Wraith_Weaver

In a world where the strong reign and the weak perish, Azrael was never meant to survive.

Born into nothing, hunted by forces beyond his understanding, he has spent his life running—from his past, from his enemies, and from an inevitable fate lurking in the shadows.

But when an enigmatic system binds itself to his soul, everything changes.

☠ Complete the missions. Grow stronger. Or face the unknown penalties. ☠

This isn’t a gift. It’s a gamble. Every failure has consequences.
Some take away his strength. Some take away his freedom.
And some... take away his life.

Now, trapped in a brutal world teeming with nightmarish creatures, warring factions, and hidden truths, Azrael must defy the system itself—before it consumes him.

⚔ Monsters lurk in the abyss.
⚔ Factions wage war for power.
⚔ A forgotten truth waits to be unearthed.

To ascend, he must embrace the shadows.
To survive, he must defy the system.
To rule, he must carve his name into the darkness.

[A Dark Fantasy | Level-Up System | High Stakes Survival].

Nightbound Legacy

Azrael's body ached as he pushed himself off the damp, rocky ground. The scent of blood clung to the air, mingling with the metallic tang of the mist. His vision blurred momentarily before sharpening. His surroundings had changed again.

The cavernous darkness that swallowed him upon entering the rift had now shifted into something eerily different. Towering ruins loomed around him, their cracked pillars standing like the broken ribs of a long-dead beast. Glowing veins of an unknown substance pulsed through the stone, giving the area a ghostly, dim illumination.

A guttural growl rumbled from the shadows. A pair of crimson eyes flared open in the darkness, followed by another, then another. His heartbeat quickened.

His instincts screamed at him to move, but his muscles felt sluggish from exhaustion. Clenching his teeth, he forced himself into a stance. If he faltered now, he was dead.

The system's cold command rang in his mind, but unlike before, there were no extra details, no specific conditions—just a singular, ominous instruction.

Azrael exhaled, steadying his breath. The creatures began to emerge from the dark. They were grotesque, hunched forms with elongated limbs and serrated fangs dripping with black saliva. Their skin, if it could even be called that, looked like charred flesh barely clinging to bone.

Azrael rolled to the side, narrowly dodging the swipe of razor-sharp claws. He retaliated with a wild swing of his dagger, cutting into its side. The creature shrieked but barely staggered.

He pivoted, dodging another attack, then slashed upward, aiming for its throat. This time, the blade bit deeper. The monster gurgled, dark ichor pouring from its wound as it crumpled to the ground.

He barely had time to register the notification before the rest of the pack rushed him.

His breath came in ragged bursts as he moved on instinct, dodging, slashing, barely keeping up. His body screamed in protest, his stamina rapidly depleting.

Another lunge—too fast! He couldn't dodge!

A claw raked across his shoulder, pain flaring hot and sharp. He stumbled, barely keeping his footing. The monster reared back for the finishing blow.

Something deep inside him stirred, something primal, something... hungry.

A cold sensation crawled up his spine as his vision flickered.

For a brief moment, the world around him shifted.

He saw threads—thin, glimmering lines crisscrossing through the air. Instinct took over. He reached out, not with his hands, but with his will, and—

The monster jerked mid-motion, its body twisting unnaturally before dropping lifelessly to the ground.

Azrael panted, staring at his trembling hands.

Before he could process, the remaining creatures hesitated. Their crimson eyes flickered with something beyond hunger. Was it… fear?

Chapter 9:Step Into The Abyss