Chapter 1 - The Unseen Path
The System Did Not Bestow Power Equally
The System was not fair.
It did not reward effort. It did not care for justice. It granted power as it saw fit—without reason, without pattern, without mercy.
Some people awoke to greatness.
They were blessed with monstrous strength, capable of tearing through steel with their bare hands. Others commanded elements, bending fire, ice, and lightning as if it were an extension of their will.
Then there were the Chosen. Those who transcended—becoming something beyond human. Their very existence shaped history, their names whispered with reverence or terror.
They became heroes. They became legends.
And then… there were those like Kang Hyeon.
A man whose Awakening bore no grand future. No gilded path to power. No recognition.
[Runic Decipherer]
A class that no one respected. A class that no one feared.
In a world where strength dictated worth, what use was a man who merely read forgotten symbols?
He still remembered the day he awakened.
The Awakening Chamber had been buzzing with anticipation. Each recruit held their breath, awaiting the System's judgment.
When the first boy awakened as a Fireborn Knight, the crowd roared with excitement. A girl, granted the Phantom Blade, was met with envious stares.
And then, his turn came.
The interface appeared before his eyes.
A single notification.
[Runic Decipherer]Grade: Unranked
Silence.
No applause. No hushed whispers of admiration.
Just the faintest murmur of disappointment, rippling through the room like a dying ember.
"What a waste."
The words had been softer than a whisper, yet louder than anything he had ever heard in his life.
A Morning Unlike Any Other
The Kang household was quiet in the early morning. A world untouched by the brutal realities of the System.
Here, power held no weight. Rankings meant nothing.
It was a sanctuary.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air, mingling with the warmth of grilled eggs, rice, and toasted bread. The morning news played in the background, the anchor's voice blending with the soft clatter of plates.
Beyond the windows, Seoul awakened—a city sculpted by the System's influence.
Towering skyscrapers hummed with mana-infused energy.Neon lights flickered in the distance, remnants of a nightlife sustained by those who walked the line between survival and power.Digital banners flashed advertisements for elite guild recruitments, combat schools, and dungeon expeditions—the lifeblood of this new era.
But inside this house, it was just another morning.
Hyeon sat at the kitchen table, fingers absently flipping through an old rune log.
The pages were worn, smudged from years of use. The ink, once sharp and precise, had begun to fade. Yet, his fingers traced each symbol, as if hoping to unearth something new.
From the living room, voices murmured through the stillness.
Then—laughter.
Soft. Familiar.
His sisters.
Jisoo, lively and expressive. Jiyun, dry and composed. Opposites, yet two halves of the same whole.
The sound was grounding. A reminder that here, he was not a failure. Not a worthless hunter.
Just Kang Hyeon.
Across from him, Kang Jinhyuk folded his newspaper with precise ease.
His father was a man of few words, but his presence alone carried more weight than any lecture ever could.
"You're up early."
The words were simple, but the sharpness in his eyes made it clear—he was always observing.
Hyeon exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Couldn't sleep."
A pause. Then, his father set his coffee down.
"Still at it?"
Hyeon flipped a page, feigning nonchalance.
"Just tracing old runes. Nothing important."
Jinhyuk tilted his head slightly.
"Nothing important?"
There was no judgment in his tone. Only curiosity.
And yet—Hyeon still felt his stomach tighten.
"Son, the things that shape your future will never be unimportant."
Hyeon faltered.
He wanted to believe that.
But the world outside this house did not care about knowledge.
It only cared about power.
A steaming cup of tea was placed beside his plate.
Han Seoyeon, his mother, moved with effortless grace. Her presence was soft, yet unwavering. A silent force that held their family together.
"Hyeon-ah," she murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "Not all roads are walked with a sword."
Before he could respond, a snort interrupted the moment.
Jisoo leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, a lazy grin on her face.
"Or, you could just marry rich and live a life of luxury. Sleep all day. Think about it."
Beside her, Jiyun nodded thoughtfully.
"She's not wrong. Why work yourself to death?"
Hyeon chuckled despite himself.
They weren't mocking him. They weren't looking down on him.
They were reminding him.
That he had a choice.
His father's hand landed on his shoulder—solid, grounding.
"You don't have to prove anything to anyone, son. We are here for you. Always."
Hyeon swallowed.
No expectations. No judgment.
Only choice.
The Burden of the System
The world had not always been like this.
Once, power had been measured by wealth, intelligence, and influence. Wars were fought with strategy, not fire and lightning.
The System changed everything.
One day, the world awoke, and reality had been rewritten.
Gates split the sky, tearing through the heavens like open wounds.Towers emerged from nothingness, whispering promises of power to those who dared climb.Monsters spilled into the streets, shattering the illusion of civilization's dominance.
And in the chaos, the System chose.
It granted Codexes. Abilities. Strength beyond reason.
Some were blessed with fire, lightning, and steel.
Others… were given nothing at all.
And then… there were those like Kang Hyeon.
A man who was given no strength.
No sword to wield. No fire to summon.
Only knowledge.
For the first few months after his Awakening, Hyeon had hope.
But reality crushed that dream.
A glorified scribe—in a world that valued how many monsters you could kill, not how much knowledge you could unearth.
"Why waste time on something that won't help in a fight?"
A joke. A waste. A failure.
But Hyeon did not stop.
Because deep down, he knew—
The world never valued things until it was too late.