"Be my guest. Don't let the brush hit you on the way out."
Ethan Lyle stepped aside, clearing the path with a dismissive wave. He had long ago adopted a simple philosophy for a peaceful life: never argue with idiots, and certainly never try to reason with them. It was a rule that had served him well, and Nira Ashford was currently the walking embodiment of why it existed.
Nira shot him a sharp, suspicious look. Finding him unexpectedly cooperative, she didn't waste breath on a retort and marched past him into the treeline.
Ethan exhaled, thinking he’d finally shed the headache, but Nira’s boots suddenly crunched to a halt.
"One more thing," she said, her voice dropping into a tone of forced casualness that poorly hid her intensity. "Did you see anyone else pass through here? Someone… powerful. A fire specialist. Likely a master of the Karmic Flame." Her eyes shimmered with a transparent sort of hope.
Karmic Flame?
Ethan nearly choked on his own spit. He finally understood why she had been hovering around his clearing. He’d used a legendary, world-ending incantation just to get a stubborn campfire going. To her, it was the signature of a hidden grandmaster; to him, it was a glorified Zippo.
"Oh, him?" Ethan gestured vaguely toward a thicket in the opposite direction. "Yeah, saw a guy. Ruggedly handsome, moved like a shadow. He headed that way, looking like he was in a hurry."
Anything to get her moving. He made a mental note to bench the Karmic Inferno for a while. Using a Forbidden Incantation for basic survival was proving to be a logistical nightmare.
"Thank you."
The frost in Nira’s demeanor thawed—just a fraction. Satisfied that Ethan wasn't trying to cling to her, she vanished into the woods toward the false trail.
The forest grew unnaturally still. High above, the canopy shifted, and for a moment, it looked as though three moons had aligned in the midnight sky.
Nira stopped dead. Her blood turned to ice.
Those weren't moons. The two new orbs were massive, glowing pupils slitted with ancient malice.
A roar shattered the silence, a physical shockwave that flattened the surrounding ferns. A claw the size of a carriage slammed down exactly where Nira had been standing a split second before. She threw herself into a jagged roll, gasping as she scrambled to her feet to face the nightmare.
"A Dragonblood Colossus..." her voice trembled. "Level 8?"
They were nowhere near the forest's core. An apex predator like this had no business hunting in the outskirts. Nira was barely Level 3; against a Level 8 Colossus, she wasn't a combatant—she was an appetizer.
Panic flared. She looked back toward Ethan’s clearing. If they doubled up, maybe they could distract it long enough to—
The clearing was empty. Ethan Lyle had vanished as if he’d never existed.
"That coward!" she hissed, her teeth gritted so hard they ached. The slight respect she’d felt for him evaporated instantly. He’d clearly heard the roar and bolted at the first sign of real danger.
The Colossus lunged again, its mountain-like frame moving with terrifying, fluid speed.
"Phoenix Burst!"
Nira didn't hold back. Orbs of white-hot fire coalesced around her, screaming through the air to impact the beast's chest. The explosions were deafening, charring patches of its reinforced scales, but the damage was superficial. Instead of slowing it down, the heat only served to whip the beast into a killing frenzy.
Its eyes bled from gold to a murderous crimson. It opened its maw, and a second roar—this one laced with draconic resonance—tore through the air.
The sonic boom hit Nira’s fireballs mid-flight, detonating them prematurely and sending the backdraft slamming into her.
"No!"
She had no time to brace. The force hurled her backward through a thicket of briars. Her reinforced gear shredded, the protective enchantments failing as the fabric tore away, leaving her exposed and battered.
She stared up at the towering shadow of the beast. For the first time in her life, the concept of death wasn't an abstract statistic. It was right there, smelling of sulfur and rot. She was a SSS-class Awakened, a prodigy of her generation, and she was about to be crushed into the dirt on day one of the Initiate’s Rift.
As the Colossus raised its massive talons for the final strike, Nira closed her eyes.
"Karmic Inferno."
The voice wasn't a shout. It was a low, resonant murmur that seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of her bones.
A wave of heat, so intense it felt like the sun had descended into the clearing, roared past her. Nira snapped her eyes open to a vision of hellfire.
The Colossus—the invincible, Level 8 juggernaut—wasn't just burning. It was being erased. Red-violet flames clung to its hide like living parasites, turning flesh, bone, and scale into gray ash in a matter of seconds. It didn't even have time to scream.
One hit. A total erasure.
Standing between her and the pile of cooling ash was a man silhouetted by the dying embers of the violet flame. He stood with his back to her, wreathed in a faint, blood-red aura.
Nira’s heart hammered against her ribs, but the terror was gone, replaced by a dizzying, electric rush of adrenaline.
The Karmic Flame. The man she’d been looking for.
While Ethan Lyle had tucked tail and run, this stranger had stepped out of the shadows to annihilate a Calamity-class beast with a flick of his wrist. He was the literal embodiment of the power she craved.
"Wait!" Nira scrambled up, her voice uncharacteristically soft, almost breathless. "Please… you saved my life. I need to know who you are."
The figure didn't turn. He wore a dark wrap over the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes visible in the gloom—eyes that looked bored by the destruction they’d just caused.
Ethan looked at her, then looked away. He needed a name. Something that didn't link back to a 'cowardly' student.
"Ashveil," he said, his voice muffled by the cloth. "Just Ashveil."
"Ashveil..." Nira repeated the name, tasting it.
She watched him turn to leave, a desperate urge to follow him tugging at her. "Which academy are you from? I have to repay this debt!"
Ethan didn't stop. He just raised a hand, dismissively waving her off as he strode toward the deeper darkness of the forest. "Don't bother. It was a distraction, nothing more."
"Ashveil, wait!"
He stopped then, but only to cast a cold glance over his shoulder. "Don't follow me. The things deeper in are well beyond your pay grade. And for heaven's sake… put some clothes on."
Nira looked down. Her face went from pale to a nuclear shade of crimson. Her combat suit was in tatters, leaving very little to the imagination. By the time she had crouched down to cover herself with the remnants of her cloak, the man was gone.
"Ashveil!" she shouted into the empty woods. "I’ll find you! I'm going to stand at your side one day—just you wait!"
There was no answer but the wind.
Nira sat there for a long moment, her pride stinging more than her scratches. She had always been the one people looked up to, the one people chased. But tonight, she’d been nothing but a 'drag' to a man who didn't even care to look at her twice.
It wasn't just attraction; it was a fixation. She wouldn't be a damsel again. She would hit Level 10 before this Rift closed. She would prove to Ashveil that she was worth noticing.
Safe in the deep brush, Ethan Lyle ripped the cloth from his face and exhaled.
"That should keep the idiot off my scent," he muttered.
Setting up the 'Ashveil' persona was a necessity. Nira Ashford was a SSS-class asset; if she died, the Verdania authorities would turn this Rift inside out looking for answers. The last thing Ethan wanted was a high-level forensic investigation into his Undying Constitution. Saving her was just damage control.
Besides, the Colossus had been the perfect sacrifice.
A holographic window shimmered into existence before him.
[Name: Ethan Lyle]
[Class: Forbidden Incantator]
[[Rank] 4 (1%)]
[[Strength] 34 | Agility: 67 | Spirit: 140]
[Stamina] 108/162
[Skills Unlocked:]
1. World-Rending Tempest
2. Samsara Burn
3. Karmic Inferno
4. Deathless Ward (NEW)
Ethan scrolled down to the description of his new toy.
[Forbidden Incantation: Deathless Ward]
The Incantator sacrifices two and a half years of their remaining lifespan to negate a single instance of fatal damage.
(Note: As a Forbidden Incantator, all costs and cooldowns are waived.)
Ethan’s face soured. "Are you kidding me? This is useless."
He already had Undying Constitution. He literally couldn't die. Why would he need a spell that 'negated' death when death was already off the table? It was a redundant slot.
He moved to close the menu, but then he paused. A slow, predatory grin spread across his face.
"Wait. This isn't a defensive skill. This is the perfect alibi."
His mind raced. If he got stabbed through the heart in front of witnesses and walked away, people would scream 'Anomaly' or 'Monster.' But now? Now he had an excuse.
“Oh, that? Yeah, I just used a Forbidden Incantation to trade two years of my life for a save. Totally normal, very expensive, please don’t look into it.”
It was the ultimate smoke screen. He wasn't just an unkillable god anymore; he was a 'tragic' mage who stayed alive through sheer, costly sacrifice.
"Perfect," Ethan chuckled, disappearing further into the night. "Absolutely perfect."