He was infamously known as the Dark Knight. It was a name that struck terror—or at least mild annoyance—into the hearts of his foes.

Markus A. Black had become a monster of PVP gameplay in Wonder Path, a typical fantasy MMORPG brimming with various races, classes, storylines, and skills, each more ludicrous than the last.

Despite his inexperience, Markus shot up the ranks among professional and hardcore players like a newbie on a caffeine high, using his real-life name as a badge of noob honor. “Markus” wasn’t exactly the most intimidating moniker in a game where people transformed into legendary heroes and mythical creatures, but somehow it worked for him—mostly because he steamrolled everyone in battle.

He stared into the distance, contemplating his new reality, and then glanced down at his body—a rather impressive amalgamation of blackened earth and ebony armor.

“It is really happening, huh?” he muttered to himself, feeling slightly absurd.

Somehow, he had possessed the body of his game character. Towering over six feet tall, he was decked out in black armor that seemed to meld with his golem flesh. It was probably due to his [Integrated Equipment] trait as a golem. To an unsuspecting observer, he could easily pass as just another human who had taken “dressing for success” a little too literally.

“Ah, what am I supposed to do with my life now?”

Markus summoned his soul-bound legendary weapon, [End], with a flourish that would have impressed even the most seasoned knights—or at least a few enthusiastic spectators. The weapon could transform into any orthodox weapon known to knights, which essentially meant it could turn into a sword and maybe a very confused shovel.

Jokes aside, it was a very powerful weapon usually in the shape of a sword in its default state,

With a single swing of his [End Sword], Markus unleashed a devastating arc of energy that sliced through dozens of trees like they were nothing more than flimsy toothpicks. A trench carved itself into the earth, proving his raw power and a rather dramatic exaggeration of his current mood.

“Damn,” he muttered, watching the unfortunate trees tumble helplessly to the ground, their leaves fluttering in the air like green confetti at a very one-sided celebration.

Markus was angry. Not the “I misplaced my keys” kind of angry, but the “someone stole my favorite snack during a raid” level of rage. This was the kind of anger that could fuel a small army or at least a highly motivated group of adventurers. He had been gearing up for a grand battle, one that he had been daydreaming about for weeks, only to discover that his opponents had mysteriously vanished. He was left standing in an empty forest, surrounded by the remnants of his not-so-great tree massacre, with no one to challenge him.

“Where did everyone go?” he growled, glaring at the distant hills as if they were somehow responsible for his predicament. “Damn it… This is really happening, huh? Where is this place?”

Markus was angry, not because he had no love for trees.

It was simply because he had anger management issues, and PVP was his only way to vent his frustrations. It wasn’t helping that his anger wasn’t the easily quenched and expressive kind; his anger was more like the Arctic: quiet, never-ending, and cold.

With a thought, his weapon vanished and returned to his soul. He felt an emptiness in his hands where the sword had been, a reminder that he had not only lost his opponents but also the thrill of the fight. The forest around him felt too still, the silence oppressive, amplifying the frustration that simmered beneath his calm exterior. The vibrant sounds of the world—chirping birds, rustling leaves, and distant monsters—seemed to mock his isolation.

Markus assessed his current situation, realizing he was now inside the body of his game avatar. Instead of gazing at a computer screen, he moved as the Dark Knight, a figure who struck fear into his foes with nothing more than his presence.

As a maxed-level character, he had little to fear when it came to strength.

Yet he knew better than to be arrogant. There were undoubtedly beings out there far stronger than he, lurking in the shadows of this expansive world. Even as he reveled in his newfound power, he needed to confirm whether this was indeed the same world of Wonder Path he had navigated countless times before.

Markus attempted to access his [World Map], hoping that the game mechanics still operated as they had in the game. He focused his thoughts, expecting the familiar interface to appear, but nothing happened. Frustration bubbled within him. “So, that doesn’t work.”

Next, he tried his [Inventory]. As he summoned it, a dark void manifested before him, swirling with a mysterious energy. He concentrated on an item he could use right now, and after a moment, he pulled out a whistle made from a demon's horn.

“At least the inventory system still works…” he muttered.

He brought the whistle to his helm’s sorry simile of his lips and blew into it, producing a haunting sound that echoed through the trees. Almost immediately, a skeletal horse materialized before him. Its body was wreathed in blue flames. It was a Nightmare, his trusty mount in the game.

Markus couldn't help but want to smile, but couldn’t. Still, the absence of the World Map in his head reminded him that he could no longer abuse Fast Travel. Now he had to rely on more conventional means of transportation, and the thought of traversing the expansive world on foot—or even horseback—added an element of challenge he hadn’t anticipated.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

He swung himself onto the Nightmare’s back, the heat of the blue flames warming him as he settled into the saddle. The skeletal steed pawed at the ground impatiently, its hollow eyes fixed on the path ahead. Markus took a moment to steady himself, then pointed the horse toward the nearest landmark he remembered from the game.

Markus arrived beneath the imposing statue of Awena, a goddess revered in Wonder Path. She stood over a hundred feet tall. Her upper half was naked and her lower half was draped in delicate silk. In one hand, she wielded a gleaming sword, while the other clutched a skull—a symbol of her dominion over life and death. It was a sight he had only glimpsed on his computer screen, yet now it towered over him in all its majestic, unsettling glory. This was just one of the few goddesses that existed in this world, and her presence filled him with a sense of awe and trepidation.

Well, she was cute…

“Welcome to the Shrine of Awena, traveler…” A voice echoed through the clearing, smooth yet resonant, cutting through the quiet of the Dark Forest.

Markus was a bit startled as a lich draped in holy raiment emerged from the gathered bones at the statue’s foot. The creature’s skeletal visage was adorned with ornate golden embellishments, contrasting the decay that made up its form.

The lich’s eyes glowed with a pale blue light, fixing on Markus with an intensity that would have sent a shiver down to any mortal’s spine. “You have come seeking guidance, or perhaps a challenge,” it intoned, each word laced with a depth that suggested both wisdom and danger. “What is it you desire from the goddess?”

Judging by the lich’s masculine voice, Markus assumed it was male.

Markus had already noticed that he was within the Dark Forest’s regions, recognizing familiar flora such as the ominous Nether Blooms. Their petals would glow faintly in the shadows. And then there was the eerie Blackened Trees that twisted unnaturally, their bark charred as if by fire.

The Dark Forest was a vast and foreboding expanse, occupying a significant portion of the southern and western lands. The knowledge of this place had been sparse, but it never stopped nations, adventurers, or just anyone from challenging this place.

“I seek nothing from your goddess,” Markus addressed the lich, “I only wish to know which part of the Dark Forest this place occupies.”

The lich tilted its skull slightly, regarding Markus with an expression that conveyed both amusement and curiosity. “You stand at the Shrine of Awena, deep in the heart of the Dark Forest,” it replied. “This area is a nexus of spiritual energy, a place where the boundaries between life and death blur. But it is not without its dangers.”

Markus nodded, absorbing the lich’s words. “Where is the nearest civilization, lich?” he asked.

“The nearest settlement lies to the north, nestled at the edge of the forest,” the lich explained. “The village of Eldergrove is a humble place, populated by those who have learned to navigate the dangers of the forest. However, be warned: the inhabitants are wary of outsiders, especially those who bear the Dark Knight’s mark.”

The Dark Knight’s mark.

This was the source of Markus’s infamy, the reason his presence sparked wariness—and fear—in those around him. It stemmed from an S-tier skill called [Dark Knight], a rare and coveted ability that granted him an arsenal of passive enhancements: boosted movement speed, enhanced stealth, and other invaluable advantages. Wonder Path, the game he knew so well, didn’t rely on a conventional class system; instead, it boasted an intricate skill system where players could gain abilities by meeting specific, often grueling, prerequisites.

S-tier skills were the pinnacle of these abilities, notorious for being almost impossible to acquire, and [Dark Knight] stood as a prime example. To earn it, a player needed a hundred-kill streak in PVP against opponents of equal level and skill—a feat only a handful of players could boast of accomplishing. And even then, [Dark Knight] came with a curious and chilling manifestation: the player would have no shadow. Markus had no shadow. This strange feature had led to the skill’s ominous name and further fueled Markus’s reputation.

That was why it was called the Dark Knight’s mark.

S-tier skills held a unique prestige in Wonder Path, not only for their difficulty to obtain but also because they were limited to a single player per server. Once a player acquired an S-tier skill, no other could access it—making skills like [Dark Knight] exclusive and deeply influential in the world. These abilities weren’t just potent in PVP but also came with special effects on NPCs, which explained why the lich had regarded Markus with such reverence and caution. The Dark Knight’s mark was not merely a player’s perk; it was a legend embedded into the lore of the world itself.

Markus’s thoughts turned to the lich’s mention of Eldergrove.

Eldergrove... weren’t they supposed to have been destroyed?

In the storyline he remembered, Eldergrove had been overrun by dark creatures decades ago, with no survivors. Yet here it stood, a quiet but very real village. Was this truly the world of Wonder Path, or was he somewhere else entirely?

“No, forget Eldergrove…” he muttered to himself, before asking in a steadier voice, “What is the date today?”

The flames in the lich’s sockets narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing his skeletal features. “You do not know the date? Curious…” His hollow voice lingered, each word seemingly carefully chosen as if debating how much information to reveal to the dark-clad stranger before him. “It is the 12th of Brighthold, year 487 of the Current Era.”

Markus processed the date, piecing together a timeline from his game knowledge. The last update he remembered had placed the events of Wonder Path well into the year 550, which could only mean one thing—he was decades in the past. Eldergrove, as he recalled, had indeed been destroyed, overrun by a horde of undead that had spilled from the depths of the Dark Forest. If he truly was back in time, then there was a chance he might witness—or prevent—that event from happening.

Markus cleared his throat, a habit that now felt odd with his helm obscuring his face. “Thank you, lich. That is… useful.”

The lich continued to study him as if searching for an unspoken motive. “Traveler, if I may be so bold—what has drawn you here to this place, cloaked in armor most foul and wielding a skill feared even by the gods?”

“Rest assured, I didn’t come to threaten your shrine,” Markus replied, fixing his steely gaze on the lich. “I’ve simply found myself… misplaced. You could say I woke up on the wrong side of reality.”

The lich paused before nodding. “Reality often has many sides. Some more troublesome than others.” He gestured toward a nearby path that curved into the shadows of the forest, marked by low-hanging Nether Blooms. “Take the path north. It will lead you through the forest and toward Eldergrove, though beware—many creatures stir as the night nears, eager to challenge even those of your power.”

Markus gave a slight nod. He’d seen and conquered plenty of dangerous foes in Wonder Path, but now every step felt far more real. Yet, the thrill of the unknown and a chance to face it without the usual game crutches ignited a long-forgotten excitement within him.

“Appreciate the warning,” he replied. “And if your goddess asks, tell her the Dark Knight only seeks answers, nothing more.”

The lich inclined his head, the shadows deepening around his figure. “May the goddess grant you safe passage, though she seldom offers such gifts freely. Remember, wanderer: this forest has its own rules, and they seldom favor mortals.”

As Markus guided his Nightmare down the shadowed path, his mind churned with possibilities. Each step took him deeper into the unknown, the silence and weight of the forest closing in around him. Eldergrove lay somewhere ahead, and with it, perhaps, a chance to learn more about this world—and his place within it.