The outskirts of Lucariaus were as wretched as rumours claimed.
I walked the muddy roads in silence, boots caked with filth, the stench of unwashed bodies and stagnant water clogging my nostrils. Here, among the crumbling shacks and makeshift tents, the weak and desperate clung to survival like rats in the shadows of a palace. The heart of the greatest human nation lay just beyond the towering gates to the east—a city of magic, order, and ambition. But out here?
Out here, survival was the only law.
It had been fourteen days since my arrival in Nytherra. The world still felt alien in some ways, yet familiar in others. The ruined town I first awakened in was far behind me now, and with each passing day, more fragments of my past returned—flashes of memories, stray emotions, habits I didn't remember learning.
I had also come to understand more about the system. It didn't guide me. It didn't offer quests or wisdom or a friendly voice. It simply was—a quiet force that observed, analysed, and rewarded. A cold partner in my journey through this brutal world.
The only way to grow stronger here was through experience points. And there were only two known ways to earn them.
The first: incapacitation. Knocking enemies unconscious earned experience, but barely.
The second: death.
And that one... paid in full.
A scream tore through the air, yanking me from my thoughts. A woman's voice—shrill, terrified, echoing down the alleys like a death knell.
I turned.
Five men encircled an elderly woman and a girl, perhaps ten or eleven. The men wore mismatched armour, patches of rust clinging to their weapons. Bandits. The kind that preyed on the weak because they had nothing.
Around them, people passed by without a word, without even a glance. As if this scene were as common as the sunrise.
I could've walked away too.
But I didn't.
Not because I was a hero.
Because I needed the experience.
Gripping the knife at my waist, I dashed forward, my body moving before thought could catch up. One of the bandits turned, eyes widening, blade rising—but too late. I ducked low, spun, and rammed my knife into his throat. Blood sprayed in an arc as I yanked it free.
[You have defeated the enemy.]
I caught his falling body, tore the sword from his slackened grip, and twisted to meet the second. The stolen blade plunged into his chest, piercing his heart in a single strike. Another step, another throw—my knife embedded in the third man's skull.
[You have defeated the enemy.]
[You have levelled up.]
[You have defeated the enemy.]
My body moved with unnatural precision. There was no hesitation. My muscles reacted like they remembered something I didn't. Was it the system? Or some instinct buried in my soul?
A rush of wind snapped through the air. I barely ducked in time as a gust of slicing mana roared past me, carving a chunk from the wall beside me.
An elemental user.
Of the two remaining, one had backed up, hands glowing faintly as he gathered mana for another wind spell. His companion looked torn between running and standing his ground.
"Too slow," I muttered.
My palm flared. Fire burst from my fingertips, roaring forward like a wild beast. It engulfed the caster in a storm of flame. His screams echoed off the alley walls before they were cut short.
[You have defeated the enemy.]
The last bandit froze, paralysed by fear. His eyes met mine, pleading, confused.
The knife found its mark between his eyes.
[You have defeated the enemy.]
[You have levelled up.]
[You have reached Level 10.]
[HP and MP restored.]
[You have met the requirements.]
[You have received a Dungeon Key.]
A new notification blinked across my vision: a small, silver key spinning slowly in mid-air before it faded into my inventory.
Level 10. So this is what it feels like.
Then, my gaze fell to the bodies at my feet.
Five more lives taken.
Yet I felt nothing.
No regret. No guilt. No satisfaction.
But something was changing. Slowly, bit by bit, emotions I thought were lost were creeping back, just like the fragments of my past.
I looked down at the bloodied weapon in my hand. A strange sensation spread through me—not fatigue, not satisfaction.
Something else.
Another thing I had discovered in the last few days—every time I stored a weapon into my inventory, the system engraved that weapon's intermediate-level mastery into my body. Knowledge flowed into my mind like muscle memory, letting me wield it with eerie familiarity.
And now, this blade felt like an extension of my arm.
More than that, I could feel the fire in my core resonate with the weapon. My mana infused into it almost instinctively, strengthening its edge, reinforcing its durability. I hadn't done it consciously. It just... happened.
The power in this world came not just from magic, but from how well one adapted.
Then, I heard it.
A small voice.
"Thank you…"
I turned. The girl was clutching her mother, both trembling. The woman bowed slightly, cautious, still afraid despite what I'd done.
"I haven't seen you around before," the woman said slowly. "You must be heading toward the city, right? We have some food with us. It's not much, but… please take it. As our thanks."
I stared at them.
They were offering what little they had to a stranger. To someone who had just spilt blood in front of them.
"You live nearby?"
"Yes. Just at the end of this alley."
"I need a bath," I said bluntly.
They blinked, confused.
Then the woman smiled gently. "Of course. You're welcome to use our place."
Their home was little more than a shack, the wood worn down by time and weather. But it had walls, a roof, and a basin of water. I cleaned myself in silence, flames from my hand drying my damp clothes in seconds.
When I stepped into the main room, I saw a simple meal placed on the floor. There were no chairs, no table. The food was basic—vegetables, a bit of bread, and a weak broth—but it smelled warm.
I sat cross-legged. "Aren't you going to eat?"
"We—"
The mother cut in. "We already ate. This is just for you."
"No," I interrupted. A small flame danced at my fingertip. "Either you both eat with me… or ."
They stared at me for a moment.
Then, they sat.
And we ate together, quiet, humble bites in silence.
It wasn't a feast.
But for the first time in this world…
It was warm.