With Blazer thoroughly humiliated, sprawled across the arena floor, I scanned the roaring crowd. My heart should have been pounding with adrenaline and satisfaction, but something else gnawed at me. Among the throng, I spotted it—the same cloaked figure I had encountered in Hero Gurlax’s tomb. The one that spoke in riddles and left me more confused than enlightened.

And then, the game froze.

The crowd became eerily silent, their movements suspended mid-cheer like statues in a surreal tableau. The figure materialized before me, its presence exuding a strange energy—equal parts eerie and… oddly celebratory. Its tone was jubilant, almost mocking.

"Excellent." The voice echoed, carrying an unnatural resonance. "You’ve proven yourself not just to this audience, but to the world of Age of Eternity. It’s not levels or gear that define greatness—it’s effort, ingenuity, and raw talent. All of which you possess in abundance. You’ve reminded them all what separates the casuals from the pros."

I tightened my grip on my weapon, glaring at the specter. "You spoke in riddles before. If you’re going to pop up after every fight, at least tell me what you actually want."

The figure chuckled darkly. "Straight to the point, I see. Very well. Let me lay it bare: I was one of the creators of this game, before I was cast aside by the very company I helped build. Their betrayal was... unforgivable. They treated me like garbage. Can you believe that? Like common trash!"

Its voice twisted with venom at the last word, but I wasn’t buying the sob story.

"If they got rid of you, then how are you even here? Last I checked, game devs don’t haunt their own code."

The figure leaned closer, as if confiding a forbidden truth. "Because I transcended. This world… it’s more than just pixels and algorithms. It’s alive. And now, I’ve become part of it. I’ve ascended to something greater than human. And you, Astraeus, are destined to be my vanguard."

I blinked, then burst out laughing. "Vanguard? Yeah, no thanks. I didn’t grind through toxic guild drama and petty rivalries just to become someone else’s lackey. I have my own goals—being the best player in this game, on my own terms. Your whole ‘revenge against the system’ shtick? Hard pass."

The figure’s tone grew colder, its joy evaporating like smoke. "You would reject the gift I’m offering? To rise above the mediocrity of players, to wield true power—not just within this game, but beyond it? Do you not understand the opportunity I’m giving you?"

I crossed my arms, unwavering. "Oh, I understand just fine. There are plenty of other players who’d jump at the chance to be your lackey. Me? I don’t need your shortcuts or your vendettas. I’ll earn my place at the top the hard way—without your so-called gifts."

The figure’s form darkened, its edges flickering with static like a corrupted file. "Then so be it, Astraeus. You’ve chosen your path, and I will ensure it is fraught with hardship. The victories you claim today will taste of ash tomorrow. I will turn this game into a nightmare for you, and you will beg for respite before the end."

I smirked, unfazed. "Nightmares? Bring them on. I thrive under pressure. And when I do reach the top, it’ll only make it that much sweeter knowing I did it without you."

The figure lingered a moment longer, its presence heavy with silent fury, before vanishing in a burst of glitch-like particles. The game unfroze, the crowd’s cheers returning in full force. They chanted my name, celebrating my victory as Blazer was unceremoniously carted off the field by his guildmates.

But their cheers couldn’t shake the unease that crept over me. Whatever that figure was—glitch, ghost, or something else—it wasn’t done with me. And somehow, I doubted this would be our last encounter.

For now, though, I let the roar of the crowd wash over me. This was my moment, and no bitter dev-gone-rogue was going to steal it from me. I returned to Twilight City, a place that was usually buzzing with life—players advertising rare loot, groups recruiting for dungeon runs, or the constant hum of proxy voice chats. But now, it was eerily quiet, like the aftermath of a forgotten battle. No traders hawking their wares, no rowdy banter. The silence was almost suffocating. It felt like a sign: my time here was done.

The Coiled City called to me. Far across the Wildlands and through the treacherous Corax Mountains, it was a sprawling metropolis coiled like a serpent around a massive central pillar. Its structure was both chaotic and awe-inspiring, and its bustling hub would be my next destination.

The Wildlands posed no challenge. The lower-level monsters skittered out of my way, and I didn’t bother with the newbie players cautiously grinding in the area. I don’t PK out of malice… No, when I PK, it’s purely out of pettiness. But today wasn’t the day for indulging that part of myself. My focus was set on the Coiled City.

When I reached the Corax Mountains, the terrain shifted. Jagged cliffs and snow-dusted peaks surrounded me, their ridges hiding veins of ore and other resources. For a miner, this place was a paradise. For me? A detour I’d take another time. My goal was clear: cross these mountains and reach the next safe zone.

That’s when I saw them.

Blocking the narrow pass ahead was a familiar sight—an obnoxiously armored player and his group of equally obnoxious lackeys. Skullhead. The self-proclaimed king of PvP griefing. His ridiculous oversized helmet glinted in the dim mountain sunlight, and I groaned internally.

"Well, well," Skullhead sneered, raising his weapon. "Stop right there, noob."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

He was still calling me a noob. How creative.

"What do you want, asshat?" I shot back, casually resting my weapon on my shoulder. Better to call him something fitting.

He grinned smugly, clearly enjoying the attention. "Blazer was a high-level badass, and you buried him. There’s no way someone like you—a nobody—could pull off moves like that without exploiting the system." His tone was dripping with unwarranted confidence.

I sighed, shaking my head. "Blazer? Still an idiot. Look, if you’re gonna accuse me of hacking, at least do your homework first. Tell you what—go look up Royale Online, check the top ten meta builders of the last decade. Ignore every name that isn’t Avisious. Then, when you’re done, come back and let me know how it feels to be the dumbest person in this game."

He blinked, confused by my casual dismissal. One of his lackeys whispered something to him, and Skullhead’s smug grin faltered. Without a word, he opened his menu, presumably to look me up. The silence that followed was the sweetest thing I’d heard all day.

When he finally returned, his face was pale beneath the glowing skull helmet. "You’re… that guy, aren’t you? Avisious. I’ve seen the vids. Fifteen players—high levels—and you cut through them with nothing but a basic thief build." His voice trembled slightly, and the confidence he’d arrived with was now long gone.

I smirked. "Correct. And what you saw back then? That was just me playing around. This Fighter/Warlock build I’m running now? This is the new meta. It synergizes with every stat, every skill tree, and every playstyle I’ve mastered over the years. Blazer lost because he relies on the same tired stamina-draining combos and basic attack spam. The guy doesn’t even know how to move properly in this game."

Skullhead swallowed hard, glancing back at his crew, who were all shifting uncomfortably.

"Here’s the thing, Skullhead," I continued, stepping forward. He flinched. "Players like me? We don’t play this game to follow the rules. We rewrite them. And if you’ve got half a brain, you’ll do yourself a favor and find another mountain pass. I’m not in the mood to babysit a bunch of clowns today."

For a moment, he looked like he might say something. Instead, he motioned to his group, and they slinked off without another word, disappearing into the rocks like the vermin they were.

I sighed in relief as the path cleared. No unnecessary fights, no wasted time. The Coiled City was waiting, and I had no intention of letting anyone—or anything—slow me down. Eventually The Coiled City came into view, descriptions of it did it no justice, the thing was massive, I'm suprised it didn't render at the base of the mountains from the Wildlands side. I made my way down the path, there were hundreds of higher level players with their own guilds and hunting parties. The forums weren't kidding—this was just the beginning of the real game, a mere tutorial before the deeper, darker layers unraveled. Standing at the base of The Coiled City, I spotted the unmistakable glow of a quest marker hovering above an NPC stationed near the city gates. The farmer, clad in worn-out overalls and clutching a crude pitchfork, gestured with desperation.

"A Wyvern has been terrorizing the outskirts, torching fields and devouring livestock. If you wish entry to the Coiled City, you must slay the beast and bring us peace."

Straightforward enough. Slay the Wyvern, gain access, and progress the story. It was a textbook entry-level quest, but I couldn’t help feeling intrigued. Wyverns were far from true dragons, but they were still formidable opponents, and I wanted to see how the game handled such encounters. After all, the last dragon I faced was undead—a very different flavor of challenge.

Accepting the quest, I followed the marker into the outskirts. Along the way, I passed several players heading back toward the city gates, cheering over their victories. Most carried minor loot and wore wide grins of satisfaction, clearly reveling in their recent triumphs.

When I arrived at the quest location, the Wyvern was already waiting for me. It perched on a jagged boulder, its crimson scales shimmering in the sunlight, eyes locked onto me with predatory intent. As I approached, it let out a thunderous roar, the force sending ripples through the air.

I wasted no time. Drawing my sword, I unleashed Arcanic Blast: Dark Surge, a crackling wave of violet energy hurtling toward the Wyvern. The attack struck true, the dark energy ripping a chunk from its health bar. But the Wyvern wasn't one to be underestimated. With a beat of its massive wings, it launched into the air, circling ominously above me.

"Alright, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got."

As it swooped down, claws extended, I activated Light Step, my body becoming a blur as I darted forward, evading the strike and closing the gap. Swinging my sword, I aimed for its flank—but the blade bounced harmlessly off its shimmering scales.

A HUD notification blinked:

[Notice] Wyvern immune to physical damage. Use elemental or magical attacks.

Perfect. A grin spread across my face. This was the kind of challenge I thrived on. Switching tactics, I raised my offhand and called forth Wizard’s Perk: Lightning Bolt. A brilliant streak of electricity erupted from my fingertips, slamming into the Wyvern mid-air. The beast shrieked, stunned as arcs of lightning danced across its body.

With it momentarily incapacitated, I chained another spell: Arcanic Blast: Dark Chains. Shadowy tendrils erupted from the ground, wrapping around its legs and wings, pinning it to the earth with a resounding crash.

Now immobilized, the creature writhed in fury, but I wasn’t done yet. I activated Dark Hex: Weaken, a glowing sigil forming above the Wyvern as its defenses visibly crumbled. Its health bar dipped further, leaving it wide open for my finishing moves.

Channeling Arcanic Blast, I unleashed a flurry of strikes, the violet energy exploding on impact and carving massive chunks from its health. Each blast echoed through the valley, a symphony of destruction. The Wyvern made a desperate attempt to lash out with its tail, but I stepped back, easily dodging the sluggish strike.

With one final Arcanic Blast, the Wyvern let out a deafening roar before collapsing, its health bar depleted. The ground trembled as its massive frame hit the earth, lifeless.

As the Wyvern’s body faded, a small pile of loot materialized at my feet. Among the spoils were a bundle of crimson scales, a venom sac, and an unusual glowing orb labeled ‘???? Orb.’ Its tooltip offered no explanation, only an air of mystery.

“Guess I’ll figure you out later,” I muttered, pocketing the orb.

A popup appeared in my HUD:

Quest Complete: The Wyvern

Access to The Coiled City is now granted.

The gates creaked open, revealing the sprawling metropolis of the Coiled City. Its architecture was breathtaking—buildings spiraled upward along the city’s central pillar, while intricate pathways and sky bridges connected districts in a dizzying maze.

I stepped forward, noting the wary eyes of higher-level players who briefly glanced my way. They were sizing me up, but I paid them no mind. My focus was on what lay ahead. Rumors spoke of the Coiled City being more than just a hub—it was a gateway to two massive dungeons, one beneath the city and the other high above.

I couldn’t wait to explore both. This was it. The start of the game’s darker, more complex layers. And I was ready to carve my path through them, one victory at a time.