Power changes a person.
It doesn't ask permission. It doesn't knock politely at your door.
It enters like a storm.
And once it's there, everything about you shifts—how people look at you, how they speak to you, how they fear you.
And worst of all… how you start to look at yourself.
---
After the Guild branded me "The Unmarked Mage," everything in Arinvale tilted.
I was hunted.
Every alley could be a trap. Every smiling face, a mask. The bounty wasn't just money—it was blood ink scrawled across the city. The kind of ink that summoned killers.
So I stopped hiding.
Instead, I started grinding.
---
Deep beneath the slums, beyond the sewers, was a place even the Guild had abandoned—The Hollow Grid.
It was a cavernous labyrinth of collapsed dungeons and corrupted mana vents. The air buzzed with static. Magic here didn't behave—it pulsed.
Only the desperate and the damned ventured below.
So I did.
---
I killed my first Wretchhound before it saw me.
Veilstep.
Strike.
Arcane Pulse.
Its head exploded like wet bark.
The system chimed.
> [+22 EXP | +1 Mana Crystal Shard]
[Shadow Affinity: 6%]
That was just the beginning.
---
For the next week, I lived in the dark.
Fought in it.
Slept in it.
I learned to track mana trails by heat. To sense motion in dead air. To kill before the system even announced the enemy.
I crafted makeshift armor from scavenged beast-hide and enchanted it with crude runes Lira taught me. My leather pauldron bore a stitched sigil—a symbol I didn't recognize, one that appeared after I survived my first shadow surge.
Sometimes, I'd wake from trance-meditation and find new symbols scratched into the walls around me. Not by my hand. Something else.
Watching.
Learning.
Writing.
---
I leveled. Fast.
> Level 5. Then 6. Then 7.
New skill unlocked: [Shadow Grasp – Lv. 1]
Pulls a target within 5 meters into shadow binding. Disorients for 2 seconds. Can chain into Veilstep or Arcane Pulse.
The first time I used it on a Mire Troll, its twisted body collapsed as tendrils erupted from beneath its feet. Its screams echoed for miles.
I didn't feel guilty.
I felt alive.
---
But the Hollow Grid was more than monsters.
I met others—reborn like me.
Most were half-mad. Broken. Some begged to be killed. Others attacked on sight.
I spared three.
Killed five.
One of them—Juno—survived long enough to speak.
"You're different," she rasped through blood. "It chose you…"
"What chose me?" I asked.
"The glitch… the root."
She died before I got an answer.
---
I emerged from the Grid after eight days.
Not because I was finished.
But because the system sent me a message:
> [New Threat Detected: Marked Rival – Kael]
[Tracking… 800m and closing.]
Kael was coming.
And he wasn't coming to spar this time.
---
I found him in the ruins of a collapsed bell tower, shirtless and bleeding, blades already drawn.
He smiled like he'd missed me.
"You've been busy," he said, circling.
"So have you," I replied.
"You've killed thirteen Guild dogs."
"You make it sound like a crime."
"They made it one."
Then he moved.
Faster than before. Sharper. Like his body had leveled with mine.
We clashed.
---
The duel was brutal.
Veilstep versus blink-dash.
Shadow Grasp versus twin blade flow.
I grazed his ribs.
He nicked my jaw.
We bled and laughed and cursed and leveled mid-combat.
Then we collapsed, backs against opposite walls, panting.
He tossed me a health vial. I caught it.
"Still not enemies," he said.
"No," I muttered. "Still rivals."
He nodded.
"But next time," he added, "I'm not holding back."
I smirked. "Good. I'm done playing safe."
---
That night, as the city slept, I stood atop a broken monument with Lira beside me.
She said nothing for a while, just watched the torches in the noble towers flicker like tiny flames in the fog.
"They're scared of you," she whispered.
"They should be."
"You're grinding faster than I thought possible."
"It's the system."
"No," she said. "It's you. The system just followed your lead."
I turned to her. "What happens if I keep going?"
Lira met my gaze.
"Then the world won't be able to contain you."