Then he looked at the Suggestions tab again—it had changed.
[Status Panel: 3 Gold Coins]
[Basic Fire Lighter Kit: 0.5 Gold Coins]
[Dry Food: 0.5 Gold Coins]
[Treasure Map (mini): 1 Gold Coin]
Omen understood one thing — the Suggestions tab gave him what he needed at that moment. The first option would never be bad for him. Without hesitation, he bought the first one.
[Status Panel: 3 gold coins, purchased 1×]
"Status Panel?" he muttered. "What the hell is this now?"
Omen had never seen this much money before, and now he was spending it like it meant nothing.
The moment he said "Status," a purple-colored panel appeared before him, glowing faintly with energy.
Omen Ashenroot
Age: 20 years
Gold: 1.5 coins (The system—the only accepts and counts gold.)
Species: Vampire 100%
Rank: Level 6—Blade-Sentry (81%)
Strength: 16
Agility: 16
Intelligence: 160
Mana: 16
Dexterity: 16
Charm: Max
Luck: 16
Trait (Mastery): Assassin of the Void (0%), Resurrection (1%), Transformation (0%), Black Void Sword (0%), Wings of the Void (0%), Blood Eyes (0%)
Technique: None
Omen stared, a grin tugging at his face. "Three gold well spent," he said quietly.
As he admired the glowing panel, a lazy voice echoed from behind him.
"Yo! Are you a mercenary too?"
The words hit him like a knife to the back. He froze. That voice was close—too close.
He turned his head sharply, heart pounding. How the hell did someone sneak up on me without me noticing?
He looked back. Just one glance, and he forced himself to act calm. Slowly, he faced forward again.
The status panel automatically shifted.
Name: Maloch Hasnai
Age: 340 years
Rank: Level 29—Protector (99%)
Species: Elf 68% + Horse 12% + Orc 10% + Dog 5% + Goblin 5%
[Update Status Panel to see more information.]
Because Omen hadn't closed the panel, he could see everything. He read through it slowly, each word colder than the next. With a thought, the panel vanished.
He swallowed. The man approaching him was strong—far stronger than him. And dying again wasn't exactly something he wanted to test casually.
Maloch, on the other hand, was just as startled. The massive figure sitting before the fire, dressed in black and white, masked with three horns—that alone was intimidating. His red eyes glowed faintly through the slits.
The air around Omen was thick, heavy, and unnatural.
Maloch hesitated, then walked forward.
Omen didn't speak. He just sat on the ground, stiff but silent. His instincts screamed to stay still.
Maloch tried to gauge his strength, using a danger-sensing method—but got nothing. No reading at all. Only… danger.
That scared him even more.
He sat down slowly across from Omen, the firelight flickering between them.
Omen glanced up, then back to the fire.
He had no idea what to say. He'd spent most of his life either killing or being tortured. Conversations weren't exactly his skill.
Maloch was nervous too. The man in front of him radiated something unnatural. If he could ally with him, maybe he could survive what was coming.
"Sir," Maloch began carefully, "would you be interested in… partnering with me?"
Omen's voice was low. "For what?"
He genuinely didn't understand why a man this strong would want him.
Maloch, on the other hand, misunderstood completely. He thought Omen was simply too powerful to care.
Gathering his courage, Maloch continued. "Sir, the Doom is near. We're here for the gold—but alone, we'll die. I heard there's even a Conflictor-level monster appearing this year. I can be your henchman if you'll have me."
Omen blinked. What the fuck is he talking about?
A Protector-level cultivator wants to be my henchman? Is he planning to use me as bait? Or is his head just broken?
He said nothing for a moment. Then simply nodded. "Mm."
He summoned the System Shop.
[Treasure Map (mini): 1 Gold Coin—Purchased]
The moment he bought it, coordinates flashed into his mind. It wasn't far.
Maloch, meanwhile, was sweating. If this masked man decided to kill him, even victory would leave him crippled. With the Doom of Aisenmoor approaching, that wasn't a risk he could take.
He watched as Omen stood up, the ground creaking faintly beneath his tall frame.
Omen thought for a moment.
This guy's strong. If there's danger near the treasure, he can take the hit first.
He straightened and said simply, "Follow me."
Maloch's eyes lit up. Excitement replaced fear. For once, someone had agreed to work with him.
The Doom of Aisenmoor was near.
Aisenmoor—the Jungle of Eternity—expanded a little every year, devouring the land around it.
Races that didn't belong there hated its growth. They chopped down its cursed trees, selling the wood for impossible profits. The trees were valuable—enough to start wars.
But greed always calls the monsters.
When too many trees were cut, the beasts of Aisenmoor began to retaliate. At first, it seemed small—isolated attacks, vanishing workers. But soon, it became a pattern. Every year, during a certain time, countless beasts gathered and attacked all who dared approach.
It was known as the Doom of Aisenmoor.
And each year, millions died.
In the rising Firestar light, two figures walked through the crimson fog—one masked and silent, the other trembling but hopeful—heading toward the jungle's heart.
The Doom was coming.