Chapter 1 - The Fall of a Warrior
Aldric Everthorne had always believed in loyalty.
He had spent years and decades proving that belief with blood and steel, leading armies, crushing enemies, and protecting the kingdom with unyielding resolve. To him, the battlefield was sacred—where bonds were forged, where loyalty was tested.
And yet, as he lay there dying on the cold stone floor of the royal hall, his own blood spilling beneath him, he realized how naive he had been.
Pain throbbed through his abdomen where the blade had pierced him, the wound deep and fatal. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, his body already betraying him. His strength was fading, limbs growing heavy.
Above him, torchlight flickered, casting shifting shadows on the faces of those who had betrayed him. Familiar faces.
Trusted faces.
Darion, his oldest friend, the man who had fought beside him for over a decade, stood above him with a bloodied sword. His expression was unreadable—cold, distant, as if Aldric was nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with.
"You should have stayed in your place, Aldric," Darion murmured, flicking the blood from his blade.
His voice was calm, almost disappointed.
"But you were always too righteous for your own good."
Aldric gritted his teeth, trying to push himself up, but his body refused to obey. Strength leaked from him along with his blood, pooling in a dark crimson puddle on the marble floor.
Why?
The word burned in his mind, but he couldn't force it past his lips.
A soft chuckle.
Lysara knelt beside him, her emerald eyes gleaming with amusement. The rogue had fought at his side for years, had saved his life more times than he could count. And yet, she was here—watching him die.
She reached out, as if to brush a lock of blood-matted hair from his face, but stopped short, her smirk widening.
"Don't take it personally," she whispered. "It's just business."
Business.
Aldric's fingers twitched against the cold stone. He had fought beside them. Bled for them. Killed for them.
And they had discarded him like nothing.
A low, ragged breath left his lips, and he tried to reach for his sword, but the strength had left his fingers. The weapon, the one that had once cleaved through enemy lines, now lay inches from his grasp, useless.
In the distance, he could hear the faint murmurs of the royal court. The nobles watched from the safety of their golden thrones, whispering, judging, doing nothing.
King Edrian sat on his high seat, his jeweled rings glinting under the dim torchlight.
He did not look at Aldric.
He did not speak.
He had allowed this.
The man Aldric had sworn his life to had turned his back on him.
His vision blurred.
The pain in his gut was fading now, numbed by the cold creeping into his limbs. His vision darkened at the edges, the torchlight above flickering like dying embers.
His heartbeat slowed.
His body stilled.
Death took him.
________________________________________
[System Initialization…]
________________________________________
Aldric's eyes snapped open.
He gasped, lungs burning, body convulsing as if he had been drowning. Cold air rushed into him, sharp and stale, filling his chest with new life.
He was alive.
But something was wrong.
The royal hall was gone. No banners, no golden chandeliers, no towering stone pillars. No torches flickering in the night air.
Only darkness.
Aldric forced himself upright, his muscles stiff, his limbs trembling. He was lying on cold, damp stone. The air was thick, suffocating, heavy with the scent of rot and decay.
His breath came fast and uneven. His fingers dug into the rough surface beneath him, trying to ground himself, to understand.
Where… am I?
A soft chime echoed in his mind.
________________________________________
[Welcome, Host. The Abyssal Rebirth System has chosen you.]
________________________________________
Aldric flinched.
A series of glowing red words burned themselves into his vision, pulsing like a heartbeat. The letters were unnatural, twisting and shifting like living things.
________________________________________
[Name: Aldric Everthorne]
[Class: Abyssal Revenant]
[Level: 1]
[Attributes: Strength - 12, Agility - 10, Vitality - 15, Arcane - 5]
[Skills: Revenant's Resurgence, Blood for Power, Predator's Gaze]
________________________________________
Aldric's breathing slowed.
A system?
He had heard myths of warriors chosen by the gods, granted divine power through celestial intervention. But this… this did not feel divine.
It felt dark.
Wrong.
His fingers curled into fists. His body felt… different. Stronger. Sharper. There was an unnatural energy coiling in his veins, buzzing beneath his skin like something otherworldly had taken root inside him.
Then the memories struck.
Darion's cold words.
Lysara's smirk.
The steel in his gut.
He had died.
And yet, here he was.
Something cold and poisonous bloomed in his chest. It was not the desperate, raw anger of a warrior on the battlefield. It was something deeper.
Darker.
His nails dug into his palm, his jaw clenching so hard it hurt. This wasn't some miracle.
This was a curse.
And yet, he welcomed it.
A sharp breath escaped him. His heart pounded, but not with fear. Not with despair.
With something new.
A hunger.
Aldric raised his head, eyes burning with a renewed fire.
"They will pay."
The system responded instantly.
________________________________________
[New Quest Received: The Path of Vengeance]
Objective: Escape the Abyssal Tomb.
Reward: Skill Upgrade + 500 Experience.
________________________________________
Aldric exhaled slowly.
The Abyssal Tomb.
His eyes adjusted to the dim glow of the runes covering the walls. The crypt stretched endlessly in all directions, ancient symbols pulsing with a sickly crimson light. The walls were damp, uneven, covered in carvings of twisted figures, their hollow eyes staring into nothing.
Aldric clenched his fists.
He had no idea how long he had been dead.
But that no longer mattered.
He had returned.
And vengeance would be his.
The silence in the tomb was suffocating.
Aldric steadied his breathing, trying to push aside the confusion and focus. He didn't have the luxury of hesitation. His body, despite being resurrected, still bore the instincts of a warrior. And those instincts screamed one thing.
Danger.
The air was too still. The shadows felt too deep. His fingers itched for a weapon, but there was nothing in sight.
Then, a low growl echoed from the darkness.
Aldric's body tensed immediately. His senses sharpened as he turned toward the sound, every muscle coiled and ready.
Something moved beyond the glow of the runes.
It was humanoid in shape, but wrong. Its body was shriveled, its flesh clinging tightly to its bones. Hollow sockets burned with an eerie blue light, its mouth opening and closing in silent spasms.
A revenant.
Aldric felt the realization hit him like a hammer. He had read about them before—warriors who died in hatred, unable to pass on, their bodies turned into mindless husks of rage and hunger.
Like him.
But there was a difference.
The thing before him was nothing more than a beast, a mindless creature lost in an eternal cycle of suffering.
Aldric was not.
The revenant lunged.
Aldric reacted purely on instinct. He threw himself to the side, rolling across the cold stone as clawed fingers swiped where his throat had been. His body moved on muscle memory alone, honed from years on the battlefield.
His fingers scraped against something metallic.
A weapon.
His hand wrapped around the hilt of a rusted, broken sword. It was barely more than a jagged shard of iron, but it was enough.
The revenant turned, letting out a rasping snarl before attacking again. It was fast—too fast. Its limbs jerked unnaturally, moving with unpredictable, animalistic aggression.
[Skill Activated: Predator's Gaze]
Aldric's vision shifted.
The revenant's form glowed faintly, and weak points flashed red across its body.
The spine.
The moment the creature lunged again, Aldric dodged low, twisting behind it with ease. The sword in his hand felt light—his strength was greater than before.
He drove the jagged blade into the creature's exposed back.
A sickening crunch.
The revenant let out a strangled hiss, its body convulsing violently before collapsing into dust.
Aldric didn't move for a moment. His breathing was heavy, his hands clenched tight around the broken sword.
Then—a chime.
________________________________________
[Experience Gained: 150]
[Level Up!]
________________________________________
A flood of energy surged through his body. It was unlike anything he had felt before. His muscles tightened, his senses sharpened—he could hear the faintest of whispers in the tomb, feel the shift in the air, even sense the weight of the sword in his grip as if it were an extension of his own body.
His mind raced.
The system was feeding him power.
He had grown stronger.
From a single kill.
A dangerous thought crept into his mind.
What happens if I kill more?
His grip on the sword tightened.
He wanted to find out.
The tomb was endless, its corridors stretching into infinite darkness. The runes along the walls pulsed faintly, their crimson glow the only source of light.
Aldric moved forward, his bare feet making no sound against the stone. The weight of his own existence felt different now—as if the abyss itself was watching him, waiting.
Then, movement.
Aldric slowed, his gaze narrowing as a new shape emerged from the shadows.
Another revenant. But this one was different.
Its body was larger, clad in rusted armor that barely clung to its decayed flesh. The moment its hollow eyes locked onto him, it let out a deep, guttural snarl and raised a jagged sword.
Aldric didn't wait.
He charged.
The revenant swung, its blade cutting through the air toward his skull. Too slow.
Aldric ducked, rolling beneath the strike. His instincts, sharpened by the system, guided his movements flawlessly. He surged forward, slamming his shoulder into the creature's rotting torso.
The revenant stumbled, but it didn't fall.
It was stronger than the last one.
Aldric's eyes flickered as Predator's Gaze activated once more. The weak points on the creature glowed in his vision—its knee joints, its exposed ribs, and… its skull.
The moment the revenant moved to attack again, Aldric was already ahead of it.
He sidestepped its downward slash, spinning around to its exposed back.
His sword plunged into its spine.
The revenant let out a monstrous screech, staggering forward. But it didn't collapse.
It was still standing.
Aldric didn't hesitate. He grabbed the hilt with both hands and twisted the blade violently.
There was a sharp crack—and the revenant fell.
Its decayed body shuddered before it finally disintegrated into dust.
Another chime rang in
[Level Up!]
Aldric exhaled, his grip loosening on the sword.
The rush of energy hit him again, but this time, it was greater. His body thrived on it, absorbing the abyssal essence left behind by the slain revenants.
This was no ordinary system.
It didn't just grant power—it rewarded brutality.
Aldric flexed his fingers, testing the strength in his grip.
He had changed.
And he was going to keep changing.
At last, he reached a massive stone door at the end of the crypt. Strange symbols were carved into its surface, glowing faintly as if reacting to his presence.
A new notification appeared before him.
[Would you like to leave the Abyssal Tomb?]
Aldric didn't hesitate.
He placed his hand against the cold stone.
The moment he did, the runes flared to life, and the entire tomb shook. The stone door rumbled as ancient mechanisms turned, shifting and unlocking.
Beyond the threshold, a world awaited him.
A world where Darion, Lysara, and the rest of the traitors still lived.
A world that would soon know his wrath.
With one last breath, Aldric stepped forward.
Into the abyss.
Aldric stepped forward.
For a moment, there was nothing but darkness—a void stretching beyond time, beyond existence itself. Then, a sudden pull, as if unseen hands were dragging him forward.
A flash of crimson light consumed his vision.
And then—
He emerged.
Cold wind lashed against his skin. The scent of damp earth, rotting wood, and something foul filled his nostrils.
Aldric's boots sank into the wet ground as he steadied himself. He was no longer in the Abyssal Tomb.
He was standing in the middle of a ruined graveyard.
Cracked tombstones jutted from the earth like broken teeth, covered in moss and decay. The sky above was a swirling mess of black clouds and crimson mist, casting a sickly glow over the land.
Beyond the graveyard, a dense forest stretched into the horizon, its trees twisted and gnarled, their branches resembling skeletal fingers clawing at the sky. In the far distance, he could see the faint outline of **a settlement—**a town, perhaps.
His jaw clenched.
Good.
If there were people, there would be information. And weapons.
The system chimed.
________________________________________
[New Quest Received: The Hunt Begins]
Objective: Locate information about Darion and Lysara's whereabouts.
Reward: Skill Upgrade + 800 Experience.
________________________________________
Aldric exhaled.
The system was guiding him. It wanted him to move, to grow stronger.
And he had no intention of resisting.
He checked his status again.
[Name: Aldric Everthorne]
[Class: Abyssal Revenant]
[Level: 3]
[Attributes: Strength - 18, Agility - 14, Vitality - 20, Arcane - 7]
[Skills: Revenant's Resurgence, Blood for Power, Predator's Gaze]
Level 3.
The increase in strength was noticeable. His body felt lighter, his muscles more responsive. His senses had sharpened, allowing him to hear the faint rustling of leaves, the distant scraping of something moving through the trees.
He was evolving.
But it wasn't enough.
Not yet.
His gaze dropped to his current weapon—a rusted, broken sword. It had served him well in the tomb, but it wouldn't be enough against real enemies.
Aldric turned his attention toward the graveyard.
He was not alone.
A faint clattering sound echoed through the mist, like bones rattling against stone.
His grip on the sword tightened.
Then, from the fog, they came.
Two figures shambled forward, their forms barely visible through the dense mist.
Skeletons.
Their bodies were covered in tattered remnants of armor, their hollow sockets glowing with faint blue fire. Each one wielded a rusted weapon—one carried a chipped sword, the other a jagged spear.
They were not mindless husks like the revenants in the tomb. There was purpose in their movements.
Aldric's lips curled into a smirk.
Perfect.
The first skeleton lunged.
It moved fast, thrusting its spear toward his chest with surprising precision. Aldric twisted to the side, avoiding the strike by inches. The second skeleton followed immediately, slashing downward with its sword.
Too slow.
Aldric raised his own weapon, deflecting the blow before stepping inside its guard. His foot slammed into the skeleton's knee, sending it staggering back.
The spear-wielding skeleton tried to skewer him from behind.
Aldric didn't even turn.
[Skill Activated: Predator's Gaze]
The world shifted.
The skeleton's weak points glowed red—its brittle joints, its exposed ribcage, the base of its skull.
Aldric moved.
He sidestepped the spear thrust, grabbed the skeleton's wrist, and wrenched it to the side. The creature stumbled, exposing its spine.
With a sharp twist, Aldric swung his sword—severing its head in a single stroke.
The skeleton collapsed into dust.
A chime rang in his mind, but he ignored it.
The second skeleton came at him again.
This time, Aldric didn't even dodge.
He stepped forward, catching the skeleton's arm as it swung. With his newfound strength, he ripped the creature's limb clean off, sending bone fragments flying.
The skeleton reeled back.
Aldric did not let it recover.
He grabbed its skull with both hands and crushed it between his fingers.
The remains crumbled to the ground.
A brief silence followed.
Then—
________________________________________
[Experience Gained: 300]
[Level Up!]
________________________________________
Aldric exhaled as the rush of energy filled him once again.
His fingers twitched. His heart pounded.
He was getting stronger.
And he liked it.
His gaze fell upon the fallen skeletons. Their weapons were old, rusted, but better than what he had now. He reached down, picking up the chipped sword. It was slightly heavier than his previous weapon, but the balance was better.
He tested the grip, giving it a few experimental swings.
This will do.
Aldric's gaze shifted toward the distant town.
If skeletons roamed the graveyard, then there were worse things lurking beyond.
And he was more than ready for them.
As Aldric approached the graveyard's exit, the mist grew thicker. The trees ahead seemed to bend and twist, their forms unnatural.
A whisper drifted through the air.
Low. Faint. Ancient.
Aldric stopped.
Something was watching him.
The mist parted.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Tall. Cloaked in tattered black robes. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, but a skeletal hand gripped a long, curved blade. The air around it shimmered, an aura of pure malice radiating from its form.
Aldric's muscles tensed.
This was not like the skeletons before.
This thing was stronger.
The figure raised its head, revealing a pair of glowing red eyes beneath the hood. When it spoke, its voice was a whisper that carried the weight of death itself.
"You should not be here, Revenant."
Aldric smirked.
"Neither should you."
The creature moved.
A blur of black mist and steel.
Aldric raised his sword—
And the battle began.
The cloaked figure vanished.
Aldric's instincts screamed. He twisted to the side, barely avoiding the blade that materialized from the mist, slicing through the air where his neck had been.
Fast.
Too fast.
The entity was nothing like the skeletons. Its movements were smooth, precise—deadly. It wasn't mindless. It was a hunter.
Aldric barely had time to parry as another strike came at him, the curved blade gleaming with unnatural energy. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal. The force sent him skidding backward, his boots digging into the wet ground.
This thing was stronger than him.
For now.
The creature spoke, its voice echoing like a chorus of whispers.
"You are an anomaly, Revenant. You do not belong in this world."
Aldric's grip tightened on his sword.
"I don't care."
He moved.
[Skill Activated: Predator's Gaze]
The world shifted. The entity's form glowed, weak points flickering like dying embers. But unlike the revenants or skeletons, there were fewer openings.
One on the left side of its ribs. Another at the base of its skull.
Aldric lunged, aiming for the ribcage.
The entity reacted instantly.
Its cloak twisted and expanded, like living shadows moving to protect it. Aldric's blade barely grazed its side before the entity retaliated, its mist-like body folding inward—and then reforming behind him.
A flash of steel.
Aldric twisted just in time to avoid his spine being severed, but the curved blade still ripped through his side, sending a searing pain through his ribs.
[Health -20]
He gritted his teeth. The pain was sharp, but his body was already healing—a slow, unnatural process as the Abyssal power coursed through his veins.
The entity cocked its head, observing him.
"You are incomplete. A broken soul, stitched together by the Abyss. You should not exist."
Aldric wiped the blood from his mouth.
"Yeah? Well, I do."
And he wasn't about to let some undead bastard stand in his way.
The entity moved again—a blur of mist and steel. But this time, Aldric was ready.
Instead of dodging, he stepped forward.
The entity's blade sliced toward his chest—Aldric raised his arm, letting it cut into his flesh instead of taking a fatal blow. The moment their bodies were close, he drove his knee into its ribs.
A hollow crack echoed through the graveyard.
The entity staggered.
Aldric didn't hesitate. He gripped his sword with both hands and swung at the creature's exposed skull.
A perfect, killing blow.
But—
The entity dissolved into mist.
Aldric's blade passed through empty air.
Shit.
Before he could react, the mist reformed above him. The entity's blade came downward.
Aldric barely managed to raise his weapon.
Metal met metal.
The force drove him to one knee, his arms shaking from the impact.
This wasn't working. His strength alone wasn't enough.
The entity loomed over him, its crimson eyes glowing like embers in the darkness.
"You are persistent," it murmured. "But you are still weak."
Aldric exhaled slowly.
Then, he smirked.
"Not for long."
[Skill Activated: Blood for Power]
Sacrificing 10% Health…
Aldric's vision flared red as raw, abyssal energy surged through his veins.
His wounds burned as if set on fire, but the pain was nothing compared to the power that filled him.
Faster. Stronger. Sharper.
Time seemed to slow.
The entity's next strike came down—Aldric saw it with perfect clarity.
He sidestepped, avoiding the blade by mere inches. His own sword shot upward, aiming for the exposed ribs once more.
This time, he didn't miss.
The blade sank deep, piercing through the entity's shadowy flesh. A low, distorted screech tore through the air as the creature jerked back, mist spilling from its wound like bleeding darkness.
Aldric yanked the blade free, watching as the entity's form flickered and distorted.
It was wounded.
But not dead.
Aldric tightened his grip. "Come on, then. Try again."
The entity hesitated.
For the first time, the hunger in its gaze was replaced by something else.
Recognition.
"You…" It whispered. "No. This is wrong. You are not supposed to be here. You—"
Aldric lunged.
His blade tore through the entity's neck.
A final, echoing screech filled the graveyard as the creature collapsed into nothingness, its misty body dissolving into the air.
A heavy silence followed.
Then—a chime.
________________________________________
[Experience Gained: 600]
[Level Up!]
[New Skill Acquired: Shadowstep]
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Aldric let out a slow breath.
His body was still buzzing with the aftershocks of battle. His wounds were already healing, the abyssal power working through him like a slow-burning fire.
But more importantly—
He had won.
And he was stronger for it.
A new skill had been added to his repertoire.
Shadowstep.
He focused on the description, and glowing text appeared in his vision.
[Shadowstep: Allows the user to briefly shift into the shadows, evading attacks or repositioning in combat. Duration: 0.5 seconds. Cooldown: 10 seconds.]
Aldric's smirk widened.
Now this was interesting.
A movement caught his attention. He turned his head.
At the far end of the graveyard, beyond the broken iron gates, a road stretched into the distance. And at the end of that road—
A town.
Its faint torchlights flickered against the dark sky.
Aldric sheathed his new sword and started walking.
The hunt had only just begun.
Aldric stepped through the rusted iron gates of the graveyard, leaving behind the crumbling tombstones and the remains of his fallen enemies. The town lay ahead, its faint torchlight flickering in the distance.
The dirt road beneath his feet was uneven, riddled with cracks and signs of neglect. The land itself felt tainted, as if the very soil had absorbed centuries of death and suffering.
He exhaled, adjusting his grip on his newly acquired sword. His body still pulsed with the energy of his recent level-up, his strength sharper, his movements lighter.
And yet, he knew better than to let his guard down.
The world was not the same as when he had died. How much time had passed? A few days? Weeks? Years?
He would find out soon enough.
As he approached the town, he noticed a wooden signpost standing at the roadside, its surface chipped and weathered. Faded letters were carved into the wood.
[Black Hollow]
Aldric narrowed his eyes.
He had never heard of this place. And that meant one of two things—either he had been dead far longer than he thought, or he had been reborn somewhere else entirely.
Neither answer sat well with him.
The town's outer wall came into view. It wasn't much—just a series of wooden barricades reinforced with crude iron spikes. It looked less like a defensive structure and more like a desperate attempt to keep something out.
And if the people here were that afraid…
Then something worse than revenants lurked in the shadows.
Aldric continued forward.
As he neared the gate, a voice rang out.
"Halt!"
Aldric slowed his steps. Two figures stood atop the wooden barricade, both clad in patched leather armor. One held a rusted spear, the other an old crossbow aimed directly at him.
"State your business, stranger."
Aldric remained silent for a moment, then spoke.
"I'm looking for information." His voice was calm, firm. "I need to know where I am… and what year it is."
The two guards exchanged wary glances.
That was answer enough.
Time had passed.
A lot of it.
The one with the spear narrowed his eyes.
"You don't look like a traveler. And you sure as hell don't look like a merchant. What's your real reason for coming here?"
Aldric met his gaze, unwavering.
"I was betrayed. I intend to settle my debts."
The guard let out a dry chuckle.
"Revenge, huh? That's nothing new around here."
He nodded toward his companion.
"Lower the crossbow. If he wanted trouble, we'd already be dead."
The crossbowman hesitated, then complied.
"Come on in, stranger," the spearman said, stepping back.
"But don't cause any problems. We have enough of those already."
The wooden gate creaked open.
Aldric stepped inside.
Black Hollow
The town was worse than he expected.
The streets were narrow, lined with crooked wooden houses that leaned as if ready to collapse. The air stank of unwashed bodies, damp wood, and rot. Torches flickered weakly against the buildings, casting eerie shadows.
There were people—but they all moved like ghosts, hunched figures wrapped in tattered cloaks, their faces obscured by grime and exhaustion. The few who weren't hiding in alleyways or behind shuttered windows watched him with mistrustful eyes.
This was not a town.
It was a grave waiting to happen.
Aldric walked through the main street, taking in every detail.
Black Hollow was dying.
Whether from famine, disease, or something worse, he didn't know.
What he did know was that a place this desperate would have rumors. And rumors led to answers.
He spotted a tavern near the center of town. The sign above its door read The Hollow Hearth, its wood scorched as if it had once burned and barely survived.
It would do.
Aldric pushed open the door.
The Hollow Hearth
The tavern's interior was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of stale beer and damp wood. A handful of patrons sat at scattered tables, hunched over their drinks, muttering amongst themselves.
The bartender, a heavyset man with a thick gray beard, barely looked up as Aldric entered.
His one good eye—the other covered by an old leather patch—narrowed slightly.
"New face," he grunted.
"That's rare these days."
Aldric walked up to the bar, placing a hand on the worn wooden counter.
"I need information."
The bartender let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Information isn't free, stranger."
Aldric didn't blink.
"I wasn't asking for charity."
The bartender studied him for a moment before nodding.
"Fair enough. What do you want to know?"
"First—what year is it?"
The bartender frowned but answered.
"Year 761 of the Ashen Calendar."
Aldric's fingers tightened slightly against the counter.
That wasn't possible.
When he had died, it had been Year 713.
Forty-eight years.
He had been dead for almost half a century.
The bartender noticed his reaction but didn't comment.
"What else?"
Aldric forced himself to focus.
"I need to know if the names Darion Everthorne and Lysara Vale mean anything to you."
At that, the bartender paused.
The tavern, already quiet, seemed to grow even still.
Aldric's eyes flicked toward the nearest table. The men sitting there—previously drunk and muttering—were now watching him closely.
The bartender exhaled through his nose.
"Can't say I know those names personally. But… Everthorne, you said?"
Aldric nodded.
The bartender leaned in slightly. His voice lowered.
"There was a noble house by that name once. Powerful. Wealthy. Had their hands in everything."
He tapped a finger against the counter.
"But that was a long time ago."
Aldric remained silent.
The bartender continued.
"The Everthorne line ended decades ago.
The last known heir vanished, and their estates were seized by the crown. Rumors say there was betrayal, bloodshed—typical noble mess."
He shrugged.
"Now their name is nothing but a footnote in history."
Aldric's expression didn't change.
They erased me.
Forty-eight years had passed, and the world had moved on. His family name—his entire existence—had been wiped away.
But he was back.
And he would burn their world to the ground.
The bartender cleared his throat.
"If you're looking for more than rumors, there's one place that might help."
Aldric met his gaze.
"Where?"
The bartender smirked slightly.
"The Black Market. They deal in history, secrets, and things better left buried."
He nodded toward a back door.
"You'll find it underground. But be careful. They don't deal kindly with those who ask the wrong questions."
Aldric pushed away from the bar.
Let them try.
He had been a ghost, a name long forgotten.
But now?
Now, he was the storm that would tear this world apart.
And his path of vengeance had only just begun.