Free Gifts

"Saiveth, the Fang of the Wild Moon." The werewolf growled, voice rough like gravel. "I see a beast within you, boy. Someone who longs to roam free."

"We are not like the humans, too prideful to let another rise, too greedy to share power unless they can chain it down." He said, his eyes fearlessly scanning the gathered humans.

"Or the Elves, who dress their chains in silk and call it peace."

He lowered and tilted his head to their right, then threw a disdainful glance at a towering High Orc standing in the distance.

"Or the Battle Hungry mongrels of the Badlands."

The High Orc bared his tusks in a savage grin. His lips moved, but only a few nearby caught the words he muttered, and those who did instinctively took a step back.

The werewolf ignored and leaned closer, his tone softer but no less intense.

"We Beastkin understand freedom, the real kind...not the kind offered in contracts or oaths. Should you seek it, come to us," he said, handing Vlad a communication slip of the highest grade.

He rose back up, and without another word, he dragged his claw across the space separating the two. Space was torn open, forming a rift like a wound in reality.

The beastmen stepped through, and as the tear sealed shut, only the faint scent of forest rain remained.

The crimson giant who stood in the distance began to approach, a stench of blood and suffocating presence making everyone step back.

"Thraggor Bonecleaver, Warlord of the Red Hunt," The High Orc announced with a toothy grin.

"Human boy, we do not seek to bind you. We only wish to befriend you."

His deep voice echoed through the silence as he extended a thick hand, a shimmering crimson crystal resting atop his palm.

"A small token of appreciation from my clan." He followed, and as Vlad picked it, he turned without another word and walked away, his heavy footfalls fading into the murmurs.

"It's a memory crystal," someone whispered in the crowd.

The whispers exploded like wildfire as players and other NPCs began speculating what secrets the crystal hid.

Vlad was also surprised because nearly every big power always offered intangible gifts, and only when the players joined them did they show him favors.

The whispers were hushed as a melodious voice cut through the chaos. "A King-tier Spirit Name," she revealed, the weight of her words silencing the masses.

She appeared seated atop a white zither, her gown flowing like water, her eyes deep and endless as twilight. She slowly descended, stopping before Vlad when only a few inches separated them.

"I will advise caution," she said, her voice velvet-smooth. "I am not certain who, but that aura would not belong to anyone lesser than a champion of the Sanguine Pits." She said, her voice thoughtful as she carefully chose her words.

"Stalir Vel'Taria, Sage of the house of Twilight Chorus." Her smile deepened as she bowed ever so slightly.

"I had hoped to be the one to present the finest gift," she said with a soft chuckle, her eyes flicking toward the spot where the High Orc had vanished. "But I suppose the old brute beat us to it."

With graceful hands, she held out a simple whistle delicately carved from pale white wood, its surface etched with flowing runes.

"This is Lyre, a unique artifact of House Twilight Chorus. Blow it in your time of need, and a king-grade spirit shall answer your call." She explained and then handed Vlad a small token made from woven silver and green leaves shaped like a musical letter.

"This will grant you unhindered passage into the Twilight Forest. And know this: so long as you do not stray into darkness, the doors of my house will always remain open to you." She said, and with a graceful bow, her figure dissipated into light, leaving behind only her olive sent.

All the real heavy hitters were gone, and now only smaller factions were left. Vlad was happy to meet each one of them because, unlike the world giant, they would offer material gifts.

The big factions rarely ever offered unconditional gifts to young, talented players simply because they did not lack talented individuals. Though players were special, in the end, talented players with great potential were few, and loyal ones were even fewer.

The smaller factions always offered gifts, betting small and hoping to earn big in the future, and while Vlad did not need their gifts, he was no idiot to refuse free things.

Vlad spent nearly two hours dealing with various players and NPC representatives, and as expected, those hours proved to be highly rewarding.

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'This was more fruitful than I was expecting,' Vlad thought, feeling delighted by all the gifts he received.

'But, to think even they would approach me,' He thought, his eyes resting on a token that bore the mark of a crown made of interlinked chains. 'This might be my lucky day,'

Vlad closed the inventory and entered the teleportation building, a towering, windowless tower located at the edge of the village.

The moment he stepped into the darkness, a system prompt blinked to life before him, offering him the choice to leave the beginner village behind or stay.

{Choose the Dukedom you wish to begin your journey in.}

Dukedom of Eldrith: A fertile, rich land full of agriculture and natural bounty. It is famed for its elite warrior academies, vast and dangerous lands rich with dungeons, and noble culture.

Dukedom of Drakmoor: A coastal, industrial region where seafaring and trade are key. It is known for its naval power and Trade and Commerce.

Dukedom of Ironhold: The domain is a mountainous, arid region known for its endless rich mines, forging industries, and old ruins filled with dangers and treasures.

The world of ascension had many continents, but the main continent, which was called Omniterra, The Land of All, was the largest by land size, a few times the size of normal Earth, and home to nearly all great Empires.

The Human Empire stood unified under a single banner, the same as the great nations of other races.

The Human Empire was divided into three Dukedoms, each ruled by a powerful Archduke and structured with its own noble hierarchy, much like independent kingdoms.

Above all of them stood the Sovereign, the true Emperor of the Solaris Empire.

Though there were unofficial human and other kingdoms and duchies, they were scattered throughout the Badlands, where imperial law held no sway.

Vlad selected the Dukedom of Drakmoor, which he had explored the least since he spent the better half in the dungeons of Eldrith and the worst half in the mines of Ironhold.

But Vlad was going there because, to his understanding, the first calamity was there, still an unknown alchemist who would plunge the world into the dark embrace of Disease and Pestilence, starting the final countdown.

Vlad picked the capital city, Thalmaris, a bustling city housing hundreds of thousands, perched upon the jagged cliffs, looking over the Stormfang Sea.

The city was built of eleven concentric circles, six of land and five of water, with each level representing a different walk of life.

A city known to never sleep, Thalmaris was the biggest hub of trade. While not confirmed, it was said that if one had deep enough pockets, anything could be acquired in the trade haven of Thalmaris.

Once the city was selected, Vlad felt the gravity disappear. Moments later, as the darkness lifted and his senses returned, he found himself inside a vast chamber.

A grant chamber carved out of white stone, lined with abyssal coral which pulsed with darkness of its own, and windows made of sea glass, various colors coming together to create breathtaking depictions of famous and hidden places.

The chamber stretched hundreds of meters in every direction, an open expanse divided into thousands of sections bordered by winding passageways.

Every other second, brilliant light would engulf tens of empty squares, and as the light faded away, it left behind a new player.

Vlad quickly left for one of the four exits, and before he even reached the end of the grand passageway leading outside, he could smell the rich scent of the sea.

As he neared the exit, the howling wind and the sharp sound of rain rang aloud, and a moment later, the heavy rain and the open streets outside the teleportation building came into view.

Vlad moved past the two players standing at the door, the cold droplets drenching him whole within a few breaths. The scent of salt hung heavy in the air, sharp, clean, and biting, mixed with the earthy musk of wet stone and aged wood.

The sea was close and made itself known in every breath he took.

Vlad lifted his gaze to the sky, letting the cold rain wash over him as he took in the breathtaking sight, dark storm clouds woven with roaring lightning, stretching endlessly across the horizon.