The boy started to dream about the past again. Tears welled up in his eyes while asleep. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the familiar ruins of his village. The air was thick with an unsettling silence, broken only by the distant echoes of loud battles. He walked through the scorched remnants of what was once his home, each step he took made him feel his bare feet burning at the sharp stones beneath them. As he moved, figures emerged from the shadows, the faces of his loved ones and friends. Their eyes bore into him with accusing gazes, their lips parting in silent screams. The air became charged with a sense of loss and despair, as if the accident was his fault. All of the people in front of him had huge bloody scars made by the angel. The nightmarish tableau unfolded, and Koslo’s mother appeared before him, her stern gaze filled with a mix of disappointment and sorrow. “Look what your existence caused. Why were you even born?” her voice echoed through the dream, cutting through the ghostly silence. The weight of guilt settled on his shoulders, pressing down with an unbearable force. He stumbled forward, compelled to retrace the steps of that terrifying night. The air grew colder as he approached the great hall, and the haunting melody of a long-forgotten celebration played in the background, a cruel mockery of happier times. The dream twisted and replicated reality, as the monstrous being that had razed his village materialized before him. Its wings unfurled, casting grotesque shadows that danced across the ruined walls. The creature’s voice, echoed through the dream, taunting him with every step. “You will never be strong enough to defeat us, just give up.” Suddenly, the dream plunged into a maelstrom of chaos. The once-lifeless bodies of his kin stirred, rising from the ashes to accuse him. Their eyes, once filled with warmth, now glowed with an intensity, reflecting the pain and betrayal Koslo felt deep within. They started shouting things such as “Why can’t you die like us!” “Koslo you ran away with our belongings, you’re useless!” In the heart of the nightmare, he reached his father’s lifeless form. The wounds on his body oozed with an ethereal darkness, and his voice, a mere whisper, carried a haunting lament. “You should have protected us, Koslo. You failed to do your only purpose. Weren’t you a so-called guardian? You despise me, son, leave” his father’s spectral figure murmured, the words etching themselves into the fabric of the dream. As the dream tightened its grip, Koslo felt a surge of helplessness, unable to alter the course of events. The dreamworld became a distorted tapestry of sorrow, replaying the trauma in vivid detail. The scent of burning wood, the anguished cries, and the piercing cold of that tragic night all enveloped him, trapping him in a nightmarish loop. And then, just as the dream threatened to consume him entirely, Koslo awoke, drenched in a cold sweat. The echoes of the dream lingered in the recesses of his mind, a cruel reminder of the wounds that refused to heal. Koslo got up and decided it would be best if he started the day by searching for a stronger opponent than the wolves. In the grip of relentless nightmares, Koslo found his dreams taking a turn, the boundary between the subconscious and reality blurring. When he woke up he could feel the pain of the sharp stones that were beneath his feet in the dream. With heavy breaths Koslo tried to calm down. He had gotten used to nightmares but they weren’t this vivid before. The boy realized that he’d probably live his entire life taunted by his traumas. He decided to hunt down a monster called the Orc King after planning out his journey. Stories from the adventurer he met before lingered in his mind. The man had said that there were promising rewards for those who could present the Orc King’s head to any city. With blood on his mind, Koslo spread his wings, poised to depart on his quest. However, a distant plume of smoke on the horizon caught his attention. Curiosity led him towards it, convincing him to explore before going into his original mission. The Orc King, he thought, would not vanish in the span of his absence. Taking flight, it took nearly half an hour for him to reach the source of the mysterious smoke. Koslo was a strategic observer, he had realized the advantage of assessing the situation before charging recklessly. The smoke led to a camp of tents, it had over three hundred inhabitants. From his viewing point high in a spruce tree, Koslo saw that the camp was filled with well-equipped human soldiers. He wanted to talk with them, yet he hesitated. They would all see him as a monster having those wings. Koslo turned to his magical skills, opening the Book of 777 Spells. He started chanting the tier-one spell “camouflage,” the effect was that people wouldn’t notice his real appearance as long as he had a higher intelligence stat then them. He boosted his already high intelligence with the swords and a pendant he had stolen from a bandit. The total boosted it by over 30. Koslo approached the entrance and was met by a guard. The encounter required a quick-witted response. “My name is Koslo, and I own these mountains. As you have entered my territory, I would like to speak to your leader,” he said. Koslo wasn’t lying when he said that. The guard, not even questioning him, allowed his entry. Guided by spears aimed at his throat, Koslo reached the largest tent. Inside, a dark room met him, featuring a large round table with a map on it. Four individuals, three well-equipped men and a young woman who seemed to be a magician, sat in discussion. Their dialogue stopped upon noticing Koslo’s entrance. “Who is he?” one of the four asked. The guard who had brought him here was about to say it, but Koslo interrupted him: “I’m Koslo, the owner of these mountains.” He did this because he felt like it was better to introduce himself instead of some guard doing it for him. The man started talking again: “I see, you must be wondering why we are in your territory without permission.” Koslo nodded. “Let me be direct with you, there’s been a dungeon alert here, so we came to take care of it under the order of the king. It has been classified as a B+ dungeon, so they asked us to go take a look. Now that I look at you, you seem to have awakened a few days ago, right?” Once again, Koslo nodded. “Nice,” the man said, “you seem to be a talented person, looking at your aura. What about joining us? This will be a good experience for you, young lord.” Seeing an opportunity to grow stronger, Koslo accepted. The leader, laughter echoing, said formal introductions would wait until later, instructing Koslo to rest for their departure the next morning. The once-hostile guards guided him to a small tent, apologizing for their earlier behavior. With a lot of energy to spare, Koslo scouted the woods around the camp. Killing weak monsters known as burning bears. He continued hunting trying to level-up. They were around the same level as the tempest wolves. The boy had already killed over ten of the bears when a red screen appeared: “There’s a rank C mutated beast nearby.” Intrigued, Koslo abandoned his camouflage and ascended into the sky with his black wings. The formidable creature was easy to spot —a huge bear made of magma. Without hesitation, Koslo charged, ready to face this formidable foe. In his eyes the bear was like a pinata filled with exp, ready to be claimed by him. Its colossal form, towered over the trees, emitting waves of blistering heat that curled and danced ominously through the dense leaves. The very air seemed to shimmer with the intensity of the creature’s molten essence. Determined and focused, Koslo drew forth his father’s treasured weapon, “The Frozen Trophy.” The icy blade emitted an ethereal glow. With a swift unfurling of his wings, Koslo rode the updrafts of searing heat, ascending into the air. The impending clash between fire and ice hung intensely in the forest’s atmosphere. The Magma Bear responded with a resounding roar as it noticed its opponent, a primal echo that reverberated through the ancient spruce trees. Agile in his aerial maneuvers, Koslo avoided the creature’s fiery swipes. The Frozen Trophy carved through the air, leaving trails of frost particles that tamed the surrounding inferno. In retaliation, the bear unleashed balls of molten fury, forcing Koslo to engage in a mesmerizing dance through the attacks. The forest itself seemed to join the fight, the towering trees casting long shadows that played tricks on Koslo’s perception. Mindful not to reach for his mother’s fire-imbued sword. The sword would do close to nothing in this situation. Koslo wielded the frozen sword with a mastery that befitted his ancestors. The Magma Bear, a monster of burning magma and fury, swung its massive claws with relentless force. Koslo, dodged it perfectly, each movement a calculated dance between danger and evasion. The ground beneath them sizzled as molten droplets dripped onto the forest floor, leaving scorched imprints where they landed. Seizing a moment of vulnerability, Koslo descended with a powerful dive, directing the Frozen Trophy towards the creature’s molten head. The icy blade met resistance, the bear’s molten hide was very thick. Yet, fueled by adrenaline, Koslo pressed on, the clash between the icy magic of the sword and the searing heat creating a mesmerizing spectacle that painted the forest in an artwork of contrasting elements. When Koslo thought he had achieved his victory by chopping off the beast’s head, it regrew after less than ten seconds. Koslo realized that he’d need to pierce its heart before being able to receive his exp. The battle raged on, a relentless exchange of blows between the elemental forces. The Magma Bear. It summoned more molten projectiles that shot through the air like flaming arrows. Koslo, who was already used to his wings, weaved through the flaming onslaught, his movements carrying him with grace and precision. Finally, after a prolonged struggle, the Frozen Trophy found its mark, piercing the creature’s molten heart. The forest seemed to exhale in collective relief as the Magma Bear crumbled, its molten essence solidifying into a monumental beam of light amidst the overshadowed surroundings. Koslo hovered above, a triumphant guardian, the Frozen Trophy still glowing with the remnants of its icy aura against the fiery foe. As the once-menacing heat dissipated, the forest stood silent. A blue window appeared as he had expected: “+25 exp gained, Typhon’s sword aura leveled up (E- to E)” it said. Koslo decided to look at his status. ___________________________________________________ Name: Koslo Level: 4 (12/40 exp) Race: Gods’ Leviathan (first stage) Job: Last Guardian Age: 16 Stats: Str 88 (S) Int 86 (S) Dex 60 (B+) Typhon 1 (X) Skills: Identify (EX), Typhon’s punishment (S), Typhon’s domain (A+), Typhon’s sword aura (E), Typhon’s fear (A-), Divine-revenge (S), Shadow’s sword dance (A), Shadow’s step (D), Sword proficiency (B-), Night vision (D), Survival (C+) Status: confused, awakened ___________________________________________________ Koslo eagerly attempted to invest his points in the Typhon stat, hoping to learn more about it. However, the system didn’t allow it, giving him a new screen: “Stat will only rise when the user levels up ten levels.” While his frustration came up, Koslo decided to distribute his stat points evenly among the three available options. With the sun sinking on the horizon, casting an amber glow over the landscape, Koslo made his way back to camp. He arrived just in time for his meal. To his disbelief, the portion he received looked far from edible. As he was about to voice his concerns, a neighboring soldier signaled him to stay silent. There seemed to have experienced the consequences. Koslo, with a bowl of something far from eatable in hand, approached the big campfire, where soldiers gathered to eat. It looked like every soldier near him shared his thoughts on the food. Amid Koslo’s meal, a robust man approached him. “Can I join you while you’re eating, young lord,” the man said. Koslo was aware of the watching eyes, and responded, company at moments like these were welcome, “Of course sir, but may I ask who you are? It’s just to know how I should address you” The man looked at him. He thought it was a challenge to his authority but after seeing Koslo’s face he realized he was wrong. “You must’ve forgotten who I am. My name is Valdrix and I’m the second in command.” Now Koslo remembered, he was one of the four people inside of the tent.“My apologies for not knowing sir.” “Oh,” the man said with a surprised smile on his face, “it seems like you know your manners young man, that’s a rare thing for people of a status like you.” Koslo didn’t know what he was indicating to, so he asked about it: “Sir, may I ask what you mean by my status?” The people around them started smirking. “You’re a funny guy. You know people can see if you’re a noble by looking at your display status, right?” Koslo told him that no one had told him anything about it before. Valdrix couldn’t hide that he was surprised. “It seems that you really don’t know what it is so let me explain. You have a private status that gives you an overview of your skills and stats. There’s one more status screen called the display. It reflects your origins and noble status. For instance, mine says “lieutenant” while yours says “Heir Of XXX”.” Again Koslo looked at him with a face that told him he still didn’t what that meant “It looks like you’ve lived isolated from the outside world so I’ll give you the basics of noble rankings. You start with the most powerful position, the royal faction of the king. He controls the entire country with his family. There are three princes and two princesses at the moment. Below them, you have the four royal houses each representing a power faction. All of them specialize in a different field. The house of the Phoenix with magic, the Dragon with swordsmanship, the Griffin with taming, and the Serpent with martial arts. Then you have the three associations: the magic tower, the guild, and the merchant’s palace. At last, you have the city lords and other small factions. We can’t see which heir you are because it’s automatically set to private, but if you want to see it just think of the word “display”. After that it should open up.” Curiosity led Koslo to think about the keyword, and a blue screen materialized once again, Koslo read it out loud: “Title: Heir Of The sword.” Koslo already had an idea what the title meant but wasn’t sure. The things he said triggered a lot of reaction as soldiers erupted in disbelief, forming a curious and animated crowd around the boy. “Did he say heir of The Sword?” “Is that even possible?”. People all started screaming until Valdrix shouted: “Silence!” Everyone became quiet after mere seconds. The man continued, “Koslo could you please press your title and set it to public.” Koslo was still curious about it so he did as Valdrix asked. He announced that he had finished and waited for a reaction. Ten seconds it took the others to see it. Ten seconds of pure silence and anticipation. The moment it was visible people started shouting things amongst themselves again and Valdrix took him by his arm. “Follow me, I’ll explain it to you somewhere safer.” he had said. They headed towards the big tent again at a quick pace, people started following them trying to get Koslo’s attention. At last they reached it and Valdrix closed the door behind him. “Koslo, we have a big problem.” he said with a serious expression on his face.

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