The world trembled beneath an endless sky of deep crimson and swirling storm clouds. It was a world on the edge, where the line between myth and reality had long been erased. The beasts of legend roamed freely, their monstrous forms an ever-present threat to humankind. Dragons, wyverns, and enormous serpents whose scales gleamed like metal, stalked the ruins of ancient cities. Monsters with eyes that burned with malevolent intent and claws that could tear through steel had grown so common, they were but a part of the landscape. Yet, in the chaos, humanity had adapted.
Superhumans, known as the Awakened, had risen from the ashes. They had tapped into strange powers—gifts that mirrored the forces of nature itself, as if the universe had recognized that to survive in such a violent world, the human spirit needed to evolve. But those powers came with their price. The Awakened were gifted with strength, speed, and skills far beyond mortal reach, but the dangers they faced were no less perilous.
In this world, every being was given a Class—a title and a role—by the mysterious system known only as The Grimoire. Those chosen by the system gained new abilities that enhanced their natural gifts. A blacksmith might awaken as a Forge Master, able to bend steel with their bare hands. A scholar could become a Seer, able to glimpse the future. Every person had a path, and the strongest of them wielded magic, summoning fire, lightning, or even the power of the earth itself.
But for every hero, there were monsters—creatures that tore through villages, slaughtering without mercy. For every awakened champion, there were those who had fallen to the dark side of their powers. And it was in this era, with the world teetering on the brink of war, that he awoke.
A sharp, burning pain erupted in his chest as if his body was being pulled in two. It felt like every cell in his body was being stretched, torn, and rewritten. The last thing he remembered was darkness—utter, all-consuming darkness. Then, the world flooded in.
The sounds of an explosion echoed in his mind—loud, like the roar of thunder. He gasped, forcing air into his lungs as the sensation of falling overwhelmed him. His eyes snapped open, and he immediately regretted it. The light of a distant, molten sun burned into his retinas, blinding him for a moment.
His body, too, felt wrong—light, but heavy. There was a disconnect between his mind and the way his body moved. The ground beneath him trembled, but he couldn't quite place it. His fingers twitched and clenched involuntarily, as if they had a mind of their own.
"Where... am I?" he whispered hoarsely, staring at the sky—a sky the color of blood.
His heart raced as memories—or fragments of them—began to resurface. A life in a different world. A life filled with technology, skyscrapers, and quiet streets. That life was now gone. He couldn't even remember his own name. His hands, once smooth, were calloused now—rough and thick with muscle. His body felt stronger, faster, but also... unfamiliar. This wasn't his body.
The Grimoire had chosen him, or had it? Was it all just a dream, a transition between lives? He couldn't tell. What he knew was this: he had been brought into a world where everything had been turned upside down. Where monsters ruled, and the weak were devoured. And most importantly, he had been reincarnated as someone... something... new.
Before he could think further, a deep growl rumbled through the ground. He stiffened, instincts kicking in as he looked around, searching for the source. A massive figure emerged from the shadows, its eyes glowing with a terrifying, predatory gleam.
It was a beast—towering, with black scales that shimmered like obsidian. Its wings spread wide, blocking out the sun, and its fangs dripped with venomous saliva. It looked like something out of a nightmare.
His heart slammed against his chest. Fear should have taken hold of him, but instead, there was a strange calm. His body moved before his mind could even catch up, his legs propelling him backward in an instinctive retreat. The beast was drawing nearer, its hunger unmistakable in the air.
But just as panic began to creep in, something incredible happened.
A sharp, holographic screen suddenly appeared before his eyes, glowing faintly with ethereal energy. The edges of the screen flickered as a voice, cold and mechanical, rang through his mind.
"Target detected. Magical Beast Class: Abyssal Wyvern. Eliminate for reward."
The words hung in the air, and his body stiffened. Eliminate? His gaze locked onto the towering wyvern as the system continued.
"Class Assigned: Battle-Knight.
Skills: Magic-enhanced combat.
Special ability: Divine Touch(locked)
Eliminate target to confirm compatibility."
"Magic?" His mind raced. "I have magical-powers?"
Before he could process it, a strange force surged within him—an overwhelming power that bubbled up from deep inside. His hand tingled with energy, and as if by instinct, his palm reached out. A glowing, ethereal blade materialized in his grasp, shimmering with a brilliance that hurt his eyes. The sword hummed with magical energy, as if it had always been a part of him, a weapon forged by his very will.
The system's voice echoed once more.
"Magic-imbued weapon detected. Divine Blade activated. Eliminate target."
There was no more time for thought. The beast, sensing the sudden shift in the air, let out a deafening roar and lunged forward, claws aimed to rip him apart. But he was faster. The blade in his hand crackled with energy, and without thinking, he swung it with all his might.
The glowing edge of the sword met the wyvern's claw with a shockwave of power. The beast recoiled, hissing in pain, as the air around them crackled. The sword didn't even slow. It cut through the beast's hardened scales like paper, sending the creature stumbling back, the once mighty beast now visibly wounded.
He stood there, breathing heavily, staring at the glowing blade in his hands. The weight of what had just happened sank in.
"I… I just did that." His voice was low, disbelieving. He had never fought before, and yet the power felt so natural. Like he was born to wield it.
The wyvern growled in fury, but now it was injured, and fear flickered in its eyes. It had underestimated him.
The system chimed again.
"Target weakened. Divine Blade: 75% effectiveness. Proceed to eliminate."
A rush of adrenaline shot through his veins. There was no time to waste.
With a battle cry that was foreign but instinctive, he charged forward, the blade slicing through the air with a terrifying hum. The magical power surged within him, pushing him faster, stronger, until there was nothing but the roar of the wind and the cries of the beast.
And in that moment, it was clear to him: this was no ordinary world. The magic, the beasts, the system—it was all a new reality, and he was meant to survive it. But to do so, he would need to fight, to harness the power within him, and eliminate the threats standing in his way.
The Grimoire had chosen him, and now, it was time to carve his destiny.