The rocky hills gleamed faintly under the pale glow of the moon, their jagged edges casting long, distorted shadows across the land. The only other light came from the unending barrage of blue lightning bolts that rained down upon the nearby peak—the infamous Mountain of Lightning, alive with electric fury.
Hidden beneath one of the many slopes encircling the mountain, a small brown root lay buried in the earth. It pulsed faintly, cradled within a delicate box crafted from white paper. Rain and water surged above, but none reached it—the paper box held firm, its surface slick yet untouched, shielding the root from the waves' fury like a stubborn heartbeat in the silence below.
Fortunately, the water swept past without ever touching the box of paper. It remained still beneath the earth, untouched, pristine. Then—quietly, subtly—it began.
The root within stirred.
The paper box unraveled, almost reverently, as the root emerged and began to grow. At first, it was barely the size of a baby—then it stretched, twisting upward, branches forming like limbs, its trunk broadening like a chest. In mere moments, it grew to the size of a child... then a teenager... then a fully grown young man.
It stood—a leafless tree in humanoid form. Tall. Silent. Still.
Then, change began.
The bark-like surface started shifting, reshaping into a more defined silhouette. Arms, legs, shoulders, a head. At first, it was just a wooden statue—smooth, faceless, eerie.
But then—one by one—his features began to bloom like buds on spring wood. Eyes carved themselves into the wood, a nose and mouth slowly sculpted into place. Texture deepened. Lines sharpened.
And then, color bled into the form.
Red seeped into the hair, tousled and wild. Blue flooded the eyes, clear and vibrant. A deep crimson layered over the wooden body, shaping itself into the folds of a flowing kimono.
In another breath, the tree was gone.
In its place stood a young man reborn—short, messy red hair, sharp blue eyes, and the signature red kimono fluttering faintly in the breeze.
Gara had returned—wielder of the F Ranked Original Story, [Root of All Things].
He looked down at himself, eyes wide in disbelief.
Hands—real. Skin—warm. Breath—steady.
Gara stared in shock, taking in every inch of his reborn form. A few shaky breaths escaped his lips as he tried to ground himself, chest rising and falling as the weight of what just happened began to settle.
Then, slowly, he closed his eyes and exhaled.
Calm.
He stretched his arms, rolled his shoulders, twisted at the waist—testing the limits of this new body born from his story. It moved smoothly, naturally, like he'd always had it. But it wasn't the same as before. This one had come from the core of his being—from the very root of everything he was.
After a few quiet moments, he finally stopped moving.
It was time to think.
What just happened… and what would he do next?
This wasn't the first time Gara had used his ability.
But it wasn't something he relied on often—mostly because he rarely faced enemies capable of one-shotting him. Golden Lightning, though… that was something else entirely. A force so absolute, it didn't leave time to think, let alone dodge. It had erased him from existence in seconds.
Gara let out a light sigh, his breath catching slightly as he recalled the last moments before everything went black.
His mind turned to the white paper box that had shielded the root—the small, precious remnant of his Original Story. If not for that single box of protection, he wouldn't be here right now. He'd be gone. Really gone.
He'd been cautious. Smart. He had planted dozens of small roots throughout their journey up the mountain as a contingency. A fail-safe.
But they were gone now.
Wiped away, no doubt, by the second SS Ranker who had entered the [Rashanz] Fragment—[Blue Waves].
It made sense why he had done it.
Gara's ability to create wooden bodies wasn't exactly a secret in the Story World. Anyone with enough Cores could buy that information straight off the Blue Trade Records. It wasn't hidden. It wasn't rare.
His heart thumped harder as the realization sank in—this could've been it. He could've truly died this time.
Sure, the ability to form new bodies through planted roots had saved him more than once. It was a clever trick. But it only worked if the roots remained intact. If the enemy knew what to look for—if they made it their goal to destroy every root in range—then there was no escape. No comeback. Death would be the only outcome.
And as an F Ranker, his range was limited. He could only revive through roots planted a few kilometers away from where his body had perished.
Fortunately... [White Space] had stepped in.
The old man had preserved at least one root—shielding it in that fragile yet invaluable white paper box. That singular act had changed everything. It had allowed Gara to rise again.
If not for [White Space]'s intervention, he wouldn't be here. Wouldn't be breathing. Wouldn't be thinking.
He took a deep breath and made a mental note: he owed the old man. Big time.
One day, somehow, he'd make sure to repay that debt.
Such abilities to escape weren't exclusive to Gara.
In fact, across the vast Story World, most Players had at least one "cheat"—a built-in safeguard or trump card tucked into their Story to ensure they didn't die from a single, unfortunate blow. Whether through secret mechanisms, damage redirection, clones, or time-delayed triggers, it was more common than not.
Very few chose to live without such protections.
One of the most famous exceptions was the [Beast King]—a terrifying figure who had deliberately Restricted his Story to allow only one death. No second chances. Just one life, one end. That single restriction made him revered... and feared.
The [Beast King] ruled the Beast Kingdom, one of the 13 strongest Factions in the Story World. A power on par with legendary supergroups like the Grey Rose Organization and the Council of Eight. His strength didn't just come from his Story or raw power—it came from the weight of finality in every battle he fought.
And funnily enough, or perhaps fatefully so, the [Beast King] had a connection to the very Reciter responsible for the [Rashanz] Fragment: the enigmatic [Best Horror Storyteller].
The same Reciter who now watched silently as stories twisted and Players fell... including Gara, who had just barely crawled his way back.
The red-haired young man took in a deep breath and opened his golden Story System interface, the familiar glow of its intricate designs reflecting in his blue eyes. Two notifications pulsed softly in the center of his vision.
One was a message—from an account he didn't recognize.
The other bore the unmistakable seal of the Story System itself… more specifically, a direct notification from the AI that governed it all: the All Seeing Eye.
Gara's expression shifted the moment he read it.
It wasn't just a system update or a routine status alert.
It was an offer.
An offer to rank up.
"Do you wish to ascend to E Rank?" the golden text shimmered, waiting for his answer.
Gara stumbled back a step, stunned.
Rank up? E Rank?
He blinked, rereading the message, just to be sure.
It was real.
He'd been an F Ranker for years—ever since the moment he entered the Story World. He'd clawed and fought, pushed himself to the very edge of what F Rank could hold. He was close to the peak, sure—but he hadn't reached it.
And yet, now…
Now, the system was offering him advancement—just like that?
Still, thinking back on it, it did start to make sense.
Surviving a Golden Lightning Bolt—the legendary wrath of the [Rashanz] Fragment—was no small feat. For an F Ranker like him, it was practically a miracle. A moment so rare, so narratively potent, that it could only be described as an event. And in the Story World, events like that were everything.
There were two paths to leveling up.
The first was Core payment—stockpiling enough Cores to make your way through the System's gate. It was the safer path, but one with limitations. You had to reach the very peak of your current rank first, and the quality of your growth would never match the second method.
The second path was the event-based ascension—a breakthrough born of danger, drama, and story. Survive something unthinkable. Change your tale in a way the System couldn't ignore. When your story was close enough to the peak already, one event could tip it into evolution.
And Gara's event was undeniable: living through the Golden Lightning of an SS Ranked Fragment.
It was the kind of event that rewrote a narrative entirely.
The same could be said for Leif, who was still up there on the Mountain of Lightning, trying to absorb the bolt and twist it into a new chapter for himself. He too sought to climb to E Rank—through trial, not payment.
Gara glanced at the glowing prompt again.
He didn't need many Cores for this kind of leap—just enough to spark the process.
And fortunately, he had them.
A grin slowly stretched across his face.
Happiness poured through his chest like rain, soaking into every corner of his heart. He could hardly believe it—it was finally happening.
After everything… after years spent clawing his way through F Rank… after surviving one of the deadliest bolts of lightning the Story World had ever conjured…
He could finally do it.
Level up.
E Rank.
This wasn't just a step forward—it was his first true rise in the Story World. His first ever level up since entering this place.
And it meant everything.
The red-haired young man took a few steady breaths, letting the excitement of the rank-up notification settle deep inside him. He had waited so long for this moment—but now wasn't the time to celebrate.
He brushed the notification aside for now. There was something else that needed his attention first: the strange message he had received.
Opening it, Gara quickly realized it was from none other than [White Space], the SS Ranker who had, not long ago, saved him from certain death. The message wasn't long—just a polite greeting asking how Gara was doing and a request to accept a friend invite so they could communicate freely going forward.
Gara didn't hesitate. He accepted the invite immediately, then messaged back with gratitude pouring from every word, thanking the old man from the bottom of his heart for stepping in when no one else could have.
Within seconds, a reply arrived. [White Space] informed him that the owner of [Masked Threat]—Leif—was currently locked in a tough battle against [Blue Cover]. The outcome was uncertain, and while Leif was strong, things could go either way.
It was best, [White Space] added, if Gara intervened to help him before it was too late.
He then read the final part of [White Space]'s message— A large floating piece of white paper would arrive to escort him back to the peak of the Mountain of Lightning.
It would be there in under a minute.
Gara nodded to himself and quickly sent a message back: "Got it. I'll wait."
With that handled, he turned back to the golden notification still hanging in his Story System interface—the invitation to rank up.
He didn't hesitate.
With a focused breath, he accepted.
In the next instant, a small sum of Green Cores was deducted from his reserves.
Then, it began.
His body trembled as if struck by something unseen, and radiant golden light enveloped him from head to toe. It didn't burn. It pulsed with warmth, with growth, with something deeper.
And then—It vanished.
Gara stood still for a moment, eyes wide with the quiet realization of it.
He had done it.
He had finally leveled up.
His story—[Root of All Things]—had grown. It had evolved.
He was now an E Ranker.
His daily Green Core production of ten had now been replaced—In its place, a new energy pulsed within him, richer and heavier. These were Golden Cores, the rare currency and fuel produced only by E Ranked Stories.
His story, [Root of All Things], now produced three Golden Cores per day. Not much in the eyes of the powerful, perhaps—but to Gara, it was monumental. A solid, unmistakable sign of advancement.
But that wasn't all.
Because he had just leveled up, the Story System rewarded him with a bonus stockpile of Golden Cores—A standard gesture granted to all Players who rose in rank. The exact amount varied, depending on the method used to level up, the risk, the story involved, and countless other factors calculated by the All Seeing Eye.
Gara's bonus?
500 Golden Cores.
An amount so high, it stole his breath for a moment.
Unbelievable.
But then again… it made perfect sense.
He, an F Ranker, had survived Golden Lightning inside an SS Ranked Fragment.
He had lived through what should have been certain death.
And now, the Story System recognized it.
Gara stretched a little, rolling his shoulders and flexing his fingers, and for the first time—he felt it.
The energy coursing through him wasn't the sluggish, gritty flow of an F Ranked Story anymore. No, this was sharper. Brighter. Alive.
The power of an E Ranked Story danced through his limbs, light as air yet rich like gold. It felt like his entire body had been fine-tuned, honed, and reborn—not just rebuilt from roots and bark, but refined.
It was like stepping out of a bath that had cleansed more than just skin.
He exhaled slowly, a soft smile curling on his lips.
That dream—the one he whispered to himself on long nights and quiet walks— To become the Strongest in the Story World…
It was still far away.
Still just a dream.
But now—
He had taken a real step forward.
He had finally done it.
He had reached E Rank.
...
A blonde-haired young man stood tall at the summit of the Mountain of Lightning, his black cloak fluttering behind him in the sharp wind. His battle-fit, sleek black attire clung to his form, designed for both agility and defense. In his grasp, a long black odachi gleamed with quiet menace.
A mask covered his face—jet black, smooth, and horned, with nothing but two dark, hollow eye sockets. An eerie silence surrounded him, as though the mountain itself acknowledged the threat he posed.
This was Leif, wielder of the [Masked Threat]—an Original Story veiled in danger and shadows.
Yet at this moment, his aura betrayed nothing. He stood like a simple man, stripped of presence, no energy leaking from his body. Just… stillness.
It was like his aura was masked.
All around him, blue bolts of lightning tore through the sky and slammed into the mountain in wild bursts. But none ever touched him. They avoided him completely—deflected by the unseen protection of the blue pill he had swallowed earlier.
An island of calm in the heart of a storm.
[Blue Cover], the E Ranker from the elusive Cover Club, had been the one to unravel Leif's carefully laid plan—to absorb the Golden Lightning and ascend through its power. Instead, the bolt had been redirected, tearing through Gara and destroying his body in a flash of force. But Leif wasn't surprised. He already knew of Gara's unique ability—the red-haired F Ranker could regrow a new body from a rooted seed.
And so, Leif waited—calmly, assuredly—at the summit of the Mountain of Lightning, knowing his companion would soon return.
Fortunately, he'd prepared for this. Leif hadn't brought only two blue pills, the rare items that nullified the wrath of the storm above. He had stocked up, and more importantly, he'd made sure to give Gara at least three of them earlier—enough for the red-haired young man to safely make his way back up the mountain.
Leif looked around, his senses sharp beneath the hollow gaze of his black horned mask. It had been at least two minutes since Gara's body was reduced to ash by the Golden Lightning… and since the mysterious blue barrier from [Blue Cover] vanished without a trace. Now, only silence reigned at the summit of the Mountain of Lightning, broken only by the rhythmic crackle of bolts raining down in the distance.
Something felt off.
[Blue Cover] was an E Ranker. He shouldn't need this much time. According to every intel entry on the Blue Trade Records, the man didn't possess any techniques that required a long charge time. His abilities were fast, tactical, designed for suppression and control—yet here he was, doing nothing.
Leif's grip tightened around the black odachi.
'Why the delay?' he thought, eyes scanning every flash of lightning and shifting shadow.
This wasn't hesitation.
It was something else.
So Leif just waited—still, calm, alert—until…
A flicker.
Something flashed in the distance. In the next instant, a sharp blue cover sliced through the air, heading straight for him at blistering speed.
Leif's eyes narrowed beneath the mask. Without hesitation, he raised his long black odachi and brought it down in a clean arc.
Slash!
The cover split cleanly in two—but it wasn't alone.
From the shadows and lightning-flashes came more, dozens of blue covers slicing through the air like blades, closing in from every angle.
Leif didn't flinch. He poured Green Cores into [Masked Threat], and shadows surged around him. His blade danced—fast, fluid, brutal—cutting each one to ribbons with rapid, decisive strikes.
But they just kept coming.
More and more. A storm of paper and speed.
And then—
Shing!
A sudden sting. A thin blue line appeared across his left arm, blood trailing from a cut. One of the covers had barely grazed him, just enough to remind him:
He wasn't invincible.
The sharp blue covers kept coming, relentless and precise, darting in from every direction.
Leif's body twisted and moved on instinct—dodging, blocking, slicing apart the attacks with fluid swings of his long black odachi. But even with his speed and skill, the strain was building.
He was still just an F Ranker.
His stamina was limited.
And it showed.
Thin crimson lines began to bloom across his arms, shoulders, and legs, the blue paper slicing through flesh with surgical precision. Each cut stung sharper than the last.
He grunted, teeth gritted beneath the mask.
'Tsk. The worst thing is, I can't determine where his real body is…'
A flicker of clarity in the chaos.
'Now it makes sense why he took so long. He was making decoys. Dozens of them. So when he started firing these stupid blue covers, I wouldn't be able to tell which came from the real one.'
His grip tightened on the odachi.
'Because in a front-on fight, I could take him down in minutes. No question. But like this… like this, the advantage is his.'
His black eyes scanned the storm of blue, frustration simmering beneath the calm.
'I can only defend… and wait…'
A beat.
'Speaking of—Gara's taking a while, isn't he?'
Leif shook his head, sweat mixing with the blood trailing down his face. He kept swinging, kept dodging, kept enduring. But it was too much.
The onslaught didn't slow. It multiplied.
One after another, the blue covers sliced through the air, faster than thought, and finally… they broke past his defenses.
"Agh—!"
His body was painted in red. Cuts deep and shallow, arms trembling, legs giving in. He couldn't even heal—there was no time. The barrage didn't let up, not even for a heartbeat.
Until it did.
Silence.
The blue assault stopped.
Leif gasped, barely managing a breath, black blade hanging low.
Then—shfft!
New blue covers surged through the air. Long, smooth, flowing like ribbons—but these weren't sharp. These were fast.
And binding.
Two coiled tightly around his arms before he could even react. Then more around his legs, his waist, his chest. They wrapped around him like living chains, pulling tighter and tighter until—
He couldn't move. Not a muscle.
His blade slipped from his fingers and hit the rocky surface with a muted clang.
Wrapped in a cocoon of blue, bound completely, Leif strained against them—but it was no use.
Then, a low laugh echoed through the storm.
Mocking. Calm. Confident.
Still unseen, still hidden—
[Blue Cover] made his presence known.
"Are you waiting for your friend to make it here? I'm sorry to say this, but Master has dealt with his root ability... So I'm afraid to say, [Root of All Things] is already dead."
Leif's body froze.
Gara… dead?
No message. No flare of aura. No sudden arrival.
Nothing.
His fists clenched as far as the bindings allowed. He wanted to scream that it was a lie—but [Blue Cover] had no reason to bluff. Not when his victory seemed all but complete.
And if it was true—if an SS Ranker like [Blue Waves] had truly swept away the remaining roots... then there was no second chance. No regrowth.
Gara wouldn't come back.
"No..." Leif muttered under his breath, shaking his head, refusing to accept it.
He pulled against the blue bindings again, harder this time. Desperation leaking through every muscle.
But they held.
Once it was obvious Leif was completely restrained, the silence cracked. A footstep echoed over the stone.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
[Blue Cover].
At last, he showed himself.
He was robed in layered blue, the cloth clinging like a second skin. An assassin's silhouette. A scarf wound tight over his lower face, with a hood pulled low. His eyes—crimson and faintly glowing—pierced from beneath a black visor, the only visible part of his face.
Cold. Precise. Deadly.
He looked at Leif—not with arrogance, not with pity. Just focus. As if measuring whether it was time for the next strike.
"Oh, how I've longed for this... You're surprisingly strong for an F Ranker. I'll admit, if we fought head-on, I don't like my chances against you. And if you were able to go all out and use your Inherited Story... I might have just not engaged in a fight with you... but you can't use [Lightning Dance], and you didn't have the chance to face me head-on since I hid myself... And now, you're captured and can't move a single muscle."
[Blue Cover] laughed as he stepped closer to Leif, the sound sharp and cruel against the rumble of distant thunder.
"Tsk... I get it now, how [Silver Cover] fell to your older brother... You're all the same, you mask your power and use it when we least expect it."
He shook his head and let out a theatrical sigh.
"I've already taken care of Gara, and next, is you. But you..." He leaned slightly forward, voice dropping into a whisper filled with malice. "I can't use the Golden Lightning since you can just absorb it, instead... because you're wanted by my organization, I'll make sure to enjoy my time killing you slowly."
Leif didn't say a word in return. He stood still, silent as the grave, his black mask concealing both the weight of his threat and the expression carved across his face.
[Blue Cover] observed him for a long moment before breaking into a low, mocking chuckle.
"Aren't you even a little curious?" he asked, voice dripping with amusement. "Curious how we found out you'd be here? Why we're trying to kill you and that friend of yours—even though you're both just F Rankers?"
Leif's gaze locked onto him, unflinching behind the dark mask. And finally, he spoke, his voice cold and steady.
"Can you shut up a little? The more you speak, the more that assassin-like coolness of yours wears off."
[Blue Cover] pointed a sharp finger, fury rising in his voice. "You—"
But he caught himself, exhaled sharply, and shook his head with forced composure.
"Fine, fine. Have it your way then, I'll—"
His words froze mid-sentence.
A sudden tug at his leg.
He glanced down. A single root had broken through the rocky ground, coiling tightly around his ankle like a serpent striking its prey. His heart thudded once in warning—too late.
Before he could move, more roots erupted from the earth, swift and unrelenting, winding up his legs, his arms, his torso—binding him completely.
Just as he had ensnared Leif in those blue ribbons, now he too stood trapped. Only instead of cold, precise bindings of blue, it was raw, living power—twisting brown roots from the earth itself—that held him in place.
He recognized the technique instantly—one of Gara's Wood Techniques.
But… that was impossible. Gara was supposed to be dead. And even if he wasn't, wasn't he just an F Ranker? These roots shouldn't have had the strength to restrain someone of E Rank. Yet, here [Blue Cover] stood, locked in place—completely immobilized.
And then… it happened.
Just as [Blue Cover] had stepped out of the shadows before, another figure emerged now—but this one didn't bother hiding beneath robes or masks.
Short, messy red hair caught the wind.
Sharp blue eyes gleamed with unshaken confidence.
A red kimono fluttered gently with each step forward.
Gara had arrived.
And he was smiling.
A golden light pulsed around him—his aura, no longer that of an F Ranker, but unmistakably E Rank. It flared to life, powerful and radiant, crashing into the air around him like a tide breaking free.
—End of Chapter.
-------
The Art of Cool:
Gara: Ahm, do I need to say anything or nah?
Leif: No need, we get it, you made a cool entrance at the end of the chapter... You're late though... And wow, you barely stayed down for a chapter.
Gara: Hehe! See, that only proves how important I am to the story, can't go one chapter without me, otherwise it's not the Final Express.
Leif: First off, we did go one chapter without you... The Tania one, second, we're not in the Final Express, so don't call it that just yet.
Gara: Well... Uhhhh... I... Alright fine, but that's only one chapter, the Story World can't survive for long without me.
Leif: Untrue, there is an entire Event currently taking place focusing on Dante.
Gara: True, but you forgot one thing... I'm mentioned in that event... So, haha!
Leif: That... Alright, you got me there.