The underground air of the Ghost Town clung to Tony like damp chains, but he walked with a predator's ease. His blade dripped faint strands of light, remnants of the last wandering ghost he had cut down. Around him, silence reclaimed the ruinous streets—though Aelvan's gaze still lingered on him, unblinking and heavy.
"Lady Aelvan, what did you mean… by a path?"
Her incorporeal face shifted, unreadable. "It is something you will understand when the time comes. Each class bears three possible paths. A swordsman may become many things—but the world itself will test you first."
Her words confirmed his earlier suspicion. Classes aren't fixed. They evolve.
The system's voice chimed within his ears:
Quest: Elf Savior (SS-Rank). Part 1 — Become an Expert.
Tony pressed, unwilling to let the chance slip. "Why must I choose a path before helping you?"
Her answer was calm, though layered with regret. "Because what I require lies deep within the Ghost Town. Every monster inside is above level 30. To them, you are but a fly. Until you step into the rank of Expert and shape your Path, you will not last a breath."
His eyes gleamed. So it's level 30, then. That's when the real game begins.
Out loud, he grinned. "Then I'll get there faster than anyone. But before that…" He tilted his head toward the wandering phantoms drifting by the town's gate. "These level 5 pests look like walking experience."
Most players would faint at the thought of facing twenty-plus mobs overleveled by five tiers. But Tony was no ordinary player.
For ten minutes he observed silently, memorizing every movement pattern, every overlap in patrol routes. When the timing aligned, he flicked a stone from his palm with surgical precision. It struck the far-left ghost. The creature twitched, disoriented, before shambling toward the sound—separating from its companions without alerting them.
From the shadows, Aelvan's eyes widened. He lured it away… without triggering the rest.
But the true shock came when Tony engaged. His blade flowed like water, skills folding into each other, strikes curving to exploit weaknesses with seamless improvisation.
"This is impossible," Aelvan whispered. He has reached the realm of manipulation. To use a skill freely, bending its design to one's will… that is the realm of legends. Even among elves, few master it after decades. Yet this human—this boy—fights as if he has lived lifetimes.
For her, Tony's brilliance was more terrifying than his courage. He was not simply talented. He was monstrous.
Tony, of course, had no idea of the tremors he caused in Aelvan's heart. He was too consumed by the joy of battle. Strike by strike, his mastery sharpened. Ghosts fell one by one, their shrieks silenced beneath the hum of his blade.
Two hours later, twenty-two corpses of wandering phantoms littered the ghostly streets.
System Notification: Congratulations! Level up +2.
Free Attribute Points: +15.
His rewards glittered before him.
Loot Acquired:
Bronze ×89
Arrows ×20
Health Potion ×2
Mining Axe (Common)
Alchemist's Supplies
Holy Water (effective against dark creatures)
Fragments of a Shattered Sword (Rare)
Blood-Stained Map of the Ghost Town
Old Key (Treasure Chest)
Equipment:
Ring of Mana (Bronze, Lv.5): +4 Int, increases MP recovery, steals Mana on hit.
Blazing Shaft (Silver, Lv.5, Berserker only): +18 Attack Speed, +13 Strength. Comes with Rapid Barrage and Earth Protection.
Timeless Gloves (Iron, Lv.5): +10 Defense, +30 HP. Skill: End the cooldown of one skill (CD: 4 min).
Skill Books:
Terrorizing Shout (Magical class).
Fireball (Mage).
Phantom Assassination (Thief exclusive).
Tony examined the haul, lips curling. "Not bad at all." He pocketed the thief skill—Mark will make good use of this someday—and decided to sell the others.
He then strapped on the Ring of Mana and the Timeless Gloves. Finally, he pulled from his bag the gift from Sir Hawk—the armor that would complete his current set.
[Heavy Bear] (Plate Armor, Silver, Lv.5)
+20 Defense, +15 Vitality, +10 Strength.
+30% Critical Hit, increased chance of blocking heavy strikes.
Skill 1: Quick Reset — Instantly restore HP to full. (CD: 5 min)
Skill 2: Absolute Force — Nullify one attack completely. (CD: 10 min)
Tony admired the craftsmanship. "Now this… this is a masterpiece."
Other players still scraped by with beginner sets, praying for Iron gear drops. Yet he stood outfitted with:
Necklace (Silver)
Armor (Silver)
Boots (Iron)
Gloves (Iron)
Ring (Bronze)
And the Unique Humming Blade in hand.
Compared to them, he wasn't just ahead—he was untouchable.
His panel now gleamed with growth:
[Mad Demon] (Swordsman)
Level: 05 (23%)
HP: 250
MP: 23
ST: 15 | AG: 15 | CON: 12 | INT: 8 | VIT: 10
Aelvan finally spoke, her ethereal voice breaking the silence. "You have brought me a surprise. Even among my people, few geniuses could match your comprehension. I have no doubt now—you will help me in the days to come."
Tony inclined his head. "You flatter me, Lady Aelvan."
"No. I state only truth. You carry within you the fate to climb higher than mortals should."
Her praise only made him grin. "Then you'll see for yourself when I keep my word. I don't break promises."
With that, he left the cursed town, her gaze following him until his form vanished into the mist.
The World Stirs
By now, Ancient Myth had been live for eight hours. The world outside buzzed with chaos and excitement. Forums crashed under the weight of theories, guides, and discoveries. Many players were still fumbling with rats, wolves, and beginner quests, while others banded into parties just to scrape through common mobs.
But Tony—Mad Demon—walked out of the Ghost Town carrying gear, skills, and knowledge that placed him far beyond the pack.
He strode back into the village with the ease of a predator returning to its den. After reporting his findings to the village leader, the system chimed:
System Notification: Quest Complete (B-Rank).
Rewards: Choose between Alchemy Journal or Equipment.
Tony didn't hesitate. "Alchemy Journal."
[Alchemy Journal] — Teaches the art of potion-making. Requirement: Visit an Alchemy Laboratory in any city.
"Alchemy, huh?" His grin widened. "I'll be the best at that too. No matter the field, I'll master it."
A New Disturbance
Tony left the leader's house, intent on visiting the herb hall for another quest. But halfway down the road, the sound of shouting caught his ear.
His steps slowed. A crowd had gathered, forming a loose ring around a confrontation.
A girl stood in the center, her white robes marked her as a priest. Her face was pretty, her figure slender yet strong. At her side stood a guardian knight, shield trembling, and a timid young mage clutching her staff like a lifeline.
Opposite them were ten players, men and women alike, sneers plastered across their faces. At their head stood an old man wielding a massive axe, his class unmistakable—Berserker.
His voice was coarse, dripping with arrogance. "Little girl, just hand it over. That armor's worth maybe fifty bronze, but we're generous. One coin. That's the deal."
The priest's eyes blazed with anger. "That's robbery! Shameless!"
The Berserker laughed, the rest of his gang chuckling with him. "Robbery? This is mercy. Refuse, and you'll pay a heavier price."
The villagers nearby lowered their gazes, unwilling to interfere. Everyone knew this gang. The Bloodhounds. A group infamous for holding grudges. Once they marked you, they'd hound you endlessly.
The priest's expression faltered, despair creeping in. The Berserker sneered wider, savoring her helplessness. "See? No one will help you. In this village, my word is law. And no one has the balls to interfere."
The crowd murmured, retreating further back. His words were true. No one dared stand against them.
No one—except the figure who had just arrived at the edge of the ring.
Tony's eyes narrowed. His pride, his demon, stirred. Those words—my word is law—echoed like a challenge.
A wicked grin spread across his face. "Law, huh? Then let me show you what happens when you proclaim yourself king in front of the Mad Demon."
He stepped forward, every motion calm, predatory, certain.
The Bloodhounds had no idea that their day of ruling the village was about to end.