The Rashanz Species was just one among the countless scattered across the Story World—some said thousands, others believed the number couldn't even be counted. From Humans, the most dominant force due to their sheer numbers and adaptability, to Dragons born with monstrous power and unrivaled physical might, to Elves, the elegant masters of the Arts to the Silvers, strongest known species in the Story World—each one had carved out a legacy of its own.
The Rashanz looked humanoid in form, but their skin set them apart, with a striking caste system divided by four distinct colors:
Red—the most common skin tone among the Rashanz. Red-skinned individuals made up the majority of the population, the workers, the peasants, the forgotten. They were the foundation of Rashanz society, and thus, the most burdened.
Blue—the color of order. Blue-skinned Rashanz were often born into slightly wealthier families—merchants, soldiers, artisans. Stronger and more durable than their red counterparts, they were a natural fit for the military and guards.
Violet—the color of nobility. Rare and refined, violet-skinned Rashanz were the elite: the nobles, ministers, and clan heads. They ruled from estates that touched the clouds, separated from the common dirt that stained the rest of the world.
And finally, the rarest of all—Black. A color both feared and revered. Only a handful of black-skinned Rashanz existed, and every single one belonged to the Emperor's bloodline. These were the royals, seen as untouchable by others. The Emperor, his heirs, and his secretive court—all bore this midnight hue.
This hierarchy was embedded deep into the Fragment's narrative and into the culture of the Rashanz themselves. Every glance, every law, every act was colored by it.
And for Players entering this world… understanding this system wasn't just useful—it was survival.
Aside from the rigid color-based hierarchy, the Rashanz Species also displayed a number of physical variations that helped further define their societal roles and personal capabilities.
One such variation was the number of arms. While most humanoid races were limited to two, the Rashanz had evolved differently:
Red Rashanz and Violet Rashanz were restricted to two arms—never more, never less. This reflected their place in society: Reds as the working class, expected to remain functional but limited, and Violets as nobles, refined and elegant, their strength lying in influence, not excess.
Blue Rashanz and Black Rashanz, however, could be born with either two or four arms. There were no instances of three arms or anything beyond four, unless due to injury or deformity. Among the Blues, four arms often meant promotion to elite military units, while in Blacks, it was seen as a blessing.
But perhaps the most vital feature of the Rashanz was their horns.
Each and every Rashanz was born with two horns, curved or straight, thick or thin, always sprouting from the sides of the head. These horns were not merely decorative—they were critical organs, deeply tied to a Rashanz's life force, mental stability, and energy control.
Losing one horn often meant a grievous, near-fatal injury, one that would take months—if not years—to recover from, leaving the Rashanz permanently weakened.
Losing both horns was the same as death. No Rashanz could survive it. Their body would collapse almost instantly, as if the soul had been severed from the flesh.
In combat, to shatter a Rashanz's horn was a declaration of dominance. In court, horn decorations were used to show status.
To touch another Rashanz's horns without permission was seen as a profound insult, or an invitation to fight.
Altogether, these physical traits—arms and horns—combined with their color caste system, painted a picture of a deeply stratified, fiercely proud, and dangerously complex species.
For Gara and Leif, stepping into this world meant treading carefully. One wrong move, one broken horn, and even the strongest F Ranked Original Story might not save them.
...
Gara walked forward, excited at the prospect of finding a Lightning Wolf to fight. But so far, there was nothing in his path—only rocks scattered across the ground and patches of green grass here and there.
Leif didn't seem to care. He wasn't here for the thrill of battle, but for a different goal entirely—the famous Golden Lightning produced within the [Rashanz] Fragment.
The Mountain of Lightning, where that rare lightning was born, was still a bit of a distance away, but it was now starting to appear on the horizon. Leif had already bought and studied countless recordings of it, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.
The mountain wasn't particularly tall—barely 200 meters—but it felt massive. Towering, alive. From the clouds above, massive bolts of lightning slammed into its peak and ridges, over and over.
Even Gara, reckless as he could be, had to gulp in silence. He instinctively touched the blue pill that Leif had given him earlier, the one meant to protect him from being struck by lightning once they reached the mountain.
He trusted the pill to work—but still, looking at those monstrous bolts crashing down on stone and sky alike, it was hard not to feel nervous.
He shook his head, trying to push the anxious thoughts aside. Staring at the crackling lightning in the distance wasn't helping his nerves, so he focused his mind elsewhere. And then, an idea came to him, something familiar—something that helped him stay grounded in this situation.
"Hey," he called out, his voice steadying as the thought settled. "I'm gonna start planting some roots. Give me a moment, yeah?"
Leif didn't ask questions. He simply nodded and stepped aside, cloak shifting in the wind. He already knew the ins and outs of Gara's Story, [Root of All Things]. There was no need for explanation.
Gara knelt down and pressed his palm to the rocky ground, channeling his Story as a faint pulse of green energy shimmered beneath his fingers. A thin root sprouted, sinking quickly into the earth before vanishing from sight. It wasn't much to look at, but he knew better than anyone how much power was hidden beneath something so small.
He rose and dusted off his hands, then began walking again. Leif followed silently.
Every so often, Gara stopped to repeat the process—each time choosing his spot with care. Behind boulders, near grassy patches, tucked into cracks in the terrain. With every planted root, a small sense of calm returned. It wasn't just about preparing for the climb ahead; it was about staking a claim in the world around him, connecting to it, anchoring himself in this SS Ranked Fragment that felt so far beyond his rank.
By the time the base of the Mountain of Lightning loomed a little closer in the distance, he had left behind a quiet trail of roots like a hidden lifeline winding back through the landscape.
As the duo made their way across the rocky hill, Leif suddenly slowed down, his gaze drifting downward. From their elevated vantage point—nearly seventy meters high—he had spotted something nestled beneath the hill: a small village tucked quietly into the landscape. Two Blue Rashanz stood at its entrance, seemingly on guard.
Gara followed his line of sight and spoke casually, "It's just a small village. Don't worry, even the guards are only around F Rank in terms of power."
He wasn't dismissing them out of arrogance, just stating a fact. Players like Gara and Leif measured strength differently. Even so, it was worth remembering—people inside Fragments didn't need Stories to be powerful.
Native inhabitants of Fragments drew their strength from the Fragment itself. Their abilities were bound to the laws and essence of the world they lived in. The only limitation was that their power remained locked within that Fragment. Once they left, the Story System would intervene—offering them a chance to become Players, to select a Story and step into the wider Story World.
The transition wasn't simple, nor was it uniform. For some, especially those who had reached extreme levels of strength within their own Fragment—say, someone with an SSS Rank equivalent—the Story System would account for that.
They wouldn't have to begin from the lowest rank upon entering the world beyond, but neither would they retain their peak status outright. Typically, their journey would start at something like C Rank, maybe higher depending on their compatibility and what kind of Story they chose to build.
It was a reminder: strength inside a Fragment didn't always translate outside of it.
"It's small," Leif commented briefly, his tone flat as he observed the village below.
Gara nodded, barely sparing the place another glance. He didn't come here to sightsee or study the Fragment's culture. His goals were simple. He wanted to fight a few Lightning Wolves, push his limits, maybe see Leif get zapped by Golden Lightning and get a laugh out of it—and then leave. That was all.
The Fragment didn't hold any sentimental weight for him. Sure, this particular region only housed F and some E Rankers, but the [Rashanz] Fragment was still SS Ranked for a reason. There were monsters in here. Not just the kind you could fight, but the kind you'd rather never meet.
Like the two SSS Rankers who belonged to the Rashanz royal bloodline. And beyond them, the true apex of this world—the Emperor of the Rashanz Species himself. An X Ranker, both inside and outside the Fragment. A Player with an Original Story carrying the name [Rashanz Emperor].
Gara wasn't planning on sticking around long enough to see any one of those guys.
"C'mon, let's continue," Gara said, his tone casual as he stepped forward.
Leif gave a short nod and followed, but they hadn't made it more than a few minutes down the rocky path before both came to a sudden halt—frozen mid-step. They felt it.
A strong aura, unmistakably F Rank, but near the very peak of it. It surged from the right side, cutting through the terrain and moving fast—straight toward the small village they had just seen below.
"That has to be a monster," Gara muttered, narrowing his eyes. "It's close to peak F Rank..."
Leif nodded. "And it's heading for the town. We need to stop it."
"Wait... why?" Gara blinked, glancing at him, clearly confused.
"To stop it from reaching the village? To save the people?" Leif replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Gara raised an eyebrow. "And... what's that got to do with us, exactly?"
Leif turned to him, visibly puzzled by the question. "What do you mean? The guards at the entrance aren't strong enough to stop something like that. Not without serious injuries. One of them could die... maybe both. And if that happens, we don't even know if there are more guards inside. We can't just stand here and do nothing."
"True… but the question still stands—what's that got to do with us?" Gara argued, arms slightly out as if trying to reason. "We're not here to play heroes. We're here to get your rank up and get out as soon as possible."
He continued, voice calm but firm, "Besides, if we get spotted by the Rashanz, we could land ourselves in trouble. Don't forget—we're humans."
"This isn't an Open Fragment. I'd bet none of those villagers have ever even seen a human before."
"That doesn't matter," Leif shot back. "Their lives are at stake. That matters more than a few suspicious looks."
Gara exhaled and shook his head again. "It's not our job to save them. Someone else will show up. They always do in Fragments like this. And you remember what else lives in here, right? Wolves. This is still an SS Ranked Fragment."
He continued, "I get it, I would like to help as well, but it could make everything worse were we to encounter beings we're not supposed to. And the guards are there for a reason, they're F Rankers two in terms of power at least."
For a moment, Leif didn't respond. Instead, he stared directly into Gara's eyes—quiet, thoughtful, then steady. "I get it," he said at last. "You don't want to care… because…"
He trailed off. Then, his voice softened as he shifted the question, "What if that were a human village down there? Would you act the same?"
Gara froze.
He didn't answer. He couldn't.
Because he already knew the truth. If it was a human village, he wouldn't have even hesitated. He'd be the first one charging ahead, trying to drag Leif along if necessary. No questions, no doubts.
But it wasn't. They weren't humans.
And everything non-human…
Then, a familiar image entered his thoughts—a Dragon. Marcus. He wanted to be friends with him, right? He hadn't cared about his species in the least. Why?
Because Marcus was a Dragon?
Yes. Because he was a Dragon.
Not a…
Gara shut the thought down, shaking his head again. He took a slow, steady breath, then looked back at Leif.
"…Alright," he finally said, voice quieter than before. "Let's go help them."
Without waiting, he turned and sprinted toward the source of the monster's aura.
Leif didn't comment on the change of heart. He simply sighed—softly—and followed behind in silence.
Soon enough, the two reached a slope and crouched behind a massive boulder. Silently, they suppressed their auras, careful not to alert whatever was ahead. Gara leaned forward and peeked around the stone—only to freeze mid-motion. Even Leif, usually so composed and expressionless, went still beside him.
The creature before them was… wrong.
It had the body of a black tiger—powerful limbs, razor-sharp claws, leathery wings folded at its sides, and a thick tail twitching with restrained violence. But where its neck should have been, there was a human torso. The torso of a young girl.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide and vacant, endless tears streaming down her cheeks. And she was screaming—a sound not of rage, but of agony.
Neither of them moved. Neither could.
Was this the monster's true form?
Or had someone done this—forced a fusion between species in some twisted experiment?
It didn't take long to figure it out. The girl's cries made the answer painfully clear.
And that… made both Gara and Leif furious.
Their fists clenched. Their eyes sharpened. Whatever this was—it wasn't just a fight anymore. It was something that needed to be ended.
"What… is that?" Leif asked, his voice quieter than usual, almost uncertain.
Gara didn't answer right away. He couldn't. The words just wouldn't come.
Because what stood before them wasn't just a monster—it was a nightmare made real.
This wasn't right. This wasn't natural. Whoever was behind this had gone far beyond cruelty. This was madness—sick, inhuman madness. And whoever had done it didn't deserve mercy. They deserved something far worse than death.
The girl—if you could even still call her that—looked like she had already lost herself. There was no awareness in her eyes, only emptiness, only pain. As if she had long given up on being saved… as if she was only waiting to die.
She wasn't even truly conscious anymore. Just screaming—endlessly, instinctively—as the agony consumed her. Tears streamed down her cheeks like they'd never stop.
Blonde hair hung messily around her small face, and she wore a simple white robe, now stained and torn. She looked no older than eight.
And yet, here she was—fused to a monstrous beast, trapped in a body not her own, made into something that should never have existed.
"What… What do we do?" Leif asked, his voice low and uncertain.
Gara turned to him, surprised.
Leif—the calm, composed one who always had a plan—was asking him what to do?
That realization hit harder than expected. But Gara didn't let it show. He inhaled deeply, steadying himself, then peeked at the creature again.
"We end her suffering," he said firmly. "If you can't do it, I can. One blow is all I'll need."
Leif's eyes widened, and he shook his head almost instinctively. "No. We can't kill her. We have to save her—there has to be a way."
Gara's expression didn't change. His voice remained calm, but each word struck like stone. "How? Can you separate her from that thing without killing her? Can we contain her safely? Are we dragging her out of the Fragment? What if the Reciter denies us passage? Then what?"
One question after another, fired like arrows, each one demanding a reality check.
"I want to save her too," Gara admitted. "But that's not an option we have right now. Not here. Not like this."
Leif clenched his fists, struggling. His silence said everything—he had no answers.
Hope battled denial in his eyes for a long, quiet second.
And then… he nodded, just once, barely more than a breath.
Leif stared at the creature—no, at the girl trapped within it—as her broken cries echoed through the wind. His fists tightened at his sides before he finally let out a slow, heavy sigh.
Gara shifted, preparing to stand, but was stopped when he felt a sudden grip on his kimono.
"I'll do it," Leif said quietly.
Gara froze, eyes narrowing as he turned to study Leif's face. "Are you sure?" he asked, voice low. "You really will?"
He didn't hide his doubt. He knew how much the blonde-haired young man cared—and caring made it harder.
But Leif didn't flinch. He only nodded once, firm and silent.
Gara let out a breath, accepting the decision. He slowly sat back down, leaning against the boulder, offering no further words. Just trust.
Leif rose to his feet. In one fluid motion, a long obsidian odachi appeared in his hand, its blade catching the moonlight like still water.
He inhaled, steady and controlled—then activated his Story.
His Original: [Masked Threat].
His aura surged, sharp and undeniable, Peak F Rank spilling out like a silent scream. The air shifted.
Far ahead, the twisted creature halted.
The girl's cries spiked, her pain made louder by the unnatural stillness that followed. And slowly… the monster turned to face the distant boulder.
It had felt him.
Leif stepped out from behind the boulder, his eyes locked onto the twisted form of the monster ahead. The girl's pained cries echoed in his ears, but he pushed the sound aside. This would be quick. Clean.
He bent his knees, poured strength into his right leg, and launched himself forward like a bolt of lightning. In a blur, he closed the distance, obsidian odachi raised to strike.
One blow. That was all it would take.
But just as the blade neared its mark—aimed cleanly for the girl's neck—his sword stopped.
The pressure was instantaneous and absolute. His breath caught in his throat, eyes wide in disbelief. He hadn't even seen the person arrive—hadn't sensed them, hadn't heard them. One second, he was mid-swing. The next, his blade was halted by a single hand.
Leif's gaze rose slowly, trailing up the arm of the one who had appeared.
An old man stood before him, bald with a long white beard, his expression calm and smiling—as if he hadn't just deflected a killing strike with ease. His robes were pristine, flowing and scholarly, pure white like untouched parchment.
And in his hand, he held Leif's odachi.
Unshaken. Unmoved. Smiling.
"Who…" Leif started, but the word stuck in his throat.
He couldn't finish the question. The weight pressing down on him was too heavy—an invisible pressure he recognized all too well. He'd felt it before, when standing before those far stronger than him. The old man standing there now… he was the same. A force of nature wrapped in calm.
Frozen mid-strike, Leif stood helpless, his odachi still caught in the old man's hand.
Then, without malice or threat, the old man released his grip. Leif staggered back a few steps, his breathing shallow, eyes never leaving the white-robed figure.
From behind the boulder, Gara emerged, but his posture made it clear—he wasn't readying for a fight. He wasn't even thinking about one. He simply stared, wide-eyed, caught in the same stunned silence as Leif.
The old man glanced at them both with a soft smile.
"I apologize," he said gently. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
And with one swift, precise motion, he struck the base of the girl's neck. Instantly, the monstrous fusion collapsed, unconscious, her tortured cries silenced at last.
"I've been watching you two since the moment you entered this Fragment," he continued, brushing his sleeve clean as if he'd done nothing out of the ordinary. "I know… a little creepy, I admit. But I had to be sure of your hearts first."
His smile deepened, kind but measured.
"I only agreed to intervene if I saw kindness in the ones who I was supposed to help."
The old man's eyes shifted toward Gara first. "I'm still not entirely sure about you," he said plainly, then gestured to Leif with a nod. "But I like this one already."
He pointed toward the unconscious creature—the twisted fusion of girl and beast. "Don't worry," he said calmly, "I have a friend who can save the girl. I'll take care of it."
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Oh—and if you're wondering who did this? It was a student of the [Mad Scientist]."
That name alone hit harder than anything else could have. Both Gara and Leif stiffened even more—if that was even possible.
The [Mad Scientist].
An infamous X Ranker whose reputation sent chills through anyone familiar with the darker corners of the Story World. He was ranked 23rd on the Blue Trade Organization's Top 25 Most Evil Story Owners—a list vetted by the Council of Eight and approved by the All Seeing Eye itself.
His title wasn't a metaphor. The [Mad Scientist] was exactly what he claimed to be—a monster in a lab coat, obsessed with experiments regardless of morality, pain, or consequence. He'd left a trail of suffering through Fragments and the Story World alike, and everyone who heard his name agreed on one thing:
He more than earned his place on that list.
Leif wanted to speak, but the pressure radiating from the old man held his tongue. The weight of his presence alone—without even releasing any aura—was enough to make Leif feel uneasy, though he'd never admit he was scared.
Gara, on the other hand, was scared too—but he forced himself to speak. "Why would they do this?"
"I don't know," the old man replied with a tired shrug. "Maybe they wanted to see if it was possible to fuse a young girl with a few beasts. To create what, though? I haven't the faintest idea."
He looked down at the unconscious creature with a quiet sigh. "Seems like it was a failure. They didn't even bother to monitor her—just left her here."
His eyes narrowed, frustration flickering beneath his calm voice. "I've been trying to track this student down for a while now… but all I ever find are his failed experiments." Another sigh. "Oh well. I guess I'll just have to try harder."
At this, Gara couldn't hold back the question. "Who are you?"
The old man chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're brave, young one. Not as kind as him... but definitely braver. I like that." He smiled, then added, "I'm the owner of [White Space]."
Gara instinctively took a step back, stunned. That name—he knew it. One of the two SS Rankers currently residing in the [Rashanz] Fragment.
They had just met one… completely at random. Or no—because he had been looking for them.
If the old man hadn't already mentioned wanting to help them, Gara might've bolted. Not that it would've mattered. The thought of him, a mere F Ranker, trying to escape from an SS Ranker was so absurd it almost made him laugh.
Like an ant trying to run from a human.
Utterly impossible.
The old man spoke again, his tone light. "Don't worry, owner of [Root of All Things]. You either, [Masked Threat]." He chuckled, then turned to Leif. "Or should I call you the wielder of [Lightning Dance]?"
Leif flinched—just slightly—before finally finding his voice. "What do you want with us?" Gara's eyes narrowed, also watching [White Space] carefully.
The old man only smiled. "Nothing. I'm just here to make sure you two make it out alive, that's all."
He shifted his gaze to the unconscious girl-monster and continued, "Anyway, I'll be taking her now and be on my merry way. You two, make sure to enjoy yourselves while you're here, alright?"
And before either Gara or Leif could get a word in, the old man vanished from sight—taking the girl with him—as if he had never been there at all.
—End of Chapter.
-------
Random thoughts:
Gara: So... You just killed the both of us, right?
Leif: I apologize. I thought no SS Ranker would be interested in two tiny F Rankers like us.
Gara: We're the main characters... Are you dumb or something?
Leif: True... But I guess, since we are the mcs... Then does it matter if even a Z Ranker shows up?
Gara: Well, for me no. I am featured on the cover of the story after all... You though... Uhhh...
Leif: Oh... True... I might not be as main character as I think I am, huh?
Gara: Sorry... Or I guess not, cause you got us here to begin with.
Leif: Welp... Nothing I can do about it now, can only hope I'm important enough to the plot that I won't die next chapter or something.