Fayt Valentine had always lived a life of quiet routine. A man of few ambitions, he spent his days in suburbia—a small apartment, a steady job as a freelance graphic designer, and the occasional weekend with his sister's child, Timmy. He was neither special nor remarkable in the traditional sense, but he was content, or at least resigned, to the life he led. Nothing ever seemed to stand out in his existence, nothing ever screamed for attention.
That was until the day he died.
It was a normal Saturday afternoon, the sun shining gently through his window. Fayt had been sitting at his desk, surrounded by half-finished designs, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. His attention was broken only by a text from his sister, Ellen. She needed him to pick up Timmy from the park.
Without hesitation, Fayt grabbed his jacket and headed out.
The streets were quiet. The park, though, was a different story. Fayt spotted Timmy on the swings—just as he'd asked. But something was wrong. There was a van parked suspiciously on the street. The driver's window was rolled down, and the figure inside was staring directly at Timmy, eyes cold and calculating.
Before Fayt could process the thought, his instincts kicked in.
A man, tall and unshaven, rushed from the shadows, grabbing Timmy by the wrist. The boy screamed, pulling back in panic.
Without a second thought, Fayt surged forward, pushing through the small crowd of scattered people. He shouted at the man, "Let him go!"
The kidnapper, stunned by Fayt's sudden appearance, turned toward him, his eyes darkening with fury. He pulled a knife from his jacket, the blade glinting in the light.
Fayt didn't stop. He pushed past the panic rising in his chest, reaching for whatever he could grab—a rock from the ground. It hit, but only grazed him. The man charged, slashing wildly.
A moment of chaos.
Pain.
Fayt felt the sharp sting of the blade across his side before the world blurred and spun. The blood trickled down, but he still stood—adrenaline fueling his body to keep going, to save Timmy. His vision started to fade, the cold air now more suffocating than anything.
The next thing he knew, darkness consumed him entirely.
The world was dark.
Fayt woke to a silence so absolute that it felt suffocating. He couldn't feel his body—no pain, no weight. Just an endless expanse of nothingness. It wasn't the quiet of sleep, nor the calm of a dream. It was deeper, more profound. And it was empty.
Fayt opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he felt a presence—a pull, like something far greater than himself. A faint light shimmered before him, and from it, a figure emerged.
A woman.
She was radiant, a soft light flowing around her, her form a flowing robe of pure elegance. But what truly caught Fayt's attention were her eyes—glowing, filled with the vastness of the cosmos. Her gaze seemed to pierce through him, not as a person, but as a being. Something ancient, unfathomable.
"Fayt Valentine," she spoke, her voice both soothing and powerful. "You have died."
Fayt opened his mouth, but still no words came. He felt no fear, no confusion—just a strange sense of acceptance.
"I am the God of Death," the figure continued. "And I offer you a choice. A chance to begin anew in a world far beyond your own, a world of magic and power."
Fayt felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. The confusion from before began to fade, and a strange, almost compelling calmness filled his chest. The woman raised her hand, and before him, a virtual display flickered into existence, glowing faintly in the emptiness. It was a menu, a choice.
"You may choose who you will become in this new world," she said, her voice echoing in the vast space. "A hero, a king, a warrior, or something entirely different. Your race, your class, your skills—all are in your hands. Become who you were meant to be."
Fayt's gaze dropped to the display.
Race Selection
Human
Elf
Demon
Beastkin
Drakonid
Blood Demon (Highlighted)
Celestial
Undead
Class Selection
Warrior
Mage
Paladin
Bloodshield Duelist (Highlighted)
Necromancer
Assassin
Elementalist
Duelist
"Your bloodline, your class—they are all part of you now. Choose wisely."
Fayt's eyes lingered over the Blood Demon race, feeling a strange, instinctual pull. His heart quickened at the thought. The Bloodshield Duelist class, too, seemed to resonate deeply within him, something primal and fierce awakening in his chest.
"I choose to be a Blood Demon, and a Bloodshield Duelist."
The God of Death smiled. "A wise choice." She raised her hand again, and the virtual menu flickered, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. In its place, a powerful surge of energy flooded Fayt's body, a burning force of blood and magic filling his veins. His body tingled with the raw power of something ancient.
"As an added benefit for your heroic death," the God of Death continued, her voice soft but filled with immense power, "I grant you 200 extra SP to purchase additional skills from any in existence. This is a gift for the sacrifice you made, and it is yours to use in shaping your new destiny."
At that, the virtual menu flickered again, but this time, it was filled with an expansive list of skills—from all tiers, available for purchase.
Skills Available to Purchase (200 SP)E-Tier Skills (5 SP)
Quickstep
Minor Heal
Shield Bash
Flash Heal
Evasive Roll
D-Tier Skills (10 SP)
Stone Fist
Shield Wall
Focus
Mana Shield
Arcane Bolt
C-Tier Skills (20 SP)
Elemental Strike
Mending Touch
Gravity Well
Arcane Shield
Magnetic Field
B-Tier Skills (25 SP)
Haste
Arcane Explosion
Guardian's Blessing
Mana Burst
Blood Bond
A-Tier Skills (30 SP)
Sanguine Storm
Blood Puppeteer
Crimson Whirlwind
Life Leech
Blood Surge
The display continued to scroll, offering a myriad of abilities, each more powerful than the last. Fayt felt a rush of excitement, but also the weight of the decision ahead. He could choose skills that would make him stronger, more versatile, or more devastating in combat. But whatever he chose would define his new life in the world of Elast.
The God of Death gave him a moment. "Take your time. These choices will shape the path ahead, but remember—you are the master of your fate now."
Fayt's fingers hovered over the list, his heart beating faster as he chose the skills that would make him truly unique. Finally, after careful thought, he selected:
Sanguine Shield (S) – 50 SP
Status Appraisal (SS) – 75 SP
Vampiric Aura (A) – 30 SP
Rallying Cry (E) – 5 SP
Blood Reprisal (A) – 30 SP
Quickstep (E) – 5 SP
Minor Enrage (E) – 5 SP
With his choices made, the God of Death nodded, her smile gentle yet knowing.
"Very well, Fayt Valentine. Your new life begins now. Rise as the Blood Demon you are destined to be. And remember—the world of Elast awaits your ascension."
With that, the light around him surged once more, and the world of Elast emerged before him—a vast, untamed land filled with magic, monsters, and adventure. Fayt felt his body transform into something new, something powerful. And with it, a new fate awaited him.