Whoosh. Whoosh.
The wind howled as I stared, dumbfounded, at the endless blue sea. It stretched in every direction, a vast, rippling carpet of water that shimmered under the pale light. No land in sight. Just water. Miles and miles of water, as far as my eyes could see.
"…Sigh. I'm lost," I muttered, dead inside, my voice barely audible over the gusts.
I opened my system inventory and immediately felt a tiny flicker of hope. The familiar interface popped up like an old friend offering a comforting pat on the back. I smirked. "Good thing I brought a bunch of food with me. Can't explore the archipelago on an empty stomach."
Rows of neatly stacked food icons glowed in my inventory grid—dried meats, survival rations, and… ten suspiciously shiny apples. I didn't question it. Not now.
With a flick, I switched to the Gacha tab. My eyes locked onto the number like it was a treasure chest overflowing with gold:
50 tickets.
I rubbed my chin like a wise old sage, the kind who gives cryptic advice and dies dramatically in the third act. "Hmmm… tempting. But no. Not now."
I narrowed my eyes at the screen. "My luck's been garbage lately. If I roll now, I'll just get fifty duplicates of 'Common Stick.' Again."
The sting of that last pull still haunted me. A full ten-roll. Nothing but sticks. I swear, one of them had splinters.
I closed the Gacha tab with a dramatic sigh, dragging it shut like a heavy curtain. "Besides, I have hundreds of Skill Upgrade Cards just sitting here."
Rubbing my hands together like a cartoon villain before executing an overly complicated plan, I cackled. "Time to level up, baby."
I dove into my skill tree, fingers dancing across the interface like a pianist playing a crescendo. Ping. Ping. Ping. Each upgrade sparkled, each level-up sound more satisfying than the last.
"It's time to upgrade!" I shouted triumphantly—to no one. Absolutely no one.
After a few glorious minutes of power-tripping, I leaned back, satisfied. My stats looked like they belonged to someone who knew what they were doing. I was stronger. Smarter. Hungrier, for some reason.
And then… I felt it. That weird chill down my spine. The kind that says, Hey, you're about to regret everything you've ever done.
I glanced around. Fog. Out of nowhere.
Thick. Creepy. Definitely ominous. It coiled low across the water, slithering toward me like it had a personal vendetta.
"A dragon?" I whispered, hopefully.
"No. Definitely something else," I muttered, less hopefully.
I slipped into a combat stance, because obviously, fog means danger. That's just science. Basic science. Fog 101.
The fog kept creeping in, swallowing the horizon. One second I could see for miles. The next, I was in a soggy cloud of nope.
ALERT ALERT
• SYSTEM —
Host, you have entered a Secret Realm. Difficulty: Myth.
"What?!" I shouted.
"Calm down, host," the system droned. "Nothing will attack until you have arrived on land."
"Oh great. That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"Yes, host. That was my intention."
"You messing with me right now?"
"No, host. I am incapable of 'messing.' I do not possess a body."
"You fu—"
A few minutes later…
The thick fog slowly began to fade, curling away in wisps like smoke dissolving into the sky. Bit by bit, the world beyond the mist started to reveal itself. A silhouette appeared on the horizon, firm and unmoving. My breath caught in my throat.
"Finally," I whispered, almost disbelieving, as my eyes locked onto the distant stretch of land ahead. I leaned forward instinctively, as if the sight alone could pull me closer.
Without hesitation, the moment the boat scraped against the shore, I leapt off, the soles of my boots sinking into the damp earth. My legs trembled slightly—not from fear, but from a strange mix of relief and anticipation. Solid ground. A new place. A new challenge.
Then the system's voice echoed in my mind, cold and mechanical.
System: Host, this realm is extremely difficult. Your current strength is insufficient. Even after maximizing all potential upgrades, your estimated chance of survival remains at a mere one percent.
I froze. My heart pounded harder against my ribs.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, fists clenching.
I took a deep breath and looked around at the unfamiliar terrain. "How do I leave this place?" I asked, my voice low and tense.
System: To exit this realm, you must defeat the strongest beast that inhabits it. Only then will you be granted the Ring of Passage.
A chill ran down my spine. "Where do I find him?" I asked, not sure if I truly wanted the answer.
System: Host, I strongly recommend against it. You are currently far too weak. The creature you must defeat is an evolved species—one that has already surpassed the natural boundaries of its existence. It has reached the absolute limit of its power.
I frowned. "What exactly is an evolved species?" I asked, even though part of me dreaded the explanation.
System: An evolved species is a being that has pushed beyond its original design. It has broken free of all natural constraints and ascended into a higher state of being—faster, stronger, and vastly more dangerous than anything you've encountered before.
My throat went dry. I paused, staring off into the trees ahead. "How strong is it?" I asked uncertainly, the words barely leaving my mouth.
System: Even if there were ten thousand versions of you—at your current level—you would not be able to make it bleed.
"…Fuck."
I stood there, stunned, the weight of the task sinking in like lead. As I tried to process the hopeless odds, a low growl suddenly cut through the air. My instincts flared. I spun around instantly, heart hammering.
"A wolf…" I breathed, narrowing my eyes.
But as it stepped out of the trees, my breath caught. My eyes widened in disbelief.
It wasn't just a wolf.
It was enormous—easily taller than me at the shoulder, its eyes gleaming with feral intelligence. Its presence radiated power, and something else… something ancient.
Its fur shimmered, almost metallic, strands of silver rippling as it moved. Every step was silent, like it had mastered the art of walking without sound. Its breath misted in the air, not from the cold, but from something deeper—something magical.
System: Warning. Detected presence: "Moon-Touched Direwolf, Variant Alpha." Threat Level: Catastrophic.
"Why do you even bother with levels anymore?" I snapped, backing away slowly.
The wolf tilted its head. For a split second, I could've sworn it smirked.
I tightened my grip on my sword—not that it would do anything. My blade, freshly upgraded and enchanted, still felt like a toy compared to the monster in front of me.
Then the wolf spoke.
Yes. Spoke.
Its voice wasn't sound. It was pressure, thoughts sliding into my brain like ice water.
You are not ready, little flame. Turn back.
I blinked. "You can talk?"
The wolf's eyes narrowed.
I have consumed languages older than your bones. Leave, while your soul still belongs to you.
The ground beneath me felt suddenly unstable, like the very earth was considering whether or not to keep supporting me.
"…I don't suppose we could negotiate?" I tried, hoping maybe evolved beings liked diplomacy.
No.
Of course not.
The wolf took a step forward. My system pinged again.
System: Host, automatic defense protocols engaged. Calculating emergency escape route… error. No viable path found.
I was about to panic. Actually, no—I was already panicking. I was about to do it louder.
Then the wolf stopped. Its gaze flicked past me.
Something worse comes.
"…Worse than you?" I asked, voice cracking.
Yes. Run.
It vanished. Just blinked out of sight like it had never been there.
I didn't need another warning. I turned and sprinted into the woods. Twigs snapped underfoot. Branches clawed at my arms. The wind screamed through the trees, and something deep in the forest screamed back.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I heard the system whisper:
System: Welcome to the Trial of the Mythborn.