The first thing I noticed when I woke again was silence.
No screams, no footsteps, no companions. Just the low hum of power in the air, the ceaseless boom of thunder, and the ache of my own breathing.
I dragged myself upright, every muscle raw, skin still smoking faintly where the lightning had carved me. My sword lay in pieces beside me, melted beyond recognition. But when I opened my palm, the storm answered.
Purple lightning crackled in my hand — alive, restless, hungry.
And then… the voice came.
—[Initialization complete. Unknown Class recognized. System linkage established.]
A screen blinked into existence before me, not like the clear blue interfaces I had seen other hunters use. This one was jagged, unstable, lines of violet light bleeding across it like veins.
Name: Ashura Bellet
Class: [???]
Rank: Undefined
Attributes:
Strength: 11
Agility: 12
Vitality: 10
Intelligence: 9
Willpower: 15
Perception: 12
Charisma: 6
Unique Attribute: Purple Lightning (Dormant)
— A fragment of the nameless storm. Can destroy, paralyze, or devour other energies.
Note: Evolution path unknown. System guidance incomplete.
My throat went dry.
This wasn't like any system I'd ever seen. No neat classifications, no god's emblem stamped at the bottom, no glowing arrows showing me how to evolve. Just broken words, undefined ranks, and that one line that made my chest tighten.
Nameless storm.
Who… or what had given this to me?
The first monster found me before I could answer that question.
It wasn't a slime this time. No — this thing was born of the dungeon itself. Its body was smoke and flesh, warped and jagged, eyes glowing like molten sparks. Purple lightning crawled across its hide as it slithered forward, hissing.
The old me would've frozen. Would've begged for help, or turned to run. But now…
The storm in my veins roared.
I raised my hand, and the lightning answered.
"Come on, then."
The creature lunged. My arm snapped forward. Purple lightning burst from my palm, tearing through the beast's body. It shrieked, convulsed, then exploded into ash.
For a moment, I just stared at my hand. At the smoke curling from my fingertips. At the raw, violent beauty of it.
And then the system chimed again.
—[Strength +1. Agility +1. Willpower +1.]
That was the beginning.
Days blurred into nights, though in this place it was impossible to tell them apart. I hunted the dungeon's creatures relentlessly — wolves with lightning in their fangs, winged serpents that struck from the storm clouds, shadow-born things that fed on fear.
Each battle nearly killed me. Each wound pushed me closer to collapse. But each victory made me stronger.
The system kept updating, jagged text scrawling itself across the violet screen.
Current Stats:
Strength: 21
Agility: 23
Vitality: 18
Intelligence: 16
Willpower: 28
Perception: 22
Charisma: 8
Unique Attribute: Purple Lightning (Awakening)
— Now capable of shaping into three techniques:
Bolt: A concentrated discharge. Fast, lethal. Veil: A thin layer of lightning around the body. Increases speed and defense. Field: A storm zone that disrupts energy and paralyzes weak enemies.
Every strike, every kill, every scar carved into my skin built something new inside me. Not just power — clarity.
This system wasn't here to guide me. It wasn't here to coddle me like the gods' blessings. It was here to test me.
To see if I'd burn… or if I'd survive.
And by the time my stats scraped their way to thirty-five, by the time I could split the sky with a scream and wreathe myself in lightning, I knew the answer.
I wasn't weak anymore.
Not timid. Not hesitant. Not disposable.
I was Ashura Bellet. The storm's chosen.
And when I stepped out of this dungeon, the world would finally understand that.