The rain didn't fall that night—it attacked.
Each drop hammered the cracked window of Elias Kane's apartment like a debt collector kicking in a door. The undercity outside was a smear of flickering neon and rust, the kind of place where dreams came to starve quietly out of sight.
Eighteen years old, living off scraps and temporary jobs no one else wanted, Elias stared at himself in a fractured mirror. The reflection was a mosaic of broken shards, each one showing a slightly different version of him: pale skin, unkempt black hair, eyes too sharp for someone the world treated as disposable.
A nobody.
A ghost.
One of the countless ignored who never received the Requiem Spell's blessing.
In this world, power wasn't earned—it chose. And it had never chosen him.
Until it did.
The pain hit without warning. A violent, blinding stab that erupted in his chest like a knife of molten iron. Elias collapsed on his threadbare mattress, the room spinning into a tunnel of darkness.
Then a cold, emotionless voice echoed in the hollow of his skull.
[Requiem Spell Activated. Transmigration Initiated.]
[Player: Elias Kane]
[Class: Forgotten Serf (Rank: Mortal)]
[Aspect: Veiled Requiem (Hidden Divine Rank – Sealed)]
[Flaw: Eternal Deception – Revealing true strength results in soul erosion.]
[First Trial: The Shattered Kingdom. Survive 30 days in the Ruins of Aetheria.]
His last breath in the old world tasted like dust and regret.
His first in the new one tasted like blood and magic.
Darkness devoured him whole.
A New World of Ruins
When he opened his eyes, the apartment was gone.
He lay on cold stone beneath a bleeding sky. Massive spires of cracked marble stabbed upward like the ribs of a dead titan. The wind carried the distant roars of beasts and the hum of lingering ancient spells. And far on the horizon floated colossal fortresses—levitating citadels carved by Awakened who had conquered their fragments of this shattered realm.
A translucent screen hovered before him, humming softly like a heartbeat.
[Welcome to the Eternal Dominion.
Kill, grow, rule. Or die forgotten.]
[Starting Abilities:]
• Peasant's Resolve — Minor fatigue resistance.
• Hidden Harvest — Absorb essence from defeated foes (concealed as luck-based drops).
• Deceptive Aura — True power masked; perceived as 50% weaker.
Elias exhaled, a breath somewhere between disbelief and bitter laughter.
A trash class.
A curse disguised as a flaw.
Abilities meant for someone destined to be prey.
Perfect.
Survival wasn't strength. It was obscurity—knowing when to bow, when to disappear, when to strike.
He pushed himself up, tattered serf garb materializing around him. No weapon. No allies. Just distant roars and heavier shadows gathering between the ruins.
Then he saw them: three skeletal wolves prowling between broken pillars, their hollow eyes glowing like dying embers.
[Shadow Wolf Pack (Level 5)]
Threat: Moderate.
Moderate for who?
To them, he was meat.
Elias swallowed his fear, widened his eyes, and stumbled backward, playing the role the world expected of him.
"Come on," he whispered under his breath. "Let's dance."
The lead wolf lunged—
Elias dodged.
Barely.
Clumsily.
Intentionally.
His fingers brushed its fur as it passed.
[Hidden Harvest Activated.]
The wolf faltered mid-air, essence torn from it with silent violence.
[Essence Absorbed: +1 Strength. True Level: 2]
The second wolf rushed him. Elias grabbed a jagged stone, "panicked," and slammed it into the beast's skull. The impact cracked bone; blood splattered across the stones.
The third wolf bit into his arm. Pain flared—sharp, raw, grounding.
Elias gritted his teeth.
Then he smiled.
[Essence Absorbed: +2 Agility. Shadow Resistance (Minor). True Level: 4]
He finished the last wolf in a flurry of desperate, "lucky" blows. Then he collapsed, breathing ragged, playing the part of a boy who barely survived his first encounter.
To anyone watching, he was a fragile serf who lived only through blind fortune.
To himself?
The hunt had just begun.
The First Witness
Soft footsteps approached.
A figure emerged from a torn archway—tall, graceful, beautiful in a sharp, dangerous way. Silver hair. Emerald eyes. Leather armor fitting her like fate had tailored it. A glowing sword hung at her hip.
[Awakened Detected: Lirael Voss (Level 15 – Noble Knight Class)]
Her gaze softened when she saw him.
"A serf?" she murmured, almost saddened. "The Spell is cruel. You shouldn't be here."
Elias coughed weakly, letting his eyes glaze over. "P-please… don't leave me…"
She hesitated, then sighed and extended her hand.
"Come on. Stick close to me, weakling. I could use… extra bodies."
Elias took her hand.
His grip was soft.
Harmless.
Forgettable.
Perfect.
Inside, the Veiled Requiem pulsed—slow, silent, hungry.
This realm would forge kings, tyrants, monsters.
Empires would rise and fall beneath new gods.
And in the blind corners of their brilliance…
Elias Kane would build his throne in the shadows.