me from this seal? Who? You? Who has barely passed level 0? You''re going to free me? Oh, don''t make me laugh. If you''re going to bluff, at least make it believable.]


    "If I don''t get that rune back, I''ll be stuck here without any means to progress to the next level," I countered, a hint of desperation creeping into my tone.


    [Oh? So what? You can be stuck here for all eternity for all I care.]


    Her disdain cut deeper than I anticipated, fueling my anger. This witch, with her enchanting appearance and cold demeanor, was testing my limits. "I''m serious. I''ll find a way to free you from this seal, even if it costs me my life."


    [All means necessary, huh? Well then, let''s make a deal. I''ll give you this rune, and you can progress to the next level, but there''s one condition.]


    I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, wariness blooming within me. "What''s the condition?"


    Her expression morphed into a sly grin, as if she had been waiting for this moment. [If you die before freeing me from this seal, you will transfer the full ownership of the rune to me.]


    The implications of her words hung heavy in the air, a bitter taste forming in my mouth. The bargain was dangerous, yet tempting¡ªespecially since the rune would be of no use to me if I were dead. "How do I formalize this? Is there a contract?"


    [Oh yes,] she said with an unsettling glee. With a wave of her hand, an image materialized in my mind, a contract shimmering with ethereal energy.


    Contract of Rune Ownership Transfer


    Parties Involved:


    Ryan


    (hereafter referred to as "the Bearer")


    Identification: Rune Bearer, Level 0 Player


    Lisa Ember


    (hereafter referred to as "the Benefactor")


    Address: [Location Unknown]


    Identification: The Seventh Bearer of the Supreme Conqueror Title


    Purpose:


    This contract formalizes the agreement between the Bearer and the Benefactor regarding the ownership and control of the Rune known as [...], which possesses significant power and the potential to alter the fabric of fate.


    Terms of Agreement:


    Ownership Transfer:


    The Bearer hereby agrees to transfer full ownership of the Rune to the Benefactor under the condition outlined herein.


    Condition of Transfer:


    The transfer of ownership will occur upon the following events:


    Should the Bearer perish before successfully freeing the Benefactor from her current seal, the ownership of the Rune will automatically and irrevocably pass to the Benefactor. The Bearer acknowledges that the Rune does not belong to him, but rather has chosen him for reasons unknown.


    Limitations and Warnings:


    The Bearer understands that, until such a time as he fulfills the condition of freeing the Benefactor, he shall not wield the full power of the Rune, and its potential may be compromised. The Bearer acknowledges the gravity of this contract, recognizing that the power of the Rune can significantly affect both his fate and that of the Benefactor.


    Binding Nature of the Contract:


    This contract is binding and enforceable in all realms and dimensions within the parameters of the game and beyond. The Bearer waives any right to contest the terms or conditions of this contract once agreed upon.


    Signature and Acceptance:


    By signing this contract, the Bearer affirms his understanding and acceptance of the terms outlined above.


    Signed:


    Ryan


    Bearer of the Rune


    Lisa Ember


    Benefactor


    [All you have to do is agree from the bottom of your heart.]


    I hesitated, my mind racing through the possible consequences. This was no trivial exchange; the weight of my decision pressed down on me like a suffocating shroud. But the urge to reclaim what was mine overpowered my instincts. "I agree!" I spat out, the words igniting a fire within me.


    The moment I uttered those words, a piercing pain shot through my chest, as if my heart had been clamped in a vice.


    [Well then, my dear boy, Lisa can''t wait until you die.] Her smile turned predatory, and as the light around her intensified, I felt myself being pulled into the abyss once more, the weight of my decision bearing down on my soul. Was the contract a wise decision?


    Or a grave mistake.

 Allies

    I fell again. But this time, my senses were not obscured. The darkness around me was not just the absence of light¡ªit was the world itself. A forest, once more. Yet something was off. I couldn''t see the canopy above, no outline of trees against the sky, nor could I hear any of the usual sounds. No birds, no scurrying animals. It was as if life itself had abandoned this place.


    The reason became apparent soon enough. This forest was dead. The trees were mere skeletons, stripped bare with not a single leaf left clinging to their withered branches. The moon was absent, leaving the sky a void, and the air was tinged with the acrid smell of smoke. Beneath me, there was no soil, only coarse sand that stretched across the ground like a blanket of decay.


    The rune wasn''t in my pocket this time. I realized it was wrapped tightly in my hand, my fingers instinctively curling around it as though it held some answer. I sat there, lingering in my thoughts, trying to process what was happening. Nothing seemed different. There was no sudden shift, no update or notification. So this was Level 1. And yet, it felt no different from where I had been before.


    I was skeptical about calling the messenger. Lisa Ember. That was her name. Would she even respond here? I called out anyway, half-expecting silence. My instincts were right¡ªthere was no reply. It confirmed what I already knew: I had made it to Level 1.


    My rune hadn''t changed, still the same dull stone with its curved lightning bolt. But something told me this level would be different. If the old man and the king were the standard here, I would encounter others on their level, if not stronger.


    I stood up, brushing the sand from my cloak, and began to search for higher ground. Just like the last time. A vantage point would help me understand this new terrain, though I could already tell it was hostile. As I moved through the forest, every area seemed to bear the scars of battle. Shattered branches littered the ground, dismembered trees sprawled out like corpses, and massive craters pocked the earth.


    A fight had taken place here. And it wasn''t a small one.


    I ignored the disaster zone and walked on. If I had any solid shot at surviving here, it would be through this rune¡ªwhether it was mine or not. If I couldn''t unlock its secrets, then this place would surely become my grave. I opened my hand while avoiding the craters and broken trees, surprised by the absence of corpses. The notion of players disappearing into pixels upon death felt distant; I saw bones scattered about, remnants of those who had fought before me, their struggles echoing in my mind as I recalled witnessing players dying right before my eyes while battling alongside Vincent.


    The rune lay in my palm, pulsing faintly. "Can you hear me?" I asked, uncertain if the rune could even respond. "I don''t know if you chose me or someone else in my body, but I would be really grateful if you could help me. You''ll have to go to that witch once I die anyway. I hope being with me is better than being in possession of that witch." The rune remained silent.


    As I sighed and closed my palm, a jarring shock shot through my spine, and I fell to my knees, the rune slipping from my grasp. My head bowed as I felt something skim past my hair; an object struck the tree in front of me, exploding it into flames. Before I could react, someone caught my hands, pinning them behind my back and pushing me onto the ground. I surrendered, showing my vulnerability.


    "What the heck was that?" a voice, likely a woman''s, grumbled behind me. "Did you miss your shot, or did this guy just trip over?"


    "Oh, shut up, will you? I was going for the heart; he obviously tripped. What dumb luck." A man stepped closer, retrieving the rune stone from where it had fallen. I chose to remain still, attempting to convey my powerlessness.


    "What the fuck? This thing is barely emitting any aura. Yo, Maki, take a look. Guess this is just a dud." Another voice chimed in¡ªthis one softer, almost gentle, and sounding only a few years older than me.


    "Hm, I can feel its pulse, even if it''s faint. But I don''t think it''s worth anything."


    "How much nyu is it?" the giant who was pinning me down asked. I doubted she was a real giant, but her size and strength were enough to immobilize me completely. The young woman sounded disappointed.


    "It says zero."


    "Oh, come on, man! We didn''t even find a single rune since morning. Are you sure players even come around here? This area doesn''t look fit for battle."


    "What do we do with this boy?"


    "This rune doesn''t look like it belongs to him. I even doubt this guy has any rune; he''s so fucking weak."


    "Maybe he stole this stone, thinking it''s a precious rune or something."


    "So do we kill him or not?"


    "Maybe this guy got scammed, lol."


    They were exchanging words as if I were deaf. Finally, I decided to speak up. "Or maybe that thing really belongs to me, and I''m just a beginner."


    Silence fell over them. I could almost feel their stares, as if they were watching a fish talk.


    "Beginner? Sent to Lugusia Forest? Come on, do you really think we would fall for that?"


    I didn''t reply, but the young woman piped up. "Umm, maybe he''s right. I mean, there aren''t any powerful players around here anymore, so I don''t think a beginner popping up would be a surprise."


    "Even so, aren''t we enemies anyway? If we leave him here, he''ll be killed today or tomorrow. Why not give him a merciful death right here?"Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I refused to hold back any longer. "The rune you''re holding isn''t a dud."


    They fell silent again, but I pressed on. "That''s a dormant rune, one yet to be awakened. Depending on me, it can become the strongest or the weakest."


    "Hm, doesn''t that mean you might become a threat to us in the future? Killing you might be the best course of action."


    Man, I hated this guy. "That would be your loss, because if you spare me and I become strong, I will be your strongest ally."


    "Lol, this guy is desperate."


    "Maybe we should ask Garron about this."


    "Huh? Why should we ask that fool? You''re the leader of the party."


    "Umm, but I''m the weakest, and I guess asking him would be best since he''s the strongest."


    "Tchhh!" They fell into silence for a moment.


    "Fine. How do we take this guy there?"


    "Just bind his hands and ask him to follow; if he claims this rune is so precious, he''ll follow us until he''s with us."


    "What do you say, little man?"


    I agreed, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty.


    "Hey, Zara, do you have any ropes or binding material on you?" the guy asked, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.


    "Nope," she replied, her playful smile unfaltering.


    "What then, Maki?" he turned to the young woman, who had been silently observing the exchange with a bemused expression.


    She didn''t answer, just shot him a grin that seemed to mock his predicament. He sighed dramatically, clearly irritated. "Oh come on! How do we even bind his hands now?" He glanced around the forest, as if hoping some magical solution would materialize from the dying trees. "Maybe we can just break his hands and heal later," he suggested, his grin reappearing.


    "Huh?" Maki''s brow furrowed at the suggestion. "Are you serious?"


    The thought of them actually breaking my hands sent a chill down my spine. Sure, I didn''t have a proper rune yet, but I couldn''t trust these guys. What if they shattered my arms and later discovered no one could heal me? The very notion made me sweat, my heart pounding a little faster as I weighed my options.


    Finally, Zara, the strong woman, broke the tension. "Maybe we can just leave him be. With this dud-ass rune, he can''t do anything to hurt us; he''s no better than a regular human."


    She was right, and while that fact offered some relief, I still felt uneasy. "Well then, be a fool and follow us. Don''t even think about running away, or you''ll end up like that tree," the guy said, gesturing to the burning tree behind us. He had a bow slung across his back, flames still flickering ominously at its tips. I couldn''t see where he kept his rune, and I certainly didn''t dare to search their bodies. For now, it seemed my best option was to follow them to their base.


    I nodded reluctantly, wanting to show compliance. "Well then, let''s return to the base with yet another failed day," he said, disappointment lacing his words.


    I found myself wondering what their base would look like. I half-expected it to be just a cave, a dimly lit hovel hidden among the dying trees. As they began walking through the dead forest, their conversation faded into the background, allowing me to focus on keeping up with them.


    The atmosphere was eerie; the air was thick with an unsettling silence, interrupted only by the crunch of debris beneath our feet. The trees loomed over us like ancient sentinels, their branches twisted and gnarled, creating a haunting canopy overhead. Maki held the rune tightly, a curious light flickering within her grip, and she seemed to command a level of respect despite her self-proclaimed status as the weakest.


    Zara, towering above the rest, walked with a stone club strapped to her back. Her rune glinted in the dim light, a diamond gray in color that shimmered faintly as we moved deeper into the forest. I couldn''t help but wonder how strong Garron, the guy they mentioned, really was. If he surpassed Zara and the guy with the fire arrows, I''d need to tread carefully, for any misstep could be my last.


    As I walked behind them, I weighed my options, mentally preparing myself for whatever lay ahead. I felt like a mouse being led into the lair of a dragon¡ªintimidated yet oddly intrigued. Despite being caught by a party of strangers ready to kill me at a moment''s notice, I couldn''t shake the feeling that I was somewhat lucky. There could have been far more dangerous individuals lurking in the shadows, menacing and devoid of sanity.


    Perhaps, just perhaps, this encounter could lead to something beneficial if I played my cards right. In this chaotic world, where death was as commonplace as the trees that surrounded us, forging alliances might be the key to my survival. As we moved deeper into the heart of the Lugusia forest, the flickering embers of hope ignited in the pit of my stomach, urging me forward.


    As I had expected, the path led to a mountain, as lifeless as the forest surrounding it. Instead of climbing directly, the party ahead chose to navigate around the base of the mountain, a decision that intrigued me. We walked for a bit before they halted near a massive rock, wedged against the mountain''s wall. Zara stepped forward, her imposing figure dwarfing the stone, and with a powerful grunt, she hugged it tightly. With a show of raw strength, she lifted the rock, which was nearly twice her size, and shoved it aside as if it were nothing more than a child''s toy.


    The guy turned to me, a hint of pride in his voice. "Shocked, right? She has some deviant rune that gives her that kind of strength. But aside from that, it''s a complete waste."


    Zara turned her gaze toward him, a fire flickering in her eyes. "Well, you sure have fun sharing our team''s secrets with the unknown boy," she shot back, her tone dripping with playful menace, as if she was ready to drill that information right back into his head.


    "Um, what will this guy even do with that info, anyway?" he protested, a nervous edge in his voice. "Can we go now?"


    With a reluctant nod, Zara acquiesced but gave him a playful smack on the back of the head, a gesture that seemed both affectionate and exasperated. Maki watched the exchange with amusement, her smile a blend of enjoyment and familiarity with the antics.


    Once they moved inside, I followed cautiously, my curiosity piqued. Deviant runes, huh? That hinted at a world of possibilities beyond the elemental ones I had heard of. I couldn''t shake the feeling that there was so much more I needed to learn, especially with the game updates that had escaped me.


    The cave''s darkness enveloped us, with only a few torches flickering along the hallway, casting dancing shadows on the rocky walls. As we ascended the narrow passage, it felt as if we were climbing the mountain from the inside. Despite my rune remaining dormant, I could sense a powerful aura beyond the door that the stairs led to. I had a nagging suspicion that it was Garron on the other side.


    "Well then, little guy, don''t pass out," Zara said with a teasing lilt, swinging the door open with a casual grace.


    Inside, the hall was shrouded in shadows, save for two flickering candles flanking what appeared to be a couch carved from rock. In the dim light, I saw him sitting there, his posture relaxed, head leaned back, almost as if he were asleep. A chill ran down my spine, my instincts kicking in.


    Garron''s rune was prominent, resting at the base of his neck. It was a dark brown stone, jagged and rough, resembling a rock, with copper imprints shimmering against its surface. The rune''s irregular shape and the aura it exuded hinted at a powerful force contained within.


    "We''re back! Can you get up, please? We have a guest," Zara called out, her voice echoing in the stillness, slicing through the tension that filled the room.


    Garron shifted slightly, his eyes opening slowly. The intensity of his gaze caught me off guard, and for a moment, I felt as if he could see right through me, gauging my worth. I held my breath, the atmosphere thick with tension as I stood before him. My life was now in his hands.

 A Twisted World

    The guy just kept staring at me. I stared back, lowering my head slightly to avoid locking eyes completely which could provoke something. The lights flickered to life as the fire guy lit the lamps scattered around the hall. Zara started talking, her voice steady as she explained, "We found him in the forest. Kael missed his shot again, but I pinned him down in time. He says he''s a beginner, tossed into the forest shortly before we caught him. The rune he claims as his own isn''t worth anything. Zero nyu, no aura coming off of it."


    She gave the rundown quickly, not missing a beat. The guy across from me didn''t blink, his eyes still fixed on me like I was something fragile but interesting enough to keep staring at. "He says killing him would be a waste," Zara continued, "blah blah blah. Claims if we let him live and he gets stronger, he could become an ally. It''s your decision."


    "I don''t care," Garron replied almost instantly, brushing the matter off with a dismissive wave. "Do as you please." He lay back down on the stone couch, completely unbothered. His indifference spoke volumes about how much¡ªor how little¡ªI mattered to them.


    I glanced toward the big woman. She was pulling her lips back, as if unsure. Zara turned her gaze to Kael, who was already resting. "Kael, you got anything to say?"


    "Nah, I''m tired. I''ll probably kill him later. I''m going to sleep now."


    Zara sighed, as if this entire situation was an inconvenience more than anything else. "Well, boy, take a seat until the leader comes," she said, motioning to the floor.


    I obeyed, sitting down on the cold stone floor. The hall was circular, and I noticed five stone seats arranged around a round table in the center. Everything here was stone¡ªthe table, the seats, even the ''bed'' Kael was lying on. Garron''s stone couch was off to the side, and nearby was Zara''s section with a chair and a small table with shelves. Each of the five portions of the hall seemed to serve as personal spaces for different members of their group. But there were no doors, no windows, just open spaces dividing the sections.


    The door that led into the hall was directly across from Garron''s space, separating an empty area and what I guessed was maki''s ''room.'' I sat in the corner of that empty space, taking in the crude layout of their home. Everything about it screamed rugged, functional¡ªnothing more. No comfort or luxury, just stone and cold walls.


    "You know," Zara said, her voice less sharp now, "I''m not really interested in hurting you, boy. If you were an adult, that''d be a different story. We wouldn''t have brought you here. We''ve already got two kids in the group¡ªKael and Maki. You get the idea."


    I nodded silently. I didn''t need to respond; she wasn''t expecting me to. I leaned back against the wall, my mind drifting. Maki was apparently not in the hall yet, off doing something below the mountain, and she''d taken my rune with her. I didn''t know what they had down there, but I didn''t plan to stick around long enough to find out.


    Closing my eyes, I let my thoughts wander, searching for a plan, a strategy, anything that could help me build a foundation to survive this new level.


    The first thought that came to mind was that most of the players here were supposed to work in teams or ''parties.'' The seven from my class had also been brought here together as a party. If I were to set seven as the hypothetical maximum number of people summoned together, it didn''t necessarily mean that seven had to be the maximum number in a party. There were five partitions here and only four of them. There could be someone below the mountain with Maki, but I wasn''t sure. One thing, however, was clear¡ªthese guys were not summoned together.


    Zara and Kael were older, and I doubted they had any relation to Garron or Maki. Kael, too, seemed to have some tension with Garron. It was obvious they had been summoned separately and had formed a party later on. The messenger had said we couldn''t survive without a party, so the minimum summon number must be two. That meant the companions with whom they were summoned could be dead. My case was different¡ªafter all, the shadow said I shouldn''t even be here. And to be honest, I wasn''t sure I belonged here. The rune I had probably wasn''t even mine, and without being able to use its power, survival was impossible.


    Several options floated through my mind:


    1. Become a member of this party and rely on them like a parasite.


    2. Leave and find stronger individuals I could trust, then form a party of my own.


    3. Obtain another rune that I could actually use, as the village lady had hinted.


    But the problem was, aside from the first option, the rest seemed far-fetched. The second was unrealistic¡ªno rune holder would want a runeless guy tagging along. The third option sounded possible, but I had no clue where to even begin looking for another rune. So, really, the first option was my only real shot.


    Footsteps echoed from the passage, and I snapped out of my thoughts as the door creaked open. Maki stepped in, scanning the room before spotting Kael asleep and Garron still lounging. Her gaze fell on me, a small smile pulling at her lips as she saw me leaning against the wall. She turned to Zara. "So, I assume he got spared?"


    "Yeah, no one''s really interested in him. I guess we can send him back. You have his rune?" Zara answered nonchalantly.


    Maki turned and tossed my rune at me. I caught it mid-air, turning it over in my hand. The pale yellow stone was as dull as ever. Maki''s voice cut through the quiet. "So, what do you plan on doing with it? I don''t think you can survive a day with that."


    "I don''t know," I admitted. It was the truth¡ªI didn''t have any idea how I''d make it another day with this rune.


    "Well, if you don''t mind... can I stay here for a while? I need to come up with a proper plan before I head back." I finally asked, swallowing a bit of my pride.


    Maki and Zara exchanged glances. After a moment, Maki nodded. "I guess it''s alright since nobody here has any problem with you. You can stay for a bit."


    My eyes flickered toward Kael, who was still sleeping, his face peaceful despite everything that had happened. Zara must have noticed my doubt because she chuckled softly. "Don''t worry about him. He might say he wants to kill you, but he''s just joking. He''s never actually killed anyone since he came to this level."Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    She paused, her gaze drifting to Kael as she continued. "Almost half of his party got killed by beasts back in Level 0. A couple of them decided to go solo. In the end, he was left with just his office coworker. Actually, he mentioned they were all sucked into this game on their first day at work¡ªhim, his manager, and a few other staff. His coworker was the only person he really knew, but he got killed by another party in this level, trying to protect Kael. Since then, Kael''s been convinced that if a party took his only partner, then it''s fair for him to take something from others too. But really, he''s just angry at himself. He doesn''t hold anything against you, especially since you''re just a kid."


    Her smile softened. "Seeing you alone, I''m guessing your party got killed too?" she asked, her tone sympathetic.


    I nodded, though she was wrong. I let her believe it to gain a little more of that sympathy. She sighed. "Sorry for being so hard on you earlier. I didn''t realize you were just a kid. You were tall from behind."


    "Ah, no problem," I shrugged. "At least I didn''t get killed. It''s my fault for being weak."


    Zara stretched, pushing aside her chair and pulling out what looked like a mattress. "Well, guys, I''m heading to sleep." She sprawled on it, quickly finding comfort and drifting off within minutes.


    Now, it was just Maki and me, the silence stretching long. I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting the quiet settle as my mind wandered, trying to piece together a way to make it through tomorrow.


    Their confidence that I wouldn''t attempt to kill them was a stark reminder of their belief in their own superiority. Watching Zara effortlessly shove aside the boulder made it painfully clear that one serious punch from her could spell my end.


    "Are you asleep?" The soft voice of the young girl pierced the darkness, revealing she was awake too.


    "Yes," I replied, my tone low and careful, as if any louder would shatter the fragile calm around us.


    "I don''t mean to offend you, but what made you ascend to this level? If you can''t utilize your rune, it seems more natural to stay on Level 0, where it''s safer. If you just survive the beasts and like find refuge in one of the kingdoms, you could lead a normal life instead of being here, in this hell."


    Her words dripped with an unsettling mix of curiosity and concern. A soft sigh escaped my lips.


    "It''s because I was told to." I revealed.


    She shifted closer, her head peeking around the corner of the bed, barely a meter away. Though it might not seem like it, I am not really good with girls.


    "Told to? By who? Were you forced to ascend?" The curiosity in her eyes glimmered like a blade, sharp and piercing.


    "Yeah, I was forced. By a friend."


    A heavy silence enveloped us, stretching uncomfortably. "Did your friend ask you to leave to protect you?"


    "Yes." Another pause lingered in the air. "Did he survive? And why didn''t he come with you?"


    "Because... he was fighting¡ªnot for me, but for his rune. A fateful battle indeed." I could feel the weight of my own words, the echoes of decisions made in desperation.


    "You seem young but remarkably mature. Did you spend years in Level 0?"


    "No." I managed a smile, finding it funny. "I only stayed for three days."


    "Only three days?" Her shock was evident. "If you don''t mind me asking, how old are you?"


    "17." I replied truthfully. "What about you?"


    "I was 17 when I got here too," she replied, her voice distant. "I''ve been in this level for three years now."


    "Did your party get killed too? By the beasts?"


    She didnt reply.


    I opened my eyes, suspicion gnawing at me. I turned at her. She was looking at me, straight in the eyes. A wild grin, her face illuminated in the dim light, yet there was an unsettling intensity in her gaze.


    Upon closer inspection, I began to glean the nuances of her features. She appeared to be around my age, yet there was an unsettling contrast in her youthful visage and the heavy weight of her experiences. Despite her claims of having lived in this harsh reality for nearly 3 years, her appearance seemed almost untouched by time, as if she had been preserved in a moment that belied the horrors she''d faced.


    Her hair, a glossy shade of black, framed her face in a way that drew attention to her delicate features. It fell just to her shoulders, each strand catching the faint light. Her brown eyes sparkled with an intriguing mixture of mischief and wisdom, as if they held secrets that could never fully escape her lips. They were both inviting and unnerving, drawing me in while simultaneously warning me to tread carefully.


    A small scar adorned the bridge of her nose, a subtle testament to past struggles, adding an edge of vulnerability to her otherwise captivating appearance.


    Her grin, while undeniably charming, held a strange, almost predatory quality. It hinted at a playful spirit, yet beneath it lurked an unsettling darkness. Though she was undeniably cute, my intuitions were better. I felt a tension in the air, a whisper of something ominous that reminded me I was in the presence of someone who had navigated a landscape of blood and betrayal.


    "No," she replied at last, her grin unwavering, as if it were a mask she wore with practiced ease. Her eyes, dark and piercing, locked onto mine.


    "They were killed¡­ by me."


    "Oh?" I responded, arching an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. "And why did you do that?"


    "Because, it asked me to."


    The stone was embedded in her nose, nestled just above the scar¡ªa vivid green glint that seemed to pulse with an almost sinister allure. It was her rune, a mark of power and a reminder of the choices she had made. The color was striking against her skin, a testament to the dark bond between her and the force that had driven her to such violence.


    "It asked me to cut open each of their throats while they slept." She rolled over, her gaze fixed on the dim ceiling of the hall, shadows dancing in the corners. "They were all asleep. We were at a girls'' sleepover, completely unaware of the fate awaiting us. Everyone was asleep¡ªeveryone but me." A chuckle escaped her lips, light and eerie. "I was awake when we got summoned here. I didn''t rouse them. Instead, I wandered, exploring the unfamiliar terrain. There was a river nearby, and I washed my feet in its cool waters. I wasn''t scared. No, I was excited."


    Her voice took on a seductive lilt as she spoke, pulling me deeper into her dark tale. "I found a seashell¡ªwho knew they could be found in rivers? I held it in my hand." She raised her palm, as if conjuring the shell from the depths of her memory. "It was beautiful and sharp! And then, the voice whispered to me. It urged me to cut their throats while they were still in slumber. I obeyed."


    The air grew heavy with the weight of her words. "They didn''t even know what was coming for them, lying beneath the silvery moonlight and the swaying trees. The girls died agonizingly, their last moments stretching out in confusion as blood gushed from their bodies. My hands were stained crimson, the warmth of their life spilling onto my skin. The Harmonis, a gift from the darkness, descended gracefully from the heavens, settling into my grasp. It granted me the power to heal and regenerate at a speed and efficiency that surpassed the average rune. I could have saved them as they lay there, helpless. But I didn''t." Her chuckle echoed again, a haunting melody in the stillness.


    I remained silent, the weight of her words pressing heavily upon me. Her hand fell limply to the stone bed, the tension between us thickening like fog. Neither of us spoke, the stillness stretching out, wrapping us in an uncomfortable embrace. After a few minutes, curiosity gnawed at me, prompting me to check on her once more.


    With deliberate care, I rose from the cold stone floor, straining to make no sound. Her eyes were closed, yet her smile lingered, an unsettling juxtaposition against the darkness surrounding us. One thing was clear: she was asleep.


    I sank back down, resting my head in my hands as I sat on my knees, a whirlpool of thoughts crashing in my mind. What the hell had just happened? Was she merely spinning tales¡ªdelirious from the trials of this world? Or was she something more sinister, a delusional mind reveling in the horror she''d wrought? My head throbbed, the uncertainty gnawing at my sanity.

 The Fallen

    The weariness weighed on me, each passing second gnawing at my mind. I had stayed awake the whole night, the familiar throb at the back of my skull pulsing with a dull ache, persistent yet not overwhelming. Back in the real world, a night like this would have been unbearable. The mental strain alone would''ve rendered me bedridden for days, if not weeks. No one would''ve noticed. No one would''ve cared. I would''ve had to drag myself through the motions¡ªmaking the bed, wetting cloths to cool my fevered skin, forcing food down despite the nausea. The thought of visiting a doctor never crossed my mind, not with the absurd fees they charged for a few empty words of advice.


    I would have simply stared at the ceiling for hours, waiting for exhaustion to take over and pull me into sleep, my mind racing until it could race no more. But here, in this twisted world, things felt different. The burden still lingered, yet it felt diluted, as though this "game" dulled the edge of both mental fatigue and physical exhaustion. The messenger had hinted at it when I was first brought here, on my way to the kingdom. But even if my body resisted collapse, I knew the truth: I needed sleep.


    It wasn''t an option now, though. I was trapped in a dark hall carved inside a mountain, where the sun wouldn''t dare to reach, where I couldn''t rely on its light to wake me. I had no idea when these people would stir or what they would do once they did. My head lowered, arms propped on my knees, eyes shut in a mockery of rest. But sleep? Sleep was elusive.


    Maki was still fast asleep, her breathing steady, completely at peace despite the absurdity of everything around us. It was strange¡ªafter giving me that terrible bedtime story, the last thing I expected was for her to sleep so soundly. The details of her tale still gnawed at me, and I wasn''t sure what to make of it. Whether it was some twisted version of the truth or a fabrication to mess with my head, I couldn''t tell. But the fact that she''d supposedly been here for three years, maybe with this very group, gave me some semblance of comfort.


    Still, I wasn''t foolish enough to let my guard down just yet. Survival didn''t always mean trustworthiness, and in a place like this, the lines between ally and foe could blur in an instant.


    One of the many questions that gnawed at the back of my mind was whether everyone summoned to this world had come from the same version of Earth as I had. It was a possibility I couldn''t easily dismiss, but there were too many uncertainties. Sure, these people displayed familiar habits, and they casually referenced technology that felt like something I would have known in my world. But just because they mentioned things that sounded like my reality didn''t mean they were from the same Earth. For all I knew, they could have come from entirely different versions of Earth¡ªparallel worlds that ran alongside mine, separated by thin veils I could never see, but with slight and significant differences. It made me wonder: if this world could pull people from one Earth, why not others? Why only humans?


    What if I encountered someone from my planet? Not just someone from Earth, but from my exact timeline? The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. Would they become an ally, someone who understood the world I came from, who shared my experiences, my memories? It felt like the most natural thing, to think that if I found someone who had lived the same life, breathed the same air, they''d be on my side. But this place twisted everything¡ªmorals, alliances, even identity. Would they really care? Or would they just see me as another obstacle in their path to survival?


    The more I thought about it, the more I doubted. This game, or whatever this twisted reality was, didn''t reward kindness or loyalty. It rewarded strength, ruthlessness, the ability to outlast others. In a world like this, where trust was a fragile thing, I had to wonder if even a shared past could overcome the instinct to survive at any cost. Back home, relationships were built on history and mutual understanding. But here? All that could easily crumble under the pressure to ascend, to become stronger.


    What if they saw me as competition? What if they believed that only one of us could survive or progress? It was possible that meeting someone from my past might complicate things rather than offer relief. We could look at each other, recognize the same desperation in our eyes, and know that, despite everything, we couldn''t truly afford to trust one another. I might expect an ally, but they might only see another threat.


    Another lingering question was how to progress to the next level. Back in Level 0, the tasks were straightforward, but now, things were far murkier. The messenger had mentioned I''d need to become stronger, but what did that mean? What was her definition of strength? How would I know if I had grown? Should I start by defeating others? Was killing everyone in this hall the path to becoming stronger?


    The answer was supposed to come with the update I''d receive after gaining my rune, but without that, I was lost. The only option seemed to be asking someone else. Zara was the closest thing to an ally here, but even then, I''m not completely sure if she would want to answer. I''d have to ask her about Maki too¡ªsomething was off about that girl.


    "Did you even manage to sleep?"


    I glanced over, surprised to see Zara awake. With all the thinking and the throbbing in my head, I had completely overlooked her presence.


    "Somewhat," I replied, my voice a bit rough from the restless night. She stared at me for a moment, her eyes studying mine, before a smile crept onto her face.


    "Well, you know what? Why don''t we go outside? The morning air might lighten your mood," she suggested. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Nodding, I got up and followed her as she led the way.


    Zara opened the door and stepped onto the pathway, the lamps still flickering with a warm glow. We walked in silence for a brief moment, the cool air brushing against my skin and soothing my scattered thoughts. After a short walk, we arrived at the boulder that blocked the entrance inside the mountain.


    With a determined look, Zara flexed her muscles before pushing the massive stone aside effortlessly. I hadn''t noticed it before, but just beside me was another staircase descending into the depths of the earth. Curiosity gnawed at me¡ªI needed answers, and this felt like the perfect moment to ask my questions.


    "How did you guys manage to build all of this?" I inquired, my eyes sweeping over the impressive structure.


    "We didn''t build," she replied casually, as if the weight of the entire mountain was nothing.


    "Garron crafted this all with the help of his rune, Terrastone," she added, her tone laced with pride.


    Oh, I replied, trying to sound impressed.


    "Yeah, it took him three days, though."


    The idea of one person creating something so monumental in such a short span intrigued me. It raised more questions than it answered. What kind of power did that rune hold? And if he could create all this, what else was possible?A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I followed her outside, the cool morning air wrapping around me like a gentle embrace. Zara settled down beside a tree, her gaze fixed on the dawn sky as it transitioned from deep indigo to warm hues of orange and gold. I found a tree nearby and leaned my back against its sturdy trunk, folding my arms across my chest.


    As I looked over at Zara, I caught her eye; she was smiling slightly, the soft glow of the sunrise reflecting in her eyes.


    "See," I began, gathering my thoughts, "I have questions. Many questions that I need answers to, and the only person I could ask here is you."


    Her smile widened, an inviting warmth radiating from her. "Yeah, I figured. Go on, clear your mind before the others wake up."


    I nodded, focusing on Zara as the morning air wrapped around us. "First, can you tell me about the Nyu and aura from the runes you keep talking about, and why you''re searching for them?"


    "Hmmm. If you don''t know that, then I guess you can''t see the console and various tabs in your head," she said.


    Confused, I replied, "No," simply letting her explain.


    "Hmmm, this is quite a complex topic, but I''ll do my best to break it down for you. If you can''t see the various tabs in your mind, it indicates that you didn''t receive the crucial update that comes once you claim your rune. Even though you hold it in your hand, the rune doesn''t recognize you as its master, which is why you missed out on that update."


    I nodded slowly, processing her words. "So you''re saying that the rune doesn''t see me as its master?"


    "Exactly," she affirmed.


    "The thing is, the various runes at this level each contain different amounts of Nyu. Once you receive the update, you''ll be able to see the amount of Nyu I possess just by looking at my rune." She gestured toward the diamond-shaped rune pierced in the upper part of her ear. "I currently have 5 Nyu. The more Nyu you have, the higher your status in this level."


    Realizing that this explanation would take some time, I decided to take a seat, leaning back against the sturdy trunk of the tree.


    "In your mind, you can access various tabs that display crucial information, such as the amount of essence remaining in your rune, the number of game coins you possess, details about the shop and auction, as well as a record of the people you''ve defeated. The list goes on, providing you with a comprehensive overview of your status and progress."


    "Sounds a lot like a video game, doesn''t it?"


    "Video game?" She looked at me, a hint of confusion on her face.


    "Sorry, just forget I said that. Please, go on." Her lack of familiarity with the concept of a video game cleared some of my doubts.


    "So one of the tabs is the leaderboard. There are various leaderboards, but to keep it simple, I''ll explain the leaderboards for this level. The first one is the Nyu leaderboard. It displays the players with the most Nyu in this level in order."


    I nodded. "So what do you do with the Nyu? Is it just points to display your strength or what?"


    "Umm, no, Nyu does not represent your strength," she explained. "It represents how many and how strong players you''ve defeated. For example, if you were to defeat me¡ªeither by crushing my rune, making me lose consciousness, or actually killing me in combat¡ªyou''d receive 40% of the Nyu I possess. But the Nyu you get will always be a whole number. So if you defeat me, you''d get, like, 2 Nyu. It can''t be in fractions; it rounds off to the highest whole number."


    I nodded, trying to wrap my head around it. "So again, doesn''t that represent strength?"


    "No," she clarified. "It''s possible for two players to have 24 and 25 Nyu, respectively. The one with 25 Nyu could have defeated multiple players with less than 10 Nyu to reach 25, while the one with 24 could have defeated a single player with 62 Nyu to get there. So it doesn''t really measure your strength, but rather how many and how powerful opponents you''ve defeated."


    Understanding began to settle in. "What''s the main purpose of this Nyu, then?"


    "The main purpose is to surpass a certain threshold set in each level. If you exceed that threshold, you get the right to pass on to the next level. But that doesn''t mean you have to."


    "Okay, so what''s the threshold for this level?" I asked, realizing that was the entire point.


    Zara''s expression turned serious and sad as she made a face. "It''s 320."


    "Damn," I muttered, feeling the weight of that number. "You''re nowhere close to that line."


    "And that''s why you have parties," Her expression brightened as she spoke.


    "I don''t quite get it," I replied.


    She continued, "You see, you''re not compelled to fight alone, you can if you choose, but the purpose of forming a party is that, if the leader surpasses the threshold, the entire party progresses alongside them. Additionally, every 10% of the Nyu earned by party members goes to the leader."


    I see so that offers a separate merit rather than when you choose to play alone. I guess I''ll act along a bit to get as much information as I can get before the party becomes active for today.


    "Ah, I see now. Thanks! But, um, if you don''t mind me asking, what''s the Nyu count for your party? If you''d rather not share, that''s fine too."


    She paused for a moment, scrutinizing me, before answering. "You know what? You''re not even a threat to us, even while we''re asleep. The reason is because of aura."


    "Huh? You didn''t explain what that counts for yet."


    She chuckled lightly. "It''s not a big deal. Aura is just a form of essence emitted from your rune. If you had one, you''d be able to gauge the strength of an opponent by the amount of aura their rune radiates. Since we sense no aura from your rune, it simply means you''re far inferior to us."


    I sighed. "You know you don''t have to keep reminding me of that, right?"


    Although I''m putting up an act and since I already know my situation, I genuinely didn''t like her bringing that up time and time again.


    She laughed. "Well, anyway, the party leader is Maki, so obviously she has more than I do¡ªshe has 12. Kael managed to get 1 when he defeated Maki during a spar before we formed our party."


    She cast her gaze downward, as if lost in the weight of memories. Though they had been brought together at different times, it was likely that the party had formed not long before two years ago. Two years in this relentless hell would surely leave scars¡ªboth visible and hidden¡ªetched into the souls of those who endured it.


    Taking a more serious tone, I pressed, "What about Garron?"


    She hesitated, drawing in a deep breath before continuing, her gaze shifting to the branches of the tree above. Sunlight began to filter through the leaves, casting a gentle glow that brightened the surrounding area and illuminated her face. The warm light danced in her eyes, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability hidden beneath her usual composure.


    "You know..... Garron, doesn''t actually belong in our party."


    My eyes narrowed confirming the lingering suspicion.


    "You may have noticed, but he''s far stronger than the rest of us. In fact, he''s the only one in our party who managed to pass Level 1."


    "What do you mean?"


    She lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret. "The only reason he''s here, is that his previous party was annihilated in Level 3."


    I was actually shocked. I kind of expected her to say Garron has passed or nearly passed level 1, due to the unusually strong aura, but to have reached level 3?


    "Unfortunately, he was the only survivor. The enemies stripped him of his Nyu, forcing him to demote from Level 3 to Level 2. And with no allies left, let alone a leader, he didn''t have the strength to progress, and soon, he was thrown back to this level."


    So that guy really didnt belong in here. "Did he join your party in order to climb again?", I asked.


    "Not really, just after a few months of forming our party, we faced off against other players. We had one casualty, the friend of Kael, who died trying to protect him. We were not as strong as we are now. And when the situation was getting dire, Garron stumbled upon us. He saw the brawl going on and decided to save Maki who had nearly depleted her rune trying to heal us."


    She looked at me with a tiny smirk on her lips. "It looked like Garron got a little crush on her."


    Oh wow. Crush on that Psycho? Yea sure.


    "He decided to protect her for the rest of his life in this game. And since then he became a part of this party."


    So how much Nyu does he have?" I asked, curiosity piqued.


    "Garron," she paused, her expression turning contemplative. "He has about 300 left, maybe more. But one thing is for sure. He can advance this level if he wishes, but since he only promised to protect Maki, he doesn''t hunt for us, what a pity."


    It mirrored, in some ways, the life led by the old man. Before I could continue my questioning, a deep murmur echoed within the mountain''s depths, reverberating like a distant thunderclap. I turned to Zara. "Well, I suppose this is as far as we go for today. Let''s get something to eat."


    Food¡ªhow could I have forgotten? It had been far too long since I arrived in this level, and the gnawing emptiness in my stomach reminded me of my neglect. We retraced our steps into the dim interior, where something warm and hearty awaited us, promising a momentary escape from the questions still swirling in my mind.

 The Foreboding

    The hall remained shrouded in a dim light, faintly illuminated by the glow of the lamps. Kael and Maki were nowhere to be seen. Garron still sat in his stone couch, unmoving. I found myself wondering just how long he''d been alive¡ªpossibly longer than the old man, though he appeared no older than me, maybe a couple of years. He seemed shorter than me, something I hadn''t noticed before, but I realized I had grown taller. Much taller. Nearly as tall as Rob, pushing 195 cm. The thought quickly gave way to another, darker one: what were the chances that Dan was still alive?


    "Don''t stare at him too much," Zara''s voice cut through my thoughts. She was to the side, rolling up a mattress and tidying up a table and chair.


    "So, about the food?" I asked.


    "Oh, don''t worry, the two went to get some coins."


    "Coins?" I repeated, not quite grasping the concept.


    She dusted off her hands, rising from her work. "Coins are the legitimate currency of the Game. You can still have your own currency in your own city within this game, but to buy anything from the in-game shop or participate in the auction, you need game coins."


    "And how do you get those?" I asked.


    "By leveling up, which we haven''t done, or by defeating or killing enemies. You can even sell physical objects to the game, which might fetch you some coins."


    She walked over to a stone that lay near the wall and held it in her palm, showing it to me. At first, nothing happened, but then the stone began to pixelate, disintegrating into nothing.


    "You got coins for that?" I asked, intrigued.


    "Of course not," she smirked. "I sold it for free. I got zero coins. But that''s how the selling mechanism works."


    "And to buy?" I inquired further.


    Without missing a beat, she held her palm out again. This time, out of thin air, an apple materialized in her hand. "I spent three coppers for this," she said, tossing the apple my way. "That''s your breakfast for today."


    I caught it, eyeing her as she headed for the door, a smile playing on her lips. I wasn''t sure if she was joking or serious. Despite my best efforts to act clueless and keep up the nice-guy front, a smug grin crept onto my face. I had high hopes for the food, and to be honest, level zero had better meals.


    As I bit into the apple, I couldn''t help but question whether coming here was the right decision. It had to be the right choice, but now I was left alone with a guy who could''ve been older than Vincent himself.


    I knew where the three had gone: to the underground base at the foot of the mountain. I wasn''t entirely sure what they had stashed down there, but I had a pretty strong hunch. They''d likely scavenged all sorts of things over the years, waiting to sell them when the market''s value peaked. From what I''d gathered, you could probably sell a bottle of water for gold if you timed it right. For instance, if a sudden drought hit this level and water became scarce, once all the water in the market was gone, you could make a fortune selling your own stock. But, of course, it was a gamble¡ªthere was always the chance you''d end up with a shortage yourself.


    I felt confident in my understanding of how this game worked, but the gaping hole in my plan was that the rune wasn''t truly mine. Without ownership, I couldn''t access the in-game tabs and console, and those were vital. I sat on the floor, the apple still in my hand, thinking. This very apple was probably sacrificed by some guy on the opposite side of this world, all for a few copper coins.


    I reached into my pocket and pulled out the rune. In the dim light, it looked dull, barely visible in the shadowy room. I could sell this, maybe even for golds. Sure, I couldn''t access the market myself, but I could ask Zara to sell it for me and pass along the coins. With those coins, I could get a rune I could actually use. It was the only solution I had come up with so far.


    But there was something bothering me about it. The rune had appeared to me while I was asleep. Even if it didn''t obey me, it had clearly chosen to trust me to hold onto it until its real owner came along. Or maybe the owner would show up once I died. There were endless possibilities, none of them certain. But the path for my survival in this game was clear: I had to sell it.


    I held the rune close to my chest, feeling its faint warmth, its steady pulse. It was very much alive, and there was this strange connection between us. As if fate had tied me to bear it until the true rune holder arrived.


    "Guess I''ll wait a little longer," I whispered, pressing the stone to my heart.


    Time had slipped by without me realizing I had fallen asleep. I woke up to Maki''s face hovering inches from mine, flashing her usual cheerful grin¡ªnot the unsettling smile from the other night, when she casually described her atrocities.


    "Let''s go shopping," she chirped.


    I brushed her aside, trying to clear my vision. The guy on the couch¡ªGarron¡ªwas gone. Maki was crouched at my side, while Zara and Kael stood nearby. Kael didn''t look particularly excited about the "shopping trip." In fact, he seemed upset, though I couldn''t tell if it was because of the trip itself or the fact that they were dragging me along.


    "What shopping? Where?" I asked, still disoriented.


    They exchanged confused looks before Zara smirked. "Oh, I see. I didn''t explain the map of this world to you."


    That made sense. I had no idea about the geography of this level. After spawning in the forest and being brought into the mountain, I had no clue about the surrounding terrains.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Just like the few kingdoms in Level 0," Zara began, but Kael''s expression soured even further. He wasn''t hiding his displeasure now. "In this level, there''s a town. But unlike the kingdoms, this place is massive. More like a small country." Her grin widened. "Rumor has it that there are a few others out there, but not many have ventured far enough to see them. This city is protected by an enormous wall, built by rune holders, that divides the forest and the other natural terrains. And on the other side of the wall¡­" She paused for dramatic effect, her eyes gleaming. "Lies the Cybercity."


    Cybercity? My interest piqued instantly. Just like the games I used to play.


    "How did they build a ''cyber'' city? Isn''t technology rare in this game?" I asked.


    Zara scoffed. "Boy, you clearly have no idea about the possibilities with a rune." She pointed at my hand. "You''ve got electricity, even if yours doesn''t work. There''s electricity, stone, minerals, wind, water, metals, the will of the forests, and all the other deviants. With all these runes, how could building a cyber city not be possible?"


    She had a point. But there was one nagging thought in my mind. She didn''t even know what video games were, so there was no way she could fully grasp what a cyber city should look like. For all I knew, some random guy could''ve thrown together a village and slapped the name on it based on what little knowledge he had from his world.


    "So, who built the city¡ªor at least named it?" I asked.


    She put a finger to her chin, looking thoughtful. "I don''t know."


    "It''s Rynok," Kael interrupted, even though he looked like he''d rather not be talking.


    "Who was he?" I asked.


    Kael let out a heavy sigh, clearly irritated. "I don''t really want you tagging along, but I guess you''re as clueless as they come. Rynok was one of the first people to pass Level 1. Before he did, he built this vast city. His rune wasn''t confirmed, but people think it was metallic. He''s the one who named the city ''Cybercity.''" He gave me a pointed look, narrowing his eyes. "Zara isn''t from our world, and she doesn''t know a thing about technology. And yeah, I can see you''re wondering if this place is really a cyber city by your standards. I don''t know whether your time period was ahead of mine or behind, but if you''re thinking of what shows and movies depict as a cyber city, then yes, this place fits the bill. Now stop asking stupid questions and answer: are you coming with us or not? Because if you''re not, we''ll have to kick you out into the forest since we can''t leave you here with Garron gone."


    I nodded. "But where is Gar¡ª"


    Before I could finish, Kael''s slicing glare shut me up. No more questions, I guessed. I had no choice now.


    "Well, I guess I''ll have you guys buy me something that''s not an apple," I muttered, pushing myself to my feet.


    We walked through the forest, the damp earth soft beneath our feet and the dry canopy above casting long shadows. One thing I''d learned was that these guys usually went hunting for Nyu after sunset. The logic behind it was simple: most fights broke out after noon, and they believed they had a better chance of catching someone off guard in the dark.


    The strategy, however, hadn''t been particularly fruitful. In the 33 years they''d been here, it had only worked four times. The victims they''d managed to ambush were far below them on the leaderboard, which meant they couldn''t squeeze much Nyu out of them. Solid strategy on paper, sure, but its lack of success was largely due to the presence of the Cybercity.


    The rulers of that city¡ªthe top players of this level¡ªwere a force to be reckoned with. Six of them were in the top ten on the leaderboard, making them stronger than anyone I''d met so far¡ªexcept for Garron. He ranked third, though from what I gathered, he didn''t even bother trying to climb higher. Violence was strictly forbidden within the city, unlike in the kingdom. We could use our runes freely inside, but only as long as they weren''t intended to harm others. That rule alone kept the peace.


    Despite surpassing the threshold for promotion to the next level, the leaders of the Cybercity had chosen to stay, content with ruling this one. It gave them control, power, and stability. But anyone who dared leave the safety of the city walls was often ambushed by strong, organized parties waiting just outside.


    The city itself wasn''t terrible, though. It was like the kingdom but with advanced technology. People lived normal lives, raising families just like they did in the kingdom, only with modern conveniences. It made me wonder if they even had video games. I doubted it, but the thought amused me for a moment.


    More importantly, though, I had to focus on my own needs. If this city was as advanced as it seemed, there had to be some way for me to get my hands on a rune. That was my priority. Without a rune I could actually use, I was stuck¡ªvulnerable in this level''s twisted hierarchy.


    "How long until we reach the city?" I asked, breaking the silence as we weaved through the forest''s undergrowth.


    Zara glanced back at me, her face unreadable. "Not much longer. You''ll see it when we hit the wall."


    I nodded, focusing ahead. With each step, the thought of the Cybercity loomed larger in my mind. Maybe this was my chance to get what I needed¡ªif I played my cards right.


    But little did I know, my journey through this game was on the verge of ending far sooner than I had ever anticipated. The intricate webs of fate were already in motion, and the rightful owner of the World Element, the rune I unknowingly harbored, was about to be born inside that very city.


    It was ironic, really. While I wandered aimlessly, trying to survive in this twisted realm, the true heir of the immense power I carried was waiting to emerge. It made me question everything¡ªwas my presence in this level just a brief chapter in someone else''s story? A mere placeholder for the real protagonist to step into their role?


    Each step I took towards the Cybercity, I unknowingly inched closer to that inevitable moment. The rune, warm and pulsing against my chest, felt more alive with each passing day¡ªas if it, too, knew that its time with me was running out.


    Whatever destiny awaited me beyond these walls, I could feel it closing in. And whether I liked it or not, my time here was almost up.


    "Hey, what are you doing? You''re being left behind. If you don''t want to keep up, I''ll be happy to kill you right here and end your misery," Kael shouted, his voice cold and sharp, cutting through the thick silence of the forest.


    "Are you actually starting to care for the boy?" Maki laughed, her tone mocking as she threw a glance back at me.


    "Try keeping up, boy," Zara called out, her voice a little softer than the others, though still carrying an edge of impatience. "These dry, twisted branches might make you lose your way. And what are you thinking about so intently anyway?"


    A strange jolt surged through my body¡ªfrom my toes all the way to the tips of my hair¡ªleaving me momentarily paralyzed. "Huh? Uh... I don''t remember," I stammered, wiping the sweat that had begun to gather on my forehead.


    What was I thinking about a second ago?


    It was as if the thought had slipped away, leaving nothing behind but a hazy void. The moment had vanished into thin air, like it had never existed. But the sensation¡ªthe creeping dread, the faint pulse of something far darker¡ªstill lingered. Something important, something that had briefly brushed the surface of my mind, had been erased, leaving me uneasy.


    I could feel Zara''s eyes on me, her gaze sharp as if she could sense something off, but I avoided her stare.


    "I didn''t think you could forget anything, boy," Kael muttered under his breath, his irritation evident.


    I forced myself to move, falling back into step with the others. But even as we continued forward, my mind felt heavy, weighed down by a nagging suspicion that I''d missed something¡ªsomething crucial. A single moment of clarity lost in the blur of my journey.


    And now, all I had was a growing sense of foreboding that I couldn''t shake.

 Against The World, Towards Demise

    Walking had never felt like this before. The weight in my legs wasn''t just exhaustion; it was as if the world itself was pulling me down, like some unseen force didn''t want me to reach the city. Kael had been glancing back at me several times, his usual stoic face showing flickers of something unfamiliar¡ªconcern? But this time, he stopped completely. He turned to face me, his sharp eyes narrowing.


    "Yo, kid, you alright?" he asked, his tone rough but edged with something more. "You''re weak and pathetic, sure, but why the hell are you sweating like crazy?"


    He was right. My shirt clung to my skin, drenched, and despite my best efforts to wipe the sweat off my face, droplets kept falling from my chin. The others had stopped now, too, staring. Zara and Kael looked genuinely worried. Maki, though¡ªher face, I wasn''t sure about her.


    Kael''s voice cut through the stillness. "I''m asking you, boy, are you okay? You''re trembling. If you can''t keep up, we''ll have to drag you back to the shelter¡ªbut we''re already two-thirds of the way across. Turning back ain''t exactly an option."


    I''d never seen Kael this... concerned before. His usual biting remarks held a different weight now. I forced a weak smile. "I''m fine. Just need to catch my breath. You guys go ahead, I''ll catch up."


    I needed time¡ªtime alone to figure out what the hell was going on with me. We were close; I could already see the distant silhouettes of the city''s pointed skyscrapers. The stars had vanished from the sky, swallowed by the artificial glow radiating from the land ahead. But the closer we got, the heavier each step became. Like my body was resisting, fighting against me.


    Logic told me to stop. If I stayed here, rested, or even turned back, I wouldn''t die from whatever this was. But that wasn''t the real problem.


    "Should I stay?" Zara''s voice was soft, tentative. She glanced at the others.


    I didn''t want anyone to stay, not even her. I needed space to think. But how could I ask for it without raising suspicions?


    "No," Kael interrupted, his voice gruff. "I''ll stay. You guys keep going."


    "You sure?" Zara looked doubtful.


    "He''ll be fine," Maki chimed in, finally breaking his silence. "I mean, he''s the strongest one among us, right? If it''s just a few minutes, no big deal."


    Zara was about to protest, but I cut her off. "It''s alright. Really. My rune hasn''t awakened yet, so my stamina''s off. Plus, I barely made it through my 20 miles at level zero." I lied. I just needed them to leave, and being alone with Kael was my best shot at understanding him a little more.


    Kael nodded at them, silently telling them to move on. After a moment of hesitation, they disappeared into the mist¡ªashy clouds twisting around the barren, dried-up trees.


    When the others were gone, Kael turned to me. "I''ll get you some water," he said, sounding almost reluctant. "Can''t spend any coins on you right now, but I''ll find something."


    He shrugged and disappeared into the woods. Honestly, I didn''t think he''d find water in this wasteland, but if I had to guess, he was giving me space. Maybe he was even watching from a distance. Or maybe he''d really bring water, spending his own coins on me. Either way, my opinion of him was shifting. At first, I couldn''t stand the guy, but now... now things felt different.


    The weight dragging me down wasn''t the worst of it. I grabbed the collar of my shirt¡ªa shirt that was once white but had long since turned brown, stained with dirt and sweat. Without thinking, I tore it off. My chest was exposed, and there, etched deep into my skin, was the rune. I hadn''t shown this to anyone. With no aura radiating from it, no one had noticed. But now, under the pale glow of the night, it shone brightly, the once pale stone now blazing.


    The rune wasn''t just blazing. It was pulsing. Not figuratively, but literally, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Each throb was like a hammer driving into my chest, searing into my skin, into my bones. My breath came in ragged gasps, desperate and shallow. The ground no longer seemed to weigh on my feet, but that wasn''t the problem. I could feel it now¡ªthe real issue wasn''t the exhaustion, or the earth dragging me down.


    It was the rune.


    I looked down, the glow blurring my vision. This rune¡ªit wasn''t even mine. That was the terrifying part. It had taken hold of me, of my body, and it was pulling me toward the city ahead. Every time I slowed down, it beat harder, stronger than my own heart. Every time I stopped, it drilled deeper into my bones, as if punishing me for daring to hesitate.


    The Rune wanted me to move.


    The Game wanted me to stop.


    And caught between them, my body was breaking apart. But there was no choice anymore¡ªthe rune demanded my obedience, and it would drag me forward, no matter the cost.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I threw my head back, struggling to think, the pain radiating from my chest clouding every thought. The rune had attached itself to me while I slept. It had bonded to my body without me realizing it, like some cursed parasite. I didn''t feel a thing at first. When I woke and saw the faint etching on my skin, I was excited, even hopeful. The possibility of using a rune, of having access to that kind of power, seemed like a blessing. But now, with it pulsing inside me, pounding like a second heart, it was nothing but a curse.


    I had no choice¡ªI had to move.


    I forced myself to stand, my legs quaking under the weight of the world pressing down on me again. Each step felt like I was dragging boulders chained to my ankles. Sweat dripped from my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I barely noticed. The torn shirt in my hand, I tossed it off.


    When I glanced down at my body, I paused. I hadn''t really noticed before, but something had changed. My muscles had grown leaner, more defined, my frame taller and sharper than I remembered. My skin was still pale but stretched tighter over the newly sculpted muscle. How had I not seen this before? But then again, the constant agony in my chest hadn''t exactly left room for self-reflection.


    The rune glowed with a sickening, rhythmic pulse, every beat digging deeper into my flesh. This wasn''t just some symbol carved onto my skin¡ªit was alive, and it was consuming me. Each pulse felt like a hammer driving a spike straight into my heart, forcing me forward, demanding that I continue toward the city. I gritted my teeth, trying to swallow the screams that threatened to spill out.


    Suddenly, Kael''s voice cut through the suffocating air like a sharp blade. "What the hell are you doing?" He stepped out of the ashy mist, his eyes wide with shock. He stared at the glowing rune on my chest, confusion and fear written all over his face. "What the fuck is that!?"


    He approached me slowly, cautiously, like I was some kind of wild animal about to snap. His gaze flicked back and forth between the rune and my face, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.


    "Is that your rune? What the fuck is it doing there?" His voice grew more frantic, his steps hesitant, as if afraid I might explode at any moment. "What are you doing?"


    I didn''t want to tell him the truth, so I forced another lie. "I don''t know how it happened," I muttered, doing my best to sound calm even as my chest burned with every pulse. "It just... stuck itself on me. It''s draining my energy, exhausting me. I don''t even know how I''m still standing."


    Kael paced, rubbing the back of his neck, looking more and more agitated by the second. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by genuine concern. His mind raced, searching for a solution that didn''t exist.


    "We need to get you help," he muttered, half to himself. "There''s gotta be something we can do."


    "I think the only way I can get any help is in that city," I said, my voice tight from the pain. The rune pulsed harder, as if responding to the idea of moving forward. "I have to get there. If I don''t, this thing''s going to kill me."


    Kael stopped pacing and turned to face me. "How the hell are you supposed to make it there in this condition?" he snapped. "You can''t bring a rune inside the city. You know that, right? Maybe I can¡ª" His hand ignited in a flash of orange flames. "Maybe I can burn it off."


    "You can''t be serious." My voice came out rough, barely a whisper. The thought of him torching the rune off my chest was enough to make my skin crawl, but there was a part of me¡ªdeep down¡ªthat considered it for a second.


    With a sigh, Kael extinguished the flames, shaking his head. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you now?"


    "I''ll be fine," I said, even though I wasn''t sure of it myself. The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but they had to be said. "Maybe I can sneak in."


    Kael stared at me, his expression unreadable. "Sneaking into a city full of top players? You''re insane. We''ll be caught. Tortured, maybe worse. You don''t even know what''s waiting for you in there."


    "I never said we."


    His eyes widened slightly, and I could see him piecing it together. "Wait, you don''t mean¡ª"


    "Yes," I interrupted. "Once we reach the city, I''ll go my own way. This is my problem, not yours. I don''t want to be a burden on any of you. I''m grateful for everything¡ªthe shelter, the food¡ªbut this is where we part ways." I bowed my head in thanks, knowing there wasn''t much more I could offer.


    Kael remained silent, his eyes fixed on the ground, shoulders tense. I wasn''t sure if he was angry, frustrated, or just confused by my sudden decision. I cannot blame him. Being in a party with no man except a guy who is in the party just because he has a little crush on one of the girls. And I appeared, someone whom he can talk to, be with, share some moments. And now the same guy is asking to lead him to his death. I sure cant blame him. If anything, I feel sympathy. Finally, he turned his back to me, standing tall. Stretched out his hand. From thin air, a cloth materialized in his palm. He tossed it at me without a word.


    "Wear that," he muttered.


    The cloth Kael tossed at me was unlike anything I''d ever seen. As I caught it, I realized it wasn''t just fabric¡ªit had a slick, almost metallic sheen, yet felt soft and lightweight in my hands. Midnight black with streaks of neon blue tracing intricate, angular patterns that pulsed faintly in sync with my rune. It looked like something out of a futuristic dystopia, a cloak that could belong to a rogue hacker in the depths of Cybercity.


    The edges of the cloth were lined with silver thread that shimmered in the dim light, catching every faint glint from the distant city lights. The material was breathable but dense, a perfect blend of form and function¡ªarmor disguised as fashion. A hood extended from the back, cut in sharp, geometric angles, giving the impression of both mystery and menace. The neon-blue accents pulsed rhythmically, like a heartbeat, making it feel alive, almost as if it were a second skin.


    It wasn''t just a cloak; it was a statement. Something a rebel would wear in the chaotic underbelly of the city, blending the sleek design of cyberpunk tech with the rough, rebellious aesthetic of the streets. Wrapping it around me, I felt hidden, shielded from the eyes of the world, yet somehow bolder. It was like I belonged in the shadowy corners of Cybercity, moving through the neon-lit streets unnoticed but never truly unseen. It was kind of edgy but I guess this is his taste, despite being a grown ass man. "I''ve spent pretty much all the coins I have left for now for that. Keep it safe and clean."


    "Well then, prick," Kael said with a forced smirk, his voice regaining some of its usual sarcasm. He didn''t look at me directly, but I could tell he was watching me from the corner of his eye. "Follow me."


    And so, despite the agony tearing through my body, I did. One painful step at a time.

 City of Forgotten Dreams

    The atmosphere was heavier here, near the walls of the city. We both stood still, bound in a silence that held as much anticipation as dread. Kael had barely glanced my way since our arrival, his back turned, shoulders squared as he faced the ominous structure before us. The cyber cloak he''d handed me draped over my shoulders, an odd mix of warmth and coolness seeping through its fabric. I exhaled, watching as my breath formed a mist in the chilly air. This marked the end of the forsaken Lugusia Forest and the beginning of what lay ahead: the notorious cybercity.


    Kael finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. "I''ll head to the right, to the gates." His gaze met mine for a fleeting moment, and a hint of something unspoken lingered in his eyes. "That cloak will help you... keep up with those awful physical stats of yours." He gestured to it, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. We stood there, staring. He stammered out, "Good luck, my f-f-friend."


    An automatic smile found its way to my face. "I promise we''ll meet again, friend," I replied, though doubt clung to the edges of my words. Kael returned my smile, albeit hesitantly, then turned toward the gates and walked away.


    As he disappeared into the shadows, the reality of our situation pressed in. We may never meet again. And, more unsettling, I might not even survive to see another dawn. The cybercity would either accept me or leave me as another forgotten corpse at its gates. I lowered my head and studied my palm. The pain, that constant throb, was gone, but there was something else. A strange sensation as though gravity had loosened its hold, my body lighter, drawn into a strange phase of existence. I''d crossed a threshold, one I could feel pressing down on me, the way air compresses before a storm. I was stepping into a place I had no right to enter.


    I glanced up at the wall again, its massive, glistening pillars towering above, unyielding and alien. The walls were constructed from some unknown material that seemed both wet and dry, a slick surface to repel anyone who might dare to climb. I took a leap, but the air, heavy and viscous, fought against me as though it were designed to restrain flight. My gaze drifted to the wall''s peak, hidden by the thick clouds that blotted out the sky, casting everything in a muted gray. It would rain soon, and rain was rarely forgiving; it always dragged memories with it, ones I''d rather leave buried.


    I pulled my cloak tighter and peered down at my chest. The rune glowed beneath the fabric, a steady pulse urging me forward, hungry for what lay beyond these walls. It expected me to act, to step into the unknown without question. But there was just one problem: I had no plan, no idea how to infiltrate a city that had already devoured the ambitions of countless others. I looked over at the path Kael had taken, a small pang tightening in my chest.


    But there was nothing left to do but try.


    I walked on, one foot dragging after the other, my eyes tracking the wall for any sign of a gate. But the shadows were deep, and no matter how much ground I covered, the entrance eluded me. The cyber cloak kept fatigue at bay, but there was a dull hunger gnawing at me, a reminder of my lack of supplies. Eventually, I slumped down against the wall, feeling the cold, unyielding surface press into my back. I could walk a bit more, maybe keep searching¡ªbut just then, a noise stopped me dead in my tracks.


    The faint rustling came from the sparse dead trees nearby. My instincts kicked in, and I slipped behind a nearby pillar, just out of sight. Peering around, I spotted a group of masked figures shuffling through the darkness, their heads and bodies completely obscured by thick coverings. They were dragging several large bags, moving with a disturbing ease, as though this was routine. Their low voices barely reached me, murmuring things I couldn''t quite make out. Then, without ceremony, they dropped the bags into a shallow, sunken pit in the ground.


    One of the men bore a badge¡ªa skull, twisted into a design that had a disturbing techno-aesthetic to it, clearly belonging to the cybercity. As I watched, one of the men waved his hand over the pit and snapped. A spark ignited, flickering down into the depths, and a moment later, flames leaped up. The contents of those bags started to smolder and burn, sending a foul smell into the air. My stomach churned as the truth dawned on me. Bodies¡ªthey were burning bodies. Whether they had been dead, alive, or somewhere in between, I couldn''t tell, but the sight alone had bile rising in my throat.


    I edged a little further forward, straining to make out any detail that might give me answers, all while keeping dead silent. There, embedded in the wall, a faint light glowed¡ªalmost imperceptible until you knew where to look. A door or a portal. So, they had their own private way in and out of the city, an underground passage that kept all of this hidden from the eyes of the public and the players.


    They finished their grim task, the flames licking hungrily at the remains, and one by one, the masked figures stepped back through the portal. I tried to piece together what I''d seen. If these people, or whoever they worked for, could manipulate fire with a mere snap, then they were a different breed of threat altogether. Runes might be restricted within the city to prevent chaos or rebellion, but if these men wielded powers beyond the limits of rune magic, then the organization running things here had an upper hand¡ªa ruthless, corrupted grip on control.


    Watching them disappear into the portal, I knew one thing for certain: the cybercity was a far darker place than its gleaming lights suggested.


    They had vanished, every last one of them slipping back through the portal¡ªbut the portal itself lingered, a pulsing, shrinking shimmer in the night. My pulse quickened. This was my only chance. If it closed, I''d be left stranded outside, with no way to breach the city walls.


    Ignoring the stench of burning flesh and the faint, haunting echoes of pain that seemed to resonate from the pit, I approached the portal. I pulled the cloak tighter around me, and, as if responding to my very thoughts, the fabric shifted, stretching up over my mouth and nose, muffling the smell and dampening the eerie cries. The cloak swathed my face, leaving only my eyes and ears exposed, an extension of my own will. I could feel the hum of the portal, a strange rhythm pulling me forward, urging me onward.


    I stood at the edge, breathing heavily, feeling the last threads of my hesitation slipping away. The portal was beginning to diminish, its glow fading slowly, almost reluctantly. No more time for second thoughts. I clutched my chest, the rune pulsing beneath my hand, as if sharing in my resolve. With one last, deep breath, I reached out, fingers trembling, and pressed my hand to the swirling surface. In an instant, the world around me blurred, and I felt myself pulled through, absorbed into the strange, humming dimension that lay beyond.


    "What?" The word escaped my lips as I stumbled forward, blinking at the strange surroundings. The portal had spat me out into a cramped, grimy dead-end, boxed in by towering buildings with rusted wires hanging like twisted vines overhead. Laughter and muffled voices filled the air, drifting down from the shadows above. Men lounged on windowsills, others dangled from the wires, some perched precariously on the building edges. They drank and joked, oblivious to the world below¡ªa world that felt like an unkempt machine, grinding on despite itself.


    I jammed my hands into my pockets, head down, and started walking, moving cautiously toward what I assumed was the city''s core. Behind me, the wall loomed as formidable as ever, a silent witness to my entry. I didn''t dare meet anyone''s gaze, keeping my focus on the cracked pavement and the harsh glow of neon signs flickering overhead. Cars zoomed in the distance, an undertone of speed and danger adding an edge to the chaotic ambiance.


    I reached a crossroad where two narrow alleys veered off to the right and left. In one, I saw women draped across men, half-naked and glazed-eyed, a bitter scent of smoke thickening the air around them. In the other, a brawl was in full swing¡ªtwo men slugging it out in the center of a loose crowd of spectators, some cheering, some jeering, while a few girls watched with indifferent expressions. The way men sprawled over exposed women, with drinks in hand and vacant, leering eyes, stirred a pang of revulsion in me. This place reeked of indulgence and decay, like a forgotten corner of the city where people chased oblivion rather than life.


    I pushed forward, ignoring the stench of garbage piling in the alley corners, the rats scurrying between scraps. Neon lights buzzed weakly over a few dingy bars, their signs missing letters, casting broken halos over the dirty sidewalks. I knew I was in the poorest district of the cybercity. Even the rune on my chest seemed to beat in a strange rhythm, a light, almost eager pulse, as if it were feeding off the city''s dark energy.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    My jaw tightened. Whatever had led me here, I knew I''d need to keep my wits about me.


    I kept moving, weaving through the shadows cast by buzzing neon signs and the hulking silhouettes of rundown buildings. The streets here felt alive in a way that made my skin prickle¡ªnot with excitement, but with the sense that I was trespassing in a world that didn''t care who I was or why I was here.


    I kept moving, weaving through the shadows cast by buzzing signs and the hulking silhouettes of rundown buildings. The narrow alleys and streets felt like veins, twisting and pulsing with the city''s lifeblood¡ªa raw, unfiltered energy that was part menace, part allure. The deeper I went, the louder it grew, a hum of voices rising and falling, each one blending into the next in drunken shouts, sharp bursts of laughter, and whispered arguments. Every corner seemed to hold someone slouched in shadow, each silhouette leaning against walls mottled with peeling paint and grime, eyes following me with a fleeting flicker of interest before moving on.


    Bars lined the street, each looking more dilapidated than the last, yet somehow alive with the sounds of lives being lived fast and rough. Neon lights flickered above doorways, their fractured glows splashing color onto the wet pavement below, illuminating puddles that reflected pieces of the broken sky. I passed one bar, then another, each spilling out the heavy scent of smoke and stale beer into the night, mingling with the metallic taste of the city air. A few patrons, swaying as they stumbled from one place to the next, jostled past me, their laughter loud, brash, the kind that carried the weight of having forgotten how it felt to laugh any other way.


    Ahead, a bar caught my eye. Its sign was barely legible, buried under layers of grime and dust, only a few of its letters flickering with the last vestiges of light. "Neon''s Edge"¡ªor something like it. The words blinked in and out, trying desperately to stay alight, casting a feeble glow over the entrance, where shadows seemed to pool thickest. The sound of muffled music thumped from inside, a steady bass line pulsing like a heartbeat, carrying with it the faintest notes of a melody that was almost drowned out by the noise of the crowd.


    I paused, my mouth dry. An idea took root in my mind, tempting yet foolish¡ªmaybe I could slip inside, get a drink, something to wash the grit of this place out of my throat. I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, feeling only the smooth, empty lining. No money, no tokens, not a single thing to trade. My fingers curled in frustration, but the thirst gnawing at the back of my throat was enough to keep me moving forward.


    Without a second thought, I stepped through the door, bracing myself for whatever lay on the other side.


    Inside, the room unfolded like a scene from a memory, dimly lit and soaked in hues of red and blue, the colors bleeding together in the haze of smoke that hung heavy in the air. The lights seemed ancient, barely clinging to life, casting distorted shadows that danced over the walls and across the faces of those packed into the room. People were everywhere, some hunched over tables littered with empty glasses, others leaning against the bar, their heads bent close in murmured conversation or raised in laughter that echoed like hollow shells.


    A group of women lingered by the entrance, draped in clothes that seemed both worn and vibrant, colors dulled by use but not yet faded. They noticed me immediately, their eyes keen, assessing, taking in every detail from the cloak that wrapped around my shoulders to the faint traces of weariness etched into my expression. Their gazes weren''t hostile¡ªjust curious, a practiced, well-worn curiosity that knew when and where to linger.


    One of them stepped forward, her movements fluid, deliberate, a smile curving her lips as her eyes locked onto mine. She was close now, close enough that I could catch the faint trace of perfume mixed with smoke and something sharper, an edge I couldn''t quite place. Her gaze flicked to my cloak, lingering on its fabric as though she''d already seen a hundred like it, yet found something in mine worth noting.


    "Haven''t seen you around here, stranger," she said, her voice low, each word coated in a warmth that felt practiced yet inviting. Her hand lifted, fingers brushing lightly against my arm, a touch that held me in place without force. "Lookin'' for a drink?"


    For a moment, I hesitated, caught off guard by the softness of her tone, by the way her hand rested against my sleeve, guiding me closer without a hint of pressure. Her eyes held a glint of amusement, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips as though she already knew the answer. I could feel the weight of her gaze, its intent, a subtle invitation wrapped in the guise of casual interest.


    I glanced around, taking in the murky shapes of patrons hunched over tables or crowded around the bar, their faces partially obscured in smoke and shadow. Laughter erupted from a nearby corner, loud and abrupt, drawing a few heads before fading back into the hum of conversation. Someone brushed past me, the scent of alcohol and sweat trailing after them, mixing with the layered smells of the room¡ªcheap perfume, cigarette ash, spilled beer, and something else, something raw and metallic that clung to the air like a second skin.


    The woman''s smile widened, her hand still resting on my arm. "Not much of a talker, are you?" she murmured, her voice barely audible over the noise. She leaned in just a fraction closer, her gaze never leaving mine, as though testing the distance, waiting to see if I''d pull away or lean in.


    "First time in the Edge?" she asked, her voice low and smooth, each word measured. Her gaze flicked briefly to my cloak, taking in the details with a slight, knowing smile.


    "Yeah," I said, almost too quietly against the noise of the bar. I cleared my throat, glancing around, unsure if I looked as out of place as I felt.


    Her smile didn''t quite reach her eyes. "Well, this place doesn''t judge. All are welcome as long as they pay, or¡­" She looked me up and down, as though calculating, then finished, "keep to themselves." Her eyes narrowed as she added, "Looking for something to drink?"


    I hesitated, my hand reaching for my pocket before I remembered it was empty. "I am¡­ though I''m a bit short on¡­"


    "Money?" She chuckled, a hint of irony in her tone, as though she''d heard it all before. Her gaze drifted to the bartender, who was wiping down the counter with a rag that looked like it had seen better days. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a murmur. "People here trade all kinds of things¡ªskills, stories, even secrets."


    "Secrets?" I echoed, uncertain, but she only shrugged, her eyes glinting with a hint of amusement.


    "Everything has a price." She turned toward the bar. "Let me get you a drink this time. You look like you need one."


    I nodded, loosening my grip on the cloak as I followed her, threading my way through tables littered with empty glasses and ashen cigarette stubs. At the bar, she said something quietly to the bartender, who grunted and turned to reach for a bottle hidden toward the back of the shelf. A glass soon appeared in front of me, filled with amber liquid that shimmered in the dim light.


    The woman raised her own glass, holding it up to me in a casual toast. "To strangers and stories," she said, her gaze steady and unreadable.


    "To strangers and stories," I replied, raising the glass to meet hers.


    I shifted awkwardly, feeling the weight of her gaze as she took another slow sip, savoring her drink as though testing my patience or simply trying to make me uneasy. The liquid glistened as she set her glass back down, her eyes lingering on me with a faint glimmer of amusement.


    I reached out, resting my hand against the edge of the counter as I glanced down into my own untouched glass. The drink swirled inside, amber-colored and faintly shimmering under the bar lights, carrying that sharp, unmistakable scent of alcohol. The woman gave me an encouraging nod, her eyes watching with something between curiosity and mischief. She raised her brow, half-expecting, half-daring me to take a sip.


    The thought crossed my mind then¡ªno one was watching, no one to give me disapproving glances or forbid me from doing it. And yet, I hesitated, fingers brushing the glass but not lifting it. I''d grown up around people who drank whenever they pleased, housekeepers slipping flasks into aprons or offering liquor in crystal decanters to the adults who came and went like shadows through my life. It would have been easy, too easy, to just ask for a drink back then. And yet, I never did.


    The woman caught the pause and let out a soft, knowing laugh. "Well?" she prodded lightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass in a slow, absent circle.


    With a dry swallow, I finally picked up the glass, feeling its cool weight in my hand. She nodded approvingly, her smile widening just a bit, as though I''d passed some unspoken test. I raised the glass to my lips, inhaling the bitter, smoky scent, feeling my heart pound a little harder as I tipped it back and took a hesitant sip.


    The taste was sharp and biting, sending a warmth trickling down my throat that seemed to expand through my chest. I suppressed a small cough, the burn surprising and strange, but something in the warmth that followed was... comforting. I took another, smaller sip, letting the flavor linger this time, feeling the edge soften. My dry throat eased, the ache and grit washing away with that unfamiliar warmth.


    The woman laughed again, softer this time, a smile lighting her eyes. "Not bad, huh?"


    I shrugged, swallowing another sip, trying to disguise the unfamiliar feeling that this simple drink was giving me¡ªsomething like freedom, maybe, or the faintest taste of rebellion. For a moment, I let my shoulders relax, leaning back into the bar, letting the atmosphere fold around me. The low hum of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter, the clinking of glasses and shuffling of footsteps¡ªit was all strangely soothing.


    I glanced at the woman, who was watching me with a look of mild interest, her fingers still tracing the edge of her glass. She seemed at ease here, like she belonged in this haze of dim light and cigarette smoke, in this room filled with strangers sharing brief moments of connection.


    She tilted her head, her smile widening just slightly. "And as for the payment..."

 Whispers And Secrets

    "As for the payment, tell me how you got the cloak." Her voice was casual, almost too casual, but her eyes were sharp, honing in on me as if the answer would reveal something beyond what I intended. The cloak on me was hooded, its edges frayed yet pulsing with that faint neon glow, a slow rhythm that felt almost alive. Kael had claimed he''d spent his last coin on it, though I had my doubts even then. Now, under her scrutiny, those doubts stirred again. "A friend gave this to me," I replied, keeping my voice flat, steady.


    She tilted her head, watching me closely. "Who was it?" she pressed, her curiosity unmasked, and I could see her weighing the information, trying to piece something together. I simply shook my head, a silent refusal. Her lips pressed into a thin line, a flicker of disappointment flashing across her face before she masked it behind a neutral expression. "Does this make up for the drink?" I asked, a faint grin tugging at my mouth, testing her patience, hoping she''d let it slide.


    Her smile returned, sly and satisfied, like she''d won the exchange somehow. "Oh, yeah," she murmured. Without breaking eye contact, she reached into her pocket, pulled out a few coins, and flicked them onto the counter. They landed with a metallic clink, and the bartender swept them up in one smooth, practiced motion, not even sparing me a glance. "But," she added, her voice softening as she leaned back, "that''s the only free drink you''re getting from me."


    She made a move to leave, her attention drifting elsewhere. But something in me wouldn''t let her walk away that easily. "Hey," I called, my voice sharper than I intended. She turned, one eyebrow raised, a hint of curiosity returning to her expression.


    "You said we could trade stories," I reminded her, trying to keep my tone even, casual. "Equal worth for information, wasn''t it?"


    That same glint of interest returned to her eyes, and her lips curved into a smile. "So, you''ve got something worth sharing, huh?" she asked, her gaze challenging me, as if daring me to make it worth her time.


    "Yes." I hesitated, my fingers brushing the edge of the cloak, the strange, almost metallic fabric that held an unsettling weight. "This cloak. It''s special, isn''t it?" My voice was quiet, careful. I''d noticed things, small things¡ªthe way people''s eyes lingered on it, the strange looks it drew. If this cloak was sold openly, I would''ve seen more of them by now. But it seemed¡­ unique. The only other time I''d seen anything similar was on that man in the black suit, the one with the skull badge. His cloak had that same otherworldly shimmer, a quality that set it apart.


    Her face remained impassive, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of interest¡ªor perhaps recognition. She leaned in, lowering her voice, her tone laced with intrigue. "It''s not something you just buy," she murmured. "If your friend got it for you, then he''s someone who knows his way around."


    I felt a pang of doubt. If Kael had possessed this cloak all along, then why had he never used it? It was a strange thing to keep hidden, a resource wasted. He could''ve sold it for a fortune, or at the very least put it to use. But he''d given it to me, almost casually, and I couldn''t shake the feeling there was more to the story. And if he''d kept it a secret¡­ was it because he knew exactly what it was? Or, worse, what it might attract?


    Her eyes didn''t waver as I studied her, trying to gauge how much she knew¡ªor how much she''d be willing to share. Finally, I met her gaze, firm, unyielding, letting her see that I wasn''t one to be lied to.


    "If you tell me what I need to know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "then I''ll tell you who gave this to me."


    A gleam sparked in her eyes, her interest fully captured now. "So you''re not just a lost kid after all," she mused, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Alright," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and challenge. "Ask what you need to know."


    I leaned in, making sure no one else was listening. "Who are the men in black suits, the ones with skull badges?"


    For a heartbeat, the entire bar seemed to go silent. The bartender, who''d been wiping down the counter, froze, his hand suspended mid-motion. He muttered something under his breath, glanced at us, and quickly disappeared behind the bar, leaving the broken glass he''d dropped scattered across the floor.


    The woman''s smile faltered, her expression darkening. "How do you know about them?" she asked, her tone laced with something between caution and threat.


    "Is that your answer, or are you just stalling?" I replied calmly, refusing to back down. Her gaze flickered, something cold and calculating moving behind her eyes. She sighed, muttering under her breath, a slight edge of impatience slipping through.


    "Tch... fine. But this isn''t the place."


    Without another word, she tilted her head toward a shadowy hallway at the back of the bar. I caught a glimpse of some patrons eyeing us curiously, but she moved with such purpose that they quickly looked away, losing interest. I followed her down the narrow corridor, the loud hum of the bar fading to a distant thump, leaving us in a silence thick with anticipation. The walls were lined with empty crates and crates filled with dusty bottles, the occasional flickering bulb casting brief flashes of light over her shoulders as she moved. A strange chill clung to the air here, mingling with the stale scents of spilled liquor and dust, making each breath feel heavy.


    She pushed open a small door at the end of the hall, and we stepped inside. It was a cramped storage room, cluttered with unused chairs stacked haphazardly against the walls and shelves stacked with unopened boxes, their labels faded and peeling. The room was barely lit by the faint neon glow seeping through a tiny, grime-covered window high up on one wall. The thin sliver of light cast a dim, sickly pallor over everything, making shadows seem to shift along the walls.


    She leaned against the wall, positioning herself near the window with her arms crossed, her silhouette framed against the faint glow. Her gaze held mine, piercing, as though she were evaluating every choice I''d made to end up here, standing in front of her with a cloak that had clearly set off alarms.


    "So," she began in a low voice, her tone shifting to something serious, weighted. "You want to know about the ones in the black suits with skull badges."


    I nodded, holding her gaze, refusing to look away. There was no turning back now.


    "They call themselves the Sable Order," she said slowly, each word dropping like a stone. Her voice was quiet, but the caution behind it was unmistakable, as though even speaking their name risked drawing unwanted attention. "They''re not just any street gang. The Sable Order is something more dangerous¡ªsomething older, more rooted. They''re the city''s shadow, moving beneath the surface, keeping out of sight until they decide it''s time to make themselves known. They keep to the edges of the Cybercity, the alleys, the forgotten corners where the neon doesn''t quite reach."


    She paused, her eyes shifting from my face to the cloak draped around my shoulders, the faint pulse of its neon trim casting brief glints in her eyes. "Your friend didn''t just stumble on this, you know. Sable Order gear doesn''t show up in markets. It''s theirs, exclusively. Either he''s connected to them¡­ or he stole it." Her words hung in the air, each one twisting in my mind, bringing an uncomfortable weight that settled heavily on my chest. If Kael was involved with these people, this Sable Order, then he''d taken risks I couldn''t even begin to understand. The memory of his nonchalant smile when he handed me the cloak now seemed like something else, something guarded, a flicker of something more beneath his easy demeanor.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "And you," she continued, her voice softer but laced with a hint of sympathy that made her words land heavier, "you''re either incredibly bold or incredibly foolish for walking around in it. There are people in this city who''d see that cloak and take it as a challenge, or worse¡ªa threat."


    I glanced down at the cloak, its glow now feeling like a beacon in the murky dimness of the room. "What exactly are they?" I asked, my voice low, though a strange heat had risen within me. "The Sable Order. What''s their purpose?"


    She tilted her head, studying me, perhaps weighing how much to tell. "They''re the city''s enforcers," she replied after a moment, her tone laden with something close to bitterness. "They don''t answer to anyone¡ªnot the game, not the citizens. They''re their own law, their own rule. And their brand of order¡­ it''s harsh, unforgiving. They''re not here to keep peace¡ªthey''re here to maintain a balance, one that keeps the Cybercity''s darkest secrets hidden, even if it means blood is spilled. People cross them, people disappear. Simple as that."


    Her gaze returned to the cloak, and for a moment, I thought she looked almost¡­ pensive, her eyes darkened by some memory. "And that cloak," she murmured, almost as if speaking to herself, "it''s more than just a piece of clothing. It''s a symbol, a message, one that''ll catch the wrong eyes if you''re not careful."


    I shifted, the weight of the cloak now feeling heavier, oppressive. "Why would my friend have it, then? Why would he even risk giving it to me if it''s this dangerous?"


    Her gaze softened, almost pitying. "Maybe he wanted you to understand something," she said, voice tinged with a strange sorrow. "Or maybe he wanted you to take his place. Either way, you''re tangled up in it now."


    The room seemed to close in around us, the silence thickening, settling heavily over me as her words took root. This was more than a cloak, more than a favor from a friend. It was a connection, a tie to something I didn''t fully understand yet, but something that now seemed unavoidable.


    Currently, I had nothing to do with the Sable Order. I''d come to this city for one purpose: to find a rune. But now that I''d heard their name, it seemed I was knee-deep in trouble without even knowing it.


    "So, tell me¡ªwho gave you that cloak?" Her gaze was unyielding, every word laced with something sharper than curiosity. "Who is this ''friend'' of yours?" She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, a hint of a threat lingering in her tone. "And don''t try lying. My rune lets me distinguish between true and false information. Doesn''t matter if it''s something I see, hear, even a stray thought¡ªit''s all fair game." She crossed her arms. "I was going to hunt your friend down myself, but since you''ve put yourself right in front of me, you just made things easier."


    I felt a chill, though I kept my expression blank. She didn''t seem to be bluffing. If she could really sense truth and lies, my only choice was to be careful, even if it meant giving her a name.


    "His name is Kael," I said at last, keeping my tone even, careful not to reveal anything more. Just his name. For now, that was all I was willing to give up.


    She studied me, golden eyes narrowing with a mixture of satisfaction and suspicion, like a predator who''d found its prey but was still weighing its options. The slight smirk playing at her lips suggested her rune had verified my words, but it didn''t make her any less dangerous. The silence hung between us, thick and tense. When she finally eased back, her gaze softened just a fraction, but the gleam of a hunter still lingered.


    I swallowed, my mind racing, piecing together fragments of conversations, stray looks, and the weight Kael had carried when he handed me this cloak. Why had he given it to me? Did he know it would draw this kind of attention, mark me as some kind of target? Did he expect me to use it to get close to the Sable Order, to thread my way into the shadows of this city''s underworld? Or¡­ was I just a pawn, disposable, here to stir the pot and draw out whatever he needed? The suspicion sank in like a cold dagger to the gut. The anger began to simmer¡ªanger at Kael, at myself for walking into this blindly, at the woman who seemed all too eager to twist the screws.


    Garron''s absence flashed through my mind, a strange detail now magnified. If this was a setup, where was he in all of it? Kael had handed me this cloak, and I''d accepted it without a second thought, but now every detail felt calculated, intentional. The silence around Kael, the shadows Garron had slipped into, the cloak that seemed to catch the attention of everyone in this cursed city.


    My thoughts came to a halt as the woman shifted, her golden eyes glinting with a mix of intrigue and something else, something dangerous, as though she knew the trap I''d fallen into better than I did.


    But it wasn''t over. She suddenly pushed me aside and pressed her ear against the door, urgency radiating from her. I stumbled backward, crashing into dusty chairs and boxes of wine stacked haphazardly in the cramped storage room. The cloak wrapped around me absorbed most of the impact when my back hit the ground, but I still felt the jolt resonate through my body. At first, I thought she was making a run for it, trying to escape through the door, but that wasn''t the case at all. She was intent on listening, straining to hear what was happening on the other side.


    A feeling of dread washed over me as I observed the tension in her body, the way her forehead glistened with sweat. I pushed myself up, brushing off the dust as I whispered, "What''s going on?" My voice felt too loud in the thick silence, but I needed answers.


    She hesitated, her expression a mask of concentration. Finally, her lips parted, and she spoke, her voice low and tight, "They''re here."


    Confusion and shock collided within me, sending my thoughts spiraling. Who was "they"? I instinctively moved toward the wall, searching for a glimpse of whatever danger loomed outside. I remembered a tiny hole I had noticed when I first entered. I pressed my eye against it, but the darkness outside loomed heavily, the faint neon lights casting eerie shadows.


    I leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse of the chaos unfolding beyond the door. Straining my ears against the opening, I heard muffled noises¡ªrustling, distant screams, and an unsettling sound that resembled liquid sizzling against something hot. Panic surged through me as I pulled away, my heart pounding. "What should we do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.


    She shot me a scathing look, her eyes filled with determination. "We? Who''s ''we''? I''m getting out of here. Whether you die or not is none of my problem." I should have expected that response, yet it stung all the same. My mind raced, trying to figure out my next move as adrenaline coursed through my veins.


    Before I could muster a response, she seized a stool from the corner and smashed it against the window with a loud crash, shards of glass scattering across the floor like tiny stars. Without a moment''s hesitation, she hopped out, her movements fluid and swift. I stood frozen for a moment, the choice weighing heavily on me¡ªshould I follow her into the unknown?


    Just then, I instinctively pulled the cloak closer to my face, feeling it expand to cover my nose, eyes, and ears. The fabric felt alive, cocooning me in its embrace. Despite my eyes being sealed, I could still see, and even though my ears were covered, I could hear the chaos outside, muffled yet distinct. There was no time to process what had just happened; I had to act.


    In a heartbeat, I jumped through the broken window, the ground rushing up to meet me. It was lower than I had expected, and I rolled as I landed, the cloak cushioning my fall and silencing my movements. I got to my feet quickly, scanning the surroundings for the woman, but she had vanished into the night, leaving me alone in the unsettling silence.


    The dim light from the neon signs was gone, plunging everything into darkness. I glanced around, searching for any sign of life or a potential escape route. The streets felt eerily quiet, as if the city itself was holding its breath. Then, from the depths of the shadows, figures began to emerge, their forms outlined by faint, pulsating lights that glowed like veins beneath their skin¡ªan unsettling sight, reminiscent of my own suit.


    I felt my heart race as they closed in around me, the air thickening with an unspoken threat. I turned, trying to find an escape, but the shadows closed in too quickly. It was as if they had anticipated my every move. Just then, a man stepped out of the darkness behind me, and I froze in place.


    He wore a sleek black and violet suit, the fabric clinging to his form like a second skin. The skull badge on his waist gleamed ominously, a stark reminder of the danger that lurked within the Sable Order. My breath hitched in my throat as I realized I was completely surrounded, and the weight of the moment settled heavily on my shoulders. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but I was rooted to the spot, unable to move as dread washed over me.

 A Glimpse Into The Unseen

    I was surrounded, the man with the skull emblem looming directly in front of me. Shadows closed in on all sides, faint lights pulsing under their skin like veins, each figure shrouded in an unnatural darkness that seemed to swallow the dim city glow. I scanned the area, but there wasn''t a single soul beyond them. The part of the city I''d stumbled into felt like it had been swallowed whole, sealed off from reality, leaving me and these figures alone in the night.


    I realized with a start that the pulse in my chest had faded. The warmth of my rune had vanished, leaving an odd chill behind. But there was something else¡­ something warm, wet. I glanced down to find blood seeping from beneath my cloak. Blood? I clutched the fabric to reveal my chest¡ªwhere my rune should have been. But instead of the familiar glow, there was only an open wound, blood trickling out, staining the inside of my cloak. And yet, despite all the gore, the pain was barely there, more like a dull, distant ache.


    The cloak seemed to sense the injury. It tightened against my chest, threads stitching, trying to seal the wound, drawing my blood back in to restore me. But my mind could barely grasp what was happening before a shadow appeared at my right, gliding past me as if I didn''t exist. In its hand, it held a yellow stone. My rune.


    The shadow passed the stone to the man with the skull emblem. He took it, turning it in his hand as if it were no more than a trivial object. Dull and lifeless, the rune no longer pulsed like it had when it was with me. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze unreadable.


    "What a surprise," he said finally, his voice flat, devoid of any hint of malice or kindness. "Not only do you wear the cloak of the Sable Order¡­ but one that belonged to the Seventh Master."


    The title struck me, foreign and hollow. I had no idea what he meant. The cloak had belonged to The Sable Order. I''d known it was tied to them, but this "Seventh Master" was a name I hadn''t heard before. I swallowed, searching for words.


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about," I stammered, keeping my voice steady despite the terror coiling in my gut. "This cloak was given to me by a friend. I don''t know anything about the ''Seventh Master.''" I tried to sound unthreatening, submissive, hoping it would be enough. "I¡­ I can give it back to you. Take it and the rune. Just¡­ spare me, please."


    He looked at me, dispassionate, as if weighing my words before his gaze flickered dismissively. "Not only do you possess the cloak of the Seventh Master," he continued, as if I hadn''t spoken, "but also a rune that emits zero aura. It''s no wonder you went unnoticed for so long."


    His indifference chilled me. He wasn''t even considering my offer to hand over the cloak and the rune. The shadows moved again, and another figure materialized behind him, carrying something¡ªor rather, someone.


    I froze, my breath catching as I recognized her¡ªthe woman from the bar. Blood streaked her face, her bandages torn and stained. Her once-bright eyes were glazed, half-open but vacant. She was still breathing, though barely. My stomach twisted at the sight.


    The shadow holding her spoke up. "She said this cloak was given to him by someone named Kael. The memory alteration was successful," he added, his voice empty, clinical.


    The skull-emblemed man nodded. "Good. Transport her to the other side of the southern city. Leave her in the street and make it look as though she''s simply drunk."


    The shadow obeyed without hesitation, lifting her limp body and disappearing into the night, as if she were nothing more than a task to complete. I forced myself not to react, suppressing the guilt and anger that rose inside me. They were efficient, emotionless, treating lives like tools and disposing of them when they were no longer needed.


    I glanced down, trying to shield my own expression. Was this where it would end for me too?


    The man turned his cold gaze on me, and I could feel something shifting behind me. Before I could react, a shadow materialized and placed a hand on my back. In one swift motion, it stripped the cloak from my body. The half-sewn wound on my chest began to split open, slowly, methodically, as though savoring the moment. Blood started seeping out, and this time, there was no barrier between me and the pain.


    A scream tore from my throat, raw and desperate. It was unlike anything I''d ever experienced, a pain that went beyond mere injury. If the hammer-like agony I''d felt in the forest had been unbearable, this was that and more¡ªa hammer crashing into my chest, but with sharp iron nails digging into the flesh beneath. I crumpled to my knees, clutching my chest, my fingers slipping on my own blood as I tried, pointlessly, to stop the wound from gaping further. My scream echoed, bouncing off the empty buildings around me, but I was barely conscious of the sound. All I knew was that I wanted it to stop. Death, if it would mean an end to this, was suddenly a welcome thought.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Dimly, I was aware of the man with the skull badge issuing orders, his voice cold and unfeeling as he spoke to the shadows around him.


    "Alter his memory," he said, his words precise, mechanical. "Make him mentally unstable. Erase his ability to speak, make him forget anyone he''s known, make him forget this city, this level¡­ this game." He paused. "Seal the wound enough to look like it was fought over, then transport him to where the woman was left. Make it look like a lovers'' quarrel gone bad. Cleanse the cloak and return it to Master Five. Dismiss."


    I barely registered any of it; it was just a distant hum of syllables against the pounding in my skull. But then, something sharp, agonizing, pierced the back of my neck, and everything faded to black. The pain vanished, replaced by a numb, empty darkness, and my last thread of thought dissolved.


    The pain was gone, and the city had vanished. I was back¡ªback to the void. Darkness stretched around me, boundless, impenetrable. Silence swallowed everything. I couldn''t hear a thing, couldn''t see anything but the shadows pressing in on me. So, I sat, staring into the blackness beneath, only to see something startling in return¡ªmy reflection.


    It was strange, ironic even, seeing myself in the depths of nothing. But the face staring back was not quite mine. It had changed. My skin looked thinner, less pale, as though something had settled within it, something solid. My eyes were dark, so dark they were nearly black, void of the warmth of the brown I remembered. My hair was longer, falling around my neck in uneven strands, unkempt and worn. Beneath my eyes, dull shadows spread, and my cheekbones stood out more prominently than before, giving me a hardened, more mature look.


    I reached a hand out, watching as the reflection rippled, dissolving back into the darkness. Alone again, I sat in silence. Though I hadn''t fully understood what the man had said, I knew something within me had been changed, warped. They''d altered my memories. I wouldn''t be who I once was¡ªwhatever they''d left of me would be just enough to roam the streets like some lost shadow, wandering through the poorest part of the cybercity, the southern slums.


    I let out a mirthless laugh, echoing back from the depths around me. A "lovers'' quarrel," he''d said. What a joke. All my life in my world, I''d known only emptiness. No family. No friends. No one who truly cared. A life without purpose, without connection. But was this new fate any better? Wandering endlessly with an injury that would never quite heal, trapped in a city that didn''t care if I lived or died. And in that bleak realization, I thought about the only people I''d known in this world¡ªthe old man, my only friend Daniel. I could only hope they were safe.


    But there was no escape for me. The cursed "immortality" they''d forced on me would keep me alive, my body clinging to the smallest threads of life even as my spirit faded. I''d be stuck in the streets of the cybercity, suffering for eternity, waiting for the blood to finally drain my life away. I couldn''t take it. A sob caught in my throat, and I cried, hot, silent tears slipping down my face. I was afraid, terrified. I didn''t want this¡ªI didn''t want to die. Not like this.


    "No¡­" I whimpered, a broken plea in the vast emptiness. "I don''t want to die." But there was no one to hear me, no one to help. Soon, there would be no one left who even remembered me. I screamed, filling the void with raw, agonized cries, over and over until my voice should have given out. But it didn''t, as if I were cursed to scream forever, the sound hollow against the unyielding darkness.


    At last, my strength faded. I fell to my knees, hands pressed to the cold nothingness beneath me, and my eyes grew heavy. This was it. When I closed my eyes now, I would lose the last fragments of myself. I would be gone, spirit erased, consciousness snuffed out like a flickering candle. No light, no life. Just a hollow echo in the dark.


    My eyes were closed, but my consciousness lingered, like a stubborn ember in the ashes. I''d expected it to fade, to slip away like a whisper in the void. But it didn''t. Instead, a faint light danced behind my closed lids, pulsing softly, like the warmth of a dawn piercing through the thick of night.


    Curiosity stirred within me, and I opened my eyes. Suspended in the air was a ball of light, wavering as if it, too, had a heartbeat. Without thinking, my hands reached toward it, fingers wrapping around the radiance. The light dimmed, peeling back like mist to reveal something resting in my palm. I sat up slowly, cradling it, feeling the soft hum of energy within.


    Opening my hand, I saw it clearly: a metallic eye, framed in sleek purple metal with a jewel at its center¡ªa flawless, iridescent violet, like the edge of twilight. I knew instantly what it was. A Rune. It shimmered, and as if it were alive, its glow intensified, washing over the void in a brilliant purple fa?ade. The emptiness filled with light, illuminating shadows that stretched and shifted, retreating from the eye''s powerful gaze.


    ¡­and then, everything disappeared. The glow consumed me, drawing me into its depths until there was nothing but the silence of the abyss, and the sensation of being unbound, of slipping through the cracks of reality itself.


    In the final moment before the world fully vanished, I felt an odd calmness, as though the light had whispered something only my soul could hear¡ªa quiet promise or perhaps an invitation. Then, like mist burned away by dawn, I was simply gone.


    And yet¡­ there was a sense, a fragment of awareness that lingered, like the faintest glimmer in the endless dark.

 Pursuit

    And yet again, I wake up¡ªin the filthiest part of the city, the southern slums, surrounded by hollow-eyed drifters, players with shattered dreams, aimlessly lingering like forgotten specters. But somehow, unlike them, my memories are intact. I don''t feel confusion, nor panic. My mind is calm; my heart beats steadily. It''s as if... as if I''m standing at the very peak of the game itself. Everything seems sharper, more precise. There''s no fear, no disgust, nothing at all. I''m here, merely an observer.


    "Stop daydreaming," a voice snaps, cutting through my thoughts. It''s a girl, a bit older than me, standing close by, waving her hand in front of my face as if I were blind.


    "Yes, I can see you," I reply, meeting her gaze. But in that instant, reality hits me. I''m in the neglected, forgotten part of the cybercity, where they sent me to be erased, stripped of all memories. And yet, here I am¡ªwhole, aware. And so is she. Despite the bruises, the torn bandages, and her clothes barely holding together, she seems fine. Meanwhile, I''m shirtless, with only pants clinging to me. Oddly, I feel stronger, as if this isn''t even my body from my world¡ªmy abs are faintly defined, my muscles more pronounced.


    "How is it that you still remember everything?" I ask her, curious but cautious.


    She raises an eyebrow. "Didn''t I just explain that to you?" she retorts.


    I blinked. "Guess my mind''s still a little hazy. Could you... explain it once more?"


    She hesitates, then sighs. "Alright, for the third time¡ªit''s because of my rune, Mindseer. It erased the false memories and revealed the truth hidden within. That''s why I remember."


    I understood her words, but they carried a strange weight, as if I were only half-aware of what she meant. What did she mean by "third time"? And how could she say she''d already explained this? To my senses, I''d just regained consciousness, yet I was somehow standing here, speaking, as if I''d been here all along.


    "Hello?" she pressed, a look of irritation crossing her face. "I asked you a question. Are you going to answer me or not?"


    But again, her question seemed unfamiliar, as if her words were meant for someone else entirely. Was she speaking to me, or someone I didn''t even know existed? My forehead began to sweat despite the biting cold that clung to the shadowed streets.


    "Uh¡­ I don''t remember what you asked. Could you¡­ repeat that?" I forced the words out, uncertain of what was happening. Her expression turned darker, laced with suspicion.


    "How do you still have your memories? How is that possible? The Sable Order wouldn''t have let you walk away with any memories intact, much less unchanged. And if they did alter your memories, how can you still remember me? My name?" She was genuinely annoyed now, her frustration barely masked by her confusion.


    I had no idea what she was talking about. After the moment they''d taken my rune, everything was a blur. Her name? I didn''t even know her name, let alone why she thought I should. Part of me wanted to confess everything¡ªto tell her whoever she''d been talking to wasn''t me, not really. But then again, something in her demeanor hinted that she''d been working with me, that she needed me to be someone she knew. Would she still help me if she thought I was someone else?


    I took a deep breath. "Look, I¡­ I can''t remember anything that happened up until now. My rune¡ªit was taken by the Order. I have a¡­" I stopped, hand instinctively clutching at my chest. But the gaping wound, the blood, the raw edges of torn flesh¡ªall of it was gone. I stared down, bewildered. "I swear¡­ it was there."


    She watched me carefully, her eyes narrowing. She looked at me as though I''d lost my mind.


    "Are you in your right mind? You''re talking and acting differently, just like when we first met." Her tone softened, doubt creeping in. "Wait¡­ did they mess with your mind? Did they do something to you?"


    "I''m fine," I said, trying to sound convincing, though even I didn''t believe it. "It''s just¡­ I''m not entirely myself right now. I need a minute¡ªjust a couple of minutes, that''s all."


    She looked less concerned about me and more about the consequences. "Fine," she sighed. "But we don''t have much time. We need to reach your friends."


    Friends? The word felt foreign.


    Her irritation flared. "The trio you mentioned¡ªKael and the others. You said they hold the key to bringing down the Order, and that you need to be there for it to happen."


    I felt cold sweat trickling down my back. When had any of this happened? "Right," I said, playing along as best I could, struggling to mask my confusion.


    She eyed me suspiciously, then added, "I''ll give you a minute. Get your head straight and find some clothes¡ªor at least more bandages. We have a job to do." With that, she turned and slipped into the streets, leaving me alone.


    I took in a shaky breath, clutching my head. My thoughts felt like shattered glass, sharp edges cutting through any attempt at clarity. Destroy the Sable Order? A key? Kael? None of it made sense, yet it sounded as though it should.


    Somehow, I''d been plunged into someone else''s reality¡ªone I could barely comprehend. I''d been made into someone else.


    I took a deep breath, steadying myself. The cold gnawed at me, but my mind spun with a thousand questions, each one more desperate than the last. If I could reach Kael and Zara, there might be a way out of this. I remembered Kael saying they''d be out shopping, probably in the northern part of the city. But there was no certainty. The northeast quadrant was home to the wealthiest¡ªtop players, high-ranking officials, people with resources far beyond my reach. The northwest, though, was more feasible. That was where the common folk gathered, merchants, and regular citizens who kept the city running.


    Still, a part of me felt betrayed, and I couldn''t shake it. If Kael had given me that cloak, knowingly handing me something that would put me in this much danger, what else was he hiding? And if I couldn''t trust him, where did that leave me with Zara? She''d been with us since the beginning, yet now, with the events unraveling, I felt a sharp doubt twist inside me. I had no way to know if anyone was truly on my side. Only one thing was clear: I was on my own, alone in the southern district''s filthy streets, haunted by shadows and second-guesses.


    I leaned against the wall, the minutes stretching into an endless silence as I wrestled with the dark possibilities. Each thought became graver, spiraling deeper. Escape, betrayal, survival¡ªthey collided in my mind, forming a singular, hopeless idea. What if I just¡­ ended it? It would be so simple. A quick release from this cruel game, this twisted cycle of memory and erasure. But a faint ember of resistance flared within me, stopping the thought in its tracks. No¡ªsomething kept me anchored, something that whispered I had more to do, even if it was unclear what or why.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The idea lingered, a suspicion more than a certainty. Was something guiding me? Another presence within me, nudging me down a path I couldn''t yet see? I didn''t know. But as strange as it sounded, that thought alone was enough to steady me.


    I was still lost in this haze when the woman returned, snapping me back to reality. She''d rewrapped her bandages, though they were loose and stained, and she carried a worn brown coat. She didn''t look at me as she tossed it over. "Here. You''ll need it," she said flatly, but there was a glint of something beneath her words¡ªlike she was testing me.


    Only then did I realize how numb I''d grown to the cold. I pulled the coat on, the rough fabric scratching against my skin, but the warmth sank in almost immediately. I could feel her gaze on me, a sharp assessment, as if she was scanning me for fractures or signs of weakness. "I hope you''re actually in your right mind this time," she muttered, her tone half-concerned, half-skeptical.


    I forced a grin. "You bet," I replied, though I wasn''t sure if she believed me.


    She paused, watching me for a moment longer, then nodded. "Good. Then let''s get moving¡ªto the northeastern part of the city."


    I stilled, feeling an icy dread curl around my spine. The northeast. Of course it would be there, the most dangerous, most visible place¡ªthe one region swarming with the city''s elite, a place someone like me would have no hope of passing through unnoticed. It was where the rules changed, where I''d be scrutinized at every corner, yet it was also my only way forward. I forced myself to swallow the unease and managed a strained smile, the weight of it pressing against my chest.


    "Let''s go," I said, as if I had any choice in the matter.


    She smiled, though it was more of a reflex than genuine amusement. "So how do we get there?" I asked, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice, but it wasn''t easy. The northern side was a hell of a distance away, and every step I took felt like dragging my body through mud. There was no way I could walk that far¡ªnot like this.


    She froze, blinking as if I had just spoken in a language she didn''t quite understand. "Huh?"


    Of course. Of course. We had no plan. No idea. The city stretched endlessly in front of us, and I was no closer to figuring out how we were going to make it through. The weight of the unknown pressed in, the unfamiliar streets and unfamiliar rules. How could we even begin to figure this out?


    "Shouldn''t you know?" She asked.


    "How the fuck should I know? This is my first time coming here."


    We both sat in silence, leaning against a flickering light pole, its faint buzz breaking through the stillness around us. Between us, a puddle had gathered from some unknown source, reflecting the dull glow of the light overhead. I watched the water ripple as I absently traced patterns across its surface with my fingers, trying to let the motion help me think. But it was pointless¡ªmy mind was blank, every idea slipping through my fingers as quickly as the water beneath them.


    Her smile had vanished, and now, she seemed far less sure of herself. In the smoky bar earlier, she''d seemed untouchable, a mature woman with an edge. Now, here, stranded in the heart of this decayed city, she looked different. Less like someone who had everything under control, and more like¡­well, someone as lost as me. Maybe my supposed familiarity with her name was enough to throw her off her game¡ªor maybe it was something else. Whatever the case, I got the feeling there was a grudge brewing beneath her calm exterior, and I''d bet my last ounce of patience that it was directed at the Order.


    But if she didn''t know a way to the northern side¡­ we were in trouble. I could already feel the tension of time tightening around us. The Order wasn''t going to leave us alone, not after everything. And Kael¡­ I didn''t even want to think about what would happen to him if he was caught. We didn''t have the luxury to sit around.


    "Don''t you have any cars or trucks? Or some other gadget we could use?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, though I could feel the impatience creeping in.


    I hadn''t noticed before, but she was holding a small, sleek vape. She took a long drag and blew out the smoke, a faint look of amusement playing across her face. "Do I look like some rich hooker with an inventory full of cash?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the ruins around us. "We aren''t in the Eastern Province here, you know. Cars, bikes¡ªthat''s a luxury. This side of the city''s got nothing but rot and remnants of what used to be, and if there''s anything living here, it''s either too scared to crawl out, or too far gone to help."


    She wasn''t wrong. The place was a wasteland, an abandoned carcass where the shadows of forgotten people lingered. The buildings, crumbling as if their very bones had decayed, stood around us like gravestones, and I couldn''t shake the feeling that we were being watched. If the Order had eyes here, they could be on us right now. I shoved the thought aside and stood up, dusting myself off.


    "Where do you think you''re going?" she asked, her voice edged with mild irritation.


    "Do you expect me to sit here waiting, while we don''t even know if the others are still alive?" I met her gaze, my own frustration flaring up. She didn''t reply, just took another drag on her vape, blowing out a slow stream of smoke.


    "I''ll go look for something," I muttered.


    She rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, because random vehicles are just gonna show up in front of you. That''s realistic."


    I smirked back. "Well, things usually end up working my way. Don''t be surprised if I come back with a bike."


    She just shook her head, half-amused, half-resigned. And without waiting for her to respond, I turned and walked off, heading deeper into the desolate maze of rubble and shadows. I''d figure something out¡ªanything that might get us closer to the northern side.


    I wandered through the dead streets, tracing paths I didn''t know, half-expecting to find some trace of direction that I could follow. The city map was a mystery to me, and every corner I turned was as unfamiliar as the last. Shadows of other players drifted across my path, some slouched against walls, others crawling or just lying motionless on the ground, alive but blank-eyed, as if their minds had long since left them. A hollow sight, but I didn''t feel anything for them¡ªwas it because I saw them as nothing more than NPCs in this twisted game? I didn''t know, and I didn''t stop to think about it.


    Time dragged as I wandered, every step sinking deeper into the reality that I was going in circles, trapped in a place that had no end. Half an hour must have passed before I finally stopped, my legs giving way as I slumped onto the ground. Exhausted, I sat there, staring up at the sky, which stretched dark and starless above me. There was no guiding light, nothing to suggest a way out.


    I closed my eyes, almost amused at the absurdity of it all. What if I just slept here? Maybe I''d wake up in my own bed tomorrow, maybe this was all some feverish nightmare. I let myself smile, just a faint flicker of hope, however foolish.


    But then, cutting through the silence, I heard a strange buzz. My eyes snapped open, and I squinted up at the broken streetlight above me. It was flickering, its faint hum drilling into the stillness, each flash like a tick of a relentless clock.


    I sighed, shaking my head, ready to stand up again¡ªwhen something caught my eye. Down the street, half-hidden in the shadows of a narrow alleyway, was a faint, pulsing glow. It was so dim it was almost impossible to see, but it was there, unmistakably. Like the soft rhythm of a heartbeat, calling through the ruins. It was the only thing that looked remotely alive in this desolate city.


    I didn''t think twice. I bolted toward it, a glimmer of hope blooming in my chest. The glow grew stronger as I neared, guiding me like a beacon through the darkness. I could almost feel my pulse quickening, a strange mixture of relief and desperation propelling me forward. When I reached the end of the alley, there it was¡ªbrimming with a steady, otherworldly light against the crumbling wall of a half-collapsed building.


    A portal. The same kind that had brought me here.


    And this time, it wasn''t shrinking. It was holding, like it was waiting for someone. If only this portal could take us north¡­ I didn''t waste another second, turning on my heel and sprinting back toward her. I could feel the unbidden grin stretching across my face, my mind racing.


    When I finally reached her, she looked up, eyes narrowed. "What? Why do you look so happy?" she said, a smirk crossing her face. "Did you find a broken bike? A poster maybe?"


    I laughed, unable to contain it. "Something better," I said, catching my breath. "A portal."


    Her eyes widened, and for once, her usual calm was replaced with genuine surprise. "You''re serious?"


    "As serious as it gets."


    Without another word, she got up, a flicker of anticipation lighting her face.

 Rebirth I

    I had a lot of questions and confusion in my mind. How come my memories weren''t altered? The person I was an hour ago. The brimming portal, which shouldn''t even exist unless summoned by the top men of the Sable Order. The supposed betrayal, the hole in my chest¡ªall of it weighed heavily on me. But the most logical thing I could do was go with the flow. I had no influence, no power to change my circumstances.


    We ran towards the portal without catching our breath. The woman stayed close behind, her face unreadable. I hadn''t even asked for her name yet, and somehow, I felt like I shouldn''t. What I did know was that she harbored a grudge against the Sable Order. A deep one, it seemed. The kind of hatred that could drive a person to sacrifice everything. It wasn''t my place to pry, not now.


    The streets around us were a surreal nightmare, filled with mindless bodies that wandered aimlessly. Shadows of players¡ªcrawling, lying on the ground, existing with dead minds. I felt no pity for them. Was it because I saw them as NPCs? Or was I too detached, too consumed by my own survival? In truth, I wasn''t that different from them. I had no goal, no allies in this world, and a mind plagued with unanswered questions. The only thing that set me apart was the ability to think and make decisions¡ªthough whether the choices I''d made so far were the right ones was a matter of debate. Still, they''d kept me alive.


    We reached the portal. It stood steady and brimming with aura, its shimmering surface pulsing faintly.


    "How is it stable?" she asked, her voice breaking the tense silence.


    I shook my head.


    "Only the Sable Order or people with cyber cloaks can summon these. If one is here, that means the Order might be nearby¡ªor someone powerful enough to create it."


    The real decision now was whether to enter it. The portal wasn''t shrinking; it gave us time to think. But time wasn''t on our side¡ªnot if we had any hope of saving the others.


    I looked at her and gave a gentle nod.


    She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing something in her mind, then nodded. I took the lead, stepping closer to the shimmering gate. My foot crossed the threshold, and the world around me dissolved into pure light.


    For a moment, my mind went blank. Every sensation evaporated until I felt myself pulled through and deposited on solid ground. When I opened my eyes, the scene before me couldn''t have been more different from the desolation we had left behind.


    Towers rose high into the sky, their gleaming surfaces polished to a mirror-like finish. Lights pulsed through the buildings like flowing veins, casting a faint glow that illuminated the streets below. Suspended walkways crisscrossed the skyline, their glass floors shimmering as streams of energy coursed through them. Above, air-borne vehicles glided silently, sleek crafts that left faint trails of light in their wake.


    The roads beneath our feet were flawless¡ªsmooth, unmarked, and reflective, catching the light from the bright advertisements hovering above. Holographic billboards flashed animated figures and messages in a language I couldn''t read. Automated kiosks lined the sidewalks, their screens glowing faintly with maps and endless broadcasts. The air was different here¡ªcrisp and sterile, with a metallic tang that clung to the back of my throat.


    But the most unsettling part wasn''t the technology or the advancements. It was the silence. For all its magnificence, the entire northeastern province was devoid of life. No footsteps echoed down the streets. No voices carried through the air. Only the faint hum of energy coursing through the structures and the occasional whir of vehicles overhead broke the oppressive quiet.


    She emerged from the portal behind me, her presence cutting through my unease. A small wave of relief washed over me; at least I wasn''t alone. Yet even with her here, something about this place gnawed at me, an invisible weight pressing down on my chest. It felt like we were being watched, though there was no one to do the watching.


    "It''s¡­ so quiet," she whispered.


    "Yeah," I muttered, my gaze drifting upward to the towering spires that scraped the heavens. This was the richest part of the city, advanced beyond anything I''d ever imagined. But without people, it felt hollow. Devoid of purpose.


    Dark clouds hung heavy in the sky, yet there was no rain. Even so, the streets glistened as if freshly drenched, reflecting the neon green and blue lights of the buildings. Puddles pooled in uneven patches, scattered across the otherwise pristine pavement. Something felt wrong.


    I crouched down to inspect the liquid.


    "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tight.


    Ignoring her, I extended a hand and dipped my fingers into the puddle. It clung to my skin, viscous and unnervingly warm. Under the artificial glow of the towers, its color was hard to place. I brought it closer to my nose.


    The sharp tang of iron hit me like a punch.


    I stood slowly, my stomach twisting.


    "It''s blood," I said, the words flat but heavy.


    She took a step back. "What?"


    My eyes scanned the streets again, this time paying attention to the ground rather than the glittering skyline. And there it was. I''d missed it before, distracted by the towering lights and the allure of a utopian facade.


    Blood. It was everywhere.


    It painted the streets in thick, glistening trails, pooling in places, streaking in others. And scattered across the ground weren''t cars or bustling life, but bodies¡ªsome whole, others dismembered, crushed, and grotesque.


    The contrast was staggering. Above us, the city reached skyward like a vision of heaven, an advanced paradise of light and steel. But down here, we stood in hell.


    I didn''t look at her. There was no point. Whatever expression she wore wouldn''t change the reality around us. I''d seen death before¡ªthe southern slums reeked of it. But this¡­ this was something else.


    The stench hit me like a physical force, heavy and sickly sweet. I''d been to my mother''s hospital as a child, seen the broken and the dying wheeled through its sterile halls. Missing limbs, shattered bodies, even the occasional corpse. I thought I''d built some immunity to the grotesque. But this wasn''t the same. This wasn''t orderly or contained.


    This was ruin.


    Without my rune to anchor me, I swayed on my feet, my stomach threatening to give way. Still, I moved forward, one step at a time, refusing to falter. I didn''t ask her to follow, didn''t even check if she did. It wasn''t something I could demand of anyone¡ªnot even her.


    The blood clung to my soles, viscous and warm, leaving faint imprints as I walked. Above, the drones and aircraft continued their mechanical routines, oblivious. Below, the ground told a story the skies didn''t care to acknowledge.


    The first bodies I passed were civilians. Their faces were still¡ªsome frozen in terror, others slack with the quiet permanence of death. Children, parents, the elderly¡ªno one was spared. It was methodical, precise. This wasn''t chaos; it was execution.


    For a moment, I thought I knew what I was seeing. The Sable Order¡ªonly they had the reach, the power, to orchestrate something on this scale. The very idea of it brought a bitter taste to my mouth.


    But then I saw them.


    The uniforms were unmistakable, their black fabric and polished masks instantly recognizable. These weren''t victims. They were predators. Members of the Order, lying in heaps¡ªtorn, broken, rendered into unrecognizable masses of flesh. Some were scattered like debris, others crushed into the ground as if the earth itself had risen to swallow them whole.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    It didn''t make sense.


    A cold weight settled in my chest as I stood there, surrounded by the remnants of slaughter. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out even the faint hum of the city''s machines. A single tear traced its way down my face before I realized it was there.


    I was scared.


    Not the fear of pain or death¡ªI''d met both before. I''d seen friends die, family too. I''d even faced my own end, once. But this was different. This was fear without reason, without resolution. It coiled in my gut and turned every breath into a labor.


    What could I do? Run? But to where?


    This world wasn''t designed for escape. Safety was a myth, a whisper told to children to lull them to sleep. Level 0 had been no refuge, but at least I understood it. Here, I was adrift, clinging to choices that now felt like mistakes.


    Every step I''d taken had led me here. To this. And now, standing ankle-deep in blood, surrounded by the dead, I felt the weight of it pressing down. Every decision, every path¡ªI''d walked them with purpose. But now, all I could feel was regret.


    There were no runes on them. That much I noticed. It was the only certainty I had¡ªthey were dead.


    I kept walking. Forward, though I didn''t know where. Forward, though I didn''t know why. The purpose that had driven me here was gone, dissolved into the blood-soaked streets. My legs moved of their own accord, guided by some instinct I couldn''t name.


    The exhaustion settled in slowly, creeping into my chest, my arms, my gaze. My eyes burned, heavy with fatigue, but I couldn''t stop. Not until my body made the decision for me. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the ground.


    The blood soaked into my clothes as I lay there, staring up at the gray, indifferent sky. My head struck something hard¡ªa rock, maybe. It hurt, but not enough to matter. Pain was distant, dulled by the numbness clawing its way through my mind.


    I shifted, trying to make sense of the discomfort beneath my head. My hand reached back, fingers curling around the object. Not a stone. Softer. Coarser.


    Hair.


    My half-closed eyes blinked sluggishly as I lifted it¡ª twisting slowly in the air, the bloodied strands of its hair slipping through my fingers. The face turned toward me, and in that moment, the world stopped.


    I couldn''t breathe.


    Kael had never looked so terrified before. His eyes stared back at me, wide with a terror I had never seen in him before. His mouth was slack, his lips parted in a silent scream. Blood poured from the jagged wound in his neck, pooling beneath him, streaking through his drenched hair.


    I couldn''t look away.


    My chest heaved, and then I cried. Not quietly, not with control, but with a rawness that tore through me. I didn''t care if anyone heard. There was no one left to hear.


    Kael was gone.


    The rock, the streets, the sky¡ªit all blurred behind the tears. And for the first time, I didn''t care about why I had come here, where I was going, or what I needed to do. All that remained was the weight of his lifeless face, and the knowledge that nothing I did would ever bring him back.


    I remembered why I was here.


    Slowly, I placed Kael''s head on the ground, careful despite the trembling in my hands. My breath hitched as I scanned the area. His body wasn''t there. None of the others were, either. Faces I should have recognized were absent, leaving me clinging to a sliver of hope.


    Someone might still be alive. Someone.


    This time, I walked with purpose. Not out of instinct or numbness, but with intent. My legs moved on my command, my steps heavier now, pressing into the blood-soaked ground. I wasn''t wandering anymore¡ªI was searching.


    The scenery shifted as I pressed on. The province, once pristine and imposing, was a shadow of itself. Buildings stood fractured, their sleek surfaces shattered and jagged. Neon lights flickered weakly, casting fragmented reflections onto the wet streets. The sky above had darkened further, thick clouds swirling like a bruise.


    The weight in my chest was unbearable. Each breath felt like I was dragging it through the blood and ash that choked the air. Yet, I pushed forward.


    Whatever I found¡ªwhether it was salvation or more devastation¡ªI had to know.


    The heart of the province wasn''t far, but the journey felt endless. Each step dragged me deeper into the ruins, where the weight of death hung heavy in the air. The streets widened here, lined with remnants of what must have once been pristine architecture. Now, jagged shards of glass jutted from crumbled walls, and massive steel beams lay twisted and scattered like discarded toys.


    The stench grew worse with every step. Blood, ash, and something sour and chemical burned my throat and filled my lungs. I pressed the back of my hand to my nose, but it was no use. The smell was everywhere, soaking into the very fabric of this place.


    The silence that had blanketed the province before was beginning to fracture. The faint sound of dripping liquid echoed in the distance, accompanied by the occasional groan of a structure straining under its own weight. Every now and then, I heard something faintly crack or shift, and I would freeze, half-expecting the shadows to move.


    Then I saw it.


    At first, it was just a dark mass in the distance, indistinct against the ruins. My mind didn''t want to recognize it for what it was, not immediately. But as I got closer, the details came into focus.


    A pile.


    It stretched high into the air, a grotesque mountain of bodies stacked with a careless brutality. Arms and legs jutted out at unnatural angles, tangled in a grotesque display. Heads lolled limply, their eyes staring vacantly into the void. Blood poured down the sides of the pile like a morbid waterfall, pooling at its base and staining the already crimson ground.


    I stopped.


    My chest felt tight, my breath shallow. My instincts screamed at me to turn back, to leave this place and never look back. But I couldn''t.


    To the left of the pile, more bodies were scattered across the ground. These weren''t mutilated like the ones in the heap. They looked almost untouched, lying in eerie stillness. Their faces, peaceful and serene, were a cruel contrast to the horror surrounding them. It was as if they had simply fallen asleep where they stood, surrendering to some unseen force.


    On the right, the scene was far worse. Here, the remains were unrecognizable. Torn limbs, shattered skulls, and shredded torsos lay in grotesque disarray. The air was thicker here, heavy with the metallic tang of blood and the unmistakable stench of decay. These were the torn, the mangled, the shredded remains of something that could no longer be called human. It wasn''t a massacre¡ªit was desecration. Limbs severed, torsos ripped open, faces unrecognizable beneath layers of gore.


    And then, I noticed him.


    At first, I didn''t see him. The dark, bloodied fabric of his clothing blended too well with the gore around him. But once my eyes caught on him, they couldn''t look away.


    Atop the towering pile of corpses sat a figure, slumped forward with their head hanging low. The posture wasn''t triumphant or victorious, but weighed down. Shoulders hunched, hands gripping at the edges of the pile as though they were trying to hold themselves steady.


    I froze, my heart pounding in my ears.


    There was something about him¡ªsomething suffocating. He didn''t exude authority or power. There was no menace in his stillness. But his presence alone felt wrong, as though the very air bent around him.


    I took a step closer.


    The blood beneath my boots squelched loudly, and I winced at the sound. My throat tightened as I moved closer.


    The figure didn''t move. Their head hung as though in frustration, exhaustion, or despair¡ªit was hard to tell. From where I stood, I couldn''t see their face, but their presence alone was suffocating. There was something wrong here, something that made my chest tighten and my instincts scream to turn back.


    I called out, my voice hoarse and cracking.


    No response.


    I swallowed hard and took another step. The pile loomed larger now, grotesque details coming into focus¡ªthe expressions frozen in terror, the blood streaked across lifeless skin.


    Another step.


    The figure shifted, just slightly. His head tilted, and for a moment, I thought he might fall. But then, slowly, almost agonizingly, he turned toward me.


    His face came into view.


    The pale, angular jaw was streaked with dried blood, his features sharp and gaunt. Shadows clung to his hollowed eyes, dark and bottomless. His gaze met mine, and the weight of it stopped me cold.


    My breath hitched, and for a moment, I couldn''t move.


    They were the same cold, golden eyes.


    "Garron," I mumbled, my voice barely audible.


    He didn''t react. His gaze was fixed on me, unblinking, his face unreadable. My chest tightened as my eyes fell to his neck, where the faint glow of a rune still lingered. It was cracked at the very edge¡ªa small, jagged fracture that told me everything I needed to know. A crack meant usage. Essence had been drawn, perhaps too much.


    Everything began to fall into place, but not in a way that brought relief.


    I turned my head, scanning to my left. My heart thudded violently in my chest as I saw the bodies on the dry ground, separate from the pile. There weren''t many, but the moment I looked closer, my gut twisted.


    I knew them.


    My legs moved on their own, carrying me toward the motionless figures. The blood-soaked ground squelched beneath my boots, but I didn''t care. The closer I got, the harder it became to breathe.


    "Zara," I whispered, the name escaping my lips like a prayer I already knew would go unanswered.


    I fell to my knees beside her, my hands trembling as I reached for her head. Blood dripped from the corners of her mouth, staining her pale, lifeless face. Her eyes stared blankly at the sky, her delicate features frozen in death.


    Her rune.


    I didn''t see it. My breath came quicker, more frantic, as I scanned her body, the ground around her¡ªanywhere it might have fallen. But it wasn''t there. My chest ached with the weight of the realization.


    No.


    I turned my gaze to the others. There were faces I didn''t recognize, nameless casualties of whatever horror had taken place here. But then, further along the line, I saw her.


    Maki.


    Her thin, fragile body lay crumpled on the ground. Her small frame looked even smaller in death, as though the life she''d carried had been what made her whole. I didn''t need to check for her rune. I already knew it wasn''t there.


    I stared at her for what felt like an eternity, willing the sight in front of me to change, to undo itself. But it didn''t.


    They were gone. All of them. Zara, Maki, the others I''d fought beside, laughed with, survived with.


    All of them.


    Except him.


    And me.

 Rebirth II

    The flickering campfire still burns in my memory, though it hasn''t been lit for years. I can still hear their laughter¡ªCyrus, Aiden, Kade¡ªslapping each other on the back as if nothing could touch us. We were legends back then, names whispered in fear, spoken in reverence. We thought we were invincible.


    I can still see the smirks on their faces as we set out that day, weapons gleaming under the sun, hearts full of misplaced pride. It was the day we went to kill him. We were so confident, so full of ourselves.


    And all it took was one man. Just one. He didn''t just defeat us¡ªhe annihilated us.


    I remember falling. The world spun as I hit the ground, my body screaming in pain, but my mind stuck on the sights and sounds around me. The cries of my comrades¡ªfirst in anger, then in agony. Blood sprayed in crimson arcs, their lifeblood soaking into the earth as if the world itself wanted to erase us. Cyrus fell first, his eyes wide with disbelief. Aiden followed, his roar of defiance silenced in an instant. Kade, always the last to go down, fought harder than the rest of us combined, but even he succumbed.


    I can still see their faces, their lifeless eyes staring back at me. The weight of failure pressed down, heavier than any blade.


    And yet, I survived.


    Now, here I am. Sitting in a cold stone chair, a sentinel in a cave I don''t even care about. Guarding something meaningless to me, wasting away in the darkness. The world moved on, forgot us, forgot me. But I don''t care about any of it anymore.


    If not for her...


    Maki''s face comes to mind, unbidden yet welcome. That girl. The only reason I''m still clinging to this pathetic excuse for existence. I don''t care about what happened that day, about the blood, the betrayal, the loss. At the very least, I''ll protect her. That much, I can still do. If I had one final wish, I''d ask to die before she does.


    My eyes snap open, the memory fading. I glance down at the figure lying on the cold stone floor in front of me. Someone dragged him here, though I can''t fathom why. He''s nothing¡ªa worthless sack of flesh. He emits no Nyu, no aura, no presence at all. He''s a blank slate, as if life itself forgot to fill him in.


    The thing clutched in his hand¡ªit might be his rune, but it''s a pitiful excuse for one. What a joke. I can''t even bring myself to consider him a threat to Maki. Not even remotely.


    And those fools who brought him here... useless, spineless idiots. They can''t even gather a couple hundred Nyu between them. Why I haven''t gutted them yet is a mystery even to me.


    I rise from my chair, the sound of stone scraping against stone echoing through the cave. My muscles ache, stiff from sitting too long, but the movement is enough to shake the memories loose. The shadows on the walls shift and dance with the dim light of the rune fires, as if mocking me.


    The sun outside must be a little past noon. I can feel its faint warmth seeping through the cracks in the cave''s entrance, a distant reminder of a world I no longer belong to.


    Perhaps I''ll step outside for a while. Stretch my legs. Clear my mind. Because if I linger here too long, the memories will come back, sharper and crueler than before.


    The view outside was no different. A wasteland of dead trees clawing at the gray sky, their brittle branches rattling in the dry wind. The air reeked of ash and decay, so thick I could taste it. My stomach churned, and for a moment, I thought I might vomit.


    "Pathetic," I muttered under my breath, shaking the thought away.


    With a sigh, I tapped into my essence. The energy coursed through me, igniting a familiar rush as I propelled myself forward, speeding across the jagged mountains in an instant. The desolation blurred around me until, suddenly, it was gone.


    I stopped in a place I''d been to many times before¡ªa forest so vibrant, so untouched, it almost felt out of place in this dying world. The trees here were alive, their lush green canopies swaying gently in the breeze. In the heart of the forest, a massive waterfall cascaded down into a crystalline pool below, its roar echoing like distant thunder.


    Here, there was no sign of humanity. No footprints, no smoke trails, no whispers of intrusion. Only the sounds of nature and the occasional rustle of wild beasts in the undergrowth.


    Here, I was king.


    I looked around, surveying the land with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. In this level, I could crush anything¡ªor anyone¡ªwithout effort. The creatures that roamed this forest wouldn''t dare challenge me. And as for the so-called organizations or the self-proclaimed top ten of this level? They were nothing. Worthless parasites clinging to scraps of power.


    The thought lingered, heavy and tantalizing. Why didn''t I just tear them apart? It would be so easy to gather the nyu I needed, to advance to the next level with Maki at my side. I could obliterate anyone in my way, carve a path straight to the top.


    So why was I holding back?


    I sank deeper into my thoughts as I wandered toward the waterfall. The answer scratched at the edges of my mind, reluctant to show itself. Was it fear?


    Fear of losing her?


    Fear of reaching higher levels where monsters far greater than me awaited?


    I clenched my fists, the questions gnawing at my pride. Here, I was a monster, a force that could command this forest like a god. But up there? Beyond Level 2? Not even a thousand of me could survive Level 3 as I was now.


    I pushed the thought aside and climbed to a stone ledge just above the waterfall. The rock was smooth and cool, a perfect perch to overlook the forest below. I stretched out on my back, the surface cold against my skin, grounding me.


    The constant roar of the waterfall filled my ears, drowning out the rest of the world. I closed my eyes, letting the sound wash over me. For the first time in what felt like days, my body relaxed.


    Before I realized it, sleep claimed me.


    Even the strongest aren''t immune to the call of rest, I thought fleetingly, just before darkness enveloped me.


    Another memory forced its way into my mind. I was lying in a forest, my body broken and battered. My hands were shredded, my rune nearly destroyed, and every last drop of essence drained. I couldn''t move. I couldn''t heal. The stars above me blurred as my vision wavered, the cold grass beneath me soaking up the blood that poured from my wounds.


    I had decided then to let it end. To let my life bleed out and dissolve into the earth.


    In the distance, I could hear them¡ªmy friends, my comrades¡ªscreaming as they fought desperately to land even a single hit on him. The sounds of clashing weapons and guttural cries filled the air, each more hopeless than the last.


    Our leader''s voice still echoed in my ears, shouting encouragement, trying to keep the party''s spirit alive. But his words faltered, cut short. I''ll never forget the moment his head was severed from his body. His lifeless eyes stared back at us as the sheer horror set in. What followed was chaos. Desperate cries for help, the unrelenting sounds of slaughter, and then silence.


    I stared up at the stars, ready to close my eyes for the final time.


    But then, I heard a voice.


    "Aren''t the stars beautiful?"


    My eyes fluttered open. Standing above me was a girl about my age, her silhouette outlined against the night sky. She blocked my view of the stars, but for some reason, I didn''t mind.


    I didn''t answer. I couldn''t.


    "What? Did I disturb your sleep? Oops, my bad."


    Her tone was light, almost playful, but something about her felt... off. Her voice sounded too young for the way she spoke. Or maybe I had just spent far too many years in this cursed game.


    As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed her rune dangling from her neck, glowing faintly in the starlight. It was a soft, pure green, shaped like a musical note. Her face was obscured, hidden by the shadows of the trees and the dark.


    "Oh, what''s that? You''re missing a leg?" she said casually, as if commenting on the weather.


    I didn''t know why, but her presence didn''t irritate me. If anything, after months of lying here in silence, waiting to die, I felt... something close to happiness.


    I tilted my head slightly and closed my eyes. It was strange, but for the first time in ages, I felt warm.


    Then, suddenly, warmth turned into sensation. My body stirred. The numbness faded, replaced by the unmistakable feeling of touch. My hands tingled, alive again. My legs... I felt them too.


    My leg.


    My eyes shot open.


    The girl was kneeling beside me, her rune glowing brilliantly as she performed a spell. The light surrounded us, brighter and purer than anything I''d seen in years. My leg¡ªthe one I had lost in that fight¡ªwas fully regenerated. Even my rune, once shattered and lifeless, now glowed faintly, half-restored.


    I gasped, disbelief overtaking me. How was this possible? Healing someone else''s limbs¡ªregenerating them¡ªwas unheard of, even at Level 3.


    But before I could process it, I felt her collapse against me.


    She fell into my lap, her small frame cold and limp. My hand instinctively reached out to steady her. That''s when I noticed the blood. Patches of it covered her face and clothes¡ªnot hers, but someone else''s.


    I stared down at her, my chest tightening. What kind of hell had she been through to reach me?


    I didn''t know how to feel. Gratitude? Guilt? Anger? Her actions had saved me, but at what cost? I gently rested a hand on her head. Her hair was soft despite the grime and blood.


    A loose, bittersweet smile broke across my face.


    "Sleep well," I whispered.


    And as I sat there, cradling her fragile form, I stared back up at the stars. They looked different now. Less distant. Less cold.


    I felt like I''d slept far too long. The weight of it clung to me, heavy and oppressive. I tried to open my eyes, forcing them the way I usually did when exhaustion pinned them shut. But this time, it was different.


    This time, I couldn''t.


    Instead, the world shifted around me.


    I found myself standing in a black void, endless and consuming. There was nothing¡ªno stars, no ground, no horizon. Just darkness. I turned in every direction, desperate to find some anchor, something real. But there was nothing.


    I looked down, expecting to see at least my own reflection, but the ground didn''t exist. There was no texture, no sensation beneath my feet. I reached for my rune instinctively, calling on its power to break free.


    It was gone.


    A chill ran down my spine. This place... it was only me. Stripped bare of everything, of essence, of presence. Just me.


    I stood, shaking off the initial wave of panic. I hadn''t felt like this in years. Vulnerable. Alone. Was this a spell? An attack?


    But who? Who in this level could challenge me? There was no one left.


    I spun around, frantically searching for an answer, for anything to explain this. But it was futile. The more I searched, the deeper the void seemed to stretch, as though it were mocking me.


    I thought of Maki. The one constant in my existence. My mind clung to her image like a lifeline.


    And then, I felt it.


    A light.


    It appeared behind me, faint at first but growing stronger with each passing moment. I turned slowly, cautiously, and there it was.


    A single eye.


    Suspended in the void, vast and overwhelming, it stared directly at me. Its flawless violet iris shimmered like liquid light, cascading iridescent hues that rippled outward and illuminated the blackness. The brilliance of it fell upon me, making me feel exposed, as though it could see into the very core of my being.


    For a single moment, I stood frozen, utterly captivated.


    Then, everything shattered.


    I jolted awake, gasping for breath. My heart raced as my senses returned, and I was greeted by the cool night air. The darkness around me was familiar this time¡ªthe starry sky above, the pale moonlight casting gentle shadows.


    This wasn''t the void.


    But relief was short-lived.


    Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.


    I reached out instinctively, searching for the presence of The Harmonis. The aura, the essence that was always there, tethering me to this level, was gone.


    "Maki."


    Her name escaped my lips, sharp and urgent.


    Without hesitation, I raised my hand, summoning my essence. In a single, swift motion, I slashed downward, releasing a torrent of power. The entire forest and the mountains around me split apart, carved into two clean halves. A clear path now stretched before me, leading straight to where I needed to go.


    I didn''t waste a moment.


    I leapt down the waterfall, the rush of water roaring past me as I plunged into the open path below. My face was set in stone, my mind singularly focused.


    With a burst of speed, I surged forward, leaving the forest and devastation behind. My essence propelled me faster than ever, every thought consumed by one thing: reaching the cave.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Reaching her.


    The mountain stood before me, its jagged peaks now cleaved in two from my earlier attack. The cave, once concealed within its depths, lay exposed, its secrets laid bare. Without a second thought, I rushed in.


    The air inside was still, unnaturally quiet. Shadows flickered against the stone walls as my essence faintly illuminated the cavern.


    Empty.


    I searched every corner, every crevice, but found no one. No Maki. No sign of her infuriating friends. Not even the useless brat I had left behind.


    My chest tightened. I extended my senses, desperately searching for even a flicker of aura¡ªanything that could lead me to her or her party. My mind strained, combing through every fragment of energy in the cave.


    Nothing.


    The realization hit me like a blow. They were gone. Completely.


    But I refused to believe it. Not yet.


    I accessed the leaderboard, my fingers trembling as I opened the mental taps I had kept shut for so many years. A flood of notifications poured in¡ªupdates, messages, meaningless noise¡ªbut I ignored it all. My focus was singular.


    I searched the party leaderboard.


    Her name.


    I needed to see it. Just her name. A single confirmation that she was alive, somewhere. That she hadn''t been erased from existence.


    But there was nothing.


    Her name wasn''t there.


    My vision blurred as the weight of it bore down on me. The truth I had tried so desperately to deny was now undeniable.


    I let go.


    The grip I held on my rune, on my emotions, on everything¡ªgone.


    Essence surged through me, an uncontrollable torrent brimming in my chest. The walls of the cave quaked under the pressure, cracks spreading like veins through the stone. I stumbled back into the open air, my body trembling, my mind fractured.


    Then it happened.


    The aura erupted from me in a violent burst, a shockwave that rippled through the land. When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in control.


    I had lost myself.


    The cybercity was the first to fall. I descended upon it with fury, my essence burning brighter and hotter with every moment.


    Buildings crumbled under my power, their twisted metal frames collapsing like paper. Civilians screamed, but their cries were short-lived. I cut through them like a scythe through wheat¡ªplayers, non-combatants, children¡ªit didn''t matter. None of it mattered anymore.


    I unleashed my wrath indiscriminately, leveling entire districts in my rage. Fire and chaos engulfed the city, smoke rising in thick plumes that choked the sky. My blade tore through anyone in my path, and when there were no more, I struck the earth itself, leaving fissures and craters in my wake.


    They had to come.


    They would come.


    The Sable Order.


    I knew they wouldn''t ignore this. My massacre would force their hand. They would descend from their gilded towers, their enforcers finally stepping into my presence.


    Until then, I would destroy everything.


    The descent was swift, and the cybercity sprawled before me¡ªa glittering labyrinth of steel and neon, teeming with life. For years, I had avoided this place, its artificial hum a reminder of everything I despised. But now, it would serve as the canvas for my wrath.


    The first strike came without thought. My blade tore through the tallest spire, its glowing advertisements flickering and fading as the structure groaned. Shards of glass and metal rained down like a cruel hailstorm, crashing onto the streets below.


    The screams began.


    I landed in the heart of the chaos, the force of my impact shattering the ground beneath me. The shockwave rippled outward, sending cars tumbling and bodies flying. I stood amidst the debris, my essence swirling like a tempest, the very air vibrating with its intensity.


    Panic spread like wildfire. Civilians scattered in all directions, their cries of terror mingling with the blaring alarms. Players armed with minor runes rushed to confront me, their auras trembling in my presence.


    They didn''t last.


    With a single swipe, I cleaved through the nearest group, their weapons shattering like brittle twigs. Blood spattered the pavement, pooling beneath the fallen.


    "Cowards," I growled, my voice reverberating through the crumbling streets. "Is this the best you can muster?"


    I moved forward, relentless. My essence burned brighter, consuming everything in its path. Buildings crumbled under the weight of my power, their reinforced walls caving as though made of sand. The ground splintered, massive fissures swallowing anything in their way¡ªvehicles, bodies, even entire blocks.


    A child''s cry reached my ears, faint amidst the carnage. I turned, spotting a young boy clutching his mother''s hand as they tried to flee. For a brief moment, I hesitated.


    But only for a moment.


    The energy surged from me, a pulse of raw destruction. The street erupted in a blaze of light and fire, and when it cleared, nothing remained.


    I pushed onward, my path cutting straight through the cybercity like a blade through flesh. Those who tried to fight were struck down without mercy, their runes and weapons useless against my fury. Those who ran were caught in the wake of my destruction, their lives extinguished in an instant.


    Above me, the artificial sky flickered. The once-vibrant neon lights dimmed as the city''s power grid faltered, unable to withstand the devastation. Darkness crept over the skyline, punctuated only by the fires raging in the ruins.


    I roared, the sound echoing across the desolation. "Come out!"


    My voice shattered windows and silenced the remaining cries of terror. "Sable Order! Face me!"


    But there was no response.


    The city lay in ruins around me, its lifeblood snuffed out. And still, I burned. My essence crackled and hissed, desperate for more, demanding release.


    I raised my hand, and the sky above the city turned crimson. A swirling vortex of energy gathered in my palm, growing larger and brighter until it threatened to consume everything in its path.


    "Until you come, I will reduce this level to ash," I snarled. "I will erase everything."


    The power surged within me, ready to be unleashed. And I waited, the only sound the crackling fires and the whispers of a city brought to its knees.


    Amidst the chaos, my eyes caught it¡ªa flicker of movement, a shadow wavering behind the twisted corpse of a fallen player. Instinct took over, and I pounced without hesitation.


    My blade struck true, cleaving through the air and stopping just shy of flesh. As I landed, a man emerged from the shadows, cloaked and masked. He bore no skull emblem, no clear insignia of his allegiance, but I didn''t need confirmation. The way he carried himself, the faint aura that clung to him like smoke¡ªit was enough.


    Sable Order.


    I pointed my blade at his throat, the sharp edge glinting faintly in the dying light. He didn''t flinch, didn''t react. The chaos behind me raged on¡ªscreams, explosions, the crackle of fire consuming the cybercity¡ªbut he remained still, a statue of calm amidst the carnage.


    The corpse beneath him told the story. Its stomach was pierced, grotesquely impaled by its own knee, twisted by some cruel force.


    "Where is the girl with the Rune Harmonis?" I demanded, my voice like a blade itself, cutting through the din around us.


    Silence.


    He said nothing, his expression hidden behind the mask. My patience frayed. Without a second thought, I grabbed the front of his cloak, hauling him into the air like he weighed nothing.


    "You will answer," I growled, my essence flaring dangerously.


    Still, he refused to speak.


    With him in my grasp, I turned back to the city. If his silence was his answer, then the city would pay the price. My rampage continued, carving through the streets like a storm. I swung my blade through fleeing crowds, reducing entire buildings to rubble with every motion. The innocents fell before me, their cries merging with the roar of destruction.


    I held the man aloft, forcing him to watch as the chaos unfolded. His silence began to crack, his aura trembling under the weight of my wrath. Finally, he spoke, his voice a wavering whisper.


    "They went to the northeastern province."


    That was all I needed.


    With a snarl, I slammed him into the street below, the impact creating a crater that swallowed the pavement. The surrounding buildings groaned under the force, and I brought my hands together, crushing both structures on either side into him. The dust and debris swallowed his form, leaving only destruction in my wake.


    There was no pause, no hesitation. The moment the words left his mouth, my focus shifted. I turned, my essence propelling me forward like a comet. The northeastern province.


    Maki.


    The thought of her consumed me, driving me faster, harder. The air around me crackled as I surged across the broken land, leaving the ruined city behind, a wasteland in my wake.


    It took mere minutes to reach the northern province. The world blurred around me, particles of air bending and warping as I sped through the terrain. In the blink of an eye, I found myself standing at the edge of a gathering.


    Before me, a sea of people had gathered in the heart of the province. Their faces, a mixture of the young and old, men and women, children and elderly, were all locked in a shared gaze toward something in the center. The air hung heavy, as if the crowd itself held its breath, waiting for something, or perhaps dreading what was to come. In this mass, there were players, each adorned with their runes, the unspoken power in their eyes making the air vibrate with a quiet tension. The rich and the poor, the common and the privileged, all huddled together, their lives seemingly suspended in the gravity of the moment.


    I saw shadows moving within the crowd¡ªfigures cloaked in black, their presence imposing. Six of them wore the unmistakable skull emblem, a symbol that chilled the spine. With them, the top of the level stood, their dazzling runes pulsing like beacons in the dark. Their power radiated like a storm contained, waiting to be unleashed.


    It was then I realized they weren''t simply observing¡ªthey were spectators at some twisted, gruesome spectacle, as if this were no different from a festival or a performance. A sickening calm enveloped the crowd. I felt my breath catch in my throat.


    Tears welled in my eyes as I slowly approached the center, where the horrific sight lay exposed. Three bodies, sprawled out in the open for all to see. Two women, and one man. The man''s body was grotesque, his head missing, severed as if it were nothing but a discarded piece of flesh. The two women, their faces pale, their limbs contorted in the unnatural positions of the dead, still retained the cruel traces of life that had once inhabited them. But it was their absence of life that struck with cold finality.


    One of them¡ªthe girl I had fought so hard to protect, the one whose name still burned in my chest¡ªwas Maki. Her body lay limp and lifeless, her beauty marred by the brutality of her death. A gasp escaped my lips as I fell to my knees, the weight of the world crushing me all at once. The rage, the sorrow, the disbelief¡ªall of it converged in a single moment. I was too late.


    I hovered there, frozen, my body still as if controlled by the rune of the wind itself, my eyes fixated on her still form. The noise of the crowd blurred into a distant hum, their lives irrelevant in this instant. Nothing mattered now. Only the body of the girl I once knew, now reduced to a lifeless shell, burned into my mind like a cruel tattoo.


    The moment I landed, the crowd took notice. Some instinctively took defensive stances, preparing to fight, while others shouted for everyone to flee, their voices scrambling in the chaos. Some simply muttered, too terrified to speak clearly, and others screamed in panic. But none of it reached me. The noise was muffled, distant¡ªlike the world around me had been reduced to a hollow shell. My ears rang with the pressure of my own fury.


    My eyes were fixed, unwavering. I knelt down and gently took Maki''s lifeless head into my hands. She was no longer the girl I had known¡ªthe smile that once lit up her face was gone, replaced by an expression of unrelenting stillness. Beside her, the bodies of her so-called friends lay discarded like refuse. Kael, his head severed cleanly from his body, stared into nothingness. None of them had their runes on them¡ªthose symbols of their power, their essence, stripped away as though their very identity had been stolen in death.


    They were gone. They were dead.


    The cold, biting truth hit me like a hammer to the chest.


    A voice cut through the air, mocking, dripping with malice. "Finally showed yourself, huh? Mister 2." The tone was as insufferable as it was familiar.


    I didn''t even acknowledge it. I couldn''t.


    Another voice, one that belonged to someone who clearly didn''t grasp the weight of the situation, chimed in with a laugh, "Ohhh, so these two were important to you?"


    I could hear the sneers in their words, the amusement they found in my pain. But their words didn''t matter, not anymore.


    "What is that girl to you? Your girlfriend, perhaps? Hahaha." The laughter was hollow, empty, and it churned in my stomach like acid.


    I looked up, my face a dark, indistinct mask of rage. "What did you do to her." I asked, my voice barely more than a low growl, the words dripping with fury.


    One of them pretended not to hear, dragging the moment out with an exaggerated, "Ahh? I didn''t hear that."


    Another, emboldened by their cruel camaraderie, scoffed, "He''s asking how we killed the kids."


    The first voice piped up again, as if narrating some twisted show for the crowd. "Ohhhh, right. I guess the Sable Order should explain it, since we were just spectators."


    I didn''t move, my gaze unwavering. My body was a storm of raw, uncontained fury, but I remained still, as if waiting for the last word to break the silence.


    A new voice broke through the heavy silence¡ªa voice that was low, chilling, the kind of voice that made my skin crawl with recognition. One of the skull-emblemed figures from the Order. The words that followed came with an unsettling calmness, as if recounting a familiar tale.


    "The boy''s head was cut off when he tried to fight our men as the girls ran," the voice said, almost lazily. "The big girl... she got her gut pierced by one of us. And the annoying healer? She¡ª"


    "She was the main event!" Another voice interrupted, brimming with twisted glee.


    The words were so casual, so mercilessly cold, that it sent a tremor down my spine. My grip on my sword, which had been firm and resolute just moments before, suddenly faltered. The weight of what they said pressed down on me like a suffocating vice.


    The voice continued, more matter-of-fact now, its tone dripping with disdain. "She was incredibly annoying, healing every grave wound. Even when we tried burning the boy alive, she kept regenerating him. You know what we did? We cut her on every part of her body. We made her bleed. We let her blood drain, and each time, she healed herself. We did it again. And again. Until she just let it go. Her rune? It wasn''t even close to being fully used up. She just... gave up."


    I could barely hold on to the blade now. The words hung in the air like poison, the venom of their cruelty spreading through my veins. My chest tightened with the agony of what they had done. I wanted to scream, to roar, to bring this whole place down around me. But I didn''t. I stayed still, as if frozen in time, my thoughts a blur of rage and heartbreak.


    "Too bad you weren''t there to witness all that," the voice added with a sickening finality.


    I rose from my kneeling position, the sword still in my hand, but now my mind was somewhere far away, in the depths of a darkness I hadn''t known existed. This was a spectacle to them. A show. The cruelty of it all¡ªthe fact that these people, these spectators, were gathered here to witness the slaughter of innocent lives, was too much to process.


    I looked around, the crowd still standing there, as if in a trance. Some faces twisted into grotesque smiles, others were paralyzed by fear, some ran, and a few just... looked dead inside. Depressed. Hollow. The children¡ªwhat were they doing here? Forced to watch this horror unfold before them, perhaps taught to obey, to fear, to submit.


    It hit me then¡ªthe terrible, crushing weight of the situation. This wasn''t just an execution; it was a message. This display, this show of violence, was meant to remind everyone. The top dogs. The Sable Order. They were sending a signal¡ªa warning that rebellion would not be tolerated. They wanted to remind the people of the price for defying them. This wasn''t about justice. It was about control.


    The people were nothing more than pawns in their twisted game, forced to bear witness to a horrific display of power, their fear the only thing they could hold on to.


    And it made me sick.


    "Why?" My voice cracked as I spoke, the words barely escaping past the lump in my throat. I could feel the weight of the question suffocating me. I didn''t want to hear the answer, but I had to ask. I needed to know the reason behind this¡ªbehind their sickening cruelty.


    A brief silence hung in the air, and then one of them responded nonchalantly. "Uh, I don''t know?" The indifference in his voice sent a wave of nausea through me. It was as if my pain, their pain, meant nothing at all. Just a simple question, a simple shrug.


    Then, another voice broke in¡ªanother one of the figures with the skull emblem. "Because they had stolen the cloak of Master Seven," he said, as if the explanation were obvious.


    Master Seven. The top seventh-ranked person of this level. But why would they¡ªthey go this far, dragging innocent lives into their madness over a cloak. These idiots, as stupid as they were, couldn''t possibly have understood the weight of their actions. To kill for something so trivial?


    "How do you know they stole it?"


    The man flinched and took a step back, clearly unsettled by the fire in my gaze. "A¡ªa guy had it... He¡ªhe told us it was given to him by that guy," he stammered, pointing shakily toward the headless body of Kael.


    So that was it. That guy. The one they dragged into the mountain the day before. The one who sought refuge, without a rune, without any Nyu. The one with that insufferable, careless face¡ªthe same face that I could still picture so clearly in my mind. A useless pile of garbage, trying to survive in a world where he didn''t belong. And they had done all of this because of him? Because of a worthless cloak that meant nothing?


    They were so desperate for power, so determined to crush anything in their path, that they would destroy everything¡ªeverything¡ªjust to hold onto a single piece of worthless cloth. The depth of their depravity sank into me like an anchor, dragging me further into the abyss.


    And as I stood there, my heart pounding, my resolve solidifying, I knew one thing for certain: I would not let them get away with this.


    "What, you want to fight?" one of them sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. Laughter rippled through the crowd. Some of them took a few hesitant steps back, while others, with more confidence or arrogance, began calling their runes.


    But I didn''t move. I didn''t flinch. Instead, I rose. Not just off the ground, but I rose higher. Higher into the heavens, where the air grew thin, and the sky stretched infinitely above. My body became a mere silhouette against the clouds as the air crackled, charged with power. And then, I let my essence surge.


    The Terrastone. The power that ran through my veins. Nothing, not even the combined strength of all their runes, could compare to this.


    Lightning crackled from my back, tearing through the air, the light illuminating the chaos below. Every bolt of energy that erupted from me painted the world in a jagged, ferocious glow.


    With that, I descended.


    The speed of my fall was unimaginable. I plummeted like a comet crashing toward earth, my rage and sorrow fueling the tempest within. As I descended, time seemed to stretch, slow, and then freeze. In that moment, as I neared the ground, I saw their faces. Some were terrified, eyes wide with the primal fear of the unknown, their bodies trembling as my aura began to suffocate them. Others grinned, anticipating the fight, eager for the thrill, but even they couldn''t ignore the feeling of death hanging thick in the air.


    I landed with the fury of an avalanche, the earth itself shuddering beneath my weight. I didn''t need to see the aftermath¡ªI knew what I had done. I felt the splintering of bone, the crack of metal, the screams that had already fallen silent. I felt the weight of my anger and my grief, manifest in the bodies that now littered the ground, their blood sprawling like rivers across the earth.


    And before I knew it, it was over.


    I stood at the top of a throne made of corpses, my eyes sweeping the battlefield, a silent witness to my own devastation. My rune, the Terrastone, was barely used. It had only required the slightest of touches to bring all of this destruction to life. But despite the ease with which it had been done, a heavy weight settled on my shoulders. The burden of my actions. Of what I had become. Of what I had lost.


    My chest rose and fell with labored breaths, but even then, there was no relief. My head hung low. I was no longer sure if I was breathing out of rage or sorrow, but I felt everything¡ªevery ounce of it.


    And then, after just minutes of the carnage, I heard footsteps.


    A single, deliberate step after step, cutting through the stillness of the aftermath. The sound I had been waiting for. The one I had anticipated since the moment this madness began.


    It was about time he came. And it was about time I ended this.

 Rebirth III

    The sky above hung dense, a murky canvas of swirling clouds that felt suffocating even from this height. The air was heavy, oppressive, as if it carried the weight of my deeds. Below, he approached¡ªthe one I had been watching for. His steps were slow, hesitant, as though each movement required monumental effort. His face was pale, yet it wasn''t fear that froze him¡ªit was grief. Grief for the pale, lifeless bodies of Maki and Zara sprawled in front of him.


    I sat atop my throne of carnage, a mountain of corpses soaked in blood. The sticky crimson clung to me, a grotesque second skin, but I didn''t care. Despite the destruction I had wrought, the chaos I had unleashed, the burning in my chest refused to subside. The fire inside was not one of righteous vengeance¡ªit was hollow, cold. Time and again, the same questions plagued my mind: So, what now? What should I do now?


    I tore my gaze away from him and glanced at the leaderboard, a fleeting distraction from the gnawing void in my heart. The Nyu count blinked back at me, as if mocking me. Despite everything, the numbers remained significant. There were still players scattered across this cursed level¡ªmost hadn''t even reached this province. My rampage had been devastating, yes, but it was confined to this region.


    The Sable Order, their skull-emblem bearers, their pawns¡ªthey were mostly eradicated. The top-tier players who had hoarded their Nyu for years were gone, their once-dazzling runes shattered. The leaderboard confirmed it: the number two on this level, the last bastion of opposition, held only 26 Nyu. A laughable amount.


    Above his name sat mine. A thin red line separated us, a chasm of power so wide it was almost cruel. My total glared back at me: 563 Nyu. Enough to ascend to Level 2 whenever I desired. If I pushed harder, gathered just a thousand more, I could ascend to Level 3. It was all there, within reach.


    But the real question wasn''t can I? It was should I?


    I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms until fresh blood mixed with the dried stains on my skin. My mind churned with bitter thoughts. Is it worth it? I had lost the ones close to me¡ªtwice now. Is there any meaning in climbing further? Let''s say I did ascend to Level 3. Then what? Would I keep killing? Keep slaughtering, taking lives indiscriminately? Destroying families, loved ones, those who meant something to someone¡ªall for the sake of collecting a few more Nyu, just to survive another night?


    The emptiness in my chest yawned wider, threatening to swallow me whole. I glanced back at him. The nameless man, the one who had set all of this in motion, whether he realized it or not. He knelt now, trembling as he reached out for the bodies of Maki and Zara. His hands shook violently, stained with patches of blood that weren''t even his own. Yet it was his face that stirred something vile within me.


    His expression wasn''t one of guilt or even fear. It was grief, yes, but there was no recognition of his role in this tragedy. No acknowledgment of the aura I was releasing¡ªan aura so oppressive it should have driven him to his knees in terror. Instead, he stood there, lost in his sorrow, like a spectator to his own sins.


    The sight made me sick.


    Does he not realize what he''s done? The fire within me flared again, this time tainted with disgust. Shouldn''t he be cowering right now? Shouldn''t he be begging for forgiveness?


    And then he screamed.


    A raw, guttural sound erupted from him as he clutched his head, his cries echoing across the desolate battlefield. "AhhhhhhhHHH!" The sound grated against my ears, clawed at my mind.


    I felt bile rise in my throat. It wasn''t grief¡ªit was pathetic. Hollow. He had no right to scream like that. No right to mourn. Not after what he had caused.


    I turned my head away, unable to bear the sight any longer. The emptiness inside me twisted into something sharper, darker.


    It was time.


    The sky roared as thunder rolled through the heavens, reverberating like a war drum. Lightning illuminated the grim scene, casting fleeting shadows over the mountain of corpses I had claimed. I stood, my boot planted firmly over the shattered skulls and gore beneath me. The blood pooled thickly, dripping in rivulets down the slope of bodies as I slid down, silent as a phantom.


    He didn''t notice. His trembling frame remained hunched over the corpses of Maki and Zara, his sobs lost in the cacophony of the storm. Another crack of thunder split the air, sharp and sudden, enough to make him flinch. But still, he didn''t turn. I stopped twenty meters behind him, my face darkened by rage and smeared with blood.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    I didn''t know what I hated more¡ªthe wretched, hollow grief that oozed from him or the unrelenting disgust churning within me. The others I had slaughtered at least had the courage to face me. This one? This one made me sick. But before I did anything, I had to confirm one thing.


    My voice cut through the storm, low and deliberate. "Was it you who blamed Kael for the cloak of Seven?"


    He didn''t answer at first. His shoulders shook with his silent sobbing, tears streaking his dirt-stained face. I repeated, each word clipped and sharp. "I asked, was it you?"


    Slowly, he lifted his head. His lips parted, his voice barely a whisper. But before the words could form, another voice pierced through the chaos.


    "It was me."


    I turned swiftly, my eyes locking onto the speaker. It was a woman, staggering into view from the edge of the bloodied field. Her body was wrapped in bandages, stained crimson in places where fresh wounds bled through. Her face was battered, bruises darkening her skin, her steps unsteady. Yet, there was something in her expression¡ªa defiance, a desperation.


    "Who are you?" I demanded, my tone as cold as the wind whipping around us.


    She hesitated but stood firm, her voice trembling but audible. "I... I''m the one who blamed that man for the cloak."


    My gaze flicked back to the boy. His face hung low, his body limp as if her words had drained what little life remained in him. For a moment, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. It didn''t matter who had done it. It didn''t matter whose hand had lit the match.


    They would both die.


    Her voice broke through again, shaking with urgency. "He... he had nothing to do with it. So please, spare him. I can give you all my Nyu¡ª"


    She didn''t finish.


    The sharp crack of stone splitting the air drowned her plea as I raised my hand, willing a jagged shard of rock to tear through her chest. The projectile struck true, piercing her heart with a sickening thud. She gasped, a wet, guttural sound, as blood poured from her mouth. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, lifeless, her body sprawled in the mud and blood.


    For a moment, silence fell over the scene, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. I lowered my hand, expression unreadable.


    Just like that, she was dead.


    I walked towards the boy, each step deliberate, my boots sinking into the blood-soaked earth. I stopped just inches away, the cold steel of my presence looming over him. He didn''t move at first, then slowly turned his head to glance at the woman''s lifeless body one last time. His gaze lingered before his chin fell back to his chest, his head hanging low.


    Tears trickled silently from his face, dripping onto the ground below. I studied him closely, searching for something¡ªanything¡ªthat might redeem his pitiful existence. But there was nothing. No visible rune marked his body, no trace of power, not even the faint pale yellow stone I''d seen earlier.


    I raised my hand, fingers curling with the weight of decision. He looked up faintly, his eyes meeting mine. There was no defiance, no begging, just an empty acceptance. He had resigned himself to death.


    But this wasn''t how he deserved to die.


    Lowering my hand, I pointed a single finger at him. With a swift, almost careless motion, I sent several tiny stones flying toward him. The sharp shards sliced through his neck, wrists, and ankles, opening thin, precise cuts. Blood began to seep from the wounds, pooling around him. He crumpled to the ground, his breathing shallow as the life slowly drained from his body.


    The slits were small, deliberate. He would bleed out in five minutes, maybe less. I had planned to watch his death unfold, to ensure he understood the weight of his actions, of the lives he had indirectly destroyed. Yet, as I stood over him, I saw no struggle, no resistance. He simply lay there, letting it happen, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond me.


    I lost interest.


    This boy, this level, this place¡ªit was all beneath me now. I turned away, letting him fade into the background like a dull, forgotten memory. There was no one left who could challenge me, no soul brave¡ªor foolish¡ªenough to stand in my path.


    My thoughts wandered as I began walking, slowly and aimlessly, the occasional crack of thunder punctuating the silence. The idea of ascending to the next level grew in my mind. But first, perhaps, I should visit the cave one last time before leaving this wretched place behind.


    The air around me felt heavy, laden with an unnatural stillness. Then, it came. Drip. Drip. Drip.


    I looked up. A droplet splashed against my face, cold and foreign. Rain.


    It had been years since this part of the level had seen rain. The cybercity, with its artificial skies and towering megastructures, hadn''t witnessed a drop since the day it was built.


    Drip. Drip. Drip. The droplets grew steadier, falling cool and sharp against my skin. It wasn''t enough to quench the thirst that lingered in my soul, but it was enough to draw my attention upward.


    The sky was dark and dense, alive with streaks of lightning. But something was wrong. My eyes narrowed as I stared at the flashing lights above. There was a strange, almost imperceptible shift. The white arcs of lightning that had cracked through the heavens moments ago were no longer white.


    They were yellow.


    A shiver ran down my spine. My instincts screamed. My body tensed, alarms raging within me. I could feel it¡ªsomething was wrong. My rune pulsed and shivered, warning me of an imminent threat. I turned sharply, my every sense on edge.


    And then I saw him.


    He hovered in the air, suspended like a marionette on invisible strings. His body hung limp, but his presence was anything but weak. His wounds were gone, healed as if they''d never existed. His hair, once dull and lifeless, now glowed an unnatural yellow, crackling faintly with energy.


    Around his neck, swinging gently as though mocking gravity, hung a bright stone.


    A Rune of Lightning.


    Goosebumps prickled my skin as I stared, the storm raging around us. My mind raced, yet my body froze. The desperate boy who had lost his interest to live, now had an unpleasant grin which extended across his face. For the first time in years, a question clawed its way to the surface of my thoughts:


    What in the hell have I just unleashed?

 Fury of Eryxion, The Thunder Rune

    The storm raged on, thunder rolling across the heavens as rain lashed against my face. How many years had it been since I''d felt something like this? Not just the storm itself, but the raw, unfiltered power saturating the air. My Terrastone shivered faintly, its essence reacting to the pure aura emitted by the rune before me. This wasn''t an ordinary rune¡ªit was sharp, alive, and vibrant. The gleaming yellow stone in his possession crackled with energy, its edges sparking like miniature arcs of lightning.


    He floated in the air, his body weightless yet commanding. Slowly, he descended, his presence grounding itself with an ominous finality. The dark clouds above churned, swirling as if bowing to his arrival. Giant arcs of yellow lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the battlefield of corpses below.


    I couldn''t deny it: this rune he wielded¡ªno, this power¡ªwas equal to mine. Maybe more.


    A smirk curled on my lips. "So, this is what you were hiding behind that pathetic face," I sneered, letting my voice carry over the storm. "Were you lying to these corpses? To her? What was the plan, huh? Snitch them out to the Sable Order and swoop in at the last minute as the hero? Did you have a crush or some twisted savior complex?"


    He landed, his feet touching the ground with deliberate grace. Raindrops hissed and danced off the yellow aura surrounding him, evaporating before they could reach his skin. But he didn''t answer. Not with words.


    Instead, he gave me a grin.


    It wasn''t intimidating, nor was it particularly malicious. No, it was something else entirely¡ªa grin born from the absurdity of our surroundings. Blood smeared his face, corpses littered the ground around him, and yet he stood there, grinning at me like a child caught in a game.


    I felt a flicker of doubt creep into my thoughts. Something about him¡ªthis boy¡ªwas off.


    "Who are you?" I asked, though I didn''t truly care about his name. Names were meaningless here. What I wanted to know was what he was.


    He didn''t reply. His shoulders remained hunched, his hair clinging wetly to his face, eyes half-lidded as though he were still half asleep.


    I tightened my stance, preparing for any sudden movement. If he thought he could pull off some kind of surprise attack, he''d soon find out why they call me The Destroyer. His hand moved, and I didn''t hesitate.


    Raising my own hand, I summoned a sharp-edged rock from thin air. The Terrastone glowed faintly, feeding off my essence as the projectile formed. With a flick of my wrist, the jagged stone shot through the air with deadly precision, aiming straight for his heart.


    It hit its mark.


    The rock pierced through his chest, tearing a gaping hole where his heart should be. Blood sprayed into the air, staining the ground below in crimson streaks.


    But he didn''t fall.


    He didn''t even flinch.


    I watched, my eyes narrowing as his grin widened ever so slightly. His body stood unnaturally still, rain dripping from his bloodied frame, the yellow rune around his neck glowing brighter.


    "What?" I muttered under my breath.


    This was impossible. That fatal wound in the chest should at the very least use up his rune, make him flinch.


    And yet, he stood there, unbroken.


    And then, it all started with a single raindrop, falling slow and deliberate through the stormy air. As it descended, his figure blurred slightly through the refraction of the droplet, bending reality just enough to give me pause. It was a fleeting moment¡ªa fraction of a second, perhaps less.


    Before I could fully grasp what was happening, he was in front of me.


    His fist was raised, barreling toward my face with an absurd velocity. I should have been able to dodge it¡ªno, I should have dodged it. He was just a random guy from this level, wasn''t he? But no. His fist connected, slamming into my face with a force I could hardly fathom.


    My body flew.


    The sheer impact launched me through the air, crashing me into the remains of a collapsed building. The rubble shattered under my momentum, the debris groaning as I smashed through not one, but three walls. Dust and smoke erupted in thick plumes, obscuring my fall.


    Pain flared in my jaw. I spat blood and felt the sharp sting of broken teeth rattling in my mouth. Even through the haze, I forced myself to act, channeling a fraction of my essence to repair the damage to my face.


    But the smoke didn''t linger.


    It cleared suddenly, as though torn apart by a gust of unseen wind. He was there again, midair, descending toward me with his fist primed for another strike.


    This time, my body reacted on instinct. My mind might not have fully processed the threat, but my Rune had. It screamed at me to move.


    With a wave of my hand, I summoned a massive stone wall from the earth, thick and solid, to intercept his attack. His fist smashed through it effortlessly, shattering the stone into a rain of debris. But I was no longer there.


    I had already repositioned, crouching atop the remnants of another building. My face was almost fully healed, my gaze locked on him.


    He turned to me, his movements slow and deliberate. His grin hadn''t faded, not even slightly. The hole I''d blasted through his chest earlier? It was gone, as if it had never been there. His body healed at an unnatural speed.


    Superhuman regeneration, I thought.


    And still, he hadn''t used his rune.


    A thunderous flash lit the sky, and in an instant, he was in front of me again. Nearly fourteen floors above the ground, hanging in the air like gravity itself had given up on him.


    I was ready this time.


    My finger extended, aiming at his head as if it were the barrel of a gun. With a flick of essence, I shot a pebble at his face, sharp and fast as a bullet. He didn''t even flinch. The pebble struck him cleanly, blood spraying from the impact, but he didn''t bother to dodge.


    And, as I expected, the wound was gone almost instantly.


    His punch followed¡ªa vicious, calculated strike aimed squarely at my chest. But this time, I caught it.


    My hands, reinforced with solid stone like gloves, clasped his fist midair. The force still traveled through me, sending a tremor of pain shooting from my palms to my elbows, but I held firm.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    I tightened my grip, twisting his arm as I spun him in an arc, intending to hurl him back to the ground. Mid-spin, however, he did the unthinkable.


    He severed his own arm.


    The clean cut was immediate, and before I could even process it, his detached arm dangled uselessly in my grip. His other fist was already flying toward me, a fresh one regenerated in its place.


    The strike was fast¡ªtoo fast¡ªbut I managed to duck just in time, narrowly avoiding the blow. The air around his punch howled as it passed mere inches from my head, the sheer force enough to make the building beneath us tremble.


    I summoned another wall in front of him just as his fist connected with it.


    The impact from his fist sent cracks spidering through the stone wall I''d hastily summoned. Before it could collapse entirely, I reinforced it, layering it with dense rock until his arm was firmly trapped. For a moment, he seemed almost puzzled, as if deciding whether it was worth severing his arm again. But he didn''t act immediately.


    That hesitation was my chance.


    In an instant, I summoned a stone sword into my hand, its jagged edges glinting with an unnatural sharpness, and swung it at his neck. The blade cleaved cleanly through, severing his head with a single stroke.


    His head spiraled into the air, a trail of blood marking its path above me.


    But then, it happened.


    The headless body didn''t crumble, nor did it start regenerating as I had anticipated. Instead, it exploded.


    A blinding burst of lightning arcs erupted from the torso, surging outwards in chaotic streaks. The energy slammed into me, searing my skin and filling the air with the sharp, acrid scent of burnt flesh. I stumbled back, clawing at my face and arms as the crackling remnants of the attack sizzled on my body.


    My essence surged, desperately working to heal the burns as fast as they appeared, but it took a toll. I could feel my reserves thinning, the essence draining faster than I wanted to admit.


    When my vision finally cleared, he was there again, standing just a few meters away.


    His head was intact. His body was untouched.


    And he was smiling.


    It wasn''t a victorious grin, nor a sneer. It was calm, deliberate¡ªa simple curve of his lips that mocked me in its serenity. He wasn''t even trying to hide it. He was waiting.


    Letting me make the next move.


    As if to say, go on, I''ll give you a chance.


    I clenched my jaw. Pride stirred in my chest, urging me to answer his mockery with sheer force. But deep down, I knew better. This wasn''t a gift. It was mercy.


    Still, arrogance has no place in battle, I reminded myself. If an opponent willingly gives you an opening, don''t see it as your shame but as their mistake. And if it''s not a mistake, make it one.


    I exhaled deeply, focusing on the ground beneath my feet.


    The issue was clear. I wasn''t in contact with solid earth. Floating above the ground meant I couldn''t summon my most powerful boulders or barriers. Still, that didn''t mean I was defenseless.


    Channeling my essence, I reinforced my body, encasing myself in an armored shell of dense rock. The layers hugged my frame tightly, rough and uneven, but sturdy enough to absorb direct hits. My stone sword, too, evolved¡ªits edges sharpened to razor precision, intricate cutting patterns etched along its blade.


    But my rune¡­


    A quick glance confirmed the truth. It was already a quarter disintegrated, the once pristine stone now marred by cracks along its surface. Every action I took brought it closer to breaking entirely.


    His rune, in contrast, appeared nearly untouched. The lightning-shaped emblem gleamed with an otherworldly intensity, not a trace of wear¡ªexcept...


    A crack.


    Barely perceptible, a hairline fracture near the edge of his rune caught my eye. It was tiny, but it was there. Likely a result of the self-detonation from earlier.


    It wasn''t much. But it was something.


    I exhaled again, slower this time, steadying my breath and preparing myself for what was to come.


    This wasn''t a moment for reckless pride or futile rage. This was a moment for precision.


    And now, it was time.


    The rain fell heavier now, drumming against the ruins of the cybercity, washing blood and soot into crimson rivulets that snaked through the shattered streets. The towering neon lights, once flickering symbols of progress, were dimming one by one as the storm raged above. Arcs of yellow lightning lit up the sky, their intensity rivaling the glaring red of the cybercity''s distant warning sirens.


    I took a step forward, my stone-encased feet crunching against the broken concrete. He mirrored me, stepping with deliberate calm, his movements eerily fluid. The yellow rune on his chest glowed brighter with each step, the crack along its edge pulsing faintly, as though mocking my observation.


    "Let''s end this," I growled, my voice barely audible over the storm.


    He tilted his head, still grinning, before vanishing in a blur of yellow.


    I felt the disturbance before I saw him. The air crackled, charged with static electricity, and I twisted instinctively. A bolt of lightning streaked from above, and he appeared within it, his fist descending like a meteor aimed for my head.


    I raised my arm, summoning a shield of stone just in time. The impact shattered it instantly, sending shards flying in every direction. The force pushed me back, my feet carving deep trenches into the ground as I slid.


    Before I could recover, he was already moving, zipping across the battlefield with bursts of lightning. A flash to my left, then to my right¡ªhe was everywhere and nowhere.


    I spun, slamming my hands into the ground. The earth beneath us trembled, and massive stone spikes erupted from below, spearing toward him like jagged teeth. He dodged most, his movements leaving trails of light in the air, but one caught his leg.


    Blood sprayed as the spike tore through his calf, but he didn''t falter. He grabbed the spike with his bare hands, the stone sizzling as lightning coursed through it, and snapped it clean in half before hurling it back at me.


    I deflected it with a wave of my arm, the projectile embedding itself in a nearby building, collapsing it in a cloud of dust and rubble.


    "Is that all you''ve got?" I taunted, even as I felt the strain on my rune.


    His grin widened, and he raised his hands to the sky.


    Thunder roared, and the heavens answered his call. Lightning struck down in rapid succession, each bolt hitting the ground with enough force to crater it. The strikes chased me as I dodged, leaping across the ruins, my rocky armor cracking under the relentless assault.


    I landed on what remained of a skyscraper, panting as I gathered my essence. With a sharp inhale, I thrust my hands forward.


    The entire building groaned before tilting forward, collapsing in a controlled avalanche of stone and steel. The debris surged toward him like a tidal wave, forcing him to halt his assault and focus on dodging.


    For a moment, I thought I had the upper hand.


    Then he appeared above the collapsing skyscraper, his body surrounded by a crackling aura of electricity. He raised his arms, and the aura expanded, forming a massive sphere of pure essence that hummed with destructive power.


    With a roar, he hurled it downward.


    The sphere struck the rubble, and the resulting explosion was catastrophic. The shockwave flattened everything within a hundred-meter radius, and the ground itself seemed to split apart. I was thrown back, slamming into the remnants of a concrete wall.


    Coughing, I climbed to my feet. My rocky armor was in pieces, my essence drained further from the constant healing. He emerged from the smoke, unscathed, his rune glowing brighter than ever.


    Enough.


    I slammed my hands into the earth, pouring the last of my essence into the ground. The entire battlefield rumbled, and a massive fissure split the earth open. From its depths, a colossal golem of stone and steel rose, its eyes glowing with molten light.


    "Let''s see you dodge this," I muttered.


    The golem roared and charged at him, each step shaking the ground. He leaped to meet it, his body a blur of light as he darted around its massive fists, landing blow after blow. The golem swung wildly, its massive arms crushing buildings and sending shockwaves through the city.


    In the distance, a few surviving citizens peeked from behind the wreckage. Some screamed, others sobbed as they clutched their loved ones. A child whimpered in the arms of an elderly woman, their eyes wide with terror at the destruction unfolding before them. They were ants caught in the crossfire of giants, and they knew it.


    I couldn''t afford to care.


    The few survivors scattered, their screams lost in the chaos. Some ran into the storm, their silhouettes swallowed by the rain, while others fell to their knees, praying to gods who wouldn''t answer.


    Despite the golem''s power, he was relentless. His strikes grew stronger, each one chipping away at the creature''s form. I joined the fray, flanking him and forcing him to split his focus. My sword clashed against his fists, each impact sending sparks and shards flying.


    Finally, he made a mistake.


    Distracted by the golem, he didn''t see the spike of stone I summoned beneath him. It pierced through his abdomen, pinning him in place. I didn''t waste the opportunity.


    Leaping forward, I drove my sword into his chest, aiming for his rune.


    But just as the blade made contact, his body exploded again, the lightning surge more intense than before.


    I was thrown back, my vision swimming. When I looked up, he was there, standing over me, his grin replaced by a cold, determined glare. His rune was cracked further, but it still pulsed with power.


    I struggled to rise, but my essence was nearly gone.


    "The Golem was clean," he finally said, with a grin.


    The last thing I saw was his rune glowing brighter than ever, a blinding light enveloping everything.


    Far away, the surviving citizens of the cybercity watched as the skyline disappeared in a burst of light, their world reduced to rubble.

 Friend

    I had already died. When, or how, I couldn''t say. All I knew was this new life, this borrowed body, and the alien power coursing through me¡ªthey didn''t belong to me. Not really. To be honest, I didn''t even know who I was. Where I came from, what mattered to me, or why any of this should mean something. There were only two words circling incessantly in my mind, urging me to acknowledge them.


    Eryxion.


    The moment I mouthed it in my thoughts, the thing hanging from my neck pulsed faintly. The rune. I couldn''t remember ever having seen it before, yet somehow, I recognized it. Eryxion¡ªthe name of this gleaming, volatile shard embedded in my collar. It carried the essence of thunder and lightning, wild and unrestrained, much like the thoughts in my head.


    The second word was quieter, subtler, but it carried a weight I couldn''t ignore.


    Lycoris.


    It came unbidden, instinctual. A name. My name? Perhaps. But it didn''t spark anything familiar, didn''t anchor me to any memory of a life before this one. Lycoris. It sat there in my mind like a placeholder, something left behind by whatever force had dragged me back into existence.


    I knew where I was, at least. In this game, this cruel, endless simulation of survival. I knew about the runes, the levels, the players clawing their way up a ladder that led only to more suffering. And I knew one undeniable truth: I had died. But why, or for whom? That knowledge eluded me, like smoke slipping through my fingers.


    It seemed whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªhad brought me back didn''t think I needed those answers. My purpose was simple: play the game. That was it.


    I let my head fall back against the fractured wall behind me, the jagged edges digging into my skin. The name "Lycoris" hovered faintly above my thoughts, teasing me with the possibility of identity. But I didn''t like it. It felt foreign, hollow, like a suit that didn''t quite fit.


    Turning my head slightly, I looked at the guy slumped beside me. He''d been eager to play, hadn''t he? I supposed I''d won. He wasn''t moving. Probably just taking a nap. Though, to be fair, I hadn''t really appreciated the bullet he''d put through my chest earlier. Still, I''d healed quickly. That much, at least, I could be grateful for.


    I''d been sitting here for what felt like hours, waiting for him to wake up. I didn''t know why, but the stillness didn''t bother me. I was smiling, almost without realizing it. My heart felt light¡ªtoo light for someone who''d just clawed their way back from death. It was as if I had everything I could ever want in this moment, right here in the ruins of a shattered world.


    The air was thick with ash and smoke, the skyline jagged with broken buildings and skeletal remains of a city that had long since fallen. But there was something oddly beautiful about it all. Maybe it was the quiet. Or maybe it was just that, for the first time in this second life, I didn''t feel like I had to move.


    So I stayed, leaning against the crumbling wall, watching the smoke curl into the horizon, and let myself enjoy the view of chaos.


    As if to lighten the mood further, the sun peeked over the horizon. The rain had stopped, and the clouds scattered hastily, retreating to unveil the first rays of sunlight. The light broke through the gray, painting the ruins in a soft golden hue. For a moment, it almost felt peaceful¡ªif not for the blood, the gore, and the bodies strewn across the battlefield.


    The sunlight grazed the skin of the man slumped beside me. He twitched, his body jerking awake as though the warmth had shocked him. His eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light. At first, he looked disoriented, his hands trembling as he regained awareness. The rune on his neck pulsed faintly, its glow healing ever so slightly with time.


    The moment he noticed me sitting nearby, his demeanor shifted. He scrambled to his feet, retreating several paces until there was a safer distance between us. His breathing quickened, and his lips moved as he struggled to form words.


    "Why... why am I still alive?" he stammered, his voice shaky as he instinctively summoned a thin sword of stone into his trembling hand.


    I didn''t know how to answer. Or rather, I hadn''t prepared one. But before I could think, before I could even form a coherent thought, the words spilled from my mouth effortlessly, as though they''d always been there.


    "Well, because you didnt die."


    He didn''t seem reassured. His grip on the stone sword tightened as his expression twisted in confusion. "What do you mean? Why didn''t you kill me? What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice cracking.


    "Why should I kill you?" I countered, my tone even.


    He hesitated, clearly thrown by my response. "You¡ª" he started but faltered. I could see the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of something that defied explanation.


    I sighed. "Look," I began, my voice softer this time, "I''m not who you think I am. This body, this power¡ªthey''re not mine. I only gained consciousness recently, not long before you decided to put a bullet in my chest."


    His confusion deepened. He pointed to himself, brows furrowed. "Do you know who I am?"


    I shook my head.


    "Maki? Zara? Kael?" he pressed, naming them as though testing for a spark of recognition.


    Again, I shook my head.


    He seemed lost in thought for a moment, staring at me with furrowed brows. I could see the weight of unspoken questions behind his eyes. Finally, I broke the silence, attempting to ease the tension with a smirk. "Hey, look, it was fun regardless, right? I mean, you and I are both standing here, no injuries. All''s well that ends well, right?"Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    For some reason, he exhaled sharply¡ªa sigh that sounded halfway between exasperation and relief.


    "So you''re not the guy who came to the cave before," he said, more a statement than a question.


    I shook my head once more.


    He scratched his chin, muttering under his breath, his thoughts clearly racing. "Just before I shot you in the chest... huh." He looked at me again, and there was a spark of understanding in his eyes. "I get it now."


    His words surprised me. Relief flickered across my face, and for the first time since this strange new life began, I felt something close to hope.


    "You do?" I asked cautiously, a faint smile tugging at my lips.


    He nodded, a thoughtful look in his eye, though he kept the stone sword in his hand. Whatever realization he''d come to, it was enough to calm the storm within him¡ªif only for now.


    He sat down, his body finally succumbing to its injuries. His movements were heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and pain, but it was the grim expression on his face that caught my attention. It was a look of someone carrying more than just physical wounds¡ªa burden far deeper than flesh. I didn''t know what had happened to him, but I doubted any words of mine could lighten his mood.


    "So, what now?" I asked, breaking the silence despite my better judgment.


    He didn''t answer. The moments stretched on, the stillness interrupted only by the faint hum of life returning to the ruins around us. As the sun climbed higher, insects began to stir, and distant bird calls echoed through the air¡ªa stark contrast to the blood-soaked scene we were still a part of.


    "If you aren''t the one who got them killed," he said finally, his voice low and measured, "then I have nothing to do with you anymore. Not that I could do anything to you with the power gap being so... obvious."


    His words were blunt, but there was a raw honesty in them. Whatever he had endured, it was clear that he was broken, perhaps even beyond repair. He stared at the ground as if looking for answers in the dirt and debris.


    "So, what will you do now?" I asked again, hoping to draw him out of his thoughts.


    This time, he glanced up briefly, his gaze heavy with an unspoken question. "What would you do?" he asked, throwing the question back at me.


    I blinked. Of course, I had no idea what to do. I mean, I''d just opened my eyes, been attacked, fought this guy to a standstill, and somehow ended up here. I didn''t even know whose body this was, or if its previous owner was dead. I didn''t know their story, their goals, or even their name.


    My eyes wandered to the sky. The clouds had cleared completely, and a few birds soared in the distance, their silhouettes cutting through the pale blue. A strange sense of clarity washed over me.


    "Maybe I''ll try the game," I said at last.


    That got his attention. He turned his head slightly, his curiosity evident. "You know about the game?" he asked.


    "Well," I replied, "I did belong to some level of this game in my... previous life."


    He stared at me, the faintest glimmer of surprise flashing in his tired eyes. "So, you''re reincarnated from within this game?" he asked, his tone sharpening with interest.


    "Looks that way," I said, shrugging. "Though it''s not like I remember much."


    "Interesting," he muttered, almost to himself. Then, after a pause: "You never played this game before?"


    I shook my head. "No. I don''t remember anything about it, apart from a few basic things."


    His brow furrowed slightly as he processed this. "So... you didn''t have this kind of power before?"


    "Not that I remember," I replied.


    "What about your fighting style? Your battle experience?"


    I thought about it for a moment. "Instincts, I guess," I said.


    His lips quirked, almost imperceptibly, into what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Interesting," he said again, leaning back against the wall. He seemed to be pondering something, though he didn''t share it.


    For the first time since our fight, the tension between us felt less like a storm waiting to break and more like the calm after. It was tentative, but it was something.


    Time stretched on as the aftermath of the rain began to fade. The sun warmed the broken ground, casting long shadows over the shattered ruins. The air smelled of damp earth and blood, a strange mix of renewal and destruction.


    I didn''t know why, but the urge to climb the game burned inside me.


    Why?


    To become stronger? Strength felt meaningless. To find out who I was before? I didn''t care enough to dig up a past I couldn''t even remember. To find someone? Maybe.


    But the reality was clear: climbing wouldn''t be easy. The path ahead would demand more than I had now. I couldn''t do it alone.


    The thought unsettled me.


    Needing someone felt... strange. Vulnerable. There was something about it that clashed with the quiet resolve that had been building inside me since I first opened my eyes in this strange existence. But even resolve needed more than just willpower. It needed support. A hand to catch you when you stumbled.


    I turned to the man beside me. His bruised and battered body spoke of a spirit that had been tested and broken, yet somehow, he endured. His face, despite its grim expression, carried a hint of unshakable resolve.


    "What''s your name?" I asked.


    He frowned, clearly displeased by the question. His gaze dropped to the ground, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn''t answer. But finally, he murmured, "Garron."


    Garron? The name felt heavy, burdened by something I couldn''t place. It didn''t resonate with me, but I let it pass. Names were just labels, after all.


    "I guess you really don''t have anything left to do," I said, attempting to break the tension. "Maybe you could try playing the game. You''re pretty strong¡ªI can tell."


    His face twitched, annoyance flickering in his eyes. Was it at my words? Or at the situation? Maybe he hated the sound of me even breathing in his presence. I ignored it and extended my hand toward him.


    "Why not help me climb the game, Garry?" I said, testing a nickname as if it might lighten the moment.


    The truth was, I didn''t just want his help. I needed it. Whatever this game demanded, I could already feel its weight pressing on my shoulders, and I wasn''t sure how far I could carry it alone.


    Suddenly, a notification flashed in my mind, crisp and undeniable:


    [Party Invite Sent to Garry.]


    He didn''t move. Head bowed, he seemed lost in thought, his shoulders tense with the weight of indecision. The silence stretched, each second feeling longer than the last.


    What was he thinking? Was he weighing my offer, or was he remembering something¡ªor someone? A past that had broken him, much like this world seemed to break everything in its path?


    And what about me? Why was I even reaching out to this man? What did I hope to gain?


    Maybe it was selfishness. Maybe it was desperation. Or maybe, just maybe, it was that small, quiet voice in the back of my mind whispering that this journey didn''t have to be walked alone.


    I kept my hand extended, even as doubt crept in. Maybe he didn''t want to team up. He was strong enough to climb the game solo¡ªperhaps he didn''t see the point in partnering with me.


    I was just about to drop my hand when he reached out and clasped it. His grip was firm despite his injuries.


    "I was planning on climbing the levels after you died," he admitted, his voice carrying a mix of bitterness and resignation. "I mean, you did die. But after this humiliating defeat, I don''t think I can survive on my own. Guess I''ll see how far you go."


    A new notification appeared in my mind:


    [Garry has accepted your party invite.][Garry joined your party.]


    For the first time, I felt something close to hope.


    Garron didn''t seem like the type who would stick around out of kindness. I could tell that this partnership was born more out of necessity than camaraderie. But that was fine. Partnerships didn''t need trust or friendship. They just needed a shared goal.


    As I glanced at the ruined city around us, I found myself wondering if this game would break us, too.


    No.


    Not yet.


    We would climb this game together, no matter how steep the levels ahead. One step at a time, through blood, through ruin, through the ashes of whatever this world threw at us. Together, we would face the impossible.


    For now, that was enough.

 Ascension

    "Do you remember your name, at least?" he asked, his voice calm but curious.


    I stared at him, my mind briefly circling around the word lingering above my head. Lycoris. The name felt foreign, like wearing a borrowed coat.


    "Call me Lukas," I said, letting the lie roll off my tongue.


    A brief smile tugged at his lips. "Did you make that up on the spot?"


    I chuckled softly. "Maybe."


    The sun warmed the ruins around us, its heat a new sensation for me. It was my first time truly feeling warmth¡ªat least, that I could remember. We strolled through the desolation of broken buildings and scattered debris, the aftermath of destruction blending into a strangely serene landscape.


    My rune, Eryxion, had fully regenerated, and I could tell Garry''s was close to being restored as well. He seemed calmer now, but the weight of something still hung over him, like a shadow he couldn''t shake.


    "So, why did you kill the owner of this body so eagerly?" I asked, not because I particularly cared, but because I could sense the emotional storm behind it.


    His expression didn''t change, the faint smile still lingering, but his voice carried the undertones of something darker. "He killed someone close to me," he replied.


    "Was it your friend?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued.


    "Friend, huh?" He paused, his eyes distant. "I don''t know if she saw me as one."


    I said nothing, letting him continue at his own pace.


    "Maybe she didn''t even think of me at all. Perhaps I just... treasured her."


    I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. His tone was even, but there was an unmistakable heaviness in his words. He kicked at a few loose stones on the path, like he was trying to appear indifferent.


    "The thing is," he went on, "I''ve already lost people close to me. This wasn''t new. I should be used to it by now."


    He paused again, taking one of his signature long gaps. I didn''t rush him, merely shifted direction to avoid a large crater littered with debris, and he followed without question.


    "What really gets to me," he said finally, "isn''t just losing them. It''s that I wasn''t powerful enough to save them. And when I was strong enough, I wasn''t there when it mattered."


    He didn''t look at me as he spoke, his gaze fixed somewhere far off. "Both times, I was the one left standing, staring at their lifeless bodies."


    I didn''t respond, steering us through the ruins as he fell silent again. His footsteps were steady, but I could feel the turmoil beneath them.


    "The brat," he muttered, "was just a convenient excuse. A reason to dump all this burden. All this guilt."


    I understood what he meant, even if I didn''t share his feelings. His pain was palpable, but it didn''t stir anything in me. No sympathy, no empathy. Just... nothing.


    Oddly, I wasn''t bothered by my lack of reaction. Should I have been?


    "Tell me," Garron asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "Did you ever have a friend in your past life?"


    The question caught me off guard. I thought for a long moment before answering.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "No," I said finally.


    He looked away, seemingly disappointed, his gaze landing on a group of birds picking at a rotting corpse in the distance.


    "But," I added, "I feel like there''s someone."


    He turned back to me, curiosity replacing the disappointment in his eyes.


    "I don''t think he was a friend. Not someone close to me, either," I said, my voice quieter now. My gaze drifted to the horizon as I spoke, almost as if I could see the person I was describing. "But I feel like I need to meet him."


    Garry''s brow furrowed slightly. "Is that why you''re going to play the game?"


    I considered his question, letting the silence hang between us for a moment.


    "Maybe," I said finally.


    The ruins stretched out endlessly before us, the sun climbing higher into the sky. For the first time, I felt like I wasn''t just walking forward¡ªI was being pulled, toward something I didn''t yet understand.


    "So how do we play the game?" I asked.


    Garry stopped mid-step and gave me a look, a mix of confusion and exasperation. "Seriously? Didn''t you say you knew some basic stuff?"


    To be honest, I only knew the broad strokes: levels, climbing, and some kind of goal at the end. The finer details? A mystery. I didn''t want to complicate things or admit ignorance, so I just shook my head.


    He mirrored the gesture with an exaggerated sigh. "Unbelievable."


    "How many Nyu do you have right now?" he asked, tapping his temple.


    I accessed the dump of information in my head. Tabs, menus, notifications¡ªmost of it had been noise to me until now. "225," I said after a moment.


    He snorted. "Figures. You''d need at least 320 to ascend to the next level."


    Great. So I needed to gather 100 more... like that was going to be easy. "How do I earn them?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.


    "Normally?" He started walking again. "You defeat others in the same level. Every win nets you 40% of their total Nyu. But, judging by the state of this place, there''s probably no one left here who even has that much."


    I trailed behind him, waiting for the inevitable "but."


    "Of course, you could wait for someone to gather enough and hope they show up. That could take an eternity, though. Or you could form a party... but," he glanced at me, pausing for effect, "luckily, you already have me."


    I grinned, sensing he had more to say. "So? What''s your brilliant idea?"


    He smirked, narrowing his eyes. "Since I already have over 330 Nyu, all you have to do is transfer the leadership of the party to me. Once I''m the leader, it''s an instant pass to the next level for both of us."


    "That''s it? Seems simple enough."


    He waved a hand dismissively. "Simple. And don''t worry, I''m not about to tric-"


    Before he could finish, I flicked open the party menu and tapped the option. A notification popped up almost immediately: [Party Leadership Transferred to Garry.]


    He froze, staring at the notification in disbelief. Then, he turned to me, completely dumbfounded.


    "Wait, did you actually just¡ª?"


    "Why are we still standing here?" I interrupted, grinning. "Let''s go already!"


    "R-right," Garry stammered, still looking half-confused. His hand raised, and he started dialing in the air, his finger swiping and tapping at nothing. It looked absurd, like a mime attempting to check his email.


    I tilted my head. "Why the finger? Isn''t that all in your head?"


    He ignored me, his attention locked on the invisible interface only he could see. "It''s been a long time since I''ve been in a party and ascended to another level," he muttered. He kept tapping at the air for another minute, his brows furrowing in concentration.


    "So, listen up," he finally said, still pressing invisible buttons. "Your body''s going to feel heavy when we get there. The pressure will be intense, like gravity''s trying to crush you."


    "Crushing gravity, got it," I replied, half-listening as I tapped my foot impatiently on the stony ground.


    "You might even get sick for a few days¡ªweeks, if your strength and aura aren''t up to par."


    "Sounds delightful," I said with a smirk, trying not to roll my eyes.


    He seemed oblivious to my sarcasm. "Also, I edited some party options to prevent... you know, misuse. I spent 300 gold to buy private chat access in the market. Should last us a month."


    "Wow, generous." My foot stomped louder on the earth, the rhythmic thudding hopefully sending him a message.


    He glanced at my foot but acted as though it didn''t bother him. After what felt like an eternity, he finally said, "Right. The next time you blink, you''ll already be in the next level."


    He sounded so proud, like a seasoned veteran explaining the basics to a wide-eyed rookie.


    I blinked. Opened my eyes.


    We were still standing in the same spot.


    I blinked again. Once. Twice. Three times.


    "Uh, Garry?"


    He didn''t answer. My patience frayed, my rune began pulsing faintly as my aura flared. Just as I was about to let my irritation loose, I blinked one last time¡ªslowly.


    And that''s when it happened.


    Mid-blink, my body felt weightless, like I''d been unmoored from gravity itself. My mind blanked completely, like a pause button had been pressed on my consciousness.


    When I opened my eyes again, the world had shifted.


    [You have reached Level 2 of Pillar 3!]


    A notification appeared in my vision, crisp and golden.

 Ascension II

    The sky was bright, an endless expanse of blue streaked with faint traces of white clouds. Golden grass stretched out for miles, swaying gently in the summer breeze. Butterflies fluttered lazily, oblivious to the intrusion into their serene world. It was hard to believe this was a "level."


    I stood there, arms outstretched, letting the sunlight wash over me. The air was crisp and clean, untouched by the stench of decay and ash that had clung to the previous level. My lips curled into an involuntary smile¡ªmy first real moment of calm since... well, since I''d woken up in this mess.


    "You''re acting like a tourist," Garry muttered behind me.


    I glanced over my shoulder. He was standing still, his eyes scanning the horizon with that perpetually grim expression on his face. His rune, Terrastone, pulsed faintly at his neck, still repairing the damage from our last fight. He was far from his full strength.


    "You''re too tense," I said, tilting my head toward him. "Enjoy the moment. You might like it."


    "Enjoy the moment?" he scoffed, his voice low. "Open your damn eyes."


    I frowned and turned my gaze back to the meadow. At first glance, everything seemed peaceful, but I could feel it now¡ªa subtle shift in the air, a disturbance that didn''t belong. The tall grass swayed unnaturally in several places, as though something large had brushed through it. I caught the faintest glimmer of movement in the distance, a shadow darting quickly before vanishing into the landscape.


    "Four," Garry said flatly.


    "Yeah, I know." I let out a slow breath, lowering my arms. The weight of the rune at my neck pulsed in tandem with my heartbeat, filling my body with a faint electric hum. My muscles tensed, ready.


    "They''ve been here longer than us," he continued. "They''ve already sized us up and made their plan. You''re smiling¡ªwhy the hell are you smiling?"


    "Because I''ve got you," I said, rolling my shoulders.


    "You''re insufferable," he muttered. "Listen, Terrastone isn''t at full capacity. I can handle two at most, maybe three if they''re weak, but¡ª"


    "You''re counting already?" I cut him off, smirking.


    "Pay attention for once," he growled, stepping forward to scan the tall grass. "They''re splitting up, trying to box us in. Stay close to me¡ªdon''t do anything stupid."


    "Stupid?" I tilted my head. "Me?"


    He shot me a sharp glare before crouching slightly, one hand pressing against the ground. The earth beneath him shifted subtly, responding to his touch. He was already preparing to defend, even in his weakened state.


    I flexed my fingers, feeling the energy of my rune surge to life. Sparks danced faintly at my fingertips, barely visible in the bright daylight. It wasn''t much yet, but it was enough to remind me of what I could do.


    "They''re closing in," Garry murmured. His eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze on the tall grass ahead.


    I didn''t need to say anything. I could feel it now, the weight of their presence pressing against us like a coiled spring ready to snap. My body thrummed with anticipation, the air around me charged with faint static.


    "Alright," I said, stepping closer to him. My voice was calm, almost casual. "Let''s meet them, then."


    The tall grass rustled again, this time louder, closer. Four distinct movements, each one deliberate and precise. The game was beginning, and they were already making their first move.


    Garry straightened, his stance steady, his eyes sharp. "Stay on my left. Watch your footing."


    I rolled my neck, the crack of lightning in my rune echoing faintly in my ears. My hands sparked to life, faint tendrils of energy curling in the air around my fingertips.


    The meadow fell silent for a moment, the stillness broken only by the faint rustle of the grass.


    And then the first figure stepped into view.


    The first figure to step into view was a man, broad-shouldered and dripping menace. His skin was raw and pocked, with faint trails of vapor rising off him. A corrosive stench hit my nose before I even registered the rune at his neck, pulsing a sickly green. Acid. Great.


    "Don''t breathe in too deep," Garry muttered under his breath.


    A second man emerged from the grass next, leaner but no less imposing. His arms gleamed unnaturally in the sunlight, metal creeping up from his rune like veins, coiling around his wrists and forming gauntlets.


    The woman was next, stepping out with deliberate, steady movements. Her presence was disarming, almost calm. Her rune glowed faintly at her collarbone, emitting a gentle aura. She looked harmless at first glance¡ªtoo harmless.


    And then there was the girl. She didn''t step out like the others. She appeared in a blur of motion, one second a shadow in the grass and the next, standing with a faint smirk, her short stature betraying the speed she clearly possessed. Her rune pulsed faintly, flickering like a candle struggling to stay lit.


    They spread out in a loose formation, the acid guy taking point while the others flanked, forming a wide semicircle. A classic maneuver. Not bad.


    "They''re testing us," Garry said under his breath, his stance lowering. His rune pulsed, faint tremors rippling through the earth at his feet.


    "Not very welcoming," I replied, sparks flickering at my fingertips. My tone was light, but my body was coiled, ready to react.


    The acid user spoke first, his voice like gravel. "Two fresh players. Shouldn''t have come here so soon."


    "And yet, here we are," I shot back, grinning. "What''s the plan? Jump us and divvy up the loot?"


    The man''s lips curled into a sneer. "Something like that."


    Before the words were fully out of his mouth, he flicked his hand, and a glob of greenish liquid shot toward us, hissing as it cut through the air.


    Garry was faster. His hand slammed into the ground, and a jagged wall of stone erupted between us and the acid, catching it mid-flight. The liquid sizzled and ate into the stone, but we were already moving.


    "Right side," Garry barked, and I turned just in time to see the metal user charging, twin blades forming in his hands mid-sprint. He was fast, the steel of his weapons catching the sunlight as he lunged for me.


    I ducked under his first swing, electricity crackling at my palms as I pivoted and aimed a strike at his side. He twisted, one of the blades dissolving into liquid and reforming as a shield to block my attack. The impact sent a jolt up my arm, and I barely avoided the follow-up strike as his second blade came sweeping toward my head.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Focus!" Garry growled, his voice strained.


    I spared a glance and saw him locked in combat with the acid user. The air around them was thick with vapor as Garry''s stone walls rose and crumbled in rapid succession, each one corroded by the acid. Garry''s movements were slower than usual, and I could tell he was still recovering.


    The wind shifted suddenly, and I felt it before I saw her. The girl was fast, darting toward me with a dagger in hand, her movements erratic and unpredictable. She closed the distance in a blink, and I barely managed to twist out of the way as her blade grazed my arm.


    "Annoying," I muttered, sending a crackling bolt of electricity toward her. She was gone before it landed, a gust of wind kicking up where she''d stood.


    "Having fun yet?" Garry called out, his voice tight.


    "Loads," I replied, dodging another swing from the metal user.


    The woman hadn''t moved much, staying back and watching with sharp, calculating eyes. Her hands glowed faintly, and I realized she was keeping the others in fighting shape, healing minor wounds almost as soon as they were inflicted.


    Garry noticed too. His movements faltered for a split second, his eyes locking on her. I didn''t understand why until I saw the look on his face¡ªa flicker of something I hadn''t seen before.


    "Garry," I barked, snapping him out of it. "Focus."


    He shook his head, his jaw tightening as he slammed another wall of stone into the acid user, sending him sprawling.


    "She''s got a healing rune," he muttered, more to himself than to me. His voice was quieter now, almost shaky.


    "Yeah, I noticed. So what?"


    He didn''t answer, but his grip on the earth faltered slightly, just enough for the acid user to recover and press the attack.


    The girl was back on me in an instant, her speed forcing me to stay on the defensive. The metal user wasn''t far behind, his weapons shifting seamlessly between offense and defense, keeping me off balance.


    "You''re trapped," the acid user said, his voice cold and smug. "Give up now, and maybe we''ll make it quick."


    I glanced at Garry. His blade was extended, Terrastone straining as he held off the acid user and kept an eye on the healer. He looked tense, distracted, his usual composure slipping.


    "You''re a mess," I muttered, electricity flaring in my hands. "Time to clean up."


    Garry''s eyes met mine, and I saw the flicker of anger return. Good.


    The net was tightening around us, but the real fight was about to begin.


    The metal guy swung wide with both blades, his footwork clean, movements disciplined. He was trained¡ªno amateur flailing here¡ªbut he didn''t account for one thing.


    Electricity loves metal.


    I ducked under one swing, letting it pass over my head, and extended my hand toward the blade in his other hand. Sparks danced along my arm, and I released a jolt, watching as the electricity jumped eagerly to the sword. His weapon became a conduit, and the current surged straight into him.


    The metal user''s body seized, his arms twitching uncontrollably as his rune fought to suppress the damage. I pressed the advantage, stepping in with a crackling palm aimed for his chest. He stumbled back, his armor forming instinctively to absorb the impact, but he was slower now, his movements less precise.


    "Not so tough when you''re the lightning rod, huh?" I taunted, electricity surging in my fists.


    The metal guy didn''t respond. Instead, he barked a sharp command to the wind girl, who blurred past me, her dagger slicing toward my leg. I twisted away, but her speed forced me to break my rhythm. She darted between us, her movements erratic, creating just enough of a distraction for the metal user to regain his footing.


    "She''s annoying," I muttered.


    Behind me, Garry was still locked with the acid user. I glanced over my shoulder to see Garry struggling to maintain his defenses as the corrosive attacks ate through his stone walls.


    "I''ve got this one," I called out. "Trade me!"


    Garry didn''t hesitate. He slammed the ground with his fist, sending a shockwave that threw the acid user off balance, and dashed toward the metal guy. The two clashed immediately, Garry''s jagged stone blade meeting the metallic sheen of the other man''s weapons.


    That left me with Mr. Acid.


    He sneered, his rune glowing ominously as he flung another glob of green liquid at me. I dodged to the side, the acid splattering on the ground and hissing as it ate through the soil.


    "You think you''re quick, huh?" he growled. "Let''s see how you handle this."


    He swiped his hand across the air, and a spray of smaller acid droplets shot toward me in a wide arc. I rolled to the side, raising my hand and releasing a burst of electricity. The bolt struck his shoulder, and he grunted in pain, but it didn''t slow him down.


    "You''re persistent," I muttered.


    The wind girl zipped past again, her dagger slicing toward my side. I spun, catching her wrist and yanking her off balance. She stumbled, and I drove my knee into her stomach, sending her skidding back across the grass.


    "No more interruptions," I growled, turning back to the acid guy.


    His rune flared, and a wave of acid surged toward me, faster than before. I leaped back, my body twisting mid-air as I fired another bolt. This one hit him square in the chest, and he staggered, his skin sizzling where the electricity met his flesh.


    "You''re done," I said, stepping forward.


    He raised his hand for another attack, but I was faster. Electricity surged through my body, and I drove my fist into his chest, the current exploding outward.


    The acid guy hit the ground hard, convulsing as my electricity surged through him. His hands twitched, desperately clawing at the dirt as if he could pull himself back from the edge. I watched as his rune¡ªonce glowing and pulsating like a toxic green heart¡ªbegan to destabilize. It flickered, dimmed, and finally popped like a bubble, releasing a faint hiss of noxious fumes into the air.


    His body went limp, and the acrid smell of his acid lingered for a moment before the wind carried it away.


    "One down," I muttered, turning my attention to the wind girl.


    The wind girl screamed, her voice high and raw with panic.


    She moved in a flash, faster than before, desperation driving her speed. Her dagger gleamed in the sunlight as she closed the distance between us. I raised my arm, catching her wrist mid-swing, and twisted it sharply. She yelped, her body spinning with the force of my motion, but she didn''t go down easily. Her foot came up, catching me in the side, and I staggered back.


    "Persistent little pest," I growled.


    She darted toward me again, her rune glowing faintly, leaving a trail of disturbed air behind her. I anticipated her movement this time, stepping to the side as she lunged. My hand shot out, grabbing her by the back of her neck, and I slammed her into the ground. The impact left her dazed, her dagger slipping from her fingers.


    I raised my hand, sparks crackling as I prepared to finish her off.


    "Wait!" she cried, her voice high and panicked. "Please¡ª"


    I didn''t hesitate. The jolt of electricity hit her square in the back, and her body went rigid. Her rune, a faint swirl of air on her shoulder, flared briefly before it began to unravel. The glowing lines fragmented and scattered into the wind, dissolving like wisps of smoke.


    She slumped forward, her breathing shallow, but she wasn''t dead. Not yet.


    Behind me, the fight between Garry and the metal guy raged on. The clang of stone against metal echoed across the meadow as Garry''s Terrastone blade clashed with the man''s conjured weapons.


    The metal user was faltering, his armor cracked in multiple places, his movements growing sluggish. Garry pressed the attack, his strikes heavier, more precise. He was going in for the kill.


    And then the healer stepped in.


    "Stop!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. Her hands glowed with a soft, green light as she positioned herself between Garry and the metal guy.


    Garry froze. His blade hovered inches from her neck, his body rigid.


    "What are you doing?" I called out, glaring at him.


    The healer didn''t flinch. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, as if she knew Garry wouldn''t strike her.


    "She''s just buying time for him to run!" I shouted, pointing at the metal guy.


    The metal user didn''t waste the opportunity. He staggered back, his armor dissolving into thin air as he retreated into the tall grass. Within moments, he was gone.


    "Damn it, Garry!" I snapped.


    Garry lowered his blade, his eyes fixed on the healer. There was something there¡ªrecognition, maybe even regret.


    "Harmonis," he murmured under his breath.


    The healer tilted her head, confused. "What?"


    I didn''t give her the chance to process his words. Electricity surged through my body as I stepped forward, my hand crackling with power.


    "Wait," Garry said, but it was too late.


    I thrust my hand forward, the lightning striking the healer square in the chest. Her eyes widened in shock, her hands instinctively reaching for the wound as the green glow of her rune flared violently.


    "Why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.


    Her rune began to disintegrate, the soft green light breaking apart into delicate fragments that floated upward before fading into nothingness. It was almost beautiful, the way it dissolved like dust caught in the wind.


    Her body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.


    Garry stared at her, his expression unreadable. His jaw tightened, his fists clenched, but he didn''t say anything.


    "We couldn''t let her live," I said, my voice cold and matter-of-fact.


    He didn''t respond. Instead, he turned away, his shoulders stiff as he surveyed the battlefield.


    The wind girl was still breathing, her body twitching weakly in the grass. The acid guy was gone, his rune nothing more than a faint scorch mark on the earth. The metal user had escaped, but his absence didn''t feel like a victory.


    "Let''s go," I said, wiping the blood from my knuckles.


    Garry didn''t move at first, but eventually, he followed, his steps heavy and deliberate. The silence between us was suffocating, but for some reason I didn''t care.


    This was the game. Mercy had no place here.