The streets of Faust shone under the late sun — stones swept, stalls neat, people drifting like a slow, contented river. Some hurried, business on their minds; others lolled in pairs, murmuring over trivialities.This was Faust. Loud, proud, alive.“That whole mess six months back nearly gave me a heart attack,” a portly man in fine silk complained, fanning himself with a handkerchief. “If Faust had gone to war, we’d have been the first to go under.”“The monster siege from a century ago still haunts me,” another muttered, voice small. “I didn’t sleep for days after that.”A third man snorted. “Oh, please. You two are still clinging to that? It’s been half a year. Move on. We won’t see another crisis for a hundred years.”“What’s there to fear?” the fat man shot back, glaring. “If it weren’t for Kaelen and his crew, you wouldn’t even be standing here — you’d be dust in the wind.”He puffed up, proud as a peacock. “Kaelen is the pride of Faust. A true genius!”“Genius?” the skeptic sco

A cool breeze brushed across his face, cutting through the fog in his head. It was sharp, steady—enough to bring him back to focus.After switching tactics, Kaelen finally made it up onto the city wall.This time, it was empty. Not a single Lesser Earth Fiend in sight. Just the long, silent stretch of stone disappearing into the darkness.Old fortresses like this were built for war—thick, sealed, impossible to breach. Good for defense, sure, but they always had that one thing in common: cold, damp, and miserable inside. Like walking through a crypt.He leaned against the rough stone, the wind whistling by, carrying a damp chill that bit through his armor. From his pack, he pulled out a rolled-up sheet of parchment—thick cowhide, rough and sturdy.It was a simple map, a sketch of the Ancient Castle of Purple Thorn, drawn by Archbishop Aurelia herself. She’d handed it to him when she assigned the mission—to destroy the monster nest hidden within.He knew this place. Or… at least, he tho

Inside the dim building, Kaelen’s Light Staff cast a soft, steady glow. Shadows shrank back, giving him just enough light to move around. Each staff only lasted a week before needing a recharge at Faust—a minor hassle he’d deal with later.He stood still for fifteen minutes. Nothing stirred. Finally, he picked up a broken spear from the floor, feeling its weight. Dust coated the shaft. Rust ate through the tip. It was blunt, useless. An old weapon, forgotten long ago. With a shrug, he tossed it aside and moved on.From the outside, the building had seemed modest. Inside, a few twists and turns later, a faint light spilled ahead. The exit. Just beyond.Kaelen paused. Through the doorway, he saw them—Long-Tongued Monsters, scattered across the street. Pink tongues coiled and motionless, blending almost perfectly into the environment. At first glance, they looked like pillars, or just part of the scenery.A black crow dared to fly near one. Lightning-fast, the creature’s tongue shot out,

Kaelen sat on the cold, damp stone floor of the Ancient Castle of Purple Thorn, catching his breath. The castle hadn’t changed in millennia—still dark, still oppressive, and still dripping with that musty, damp smell that clung to everything.A flicker of awareness ran through him. On the surface, he looked calm, but his senses had already sharpened, taut as bowstrings.Something invisible was approaching. With his perception now at thirty, he could feel it—he couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but it was close. Too close. The instant it stepped into his attack range…Thunder Strike!Lightning erupted beneath him, and Kaelen sprang to his feet, energy crackling through the air. The surrounding shadows lit up in a blinding flash of white.The invisible enemy was revealed. Not a monster. An adventurer. His mind raced, instantly recognizing the mustachioed figure. Only one person could wield a Shadow Cloak like that—a cloak that made its wearer vanish completely.“Kaelen… you can detect me?”

A flash of golden light ran across Kaelen’s body—Level 11.Finally.Two new attribute points appeared before him, glowing faintly. This time, he didn’t dump them into Strength or Stamina like before. Those were already over twenty, and Intelligence wasn’t exactly doing him any favors right now. No, this time, he went with Agility. A little speed could go a long way in a place like this.He didn’t want to end up as some muscle-bound brute who couldn’t dodge a claw to save his life. In the Ancient Castle of Purple Thorn, speed wasn’t just a stat—it was survival. So, yeah. Agility it was.Level 11 AttributesMain: Strength 25 | Agility 15 | Stamina 26 | Intelligence 11Secondary: Perception 30 | Spirit 28 | Will 38Those were his raw stats, without any equipment buffs. With his gear on, Stamina hit thirty-one. Pretty damn solid, honestly.After hours of battling ghouls, exhaustion finally sank in. His arms felt like lead, his shoulders burned, and the adrenaline that had carried him thro