The fire crackled softly as night settled over the village. Golden sat across from Harlen near the communal hall, the faint glow of flames reflecting in his tired eyes. The comfort felt strange—almost dangerous.
Comfort made people careless.
Still… his mind wouldn't rest.
This world was too cruel to survive without something more.
"Harlen," Golden said quietly, breaking the silence.
The man glanced at him. "Hmm?"
"There has to be a power system in this world," Golden said. "Something people use to fight monsters. No village survives here without it."
Harlen didn't answer immediately. He stared into the fire, as if weighing whether Golden deserved the truth.
Then he spoke.
"It's called Willflow."
Golden straightened slightly.
"Power," Harlen continued, "doesn't come from chanting spells or praying to gods. It comes from understanding reality… and forcing it to obey your will."
Golden frowned. "Forcing reality?"
Harlen nodded. "Every living being has something inside them. We call it Essence. Raw power. Potential."
Golden listened carefully, memorizing every word.
"But Essence alone does nothing," Harlen said. "What matters is Authority—how you command that Essence. Two people can have the same Essence and end up completely different, depending on how their will shapes it."
Golden processed it quickly.
"Essence is the fuel," he said slowly.
"Authority is how you use it."
Harlen gave a faint smile. "You learn fast."
Golden's chest tightened—not with fear, but with curiosity.
"So what kinds of Essence exist?"
Harlen raised his hand and began counting on his fingers.
"Core," he said first. "Balanced. Steady growth. No extremes. But slow to master."
"Primal—raw physical power. Strength, speed, endurance. Easy to use… but lacks precision."
Golden immediately thought of monsters that relied purely on brute force.
"Astral controls the mind—perception, illusions, awareness. Powerful, but the body stays weak."
He swallowed.
"Void," Harlen continued, his voice lowering, "is about survival. Negation. Endurance against impossible odds. But it takes something from you each time."
"What kind of price?" Golden asked.
"Emotion," Harlen replied. "Void users grow numb. Isolated."
Golden felt a strange chill.
"Order bends rules—binding, control, laws. Strong, but predictable."
"And Chaos," Harlen said last, "adapts. Mutates. Evolves in battle. Powerful… but unstable. Many Chaos users destroy themselves."
Golden exhaled slowly.
"And progression?" he asked. "Levels?"
"No fancy realms," Harlen said. "Just five stages."
He listed them calmly:
"Awakened — you sense your Essence.
Focused — Authority begins to manifest.
Refined — control and efficiency.
Dominant — your will affects the surroundings.
Sovereign — near godlike mastery."
Golden clenched his hands
"And nothing is free," Harlen added. "Every use of Willflow has a cost."
"Injuries. Exhaustion. Hallucinations. Emotional loss. Mutations."
His eyes met Golden's. "Power here doesn't make life easier. It makes choices heavier."
Golden fell silent.
For the first time since arriving in this world, things made sense.
This wasn't a world where power was handed out.
It was a world where will carved strength out of suffering.
As the fire crackled, Golden stared into the flames, a quiet resolve forming in his chest.
If survival demanded will…
Then one day, he would bend this world to his own.