[You have received four Omen Points!]
[Omen Points: 10 – Insufficient for rank upgrade.]
Adam skimmed the notifications while wiping sweat and blood from his face. It boosts proficiency when fighting creatures of the same kind over time… not bad, I guess.
“System, show me my stats.”
The interface appeared immediately. Adam ignored most of the unchanged data, focusing instead on the updated entries.
Inventory
- Cataclysm, Runed Blade of Delusions
- Fermo Crystal (89/89)
- Eyes of Pink-eyed Goblins (76/76)
- Slime Sac (89/89)
- Enchanted Amulet (1)
- Goblin Chief Specter (1)
- Hunch Sac (72/73)
- Familiar (1/50)
“This is quite the harvest,” he murmured, grinning.
Then his gaze fell on his rank: D/???
It hadn’t changed, not since the incident at Pyren’s Valley. His brows furrowed slightly. None of his skills had advanced beyond Level 0 either, and another one remained blurred out entirely.
“There’s no point worrying about things I can’t understand,” he muttered, rising to his feet.
A soft yawn escaped him as he surveyed the carpet of mangled corpses. “There’s nothing left to do here.”
He moved; his form blurred as he broke into motion. Within minutes, he reached the dungeon’s exit and stepped through the glowing portal without hesitation.
[You have left the dungeon!]
Howling winds brushed against his face as he read the notification.
With a thought, he summoned the Enchanted Amulet from his inventory and pressed its smooth surface. A shimmering holographic map unfolded before him.
He studied it briefly, brows knitting. “Am I even allowed to accept another mission immediately?”
The amulet vanished back into his inventory as he turned to glance around the ruin.
Where did those guild members go?
He crouched to inspect the dirt: no footprints, no lingering scent, nothing.
Straightening, Adam turned eastward. I should get going.
Manipulator activated, subtly reshaping his physical features. In the next heartbeat, Adam blurred again, vanishing into the horizon.
Targarth – Eastern Borderlands
To the east of Dratol lay Targarth, a nation layered in history and industry. With a population exceeding five million, it thrived on trade, mining, and fuel production. Monarchy governed the realm, dividing its territory into four great cities.
Its people lived orderly lives steeped in religion and custom, but their Awakened were weaker compared to their neighbors.
Across its lands, hundreds of guilds competed for dominance, yet three reigned supreme: Stormlight, Oleander, and SilverTop.
Oleander ruled from Celsa, far in the northern plains.
SilverTop made its home in Sandholt, the mining capital.
Stormlight presided over Gido, the heart of commerce and ambition.
Before Stormlight’s partnership with Varidan Academy, all three guilds shared roughly equal influence. But that alliance had changed everything. Stormlight’s prestige had since tripled; Awakened from across the nation now swarmed to Gido, praying that membership might one day bridge them to Varidan’s halls.
Adam scanned the amulet’s floating interface as he ran. The data was vast, each icon revealed details about cities, guilds, and even major figures.
I wonder if the information’s restricted by rank, he mused.
The thought passed quickly as he caught sight of a sprawling city ahead and pushed his speed further.
Gido – Stormlight Headquarters
In a lavishly furnished office overlooking the bustling streets, Haider yawned. His tired reflection shimmered faintly on the glass window.
Seven months had passed since Varidan Academy had reassigned him to Targarth. For all his title of Representative, a position equal to an Assistant Guild Leader, he’d rather remain in Varidan’s Registration Hall. Targarth was primitive by comparison.
“Fifty students sent,” he muttered. “And only one still hasn’t shown up.”
He leaned on the sill, watching a shady group weave through the crowds below before sighing and turning back to his desk.
“Student 009,” he said, plucking up a thin file. “No show. No update from Varidan. Since when did the Registration Hall become this sloppy?”
He flipped through the pages. “Goblin Lair, huh.”
With a dismissive sigh, he tossed it onto a growing pile. “Makes my job easier, I suppose.”
Running a hand through his dark curls, Haider smiled faintly at the ink portrait on his wall. “I wonder what Emilia’s having for lunch. The food here’s nothing compared to Varidan, but it’s decent.”
He grabbed his long black trench coat and left the office.
Gido’s Merchant Streets
Adam strode through the bustling avenue, every sense sharpened.
Vendors shouted over one another, hawking gleaming stones that sparkled like captured stars. Some shimmered with emerald light; others pulsed faintly with otherworldly glow. Children darted between stalls, and the hum of hidden machinery filled the air.
But Adam’s focus wasn’t on the spectacle; it was on the shadows behind the merchants. The system had been flashing danger warnings since he entered the street.
They must have hired tons of Awakened, he noted, eyeing the hidden watchmen cloaked in the shadows.
He reached the end of the street within minutes, stopping before a massive white fort. Its gates bore flags embroidered with the image of a raging storm, the unmistakable symbol of Stormlight.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
“Boy,” a voice rasped behind him.
Adam turned to see an old man watching him from a nearby bench.
“You don’t want to be caught loitering here,” the man warned. “Leave before they notice you.”
Adam’s expression didn’t change. “Thank you,” he said calmly, “but I have business with them.”
The words had barely left his mouth when a shout rang from behind. “Who the hell is this kid loitering around here?”
The old man flinched and hurried away without a second glance.
Adam turned, studying the approaching guard. He’s wearing a trench coat. Is he an Awakened too?
With no notification, he dismissed the thought. The man was no threat.
The guard’s face was tight, his eyes sharp with authority. But halfway toward Adam, he froze—as if he realized something he’d overlooked. His expression shifted instantly.
“I—I’m sorry,” the man stammered. “I didn’t know you were a student of Varidan. Please forgive me. It won’t happen again.”
Adam said nothing, brushing past him toward the building.
Inside, his gaze swept across the luxurious hall. Polished marble floors reflected the light of dazzling chandeliers. Artworks lined the gold-painted walls, and the air smelled faintly of lilac and sandalwood—clean, refined, and expensive.
Not bad.
He nodded to himself, taking in the decor. Dozens of eyes tracked him, but their probing stares quickly faltered once they noticed the Varidan’s unique uniform.
“Hey, over here!” a soft voice called. “You from Varidan?”
Adam turned toward a reception counter where a woman in a floral purple dress waved him over. Her smile was bright enough to warm a frozen heart, and her beauty carried the kind of effortless grace that didn’t need embellishment.
She’s beautiful—no, beyond beautiful.
In both his lives, Adam had met his share of beautiful people, but none like her. There was something innate, natural, and utterly disarming about it.
“Hello,” she greeted, her tone as warm as her smile. “I’m Emilia. You must be here to see the Varidan Representative, right?”
“Yes,” Adam replied. “Could you tell me where to find him?”
“His office is on the fourth floor, third door on your right. You can’t miss—”
“Thanks, Emilia. Have a good day.”
She blinked, surprised by his quick exit. Adam could tell she wanted to talk more, but he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Spotting the stairwell, he started toward it.
“Wait!” Emilia’s laughter rang behind him. “He’s not there right now. Mr. Haider left a few minutes ago—probably for lunch.”
Adam exhaled a quiet sigh, and her laughter only deepened.
“You can wait for him if you want,” she offered. “He shouldn’t take too long.”
“I really don’t have much of a choice.”
“I’ll let you know the moment he’s back.”
“Thank you.”
Her brown eyes lingered on him, curious and sparkling. He recognized that look instantly, it reminded him of Wallace. A talker.
“You’re so young,” Emilia said, leaning on the counter. “Already handling missions for Varidan… your family must be proud.”
Adam gave a faint smile. “You could say that.”
“So, where are you from? You don’t sound like someone from Dratol, or anywhere east of here.”
He sat on a nearby stool.
“Maybe the Northern Mountains?” she guessed brightly. “My cousin’s father-in-law’s nephew grew up there. You sound just like him.”
Adam caught a trace of her perfume—sweet like peaches, with a whisper of lavender.
“What dungeon were you assigned?” Emilia asked suddenly, tilting her head. “Celsa? Gido? Sandholt? Oh, please tell me it’s not Valar’s—”
“Emilia,” he interrupted smoothly, “when will he be back?”
“It’s only been twenty minutes,” she said, tapping her chin. “Give him another ten.”
Ten more minutes of this yap fest…
Then, without warning, she leaned in close, too close. Warm breath brushed against his ear.
[Ten Potential Sources of Danger Detected]
“If you want some advice,” she whispered, “ask Mr. Haider to send you to the Goblin’s Lair once you’re done. Outskirts of Gido. Trust me—you won’t regret it.”
She winked and pulled away.
“Thanks for the tip,” Adam said evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He could feel it then, the prickle of bloodlust from all directions. He didn’t need the system to tell him what it meant. Jealous eyes. He almost laughed.
“I’m glad to help,” Emilia giggled, twirling a strand of hair. She picked up right where she left off, chatting without pause, until her gaze shifted.
Adam followed her eyes to the door.
A tall man in a black trench coat strode inside, heading straight for the stairwell.
“Right on time,” Emilia said quietly. “That’s Mr. Haider.”
“Thanks, Emilia,” Adam replied, already moving. “Take care.”
He approached Haider with calm, steady steps.
The man stopped mid-stride, sensing him.
“Hello, sir,” Adam said. “I’m Adam. I’m here to report on—”
“I haven’t seen you around before.” Haider’s eyes narrowed. “Wait… you’re Student 009?”
Adam’s brow furrowed. He didn’t appreciate the tone, or the glare.
“Yes. I’m Student 009. I’m here to—”
“I know why you’re here.” Haider’s sneer was sharp. “You failed, didn’t you? And now you’re crawling back like the rest. If you’d shown up earlier, I could’ve told you how to clear that mission. But no—you had to be arrogant.”
He folded his arms, shaking his head. “Where are your party members?”
Adam didn’t answer. The man’s voice was loud enough for the entire hall to hear.
“Not talking, huh?” Haider smirked. “Fine. Go. Come back when you’ve actually completed something, assuming you’re still alive by then.”
He turned to leave, clearly pleased with himself.
“Who knew Varidan would send an asshole to a place like this,” Adam muttered.
Haider stopped. Slowly, he turned.
“What did you just call me?”
Haider’s words had barely settled before Adam tossed something across the room.
The man caught it on reflex. His eyes dropped to the object in his palm: a bone scepter, dark and faintly pulsing with an ominous light. His gaze flicked between it and Adam; disbelief etched across his face.
“That’s the Goblin Chief’s scepter.” Adam’s voice was calm. “I’ve completed my mission. I’d like to request another.”
The room fell silent.
Haider didn’t move. His widened eyes stayed fixed on the scepter, lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came. After a long pause, he swallowed and managed to steady his tone.
“How… how did you do it?”
“That’s none of your business,” Adam replied flatly. “Tell me if I can accept another mission or not. If not, open the portal. I’m not here to satisfy your curiosity.”
Haider’s expression hardened. “Follow me to my office. We’ll discuss this further there.”
Adam sat across from Haider in a medium-sized office lined with mission plaques and glowing maps. The man’s eyes kept darting between Adam and the scepter resting on his desk.
Adam ignored him, flipping through the mission files Haider had laid out. After a brief scan, he picked one and slid it across the table.
Haider frowned. “Are you sure about this one? It’s not like those goblins. It won’t be easy to—”
“Please prepare the portal. I’ve made my decision.”
Haider studied him a moment longer, then exhaled through his nose. Without another word, he retrieved a blue gemstone from his pocket and smashed it against the floor. A ripple of light spread outward, forming a colorless portal in the air.
“If you can complete this mission,” Haider said, his tone more formal now, “you’ll be eligible for a graduation assignment. You’ll need to return to Varidan Academy before proceeding. Good—”
“Are there any problems if I fail?”
Haider shook his head. “None. As long as you return alive. Varidan would rather have a student who failed than a dead one.”
Adam nodded once, rose from his seat, and without another word, stepped into the portal. It closed instantly, leaving the office quiet again.
Haider stood still for several seconds, staring at the empty space. Then his jaw tightened. “What an arrogant prick.”
He slammed his fist on the table. Papers scattered. His eyes dropped to the mission file Adam had chosen.
“The toughest mission in Targarth…” he muttered. “That brat doesn’t know what’s coming.”
He sank back into his chair, gathering the documents into a pile—just as the office door burst open.
“Haider! Where’s the student who was just here?”
Haider scowled. “Augustus, what’s gotten into you?”
The guild leader of Stormlight ignored him, scanning the room with sharp, searching eyes. A moment later, another man entered—Jonathan, breathless.
“Haider, forgive us. We’re looking for—”
“Let’s go, Jonathan,” Augustus cut in. “He’s not here.”
Haider’s frown deepened. “What’s the meaning of this? You barge into my office, demand answers, and now you’re leaving without a word?”
“It won’t happen again,” Augustus said curtly. “Handle your affairs, Haider.”
Without another glance, the two men exited.
Haider stood in silence, staring at the closed door. “What the hell was that about?”
Outside, in the long marble corridor, Augustus and Jonathan walked side by side.
“You’re certain that student cleared the dungeon alone?” Augustus asked, his deep voice low but heavy with unease. A full head taller than his companion, his brow was creased with tension.
“I can’t say I’m certain,” Jonathan admitted. “But he’s the most suspicious candidate.”
Augustus stroked his beard, eyes narrowing in thought. For a long moment, he said nothing.
Finally, he spoke. “Tell Emilia to come to my office. She’s the only one we can trust to get the truth from Haider.” His tone dropped lower. “And tell the others not to speak of this matter again.”
“I understand, brother.”
“Good. Let’s just hope SilverTop or Oleander doesn’t reach him first.”