The main gate of the capital, Oakhaven, stood tall like a stone giant ready to swallow anyone. At its peak, red banners with the black wolf emblem of the Volkov Family fluttered haughtily, replacing the silver-blue flags of the Virel Family, which were now nothing more than dark history.Arka took a deep breath, letting the smell of burning smoke and the aroma of the crowded market fill his lungs. He wore a dull leather cloak that smelled of sweat, his face intentionally obscured by an unkempt thin beard and a fake scar along his cheekbone. On his back, a large, blunt sword served as the perfect camouflage for a low-class mercenary."Name?" barked a gatekeeper, his eyes constantly scanning the line of refugees and merchants."Vane," Arka replied, his voice rasped by a throat control technique taught by the system."Origin?""Northern Outskirts. There's nothing left there since the bandits raided our village."The guard snorted, his eyes narrowing as he looked Arka up and down. "You’ve

Cold. That was the first thing Arka felt as his fractured consciousness tried to piece itself back together. The stench of rotting flesh and damp earth assaulted his senses. Beneath his back, he didn't feel level ground, but rather a pile of hard, sharp, and brittle objects that crunched every time he tried to breathe.Arka opened his swollen eyes. The darkness at the bottom of the Tomb of the Traitors was almost absolute, save for a razor-thin sliver of moonlight seeping from the mouth of the abyss far above a hole that now looked as small as the eye of a needle."Cough!" Arka spat out a glob of black blood. Every breath felt like thousands of needles piercing his lungs.He tried to move his right hand, but all he heard was the sound of crushing bone. His legs were numb, twisted at an unnatural angle. He was utterly broken. Arka Virel, the once-revered young noble, was now nothing more than a heap of flesh atop a pile of skulls belonging to those who had shared his fate."So... this

A suffocating silence blanketed the altar hall, so quiet that the sound of blood dripping from the tip of Arka’s sword sounded like heavy thuds against the marble floor. The Leader of the Night Shadow Sect remained standing calmly, his back turned to the altar where Elara and Mia were being held. The aura radiating from him no longer felt like physical pressure, but rather a void capable of sucking the very light from its surroundings."Sit down, Arka. You look exhausted," the Sect Leader’s voice sounded soft, almost like a father welcoming his son home. "The restructuring of your body is at a critical point. You might die before you even manage to touch my robe."Arka spat to the side, a thick red liquid staining the floor already littered with the corpses of guards. "I don’t need your hospitality. Release my wife and daughter, now.""Always about family," the Sect Leader turned slowly, revealing a face that looked far younger than his years, yet his eyes radiated the fatigue of cent

The sky on Oakhaven's eastern horizon began to fade, leaving a cold, purplish-gray hue. The dawn light, which should have brought hope, felt instead like a death sentence for the thirty people now forced to kneel in the Dawn Tower square. The stone floor, damp with morning dew, reflected the shadows of the gallows and the chopping block standing arrogantly in the center of the square.Sergeant Galdor, an old man who usually had eyes as sharp as an eagle's, now sat with his head bowed, one eye swollen shut. His hands were chained behind his back. Beside him, Uncle Hali coughed repeatedly, his chest tight from an asthma flare-up caused by the biting morning air and prison dust."Lift your heads, you Virel dogs!" barked a Volkov soldier, slamming the butt of his spear into Galdor’s back.Galdor looked up, spitting at the soldier's feet. "You can kill us, boy. But you cannot kill our loyalty. The Virel family will always be the true lords of this land.""Your master is already worm food i

The ground beneath Arka’s feet trembled violently, sending suffocating bone dust into the air. Two giant purple eyes blinked slowly, radiating pure malice capable of freezing blood. The creature crawled out of the darkness a gargantuan mass of thousands of fused human bones, forming a five-meter-tall monster with long arms ending in razor-sharp claws.Warning: The Guardian of the Traitors' Tomb has fully awakened.Power Analysis: Death Level. Host's survival probability: 0.02%."Only zero point zero two percent?" Arka hissed, gripping the black scroll in his hand tightly. He felt an overwhelming chill from the monster before him. "System, I just learned this hell technique. Use it!"The Nine Steps of Vengeful Hell technique requires a larger energy base than you currently possess. Your body will disintegrate before you can even take a step."Then what? You want me to give up and become the next pile of bones here?"Option Detected: Activation of Absolute Berserker Mode.Requirement: E