The world dissolved into a blinding white glare, and a heartbeat later, the stifling air of the city was gone. Ethan Lyle exhaled, his lungs filling with the sharp, pine-scented oxygen of a primeval forest. Sunlight filtered through a dense canopy, shattering into jagged shards of gold across his shoulders.
"Randomized entry," Ethan muttered, stretching his limbs until his joints popped. "Perfect. Saves me the trouble of ditching the crowd."
He didn’t waste time. He was here for one thing: the grind.
He hadn't traveled fifty yards before he encountered his first victim. It was a ball of bubblegum-pink fluff, a creature so sickeningly adorable it looked like a child's plushie brought to life. It rolled on the mossy ground, letting out a soft, rhythmic purr that would have melted the heart of any high school girl.
Ethan didn’t flinch. He recognized the threat immediately.
Level 1 Rosy Leopard Kitten.
The thing was a biological trap. Beneath that soft down lay teeth designed to snap a grown man's windpipe in a single lunge. The kitten chirped, rolling onto its back to expose a fuzzy belly, baiting him to step closer.
Ethan’s response was a cold stare and a raised hand.
"Forbidden Incantation: World-Rending Tempest."
BOOM.
The sky didn't just crack; it shattered. A pillar of white-hot lightning screamed down from the heavens. The kitten’s eyes widened, a frantic, high-pitched yowl escaping its throat—a silent plea of 'I was just hungry, is this really necessary?'—before the bolt vaporized it instantly.
[Level 1 Rosy Leopard Kitten slain. 10 XP granted.]
Ethan stared at the smoking crater where the monster had been. "Ten XP? You’ve got to be kidding me." At this rate, he’d need a hundred kills just to hit Level 2. "Too slow. My kit is entirely Forbidden tier; there's no point staying in the shallows."
He turned and plunged deeper into the emerald gloom.
"Forbidden Incantation: World-Rending Tempest!"
[Level 2 Razorwing Wasp slain. 20 XP granted.]
"World-Rending Tempest!"
[Level 3 Ashfang Wolf slain. 30 XP granted.]
"World-Rending Tempest!"
[Level 5 Jungle Harpy slain. 50 XP granted.]
The long-standing peace of the Initiate's Rift was dead. Every few minutes, the horizon flared with a blinding flash followed by a thunderclap that shook the earth. Ethan was a force of nature, a one-man extinction event. Whether it was a low-level pest or a Level 5 apex predator, his answer remained the same: a Forbidden Incantation to the face.
The more he cast, the more the magic felt like an extension of his own will. The "casting delay" began to vanish, the lightning responding to his thoughts before he could even finish the mental command.
Within an hour, a golden chime echoed in his mind.
He had hit Level 2. Most students would take a day of careful party-play to reach this milestone. Ethan had done it alone, nuking everything in his path. And with the level came a new toy.
[Name: Ethan Lyle]
[Class: Forbidden Incantator]
[[Rank] 2 (9.2%)]
[[Strength] 21 | Agility: 24 | Spirit: 54]
[Threat Level] 2 / 5
[Class Talent: Infinite Hex Protocol — Unlock one Forbidden Incantation per level.]
[Skills: World-Rending Tempest, Samsara Burn]
He focused on the new entry.
[Forbidden Incantation: Samsara Burn]
Effect: The Incantator combusts their own life force to drastically amplify Strength, Agility, and Spirit.
Note: This skill consumes vitality at a lethal rate. This loss is permanent and irreversible. Exercise extreme caution.
Ethan read the warning. He nodded solemnly, then shouted, "Samsara Burn!"
Crimson flames erupted from his pores. It wasn't fire from an external source; it was his very blood being flash-vaporized into mana. The agony was sharp, but the power was intoxicating. His Spirit stat surged, doubling instantly to a staggering 120.
"Terrifying," he whispered, his voice sounding suddenly raspy. "With this active, a Level 10 monster wouldn't stand a chance against my lightning."
He was so caught up in the raw power that he barely noticed the physical toll. His dark hair bleached to a brittle white. His skin sagged, wrinkling into a roadmap of old age. His clear eyes grew cloudy and dim. In less than five minutes, the teenager had become a withered husk, an old man at death's door.
He lifted a hand that looked like gnarled tree bark. "Five minutes to reach old age? Right. If I want to keep my cover, I can only burst this for sixty seconds at a time."
But he didn't turn it off. He let it burn.
Suddenly, his flesh began to knit back together. The wrinkles smoothed out; the grey hair regained its obsidian sheen. His Undying Constitution roared to life, pouring infinite vitality into the void left by the spell.
The Forbidden Incantator was a broken class meant to kill its user. Undying Constitution was a broken talent that made death impossible. Together, they made Ethan Lyle a god in the making.
"Time to pick up the pace."
With Samsara Burn active and his Spirit boosted to 130 thanks to Principal Gao’s ring, his "minor" lightning bolts transformed into world-ending dragons of plasma. He tore through the forest like a localized apocalypse.
[Level 5 Twin-Fang Serpent slain. 50 XP.]
[Level 6 Ironplate Scorpion slain. 60 XP.]
[Level 6 Centaur slain. 60 XP.]
He didn't fight. He erased. The scent of ozone and charred meat followed in his wake. As night began to fall, he paused, wiping sweat from his brow.
"This Rift is supposed to be dangerous?" he chuckled. "Best workout I've had in years."
"Forbidden Incantation: Karmic Inferno!"
Ethan barked the command, and a flickering lotus of violet-red flame bloomed in his palm. He didn't toss it at a monster. He tossed it onto a pile of dry sticks.
Using a Forbidden-tier spell to start a campfire was the magical equivalent of using a nuclear warhead to light a cigarette, but Ethan didn't care. He had hit Level 3, unlocking this Abyss-borne fire, and he was hungry.
The XP requirements were scaling—1,000 for Level 2, 2,000 for Level 3, and 3,000 for the next. Still, he was confident he’d hit Level 10 before the Rift closed.
He dragged a dead Trioptic Dire Boar to the fire, expertly butchered a haunch, and propped it over the violet flames. The meat sizzled instantly. The Karmic Inferno burned hotter than any natural fire, rendering the fat into a golden, delicious crust.
As he bit into the succulent, steaming meat, Ethan felt a rare moment of peace. Growing up in the Hollows, he’d lived on scraps, always hiding his immortality, always hungry. Now, he was an Awakened. The days of hiding were almost over.
He finished his meal, kicked dirt over the embers, and—just to be safe—pissed on the remains of the fire to ensure no forest fires would start on his watch. He wasn't a monster, after all.
Ten minutes after he vanished back into the trees, a shadow flickered into the clearing.
Nira Ashford skidded to a halt, her eyes wide. As a Pyromage, she had felt the ripple of high-level fire mana from a mile away.
"There shouldn't be anyone else in Verdant City with SSS-rank fire affinity," she whispered, searching the clearing. "Could it be a hidden treasure? Or a world boss?"
She knelt by the dead fire, picking up a half-burnt branch. She sniffed it, then recoiled, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"This is definitely the aura of Karmic Flame... but why does it smell like... ammonia?"
She shook the thought away, her excitement growing. "Verdant City has a hidden master. Someone who hides their power." She stood up, her eyes flashing with competitive fire. "I’ll find you. Whoever you are, you're much more interesting than that stubborn idiot Ethan Lyle."
She picked up the trail and began to run.
"World-Rending Tempest!"
Ethan was back in the zone. He preferred the lightning for hunting; it was cleaner. The lightning killed instantly, whereas the fire took a few agonizing seconds to finish the job. He liked to think of himself as a merciful hunter.
He was nearing Level 4 when he heard footsteps.
He immediately cut Samsara Burn. The blood-red shroud vanished. He knew it wasn't a monster; the rhythm was too human.
First came a pair of long, pale legs, followed by a cold, striking face framed by raven hair. Nira Ashford stepped into the moonlight, looking like a battle-goddess. Ethan sighed. Of all the people to run into in a Rift this size...
"Ethan? What are you doing here?" Nira’s face fell, her excitement replaced by immediate irritation.
She stared at him, her mind quickly connecting the dots in the most arrogant way possible. Of course, she thought. He realized his 'Forbidden' class was a death sentence for a solo player. He’s been following me, hoping I'd take pity on him.
"I told you," she said, her voice icy. "That class isn't for solo play. It’s too late to regret it now. Following me won't work—I don't have time to carry a burden. Get out of my way, I'm tracking someone important."
She looked at him with genuine disdain. She had given him a chance back at the school, and he’d thrown it in her face. Now that things were hard, he was back to play the sycophant? She hated men who couldn't keep their word.
Ethan blinked, genuinely stunned by the sheer mental gymnastics required to reach that conclusion. She had tracked him down, and now he was the stalker?
He realized then that Nira Ashford didn't just have a one-track mind. She was missing several tracks entirely.