The ascent begins. In the cold shadows of the Rift, a weak hunter discovers the lethal rhythm of his new soul.
Entering the Abyss
The crowd swarmed before the Rift. Ambition and despair collided in a ceaseless, deafening roar.
Hunters shouted to recruit teammates while others were already brawling before even stepping inside. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, iron, and smoke. Kael moved slowly, slipping between bodies, invisible among the shadows. No one called out to him. No one looked to bring him into their fold. In a place where ego was measured by the size of one's blade, he was just another face. He was dressed too simply. He had no flash, no rank.
Before him, the tower dominated everything. It was a column of obsidian rising toward a sick sky torn by streaks of violet. The structure seemed to watch those who approached. It was a promise of ascension or a promise of death.
A line for solo players snaked toward the entrance. Kael joined it. There was no camaraderie here. Every step forward felt like an early goodbye. Violence lived here like a natural breath; a man had his throat slit for a bag, a woman screamed over a stolen weapon. No one reacted. Death was the local currency.
When his turn came, Kael looked up at the portal. it was a fissure in space, bordered by pulsing mauve energy. His heart hammered against his ribs. You can still turn back...
He thought of Liam. One month. That was all the time left.
He stepped forward. One pace. Then another. He plunged into the light.
The First Floor
The cold seized him immediately. It was brutal and liquid. His body reformed in a different reality.
A long corridor stretched out before him. Stone walls were marbled with blue glyphs. Green torches were embedded in the rock, casting a spectral light. Every shadow seemed to breathe. Kael advanced cautiously, his hand still empty of his sword.
He heard screams in the distance. There were growls and the sound of metal meeting flesh. Other hunters were living—or dying—somewhere in this darkness.
When the laughter arrived, everything stopped.
It was a child's giggle. High-pitched. Cruel. Then came the footsteps. They were fast. The sound grew sharper, closer.
And then, he appeared.
A goblin. Small and twitchy, its body was covered in scars. It had eyes of sick gold and a mouth full of fangs. It ran its tongue between its teeth with a disgusting sound. In its hand, it gripped a rusted dagger.
Kael raised his fists. The goblin approached slowly... then it lunged.
The Baptism of Blood
Time seemed to dilate.
The blade swung down, whistling toward his throat. Kael froze—then a memory emerged: the dragon's gaze, immense and infinite. This monster before him was nothing.
He dodged.
The metal struck the ground, sending sparks flying. Kael stepped back, his breath hitching. The monster cackled and charged again. The assaults were rapid and precise. Kael dodged again. And again.
I am... faster?
His body responded before his mind could even give the command. He moved with the fluidity of a predator. The goblin, confused, let out a growl. Its attacks became frantic.
"I need a weapon."
An idea flashed through his mind—the System.
"Inventory."
A blue window surged forward. The sword floated there, waiting for his call. Kael reached out. The weapon materialized in his palm, vibrating and bright.
Finally armed.
The monster hesitated for a split second. It was too late. Kael charged.
Steel Dance
The metallic clash rang through the corridor.
The dagger screeched against his blade. Kael pivoted, using the momentum. His foot slammed into the goblin's chest.
CRACK.
The creature flew backward and hit the wall, spitting black blood. Kael felt a thrill run through his muscles. His heart was racing.
"Weapon Mastery."
A violet aura erupted around him, coiling like a spectral serpent. His eyes tinged with the color of ink. The sword vibrated in his hand like an extension of his own will.
He moved. He was too fast. The goblin tried to block the coming strike.
Crash. Sparks. The air itself vibrated. Then, pure terror filled the monster's yellow eyes. Kael released his weapon for a fraction of a second and punched the goblin in the stomach.
CRUNCH.
The dagger fell. The beast collapsed on the spot. Kael caught his sword in the same motion, the blade singing through the air.
One. Two. Three. Five strikes.
Then, silence.
The goblin's body remained still for a moment before crumbling into bloody pieces. Its head rolled across the floor, eyes frozen in horror.
First Victory
Kael fell to his knees, panting. The aura faded, and reality returned. Before him, the blue screen of the System pulsed gently.
[YOU HAVE DEFEATED: GOBLIN SCOUT] [LEVEL +1 – YOU ARE NOW LEVEL 2] [STATS +1 – WEAPON MASTERY: LEVEL 2] [3 Points to allocate]
Kael laughed weakly, filled with exhaustion and disbelief. "I... I won."
The body disintegrated into black smoke. A scarlet glow remained on his fingers: the blood.
"For you, Liam..."
He stored the remains in his inventory. The path ahead continued, growing darker and narrower. Yet, each of his steps felt lighter.
Then he heard the growls. It was an echo of screams and high-pitched laughter. Turning the corner, he saw the room. There were thirty goblins. They were armed. They were waiting for him.
He took a deep breath. He tied back his hair. His eyes turned black with ether once more.
"Weapon Mastery."
The violet mist exploded again. Kael smiled—a cruel, almost happy expression.
"Come on. Show me how alive I really am."
The goblins shrieked. And the slaughter began.