Rayan Kael was the weakest hunter in the world, and everyone knew it. Every time a gate opened, he was there — trembling behind his stronger teammates, clutching his chipped sword, praying that today wouldn't be the day he died. His guildmates mocked him, called him the useless E-rank, the baggage, the one who survived only because others protected him. Yet Rayan didn't quit. He needed the money, needed to save his mother who lay in a coma, her breath shallow and faint. Every slash, every wound, every humiliation — he took it silently, promising himself that one day, he'd prove them wrong. But the world didn't care about promises. The world only respected strength. On a cold, gray morning, the Guild of Dawn entered a gate deeper than any before — a labyrinth filled with stone warriors and whispers that spoke of ancient gods. Rayan felt it the moment he stepped inside: the dungeon was alive. The air burned with a heavy pressure that crushed his lungs. The others laughed it off, but he knew something was wrong. The deeper they went, the louder the whispers grew, echoing through his mind, calling his name in a tongue he couldn't understand. When they reached the final chamber, the doors sealed shut. The statues that lined the hall began to move, their eyes glowing red. Swords lifted, and in seconds, the floor was painted in blood. Rayan screamed, slashing blindly, but his blade cracked. His guildmates fell one after another. "Why… why am I always this weak?" he cried. The statues surrounded him, their shadows merging, and a voice spoke from within the chaos — a voice neither divine nor human: "Do you wish to live?" Rayan froze. The world slowed. Before him, a glowing blue screen appeared in midair — text shifting and pulsing: [SYSTEM INITIALIZATION: PLAYER DETECTED] [YES] / [NO]. He couldn't understand what he was seeing, but instinct screamed one word: Choose. As the statues raised their swords, Rayan shouted "YES!" and the world exploded in light. Agony flooded his body, then silence. When he opened his eyes, he was lying amidst shattered stone, surrounded by dust and corpses. Everyone was gone. His wounds were gone too. But above him, floating in the air, was that same blue text: [WELCOME, ASCENDER.] From that day, Rayan's life became something beyond human comprehension. The system followed him like a ghost, forcing him to complete daily quests — train, fight, survive — punishing him whenever he failed. He laughed at the absurdity, but pain made him obey. He trained until his body broke, then healed, then broke again. Each time he grew faster, stronger, sharper. His stats rose. His fear faded. For the first time, he felt what it meant to grow. The world around him began to change — shadows whispered his name, monsters stared in silence when he passed, and hunters who once mocked him began to avoid his gaze. Rayan didn't just level up — he evolved. He discovered that his power came from darkness, from something ancient buried within his soul. He could summon the dead, command their shadows, and bend them to his will. The first time he raised a fallen monster as his servant, he laughed — not out of joy, but disbelief. The weak hunter had become death's chosen. The system called it [Shadow Ascension]. The world called it impossible. But Rayan didn't care what they called it. All he cared about was one thing — to climb higher, to reach the truth behind the voice that saved him. Dungeon after dungeon, blood after blood, he hunted. His eyes turned darker, his aura colder. He learned that power always came with a cost. The more he used the system, the more it whispered — "Become one with the abyss." He didn't understand what it meant, but each time he ignored it, nightmares devoured his sleep. He saw worlds burning, gods falling, and his own reflection smiling back at him with crimson eyes. Still, he continued. He fought through ranks, defeated bosses that once terrified him, destroyed guilds that betrayed him. Rayan Kael, the weakest E-rank hunter, became the silent terror of the underworld. Governments whispered his name like a curse. Hunters called him The Shadow Monarch. But Rayan didn't care for titles. Deep inside, he still saw the same boy kneeling beside his dying mother, begging for another chance. He knew that no amount of power could erase the loneliness carved into his heart. Yet every battle pulled him closer to something — a hidden gate, a truth beyond the system, a voice that whispered like an echo from another life. And when the final gate opened, the world trembled. Even gods turned their gaze. The system that once guided him now spoke only one line: [THE END BEGINS.]
