A ripple of unease stirred through the crowd. "Should we stop that?" someone whispered. Before them, a boy named Alex was the focus of brutal torment. A gang of youths relentlessly beat and taunted him until he succumbed, collapsing into unconsciousness. "He fainted," one sneered as they departed. "We can continue tomorrow."As the shadows deepened, Alex stirred. He pushed himself up, a sigh escaping his lips. "Do they never tire of this daily ritual?" A surge of anger hardened his tone as he muttered, "I wish they would just rot somewhere." Later, under the cloak of 10 PM, Alex limped to his door, his fingers clumsy with the key. Inside, he sought refuge in the bathroom, tending to his wounds with a weary resignation. A long, hot bath offered fleeting solace, washing away the day's accumulated fatigue. Finally, he retreated to his bed, the question echoing in his mind: Where had everything gone wrong?As he wrestled with the injustice of his torment, a consuming hatred for the world

The forest grew darker the deeper Alex ventured. The trees rose like pillars, their branches clawing against the gray sky, and every shadow whispered danger. The closer he moved toward the heart of the woods, the more frequently he spotted goblins. Their yellow eyes glinted between the leaves, some lurking in groups, others darting alone, but all of them circling the path like vultures sensing prey.Alex gripped the scythe in his hand. Its blade gleamed faintly even in the gloom, the curved edge promising death."These creatures shouldn't be higher than level ten," he muttered to himself.The bushes rustled. A goblin stumbled out, squat and green-skinned, its jagged teeth dripping with saliva. Alex's body moved before his mind had time to second-guess. His feet slammed into the ground, propelling him forward like a dart, and the scythe sliced through the air with a sharp whistle.By the time the monster realized what had happened, its head was already tumbling to the ground.A faint c

Before heading to the second floor, Alex stopped by the only potion shop on the first floor. The shop wasn't as large as one might imagine when thinking of a potion store. Shelves lined with bottles of every color filled the small space, and as he stepped inside, the mixed scent of herbs, minerals, and alchemical reagents wafted into his nose.From behind the counter, a woman dressed in a green top and black trousers approached."What would you like, sir?" she asked with a polite smile."I'd like to buy five Recovery Potions, about 200 daggers and twenty Shacklebane Elixirs—level range fifteen to twenty-five," Alex replied calmly.He paused, then added, "The Shacklebane Elixir… it's a potion that must be taken before a control-type skill is cast. It only works if the caster's level falls within the potion's range, and its effect lasts for about a minute.""Yes, sir," the woman nodded.She turned around, gathered the potions from a shelf behind her, and arranged them neatly on

The ground cracked beneath his feet, the pressure forcing him backward several meters before he could brace himself."Tch… it's fast for its size."The Iron Lash lunged again, this time in a brutal horizontal swing. Alex ducked low, barely evading the strike as the blade cleaved through a nearby building, sending debris flying. He spun mid-crouch and countered with a diagonal slash, aiming for its waist——but the Iron Lash parried with uncanny precision, locking blades with him. Sparks flew between their weapons, and for a moment, they were locked in a contest of pure strength."Fine," Alex hissed through gritted teeth. "Let's see how you handle this."He released one hand from his scythe, flicking out a shadow-coated dagger from his inventory and stabbing it toward the creature's exposed joint. The Iron Lash swung its sword, deflecting the dagger, but the motion gave Alex the opening he needed.He kicked off the ground, flipping backward just as the Iron Lash's blade smashed down whe

A massive castle loomed ahead, swallowed by a heavy, eerie mist.White and black smoke curled through the air, dancing across the broken walls and empty courtyard, giving the place an aura of death and abandonment.Alex stepped forward, his boots echoing faintly against the cracked marble floor. As he entered the long corridor, rows of portraits lined both walls—each depicting nobles of past eras.The deeper he went, the newer the portraits became. The faces slowly aged in reverse, each painting showing younger, prouder expressions, until he reached the very last one.It hung directly before a colossal set of doors, their surfaces engraved with silver runes. The final painting depicted a man with white hair and piercing silver eyes, clad in immaculate armor of the same hue. He held his helmet in one arm and gazed outward with an expression of absolute dominance.Alex studied the portrait silently.So this is what he looked like... he thought. Velkar, the Fallen Knight. I didn't know m