After days of solitary trekking through the dense, suffocating canopy, Lance finally halted to catch his breath. A single thought pulsed against his skull like a relentless heartbeat: Did he truly command the "Between Worlds"?
Could he summon that rift at will and cross into the unknown once more?
Steeling his resolve, he spoke the words that caused the very foundations of the void to tremble: "Between Worlds!"
a gate open and dragged him through the abyss of deep space before thrusting his defiant heart toward the gateway of the Unknown Realm. He had not traveled far across that desolate wasteland when his path was blocked by the "Greater Ogre"a hulking titan of raw brutality.
The Ogre charged with a bone-crushing strike, but Lance vanished like drifting smoke. Exhaling a veil of black mist, he blinked behind the beast with an agility he had never felt before.
The Ogre's blow struck nothing but air; as the monster struggled to regain its balance, Lance extended his hand. A sphere of white threads coalesced in his palm, expanding with a radiance and power that defied his every expectation.
Lance released the threads. They lunged like serpents of light, coiling around the Ogre and paralyzing it instantly. Not finished, he gathered the black mist, manifesting six savage chains instead of his usual three, pinning the beast to the scorched earth like a sacrificial lamb awaiting its end.
Drawing his Black Sword, Lance walked toward the struggling Ogre with eyes like chips of ice. Before the beast could hurl its final roar, Lance brought the blade down. The head rolled; the strike was singular, decisive, and devoid of hesitation.
The Ogre's body dissolved, leaving behind a shimmering Soul Orb. Lance crushed it in his grip, and instantly, a semi-transparent system interface flickered into existence:
[ ASCENSION SYSTEM ]
Name: Lance
Primary Ability: Between Worlds
Secondary Ability: Combat Core
Sub-Body: Zarketh (Active)
Collected Souls: 0
Soul Sacrifice: 1 / 10
Resurrection: 0 / 7
Domain: Not Yet Activated
Power Level: Beginner
[ ABILITY UPDATE - COMBAT CORE ]
1. White Thread Core:
Formation: Ability to transmute threads into fortified shields or enhanced combat attire.
Passive Control: A single sphere is now sufficient to paralyze multiple enemies simultaneously.
2. Black Mist Core:
Dark Clones: Ability to summon 3 mist clones that mimic your movements.
Rapid Exchange: Instantaneous teleportation to the location of any clone within a short range, rendering movement unpredictable.
Hope flared in Lance's eyes as he read. He gathered the black mist between his palms, focusing his mental energy to summon the three clones. They shot out like shadowy wraiths in three directions. Eager to test his new limit, he attempted a sudden exchange but failed to lock his coordinates; his body was yanked violently toward the right-hand clone, causing him to lose his balance and hit the dirt with an undignified thud.
Dusting off his clothes, a single riddle plagued his mind: My power has doubled, my abilities have evolved... so why does the System insist I am still a 'Beginner' and haven't ascended further?
The silence was shattered by a vortex of thick black mist that sprouted from nothingness. It wasn't his mist; it was darker, colder. Lance approached warily, but before he could peer inside, a brutal kick erupted from the heart of the fog, slamming into his chest and sending him reeling back several meters.
Gasping for air, Lance steadied himself, only to freeze. The figure stepping out of the mist wasn't a monster. It was him. An exact mirror of his features, his height, his eyes but these eyes gleamed with an ancient, predatory malice.
Lance didn't waste time with questions; instinct told him this was the true trial. The Doppelganger raised a hand, and angry black chains erupted. Lance blinked to his second clone's position to escape, but the shadow was no amateur. It summoned three clones of its own, controlling them with terrifying fluidity. In a blur of motion, the shadow appeared behind Lance, striking him with a sphere of white threads that hit with lethal precision.
Lance collapsed, paralyzed as the luminous restraints bit into his flesh. The Doppelganger summoned its own Black Sword and approached with the cold gait of an executioner. It leaned down, whispering in a voice that was a distorted echo of Lance's own: "How pathetic... you oblivious child."
Lance's eyes widened. "You... you can speak?
"I am the trial that will crush you," the shadow answered, standing over him like an omen of doom. "And I am the reality you are running from."
With a Herculean effort, Lance surged his energy, swapping places with his third clone. He drew his sword, panting heavily. "What do you mean, 'my reality'?"
The Doppelganger threw its arms wide as if presenting a stage. "Were you so naive to believe your life in that other world was real?"
"Yes!" Lance snapped. "It was real! And I'm going back to my family and friends once I recover the fragments of Zarketh!"
A mocking laugh shook the clearing.
"Everything you mentioned the family, the friends, the memories—it was nothing but a grand, carefully woven lie. You and a handful of other fools were living inside a dream that never existed.
A chill raced down Lance's spine. "A lie? How could it be a lie?"
The shadow roared, smashing a massive tree trunk in half with a single backhand. "Wake up! This this blood, this pain, this darkness this is your only true life!"
The Doppelganger lunged like a lightning bolt. But Lance, beginning to find the rhythm of the slaughter, ducked with a fluid motion. In a flash, he unleashed his black chains to entangle his double, followed by a sphere of white threads that froze the shadow in place. He gave himself no room for doubt; he lunged, burying his black blade deep into the Doppelganger's chest
.
Before the shadow vanished, it leaned into Lance's ear, its voice dripping with venom. "This universe is split in two: Light that claims to be good, and Darkness that represents evil. With your cursed power and your soul sacrifices, the Light will never accept you. And by claiming the body of Zarketh, the Darkness will disown you in vengeance for what that demon did to them. You are now the Eternal Outcast... the enemy of both sides."
The Doppelganger exploded into pure energy that surged through Lance's veins. He slumped to the ground, barely conscious, feeling as though molten lead was being poured into his marrow. Through the agony, the system screen flickered:
[ ASCENSION SYSTEM - UPDATED
]
Name: Lance
Level: Novice (Ascended)
Soul Sacrifice: 1 / 20
Resurrection: 0 / 16
System Note: "You can now sacrifice 6 souls at once without physical collapse. Warning: The 7th soul may cause your spiritual vessel to shatter."
Lance laughed bitterly as he dismissed the screen. "Souls? Where am I going to find twenty souls when I barely have one?"
He whispered the keyword, "Between Worlds," and stepped through the rift, leaving the Unknown Realm behind.
Heading north, Lance raced against the wind, his steps lighter and swifter now that he had reached the Beginner rank. He sustained himself on hunted venison, his eyes constantly tracking the glowing map in his mind. As he approached the outskirts of a northern village, he stumbled upon a grim sight: fresh, crimson blood staining the grass.
He followed the trail to a clearing and found a creature unlike any he had ever seen a massive blue bird, its feathers radiating a soft, ethereal light. It lay unconscious, bleeding out from deep gashes. Lance crouched behind an ancient tree, summoning his Black Sword. He crept forward with the silence of a predator. But as he raised his blade to harvest the soul and end its suffering, the bird's eye snapped open.
An explosion of blue aura erupted from the creature. The force was so immense it uprooted the surrounding grass and hurled Lance backward into a tree, the pressure crushing his lungs.
The bird let out a low growl that sounded like rolling thunder. "Does a lowly human dare attempt to desecrate my blood?"
Lance scrambled back, tightening his grip on his sword. "So... you're still breathing."
He gave the creature no time to recover. His black chains lashed out like vipers, pinning the great bird's wings to the earth. Lance stepped forward, leveling his blade at its throat. Seeing the cold promise of death in Lance's eyes, the creature's pride shattered into genuine terror.
"Spare me!" it shrieked. "I will be your loyal servant! A sword in your right hand!"
Lance paused, his eyes narrowing. "And what stop you from betraying me at the first opportunity?"
"Bind your blood to mine," the bird pleaded. "The Sacred Blood Covenant. If I even think of betrayal, my soul will crumble before I can touch a hair on your head."
Lance realized that a beast of this magnitude would be a winning card on his perilous journey toward the Floating Islands. He sliced his palm and let the droplets fall onto the blue feathers. A blinding light erupted, and a mysterious mark etched itself onto Lance's left palm, while a dark brand appeared on the bird's head.
"Is it done?" Lance asked.
"Yes... we are one soul in two bodies," the bird replied weakly. "Now, please... I am bleeding."
Lance gathered his power, weaving a massive sphere of white threads and spreading them over the bird's wounds like magical bandages. The gashes sealed in seconds.
The bird rose, and as it stood to its full height, Lance recoiled in awe. It was colossal its head brushed the clouds, its wingspan rivaling the cursed tower he had escaped. Just as Lance wondered how he would travel with such a behemoth, the bird flapped its wings, releasing a localized hurricane of blue energy.
Lance drove his sword into the ground to keep from being swept away. But as the dust settled, the giant was gone. In its place stood a small, beautiful blue bird, perched delicately at his feet.
"What's the next move?" the small bird asked in a casual tone. "Where are we headed?"
Lance blinked, still in shock. "What... what happened to your size?"
"It's foolish to walk through the human world in my true form," the bird replied, hopping onto Lance's shoulder. "I'd be an easy target for the curious."
Lance regained his composure. "Our destination is that northern village." As they set off, the bird sat proudly on his shoulder. After a while, Lance asked, "Do you have a name?"
"I have no name," it replied. "But I belong to the lineage of the 'Thunder Roc'."
Lance frowned. "What kind of lineage is that?"
"An ancient, legendary race," the bird chirped with pride. "Kings of the storm and guardians of the high heavens. Few have seen us and lived to tell the tale."
Lance let out a dry chuckle. "Rare, you say? So rare that I found one of you face-down in a forest an infant could reach!"
The bird's feathers ruffled in fury. "You human! Do you dare insult a bloodline that made giants tremble?"
Lance raised a hand to calm it. "Alright, alright... don't get your feathers in a twist. I was joking." He went quiet for a moment before adding, "By the way, my name is Lance. I'm going to call you 'Rakh.' It's better than calling you 'bird' all the time."
They reached the outskirts of the village, but the silence hanging over the place wasn't peaceful—it was funereal. Suddenly, an old man emerged from behind a bolted door, his voice trembling with anxiety. "Who are you? What brings you here?"
"I'm a traveler headed north," Lance replied calmly. "I saw your village and decided to rest."
"You must leave by dawn," the old man said sharply. "There is no room for strangers."
"I'll go," Lance said, "but what's with the terror in everyone's eyes?"
The old man sighed. "The Ogres. They lurk nearby. At any moment, they could storm the gates and turn this village to ash."
A spark lit in Lance's eyes. "I can get rid of them for you. On one condition."
The old man looked at him in disbelief. "You? Help us? Do you have magic? What is this condition?"
"I will wipe them out with my craft," Lance said confidently. "My price is a place to stay and supplies for my journey. And to be fair, I won't take the food until tomorrow... after I've counted the bodies."
The man looked skeptical. "Show me what you have."
With cold indifference, Lance summoned his Black Sword from thin air and spun a glowing sphere of white thread between his fingers. The old man gasped, stepping back in awe. He agreed instantly, leading Lance to a small, abandoned tavern
.
Inside the room, Lance turned to his companion. "What do you think about facing Ogres tomorrow, Rakh?"
Rakh shrugged. "Mere rabble. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes."
"Tell me," Lance asked, curious. "What are your actual combat capabilities?"
"I can summon lightning bolts and craft cyclones that tear through stone," Rakh whispered. "But my wounds haven't fully healed, so I can't return to my original size for long."
Lance nodded. "I see. Tomorrow, we move."
The next morning, they headed for the Ogre den. Halfway there, Rakh let out a cynical laugh. "Don't you find it strange, Lance? How a village with no warriors or mages has survived this long against Ogre attacks?"
"Maybe they have hidden skills," Lance replied coldly. "We'll find out soon enough."
They reached the mouth of a dark cave reeking of filth. "This time," Lance said, gripping his hilt, "the fight is on their turf."
They stormed into the darkness. Small Ogres rushed them immediately, but Lance gave them no breath to roar; his black chains whipped out, shredding them to pieces in an instant.
Deep in the bowels of the cave, three Greater Ogres blocked their path. Lance lashed his chains to pin one, while Rakh spat bolts of blue lightning. As the first fell, Lance executed him with a flash of steel. When the second tried to ambush him, Rakh whipped up a miniature gale that knocked the beast flat.
Lance leaped to finish the fallen monster, but the third struck with a massive blow, sending Lance flying into the cave wall. Rakh saw the danger and launched a detonating ball of lightning, paralyzing the beast. Seizing the opening, Lance summoned his three clones. He blinked to the clone positioned above the monster's head and drove his black blade through its skull.
As Lance sat to catch his breath, Rakh's voice echoed from a side chamber. "Lance! Come look at this!"
Lance followed the voice to a hidden vault. There lay the corpse of an ancient warrior, surrounded by roaring flames emanating from a sword gripped in his hand. Strangely, the fire didn't touch the body. Lance sent his chains to wrap around the flaming hilt, pulling it toward him. As soon as Lance's Black Sword touched the fiery blade, his weapon turned into a black, gelatinous substance, devouring the flames and merging with them.
With the fire gone, Lance stepped toward the ancient armor. He wove a sphere of white threads, merging it with the warrior's breastplate. The armor vanished from the corpse and reappeared, woven perfectly around Lance's own body.
Rakh watched in stunned silence as Lance absorbed the gear. When Lance gripped his newly merged sword, the blade erupted in a violent, black inferno.
They emerged from the cave as victors, returning to the village to deliver the news. The old man thanked them profusely, providing the promised supplies. Lance ate his fill and left the rest to Rakh, who devoured it greedily.
At the village gate, as they prepared to depart, Rakh turned serious. "Where to now, Lance?"
Lance looked toward the distant horizon. "To the Floating Islands."
Rakh laughed, spreading his small wings. "It'll be a long journey... and a hell of a story!"