It was past noon, and the air was cool, brushing against the skin with a faint evening breeze. The skies were tinged with a dull, gray light, as if the city was reluctant to let go of the day.
Noel walked down the dirty streets of the slums at a leisurely pace, a calm look on his face.
The slums were a patchwork of decay — narrow and declining streets, with crumbling and dilapidated houses a common sight. The air smelt like stale food, and the scent of sewage and unwashed bodies clung heavily to the air.
People wearing the thinnest scraps of clothing filled the streets, their hollow eyes devoid of hope, each struggling to make it through another day.
Noel could very well relate to this world, which was so far removed from the bustling districts of New Calden City.
He had lived in poverty all his life, and it was precisely because he had suffered for so long that he was so desperate to escape its iron grip. It was what fueled his desire to awaken and become a Hunter in the first place.
Noel let out a bitter sigh and shook his head.
Now that he had been given a second chance by the mysterious system, he would do everything in his power to ensure his fate was no longer chained to these miserable streets. He would change his life, and he would save Julius.
He walked deeper into the slums, where even the meagre signs of life dwindled. Here, the few individuals that roamed the streets had a different air about them. They were individuals with sharp eyes and nimble fingers, their gaunt figures watching newcomers with predatory gazes.
Noel met their gazes without fear, his eyes cold and unreadable. The men glanced at him for a moment, but in the next second, they ultimately turned their attention elsewhere. They weren't foolish enough to provoke an awakened individual.
Soon, he arrived at a dilapidated two-story building wedged between two half-collapsed structures. The outer walls were a mess of cracked plaster and moldy bricks, and the roof sagged precariously under its weight.
Noel paid the dilapidated building no mind and climbed the flight of creaking stairs up to his living quarters, his footsteps steady. Fishing out a rusted key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and entered his home.
The inside of the room was as miserable as one might expect. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, flickering weakly. The walls were stained with water damage, the wallpaper peeling off like rotted skin, and a thin, tattered mattress rested on a metal frame that groaned under any weight.
Naturally, Noel didn't want to live here either, but his circumstances did not allow him to rent a better place. Besides, the rent was exceedingly cheap.
With a dull thud, Noel carelessly dropped his duffel bag, kicked off his boots, and collapsed onto his creaky bed, despite the loud protests from the springs underneath his bed.
He stared up at the cracked ceiling with a heavy heart and a solemn look on his face.
When he remembered the events that happened today, he couldn't help the solemn expression that appeared on his face.
He had very nearly died.
Since he had awakened and become a Hunter, he had been risking his life almost every day, but today was different. It was the first time that he had come so close to death, and there was only one reason for that.
He was weak.
He was far too weak.
Up until now, he had foolishly thought that as long as he put in the effort, cultivated diligently and expanded his Mana Pool into a Mana Stream, he would no longer have to struggle at the bottom; but today had taught him a brutal lesson, and he found out how laughable his thoughts were.
What did hard work matter if he couldn't become strong from it?
In this world, strength was all that mattered.
Noel sat up from his bed, his eyes burning with cold determination as he came to a serious decision.
He couldn't afford to continue like this.
He had to become stronger.
Fortunately, he now had an advantage no one else did, and that was the system!
Without wasting another second, Noel pulled up his status screen.
___
[Host: Noel Augustus]
[Age: 18]
[Mana Cultivation: Mana Pool]
[Mana: 100%]
[Class: Necromancer]
[Realm: Novice]
[Health: 100%]
[Stamina: 100%]
[Undead Contracted: 1/3]
[Skills:
[Blessings: None]
___
Noel tapped on the [Undead Contracted] tab, and the screen instantly shifted, revealing the details of his only undead.
___
[Undead: Kaiser]
[Type: Undead Warrior]
[Rank: Warden]
[Class: Berserker]
[HP: 10,000/10,000]
[Evolution Progress: 0/5000 SP]
___
He stared at the screen for a few moments, then exhaled slowly.
"Sure enough," Noel muttered under his breath, disappointment flashing in his eyes.
"When the Undead Knight died, I thought I had gotten my hands on a Marshal-level undead, but it seems that it was merely a pipe dream." Noel grumbled as his gaze lingered on the word Warden.
"No wonder the soul contract succeeded so easily. The undead knight must have been nerfed and reduced to a Warden-level existence."
Noel felt a mixture of frustration and helplessness as his dreams of moving unhindered in D-rank rifts and below were ruthlessly shattered.
He slumped back onto his bed in frustration, staring up at the rotted ceiling. However, when his eyes drifted lower on the screen, his body suddenly stiffened, and he bolted upright.
Noel blinked once, then again, rubbing his eyes frantically as if trying to clear away an illusion.
Class: Berserker
"A class?!" Noel exclaimed, his voice cracking with disbelief.
He stared at the word again to make sure that he hadn't hallucinated, but the words remained firm, and showed no signs of changing.
"Classes are supposed to be exclusive to the Awakened, and yet, Kaiser has a class?!" Noel muttered, almost laughing out of sheer shock.
He paced around the room a few times, trying his best to wrap his mind around it.
Just as he was about to settle down in excitement, his eyes caught the very bottom of Kaiser's details, and what he saw next nearly gave him a heart attack.
Evolution Progress: 0/5000 SP
Evolution!
Noel's breath hitched, and his mind spun countless times in the span of a second.
"Evolution?"
"That's impossible! Necromancers can't evolve their undead! It's been that way for over a millennium!" Noel cried out in disbelief.
The history of the world was clear on this: Necromancers could enhance their undead, but that process cost a fortune in rare resources and was hardly efficient.
Evolution, on the other hand, which was true and natural growth, and it was completely unheard of!
Yet, here it was, right in front of his eyes.
His undead could evolve.
His heart thundered against his ribs like a war drum, and he felt a chill crawl down his spine.
"SP...? What are those?" Noel frowned, his excitement cooling slightly when he noticed the requirement for evolution.
He stared harder at the screen, and as if responding to his confusion, a crisp [Ping!] echoed inside his head.
[SP (Soul Points) are unique points awarded exclusively by the System when the Host defeats monsters or enemies within Rifts.]
"You mean I can only get SP by killing monsters inside rifts?!" Noel's mouth fell open slightly, his heart pounded even harder, and he could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins.
It was now that he truly realized just how abnormal his system was.
"This changes everything." Noel breathed, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.
For the first time, he truly realized just how abnormal his system was.
He didn't care anymore where it came from, or why he had been chosen, but he would be a fool not to make use of the opportunity presented to him.
It was going to be a brutal and bloody road ahead, but at the same time, it was a road he was prepared to walk!
A sharp, fierce grin spread across his face.
He would use this gift, he would save Julius, and he would carve his legend into the annals of history!
***
In a towering skyscraper at the heart of New Calden City, far from the dirt and filth of the slums, an expansive, luxurious office sat on the top floor.
The office was adorned with dark mahogany shelves lined with ancient books and rare artifacts. A massive floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the sprawling cityscape, and a plush crimson carpet covered the polished wooden floors.
In this luxurious office, a middle-aged man sat behind a heavy desk made of black marble, leisurely reviewing a digital report. This man had sharp, aristocratic features: short-cropped white hair, a meticulously trimmed white beard, and piercing gray eyes that gave him a refined yet dangerous air.
He wore a red tailored three-piece suit that emphasized the strength still lingering in his frame despite his age, and his aura felt as vast as the ocean.
This man was none other than Aaron Voss, an Elder of the Hunter Association.
Standing respectfully before him was Roberts, the official who had led the investigation earlier in the day.
"Reporting on the incident at the F-rank Rift, sir." Roberts saluted, his voice filled with deep respect and reverence.
"Go ahead." Aaron glanced up from the digital report, turning his attention to Roberts.
Roberts wasted no time relaying the unusual details: the ancient seals inside the rift, the sudden appearance of the Undead Knight, the ancient runes embedded into the walls, the presence of the ancient seals, and the unexpected death toll.
Aaron listened silently, and when Roberts finished, his expression was unreadable.
"Ancient seals inside a mere F-rank rift…" He leaned back into his chair, tapping a finger against the desk thoughtfully.
"This is interesting. Keep an eye out for any future rifts that show similar characteristics, and report immediately if you find another." Aaron chuckled softly to himself, his gray eyes reflecting a strange light.
"Understood, sir." Roberts nodded. He then hesitated for a moment before asking.
"And what about Noel Augustus? The sole survivor of the incident?"
"No need to bother about him for now. If you wish to, put him under light observation, but nothing more than that." Aaron smiled faintly, a gesture that didn't quite reach his cold eyes.
"Understood, Elder Voss." Roberts straightened and saluted once again.
"You're dismissed." Aaron responded, already turning his focus back to the digital report he had on his desk.
Without another word, Roberts turned on his heel and left the grand office, the heavy doors closing silently behind him.