The sky was dark, heavy clouds drifting slowly across the heavens.
The wind howled violently, tearing leaves from the trees and flinging them into the air. From time to time, lightning split the sky, its flash carving white scars across the darkness.
In the middle of a forest clearing surrounded by towering trees, a girl knelt weakly on the ground.
She was barely conscious.
Her clothes were torn in several places, blood still flowing from countless wounds across her body. An iron chain remained shackled tightly around one of her ankles.
With trembling hands, the girl used the blood seeping from her thumb to draw a five-pointed star on the ground. Around the pentagram, she etched ancient magical characters, forming a circular spell array.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away roughly before pulling out a yellowed sheet of paper from her pocket. Its edges were torn, proof that it had been ripped from a forbidden spellbook she had stolen at the cost of her life.
"Today... you will receive the fate you deserve for the cruelty you inflicted upon us," she whispered through clenched teeth.
Hatred and vengeance churned violently within her chest.
Her long hair flowed freely in the raging wind. Her eyes burned with a fierce light, filled with memories of agony. Images of her entire family being brutally slaughtered replayed endlessly in her mind.
"Zenoriza mendora ziusta shizkina merinista merilis debutia el destrona, vastiga Rei Beheroth!"
Her lips trembled as she recited the ancient incantation written on the yellowed page.
Suddenly, the wind intensified.
Trees around the clearing swayed violently as if caught in a furious storm. The girl spread her arms wide and lifted her face toward the sky, her eyes tightly shut.
She steeled her resolve.
She would sell her soul to a malevolent spirit if that was the price required to fulfill her revenge.
"O spirit king of darkness! Spirit born of hatred!" she screamed with all her strength.
"Awaken from your slumber! I summon you to stand beside me! Fulfill my wish, and in exchange, I offer you my body and soul!"
Lightning erupted from the heavens, striking the ground where the magic circle was drawn.
A thunderous explosion echoed throughout the dark forest.
The girl's body was thrown into the air by the blast before crashing violently onto the ground nearby. Several parts of her body were scorched. Her breathing was ragged and shallow.
Had the summoning failed?
If it had, then everything she had sacrificed would have been meaningless.
She lay there, unable to move.
Tears welled up and spilled from the corners of her eyes. Perhaps her life would end here after all. Her family's deaths would never be avenged. Injustice would continue to reign freely in this world.
She closed her eyes.
The pain in her body was nothing compared to the pain crushing her heart.
Slowly, the storm subsided.
The dark clouds drifted away. The air grew calm once more, gentle instead of violent. Sunlight began to break through the sky.
"Err... hi?"
A male voice suddenly spoke.
The girl's eyes snapped open.
"Um... can I ask, where is this? What's the name of this place?"
A young man stood a short distance away from her.
"So the Dark King's appearance isn't much different from the races of this world," the girl muttered with a weak smile.
"It seems my summoning was successful."
"I... don't understand what you're talking about," the young man replied.
"You are the Dark King who fell in the great war," she said. "I summoned you to help me."
"What are you saying? Dark spirit? What spirit? I'm human!" the young man scratched his head in confusion.
A cold breeze suddenly passed by.
The young man shivered violently.
Only then did he realize something was terribly wrong.
He was naked.
His face instantly turned bright red. Without another word, he bolted into the nearby bushes.
"Hey! Dark spirit, don't run away!" the girl shouted.
"You must fulfill my wish! I'm the one who summoned you!"
"I-I'm not running! I'm just embarrassed!" came the reply from behind the bushes.
"I'm not a dark spirit like you said! My name is Firaz!"
His tone dropped all formalities.
"So you're a dark spirit named Firaz," the girl said calmly.
"Very well. My name is Monalisa. You can call me Mona. You may come out now. No need to be shy."
"How can I not be shy? I'm not wearing anything!" Firaz protested.
"Why should you be embarrassed?" Mona replied flatly. "Am I not your master?"
Firaz fell silent.
Why is she my master now? What kind of woman is this Mona? She's way too casual about a naked guy...
Mona clicked her tongue in annoyance when Firaz refused to come out.
"Even dark spirits feel shame?"
She pulled out a piece of cloth from her shoulder bag and tossed it toward the bushes.
"Here. Take this. Cover yourself first, then come out."
Firaz quickly wrapped the cloth around his waist, barely enough to cover what needed covering. Holding it tightly, he stepped out awkwardly, shuffling toward Mona.
Mona observed him quietly.
"Are you really the dark spirit I summoned?" she muttered, doubt creeping into her voice.
"I don't know myself," Firaz replied honestly. "I don't even know why I'm here."
Mona fell silent.
Perhaps she had recited the spell incorrectly.
Disappointment washed over her. If so, all her sacrifices to steal that page from the forbidden grimoire had been in vain.
She lay back down weakly, letting out a heavy sigh.
Firaz tried to recall what had happened before he was summoned.
"I... I think I died while doing a mission?" he muttered.
"Or did I respawn?"
He opened the holographic game menu.
It responded.
Which meant he was still inside a virtual world.
He opened the information tab.
There was nothing there.
A translucent hologram floated in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Mona asked, confused, watching Firaz move his hands through empty air.
"You can't see this menu hologram?" Firaz asked.
"What menu? I don't understand."
"So... you're not a player? Are you an NPC?"
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Mona snapped.
"I don't understand any of it! Whatever! Just remember, you must fulfill my request. I summoned you here. In return, you may take my soul."
Firaz frowned, looking at Mona's severely injured body.
Arguing could wait.
Healing came first.
His fingers danced across the hologram as he opened his inventory, searching for a healing tonic.
"Yes! Found it!"
With a grin, he tapped the icon.
Sparkling particles appeared out of thin air, merging into a dark red potion bottle in his palm.
"Here," Firaz said, handing it to her.
"Drink this first. It should at least help with your injuries."
Mona's eyes widened as she took the bottle.
"I see... so this is how you use magic," she murmured.
"My summoning truly wasn't a failure after all."
Firaz nodded vaguely. Explaining the game system felt pointless. Let her believe it was magic.
"Drink it. It works fast," he said.
"I need to change my clothes."
He disappeared back into the bushes.
Opening his inventory again, Firaz froze.
Inside were countless equipment sets, all at the highest level.
Then he checked his skill slots.
Hundreds of skills. Combat, crafting, everything.
"Whoa... is this a bug?"
"Thanks, GM!"
"Firaz?" Mona called out. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" he shouted back.
He tried equipping a powerful armor set.
Nothing happened.
"Huh? Why can't I wear this?"
His eyes shifted to the requirements.
"Level 57... and I'm level..."
He looked at his own status.
Level 1.
He exhaled deeply.
"Useless. What's the point of having high-level gear if I can't wear it?"
"Why did my level reset to one? Damn it, GM..."
With no choice, he equipped basic leather armor instead and moved on to choosing a weapon.
Suddenly, Mona screamed.
Firaz peeked out from the bushes.
Mona had collapsed, an arrow piercing her thigh.
Moments later, several armed men emerged from the forest.
"There! That's the witch who escaped!" one of them shouted.
"Capture her!" another yelled.
"We burn witches alive!"
They rushed toward the wounded Mona.
"Firaz! Please help me!" Mona cried, terror flooding her face.
"I can't move!"
Firaz froze.
The memory of being brutally murdered by players from Laughing Coffin still haunted him.
Fear rooted him to the spot.
If he stepped out, could he survive?
He didn't want to die again.
Death hurt.
Too much.