From Alessio Leone's Perspective
The center of Eldenwall was, without a doubt, the most glamorous part of the city. The crooked alleys and cheap taverns were left behind, replaced by wide streets paved with pale stones that gleamed as if polished daily. Guards in shining armor kept order, but they weren't the ones who drew attention.
It was the nobles.
NPCs dressed in luxurious attire walked through the district as if they truly lived there, indifferent to the players who observed them with curiosity. Their conversations were mundane—about taxes, trade, arranged marriages—but there was an aura of authenticity in every gesture, a performance so flawless that, for a moment, one could forget they were nothing more than code and lines of programming.
At the heart of the district stood the governor's office, a dark stone building with ornate columns and the banners of the Kingdom of Thalgrande fluttering in the wind. The governor, an NPC of noble lineage, was in charge of the city's administration on behalf of the royal family. To most players, the structure was just background scenery. But Alessio knew that, in time, it would become the stage for fierce disputes—alliances, political intrigue, and exclusive quests tied to the city's very fate.
And that wasn't the only point of interest.
Further ahead, in the center of a circular plaza, stood the teleportation portal. A monumental structure of interwoven black stone arches, etched with glowing runes. A bluish light pulsed at its core, both inviting and menacing. It was always active, open to the public—but the cost was outrageous. So many gold coins that any ordinary player would rather spend months traveling on foot than throw away a fortune here.
That's why, in the early days, the portals were almost ignored. Only the wealthiest, the few who could afford the luxury, used them to jump between cities and meet up with friends.
And that was exactly Alessio's case.
Not far from there, a reinforced wooden hall housed the Adventurers' Guild branch. Its doors stood open, a golden sign greeting newcomers: "Quests, Honor, and Glory." Inside, players could accept higher-level tasks, some with the power to alter the city's entire course. But there was a catch: reputation. Without enough prestige, most contracts were locked away behind the receptionists' indifferent stares.
For now, the city center held little practical use for most players. It was scenery, a meeting point. A playground for the rich who, like Matteo, wanted to travel between cities at the very start of the game.
That was why Alessio was waiting there—for a friend who had just cost him a thousand coins.
It didn't take long before Matteo appeared in the middle of the plaza, wrapped in the portal's blue glow.
Alessio raised an eyebrow at the sight.
In real life, his friend always showed up in simple engineer's clothes—oil-stained lab coats, unbuttoned dress shirts, practical trousers—and the contrast now was almost comical.
His short, neatly combed blond hair caught the portal's light as if polished. His pale, paper-like skin bore the mark of years shut inside laboratories, bathed in fluorescent lamps rather than sunlight. Even here, in fantasy, Matteo wore his thin-rimmed glasses, as if he wouldn't recognize himself without them.
A long, dark-blue mage's robe covered him from head to toe, embroidered with arcane symbols that glimmered faintly with each movement. A tall, pointy hat—exaggerated and somewhat ridiculous—completed the caricature. In his right hand he leaned on a twisted wooden staff crowned with a crystal, while at his waist hung a heavy grimoire strapped with leather belts.
From meticulous engineer to apprentice mage… the sight was nothing short of ironic. Alessio couldn't help but smile.
Matteo rushed over, still fumbling with his wide sleeves.
"Man, that was weird… every hair on my body is standing up." His voice was half-shocked, half-excited.
Alessio answered with a small smile, watching his friend's enthusiasm.
"You haven't seen anything yet."
"What do you mean? Have you tried the spells already?" Alessio asked, scanning him with his eyes.
"Of course." Matteo pushed his glasses up with a finger. "It's unreal how the game applies physics to spellcasting. I can't figure out how a kid who doesn't even know about water's change of state could conjure an ice spear."
"Their start is different," Alessio explained briefly. "Children enter a magic academy inside the game. They learn the basics there before casting."
Matteo's eyes widened in surprise.
But Alessio didn't waste any more time. He adjusted his shield on his arm and turned toward the street leading down to the quest zone.
"Let's go. We need to level up. Follow me."
"Perfect, perfect! I'm ready to be carried," Matteo replied, grinning like he'd just unwrapped a new toy.
Alessio sighed silently.
He really was ready to be carried.
Leveling up in the Black Tower was torture.
Just the day before, Alessio had cleared five hard-mode missions, slain dozens of enemies, and pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion. Even so, the expected notification never came. No "Level 2." Just the dry silence of the system.
For any novice, it would be crushing. The absence of an experience bar, of percentages or visible hints, made progress feel nonexistent.
And worse—even when it did come, the reward was pitiful: only every five levels did players receive two extra status points. A pittance to some, invisible bricks to others. Alessio knew all too well how each point could mean the difference between standing tall or falling dead.
Fortunately, Alessio wasn't a common beginner.
He was a veteran with ten years of experience in this game.
So it wasn't as if he lacked ways to speed up his climb.
If he couldn't rely solely on the cold logic of accumulated experience, he would lean on what made a veteran a predator: hidden knowledge.
Of course…
The difficulty was inevitable.But he had survived once before.And this time, he didn't plan to merely survive. He planned to rise above every other player.