Stranger.

A faint chime echoed in Rael's mind as the system interface flickered to life before him. Though its message was brief, the implications carried weight.

[System contract attained.]

The notification vanished as swiftly as it appeared.

"Yo! Mind if I get a quick interview?"

Rael turned toward the voice. Among the spectators, a player stepped forward, accompanied by a small hovering orb that buzzed softly at shoulder height. Its lens blinked red—active and recording. Though Rael couldn't see the chat, invisible to everyone but the streamer, he could sense the attention.

"Not much to say," Rael replied coolly.

The streamer grinned. "C'mon, man. You just wrecked the Dominators' top player with two moves. My chat's going nuts over you right now." He extended a hand. "Name's Kaiden. Mind if I ask a few questions for the viewers?"

Rael hesitated for a beat, then gave a slight nod. "Go ahead."

Kaiden brightened. "Alright, chat! You heard him! Interview time with today's MVP." He shifted slightly, ensuring the orb captured both of them. "So, first off—what's your name in-game?"

"Noctus."

"Yo, chat, you catching this? Noctus, the guy who just clapped Dominators' leader with one hit. So, uh... that dodge move—what was that? Blink? Or some advanced Fighter skill?"

Rael's expression remained neutral. "Trade secret."

"Fair, fair. Still, gotta say—you didn't exactly break a sweat out there. How'd you pull that off so fast? Reflexes? Strategy?"

"Both."

"Man of few words, huh? Alright, next question—are you a solo player, or do you roll with a guild?"

"Eclipse," Rael answered simply.

The orb's lens pulsed slightly as if zooming in. Meanwhile, Kaiden's stream chat flared to life:

"WAIT—Eclipse??"

"No shot—that's the guild that's been making waves in Vash'kar lately!"

"Hold up, hold up—'Noctus'… that name sounds familiar…"

"BRO—HE'S AUREUS!"

"AUREUS?? Noctus = Aureus??? THE PRO GAMER?!"

Kaiden blinked as the rapid scroll of chat messages flooded his screen. His gaze flicked slightly off-camera as he processed the reactions. "Uh... Noctus—you wouldn't happen to be that Aureus, would you?"

Rael's stance didn't shift, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "What if I am?"

"CONFIRMED LET'S GOOOOO"

"The legend's back!"

"So Noctus is really making moves now, huh? Guess it won't be long before Eclipse starts aiming higher than just Vash'kar."

"Wait—wasn't he retired?"

"Bro went from esports to speedrunning PvP in Ascent."

Kaiden grinned wider than before. "Man, chat's blowing up right now. So you're Aureus, huh? Guess that explains the reflexes. Mind sharing why you switched to Ascent?"

Rael's lips curled slightly. "Seemed like the right challenge."

"BRO SAID CHALLENGE LIKE HE DIDN'T JUST ONE-SHOT A PLAYER"

"He's farming guild leaders like they're daily quests "

Kaiden chuckled at the chat's reactions. "Alright, one last question before I let you go—what's next for you? More duels? Or are you planning to shake things up here in Vash'kar?"

Rael considered his answer for a moment before replying, "You'll see soon enough."

"Vash'kar about to get real spicy"

"Eclipse rise UP"

"Dude thinks he's him "

"Bro won a duel and thinks he owns the city lol"

"Watch him disappear again like four years ago "

"Someone's gotta humble this guy fr"

"Eclipse's 15 minutes of fame about to expire"

"Welp, you heard the man, folks! Big things coming from Eclipse's very own guild leader Noctus—aka Aureus. Thanks for the interview, man."

With a faint nod, Rael stepped away, leaving Kaiden to wrap up his stream as the orb hovered beside him. Though Rael couldn't see the chat, he could still feel the attention lingering behind him. Exactly as planned.

* * *

The streets of Vash'kar buzzed with the hum of daily life—vendors hawking wares, adventurers exchanging tales, and guild banners fluttering from storefronts. Amid the crowds, Rael moved with a calm, steady pace. A few players glanced his way, some nudging their companions with hushed whispers. Recognition was spreading.

He ignored the stares, focusing instead on the floating interface before him. The forums were ablaze with discussions—threads dissecting his interview and the duels that followed.

"Noctus vs. Dominators—Instant KO! Was it skill or a lucky crit?"

"Dude barely moved, and the fight was over. Seriously, what's his build?"

"Wait, is this the Aureus? Pro gamer turned PvPer?"

Rael's gaze skimmed through the posts. Even after four years away from the competitive scene, his name still carried weight. Fame didn't matter to him, but its effects did. Each victory sent ripples through Vash'kar's player base, drawing attention from those seeking to prove themselves—or take him down for clout. Some threads had even begun speculating on his motives.

"He's not just PvPing for fun. Notice how he only accepts guild leaders or high-ranking members?"

"Think about it—system contracts are binding. If he keeps winning, Eclipse could lock down half the guilds in Vash'kar."

"Nah, he's just flexing because he's back. Classic Aureus move."

Rael's lips quirked into a faint smirk. Some of them are starting to catch on.

The conflicts between guilds were inevitable. As power consolidated and ambitions clashed, open skirmishes would become routine. The system's contracts offered leverage beyond brute force—a guarantee that even victory came with a cost for those who defied him. Each contract secured now would tilt the odds in Eclipse's favor when the time came to stake their claim in Vash'kar.

But to get more contracts, he needed challengers. And for challengers to step forward, they needed provocation.

Let them think I'm arrogant. The more they want to knock me down, the easier it'll be to draw them in.

Rael swiped the interface aside, his footsteps echoing against stone as he approached the city's arena. After the interview three days ago, challengers had come in droves. Yet Rael had only accepted four duels—three from guilds and one from a lone player named Failsafe.

His thoughts drifted back to that fight.

The crowd had grown by the time the duel commenced, forming a loose ring around the combatants in the arena's outer courtyard. Failsafe crouched low, daggers gleaming in each hand as he circled Rael with quick, predatory movements.

"I've studied tons of PvP videos, y'know," he taunted. "I know how Fighters and Rogues move—you won't catch me off guard with some fancy dash."

Rael said nothing, standing with one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

Failsafe lunged first, vanishing into a blur of speed as he activated Shadowstep, reappearing at Rael's flank. His daggers slashed through the air—only to carve through empty space as Rael disappeared, reappearing just outside the attack's range.

"What the—?!"

Rael moved the moment he materialized, dashing forward with fluid precision as dark energy coalesced along his blade. Failsafe had barely turned to face him when Ruinous Strike connected squarely against his chest. The impact sent him tumbling across the courtyard, his HP bar plummeting to a single digit before he even hit the ground.

Silence.

Then, muffled laughter rippled through the crowd.

Failsafe groaned, propping himself up on one elbow as the three girls exchanged glances. One of them raised her hand in a small wave. "Welp, nice try. Later!"

"See ya~"

"Better luck next time!"

Failsafe's shoulders slumped as they walked off without a backward glance. His gaze lingered on their retreating figures, disappointment clear in his eyes. He'd only taken the duel to impress them—players he'd met in-game a few days ago. Flashy moves and quick wins might've earned him some admiration, but instead, all he'd managed was a quick defeat and a bruised ego.

Rael approached, offering a hand to help the defeated player up. "Good effort," he said calmly, though there was no trace of mockery in his voice.

Failsafe let out a heavy sigh, grasping Rael's hand and pulling himself upright. "Yeah... guess it's time to hand over the totem now."

The reason Rael had accepted this duel was simple—the totem. It wasn't powerful enough to tip the scales in a large-scale battle, but for a growing guild like Eclipse, it was a solid asset. When placed on the battlefield, it provided a steady area-of-effect regeneration buff for both health and stamina—just enough to give his guild an edge during prolonged skirmishes.

Now, standing once more at the entrance of the arena, Rael's eyes scanned the crowd with quiet expectation. The subtle stirrings of anticipation hinted that another challenger was already waiting.

The murmur of the crowd swelled as a figure emerged from their midst. Draped in a dark hooded cloak, the player moved with a slow, deliberate stride. His face was obscured by an oni mask carved into a visage of desolation—hollow eyes, sharp fangs, and furrowed brows etched with sorrow. Despite the still air, the faintest wisp of shadow seemed to cling to his form.

Whispers rippled through the spectators.

"Another one? Guess this guy wants his fifteen seconds of fame."

"Pff, probably another lowbie trying to get lucky."

"Yeah, but you gotta admit—that mask is sick. Bet it's high-tier gear."

"What class do you think he is? Rogue? Maybe some kind of Dark Knight?"

Rael studied the stranger in silence. Even without inspecting, he could tell the mask wasn't ordinary—high-quality craftsmanship and subtle magical resonance hinted at valuable equipment. Yet gear alone meant nothing without skill to back it up.

The masked player halted several paces away. His voice, slightly distorted by the mask's design, cut through the low hum of conversation.

"I'm here to challenge you."

Rael crossed his arms loosely. "I only accept fights from guilds—for contracts."

"I don't have a contract to wager," the stranger replied. Without further preamble, he reached into his inventory and withdrew a weapon—a long, black-hafted scythe with a gleaming silver blade tinged with faint violet veins. The air seemed to grow heavier as the weapon's presence seeped into the surroundings. With a single motion, he drove the scythe's butt into the ground, where it stood upright without support.

Ding!

A ripple of energy spread as the system allowed the nearby players to inspect the item. Dozens of eyes widened as panels appeared in their vision.

[Hollow Requiem] (Low-Grade Epic)

Type: Scythe (Two-Handed)

Attribute Bonus: +15 Strength, +10 Dexterity, +10 Intelligence

Special Effect – Desolation: Each time the wielder slays a player, the weapon's attacks permanently ignore 0.5% of the target's armor. (Stacks up to 100 times)

The crowd's murmurs swelled into a buzz of excitement as the scythe's details appeared before their eyes.

"Low-tier epic?!" someone shouted, disbelief clear in their voice.

"He's betting that? Why not just use it himself?"

"Maybe it doesn't fit his build," another guessed, eyes glued to the weapon.

"Still… that Desolation effect is broken. With enough kills, it could tear through tanks like butter."

"Yeah, but what's the point if he's about to lose it?" a nearby player chuckled, earning scattered laughs.

Despite the skepticism, many couldn't tear their eyes away from the gleaming black weapon buried in the ground, its faint violet etchings resembling withered veins.

Rael's eyes lingered on the scythe for a moment longer than necessary. He's not even using it, he noted, though it didn't matter. Whether for sale, trade, or leverage, the weapon was worth far more than any standard wager.

After a moment of consideration, Rael stepped forward. "Accepted."

The referee raised a hand, his voice slicing through the murmurs of the crowd. "Combatants, step forward."

Rael crossed the threshold of the arena, boots grinding against the packed dirt as he approached the center. Opposite him, the masked stranger moved without a sound, cloak trailing behind him. His oni mask, carved into a solemn visage of desolation, tilted slightly downward, obscuring any hint of expression beneath its lacquered surface. The faint gleam of the horned visage caught the light, its mournful contours adding an eerie stillness to the air.

The referee scanned them both, his gaze lingering on the scythe still embedded in the ground beside the stranger. "Ready?"

Rael adjusted his grip on his sword. His nod was small, but certain.

The stranger tilted his head slightly, then dipped it in a slow, deliberate nod.

"Begin!"

For a moment, neither moved.

The crowd shifted restlessly, murmurs rising as the two fighters remained motionless. It wasn't hesitation—it was calculation. A silent standoff where the first move could decide the entire fight.

Rael's gaze stayed locked on the stranger's hands—still hidden beneath the folds of his cloak. Without a weapon drawn, there were no tells, no muscle shifts to predict a strike. The faint rustle of fabric was the only sound he gave.

Rael took a measured step forward, raising his sword with an almost casual motion. A simple horizontal slash—light, testing.

The stranger shifted. No sharp recoil or clumsy stumble—just a fluid sway of his body that let the blade pass inches from his chest. Cloak trailing behind him, he pivoted on his heel with the grace of someone who understood the economy of movement.

Rael's eyes narrowed slightly as he followed with another slash. The stranger stepped aside again, this time with a subtle twist of his shoulders that carried him just out of reach.

They moved without speaking. Each of Rael's swings was methodical—neither rushed nor reckless—while the stranger evaded with precise, minimal adjustments. Their steps wove faint patterns into the arena's dirt, faint trails overlapping as they circled each other.

The air shifted—

Silver glinted as the stranger's hands emerged from beneath his cloak, each gripping a dagger of curved iron. The blades bore a dull, weathered sheen, but their craftsmanship was undeniable. Carvings etched along the steel seemed to pulse faintly beneath the arena's light, and the hilts—fashioned from miniature skulls—gleamed with blood-red eyes that seemed to flicker with life.

Epic-tier.

Rael's breath slowed.

The stranger moved.

The first slash came low—aimed for Rael's thigh—followed instantly by a second aimed high toward his shoulder. The sudden aggression forced Rael to twist his sword to intercept both strikes in quick succession. Sparks flared as steel clashed against steel.

Another strike—faster this time—forced him back a step. Then another. The stranger's movements blurred together—one instant lunging like a beast, the next twisting midair with a dancer's grace.

Rael pivoted sharply to the side, but the stranger followed without pause, daggers flashing toward his chest.

Soulstep.

The world blurred for half a heartbeat—

Rael reappeared several paces away, landing lightly as if he had never moved. The faint ripple of displaced air marked where he'd stood moments before.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"Teleportation?"

"Must be a Fighter skill—maybe a subclass?"

"Doesn't look like a mage…"

Rael's pulse remained steady, but his thoughts sharpened as his eyes flicked to the daggers. Even from this distance, he could feel their presence—subtle, yet undeniable. They didn't simply gleam with magic—they seemed to pull at the air itself, as though each swing carved through more than just flesh.

The stranger shifted his stance, crouching slightly as though preparing to strike again.

He's not waiting for me to adjust.

Rael raised his sword, bracing himself—

The stranger vanished.

His cloak whipped through the air as he lunged low, daggers flashing in twin arcs. Rael stepped back just in time to avoid both slashes, boots skidding slightly against the dirt as he parried the follow-up strike. The impact jarred his arms, and he pivoted swiftly to redirect the force.

The stranger twisted mid-lunge, using the momentum to bring his second dagger toward Rael's side. Rael barely caught the attack with the flat of his sword, but the force sent him stumbling a step back.

Unpredictable.

The stranger's attacks didn't follow the typical rhythm of the assassin class. There was no rigid pattern—no standard combination of skills that Rael could recognize. His movements blended instinct and technique in a way that defied conventional timing. Each step was too fluid to predict, and each strike came from angles that felt half-feral, half-choreographed.

And yet—

Rael's eyes narrowed slightly as the stranger's cloak shifted with each motion, masking the precise movements of his legs. His dodges carried an unnatural efficiency—less about agility and more about knowing exactly where the next strike would land.

This style...

Steel clashed again—

For a split second, Rael caught a glimpse of a distant memory—years ago, beneath the virtual moonlight of a different game. Another duel, another opponent who had moved with a similar blend of instinct and artistry. Back then, Rael had barely managed to keep pace, struggling to predict the erratic rhythm of his opponent's attacks.

But the stranger before him wasn't just replicating that style—he had refined it. Each movement was faster, sharper—flowing seamlessly from attack to evasion without wasted motion.

Lucian.

There was no mistaking it now.