Out of nowhere, an image of a humanoid figure lurking in the dark with a dagger holding in its hand swiftly darted closer through him in a flash.

Everything seemed to stop at this moment, time moving slowly, as the trickle of blood could be heard for a moment of a second. Then the images came to stop and vanished into oblivion.

Awakened from the sudden information pounding its head. Olen opened both of its eyes with a grim look on his face as he repeated the image foreseen from his mind I have 1.1 seconds left!

Olen then felt his body suddenly limping as he bent to his knees, as he felt his strength drained once he activated his ability. The [Foresight] to foresee the foreboding feeling ahead of him.

All of a sudden, the foreboding feeling came back as it got stronger by a second. In a heartbeat, Olen forcibly lifted himself from his feet and dodged through the side right in time before the dagger pierced his heart.

And right before he thrust his sword at the figure in retaliation. Olen's feeble strength all of a sudden held over him, as he saw the sight of the sword hanging right over on the top of his eye.

Noticing the sword aimed at the man before its eye. A slight hesitation appeared in the figure's eyes, but soon it decisively pulled out its dagger from the ground, stabbing the dagger into his chest. But before the dagger could reach its target, a goblin emerged from the corner and sprang to its feet, intercepting the dagger and redirecting it back at the figure.

*Splash*

The figure hastily pulled out the dagger from its shoulder, but the goblin stubbornly held its two hands, pushing the dagger deeper into its flesh, pinning the figure into the spot. The figure let out another agonizing cry, startling Feimshall and Aflrick from the distance, as their footsteps rushed to the sound, checking what happened.

Soon enough, the two warriors reached the source of the sound with a look of horror at the scene unfolding right in their eyes, as they saw their Liege lying down in the snow hanging on by a thread.

Hearing the footsteps come to a stop, Olen immediately let out a groan to signal to the warriors that he is still alive and able to hear them. "I'm just suffering from mana exhaustion!"

Feimshall quickly ran to his Liege and leaned his shoulder under Olen's arm and lifted him from the ground. Meanwhile, Alfrick on the other side stared at the vague figure thrashing around in the snow, while the goblin continued to pin the figure to the ground, twisting the dagger in its shoulder.

The figure suddenly felt a shiver run down its spine and shuddered in fear as the sight of a man shrouded in blood appeared before its eyes. The goblin suddenly took its hand away from the dagger and cowered back into the night, hiding under its veil.

As the figure's hand reached out for the dagger, its feet stumbled backward in fear as the approaching man steadily closed in. But before it could grasp the dagger, a sword suddenly shot out from the darkness, hovering cautiously close to its neck.

“The night might have blinded me, but your dagger tells everything where you are, you shouldn’t have made it too noticeable,” Alfrick gloomily said.

Alfrick continued: “And at this distance, it's enough for me to tell that you are a human in some sort or other creature disguised as such” while he further threatened his sword right at the figure's neck.

Frightened at the sword hanging in its neck, the figure gave out an inaudible sound from its mouth, as if it was trying to communicate with the man in front of it, however.

As Olen listened to the muffled words of the figure, he noticed a distinctly feminine tone in its voice. As he pondered over the figure's origins, it dawned on him that the way Alfrick and Feimshall spoke was strikingly similar to the figure pinned in the ground. Olen was surprised that he hadn't noticed it earlier, that the two warriors had been speaking in his language since the moment they met.

‘It can’t be possible, who are they? the tone of their voice and speech is the same as the figure, but how?’

Is my mind translating the language they interpret? Olen thought back on his recent interactions with the two warriors.

"Don't kill me! You can keep this dungeon all for yourself, Nordian. Just let me live," the figure pleaded in fear, as it lay in the snow, panicking at the sight of the sword drawing closer to its neck.

Alfrick paused for a moment, pondering the figure's words. "How do you know I'm a Nord, and why does your tone sound like ours?" he asked, pressing the sword against the figure's neck. But, instead of killing it, he decided to slightly ease the pressure on the sword, allowing the figure to speak more comfortably.

"Ah! A Nordian who doesn't know their origins. How ironic to find one," the figure said with a condescending tone.

Alfrick scowled at the figure's disrespectful tone, as he menacingly replied with a bloodthirsty voice: "If you don't answer my questions, my sword will be the last thing you see in your life," cutting its neck and leaving a warning scar.

"I'll talk, I'll talk! I came from the entrance of the dungeon, the one you entered before. If not, that means you're either a dweller of the dungeon or a part of its ecosystem," the figure said in terror as it felt its own blood trickling from its neck.

"Ash Ka Rim, that's the land where our cursed tribe resides. In the heart of it lies a cluster of unstable portals that lead to various dimensions, or as they're now known, dungeons," the figure exclaimed in a panicked tone as it provided an answer to the man before them.

'Is this figure perhaps from a primitive civilization?' wondered Olen.

As Olen sensed Alfrick was done interrogating the figure, Alfrick began to raise his sword, making his decision to kill the figure right in front of him. Olen, seeing this, directly groaned to Feimshall, hoping that he could perceive his intentions and call Aflrick to halt.

Olen was too feeble to let out a spare of its strength, as his body was too exhausted to follow his instructions and can only rely on Feimshall to carry his body while letting out a groan to express his meaning.

Feimshall frowned at the sudden groaning of his liege, pausing for a second, racking his brain, and surprisingly decided to call Alfrick, but in a different version of what Olen had put in mind. "Alfrick! If you can hear me, you bloody bastard, the liege has taken a fancy to the feminine voice earlier and wishes for it to be captured instead," Feimshall shouted while looking at Olen with a manly aura.

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"BASTARD!" Olen thought, seething with anger.

Aflrick slowly drew his sword back to his waist and spoke in a low tone, "Consider yourself lucky this time. I could have killed you on the spot if it weren't for my liege," as he struck the figure in the head, knocking it unconscious.

[Escalade: Due to your efforts, you have stabilized the [Rift] to a normal state]

[The Council] wishes to know your location and rewarded you for your efforts]

[...]

[Your understanding toward your progression [Rift Dweller] has increased moderately]

[Your understanding toward the [Rift] has increased subtly]

[Due to your recent battles, you have gained a significant amount of increase in [One Handed Sword] proficiency]

[You have gained a skill from your [One-Handed Sword] [Basic swift slash]

[Your understanding toward the [Mana] has increased sharply]

[Your understanding toward the [Arcane] has increased subtly]

[Due to your understanding from the spell [Illuminate] and reaching a basic understanding in [Mana] and [Arcane]

[You have gained [Evocation] as proficiency]

***

Olen didn’t think that the first thing he would see in the morning was a goblin jumping atop Feimshall's body, doing a funny gesture right in front of his face, disturbing his sleep. The goblin was making a strange expression that may have been amusing to some. But for him, it was nothing but a nightmare coming to life right before his eyes.

As he struggled to rise from the ground, the echoes of battle still ringing in his ears, Olen felt a stiffness in his shoulder that made the task all the more difficult. But as he reached out to steady himself, his hand brushed against a strange, soft texture. Bewildered, Olen was sure that there was no such ornament or blanket when he had woken inside the town hall before the night ago. Except for a table right in the middle of the hall and a fireplace that didn't seem to run out of fuel.

However, Olen suddenly remembered a dead yeti outside the hall from the previous night. Its body was covered in thick, snowy fur that resembled the blanket he had just touched. Realizing the blanket was made from the yeti's fur, Olen decided to investigate it further to ensure his first day wouldn't be ruined by the sight of a naked yeti without its fur.

While walking toward the entrance, Olen glanced around at the design of the interior in the main hall, strolling his eyes at the aesthetic appearance of the hall. The walls looked like it was made of rotting trees, with the floorboards creaking as he walked on them. The freezing air occasionally slipped through the cracks from the splintered wood.

He saw Feimshall was freezing in the corner as the goblin fought to keep his blanket from him in a tug of war, trying to keep their body warm from the unforgiving cold.

“So that's why I'm so frigid when waking up!” Olen thought.

And right before the entrance, a round table stood prominently, its surface coated in a thick layer of snow that had seeped through the cracks in the wood. At the far end of the table, a fireplace was nestled into the wall, its bluish flames casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the room.

The inside of the halls is reminiscent of an old cabin, inviting guests to feel at home with its warm and serene atmosphere. The fire burning in the fireplace casts a cozy glow, casting the chill of the snow outside. Benches are placed in the corners and a small table sits by the window, adorned with a medieval candle that hangs from the wall, casting a soft bluish light that illuminates the entire room.

The space is large enough to comfortably accommodate ten people, with a separate room for six people, and even a balcony with two small chairs covered in snow. The overall design of the hall creates a sense of warmth and tranquility, making it the perfect place to escape the harsh winter weather.

As Olen ventured outside, he searched for Alfrick to inquire about the mysterious Yeti, knowing that there was no one else capable enough to accomplish such a gruesome task.

He stumbled upon the outskirts of the battlefield from the previous night, where he was met with a startling discovery. The trail of blood led him to the back of the Hall, but there was no sign of the Yeti's body. Instead, he found a shape of a dead goblin carved into the snow.

To his surprise, there was no sight of a body found in it, but a trail of blood that seemed to be dragged to the Town Hall. However, there was no single sign of a yeti being dragged from the shape on the surface of the snow, but instead, a shape of a dead goblin carved from the surface of the snow.

As Olen entered the Town Hall, he was met with a gruesome scene. The bodies of goblins were flung into the fireplace, where the bluish flames devoured the flesh as a whole. Olen couldn't believe his eyes as he saw the pile of ashes suddenly condensed into a crystal above Alfrick's palm. The crystal emitted a bluish energy that transfused itself into the other crystals, forming a network of energies with the [Rift Shard] as the central core.

"Alfrick, what’s this? why are you burning the goblins in the fireplace?" Olen asked in shock.

"Liege, this Fireplace seems strange, I seem to be able to hear strange sounds in my head once I flung the bodies of the goblin lying at the front of the [Town Hall]" Aflrick said with confusion in his eyes. "After that, I learned the [Dagger Proficiency] which displayed a screen notifying me the remaining essence that I have absorbed from the process after burning the body"

Olen's mind was overwhelmed with confusion and doubt as he stuttered, "Say what?"

cough

Shaking off the shock and embarrassment, Olen turned to Alfrick and said, "Do me a favor Alfrick, send your thoughts to the crystal in the middle of the fireplace and tell me what you see" pointing at the mini [Rift Shard] hovering above the bluish fire.

Alfrick leaned closer to the crystal, and to his surprise, a blue screen floated before the crystal, displaying a panel with his name on it and his abilities.

[Alfrick Longcloak]

Species: Human

Race: Nord

Talent: Astute, Increased Tenacity

Abilities:

Skills: [Bloody Slash]

"AHAHAHA" Olen let out a boisterous laughter, as he raised his hand in triumph and exclaimed in excitement at the sight of the system he had been eagerly awaiting appearing before him.

'Who said I'm the only one who can access the power of the shard?'

"Ahem… Alfrick, try envisioning Feimshall this time" Olen said while staring at Alfrick's seemingly reluctant expression to picture Feimshall in his thoughts.

Yeah…

After quite some time, Aflrick shook his head and said, "There’s nothing on it Liege" while looking down at the floor in shame.

Olen waved his hand in response. "There’s nothing to be ashamed of, it's not an order, I merely wished to test the limits of the crystal and see what it can do."

"And also, about that captive of ours, where is it?" Olen said, but suddenly something clicked in his mind and continued saying: "And that yeti, don’t tell me you carved it skin out of a blanket?” sternly staring at Alfrick voicing his disgust.

"About that Liege…"

Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed through the air, accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

‘Oh no, please don’t be a naked yeti, please don't be a naked yeti.’