Prologue: The Forgotten Land

Kyle never imagined his life would end in betrayal. For years, he had lived an ordinary existence—working a dead-end job, drowning in bills, numbing the monotony with video games and cheap whiskey. The highlight of his days had been escaping into RPGs, where he could be a warrior, a king, a god. Anything but the invisible man he had become in the real world.

Then came the email.

It was a normal evening. The same worn-out chair, the same cluttered desk, the same laptop screen illuminating his dim apartment. Kyle had been half-heartedly scrolling through his inbox, skimming over spam and ignored subscriptions, when something strange caught his eye.

"A world where the forgotten thrive. Do you seek power?"

There was no sender. No return address. Just the subject line in bold black letters and a single link embedded in the message body.

Kyle scoffed. Another scam.

Still, something gnawed at him. A strange curiosity he couldn't quite place. He hovered over the delete button but hesitated.

What if, just what if, it was real?

The thought was absurd, but Kyle was no stranger to indulging in fantasy. He clicked.

The screen glowed bright. Too bright.

A pulse of light burst forth, engulfing the entire room. Kyle barely had time to cry out before the world around him shattered.

His body hurt. It wasn't the dull ache of a restless sleep or the sting of a bad fall—it was an all-consuming pain that gripped his muscles, his bones, his very soul. He groaned, forcing himself upright, only to find the air itself felt wrong. Heavy. Charged with something unseen.

Kyle blinked.

He was no longer in his apartment.

The sky above him churned, a swirling mass of crimson and gold, broken only by streaks of black lightning that crackled across the heavens. The land stretched endlessly, a mixture of dense forests, rolling hills, and jagged peaks that pulsed with veins of molten rock. The air carried a scent of earth and fire, mixed with something old—something forgotten.

A cold realization settled over him.

This was not Earth.

I've been… transported?

The idea was too ridiculous to accept, but the evidence was undeniable. He was no longer in his world. The email, the light—it all made sense now.

Kyle was in another realm.

He rose shakily to his feet, his body unsteady. His clothes were the same—worn jeans, a hoodie, sneakers—but everything else was alien. He turned in slow circles, taking in his surroundings. Trees with twisted, blackened trunks loomed over him, their branches reaching toward the sky like skeletal fingers. The distant mountains rumbled, spewing embers into the air.

And then, he heard it.

A whisper.

No, not one—many.

Disembodied voices drifted through the air, their words layered upon one another like a chorus of forgotten souls. The sound sent a shiver down Kyle's spine.

Welcome to The Land…

The words weren't spoken so much as felt. They echoed in his mind, slithering through his thoughts like a living thing.

The Land? The name carried weight, as if it were something ancient, something that had existed long before memory itself.

Then, as if in response to his thoughts, a translucent screen flickered into existence before his eyes.

System Initialization Complete.

Welcome, Outworlder.

You have been Marked.

Kyle stumbled back, heart pounding. A system prompt? Like in a game?

Before he could process what was happening, a guttural howl ripped through the trees.

It was a sound that sent primal fear coursing through his veins. Not human. Not even close.

Instinct took over. Kyle spun toward the source of the noise, eyes scanning the shadows.

They emerged from the underbrush—small, twisted creatures with sinewy limbs and eyes that glowed like dying embers. Goblins. But not the feeble, bumbling creatures from fantasy books and games. These were feral, predatory, their jagged teeth bared in hungry grins. Their weapons were crude—bone daggers, rusted spears—but the malice in their gazes was unmistakable.

Kyle's pulse thundered in his ears.

He had no weapon. No armor. No idea how to fight.

The goblins spread out, forming a semicircle. One of them—a larger, scarred creature—tilted its head and spoke in a rasping, broken language.

"Meat."

The word sent a jolt of terror through Kyle.

They weren't just hunting him. They were toying with him.

A part of him screamed to run. Another part knew it wouldn't matter. They were faster. Armed. He had nothing.

Then—

A second prompt appeared.

Potential for Growth Detected.

Would you like to accept The Mark?

[Accept] | [Decline]

Kyle didn't hesitate.

Accept.

The moment he made his choice, a surge of energy flooded his body.

His muscles tensed, his senses sharpened. Heat coursed through his veins like liquid fire. The world seemed to slow, every detail sharpening into perfect clarity.

The goblins hesitated.

Kyle clenched his fists. He could feel the power coursing through him, a raw, untamed force waiting to be unleashed.

Another notification appeared.

Class Chosen: Warlord of the Marked

Passive Ability Unlocked: Dominion's Might

Active Skill Acquired: Blood Reclamation (Lv. 1)

The goblins charged.

Kyle moved.

He wasn't a fighter. He had no formal training. But in that moment, none of it mattered.

His fist connected with the first goblin's skull, a sickening crack echoing through the clearing. The creature crumpled.

Blood splattered across his skin.

And something changed.

Blood Reclamation Activated.

Absorbing Energy… Strength Increased.

Kyle felt it—his muscles tightening, his speed increasing. He was absorbing their power.

The second goblin lunged, blade aiming for his throat. Kyle twisted, grabbing its wrist and crushing it with inhuman strength. The goblin shrieked before Kyle drove his knee into its chest, sending it sprawling.

The remaining goblins hesitated now.

Kyle smirked.

"Who's the prey now?"

They turned to flee.

Kyle let them.

He stood among the bodies, breathing heavily, the rush of battle still pounding through his veins.

A final notification appeared.

Congratulations!

First Combat Victory Achieved.

The Mark Acknowledges Your Strength.

Title Acquired: "Bloodborn Warlord"

+5 Strength, +3 Dexterity, +2 Constitution.

Kyle exhaled, wiping the blood from his hands.

This world… it was dangerous. Brutal. Unforgiving.

But for the first time in his life, he wasn't powerless.

And he was just getting started.