Morning came too quickly. Miles stood across the street from the City Awakener Association, its towering structure of steel and reinforced glass looming like a silent judge. The emblem of the Association—an abstract sigil carved into black stone—caught the early sunlight, casting long shadows across the pavement. Hunters, rookies, and support staff moved in and out of the building with quiet purpose. Today wasn’t just another day. Today decided his future. Miles exhaled slowly, his breath fogging faintly in the cool air. Beneath his calm exterior, his pulse thudded steadily. The events of the previous night still lingered in the back of his mind—the blood, the fire, the choice he could never undo. He pushed the memories down. Focus. He adjusted the strap of the small pack slung across his shoulder and crossed the street, blending into the growing crowd gathering near the Association’s transport bay. There were dozens of them. Young men and women, most dressed in basic combat g

Hale turned around the corner and shouted. “Attack.” he yelled as he charged towards the Lizardcop, which was waiting around the corner. One of the trolls suddenly paused. Its head lifted. Yellow eyes narrowed. “ROOOAAAGH—!” The roar shook the cave. Step, step— Boros charged first. The stone floor cracked beneath his boots as mana surged through his body.His shield slammed forward as his axe flared with faint mana reinforcement. He crashed into the first troll like a battering ram, the impact echoing thunderously as stone-like skin cracked under the force. BOOM—! The creature staggered back, roaring in surprise as Boros followed with a brutal axe swing that carved into its thigh. “Too slow!” Boros laughed. The troll retaliated, swinging a massive fist down like a falling boulder—but Boros planted his shield and absorbed the blow head-on. CRASH—! Dust exploded outward. Behind him, Hale and Dren moved in perfect sync. Hale swept in from the left, longsword flashing as he

The instructor ordered a short rest. Kira sat down heavily, breathing shallow as she recovered her mana. Dren lay back against the cave wall, eyes closed in exhaustion. Kael remained silent, frustration etched deep into his expression. Boros leaned casually against his axe, completely unbothered. Minutes passed. Then Hale stood. “We move.” As they pushed deeper into the cave, the environment changed. The stone walls grew smoother, darker, veins of dull mana pulsing faintly beneath the surface. But the monsters they encountered were… underwhelming. Stone golems that crumbled under coordinated strikes. Undead skeletons that shattered like dry twigs. Each victory came easier than the last. Boros laughed loudly as he crushed a skeleton’s skull beneath his boot. “See?” he said arrogantly. “All that worry for nothing. If this is what an ‘evolved’ rift looks like, the Association seriously overhyped it.” No one answered him. Miles’ steps slowed. Something was wrong.

Standing in front of the lich in rigid, unyielding armor wasA skeletal knight. It was tall—far taller than any human—its body encased in thick, overlapping plates of blackened armor. The skull-shaped helm bore no expression, yet crimson light burned fiercely within its hollow eye sockets. Dark mist seeped continuously from the joints of its armor, pooling around its feet like crawling smoke. The massive broadsword it held rested loosely at its side. As if blocking Boros’ full-powered charge had required no effort at all. Kira’s fingers trembled around her staff. Her voice came out in a fragile whisper. “W-What… what is that thing?” Hale’s face had drained of color. His throat tightened before he answered. “A Death Knight.” The words dropped like a death sentence. The pressure in the hallway intensified, pressing down on their chests, making it harder to breathe. Hale swallowed and continued, his voice low but firm, as though forcing himself to remain composed. “Elite undea

Silence ruled the battlefield.Not the peaceful kind, nor the silence of rest—but the suffocating stillness that followed absolute annihilation. It pressed against the ears like a living thing, so heavy and oppressive that one could hear the frantic pounding of their own heartbeat screaming for escape. The ground was soaked black with blood long since cooled, its metallic stench lingering thick in the air. Bodies lay strewn across the ruined expanse like discarded puppets, their strings severed mid-performance, limbs twisted at unnatural angles.Broken weapons jutted from the earth like grave markers—chipped blades, splintered hafts, crushed shields—all bearing silent testimony to the brutality that had unfolded.At the center of it all stood Miles.No—remained was the more accurate word.He was still standing, but only just. His shoulders sagged beneath the weight of exhaustion, his breath ragged and uneven, each inhale scraping through his lungs as though they had been lined with br