The golden, system-wide notification hung in the air, its message searing itself into the consciousness of every player in Ancient Myth. For a moment, across countless villages and zones, there was a universal, stunned silence. Then, the storm broke.
"Impossible!" a warrior in a crowded plaza shouted, his voice cracking with disbelief. "An SSS-rank skill? The bastard must be cheating! The game hasn't even been live for two days!"
A nearby mage scoffed, adjusting her robes. "Don't be a fool. The system's control is absolute. You can't cheat a world run by an AI of this magnitude. No... this means there are true monsters among us. Players operating on a level we can't even comprehend."
Another player, a rogue who had been meticulously practicing his backstabs, slammed his dagger into a training post in frustration. "Damn it! I've been grinding for 18 hours straight just to get the feel for an A-rank skill, and someone's already lapping the universe? Where's the justice?"
The conversations were variations on the same theme: shock, denial, and a burning, desperate curiosity. In taverns, on forums, and in party chats, a single name—or rather, the lack thereof—was on everyone's lips: "XXXX." The decision to hide his identity had turned Tony into a phantom, a specter of impossible power that every guild, every lone wolf, and every corporation now wanted to find, recruit, or dissect.
Meanwhile, in a zone far removed from the starter villages, a different scene was unfolding. The Rukur Fields were a sea of windswept grass, a forbidden area for any player below Level 7. Here, packs of Grassland Wolves, each the size of a pony, roamed in predatory harmony.
Yet, amidst this danger, a party of five moved with the synchronized grace of a well-oiled war machine.
At the front was Falling Dust, a Level 6 Berserker clad in blood-red armor. He was not a brute; he was a artist of violence. A single, seemingly casual swing of his massive axe would strike the vital points of three wolves simultaneously, sending them flying with critical damage blossoms floating above them. Without even turning, he would shift his weight minutely, allowing a claw swipe from behind to pass harmlessly through the space he had just occupied. His perception was preternatural.
On the flank, Sky Flame, the Level 6 Mage, was a symphony of controlled destruction. He wasn't just casting spells; he was conducting them. While his mouth chanted the final verses of a [Flame Blast], his hands were already tracing the intricate sigils for [Earth Collapse]. In 1.2 seconds—a time in which most mages would still be fumbling for a single spell—the ground before him fell away, trapping three wolves, and a [Fire Dragon] erupted from the sigils to immolate them. His double-casting was as fluid as breathing.
The party's anchor was Life Wonder, a Level 5 Priest whose grace was matched only by her precision. Her heals were not desperate reactions but preemptive assurances, landing the moment a party member's HP dipped, never letting it fall below 30%. She was the calm at the center of the storm, a goddess ensuring her champions remained standing.
Weaving through the chaos was Silent Butterfly, a Level 6 Thief. She was a phantom, a messenger of death who appeared only to deliver a lethal backstab before vanishing again. Twice, she materialized out of thin air to intercept a wolf lunging for Sky Flame's exposed back, her daggers finding their mark with surgical accuracy before she melted back into the shadows.
But the true conductor of this orchestra of death was the Hunter, Life Snatcher. At Level 7, he was a step ahead of everyone. His commands, issued in a calm, steady voice, were absolute and prescient. "Dust, sidestep left in two. Flame, dragon on my mark. Butterfly, the alpha's right flank is open." Every order was the essence of efficiency.
And his personal combat power was monstrous. The bow in his hands glowed with the distinct, potent aura of an Epic weapon. Each arrow was silent, fast, and utterly lethal, striking eyes, joints, and throats with impossible consistency. The Wolf King, a massive Special Elite, knew he was the primary threat, but no matter how it directed its pack, not a single wolf could get within five yards of the unflappable Hunter.
As the last of the regular wolves fell, Life Snatcher finally moved. He blurred forward, appearing in the Wolf King's blind spot as it was distracted by Falling Dust. In a motion too fast to follow, he nocked and fired. It seemed like three arrows, but the air itself seemed to tear as six projectiles—fired in tight, overlapping pairs—slammed into the beast.
*BANG! -130 -100 -70 -90 -100 -110*
The damage numbers erupted like a final salute. The Wolf King howled once, a sound of pure agony, and then collapsed.
"As expected from Young Master Xander," Silent Butterfly said, her voice filled with undisguised reverence as she looked at the Hunter. "No player could ever hope to match your archery."
"Of course," Sky Flame added, clapping Xander on the shoulder. "He's the genius destined to lead the Dragon-Phoenix Dojo. Who else could command a field like this?"
The mood, however, soured as Falling Dust frowned, wiping wolf blood from his axe. "That world notification... to think someone created an SSS-rank skill before you, Xander."
Life Wonder nodded, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "When I heard it, I thought it was a system error. Big brother, you were the first to merge real martial arts with the game, creating a Unique Style. You've created multiple S-rank skills, like that [Moon Chaser] arrow technique. Yet you said yourself that an SSS-rank was theoretically impossible right now due to the stat and comprehension requirements. So who is this phantom?"
All eyes turned to Xander. He was a young man of striking, calm handsomeness, his fiery red hair a stark contrast to his serene demeanor. At twenty-two, he was already a famed prodigy, groomed to lead one of the world's top ten martial organizations, the Dragon-Phoenix Dojo. His presence alone was a calming force, a reassurance that all was under control.
He smiled, a gentle but knowing expression. "Your faith in me is humbling. But never forget, the world is vast." His voice was measured, each word carrying weight. "There are many geniuses we have yet to meet. The established household names—Mark from the Martial Progeny Dojo, Liu Xue of the Liu Clan, Felix from Star Twilight Corporation, Layla from the Dream Association—are in no way inferior to me. And beyond them, in the shadows, are monstrous talents who either hide their light or simply don't care for the world's applause. That is why we must never let pride blind us. We do not yet know our true standing in this new world."
A respectful silence fell over the group. The names he mentioned were legends of their generation, each a powerhouse in their own right.
"Furthermore," Xander continued, his gaze turning skyward, "this game, Ancient Myth, is different. It's a great equalizer and a catalyst. It can elevate an unknown to a household name overnight. That is why every corporation, every dojo, every government is pouring their best and brightest into it. This anonymous player... perhaps they are one of those hidden gems, who has now stepped onto the path of greatness."
A sharp, competitive light flashed in Xander's eyes, and for a moment, a peerless, dominating aura radiated from him, causing the very air to hum. The thought of a worthy rival made his blood boil with excitement, not fear. His party members felt it, and their respect for him deepened.
"Let us not waste energy hunting a ghost," Xander declared, his aura receding back into its calm shell. "Our paths will cross when fate deems it. For now, our goal is clear: reach Level 10 and be among the first to leave the village. The true game begins there, and we must secure every advantage for our guild, [Aethelgard]. Our journey to the top has only just begun."
His words reignited their collective resolve, and they set about looting the field with renewed purpose.
The shockwave was not confined to the game. In the real world, the headquarters of the Miracle Corporation, the developers of Ancient Myth, was in an uproar. The news of the SSS-rank skill creation triggered an emergency board meeting, summoning every upper echelon executive and lead developer.
In a sterile, high-tech conference room, a grim-faced director pointed at a massive hologram displaying the game's core code. "The 'Prajna State' was a theoretical .001% random event tied to the Mysterious Box, intended for late-game triggers. For a player to not only trigger it but to then synthesize that enlightenment into a stable, system-recognized SSS-rank construct this early... it defies all our models."
Another executive, her face pale, added, "The media is already calling. They want to know if this is a hack, a bug. The stock market is reacting. We need answers, and we need to find this 'Player X' before he destabilizes the entire economic and power balance we projected for the first year of gameplay."
The creator of Ancient Myth had unleashed a dragon, and now, the entire world was scrambling to find its lair.