<<...>>
<> [STATUS: ACTIVE] [ENVIRONMENT: UNKNOWN LOWER FLOORS → SURFACE]
According to comprehension, it would take at least a fortnight to reach Pattrain.
A fortnight.
With my current strength? I wouldn't make it out of the Unknown alive.
It was pure luck that the Dreadwatcher I just fought was weak to flame. If it had been anything else...
I need a plan.
"I need more artifacts," I muttered to myself, staring at the smoldering remains of the beast. "Something that'll let me leave this place safely."
I clenched my fists. The skin along my fingers was scorched and blistered, but I ignored the pain.
Comprehension… show me everything.
Kneeling down, I pressed my hand against the damp stone floor.
<
The world around me shifted.
Blue glyphs scattered across the cavern floor like cracks of light beneath the surface. My vision flickered. Then—a pulse. A faint green glow blinked near the edge of my sight.
Another anomaly?
I stood slowly, scanning the area.
It was coming from the body of the Dreadwatcher. The same one I had already turned to ash with Solomon's Ring.
"That thing's gone," I muttered. "I burned it down to bone."
But the glow remained.
Without hesitation, I raised a hand to my crimson hair and swept it back. Sparks leapt from the tips of my strands, and the heat within me surged.
<
Flames burst forth from my fists, coalescing into a concentrated ray that incinerated the remains again. Flesh, bone, armor—obliterated.
Ash scattered like dust in wind.
And yet… the green light still shimmered beneath it all.
What the hell?
Cautiously, I stepped forward. The heat from my magic still clung to the air, warping the space.
I knelt again.
There, embedded in the stone, was a small gem—a rune etched with alien symbols that pulsed with a deep emerald glow.
<
[Skill allows user's body to become one with shadows, enhancing stealth and reducing detection.]
I reached for it, heart pounding.
<
<
"What is this?" I whispered. "If I combine them… will I become stronger?"
My mind raced. Combining fire and shadow—could such a thing even coexist? Fire gave light. Shadow thrived in absence. But if Comprehension allowed it...
I hesitated only briefly. Power was survival. And I couldn't afford to hesitate anymore.
"…Yes."
<
<>
<
[An evolved flame birthed from Jothiathiran. A telekinetic shadowfire originating from the user's hair. Grants both flame manipulation and shadow veiling, increasing stealth and mobility.]
"Whoa…"
My hands trembled.
I could feel the power crackling along my scalp, dancing at the roots of my crimson hair. The heat was still there—familiar, burning. But beneath it now coiled a colder current. Subtle. Lurking.
I can move with the shadows now… fight with fire and vanish like smoke.
"This changes everything."
I clenched my fists. Shadowy flames flickered around them before receding back into my hairline.
"With this… I can survive."
The Unknown had tested me, broken me, and left its mark deeper than any scar. I could still feel its breath at my back—the damp rot of stone, the sting of near-death, the maddening silence. But I had clawed my way out. Somehow. And now, I began the slow crawl toward something that might resemble hope.
My boots squelched with every step, soaked through from the flooded chamber. Behind me, the twisted passages of the Unknown stretched like a memory I could never quite outrun.
I hadn't seen sunlight in days. Maybe more. Time didn't move right down there.
Crouched behind a moss-slick rock, I studied the final stretch of the dungeon. flickered in my vision, painting a transparent map in pale blue glyphs that shimmered over the stone.
"Just one more level," I muttered.
I moved carefully. Pressure tiles. Mana tripwires. Spiked pits. I mapped them all, my eyes catching shifts in mana like a second sense.
But it wasn't just traps I avoided. There were other creatures down there. Ones Comprehension couldn't quite decipher. Shapes that moved without sound. Glimpses in reflections that didn't belong. My newly awakened stealth helped me slip past them, shadows cloaking my presence as though I were mist.
When I finally shoved aside a curtain of tangled roots and felt wind on my face, I collapsed.
The sun—gods, the sun—slammed into my eyes.
Light.
Real, golden, burning light.
It hurt.
But it meant I was alive.
<
I kept to the cliffs that skirted the Unknown's southern edge. To my left, the ocean churned in a steel-colored fury. Behind me, the ruinous forest of Vareth's Hollow whispered its own threats.
I didn't have a map.
Just .
The skill scanned the terrain and outlined paths no one else would notice. Slopes hidden by overgrowth. Tunnels carved by erosion. I moved through them like a ghost.
Roads were deathtraps. I avoided them all.
Two weeks.
That's how long it took to reach the edge of Pattrain.
I must've looked like a corpse with crimson hair. Thin, hollow-eyed, my clothes tattered beyond repair. People stared. Some avoided me. Others pitied me. No one stopped.
"Name?" the gate guard asked.
"Kanin," I said.
"Where from?"
"Eastern coast. Village burned. Bandits."
They didn't question it.
Didn't care, either.
Pattrain wasn't cruel.
But it wasn't kind.
I slept behind taverns, in alleys, under carts. Took whatever work I could find. I learned to clean stables with one hand and keep a dagger ready in the other. Every copper coin went to food—or bandages.
I never showed them the ring.
Never used VELKINDRA.
Then, one night behind a salt-stained tavern near the cliffs, I heard it.
"Two months till the Riandel trials," a man bragged. "My son's got private tutors. He'll make it. Become an Aura Knight in no time."
"Riandel?" I whispered.
He kept talking. "Sword academy. Trains knights who go toe-to-toe with archmages. Pure willforce. No spells. No mana. That's power."
Knights who rival archmages…?
That night, I sat in an abandoned watchtower, staring at the stars.
"No mana. No spells."
I looked down at the ring.
A tiny spark jumped from the band… then vanished.
I brushed back my hair.
<
I didn't let it grow.
Not yet.
If I trained at Riandel… maybe I wouldn't need to hide anymore.
Just a sword.
And a chance.
At sunrise, I stood in Pattrain's southern square.
A crowd buzzed near the notice board. At its center:
"Riandel Academy Entrance Trials – Two Months Hence."
<
I stared at the words.
My fingers curled into a fist.
And somewhere deep inside—past the fear, the scars, the shame—something long dead began to stir.
That same day, I followed the directions posted below the announcement and made my way to the outer registration ward. It was an open-air hall paved in pale granite, buzzing with hopefuls and academy officials.
A long line stretched to the tables where registrations were being processed.
I stepped forward. A young clerk, clearly bored, looked up from his parchment.
"Name?"
"Kanin."
"Applying for the Riandel entrance trials?"
I nodded.
He raised an eyebrow, scanning my tattered clothes. "You sure about that? Trials aren't like a school test. People fail. People get hurt. Sometimes they die."
"I'm sure."
He sighed and scribbled something.
"Alright. You're registered. You'll receive a summons via post within the week with further instructions and trial locations. Show up or be disqualified."
He handed me a small brass token etched with a flame-wrapped sword.
I took it, its weight sinking into my palm like a promise.
Riandel.
The place where magic meant nothing. Where will and steel decided your worth.
I clenched the token tight, and turned away from the booth.
Two months.
I had two months to become strong enough to stand among legends.
And for the first time in my life...
That future didn't seem impossible.