Flames devour Ethan's home, licking at the walls and beams. Heat sears his skin, and the air chokes him with the acrid stench of smoke and ash. He struggles, unable to breathe as the air burns his lungs. Through the inferno, a shadow moves, cutting through the smoke.

The man, his face framed by his long black hair and unruly beard, walks as if untouched by the heat. His hands drip blood on the ground, the red liquid sizzling as it hits the marble flooring. Ethan wants to lunge at the figure, but he's frozen, bound by an unseen force.

Ethan jolts awake to the first rays of sunlight and the chirping of birds. Sylas is still sleeping, inattentive to his surroundings. 'It should be around six,' Ethan thinks. Wanting to distract himself, he lets his mind wonder about this new realm. 'Their world seems bigger than ours, yet days are equal in length. And the gravity is sensibly the same.'

Ethan glances around, checking the clearing, and further away with predator's sight. He lays back, pressing his back against the hard surface of the rock he's sitting on. "Status," he says.

Ethan Reed

Lv.15 (Harbinger) Human

Class change available

Strength: 23 + Charisma: 12 +

Dexterity: 20 + Perception: 16 +

Constitution: 20 + Willpower: 23 (21) +

Intelligence: 20 +

Available characteristic points: 2

Titles

Dungeon conqueror (D)

First dungeon conqueror (D)

Dungeon conqueror (E)

Dungeon conqueror (F)

First dungeon conqueror (F)

First hunter

Goblin hunter

Hobgoblin hunter

Kin slayer

Kobold hunter

Skeleton hunter

Slayer of the first incursion

Warg hunter

Abilities

Anonymity (E)

Identification (F)

Insight (F)

Piercing shot (E)

Predator's sight (E)

Silent steps (F)

Spell casting (E)

Strengthening (F)

'It has become increasingly difficult to level up. I had to kill a lot of Huskstalkers, humans, and a troll to get from fourteen to fifteen,' he thinks. 'I shouldn't wait too long to change my class. Viktor's ability to paralyze everyone and Thea's ability to disrupt spells should belong to ascended classes."

"Class change," he says, summoning the myriad of illustrated cards. New ones made their appearance, including crafting classes. 'Remnants Warden has the same silver edge as Harbinger. I think it's an indicator of its rarity,' he thinks. 'I've unlocked more than twenty classes, but perhaps I could get rarer and more powerful ones.'

"Close," he says, and the windows vanish. He goes down from his perch and begins his morning routine.

As Ethan completes his push-ups, Sylas wakes up, emitting pained groans and massaging his back. After a minute of laziness, he finally stands. "Alright, let's get moving. The sooner we get there, the better. I don't want to spend one more night on the ground."

Twenty meters above ground, Sylas struggles in his ascent of Mount Silverveil. He moves along a rope placed by previous climbers. Yet, as Ethan did before him, he doesn't use it, as it unravels with each tug.

Above Sylas, standing on a rocky corniche and flanked by Russ, Ethan asks, "Why isn't there a settlement here to extract the minerals we are searching?"

Sylas looks up, blinded by the reflections of the sun. "Beside the monsters, the mountain erupts with Ether every few decades. The aura it releases can kill humans," Sylas explains. "The last time was six years ago."

"How was it?" Ethan asks as he grabs Sylas's hand to help him get to the corniche.

"It created magnificent waves of color in the night sky," Sylas answers. He glances at Ethan's sword, poorly sitting into the sheath he made for him. "Where is your sword!?" he demands.

Ethan looks at the sword he carries and replies, "I broke it on a monster's skull."

Sylas climbs to the corniche with renewed strength. "You broke it?! Do you know how valuable that sword was? I doubt I even have the strength to mold metal so rich in Ether," he fumes.

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"I still have the fragments if you want them," Ethan says. "The fact that I broke it means it wasn't good enough."

"You have no respect for the hard work that went into it," Sylas says.

"Make one good enough for me, and then I'll respect it," Ethan jests. "Backpack," he orders Russ, who climbs on Ethan's back, his paws, and his head over Ethan's shoulders.

They reach a grassy plateau, dotted with tall pines and bushes. Their objective, a hole in the mountain they spotted from its foot, stands before them.

A few strands of brown fur flutter in the wind, caught in the tunnel's rocks. Sylas moves to the entrance, rubbing strands between his fingers. An animalistic stench wafts from its depths, stinging Ethan's nose. Through predator's sight, Ethan can hear distant snores. Threads of Ether tightly populate the tunnel, denser and more potent than outside.

Russ squeaks from a dozen meters away, laying down in front of a bush. Ethan walks up to him and uses predator's sight to peer through the leaves. He finds the remnants of a small encampment: a modern backpack stuffed with berries, a black coat hanging from a branch, and a small travel knife.

"You should set up a rope to make the way down easier," Ethan says, hoping it will distract Sylas long enough.

"That's a good idea," Sylas says, moving back to the edge. He cuts a length of rope and starts tying it to a massive rock.

Ethan notices deep gouges in the ground, broken branches, and bloodstains smeared across the bark of a nearby tree. He crouches, examining the ground closely. Large, deep footprints lead towards the tunnel, alongside drag marks. The imprints are those of large, naked feet with claw-like nails. 'They attacked him in his sleep, bashed him on the ground and in that tree, then dragged him into the tunnel,' Ethan reconstructs.

Ethan gathers the remnants of the encampment. He stows the coat and the knife into the backpack and throws the lot far away. Ethan stands and surveys the area again with predator's sight, ensuring that nothing modern is left. He returns to Sylas, who has finished tying the rope.

Sylas gives the rope a final tug and stands up. "Let's go," he says, moving toward the tunnel.

Ethan takes the lead, descending carefully, with Sylas and Russ following closely behind. The deeper they go, the more potent the Ether becomes. It swirls around them, becoming an almost tangible force.

The tunnel narrows, and the stench grows stronger, overpowering Ethan's senses. Sylas coughs, covering his nose with his sleeve. Ethan pushes on, using predator's sight to guide them through the darkness.

They reach a cavernous opening filled with distant, echoing snores. Ethan scans the cavern, finding only bats and insects. "You can light up a torch," he says.

Sylas nods and ignites a torch, using it to search the cavern's walls. He stops along the remnants of silvery veins and places his bag on the ground. He begins the extraction, each impact of his pickaxe echoing loudly.

'Shouldn't exposed iron ore be red?' Ethan asks himself. 'Perhaps Ether stops it from oxidizing." Holding his sword, he places himself a few meters away from Sylas, listening for anything approaching them.

Minutes feel like hours as Ethan switches his gaze between every path connected to the cavern. Sensing the surrounding Ether, he realizes that, when strands graze the stone and minerals, it leaves a fraction of Ether inside of it.

Sylas stashes his pickaxe and stores the few chunks of ore he extracted. "Someone already took most of what this cavern had to offer," Sylas says. "Maybe we should go deeper."

"Should we follow the tunnels pouring out the most Ether?" Ethan asks. "We could find even better ore."

"We need to be careful," he says. "It's bearable for now, but if it gets too dense, it will become dangerous." He moves towards the tunnel emitting the most concentrated flow of Ether.

The temperature drops noticeably as they advance. The Ether becomes so dense that it slows down their movements, as if they were fighting against a strong wind.

Sylas stops as they pass a large, silvery vein. "There is probably more ore here than we can carry back, sweet," he says as he drops his bag to the ground.

"While you work, I'll go see if I can find what is emitting all of this Ether," Ethan says. "Russ, guard."

"You are leaving us? What do we do if Skullgors find us?" Sylas asks.

"They aren't following us; I can still hear them snoring," Ethan says. "And if I am wrong, just scream, and I'll be there immediately." As he resumes his steps, he thinks, 'Perhaps I could lower the Ether's density by using it. … Strengthening.'

As Ethan draws as much Ether as possible from the air, using every drop to power his ability, Sylas gasps. "How are you doing that?" he asks.

Ethan, who was walking away, turns around. "What do you mean?" he asks, unaware of what had shocked Sylas.

"Drawing Ether without meditating. You are walking around as if it's nothing," Sylas says, his jaw hanging slightly in utter incomprehension.

'That's what Viktor meant when he told me that no soldier could draw Ether like that,' Ethan realizes. "I've always been able to do that. Maybe it’s because the way I learned was different," he says.

"My Ether manipulation is at fifty-five, and I still need to meditate to draw Ether. And neither I nor anyone I know can do it with such intensity," he says.

'It's not like it's an unconscious thing; I still need to focus a part of my mind on it. But it's similar to listening to several conversations at once or continuously altering a plan to adapt to the situation. And Viktor, his mage, and Thea were all doing it, to some extent,' Ethan thinks. "Maybe you should try when you are in a safer place."

Sylas begins his work as Ethan disappears into the tunnel.