When Luka stepped through the glowing door, the familiar chime of a notification rang in his ears. He barely had time to brace himself before a massive display materialized in front of him:
[Congratulations, Luka.]
[Level Cleared: Survival of the Strongest.]
[Stats Increased Substantially.]
It scrolled on, a deluge of numbers and updates that were dizzying in their scope. His strength, agility, endurance—everything had skyrocketed to a point that almost felt laughable.
Strength: 9→ 52
Agility: 39 → 98
Endurance: 51 → 130
Perception: 42 → 95
Player Stats
- Name: Luka
- Level: 1
- Class: Intermediate
- Strength: 10/10 +42
- Intelligence: 10/10
- HP: 10/10
- Skill: Middle Class
- Swordsmanship: 10/10
- Defense: 8/10
The list went on, but Luka couldn't focus on the specifics. The sheer magnitude of it was staggering.
He clenched his fists experimentally, his muscles rippling with newfound power. The cuts and gashes that had torn across his body were gone, leaving smooth, unscarred skin in their place. His vision was sharper than it had ever been.
He wasn't just healed. He was... enhanced.
Luka reached for his warhammer, which still bore the blood and viscera of those he had killed. When he lifted it, he nearly stumbled backward. The weapon that had once been a cumbersome beast of metal now felt absurdly light, almost like holding a wooden stick.
"It's so light," he muttered, tossing it from hand to hand like a toy. He swung it experimentally, the head slicing through the air with terrifying ease.
Even his movement felt different. He took a cautious step forward, then another, testing his body like a man adjusting to a new pair of legs. His strides were smoother, faster, more precise. Where there had once been sluggishness, there was now a predatory grace.
It wasn't just an upgrade—He was reborn.
But there was something unsettling about it.
"It's like they're encouraging us to rip each other apart," he said to himself, twirling his hammer again, marveling at how light it truly felt.
Before he could experiment further, a familiar flutter of wings broke the silence. He spun around just in time to see the bird from earlier—the one that had guided him in his fight against the werewolf—perch gracefully on a stone pillar nearby.
"Congratulations, Luka," the bird chirped, its voice smooth and oddly soothing, though the smugness in its tone was impossible to miss. "Now, it's time for the next phase."
Before Luka could ask what the hell that meant, the ground beneath him trembled slightly. A massive door materialized a few steps ahead of him, its intricate carvings glowing faintly in the dim light.
"Welcome," the bird said with a flourish, "to Elvania."
The door groaned open, revealing a blinding light. Luka shielded his eyes with his arm and stepped through cautiously. The moment he crossed the threshold, the world shifted around him.
When his vision adjusted, he found himself standing on a sprawling plateau, the likes of which he had never seen before.
The landscape was surreal, like something pulled straight from a dream. Houses were arranged in perfect concentric circles, their designs simple yet elegant. The entire area was encased in what looked like an invisible barrier, shimmering faintly in the air, as though reality itself was bending to protect this place. Beyond the barrier, there was nothing—just endless sky stretching out in all directions.
The ground felt solid, but Luka couldn't shake the disconcerting feeling of standing above nothingness. It was as if this entire world was floating on a chunk of land suspended in midair.
"Elvania..." Luka whispered, his voice trailing off as he turned in slow circles to take it all in.
Before he had time to process it all, he was abruptly teleported again. This time, he found himself standing in a massive hall, its ceiling stretching impossibly high. The air was thick with tension and curiosity as he realized he wasn't alone.
There were others present in the hall.
The bird reappeared, its wings flapping lazily as it landed on a golden pedestal at the front of the room. It surveyed them all with an air of authority.
"Congratulations," it exclaimed, its voice echoing throughout the hall. "You have successfully cleared the first level. That is no small feat, and you should be proud of yourselves. But the journey ahead is long, and this is only the beginning."
Luka scanned the room, taking in the people around him. There was a tall man with silver hair and a scar running down the side of his face, his expression unreadable. Beside him stood a woman with piercing green eyes and a posture so rigid she looked like she was carved from stone.
In stark contrast, a younger man—probably in his late teens—leaned casually against the wall, a cocky grin plastered across his face. His clothes were torn, and he looked like he had been through hell, but there was a dangerous energy about him that made Luka uneasy.
Then there was the girl. She couldn't have been older than fourteen, her small frame dwarfed by the oversized sword strapped to her back. She clung to it like it was her lifeline, her wide eyes darting around nervously.
The bird's voice snapped Luka out of his observations.
"This," it said, gesturing with one wing, "will serve as your resting place as you ascend through the levels. Here, you will train, prepare, and recover. But," it added ominously, "there are rules you must follow. Breaking them will result in immediate elimination."
A notification appeared in front of Luka, the glowing text floating in midair. He read it quickly:
[Rules of Elvania]
No fighting among participants.
Do not damage the environment.
Follow instructions during challenges.
Failure to participate in a challenge results in elimination.
Respect the overseer (that's me, by the way).
The last line was accompanied by a smug squawk from the bird.
"These rules," the bird stated, "are non-negotiable. Break them, and you'll be... removed. Permanently."
The atmosphere in the room grew heavier. Luka glanced around, noticing the tension in everyone's faces. Even the cocky kid had sobered up, his grin fading as he reread the notification.
Once the rules were clear, the bird flapped its wings and disappeared in a burst of radiant light.
Luka stood still for a moment, the air around him heavy with silence. Then, with a cautious glance at his surroundings, he began to explore the area.
The first thing he noticed was the training hall—a massive structure filled with every type of weapon imaginable. Rows of swords, axes, bows, and even more exotic tools of destruction lined the walls. Training dummies stood in neat rows, some already bearing the marks of previous participants.
Beyond the training hall was a communal area with long tables and a small kitchen. A few of the others had already gathered there, cautiously eyeing each other as they ate.
Further out, Luka discovered what looked like personal quarters, each marked with a glowing nameplate. His own room was sparse but functional, with a bed, a desk, and a small storage chest.
Despite the strange surroundings, the place had a certain charm. It felt... safe.
He let out a bitter, humorless laugh at the thought. Safe?
He knew better than to let his guard down.
This wasn't a sanctuary—it was just the eye of the storm.
A fleeting reprieve before chaos inevitably struck again.