It was a rainy day when I finally fell.
I would remember it even in the afterlife—the moment the blades of those closest to me were pulled from my chest. The memory was sharp and cold, like ice running through my veins. It wasn't pain that stayed with me—it was the betrayal, the way their faces didn't flinch as they drove the steel in. Even now, I couldn't tell if it had been mercy or cruelty that had ended me. Perhaps, in the end, there was no difference.
I woke from my sleep, the sound of rain pattering against the roof above. Today felt… different. Not just because I was finally going to receive a class—something that would decide my future—but because, honestly, it didn't feel exciting. I had imagined it would be a moment of triumph, a step into some great adventure. Instead, all I felt was the weight of expectation pressing on my chest. I just wanted a life that was… normal. A life where I could eat, sleep, and wake again without gods, wars, or prophecy hanging over me.
I got dressed quickly and left for the Awakening Ceremony, held in the center of town. The streets were slick with rain, the cobblestones glistening under the gray sky. Shops were shuttered, people hurried along with heads bowed, umbrellas wobbling in the wind. My eyes caught a building of stone and wood as I approached, sturdy yet unassuming. It stood silently among the streets, almost as if it had grown from the earth itself.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The scent of wet stone and candle smoke filled the air. About ten people were already gathered, scattered unevenly throughout the room. Their faces were a mix of excitement and nervousness, though it was hard to tell who was who beneath their soaked cloaks. The number didn't matter; what mattered was the moment, and the pressure that filled the space like a physical weight.
An old woman stepped onto a small stage in the center of the room. She moved slowly, but her presence commanded attention. Her eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanned each of us like a predator assessing its prey. When she spoke, her voice carried across the room, strong and unwavering.
"Today is the day you will remember forever," she said. "It is the day you receive your class—and with it, the day you begin your journey. You will decide whether to fight for humankind against the false idol worshipers."
Her words barely registered with me. I had never cared much for the gods, or for who worshiped whom. Religion had always seemed like a game played by those who wanted power without effort. Still, I knew the world was at war. The Seven Kingdoms bled endlessly, their armies clashing while smaller nations, towns, and villages cowered under the threat of annihilation. None of it made sense. None of it seemed necessary. And yet, here I was, about to step into it.
Before I knew it, it was my turn. I felt the eyes of everyone in the room press down on me as I stepped onto the stage. The old woman guided me to the pedestal at its center. I placed my hand on the crystal orb resting there, feeling its cold surface beneath my palm. It shimmered, swirling with countless shapes that seemed to dance and shift with every thought I had, before finally settling on the image of a sword.
"It seems this young man is the fifth to receive a combat class," the old woman said. Her tone was neutral, almost bored, as though she had said it a thousand times before.
A few polite claps followed as I stepped back to my place. I kept my eyes fixed on the orb, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and unease. The woman spoke again, her voice low but sharp.
"If you focus now, a screen will appear before you showing your class. Remember—keep it secret. Every class is unique. No one else will ever have the exact same one."
I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure how I was supposed to "focus." I closed my eyes for a moment and pictured a screen in my mind, just as she said. Slowly, it appeared. Translucent, hovering just in front of me, glowing faintly in the dim candlelight.
Name: Amos Ryder
Class: True Hybrid
HP: 100 / 100
MP: 100 / 100
Strength: E
Intelligence: D
Constitution: E
Dexterity: C
Wisdom: S
My eyes lingered on one stat.
Wisdom.
It was far higher than it should have been for someone my age. Wisdom usually increased slowly over time, allowing the use of more abilities—but I was only eighteen. I had never even trained to sharpen my mind in the ways that could account for this. It didn't make sense.
Then I noticed something else. I had never heard of a class like mine. When I focused on it, a description appeared in my vision.
True Hybrid (Legendary Class):
A class that allows its bearer to use the abilities of other races and classes.
My breath caught.
People began filing out of the building, their chatter fading into the background. I remained standing, frozen, my mind racing. Eventually, I followed, stepping back into the rain-soaked streets, the air cold against my skin. I returned home and sat in silence, staring at nothing in particular, letting the information settle.
Then it hit me.
All the pointless wars.
All the suffering.
All the lives wasted for gods who treated us like pawns on a board.
If I had this power… maybe I could stop it all.
And in that moment, without fully understanding the cost, I made my decision. I would end the struggle.
I stepped into my backyard, the rain soaking my hair and clothes. I focused on the first and most basic ability I could access—one of the most well-known among the vampire race: Blood Reinforcement.
I drew my katar and made a small cut on my finger. A bead of blood formed, and I pressed it against the blade. The moment it touched the metal, the blood was absorbed, sinking into the weapon as if it were alive. The katar began to glow faintly red, a thin aura pulsing slowly around it.
Heart racing, I approached one of my training dummies. I swung once. The blade cut far deeper than it should have—slicing cleanly through straw and biting into the wood beneath with ease.
I froze, staring at the gash. This wasn't normal strength. And for the first time, I felt something colder than fear.
Power.
A notification appeared in the corner of my vision:
–5 HP
It all made sense then. Using vampire abilities drained my life with every activation. The system didn't cheat; it punished misuse, rewarded caution, and made even the simplest ability a calculated risk.
I returned inside and pulled an old map from my closet. The map was worn, the edges frayed from years of neglect. It showed dozens of towns scattered across the borderlands. The closest lay just outside human territory.
Grimrest.
A small undead settlement. My first target.
But I couldn't do this alone. I needed numbers—an army, even if it was weak. As I planned, a darker thought crept into my mind, one I hadn't expected to entertain. A slave. One could make things much easier. Even if I hated the idea, it was efficient. Necessary.
I opened my safe. Inside was a single gold coin—my life savings—and the money left from my parents' deaths in the war. I took the coin, closed the safe, and left again.
Back into town, toward the slave traders. My first step toward Grimrest, my first step toward power, and the first of many compromises I would make.
The rain fell steadily, but I didn't notice. My eyes were fixed on the future, on the war, and on the path I had just chosen.
A path that would make me king.
A path that would demand everything of me.
And a path from which there would be no turning back.