Place: Mana Security Division, West Wing — Eiyuuin Academy's Internal Defense Office
Time: 1:20 PM
The wine glass trembled in his hand.
Chief Guard Ragnar Feldan — the man in charge of all city-facility barriers and internal academy security — stood by the window of his personal office, staring out at the shimmering skyline of Shinkou City. But today… the gleam in the glass did nothing to calm him.
A low growl curled from his throat.
"How… in all the bleeding spheres of mana law… does a barrier rated Omega-Tier just—vanish—in the middle of the night?!"
His voice cracked like a whip through the cold office air.
Five figures stood before his obsidian desk — three security guards in standard armor, and two mage guards from the Eiyuuin Academy division, cloaks marked with the crest of the arcane tower.
All five flinched. Visibly.
Ragnar turned to them slowly.
His eyes were bloodshot. His hair slicked back too tightly. His coat, high-collared and lined with ceremonial gold, billowed slightly as he moved — but it wasn't the cloak of confidence.
It was theater. Rage barely masked with trembling ego.
"Let me be clear," he said, voice calm now — too calm.
"Someone broke into a facility guarded by sixty armed soldiers, eight barrier layers, and twelve mana wards… and none of you saw anything?"
One of the mage guards — a thin young man with trembling fingers — stammered, "W-we didn't detect any presence, sir. Not even magical residue. It was like the intruder—vanished into light."
"Vanished?" Ragnar hissed.
He raised his glass.
Then hurled it at the wall just behind them.
CRASH!
Glass exploded. Crimson wine splattered against the mana-proof barrier behind the guards like blood.
All five flinched backward in perfect unison.
"You imbeciles think this is a story to tell children?!" Ragnar spat. "Some 'phantom' thief bypasses every defense and disappears like a bedtime ghost?"
He paced now, shoulders tight, veins twitching in his neck.
"The press is already sniffing. The upper ward ministers are calling for blood. And the Emperor's grand-niece just filed a complaint about surveillance failure. Do you know what that means?!"
The guards said nothing.
He spun on his heel.
"DO YOU?!"
"N-no, sir," one whispered, nearly crying.
"It means I take the fall. ME. Not you rats. Not your pathetic shifts. Me. The scapegoat. The fool. The one who 'let a national secret get breached.'"
He slammed his palms onto the desk.
"And you think—your excuses will save you?"
Another tried to speak. "Sir, please, if you hearing our excuse i think you wil—"
"SHUT IT!!!" Shout feldan with wrath that he can`t hold back
Then he go walk to chain and just sat down. Slowly. Face in his palm, try to rethinking what he`s gonna do.
"…Get out of my sight."
They out from the door with head down and scared.
Silence.
Only the ticking of a broken mana clock.
Ragnar sat with his fingers pressing into his brow. Wine still dripped faintly down the wall.
"Who the hell is that…" he muttered. "And damn whoever broke that seal…"
Ragnar Feldan sat back into his chair, the shattered wine glass forgotten behind him. His breath left his lungs in shallow bursts, cold sweat prickling the back of his neck.
"…This is bad."
"The barrier I created… it was a fake. A shell."
His fingers dug into the armrest, trembling slightly.
"Just enough runes to pass inspection. Just enough shimmer to scare away attention."
"But if the plan goes wrong—if anything so much as cracks it—"
His eyes darted toward the bottom drawer of his desk.
A rune-lock shimmered faintly, pulsing in time with his heart.
"…We can't take that chance."
His jaw tightened.
"And if the Nine Magus find out the core wasn't protected by a real ward—"
"…If they realize I tricked the Arcane Audit Division—"
"I'm not just dead."
"I'm erased."
He leaned forward, gripping his forehead.
"At this rate…"
Location: Security Division Headquarters — Entrance Lobby
Footsteps echoed sharply against the polished marble floor.
Two men entered the building with quiet authority.
The first walked with measured elegance — tall, poised, dressed in a formal black overcoat stitched with fine silver arcane thread. A badge gleamed on his chest: the sigil of the Imperial Oversight Bureau of Arcane Defense, shaped like a serpent coiled around a glowing glyph.
His gaze was calm. Controlled. Dangerous.
The second man followed behind — thinner, quieter, wrapped in a white coat that hung slightly too large for his frame. His long, shaggy hair was unkempt, with thick bangs that completely shadowed his eyes. He kept his head down, hands clasped awkwardly, and his steps shuffled with hesitation — like he didn't want to be noticed at all.
His coat bulged with scroll tubes, crystal data sticks, and scanning instruments. He looked like a man who belonged in a lab, not out in the field.
They approached the reception desk without urgency.
The receptionist looked up — immediately stiffening.
The black-coated man gave her a polite smile.
"Good afternoon," he said, voice smooth as silk. "Apologies for the unannounced visit."
He reached into his coat and placed a silver emblem on the desk. It shimmered faintly.
[IMPERIAL OVERSIGHT BUREAU OF ARCANE DEFENSE]
Assault Response Division – Clearance Omega-7
The receptionist blinked.
"Ah—y-you're from the...?"
"My name is Alren Veylor," the man said calmly. "Field Commander and Legal Investigator. Class-S Arcane Breach jurisdiction."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Under Imperial Decree 41-B, I'm authorized to investigate any potential threat involving magical infrastructure or false warding. I believe you had such an incident last night?"
"I—I wasn't informed about this," the receptionist stammered.
"No fault of yours," Alren replied kindly. "We move fast. Emergencies don't wait."
He turned slightly, gesturing behind him.
"This is my associate, Dr. Kaelis Thorne. Entropy specialist. Magic decay analyst. Don't let the hair fool you — he can read a broken barrier better than most mages can cast one."
Kaelis gave a small bow, head still down. His bangs nearly hid his whole face.
"…Hello," he said softly.
Alren offered the receptionist a patient smile.
"Would you kindly inform Chief Feldan that we'd like ten minutes of his time?"
The receptionist stood hastily. "Y-Yes! I-I'll call him right awa—"
"There's no need."
Alren turned, already walking toward the corridor beyond the desk.
"We'll go directly."
"S-Sir, wait! Please! That's against procedure—!"
But they were already stepping into the lift, the doors sliding closed with a quiet chime.
The soft hum of the mana-powered lift echoed softly, a quiet rhythm of glowing conduits pulsing along the walls. Alren Veylor stood tall, arms folded neatly behind his back, posture composed. His expression, as always, was unreadable — carved from practiced calm.
Beside him, Kaelis Thorne leaned quietly in the corner of the lift. His shoulders were slightly hunched, not from weakness, but habit. One pale hand slipped into the inner pocket of his coat, and with a practiced motion, he popped a small capsule into his mouth and swallowed.
Alren glanced at him sideways.
"…Cold again?"
Kaelis gave a slight nod, bangs still obscuring his eyes.
"Yeah. Just… cold."
"No surprise. The tower's wards drain ambient heat. They were never designed for comfort."
Kaelis tugged his coat a little tighter around himself but said nothing more. The silence wasn't awkward — just familiar.
Then Alren's gaze shifted slightly, distant, as old memories flickered behind his eyes.
Ragnar Feldan…
I haven't seen his face in four was.
Back then, he greeted me with a glass of wine and two carefully rehearsed lies.
Always smiling. Always polite. But his words were stitched together like illusions — charming on the surface, hollow underneath.
He rose quickly after the Rekkai Border Trials.
They say he "handled" the fallout. But I read the transcripts. Witnesses vanished. Reports were sealed. And not a single mistake ever made it onto his record.
He isn't careless. He's a survivor.
Cowardly, yes — but only when cornered.
Otherwise? Cunning. Calculating.
Alren's jaw tightened just slightly, then relaxed again.
If the barrier failed under his watch… there's no chance it was just an accident.
He knows something.
He always does.
"You're quiet," Kaelis murmured, not looking up.
Alren blinked once, pulling himself back to the present.
"Just remembering the kind of man we're walking into."
Kaelis tilted his head slightly.
"…You think he's hiding something?"
Alren didn't answer right away.
Then:
"I think he already knows the truth… and he's trying to bury it before someone like us digs it up."
Kaelis pulled his coat tighter and muttered softly, "Feels like we're already knee-deep."
Alren allowed himself the faintest smile.
"Don't worry. I've got this."
A soft chime rang out.
The lift slowed.
and it opened the lift
Just don`t sneeze in front of me
A flicker of static rolled across the surveillance crystal embedded in Feldan's desk.
The image stabilized, showing yesterday's timestamp: Friday, 2:00 AM.
The footage was in monochrome mana-vision.
An unidentified figure in the Mana Core Facility's lower corridor blurred into motion, striking down two security guards with surgical precision. In the distance, another camera feed caught the shimmer of broken wards.
Feldan leaned back in his chair, watching the loop with narrowed eyes.
The heavy oak door to his office swung open without a knock.
Alren Veylor stepped inside, one hand still on the brass handle.
Kaelis Thorne followed quietly behind, the fringe of his bangs shadowing his face.
"Looks like someone's in trouble," Alren remarked lightly, glancing at the crystal's frozen image.
Feldan turned in his chair, a slow, controlled smile curving his lips.
"Well… if it isn't the Commander himself," he replied calmly, voice rich with false warmth. "Please — sit down, Mr. Veylor."
Alren crossed the room with unhurried steps, taking a seat on the white leather couch opposite Feldan's desk.
"And this one," Feldan continued, looking past him, "I suspect is your assistant."
"Ah, yes," Alren said with a friendly smile. "Dr. Kaelis Thorne — my colleague, and partner in this investigation."
Kaelis stepped forward and offered his hand for a shake.
Feldan's eyes flicked to it — then away.
"Sorry," Feldan said, tone smooth but dismissive. "I don't greet… creepy people. I'd rather shake hands with leaders, or those of higher station. As a noble, I prefer the company of the greatest royalty."
He reached for the bottle on the side table and poured dark crimson wine into two glasses — one for himself, and one he set carefully before Alren. The empty space in front of Kaelis was deliberately ignored.
"Just like you, my old acquaintance," Feldan said, handing Alren his glass with a prideful glint in his eye.
He chuckled softly, the sound polite but carrying a faint edge of mockery.
The room fell into a thick silence after Feldan's mocking remark.
Kaelis did not move, his extended hand calmly lowering back to his side. His face was unreadable beneath the shadow of his bangs — but his stillness made it clear: he knew Feldan was wrong.
Alren merely smiled faintly, accepting the wine glass without protest. No hint of offense touched his expression; instead, his eyes twinkled as though the insult had been a passing jest.
They both raised their glasses — only one of them drank.
Alren sipped slowly, rolling the liquid in his mouth before swallowing.
"…Great wine," he said warmly, inspecting the crimson swirl against the light. His fingers traced the curve of the glass. "It must be an expensive one."
Feldan smirked. "Of course. Amber Height Wines — the finest vintage since the end of the War of the Wrath Sky. Two hundred years in the making. You do remember the story?"
Alren set his glass down gently on the table between them. His gaze drifted upward slightly, as if seeing the memory himself.
"Yeah," he said softly. "That war…"
His tone shifted — slow, deliberate, like a voice guiding the opening of an old film reel.
"…Because of that, much of the world's land was destroyed. Cities torn from the map, erased by that happen."
The shadows in the room seemed to deepen as he spoke.
"Two hundred years ago… when the first meteor hit our planet, bringing with it the power of magic. Not only here — but we believe another world in our solar system was struck at the same time."
Feldan's fingers tightened slightly on his glass, but Alren continued.
"The impact shook the earth to its core. Mountains split. Seas rose. But our technology then was… advanced — so advanced, it allowed us to withstand earthquakes of any magnitude."
A pause.
"…Even so, what we didn't know was that the impact shook the whole world. Every corner. Every nation. And when the dust cleared…"
He leaned forward slightly, eyes locking with Feldan's.
"…only seventy percent of humanity was left standing."
The room was silent again, save for the faint ticking of the wall clock.
Alren's voice faded, the weight of his words lingering in the air.
Dr. Kaelis, who had been standing quietly, finally spoke — his tone soft but tinged with genuine amazement.
"…But where is the disadvantage?" he asked, almost to himself. "There was also an advantage… The world became stranger — more vast. Entire continents expanded. We've calculated the planet is now ten times its original size… yet the gravity remains perfectly normal."
His posture straightened slightly, his tone growing animated.
"And the resources — they became richer than ever before. Oil, coal, rare minerals… things we could never reproduce suddenly flooded the market. Even—"
"—And war happened again."
Feldan's voice cut through the air like a knife, halting Kaelis mid-sentence.
The scientist's words died in his throat. His shoulders stiffened; his head remained lowered.
Feldan leaned forward from his chair, his eyes fixed on Kaelis with an expression halfway between pride and warning.
"From every side," Feldan continued, his tone heavy with memory, "people clawed at the land — not just for wealth, but for dominance. They dug deep… and found more than they bargained for."
He rose slowly from his seat, glass of wine still in hand, and stepped around the desk.
"That day," Feldan said, pacing toward Kaelis, "we discovered more than gold and diamond."
He stopped just in front of the scientist, his voice lowering to something almost conspiratorial.
"There was also something called the Hasd. Born from the meteor. The gift that gave us magic…"
A pause. His smile thinned.
"…and the curse that walks among us."
Feldan's shadow fell over Kaelis.
"They can infect others. Change them. And sometimes…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "…they become something entirely new."
"Before the meteor fall it break and become fragments" sit down in his chair near his desk "and the meteor become smaller but still that small can destroy a wide city, and what is the advantage from this dr kaelis" saying those words to kaelis with cold eyes
He took a slow sip of his wine, but before he could speak further, Alren stood.
"The Hasd attacked our nations," Alren said, his voice steady but loud enough to fill the room, "devouring humans… and evolving."
Feldan's eyes flicked toward him, his lips curling faintly.
"The war began," Alren continued, stepping forward, "and all beings — elves, dwarves, demonkin, beastmen — united against them. Even our gods themselves interfered, descending from the divine plane to strike down the one who claimed himself as King of All Hasd… 'Yuab.'"
Alren's tone shifted, as if telling a legend etched in every history book.
"And the hero chosen that day defeated him — driving the Hasd into retreat. Some fled into space. Others… evolved to survive on Earth, hiding, waiting. Many returned to the meteor from which they came."
He took another slow step forward, eyes never leaving Feldan's.
"After the war… the meteor remnants themselves began to change. They evolved into something we now call dungeons."
Alren stopped just a step from Feldan's desk, lowering his voice slightly.
"Dungeons that can summon monsters endlessly. And when we kill those monsters, their bodies — through some strange magic — become resources. Oil. Iron. Minerals once rare are now abundant. Too abundant."
His hand brushed the surface of the desk, his fingers idly tracing a carved rune.
"But abundance has a price… doesn't it, Feldan?"
Alren straightened, stepping back just enough to give Feldan space, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.
"…But we won," he said. "People rebuilt from the ruins. So why," his gaze sharpened slightly, "are we prying into these topics now, Feldan?"
Feldan leaned back into his chair, one hand lazily swirling the wine in his glass. A slow, smug smile spread across his face.
"Have you ever heard…" He let the pause linger, savoring it. "…Kindranght?"
The moment the word left his lips, Alren's expression changed — from polite interest to a sharp, almost calculating seriousness.
"…Kindranght," he repeated quietly.
Kaelis tilted his head, his bangs still hiding his eyes, but the faintest shift in his posture showed he recognized the name too.
Feldan's smug smile deepened as he spoke.
"A new land. Formed after the Wrath Sky meteor strikes. Floating in the northern Pacific — between America and Japan, and close enough for Russia to claim it's practically theirs."
He tapped the side of his wine glass.
"And I'm not talking about some little patch of rock. Kindranght is enormous. Bigger than Madagascar? Please."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly.
"It's Russia-sized, Veylor. Because this world —" his hand gestured casually toward the window "— is ten times bigger than it was before the impact. A continent born overnight, rich with untouched resources, primal magic, and… other things not in any official registry."
Alren's jaw tightened slightly.
Feldan's tone turned almost mocking.
"Of course, the great powers decided they didn't want another global war."
He counted off lazily on his fingers.
"America — thirty-five percent. Russia — thirty-five percent. Japan — thirty percent. A neat little arrangement… on paper."
He picked up his wine again, swirling it.
"…But we both know paper deals burn quickly."
Feldan's gaze sharpened as he set his wine glass down with a soft clink.
"Shinkou City is near Kindranght, Alren," he said, his tone suddenly firm, the warmth in his voice now carrying a dangerous undercurrent.
He leaned back in his chair, studying Alren's face for any flicker of reaction.
"Do you not think it strange… that the tragedy yesterday happened here?" His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Alren's expression remained unreadable.
Before he could reply, Kaelis spoke up — his voice breaking the heavy silence.
"Wait… are you saying Kindranght's people have been—" He stopped himself, startled, the idea clearly too far-fetched even to finish.
Feldan didn't answer right away. He turned his head toward Kaelis slowly, letting the pause stretch before speaking.
"I don't know, Doctor." His tone was calm, almost conversational, but his eyes glinted with calculation. "What I'm saying… is that it's a possibility."
He rose from his chair, hands clasped behind his back.
"With the tragedy that happened yesterday," Feldan continued, pacing slowly toward them, "we are forced to consider the facts. The barrier I set in place… cannot be destroyed so easily. Not without an expert magician."
He stopped mid-step, studying Kaelis with a faint tilt of his head.
"…Or…" Feldan took another step closer, the sound of his polished shoes clicking against the floor, "…perhaps there is…"
Another step.
"…a traitor in this place."
Now only a pace away from Kaelis, Feldan bent forward slightly, his face close enough for Kaelis to catch the faint scent of expensive wine on his breath. The smile on Feldan's lips was thin and unsettling.
Kaelis held his ground but said nothing, the shadow of his bangs hiding his eyes.
Alren stood, breaking the tension with deliberate slowness.
"We'll see about that, Mr. Feldan," he said evenly, his tone stripped of any friendliness now.
Feldan's smile lingered like a shadow.
Alren returned it, but his was cooler, more deliberate.
"We'll just see the progress of this case," he said, stepping toward the door. "For now, we're going to need the security cam footage, all relevant logs… and access to the entire security system."
He walked a few more steps, then paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
"…And we'll also be taking some of the security tools Dr. Kaelis designed."
Feldan's brow furrowed. "Hm? Dr. Kaelis… made?"
Alren's smile widened just enough to show a hint of satisfaction.
"Oh, you didn't know? This entire facility's security framework — the wards, sensors, arcane locks — was built by him."
Feldan blinked, his calm faltering for the first time.
"Wait… what?"
Kaelis lifted his head slightly, his bangs still shadowing his eyes. He gave a small, almost embarrassed chuckle.
"Oh, yes. But it's just… a small thing. Nothing special."
Alren pushed the door open. "Well, Chief Guard, we're off. Let's hope our next meeting is somewhere outside the job."
He stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Feldan stood frozen for a heartbeat before slowly lowering himself into his chair.
He reached for his desk's arcane terminal, tapping in Kaelis's name.
The results filled the screen.
For several seconds, Feldan just stared. His smirk was gone, replaced by something sharper… and a hint of surprise.
"…So," he murmured, leaning back in his chair, "that's who you are."
Feldan's fingers drummed on the desk as the search results finished loading.
The glowing runes scrolled across the crystal screen, projecting lines of Kaelis's file into the air.
"…Kaelis Thorne," Feldan muttered. "Arcane entropy specialist… theoretical anomaly mapping… and—" his brow arched "—former Head of Applied Warding at the Imperial Academy?"
The records flickered through, each line more curious than the last.
—Designed the first dual-phase mana shield capable of resisting Tier-8 destructive spells.
—Developed the spectral grid sensor arrays now standard in military airships.
—Published twelve papers on the stabilization of volatile leyline fractures.
Feldan's eyes narrowed.
"…And sealed by the Imperial Council? That's rare."
The file shifted.
A different section appeared. The text was older, the font a duller gray.
—Lead architect of the Tesseran Gate Project (classified incident).
—Incident Report: Gate collapse, forty-seven casualties, containment breach lasting three days.
—Officially absolved of blame by Council inquiry. Voluntarily resigned from the Academy two months later.
Feldan leaned back slowly, the chair creaking.
"…So that's it." His voice was low, almost to himself. "The prodigy who flew too close to the sun. Built miracles… then burned in his own fire."
His gaze lingered on the last lines of the file:
—Current Status: Independent consultant. Field assignment under Commander Alren Veylor.
Feldan chuckled under his breath, though there was no real humor in it.
"…No wonder you're hiding behind him now. But brilliance doesn't just disappear… and men like you don't stay in the shadows forever."
He closed the file, the crystal's light dimming to nothing, and sat in silence for a long moment.
Place: First Floor – Lobby, 1:42 PM
The polished elevator doors slid open with a faint chime.
Alren and Kaelis stepped out into the lobby, the muted sound of quills scratching and papers shuffling filling the space. The receptionist looked up, half-expecting them to stop, but Alren walked past without slowing.
Only when they were clear of earshot did he glance sideways at Kaelis.
"You didn't get mad back there."
Kaelis tilted his head slightly, his bangs casting shadows across his eyes.
"…Why would I?"
"Because Feldan insulted you," Alren said plainly.
Kaelis shrugged. "If I let every insult stick, I wouldn't have room in my head for anything useful."
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Besides… he doesn't know me well enough to offend me."
Alren chuckled under his breath. "Practical. I like that."
They turned down the hallway toward the east wing.
"Come on. Let's hear what Security has to say."
Place: First Floor – Security Office
The footage rolled in shaky blue tones.
On-screen, a masked, hooded figure — identity completely obscured — faced down armed guards.
"There," one of the facility guards said, pointing at the feed. "That's Garrison-7 — had a rifle on him right before it happened."
They all watched as the intruder produced a smoke bomb, the bridge filling with thick haze. Two soldiers staggered back moments later, clutching their helmets as a piercing tone rang through their comms.
"Suit comms hacked," muttered the shorter guard, still clearly unsettled.
The figure darted for the upper walkway, only to be shot mid-sprint. His body twisted, falling — but before hitting the ground, a mage guard appeared, casting a spell in his direction.
The feed glitched. The figure was gone.
"Dr. Any words you want to say?" Alren asked quietly.
Kaelis shook his head once, his voice calm. "No… not at all."
Alren leaned back, watching the frozen last frame. "Looks like our target might be a hacker. But…" He glanced sideways at Kaelis. "…most hackers don't vanish into thin air under mage fire."
Kaelis didn't look away from the screen. "Which means we're not dealing with just a hacker."
Alren tapped the console with a finger. "Pull mana trace readings from that last second. If he used any arcane tech to disappear, it'll be in the residue."
One of the security staff hesitated. "…Sir, we already tried. There's nothing. It's like he wasn't even there."
Alren stared at him, eyes wide. "What—are you serious?"
He snatched the mana detector off the console — a sleek band of metal and crystal — and held it to his own forehead.
Kaelis stood calm. "Yeah. No anomaly. This thing's still good."
Alren lowered it slowly. "…So what now?"
"I'm going back to base," Alren said. "The higher-ups need this report now."
"Okay." Kaelis turned away.
Alren blinked. "Huh—hey! Where are you going? You're not coming with me?"
"Nah." Kaelis waved him off without looking back. "Got something to do here. I'll file my part later and take a bus home. See ya."
He raised a hand over his shoulder in a lazy wave, already heading the other way.
Alren stood there for a moment, then shook his head with a quiet sigh. "Unbelievable."
He left the building, slid into the black Imperial sedan waiting outside, and pulled away toward base.
One of the guards jogged up as Kaelis was about to leave.
"Doctor? Can I ask you something?"
Kaelis stopped. "What is it?"
The guard flipped open a laptop. "We found this log. Thought you might want to see it."
Kaelis leaned in casually — and froze.
:: LOOP INTERFERENCE DETECTED ::
SYSTEM OVERRIDE — EXTERNAL LAPTOP TRIGGERED
CHEAT LOOP DEACTIVATED — CAMERA RESTORED
His jaw dropped, but no sound came out — just a sharp intake of breath.
"This is the log we found. Maybe you kno—"
Kaelis suddenly grabbed the laptop.
"AAAGH!" The guard flinched at the outburst.
"Ah—right—okay, good, nice work, thank you! Hahaha! So that's how it is. Alright, I'll take over from here, okay?" Kaelis's voice was just a shade too quick, a bit too light.
"But sir, maybe we shou—"
"NOPE! You're good, okay? This time I'll take the log and all surveillance data for now."
He started edging backward toward the hallway. "Just tell everyone they can go home early. Good luck!"
Before the guard could reply, Kaelis spun on his heel and headed for the security office at a brisk pace.
The place was empty when he slipped inside and shut the door.
He set the laptop on the desk.
The crystal screens around him flickered in the dim light.
Kaelis exhaled once — then opened the file.
Kaelis stared at the screen, fingers hovering over the keys.
"Huff… so this is what that kid meant about 'something he did'…"
He ran a hand down his face, muttering under his breath.
"…Haaahhh. I need to wipe this cheat detector before anyone starts asking me questions."
His eyes scanned the lines of code one last time before his hands moved, deliberate and precise.
The late-afternoon sun cast long shadows across the courtyard.
Shinya Sihara stood by a row of blooming lilies, watering them in slow, steady arcs. The scent of damp earth hung in the air.
On the porch nearby, Gai sat cross-legged, arms folded, a wild rye cigarette dangling from his lips. He watched with the quiet patience of a bodyguard who'd been at this too long to be bored by silence.
A faint breeze stirred the leaves.
"You really have the time for this?" Gai asked at last.
Sihara didn't look up. "If the flowers die, the place feels dead. This flower's the only one I've kept since my grandma… Back then, she was the only one who stayed by my side."
He brushed a petal gently between his fingers.
"By the way, Gai-san — why aren't you protecting the others? My three siblings are out there on vacation. Why not go with them?"
Gai scoffed. "Tch. Those aren't people worth protecting. Not interested in seeing them at all."
"You really don't care, huh?" Sihara said quietly.
Gai looked at him sidelong. "No. And they don't care about you in the slightest. So why the hell should you care about them?"
Sihara shook his head. "It's not about me caring. It's your job to protect them."
Gai leaned back against the post, letting out a slow stream of smoke. "Don't worry. They've got plenty of other bodyguards watching them. They'll live."
There was a pause. The only sound was the quiet trickle of water from the can.
"…I heard you got sick yesterday," Gai said finally.
Sihara kept watering, eyes on the flowers. "Just a cold. Nothing worth worrying about."
Gai smirked faintly. "Mm. You know… you're a bit taller now."
Sihara glanced at him over his shoulder, one brow raised. "…Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Look at you! Last time, you were just as tall as my belly, but now you're almost up to my neck!" he said in shock.
"Is that so?" Sihara replied casually.
"Hah... (sigh). Anyway, I'm gonna go look for something to eat. Just call me if you need anything," Gai said, then walked away.
"Okay," Sihara answered.
He watched Gai go inside the house and thought,
Yesterday, a lot of things happened. That day changed my whole life.
Then the story shifted into a flashback — back to the moment after they disappeared.
Flashback
The moment Sihara touched the electricity core, light swallowed him whole. In an instant, he was pulled into the digital void — straight into the laptop where Galia resided.
A distant roar of waves reached his ears, carried by a gentle sea breeze. The wind brushed against his skin, mingling with the soft chirp of birds.
His body lay still, face pressed against the ground. Groaning, Sihara tried to open his eyes, squinting at the bright blur until his vision slowly came into focus. He was lying in a vast grassland… and not far away, a beach glistened under the sun, the sea stretching endlessly.
Wait… wasn't I just in the facility? He remembered the sharp pain in his right shoulder where he'd been shot. But when he looked—nothing. The wound was gone.
"GAAAAAALLIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAA!!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, calling for his friend. No answer.
"Where am I? What is this place?" he muttered, his thoughts racing. It's impossible to just… change places instantly.
He tried to reason it out. "A breeze sky… beautiful view…" His eyes widened. Ting! "Aha! I know! I'm dead! Ha ha ha! What other logical explanation is there? I'm dead, and this must be my final resting place!" he declared with absolute conviction.
…Ten seconds later, his brain caught up.
"...…Hmmm. So… I'M REALLLYYYY DDDDEEEAAAAAADDDD?!" His voice cracked into a horrified scream. "WHAT IS THIS PLACE?! WhereamrightnowwhatishappeningIwasinthe FACILITYnowsomehowI'minsomeplaceIdon'tevenKNOW!AndnowwhatamIgonnadoWhatamIsupposedtodo, SCREW THIS SHIT!"
He panicked, throwing his hands in the air, his voice echoing into the endless horizon
"What now? What must I do now?" Sihara muttered, his voice cracking as tears started to form. "I was supposed to have a cheat… but now I'm in a place I don't even know!" He sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "Heuuh… I need to go back… I need to go back because—"
He froze mid-sentence.
"Wait…" His expression shifted from teary panic to a slow, dawning realization. The sadness melted away, replaced by a completely deadpan, blank stare.
"…Did I…"
His face stayed still, eyes half-lidded, as if his brain had suddenly hit a loading screen.
Sihara's eyes glazed over. His mouth moved on autopilot as he began muttering to himself.
"…figures…everythinginhismiserablelife'sbeenawful… born in thewrongneighborhood, gottheworstgrades in school, firstcrush turnedout to be datingmybestfriend, trippedinthemiddleofassemblyinfrontofthewholeclass, failedtheonlyjobinterviewIeverhad, gotshot yesterday, andnowapparentlyi'mintheafterlifeornotafterlifeidontknow…"
His voice got quieter, but the grumbling didn't stop. "…justonce… just once…couldn'tsomethingnicehappenbeforeIgetisekai'd…"
He stared blankly at the grass, then let out the most pathetic sigh in human history.
"Besides… this place has no people. Only me… just me. Which means…" Sihara's eyes began to widen, pupils dilating like someone who just figured out the meaning of life.
"…."
In one swift, unnecessary motion, he ripped off his shirt and threw it into the wind like a victorious gladiator. "PARADISE! IT'S A GODDAMN PARADISE!" he declared, spinning in place with his arms in the air.
"That's right! There's NOBODY here! NO ONE to tell me what to do! NO ONE to complain about my life choices! I'M ALONE—A WHOLE PLACE JUST FOR ME!"
He ran across the grassland barefoot, kicking up little tufts of dirt. "Never thought this day would come… BUT IT'S HERE, AND I'LL BE—" he leapt like a ballerina, doing a ridiculous mid-air twirl "—ENJOYING MY LIFE!"
"HAHAHAHA!" he laughed into the wind. "I'LL EAT WHEN I WANT! SLEEP WHEN I WANT! SCREAM WHEN I WANT! AND I'LL—" he skidded to a stop and struck a heroic pose "—BE NAKED WHEN I WANT!"
Then, from the corner of his eye…
A floating chibi-like cat hovered above the grass, staring at him with the most expressionless face in the history of expressionless faces.
Galia.
The two locked eyes.
Sihara's smile twitched. He slowly turned his head toward her like a man in a horror movie realizing he wasn't alone. His expression dulled until it perfectly matched Galia's. Blank. Dead inside.
They stared.
Galia tilted her head ever so slightly. Her voice was calm… way too calm.
"…Sooo… what… are you doing?"
Sihara's mouth opened slightly, then closed. He made a noise that was somewhere between a cough and a squeak. He couldn't answer.
The silence grew heavier. Somewhere in the distance, a lone seagull cried, as if mocking him.
Galia blinked once. "…Were you… celebrating?"
Still no answer.
"…Dancing?"
His lip twitched.
"…Or…" Galia's eyes narrowed just a fraction, "…were you… having a moment?"
Sihara's gaze drifted away, pretending to admire a random cloud like his life didn't just implode. But the air between them felt like it could snap in half from sheer awkwardness.
Finally, Galia sighed. "You know I saw everything, right?"
Sihara let out the slowest, longest groan of his life. "…Kill me."
Sihara had already slipped his pants back on and was buttoning his shirt as he strolled across the open grassland. Galia floated lazily beside him, tail swaying like a pendulum.
"Well, congratulations." Her tone was half-formal, half-sarcastic. "Now that you've released me from my seal, you can ascend to Cheat Level 1. And that means…" She spun in the air like a little fuzzy ribbon dancer. "…it's time to learn."
Sihara side-eyed her. "Level 1, huh? Sounds fancy. What can it actually do? Summon a giant sword? Make me handsome? …More handsome?"
Galia didn't even blink. "You wish."
They walked until they reached the center of the field. The wind shifted, carrying the scent of the ocean from far behind them.
"Alright," Galia announced, floating higher. "Now… open your status, Adventurer Sihara."
"Adventurer? That's new," Sihara muttered under his breath. "Okay then… Status, open."
A shimmering blue panel materialized in front of him. Numbers, stats, and strange icons blinked into place, some labeled in a language he couldn't read.
Galia hovered closer, tapping the panel with her paw like she was pointing at a menu. "Remember—your core abilities are Take, Gain, and Use. That's the foundation."
Sihara stared at the glowing words, his brow furrowing. "…Galia, you know… I've been thinking. Back when we first met, you said those three words like they were everything. But something's off."
Galia's ears twitched. "…Off?"
"Yeah." His eyes narrowed. "It feels like there's more to this cheat than just that. More than you've told me."
Galia stopped moving.
Sihara took a step toward her. "You do know how it really works, right?"
"Hm…" Galia glanced to the side, avoiding his gaze.
"You don't, do you?" His voice flattened, and his eyes half-lidded into that dangerous calm that meant his patience was thin.
"W-WAHAHAHAHA!" Galia threw her paws in the air and laughed far too loudly. "What are you talking about?! Of course I—" Her voice cracked mid-sentence, and she began wobbling in the air. "…uhm… uh…"
Sihara pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, slow sigh. "Galia… just tell me what happened."
The cat floated lower, her playful expression melting away into something more serious. "…Fine. But you'd better listen."
She took a deep breath, her tail curling in close. "I was sealed. Not locked away in a dungeon or trapped by accident — sealed deliberately. After the last hero… the one who had this cheat before you… died."
Sihara's jaw tightened. "…How?"
"They call it a tragedy. That's the word they use." She looked away, ears flattening. "But the story they tell… it's wrong. They say he turned evil. That he betrayed everyone. And that the gods themselves struck him down."
The wind grew still.
"…And you're saying that's not what happened?" Sihara's voice was low.
Galia's pupils narrowed to slits. "Not even close. He wasn't a villain. He was—" She stopped herself mid-sentence, her voice trembling, tail flicking sharply.
"…I… I don't remember…" Her ears lowered further, and her tail drooped. "It's… all blurred. Like pieces missing from a puzzle. I remember his face, his voice, the day he fell… but everything else is… just noise. Colors. Fragments."
Sihara stared at her in silence.
"All I know," she continued softly, "is that someone… something… wanted the truth erased. And they succeeded."
Got it — so inside the realm, Sihara does age normally (so if he stays here for years, he'll feel and look older), but once he leaves, his body rewinds to the exact age he was when he first entered.
If he re-enters, the "aging" timer picks up from that same entry age again.
Here's the rewritten and expanded scene with that rule built in:
Sihara crossed his arms, staring at the endless horizon. "Then… can you at least tell me where I am right now?"
Galia floated lazily in the air, paws tucked neatly. "This," she said, dragging her words like she was introducing a cursed amusement park, "is the Training Realm. A pocket dimension built to help you master the Cheat System without, you know…" She spun a paw in the air, "…accidentally destroying a continent or turning the moon into cheese."
Sihara frowned. "…You say that like it's something I would do."
"It's something you could do," she replied without blinking. "In here, no matter what you break, it'll reset. Trees grow back instantly, rivers refill, even the air cleans itself. Oh, and if you punch a hole in the sky, don't worry—it'll stitch itself back up."
Sihara blinked. "…What kind of psycho needed that feature?"
"You don't want to know."
He sighed. "…Alright, so what's the catch?"
Galia's eyes glinted. "The catch is… time."
Sihara's brow furrowed. "Time?"
She floated closer, lowering her voice like she was whispering something forbidden. "Time in here moves much faster than in the real world. One day here… is equal to fifty years outside."
Sihara froze. "…Fifty years."
"Yup."
"…So if I spend a week here—"
"The outside world will have aged three hundred and fifty years."
His eye twitched. "THAT'S NOT TRAINING! THAT'S A DEATH SENTENCE!"
"Relax," Galia waved her paw. "Your body ages normally while you're inside, but the moment you leave, it snaps back to the exact age you were when you first entered. It's like hitting a save point on your body."
Sihara's eyes narrowed. "…So I could be, like… an old man in here?"
"Yup."
"Wrinkly face, white hair, creaky bones—?"
"Exactly."
"…And then the moment I walk out, I'm young again?"
"Perfectly reset," she confirmed.
Sihara paused, thinking. "...So… if I come back in again later—"
Galia smirked. "You'll start from the same entry age. The 'age counter' only ticks while you're inside."
"…So basically, I can suffer in here, turn into a grandpa, walk out looking twenty again, then walk back in and—bam—grandpa mode instantly?"
"That's one way to put it," she said.
Sihara shivered. "…That's horrifying. And also… kind of amazing."
Galia tilted her head. "Depends on how much you like being old."
"…I'm already feeling back pain just thinking about it."
Sihara suddenly blinked, his expression shifting as if a stray memory slapped him in the face. "Wait… hold on… I got shot back then, didn't I?"
Galia, still lazily floating beside him, yawned. "Mhm. Right through the side. Looked painful. Probably was painful."
"…Probably?" Sihara frowned. "You were there!"
"I mean, I didn't get shot, so I can only imagine how it felt," she said, shrugging midair. "Anyway, you're fine now."
Sihara narrowed his eyes. "Fine? Last I remember, I was bleeding out like a bad action movie extra. How am I even walking right now?"
"Oh, that." Galia twirled a paw in the air like it was nothing. "I healed you back there."
"You… healed me?"
"Yep. Painless. Clean. No scars." She gave a smug little smirk. "You're welcome."
Sihara tilted his head. "…So, uh, how long was I… you know… out?"
Galia's tail swished casually. "Oh, about… six days."
Sihara froze. "…Six days?"
"Six days," she repeated cheerfully.
His face slowly turned pale. "Six days… here. Which means…"
"That's right," Galia interrupted, beaming like she was delivering good news. "Outside, it's been… three hundred years."
Sihara's eyes went wide. "THREE HUND—?! Wait—wait—wait—so you're telling me I've been napping for THREE HUNDRED YEARS in the real world?!"
"Pretty much." She gave an innocent shrug. "But hey, look at the bright side—you're alive. And also technically a time traveler now."
Sihara's jaw dropped. "A TIME TRAVELER WHO MISSED HIS OWN FUNERAL!"
The ground suddenly began to tremble beneath Sihara's feet. At first, it was just a faint vibration—like distant thunder—but then the rumbling grew into a violent quake that almost threw him off balance.
"Uh… was that an earthquake?" Sihara asked, gripping his knee.
Galia's ears twitched, her floating body swaying slightly in the air. "No… this is different…"
Before he could respond, a deafening CRACK split the air. Right in front of them, the grassy field tore open, and jagged stones pushed up from the ground. Lightning—pure, blinding-blue electricity—crawled along the rocks like living snakes.
The stones twisted unnaturally, clumping together as the electricity sparked louder and louder. Then, like some nightmarish birth, a massive arm formed—its surface rough like granite, but glowing with veins of pure lightning. The arm rose, slammed into the ground, and another emerged. The rumble intensified until the entire form of a massive golem stood towering over them, its body a fusion of rock and pulsing blue light.
"This… is not good, shounen…" Galia's voice trembled—actually trembled. Her usual smug tone was gone, replaced by genuine fear.
Sihara blinked. "What do you—"
The golem's head slowly turned, its face—or what passed for one—locking onto them.
"E-E-ELECTRO GOLEM!!!" Galia squeaked, her fur puffing up as she dove down toward Sihara's shoulder.
The golem roared—or maybe it was the sound of electricity splitting the air—and then its massive right fist lit up, buzzing with lethal energy.
It marked its target. Them.
"Run, run!" Galia screeched.
They both bolted across the field, grass whipping at their legs as the thunderous footsteps closed in behind them. Each step felt like a hammer smashing into the earth.
"IT'S GETTING CLOSER!" Sihara shouted, his voice cracking.
The air flashed blue as the golem's punch came swinging down. Instinct took over—Sihara threw up his shield, the energy barrier flaring into life.
The blow landed with an earsplitting CRASH.
The barrier shattered instantly, like thin glass under a sledgehammer.
"Wha—"
BOOM!
The force launched Sihara like a ragdoll. His body slammed into the ground far away, rolling across dirt and stone before skidding to a stop.
"SHOUNEN!!!" Galia's scream cut through the electric storm.
Sihara groaned, forcing his eyes open. His side was wet—blood. His ribs screamed with pain, his arms shook just holding himself up, and his left leg… wouldn't move.
"…Broken," he muttered through clenched teeth.
The golem's massive shadow loomed over the field, its crackling form advancing slowly toward him.
Sihara's breathing came in ragged gasps, pain flaring with every movement. The golem's thunderous footsteps shook the ground as it closed in.
His mind raced. Think, think, think!
Then it hit him—Galia had given him a beginner skill earlier. He'd almost forgotten.
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a small, ordinary strip of rubber.
"Rubber? Really? You gonna bounce your way outta this?" Galia snapped, panic making her voice shrill.
"Watch," Sihara growled.
He focused—pouring his cheat's energy into the rubber. The strip warped, its texture shifting, color darkening, until it swelled into a small, round sphere.
He yanked the pin.
PSSHHHH!
The sphere exploded into a thick, choking cloud of black smoke that billowed across the field. The crackling silhouette of the Electro Golem blurred, its glowing eyes flickering in confusion.
"Now!" Sihara hissed.
They sprinted toward the treeline, Sihara half-limping but pushing through the pain. Behind them, the golem swung blindly, smashing apart the ground where they had just stood.
The smoke thickened, buying them precious seconds.
They burst into the shadowy woods, weaving between trees as the distant sound of lightning cracked behind them.
Then—
SYSTEMNOTICESYSTEM NOTICESYSTEMNOTICE
Hostile attack detected: LV 1 Electro Golem — Electro Punch received.
Activating passive skill: LV 1 Auto-Healing.
Activating passive skill: LV 1 Impact Resistance.
Calculating damage reduction… 32% mitigated.
Fractured bone status: stabilizing.
"Wha—" Sihara blinked mid-run, his ears ringing from the voice in his head.
SYSTEMNOTICESYSTEM NOTICESYSTEMNOTICE
Bleeding slowed. Mobility partially restored.
"I—" he stumbled for a moment, glancing at Galia, "—why didn't you tell me the cheat has this?"
"I—" he stumbled for a moment, glancing at Galia, "—why didn't you tell me the cheat has this?"
"Had what? What happened, Sihara?" she asked, darting beside him in midair.
"You don't know?" Sihara shot back between breaths.
"What are you—"
WHACK!
The sound was sickening. Galia's eyes went wide for a split second before her body went limp, her tiny frame sent flying backward like a ragdoll. She hit the ground with a dull thud.
"Galia!"
Sihara's head snapped toward the source—shadows moving between the trees. Low growls. Yellow, beady eyes reflecting faint light. Then they emerged—short, wiry, canine-like figures gripping crude weapons.
Kobolds.
And not just one. A dozen. Maybe more.
One of them snarled, swinging the bloodstained wooden club it had just used to knock Galia out. Another jabbed a jagged spear in his direction.
"Oh no nope nope nope—" Sihara muttered, panic overriding the pain in his leg.
He lunged toward Galia, scooping her up in both arms. Her small weight pressed against his chest, still unconscious, her faint breathing the only reassurance she was alive.
The kobolds barked guttural commands to each other and charged.
Sihara didn't wait to see how fast they were—he ran. Every step sent fire through his broken leg, but adrenaline kept him moving. Roots and stones snagged at his feet, the sound of claws scraping bark growing closer behind him.
He darted left, then right, weaving through the thick woods. The pounding footsteps of pursuit never fully faded, but they were… a little further back now.
Finally—he spotted a wide oak with a trunk split down the middle, forming a narrow hollow just big enough for two. He slipped inside, pressing his back to the rough bark, holding Galia tight.
The kobolds thundered past, their snarls fading into the distance.
Silence.
Only then did Sihara let out a shaky breath, his heart still slamming in his chest.
"…What the hell is this training realm?" he muttered under his breath, glaring into the dark forest.
Sihara scanned the hollow. On the far side of the split trunk, he spotted a small, dark hole—barely wide enough for Galia's small form.
Perfect.
"Sorry, but you'll be safer here…" he murmured, gently sliding her into the hollow. Her tiny fingers twitched in her sleep, but she didn't stir.
He straightened, turned, and tightened his grip on the crude sword he'd scavenged earlier. The kobolds' snarls were getting closer again—no more running.
"Alright, dog-lizards… come get me."
They broke through the underbrush, yellow eyes glinting. Sihara took a stance, ignoring the pounding pain in his leg. The first one lunged—he sidestepped, slicing across its arm. Another came from the right—he ducked, slashing upward.
For a moment, adrenaline made him think he might actually win.
Then the forest shook.
THUD.
THUD.
Something huge pushed through the trees, each step snapping branches like twigs. The kobolds scattered back, growling low but submissive.
It stepped into view.
An ogre.
Towering, muscle-bound, skin like weathered stone, tusks jutting from its jaw. In its hand—an impossibly long, jagged spear that hummed with some strange energy.
Sihara froze.
The ogre didn't roar. Didn't charge. It just lifted the spear, aimed—
—and threw.
The air itself seemed to tear as the weapon ripped forward, moving faster than his eyes could track.
SHUNK!
White-hot agony exploded in his abdomen. His mouth opened in a silent scream. The force lifted him off his feet, slamming him back into the dirt.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
New Skill Acquired: LV 1 Missile Javelin — Learn the technique of accelerating thrown weapons with devastating force.
Passive Acquired:Pain Nullification (Death Threshold) — Suppresses pain during fatal damage.
His vision darkened at the edges. Blood filled his throat. The last thing he saw was the ogre looming over him, retrieving its spear.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Player Status:Dead
Training Realm Protocol Engaged — Death detected within simulation.
Revival in progress…
Everything went black.
…
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
You have been revived in the Training Realm.
Health fully restored. Injuries removed.
Passive bonus retained: Missile Javelin Mastery — Beginner Tier.
Sihara's eyes snapped open—and he was back at the very edge of the hollowed oak, the forest unnervingly quiet.
"…Oh," he whispered, glancing down at his intact belly. "Well. That's… new."
Sihara gasped—this time, it wasn't a dream or a memory.
He looked down… and there it was. The jagged, lightning-veined spear lodged deep in his abdomen, just like before. The pain was there—raw, immediate—but muted, like it was wrapped in layers of ice.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Auto-Healing — LV 3
Healing rate increased. Severe injuries can now be recovered mid-combat.
"Guess… I'm not dead yet," he muttered, lips curling into a grim smile. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his teeth a deep crimson.
With both hands, he gripped the spear's shaft. Muscles strained, veins bulged, and with a sickening SHLUKK, he yanked it free.
Lightning crackled along the weapon, dancing across his arms before fading into his skin.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Passive Learned:Spear Stance (Beginner) — Increases precision and power when wielding polearms.
Temporary Buff: Weapon Affinity — Spear active for 10 minutes.
His breath steadied. Something was different. His heartbeat… slower. His vision… sharper.
And then—
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Adrenal Surge Triggered
Combat Focus — Enhanced Reflex Mode.
Warning: Neural strain possible if used consecutively.
Sihara's eyes flared gold. The glow wasn't just light—it pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, each throb sending waves of strength through him.
The kobolds that had lingered at the edges took a cautious step back. Even the ogre tilted its head, as if sensing the shift.
He rolled his neck, planting the spear butt-first into the dirt.
"Alright…" His grin widened, blood still painting his teeth. "Let's see who dies this time."
Got it — so we'll make Spear Stance progression much harder, with the beginner stage needing LV 99 before advancing, then LV 99 Intermediate before Master.
That means Sihara's slaughter is so insane he skips massive amounts of grind instantly, which makes the scene even cooler and more shocking.
Here's the rewrite:
The kobolds closed in—snarls low, weapons raised, their breath hot in the cool forest air.
Sihara stood in their center. Blood seeped from the hole in his belly, but his golden eyes burned with a predator's focus. He shifted the spear in his grip, stance dropping low.
The first one lunged.
SHUNK!
A single thrust pierced through its eye socket, skull bursting in a spray of bone and brains.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Spear Stance — LV 1 → LV 24 (Beginner)
He didn't even glance at the notification.
Two more rushed him from behind. Without turning, he spun the spear backwards, splitting one's throat open in a red fountain, then reversed the shaft to shatter the other's sternum, the wood snapping ribs like twigs.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Spear Stance — LV 24 → LV 67 (Beginner)
More came—four at once, screaming.
Sihara's movements became fluid, vicious. The spear became an extension of his body—thrust, rip, spin, cleave. One kobold was impaled through the mouth, another gutted so violently its entrails slapped wetly onto the ground. Blood sprayed across his face, but the golden light in his eyes only blazed brighter.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Spear Stance — LV 67 → LV 99 (Beginner) → Intermediate Unlocked
Three seconds. Ninety-nine beginner levels—gone.
The next wave hit him like a tide. He didn't retreat. He stepped in.
Intermediate stance took hold—his body moved sharper, faster, every attack a perfect balance of speed and killing power. A kobold lost its arm before it could even swing. Another's head was taken clean off, spinning mid-air before landing with a wet thud.
Blood pooled beneath his feet, steaming in the cold air.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Spear Stance — LV 12 (Intermediate) → LV 54 → LV 99 (Intermediate) → MASTER RANK ACHIEVED
All stance movements perfected. Maximum lethal efficiency.
The battlefield froze.
Dozens of kobold corpses lay broken, split, or dismembered around him. The survivors—those foolish enough to still breathe—backed away in terror, their snarls replaced by choked whines.
Sihara lifted his spear slowly, letting the blood drip from its tip. His smile was faint, but the teeth behind it were red.
The golden light in his eyes burned like a promise: this was only the beginning.
The last few kobolds broke and ran, yelping in terror.
Sihara's eyes tracked them, the spear spinning lazily in his hand.
Then—his grin widened.
He crouched low, channeling the memory of the spear that had torn through him earlier. Muscles coiled, golden light flooding his limbs.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Skill Unlocked — Missile Javelin (Ogre Class)
Channel devastating force into a single spear throw. Pierces armor, bone, and terrain.
"𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍… 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐄𝐄!"
His roar shattered the air as he hurled the weapon.
The world blurred—
FWOOOOOOM!
The spear ripped through the forest like a thunderbolt, splintering a massive oak into flying shards. Kobolds in its path exploded into red mist, their limbs scattering into the undergrowth. The earth quaked where the spear buried itself, leaving only silence and the reek of blood.
The distant crash carried far.
Far enough to reach the thing that had first skewered him.
A shadow shifted in the trees. Massive. Slow. Heavy.
The ogre turned, its piggish eyes narrowing as it caught sight of the carnage.
But before it could fully face him—
CRUNCH
Sihara was already there.
One step. Two steps. A blur of gold and blood.
The ogre blinked in surprise as Sihara wrenched his spear from a still-twitching kobold corpse at its feet.
Behind him, the shattered bodies of the fleeing kobolds lay in pieces, scattered like leaves in a storm.
Sihara's voice was low, almost playful.
"Your turn."
They stood motionless at first—two predators locked in a silent duel of wills.
The air was heavy. The wind barely dared to pass between them.
Sihara's fingers tightened on the shaft of his spear.
He spun it vertically, the steel head blurring in a perfect arc from right to left.
The motion was slow at first, deliberate, then faster—whoosh, whoosh—until the blade caught the last rays of the afternoon sun and flared like fire.
Step by step, he began walking forward.
The dirt under his boots crunched, small pebbles rolling with each footfall.
The ogre mirrored him, its grotesque frame lumbering forward with a predator's patience, its massive iron spear dragging a shallow trench in the ground.
Neither broke eye contact.
The tension swelled—then snapped.
Both surged forward, battle cries tearing through the air like war horns.
The ogre moved first.
Its colossal spear lashed forward, the tip a blur aimed to impale Sihara straight through the heart.
The force of the thrust sent leaves and dust scattering in a wide shockwave.
But Sihara wasn't there.
In a flash, he vaulted upward, his spear tucked close, boots landing for the briefest instant on the shaft of the ogre's weapon.
Using it as a springboard, he twisted midair.
"It`s that all you have got" said Sihara taunt the ogre and then he throw kobold knive to he`s cheek and make him bleed
The ogre snarled in frustration, yanking the spear upward in a vicious, instinctive motion.
The sudden force hurled Sihara backward—but he flipped cleanly, landing on his feet with a predator's grace, spear leveled.
The ogre's breathing was ragged now, a faint tremor in its stance.
Blood streamed down its left flank in thick, steaming rivulets from earlier strikes.
Sihara's sharp eyes noticed the shift in weight—its left leg was struggling.
It was time.
He darted forward, low and fast, his spear tip kissing the dirt before it came sweeping upward.
SCHRRKKK!
The blade buried itself deep into the ogre's thigh, cutting through muscle and scraping bone.
The beast roared—not in words, for it had none—but in a raw, guttural bellow that shook the trees.
Its knee buckled, the leg half-useless now, forcing it into a partial crouch.
Sihara disengaged instantly, leaping back several meters, the spear still dripping with the ogre's black-red blood.
He shifted his stance, planting his feet wide.
Both hands gripped the shaft as golden energy began to surge into it, sparks dancing up and down the weapon like miniature suns.
"...Javelin MISSILE!"
The spear left his grip with a thunderous crack, a streak of light screaming through the air.
It struck the ogre dead in the chest.
THRRRRAAACK—BOOOOM!
The impact tore straight through the monster's ribcage, the force hurling its massive body back several meters.
Chunks of armor and bone clattered to the ground.
But somehow, impossibly, the ogre stood again—shaking, bleeding, yet upright.
And then, it laughed.
It was a hideous, broken sound, somewhere between a wheeze and a wet gurgle.
"...hhhhnnnnhhhh-hhhuuhhhh…"
No words. No taunts.
Just that awful, rattling noise that crawled into the spine.
Sihara didn't blink.
Not a drop of sweat touched his brow.
His breathing was calm, steady, as if the entire battle so far had been nothing more than a warm-up.
Slowly, almost lazily, he began to walk toward the monster again.
The wind shifted.
The air around him began to hum—low at first, then louder, the sound building with each step.
Sparks crackled over his shoulders and chest, racing down his right arm in violent arcs.
The smell of ozone flooded the clearing, and faint tendrils of smoke curled up from the ground where his boots stepped.
The ogre's heavy breathing grew faster.
It didn't charge this time.
Its massive frame trembled—not from exhaustion, but from something else.
Fear.
This wasn't an ordinary technique.
This was the power he had claimed from the Electro Golem weeks ago—one that few ever lived to see.
Skill: Lightning Annihilator.
The hum turned into a shriek of pure energy, the arcs of light around him whipping like chains in a storm.
Every step he took toward the ogre was punctuated by a snap and a scorch mark in the dirt.
By the time he stopped only a few meters away, the light around his arm had condensed into a blinding, searing glow—too bright to look at directly.
The sheer heat from it rippled the air.
His voice came low, heavy with static:
"…Lightning Annihilator."
And then—he was gone.
The space between him and the ogre vanished in a single heartbeat.
An instant later—
SKRRRRAAACK—KHHHHHHHHHH-BOOOOOOOOM!!!
A pillar of lightning erupted around them, so bright it turned the whole clearing white for a split second.
The explosive sound cracked the air like the sky itself had been torn in half, echoing through the forest for miles.
When the light faded, the ogre was gone.
Its upper body had been obliterated entirely, reduced to charred fragments scattered among the burning trees.
Only the blackened, twitching lower half remained, crumpling forward with a final THUD into the smoldering dirt.
Sihara stood amidst the scorched earth, faint arcs still crawling along his arm.
His face was unreadable.
His stance steady.
The silence that followed was broken only by the soft crackle of fading electricity.
The last traces of lightning faded into the air, leaving only a burnt smell and a shallow haze of smoke drifting across the clearing.
Sihara exhaled slowly, lowering his arm. His muscles still buzzed faintly from the voltage, but his stance didn't waver.
For a heartbeat, everything was still.
Then, the delayed toll of battle began to creep in—
A sharp ache along his side.
A burning throb in his shoulder from where the ogre's spear had grazed him earlier.
His breathing grew heavier. The ground beneath him seemed to tilt.
Not yet… stay up…
But the moment he took a step forward, his knees buckled.
The world wavered at the edges of his vision, the smoke blurring into vague shapes.
He forced himself to straighten, but his body refused to obey.
A dull thump echoed in his chest—once, twice—before the strength drained from his legs entirely.
He fell to one knee, spear tip sinking into the dirt for support.
His grip loosened… and the weapon slid from his fingers.
…Tch.
Guess… that's it for me.
The sound of boots crunching dirt reached him—faint at first, then louder.
Someone was approaching from directly ahead.
Through the haze, he caught the shape of a figure.
Their outline wavered, distorted by his failing focus.
He couldn't make out a face—only the glint of something metallic in their hand.
The steps stopped just a few meters away.
For a second, neither moved.
The air felt strangely heavy, thick with an unspoken presence.
Sihara's vision narrowed to a dark tunnel.
The last thing he registered was the stranger's silhouette, standing in silence over him. Then—blackness.