[The Night Is Coming!]
[Checking The Status Of Players…]
[You Are: A Mystical Being…]
[Personal Quest Are Being Generated…]
Night Quests:
Prove Yourself!
Description:
You have one hour to prepare for the System Challenge.
Survive and triumph, and the System will reward you.]
Seraph read the notification with little surprise.
He had expected this.
The System may have felt lifeless, but it had been evolving since Day One, subtly at first, but unmistakably over time. To Seraph, this wasn't odd. If anything, it felt familiar, like something straight out of the countless transmigration and system novels he had read in his past life.
"Giving personal quests now, huh?" He muttered, watching the glowing interface float in his vision.
After all, this wasn't his first.
He still remembered the process of his previous personal quest, the removal of one of 'his' inherited Titles.
At the time, it hadn't felt like much of a reward. But in hindsight, Seraph understood it for what it truly was:
A lifeline.
The System had intervened, severing his direct connection to the original Mythical identity he had intentionally inherited.
Even now, a faint thread of that connection lingered within him. Dormant and weak. But undeniably present.
And just like in the novels he once read…
That thread could be awakened. Not from within, but from the outside.
If someone were to offer prayer to the Winged Lord, not to him, not to Seraph, then the remnants of that old Will would stir again.
And it would try to reclaim the body.
That's what happened on the first night after he inherited the Mythical status.
When the cultists chanted in blind devotion, they didn't call Seraph's name.
They were calling 'Him'.
The headaches.
The surge of unfamiliar memories.
The sudden spikes of emotion that weren't his.
It wasn't exhaustion.
It was a resonance with the Winged Lord's lingering Will.
A dying Myth, still trying to claw its way back to life through his body.
That's why Seraph had killed every last cultist on the island after failing to redirect their belief.
Not out of cruelty.
But out of necessity.
With the System's help, a new Mythical Title had been forged, one truly bound to Seraph alone.
A clean slate. And a proper anchor.
That was the real reward.
If the System hadn't forcefully deleted the inherited title tied to the original Winged Lord, Seraph would've been devoured from within.
He wouldn't just die, he would be reduced to a mere puppet ruled by lingering faith or even replaced from the inside. Thankfully, the System quietly severed that fate, granting Seraph a new, untainted title.
Even if there is still a problem with this control over his body. He owed the System more than he liked to admit.
But he thought again, 'Or maybe not?'
Who was the one that told him to inherit the mythical status? The System.
And he almost died in the process.
But well, Seraph is alive and that is all that matters.
Now, as he waited for the next challenge, curiosity stirred beneath the surface of his calm.
'What will this quest give me this time…?'
A moment later, the System responded.
[Select Difficulties: ]
> Low
Description:
With your status as base, You will face 80 monsters and 1 Unique.
Each Monster will have 3 Single-lined classes with at least 80 percent progression.
And the unique monster will have two of Double-lined classes of high-grade, with fifty percent progression.
Reward:
10 Single Lined Class Card Of Your Choice(Selected From Monster Classes), 3 Blank Card(Can Hold Extraordinary Characteristic), Various Materials of Low Level Extraordinary Characteristic, 3 Weapon Of Your Choice(1 Rare, 2 Uncommon), A Small Chance Gaining Two Lined Class Card, And A Small Chance Of Dropping Another Personal Skill Book.
> Medium
Description:
With your status as base, You will face fifty monsters and 1 unique.
The monster will have 3 classes with a blend of Single and Double-lined classes of low and medium-grade quality, the progress of the classes will be random but higher than Sixty percent progression.
And the Unique Monster will have three classes of, one Double-lined class of high-grade, one Double-lined class of low-grade and one, Single-lined class. Each class progression will be above 80 percent.
Reward:
10 Class Card(Draw A Mix Of Single And Double Lined Class; The Double Lined Class Has Smaller Percentage), Five Blank Card, Various Material Of Medium Level Extraordinary, 3 Equipment Of Your Choice(All Rare), Big Chance Gaining Unique Monster Classes, And High Chance Gaining Another Personal Skill Book.
> High
Description:
With Your Status As Base, You will face twenty five monsters and 1 unique.
Each Monster will have 3 classes, a blend of two Double-lined high-grade classes and one, Single-lined classes. The progression will be random, but one of the classes will have maxed progression while others are above fifty percent progression.
The Unique Monster will have 3 classes, 1 Three-Lined Class of higher end, and 2 high-grade Double-lined classes. One class will have maximum progression and the other two will be above 80 percent progression.
Reward:
10 Double Lined Class Card(Random Classes From Monsters Killed), 10 Blank Cards, Various Material Of Rare Level Extraordinary, Five Equipment Of Your Choice(Rare), One Unique Monsters Class Are Guaranteed Drop, And A Skill You Need.
…
Seraph carefully scanned the System's descriptions, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on the class distinctions.
From what he'd observed, Single-lined classes were foundational, basic, simple yet practical, accessible paths like Fighter, Archer, or Mage. Easy to grasp, but limited in potential.
Then came the Double-lined classes, clearly a step above. These offered specialized skills and more significant power, requiring dedication to master. Classes such as Sea Blessed, Deep Hunter, Blade Master, or Storm Weaver fell into this category, less common, but valuable for those willing to commit.
And finally, there were the Three-lined classes. These represented the pinnacle of power. Exceptionally rare and always formidable, these classes were reserved for beings whose very existence influenced entire battlefields.
Facing such an enemy meant confronting an entity deeply attuned to potent forces or concepts, a true battlefield tyrant.
Seraph's attention shifted back to the glowing difficulty options.
The usual rules for Class Card drops might be skewed.
But then again, when has the System ever played fair? Or is the other reward will make it fair in the eyes of the System?
He just shook his head and didn't hesitate for long, as he didn't have time to ponder for that. The fight is more important.
Then, though the highest difficulty offered fewer monsters overall, each opponent would be significantly more dangerous, each with multiple, high-grade classes. The Unique Monster alone carried a Three-lined class, marking it as an apex predator in this corner of the Mystic Sea.
Dangerous, undoubtedly.
But the rewards…
His gaze lingered on one line in particular.
"A Skill You Need."
That was all the reason he needed.
[Difficulty Selected: High]
A low pulse ran through the system interface as the countdown appeared at the corner of his vision.
[Challenge Countdown: 57 Minutes 43 Seconds]
The soft lapping of waves outside seemed to quiet, as if the sea itself held its breath.
Seraph stared quietly at the countdown, but his mind drifted elsewhere.
He recalled vividly the agony of assimilating the Mythical status from 'Him,' the terrifying sensation of his sense of self slowly eroding away. The resonance of memories that weren't his own still lingered beneath his consciousness, lying dormant like a sleeping predator, ready to stir at the mere whisper of that forgotten name.
Each invocation risked reawakening that fragment, gnawing further at his already-fractured concept of identity.
Seraph wasn't sure how long he could maintain stable control over his new body. Even though physically he felt fine, his inability to revert to his original form was a stark reminder that he still wasn't fully in command.
This was a silent worry, a hidden anxiety he kept from the girls, not because he didn't trust them, but because they were powerless to help beyond anchoring him emotionally.
They simply lacked the strength.
And as for Seraph himself, he didn't have any concrete solution to the problem either.
He had already spent the entire morning thinking through countless scenarios, yet no satisfactory solution presented itself. Eventually, he'd chosen to distract himself with training, and by watching other players chatting on the Global Chat, finding solace in their shared confusion.
If the countless novels he'd read had taught him anything, it was that state of mind was critically important for someone in his situation. Maintaining calm and emotional stability might be the only thing preventing a complete mental breakdown or spiritual corruption.
Whether or not that advice held true here, Seraph couldn't be certain, but at least for today, he'd managed to enjoy his day with the girls.
Moreover, despite careful probing with Spiritual and Mystic power, he found nothing obviously wrong within himself, or perhaps he simply lacked the proper techniques. After all, today was only his first genuinely stable day since becoming a Mythical being.
Seraph took a long, calming breath.
'There's no need to rush,' He reminded himself gently.
This was merely day one, he lacked experience, resources, and knowledge.
Even though the System had clearly hinted at something urgent with that final reward line, Seraph had little choice but to trust in its guidance. And the only obvious issue he could think of was the remnant of 'His' Mythical will, the lingering connection within him.
Aside from that faint but troubling presence, his body felt perfect.
For now, he would simply follow the path the System laid out.
At least until he gained enough strength to seize control for himself.
Seraph eyes fall to the countdown again.
[Challenge Countdown: 53 Minutes 13 Seconds]
Plenty of time.
Closing his eyes, he let his consciousness extend outward. His Spirit sense rippled through the camp like invisible waves, threading through the quiet night.
It didn't take long for him to notice it, a faint distortion just outside the girls' sleeping area.
'Hmm? This is… a spell node?'
He focused further. The air around them was thick with subtle spiritual interference. Nothing malicious, but certainly present. A dome of soft silence, woven into a concealment layer. It was a spell, several of them, layered and cast clumsily.
"…Kei," He muttered under his breath.
Low-level spells. And with his personal skill, he can see the spell's name. Alarm, silence and conceal. He could almost picture Kei's small hands forming the runes in his mind, her brows furrowed with concentration. It wasn't strong enough to fully block his senses, not even close, but it was well-intentioned.
After confirming there were no intrusions or danger nearby, Seraph relaxed and pulled his aura back. A warm sense of gratitude flickered within him. Even without knowing what he planned to do, they still tried to give him space and peace.
He then sent a chat from the group toward them, his words carried more emotion than he can think.
Seraph: "You girls' can sleep. I'll take care of things tonight."
And they answered with two 'Okay.' and three 'Yes Lord.'
Seraph just smiled.
Having a companion in this new world is truly heaven blessing.
But for now.
There are several monsters he needs to slay.
His eyes become sharp, and the air shifts with his battle intent.
With a faint exhale, Seraph moved.
His steps were silent as he walked past the camp, careful not to disturb anything. The moonlight painted silver trails on the sand as he made his way to the shore where the sea met the cursed edges of the island.
The wind carried salt and silence.
He looked out into the vast dark sea, then planted his blade into the sand.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Above him, the moon had risen, large, round, and pale, its light cascading across the sea in rippling silver threads. It hung there like an eye, quietly watching him, bathing his figure in ghostly brilliance as if bearing silent witness to what was to come.
A breeze stirred the edge of his coat. The sea, for now, was still and quiet.
But Seraph could feel it, an eerie hum lingering beneath the waves. The air had shifted, just slightly. It carried a strange tension, like the sharp stillness before a storm breaks. The scent of salt turned heavier. Ominous.
He closed his eyes and sat cross-legged beside his blade, letting his breath steady.
If he wanted to meet this battle at full strength, he would need to center himself.
So he chose to meditate.
Time slowed.
The distant cries of insects faded. Even the wind seemed to mute itself, as if the entire world respected this brief moment of preparation. Within his body, spiritual power flowed steadily. Aura settled like a mantle on his shoulders, weightless but immense, cloaking him in silent dominance.
He breathed in the sea air, the scent of salt and chaos.
He exhaled power.
… …
Time slipped away like sand through fingers.
[Challenge Countdown: 0 Minutes 9 Seconds]
Then,
Something stirred.
Seraph's eyes snapped open, Blue reflecting silver.
Out in the water, ripples formed.
From the deep, the shadows rose.
Not human silhouettes, but lithe, predatory forms that glided just beneath the surface like submerged nightmares. Their eyes were the first to break the veil, bioluminescent slits gleaming with primal intent, scanning the shore with unnerving focus.
Then came the bodies.
Galuga.
Panther-like in shape but unmistakably alien. Their slick, scaled forms crept from the tide with fluid grace, each movement a seamless blend of beast and current. Three tails rippled behind them, two lashing like serpentine limbs, the third tipped with hard, glowing crystal.
Some hovered at the edge of the surf, their tails arched, crackling faintly with water-aspect spiritual energy. Others crouched low, their muscles taut, and the claws digging into wet sand.
The same breed of monsters he had fought on the Second night.
But this time… They didn't come as strays.
They came as an army.
One after another, they broke through the waterline with calm, purposeful movements.
More than twenty of them. Most were the size of Seraph, broad-shouldered with coral-lined armor fused into their flesh. But a few were smaller, slender forms with their tails shimmered in spiritual power and runes etched into their skin.
Seraph narrowed his eyes.
Magicians? He guessed.
There were also others whose presence was faint, their shadows flickering unnaturally in the moonlight.
Assassins.
His [Extraordinary Senses] flared, and the system painted faint identifiers above their heads.
[Galuga - Deep Warrior]
[Galuga - Deep Magician]
[Galuga - Sea Blessed]
[Galuga - Sea Assassin]
[Galuga - Dark Hunter]
[Galuga - Deep Hunter]
…
Seraph knew better than to assume this was all they were.
The scan showed only their main class, the strongest path they had mastered, but each of them could possess multiple others, just like the challenge explained. And definitely, their strength couldn't be underestimated.
And then,
The water split.
The sea parted, not with violence, but with reverence. As if answering the will of a dominant apex.
From the depths, a colossal shape surfaced, graceful yet dreadful.
Its presence felt like the eye of a storm, not in peace, but a pause of frozen storm.
The kind that warned something greater was coming.
Nearly five meters tall from snout to tail tip, its body rippled with muscle beneath glossy midnight-blue scales. Faint bioluminescent lines traced along its flanks and tails, pulsing like heartbeat veins beneath ocean skin.
Its three tails unfurled behind it, two sweeping like bladed limbs, sinuous and unnaturally flexible. The third, heavier and straighter, ended in a jagged, crystal core that shimmered with cold power, channeling ocean current and pressure like a conductor of primal will.
This was no mere soldier.
This was dominion made flesh.
Its gaze alone made the other Galuga stand still, their bodies lowering slightly, not in fear, but in instinctual deference.
[Galuga - Deep Sea Warlord]
Three-Lined Class And… Level Two Extraordinary.
Even before the scan revealed its title, Seraph could feel it.
This was no ordinary enemy.
The aura it radiated was suffocating, calm, composed, and yet brimming with violent promise. It wasn't just powerful.
It was to be respected, feared and obeyed.
And then, stepping from each side of the warlord's wake, came two more figures.
Taller than the average Galuga but still dwarfed by their Warlord, two distinct figures emerged near the front of the formation. Their bodies were sleek yet muscular, ocean-hardened frames rippling with coiled strength.
Their scales shimmered with a deep indigo hue, and etched across their chests were ceremonial markings, runes etched in jagged scars and coral-like growths that pulsed faintly with internal power.
Unlike the others, their central tails bore larger crystal cores at the tip, shaped unnaturally smooth like carved spears. The other two tails flexed and shifted restlessly behind them, each one moving with unnerving precision, curling, twitching, and flicking like sentient whips awaiting command.
They didn't need armor or weapons.
Their bodies and tails were the weapons.
[Galuga - War General]
High End Double-Lined Class.
And two of them.
Seraph's gaze narrowed. These weren't ordinary elites. These were tactical enforcers, battlefield generals capable of commanding squads, synchronizing attacks, and bending battlefield flow to their will.
Their presence wasn't just intimidating, it was orchestrated dominance. He could feel it in the silence between their breaths, in the tension in their tails.
They would not break formation.
They would lead it.
This wasn't a horde. It was an army.
One with a chain of command.
One that recognized hierarchy.
One that came to wage war.
Seraph slowly tightened his grip on his Aura. His heart was pounding with excitement. This wasn't just a clash of power anymore. It was a battle of leadership.
Unfortunately he doesn't have an army just yet.
One day, maybe Seraph would command an army of his own. But not tonight.
Tonight, he was the last line standing on this shore.
With a light smile, he allowed his Aura to flare outward, not violently, but with precision. The grey light shimmered like smoke, wrapping around him and amplifying his presence. The beach trembled beneath his stance.
The Warlord stared at him. Eyes of abyssal depth locked with Seraph's glowing bluest silver ones.
Seraph stood.
He drew both greatswords in silence, his aura unfurling around him like a grey flame laced with silver sparks. It pulsed once, then clung to his body like armor.
The atmosphere thickened.
He took a single step forward.
The sand beneath him cracked from the pressure of his will.
His voice cut through the moonlit silence.
"I'm here."
Using his skill.
And then, with one more step, he pointed a blade at the advancing army.
"So… Come to me."
The sea exploded.
Monsters roared as the Galuga charged, blades and claws and magic tearing toward the shoreline.
And Seraph, A Myth with swords in hand, with Aura blazing in defiance…
Met them head-on.