The wind had picked up by the time Aryn emerged from the cave, howling through the mountain pass like a pack of hungry wolves. He shivered as the cold air cut through his tattered cloak, but the fresh air was a welcome relief after the stifling atmosphere inside the cave. He glanced back at the dark entrance one last time, a shiver running down his spine—not just from the cold, but from the weight of what had happened.
The Ascension System. It was real. The translucent screen floating in front of his vision was proof enough of that. He had never heard of such a thing before, not in the old legends, nor in the tales whispered by the fireside in Thornvale. But now it was a part of him, like an invisible chain linking him to some ancient, unknown destiny.
Aryn sighed, pulling his cloak tighter around him as he began to descend the mountain trail. His body still ached from the battle with the Sentinel, and the cold wasn't helping. But he had to keep moving. The sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rocky terrain. He needed to find shelter before nightfall.
As he walked, the screen followed him, a constant reminder of the strange new power he had unlocked. He couldn't help but glance at it every few minutes, half-expecting it to disappear, as if it were some hallucination brought on by exhaustion. But it remained, steady and unyielding, displaying his status:
[Level: 2]
[Experience: 100/200]
[Skills: Quickstep (Basic)]
[Quests: Awaken the Hero (1/5)]
Aryn furrowed his brow, still trying to wrap his head around the concept. He had leveled up after defeating the Sentinel, and with it, gained a new skill—Quickstep. He hadn't had a chance to test it yet, but the name suggested it was some kind of movement ability. Maybe it would help him in future battles, allowing him to dodge more effectively or close the distance to an enemy in a flash.
But for now, he needed to focus on survival. The screen mentioned experience—200 to reach the next level. Did that mean he needed to defeat more enemies? Or were there other ways to gain experience? He had more questions than answers, but no way to solve them without experimenting.
The trail wound down the mountainside, leading him into a dense forest that stretched out below like a dark, endless sea. The trees were tall and ancient, their twisted branches forming a canopy overhead that blocked out most of the fading light. Aryn's footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet of leaves and moss that covered the ground, and the silence was broken only by the occasional rustle of a distant animal.
He was tired—bone-weary from the fight and the long journey—but he forced himself to keep going. The forest was safer than the open mountainside, offering some protection from the elements and any predators that might be lurking. And if he was lucky, he might find a stream or a clearing where he could set up camp for the night.
As he walked, his thoughts kept returning to the battle with the Sentinel. The memory of the glowing runes, the creature's relentless attacks, and the final, desperate strike that had brought it down played over and over in his mind. He had never faced anything like that before—never imagined he could. But the Ascension System had given him the edge he needed, allowing him to survive where others might have perished.
But what was the cost? The voice had mentioned a curse—the Curse of Zylarion. The name sent a chill down his spine, though he didn't understand why. It sounded ancient, dangerous, something far beyond his comprehension. What exactly had he gotten himself into?
Lost in thought, Aryn almost didn't notice the clearing up ahead. It was a small patch of open ground, surrounded by towering oaks and illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun. A fallen log lay at the center, half-buried in moss, and beside it, a shallow stream bubbled quietly as it wound its way through the forest.
Aryn breathed a sigh of relief. This was as good a place as any to rest. He dropped his pack by the log and knelt beside the stream, cupping his hands to take a drink. The water was cold and clear, refreshing his parched throat. He splashed some on his face, washing away the grime and sweat of the day.
For a few moments, he allowed himself to relax, to simply enjoy the peace and quiet. The forest was calming in its own way, the gentle rustle of leaves and the trickle of water soothing his frayed nerves. But the weight of the Ascension System was still there, like a shadow lurking just out of sight.
Aryn pulled out a piece of dried meat from his pack and chewed on it absently as he sat on the log, staring into the trees. He needed a plan. If this system was going to be a part of his life now, he had to learn how to use it, how to control it. And more importantly, he needed to figure out what the curse was and how to deal with it.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime, and the screen flickered again.
[New Quest Assigned: Prove Your Worth]
[Objective: Defeat 5 Beasts in the Wild]
[Reward: 100 Experience, Minor Healing Potion]
[Failure: None]
Aryn's heart sank. More fighting? He wasn't ready for this—wasn't a warrior. But the system seemed determined to push him forward, to force him to grow stronger. Maybe that was the whole point. Maybe it was testing him, trying to see if he was worthy of the power it offered.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. Five beasts. He didn't even know what kind of creatures lived in this part of the forest, let alone how to fight them. But he couldn't afford to ignore the quest. If he wanted to survive—if he wanted to unlock more of the system's potential—he had to follow its lead.
Reluctantly, Aryn got to his feet and scanned the clearing. The light was fading fast, and he knew he didn't have much time before darkness fell. If he was going to complete this quest, he needed to start now.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, and drew his sword. The blade was still dull and rusted, but it was better than nothing. He would have to make do until he could find a better weapon—or until the system gave him one.
With one last glance at the stream, Aryn turned and headed into the forest, his senses on high alert. The trees loomed overhead like silent sentinels, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig set his heart racing, but he forced himself to stay focused.
The forest seemed to grow darker with every step, the shadows lengthening as the sun dipped below the horizon. Aryn could barely see more than a few feet ahead of him, but he pressed on, listening for any signs of movement.
He didn't have to wait long.
A low growl echoed through the trees, followed by the sound of heavy footfalls. Aryn's grip tightened on his sword as he scanned the darkness, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. His heart pounded in his chest, but he refused to back down.
The growl came again, louder this time, and a pair of glowing eyes appeared in the shadows. Aryn swallowed hard, his muscles tensing as the creature stepped into the dim light.
It was a wolf—no, not a wolf, something far larger and more menacing. Its fur was dark as midnight, matted with dirt and blood, and its eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger. The creature's muscles rippled under its thick hide, and its fangs glistened in the fading light.
Aryn's mouth went dry. This was no ordinary beast. This was a Shadowfang, a creature of darkness known for its speed and ferocity. He had heard stories of these creatures, how they hunted in packs and could bring down even the most seasoned warriors.
But he was alone. And the system had tasked him with killing five of them.
The Shadowfang let out a low, guttural snarl and crouched, ready to pounce. Aryn's mind raced—he had to act fast, had to use every advantage he had.
Without thinking, he activated Quickstep. Instantly, his body moved in a blur, faster than he ever thought possible. He sidestepped the Shadowfang's lunge, the creature's claws missing him by inches, and in a flash, he was behind it.
Aryn swung his sword with all his strength, aiming for the back of the creature's neck. The blade connected with a sickening thud, cutting deep into the flesh. The Shadowfang yelped in pain, stumbling forward as it tried to regain its balance.
But Aryn didn't let up. He pressed the attack, darting around the creature with Quickstep, slashing at its legs, its sides, anywhere he could reach. The Shadowfang growled and snapped at him, but it was too slow, too clumsy compared to his newfound speed.
Finally, with a final, desperate strike, Aryn drove his sword into the creature's heart. The Shadowfang let out a final, pained howl before collapsing to the ground, its body twitching once before going still.
Aryn stood over the fallen beast, his chest heaving with exhaustion. His hands trembled as hepulled the sword free, the blade slick with dark blood. He had done it—he had killed a Shadowfang. But there were still four more to go.
Before he could dwell on it, the screen reappeared, displaying his progress.
[Shadowfang defeated: 1/5]
[Experience gained: 50]
Aryn nodded to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow. This was just the beginning, he realized. The system wasn't going to let him rest, wasn't going to give him time to hesitate. If he wanted to survive—if he wanted to grow stronger—he had to keep moving forward.