Ethan Lyle glanced back to find a woman approaching him. She looked every bit the corporate professional—frameless glasses, a crisp white shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt, and heels that clicked rhythmically against the floor.
Seeing him staring, she offered a faint, practiced smile.
"I realized I hadn't introduced myself. I’m Lena Baird," she said, her voice steady and efficient. "Elder Crane briefed me on your situation. The Grand Champion Rift isn't active yet, so you’ve got two days to settle in and rest."
"Understood. Thank you," Ethan replied. He kept it brief, moving through the registration process without a fuss.
Once the paperwork was finalized, Lena led him into a towering skyscraper. After checking him in at the sleek lobby desk, she slid a magnetic keycard across the counter toward him.
"Here’s your card. Room 6099. The dining hall is on the first floor—it’s open twenty-four hours, though you’re free to eat out in the city if you prefer. You’ll be notified the moment the Rift opens." She paused, handing him a business card. "If there’s an emergency, contact me directly."
"Will do," Ethan nodded.
He found his room easily enough. It was modest but immaculate, the air carrying a subtle, calming scent of sandalwood. More importantly, the view was spectacular. Ethan stood by the window, looking out over the sprawling neon expanse of Abyssport.
The city was a labyrinth of light. Skyscrapers pierced the clouds, their glass facades shimmering with arcane energy. The streets below were arteries of movement, packed with a level of traffic and life that made Verdant City look like a ghost town. In the distance, the Great Dragon flags atop the city walls snapped violently in the wind—a silent testament to the city’s storied dominance.
Ethan felt a sudden urge to walk the streets. He had time to kill, and he’d never been to a metropolis of this scale.
He was halfway to the door when a frantic rattling at the lock stopped him. A girl’s voice, melodic but frustrated, drifted through the wood.
"Weird... Why won’t this damn card work?"
Then, a beat of silence followed by a sharp, violent shout: "Open up!"
CRACK.
The door didn't just open; the lock was obliterated. The frame splintered as the door slammed against the interior wall. Ethan stood frozen, staring in disbelief at the intruder.
A petite girl stood in the doorway, blinking her large, confused eyes at him. She looked like a porcelain doll—pale pink hair tied up in twin ribbons, a pink sundress, and a teddy-bear backpack. She looked entirely out of place in a city of warriors.
She planted her hands on her hips. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my room?"
Ethan stared at the wreckage of his door. "Are you serious right now?"
The girl’s eyes widened as she looked him up and down. A look of realization—and fury—crossed her face. "Oh, I get it! You’re a creep! You broke in and waited for me, didn't you? Pervert!"
"Wait, what—"
"Eat this!"
She clenched her fist. In an instant, her slender, pale arm underwent a grotesque transformation. Muscles surged and rippled, veins bulging like cords of steel through her skin as her arm tripled in size. The sheer force of her punch sent a shockwave of air whistling toward Ethan’s skull.
Ethan didn't wait to see if his head would explode. He triggered Blink Dance.
The air shimmered as he phased out of reality, reappearing a split second later a few feet to the left. The girl’s fist slammed into the space where his face had been, the pressure alone cracking the wall behind him.
A Primal Berserker? Ethan’s pulse hammered. This girl had enough raw power to level the floor.
"Hold on! I’m not a pervert, you lunatic!"
"That’s exactly what a pervert would say!" she screamed, swinging again with terrifying speed.
Talking was over. Ethan threw his hand out.
"Forbidden Incantation: Verdant Dominion!"
Thick, emerald-green vines erupted from the floorboards, surging like striking cobras. They coiled around the girl’s massive arms and torso before she could land another blow. She roared, trying to tear through them with sheer brute force, but the vines were magically reinforced. They tightened with every struggle, pinning her limbs and hoisting her into the air in a humiliating tangle of greenery.
"What is this stuff?! Let me go!" She thrashed, her doll-like face twisted in rage.
Ethan sighed, shaking his head. "Can we talk like adults now? If I were actually the creep you think I am, you’d be in a lot more trouble right now."
Verdant Dominion was a crowd-control spell designed for live capture—something Ethan rarely used, but it was the perfect muzzle for a pint-sized wrecking ball.
The girl went quiet for a moment, her face flushing crimson as she grit her teeth. "Fine... fine. I messed up. My name is Neve Mira. I’m here for the Grand Champion Rift."
She was a City Champion? Ethan released the spell, the vines receding into the floor. He hadn't expected the elite from other cities to be this... unhinged.
"How did you end up in my room, Neve?"
"It’s my room!" she snapped, shoving her keycard in his face. "Look! Floor six, 6099!"
Ethan took the card, glanced at it, and slowly rotated it 180 degrees.
"Is it possible," he said dryly, "that your room is actually 6609? Did the fact that the key didn't work not tip you off?"
Neve’s jaw dropped. She stared at the card, then at the shattered door, and finally at her feet. "Oh. My god."
"Yeah. 'Oh my god' is right."
"I’m so sorry," she mumbled, her bravado vanishing. "This is my first time traveling alone... I just... I panicked."
"Forget it. It’s just a door." Ethan waved it off. He wasn't the type to hold a grudge against someone who was clearly just an idiot. "What’s your class, anyway?"
Neve puffed out her chest, her pride returning. "SSS-rank: Primal Berserker."
Ethan stared at her—the ribbons, the teddy-bear bag, the pink hair. The pinker the hair, the harder the punch, he thought grimly. "Makes sense."
They walked out together, Neve stopping by the desk to awkwardly explain the 'incident' and pay for the door. She insisted on buying him dinner as an apology, and since Ethan was already headed out, he didn't refuse.
As they walked, she chatted incessantly. Neve was the Champion of Harborstone and had already been scouted by the Sovereign Academy.
"What about you?" she asked, tilting her head. "Which city? You must be a Sovereign Academy recruit too, with a lock-down spell like that."
"I’m from Verdant City," Ethan said, shrugging. "And as for the Academy... they didn't want me."
Neve stopped dead in her tracks, nearly tripping over a curb. "What?! How could they reject you? And where even is Verdant City?"
"Verdant City is a speck on the map of the Daxia Dominion," Ethan replied. "As for why they didn't want me... have you ever heard of a class called Forbidden Incantator?"
"A Forbidden Incantator?" Neve’s expression shifted instantly. The annoyance was replaced by a look of deep, crushing pity.
She knew the rumors. The cursed life, the shortened lifespan. She looked like she wanted to cry for him. I broke the door of a dying man and tried to kill him, she clearly thought. I’m a monster.
"Right! Let's not talk about sad stuff!" she blurted out, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward a nearby restaurant. "Dinner's on me! Order the most expensive thing on the menu!"
"You're making it sound like it's my last meal, Neve," Ethan muttered, though he didn't hold back once they sat down.
The restaurant was a local staple, crowded and loud. They were halfway through their meal when the atmosphere shifted. The clicking of high heels approached their table—sharp and aggressive.
"Well, well. If it isn't the little brat, Neve Mira."
A tall woman in a skin-tight black bodysuit leaned over their table. She was striking, but her expression was pure venom.
Neve’s face darkened. "Ivy Noel. I’m not in the mood for your shit today. Walk away."
Ivy laughed, a sharp, grating sound. She ignored Neve and turned her gaze toward Ethan, raking her eyes over him. "Hey there, handsome. I’m Ivy. What are you doing with this violent midget? She’s a board with no curves. If you want real company, I can introduce you to some actual women."
Ivy leaned down, intentionally lowering her neckline to give Ethan a clear view of her 'assets.'
Ethan didn't even blink. He leaned back slightly, a look of mild disgust on his face. "Could you do me a favor and step back? Your breath is rancid."
Neve snorted, spraying a mouthful of noodles directly onto Ivy’s face.
The silence that followed was heavy. Ivy stood there, noodles sliding down her cheek, her face turning a violent shade of purple. She looked ready to commit murder.
"Babe? What’s going on?"
A lean man in a tailored Versace suit stepped up to the table. He walked with an arrogant swagger, his hand immediately sliding around Ivy’s waist. He looked Ethan and Neve up and down with a cold, dismissive sneer.
Ivy wiped the noodles from her face, pointing a trembling finger at Ethan. "These losers are harassing me!"
the man’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Ethan like he was something he’d stepped in on the sidewalk. "Apologize."
Ethan didn't move.
The man’s voice dropped an octave, radiating a forced, "alpha" authority. "I won't ask again. Apologize to her. Now."
With a flick of his wrist, the man toggled his public status.
[Shane Wulfric, Seraphic Paladin, Level 22]
Neve tensed. Even Ethan felt a slight jolt of surprise. Level 22 was staggering for someone their age. Shane clearly came from one of the capital cities where resources and high-level rifts were handed out like candy.
"I get it," Shane said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You’re the 'Champions' of some backwater dirt patches. You think you’re special. You might be 'gold' where you’re from, but here? The streets are paved with gold. I’m being generous by letting you walk away with just an apology. Don't waste it."
Ethan leaned back in his chair, a relaxed, almost bored expression on his face. Shane Wulfric had the level to back up his ego, but Ethan didn't give a damn about levels.
"You done?" Ethan asked.
Shane smirked. "Ready to apologize?"
Ethan smiled back, his voice calm and pleasant. "How about you go apologize to your mother for being born?"
Shane’s face contorted. The air in the restaurant suddenly turned heavy, vibrating with holy energy. A towering, ethereal silhouette of a six-winged angel began to manifest behind him, bathing the room in a blinding, judgmental light.
"SSS-Rank! A Seraphic Paladin!" someone in the crowd gasped.
Ethan’s hand hummed. Silver-white lightning began to dance between his fingers, the arcs snapping like whips as he prepared to turn the restaurant into a crater.
Just as the two were about to clash, a booming voice cut through the tension.
"Abyssport city limits! Any Awakened found brawling will be fined thirty thousand and detained for ten days!"
An officer from the Bureau of Investigation stood at the entrance, his hand on his baton.
Shane’s holy aura flickered and died. He wasn't stupid—getting locked up right before the Grand Champion Rift was a death sentence for his career. He pulled Ivy close, leaning in to whisper a final threat to Ethan.
"I’ve got your face memorized, kid. Pray we don't cross paths in the Rift. You can't die in there, but I know plenty of ways to make you wish you could."