The remnants of blood and carnage still lingered in Malik's mind as he made his way back to Eldarath. The taste of his recent kills, the overwhelming power surging through his veins—it was intoxicating, yet grounding. He was no longer bound by the limitations of a mere mortal. Each battle refined him, sharpened him into something greater. The results of this were shown through his growing collection of stat points.
Malik opened the system screen with a single thought, eager to see the progress he'd made.
----------------------------
Name: Malik Thana
Age: 19
Race: Primordial Shifter
Rank: Advanced+(Late)
Gold: 2000
Level: 6
Stats = 360 Available Stat Points
Vitality - 60
Strength - 50
Agility - 50
Endurance - 50
Intelligence - 85
Mana - 85
Perception - 50
Charm - 100
Soul - 65
Traits/Abilities:
-Dark Magic
-Dragon Inheritence
-Regeneration(Lesser)
-Mana Sense(Lesser)
-Acidic Venom
----------------------------
"To think that a single mission gave me such a massive payout!" Malik grinned as he began distributing the stat points accordingly.
[+115 Soul]
[+115 Mana]
[+30 Strength]
[+30 Agility]
[+30 Perception]
[+20 Vitality]
[+20 Endurance]
The moment he confirmed his choices, a wave of raw energy surged through his body. His muscles tensed, his bones felt like they were forging themselves anew. A deep vibration rumbled through his core, as though something inside him had been unlocked. His breath sharpened, and his senses expanded—his steps felt lighter, his vision clearer, the very air itself seemed to slow around him.
His power had taken another leap forward.
And with it… a long-awaited realization settled over him.
He could finally summon Kairo.
The knowledge sent a pulse of anticipation through his veins. For weeks, he had felt the presence of the dragon lingering just beneath the surface—watching, waiting. Now, the barrier had shattered. With a single command, he could manifest Kairo in this world, a true dragon standing at his side.
But before he could even voice the thought, Kairo sighed. "Not yet."
Malik's brows furrowed. "Why not?"
"Because you don't understand what my appearance will cause."
Malik stopped walking, standing in the middle of the empty road. The sky stretched vast above him, streaked with the first hints of twilight. The distant mountains cast long shadows against the horizon, but his attention was fully on Kairo.
"I've seen powerful beings in this world," Malik said, voice steady. "I've fought Master- Rank warriors, beasts, and spellcasters. What's stopping me from using every advantage I have?"
Kairo's voice rumbled with something deeper than caution. "Malik, I am not a summoned beast. I am a dragon. My presence alone will send shockwaves through this entire continent."
A silence stretched between them.
"Do you think the Grandmasters will ignore the arrival of a true dragon? Do you think the noble houses, the military factions, the rulers of this world will simply let you keep me hidden?" Kairo's tone was sharp, edged with a gravity that Malik hadn't fully considered before. "Dragons may exist here, but the moment I set foot in this world, every powerful entity in Eldarath and beyond will begin moving. And you are not yet ready to face them."
Malik's fingers twitched at his side. He hated the logic of it. He hated that Kairo was right.
He had spent what felt like months clawing his way up from the bottom, growing stronger at a rate that defied reason. But there was still a huge gap—between him and those who ruled this world. He had yet to feel it firsthand, but he was aware of the levels of power some wielded in this world.
If the rulers of this world truly knew what he was…
A slow exhale left his lips. "So, I keep you hidden a little longer."
"For now." Kairo's voice softened. "If today was anything to go by, you are not far from reaching Master+. Once you cross that threshold, things will change. And then… perhaps it will be time."
Malik rolled his shoulders, feeling the raw power coursing through his veins. "Fine. I'll wait."
A beat of silence. Then, Kairo chuckled. "You almost sound patient."
Malik smirked. "I can be. When I have to be."
With that, he turned back toward the city, his steps steady, his resolve hardened. His power had grown. His path was clearer than ever. And though he would not summon Kairo today…
The time would come.
And when it did, the world would never be the same.
…
…
House Valtair was a name that commanded respect, power, and fear throughout the City of Eldarath. Unlike many noble houses that basked in public adoration, the Valtair family operated in the shadows, weaving influence through the veins of politics, mercenary dealings, and economic monopolies. They were not just an aristocratic family—they were a dynasty built on wealth, control, and ruthlessness.
In the lavish halls of House Valtair, a noble estate nestled deep within Eldarath's highest district, Seth knelt before his cousin, Lord Aedric Valtair. The noble's dark eyes held a mix of amusement and disdain as he listened to the mercenary's furious rant.
"You don't understand, cousin!" Seth seethed, his fists clenched. "That bastard humiliated me in front of everyone! He thinks he's untouchable!"
Aedric leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of crimson wine. His gold-trimmed black robes shimmered under the candlelight. The room was adorned with luxurious paintings and golden artifacts—symbols of his family's wealth and influence.
"You came all this way," Aedric mused, "to ask me to assassinate some nameless upstart just because he bruised your ego?"
Seth's teeth clenched. "He's dangerous. He's… not normal."
Aedric raised an eyebrow. "And you expect me to waste my resources because you got embarrassed?" He scoffed, setting his wine down. "Grow up, Seth. If you want revenge, do it yourself. But don't drag House Valtair into your childish grudges."
Seth's face twisted with frustration, but he knew better than to argue. His cousin wasn't interested in petty squabbles.
But that didn't mean he wouldn't act.
If House Valtair wouldn't help, he'd find someone who would.
…
…
Malik passed through Eldarath's massive iron gates just before sundown. The second-largest city in the Solvarian Empire stretched before him, its towering structures illuminated by the glow of enchanted street lamps. The city hummed with life, a stark contrast to Vel Ryn's smaller, quieter streets. He walked with the unhurried ease of a predator that had already fed, his steps slow, measured. The weight of the massacre he had left behind did not burden him; instead, it had left him with something far more valuable—power.
Kairo's voice hummed in amusement. "Much grander than our last stop, isn't it?"
Malik adjusted his hood, his golden eyes flickering beneath the fabric. "It's… more than I expected."
The streets were packed with people—merchants haggling, performers captivating audiences, warriors and mages boasting of their latest conquests. Every corner of the city pulsed with opulence and opportunity.
His first stop was the mercenary guildhall, where he claimed his bounty for the Crimson Vultures. The receptionist hesitated at first, but without proof of foul play, they had no choice but to pay him.
[10,000 Gold Received]
His total gold now sat at 27,500, a significant increase. But he knew he needed much more.
As he stored the coins in his system's inventory, Kairo whistled. "Convenient, isn't it? Imagine carrying that around in a sack."
Malik smirked. "No one would dare rob me."
With his business settled, Kairo made a suggestion. "How about we explore? You've been grinding for days now. Enjoy the city for once."
Malik considered it, then nodded. "Fine. Just for tonight."
…
…
The city at night was even more vibrant than the day. Street performers wielded enchanted instruments, their melodies weaving through the bustling marketplace. Merchants hawked rare spices, exotic fabrics, and trinkets infused with minor enchantments. Brothels with veiled courtesans whispered promises of pleasure, while gambling dens roared with the cheers of winners and the curses of the damned.
Malik sampled local delicacies, sweet spiced meats and rich honeyed wine, enjoying the symphony of chaos that filled the streets.
Kairo chuckled. "You're actually having fun."
Malik sighed, rolling his eyes. "I can appreciate a good meal."
For hours, he wandered, observing, learning. Despite its beauty, Eldarath had shadows. There were corners of the city where deals were made in whispers, where danger lurked behind charming smiles. Some were subtle—a noble exchanging a heavy pouch of coin with a cloaked figure in an alleyway. Others were obvious—a man bleeding out in the dark, his throat slit from a failed bargain.
Kairo exhaled. "This city is more than just a battlefield—it's a kingdom built on whispers and blades."
Malik's lips curled slightly. "That's why I'm starting to like it."
And then, as he walked down a secluded alleyway—he heard it.
The clash of steel. The roar of a crowd.
A fight.
Intrigued, he followed the sounds down a hidden stairway, deeper beneath the city.
What he found was beyond his expectations.
Beneath Eldarath's bustling streets, hidden within the labyrinth of old tunnels, was a coliseum unlike anything Malik had seen before.
It was massive—a grand underground arena, surrounded by roaring spectators. The scent of blood, sweat, and death lingered in the air. The coliseum stretched wide beneath the city, a circular pit of sand and stone, surrounded by rows upon rows of roaring spectators. Lanterns of enchanted fire flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow over the combatants below.
Fighters clashed in brutal combat, their weapons coated in fresh gore. Some battles ended with triumphant cheers—others ended in lifeless silence.
The betting tables were packed, piles of gold changing hands as gamblers placed their wagers.
Malik's eyes gleamed beneath his hood. "Now this… is interesting."
He took a seat near the edge, watching as two warriors fought to the death. One wielded a flaming spear, the other a pair of enchanted axes that cracked with lightning. Their movements were precise, every strike calculated.
Malik could already see it—the hunger in their eyes, the desperation to survive.
A predator's battlefield.
A woman beside him, draped in dark silk and adorned with golden rings, noticed his interest.
"First time here?" she mused, voice like liquid honey.
Malik didn't look at her. "Something like that."
She leaned closer, her voice silky with amusement. "Then let me explain. These aren't just meaningless fights. This is the Challenger's Ranking."
Malik finally turned to her. "Ranking?"
The woman's lips curled into a grin. "Oh, you don't know? There are a thousand fighters in the ranking. To enter, you must challenge someone from the bottom 100. Work your way up, and if you're strong enough, you can climb fast. But to stay in, you must keep fighting."
Malik leaned back, intrigued. "And the top?"
The woman chuckled. "The top ten are untouchable. You can only challenge someone within ten ranks of you. The top five? Even stricter. If you want to face number one, you have to take down number two first."
Malik smirked. "That keeps things entertaining."
The woman's eyes twinkled. "You seem like you're thinking about joining."
Malik exhaled, watching as one fighter finally drove his spear through his opponent's throat, ending the match in a brutal, decisive finish.
The crowd erupted in cheers. Blood soaked the arena floor.
The woman nudged him. "If you're interested in real fights, you should come back next week. Number four is challenging number three."
Malik's gaze darkened with intrigue.
The fourth-strongest fighter in the underground against the third.
A true test of power.
As Malik let the information settle, Kairo's voice echoed in his mind, smooth and laced with amusement.
"You should join."
Malik's lips barely twitched. "Oh?"
"Yes. Think about it—this is the perfect opportunity. Not only do you get to test yourself against stronger opponents, but imagine the rewards. You've been wanting to level faster, right? Kill a few of these so-called legends and see how much power you gain from them."
Malik exhaled, tapping his fingers idly against the wooden railing. "You're suggesting I walk into a public arena and start eating challengers in front of an audience?"
Kairo snorted. "Obviously not. Just fight, win, and collect what's useful. If you play your cards right, this place could become your hunting ground."
Malik chuckled softly, then tilted his head toward the woman beside him. "Alright, I'll bite. What do the champions actually win in this?"
The woman arched a brow, amused by his sudden interest. "Gold, for starters. If you're in the top ten, every match you win gets you 100,000 gold. If you're number one, you make half a million per fight."
Malik stilled. Now that was something to note.
"And that's just the money," she continued. "There are also enchanted artifacts—armor and weapons crafted by grandmaster mages. The higher you climb, the more access you get to the best enchantments, the best equipment, the best sponsors."
Malik's smirk grew wider.
"And how does one enter?"
The woman's gaze lingered on him, curiosity flickering in her dark eyes. "You must challenge someone between rank 1000 and 900. If you win, you take their rank. From there, you keep climbing. But first…"
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"You must meet Lady Cadrill."
Malik noted the name immediately.
"And where might I find this Lady Cadrill?"
The woman smiled, a knowing gleam in her eyes. "She doesn't just meet anyone. You have to make an impression."
Malik exhaled, rolling his neck slightly. "What kind of impression?"
The woman tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You could do it the usual way—make some noise, kill someone important, get her attention."
Malik hummed. "Tempting."
She smirked. "Or you could do something more… theatrical. Find a way to enter the arena before she invites you."
Malik considered his options, his fingers tightening slightly against the edge of the railing. He had never been one for grand entrances, but if he wanted to climb the ranks quickly, he needed a strategy.
"Where does she stay?"
The woman chuckled. "You don't go to her. She comes to you—when you've earned it."
Malik glanced back at the arena, where the next fighters were already entering the pit. The crowd was wild, the hunger for blood thicker than the air itself.
A perfect place to carve his name into the bones of Eldarath.
Kairo's voice hummed in agreement. "Then let's get to work."
Malik stood, his smirk returning. "Thanks for the information."
The woman watched him leave, her lips curling. "Something tells me I'll be seeing you again."
Malik simply waved over his shoulder, his path already set.