The small village of Elderglen nestled at the edge of a vast, untamed forest. Its wooden houses and cobblestone streets were familiar to Valen, a young man who had spent most of his life here. Life in Elderglen was simple—tending crops, working the forge, and helping out in the village square. It was a peaceful existence, one that Valen never questioned. He was just one of many, a humble farmer's son with no ambitions beyond surviving each day.

Yet, for some reason, he had always felt like something was missing.

Valen's day had begun like any other. The early morning sun had risen over the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the village. He had helped his father in the fields, digging up roots and preparing the soil for planting. By noon, he had eaten a simple lunch of bread and cheese, then headed into town to run errands. He carried a small basket of supplies, his dark brown hair falling over his eyes as he walked. His footsteps echoed through the quiet streets, the sounds of the village's daily rhythm surrounding him.

But today… today was different.

As he entered the village square, something seemed off. The air felt charged, as if the earth itself was holding its breath. A small crowd had gathered around the central fountain, their faces drawn with concern. Valen's curiosity piqued, and he made his way toward the group, pushing through the curious onlookers.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

An older man turned to him, eyes wide with fear. "The Guildmaster… he's testing the new recruits."

Valen raised an eyebrow. The Guildmaster was a legendary figure in Elderglen. He was known for being strict, yet fair, in his evaluations of young adventurers who sought to join the guild. The Guildmaster would test them for their class—an ability granted to all who reached adulthood, a sign of one's potential and purpose in life. Most of the young villagers received simple, everyday classes like Farmer, Smith, or Merchant. They were classes that would serve them in the village but had little to no impact on the outside world. However, there was always the possibility, the hope, that one would receive a rare class—one that would make them stand out from the crowd.

"The Guildmaster's been testing the recruits for hours," the older man continued, "but none of them have been able to impress him. They all have low-level classes. Nothing special."

Valen shifted uncomfortably. He had heard tales of powerful classes—warriors, mages, healers—but he never expected to encounter one in such a small, secluded village. He didn't know why it mattered to him, but he felt an odd pang in his chest. He had never taken the class test himself, as the village didn't require its residents to be officially registered for anything other than basic work. In fact, he had always avoided it. The idea of a class, of being defined by something as arbitrary as some kind of title, didn't sit well with him.

He had always felt like he didn't belong here. In a place like Elderglen, where every person seemed to fit into one neat category, Valen had never been able to find a label that made sense. He wasn't the strongest, nor the smartest. He was just… Valen. And that was enough, or so he thought.

But as the crowd grew, the tension in the air thickened. Valen's curiosity couldn't keep him away. He squeezed through the group, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. The Guildmaster stood at the front of the fountain, his long white beard flowing like a river, his ancient eyes scanning the gathered recruits. The Guildmaster's presence alone was enough to make even the bravest adventurers falter.

"Next!" The Guildmaster's voice rang out, booming over the crowd.

A young woman stepped forward, her hands trembling. She had short black hair and a sturdy build, dressed in the simple clothes of a farmer. Valen could see her eyes darting nervously from the Guildmaster to the crowd, unsure of what to expect. She knelt before the Guildmaster, holding a small crystal in her hand. The crystal glowed faintly, a sign that it would reveal her class.

The Guildmaster took the crystal and held it up to his gaze, muttering an incantation under his breath. The crystal pulsed with light, then settled into a steady glow.

"A… Farmer," the Guildmaster said, his voice flat. "A class of no consequence."

The woman's face fell, but she nodded with dignity, accepting the reality. "Thank you, Guildmaster."

The crowd murmured, some sympathetic, others indifferent. It wasn't surprising. A Farmer class meant that the woman's life would be spent in the village, working the land, just like her ancestors had. There was no room for adventure or excitement in that class.

Valen felt a pang of sympathy. He couldn't imagine how she must feel, having her life defined by something so simple. It made him uncomfortable, reminded him of his own uncertainty.

The Guildmaster continued, his voice growing more impatient. "Next!"

The next recruit, a young man with wild red hair, stepped forward. He was more confident than the woman, his eyes alight with hope. He held his crystal tightly, awaiting the moment of revelation. The Guildmaster took it from him, and the crystal once again began to glow.

"Hunter," the Guildmaster muttered, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "A low-level class. You are not what I seek."

The young man's shoulders slumped, and he walked off the stage without a word.

"Next!"

The Guildmaster's voice rang out again, but Valen couldn't bring himself to leave. He was rooted in place, his thoughts racing. What if this wasn't just a simple test? What if there was something more to this than just titles and classes?

Finally, it was his turn. He hadn't planned on stepping forward, but as the Guildmaster looked directly at him, a strange force seemed to pull him toward the center of the square. He didn't know what it was—perhaps it was curiosity, or maybe a deeper pull, but his legs carried him forward before he could stop them.

Valen held his breath as the Guildmaster studied him for a long moment. His piercing eyes seemed to look right through him, assessing something Valen couldn't understand.

"Name?" the Guildmaster asked, his voice sharp.

"Valen," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Class?" The Guildmaster held out the crystal with an expectant look.

Valen hesitated. The crystal felt cold in his hands. He didn't know why he was holding it, but it felt strangely familiar.

"I… I don't know," Valen muttered, lowering his gaze. He had never taken the class test before.

The Guildmaster raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed, but then something changed. The crystal in Valen's hands began to glow—a deep, haunting green, almost like the color of a shadowed forest at night. It pulsed with an energy that Valen had never felt before, a powerful, unsettling force that seemed to resonate deep within his bones.

The crowd gasped. The Guildmaster's eyes widened in surprise, his old hands shaking as he held the crystal up to his face, muttering an incantation under his breath.

"This… this is impossible," the Guildmaster whispered, his voice barely audible. "A five-star class… but how?"

Valen stood frozen, confused and frightened. What was happening? The crowd whispered among themselves, unsure of what to make of the situation.

The Guildmaster's gaze shifted from the crystal to Valen, his expression one of awe and caution. "You don't know, do you? You are no ordinary recruit. You are a Necromancer."

The word hung in the air like a curse.

Valen blinked. Necromancer. A name that brought to mind dark magic, forbidden spells, and untold power.

But Valen had no idea what it meant.

He looked down at the glowing crystal, his heart racing. Something deep within him stirred, but he couldn't comprehend it. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready for whatever this was.

The Guildmaster's eyes narrowed, his tone serious. "You are destined for great things, but only if you learn to control this power."

And with those words, Valen's life would never be the same again.