The moment Tony stepped into the Ghost Town, an oppressive stillness pressed against him like a physical weight. It wasn't just quiet. It was the kind of silence that swallowed sound, where even his boots against the cracked cobblestones seemed muted. His instincts screamed at him—danger lurked everywhere.
He tightened his grip on the humming blade. I've stepped into deep shit this time.
The narrow road stretched before him endlessly, hemmed in by leaning buildings whose shadows seemed to lean closer with each step. Ten minutes passed, his footsteps echoing in the hollow town, yet there was still no end.
His jaw tightened. Either I'm walking in circles… or this damned road has no end.
Frustration welled up. He was about to turn back when a prickling sense of killing intent struck him. Tony spun, activating [Parry] instinctively.
The blade sang as it intercepted a strike that materialized from nowhere—a clawed hand aiming straight for his heart. Sparks of unnatural energy scattered into the air.
Tony snarled. "So you finally couldn't resist, huh? Damn ghost."
The attacker revealed itself, pulling free from the shadows.
[Wandering Ghost]
Type: Common
Level: 05
HP: 380
Attacks: Wild Claw, Hidden Strike, Terrorizing Shout
Tony's eyes narrowed. "Low HP… but one hit and I'm done. Classic ghost-type balance."
The ghost hissed, its form half-translucent, claws slashing in erratic arcs. Tony surged forward, blade flashing from unpredictable angles. Steel clashed with spectral force, the ghost blocking and countering with uncanny precision.
"What the hell?" His grin widened despite himself. "Am I fighting a mob… or a player?"
The ghost fought with unnerving intelligence, reacting to feints, punishing openings, and pressing counterattacks. Every exchange raised Tony's blood. This was no scripted enemy—it was alive, dangerous.
He managed to carve shallow lines into the phantom's torso, shaving away slivers of HP. But the level gap was merciless. Each blow barely chipped 5–10 damage, leaving the bar hovering above 300.
So this is the real test… His heart pounded with exhilaration. Every fight's a dance with death. One mistake and I fall. This game… I'm falling in love with it.
The ghost shrieked, its body convulsing. A clawed hand glowed with spectral fury.
Skill: Wild Claw
It slashed downward, the air ripping open with its force.
Tony roared back, activating [Double Slash].
System Notification: Double Slash execution — 100% completion.
His first strike intercepted the Wild Claw, deflecting it off-course. The second ripped clean across the ghost's chest.
-76 Damage.
Bloodlike wisps gushed from the wound, and a crimson icon appeared. Bleeding effect: -3 HP/second (10s).
Tony didn't stop. His blade rose, lightning crawling across the steel.
Skill: Lightning Strike. Execution — 100%.
The basement lit with a blinding flash as concentrated lightning engulfed the ghost.
-190 Damage.
The phantom shrieked one last time before dissolving into mist, leaving only a faint shimmer of loot.
Tony exhaled, chest heaving. Then he laughed. "I'm getting better. More comfortable with every strike. Soon, I'll master these skills completely."
He crouched to gather the spoils.
Loot:
Bronze ×5
Health Potion ×2
Mana Potion ×1
Random Gem (for Blacksmiths)
"Not bad." He tucked them away, eyes gleaming. So skills level up by understanding and executing them perfectly. Not just pressing a button, but control, precision. That means… there's no ceiling. No limits but my own comprehension.
The thought made him tremble with excitement.
For the next two hours, the hunt continued. Seven more wandering ghosts fell to his blade, each fight sharpening his instincts. He experimented, adapting his techniques—splitting Double Slash into feints and off-angle cuts, reshaping Lightning Strike into narrow spears of lightning instead of wide bursts.
The more he played, the more the game bent to him.
"This isn't just a game. This is training. Freedom." He grinned wildly, wiping spectral ichor from his cheek. "A battlefield without consequences… it's heaven."
Yet with heaven came new mysteries.
At last, the endless road ended.
Tony stopped, breath caught in his throat. Before him stretched a town built beneath the earth itself.
Tall buildings leaned at impossible angles, stone foundations sunken into soil that hadn't seen sunlight in centuries. Faded banners clung to broken poles, their sigils unrecognizable. Even in ruin, the place radiated history—a once-mighty city swallowed by silence.
Tony whispered, "A town… underground? Just how old is this place?"
His instincts flared. He didn't stride boldly forward. Instead, he slid into the shadows, weaving between rocks and collapsed walls, always careful to skirt within eight yards of wandering spirits' patrols.
He reached a jagged rock formation and pressed against it. For a moment, everything seemed still. Then—
"What are you doing here, human?"
The voice came from behind.
Tony froze. For the first time in hours, true fear jolted through him. He had been on full alert, senses sharpened to the extreme… yet he hadn't noticed a thing until the voice pierced the silence.
His heart thudded painfully as he turned.
The figure floating there was unmistakably not human. She shimmered with ethereal beauty, her body translucent, her outline more incorporeal than the wandering ghosts. And her ears—slender, pointed—marked her as an elf.
He activated [Hawkeye], breath shallow.
[Name: Aelvan]
Status: Cursed by a Legendary Ghost
Level: ?????
HP: ?????
Title: One of the Fairy Forest's Four Protectors — Forest Champion
Tony's throat dried. Level unknown. HP unknown. A protector of the Fairy Forest…
He forced a smile. "Hello, Lady Elf. My village tasked me to investigate the sickness. I found a clue, followed the hidden path, and… ended up here."
Something told him lies would be useless. Her gaze pierced through him like moonlight through glass.
Aelvan's expression softened, though sorrow lingered in her eyes. "So that's it. Some of the cursed wandered into the road. Their aura leaked out. You killed them—so the sickness should fade from the village. But you must leave. This place is dangerous for one as weak as you."
Her words were kind… but they scraped at Tony's pride.
His jaw set. "Weak, huh?" He straightened. "Lady Elf, it seems you carry a curse. Perhaps… there's something I can do to help?"
Her eyes widened, ethereal features rippling in shock. Most would assume she lingered from old grievances, a ghost chained to memory. Few could recognize the truth: she was cursed.
Aelvan whispered, almost to herself, "You… saw through it so quickly? Impossible."
Tony smirked, chest swelling. Damn right.
"I only followed logic. The aura here is too corrupt. Elves are proud—only a curse could force you into this state."
Her eyes glimmered, sharp as blades yet warm with recognition. "What a terrifying observation. You are not simple, human. My name is Aelvan, protector of the Fairy Forest. You are worthy of knowing it."
System Notification: Aelvan's impression of you has increased by +50.
System Notification: A high-ranking elf has acknowledged you. You may now enter the Fairy Forest.
System Notification: Congratulations! First player to be recognized by another race. Rewards: +1 Level, +5 to all attributes (including hidden), Title acquired: Elf Friend.
White light surged around him. His level climbed, stats swelling.
Tony grinned, exhilaration bubbling up. "I just wanted to show off… and I get this? Fortune really does favor the bold."
[Title: Elf Friend]
Permission to enter the Fairy Forest at will.
Worldwide treatment equal to a Baron.
Option to convert to Elf race.
Tony's brows rose. "Convert race… so it's true. Not just humans. Other races exist."
The possibilities were staggering. Elves were nature's darlings—their affinity for magic unmatched. Mages, priests, summoners would kill for this chance.
But Tony? He wasn't so eager. He had no intention of abandoning humanity yet. Better to keep the option hidden, a weapon for later.
Aelvan studied him, then asked gently, "Mad Demon… would you accept a request from me?"
A golden notification flashed before his eyes.
System Notification: You have triggered an SS-Rank Quest: Elf Savior. Do you accept?
Tony's hands shook. Other players were scrambling for C-rank scraps. And here he was, standing before an SS-rank quest.
He barked a laugh. "The odds of me finishing this are close to zero. But hell, I'll try."
He accepted.
Aelvan's face softened with something like hope. "Wonderful. To meet you here—it is my fortune. But you must understand: the quest is impossible for your current self. The minimum requirement is to be an Expert—one who has chosen their Path."
Tony's smile faltered. Path?
The system guide had never mentioned it. Yet here was confirmation: classes weren't static. At some point, players would choose a "path," reshaping their roles entirely.
His heart raced. Another hidden system. Another way to grow stronger.
And he was standing on its threshold.