Mors focused on the sub-panel, and it expanded at once.
— ◈ —
[ FORSAKEN RECORD ]
Name: Mors
Age: 18
Race: Human
Affiliation: First Ring – Decimus ( Tenth Earthling Sanctuary )
Forsaken Rank: Iron III
Merit: 0 / 100
Aether Core: Stage I ( Awakened )
Level: 1
Aspect: Druid
Power Rating: 160
Leifs: 0
[ QUESTS (Expand) ]
— ◈ —
Mors gave a small nod.
The Forsaken Record was a simplified version of his main panel. The difference was privacy. Sanctuary authorities could only view this record, while his abilities, curse, boon, and other personal details remained hidden.
Only the essentials were visible, and even then the authorities were bound by an Absolute Law to never reveal them.
The Forsaken Earthlings and the Dryads existed in a symbiotic relationship. The Dryads could not leave the Sanctuary, and the Forsaken could not survive in the wilderness forever.
The balance was simple. The Dryads provided quests, equipment, potions, and other resources. In return, the Forsaken ventured beyond the Sanctuary's borders.
When it came to Aspects, concealment was impossible. The Sigil made that clear. Each of the 12 Beginner Aspects bore a distinct design.
His own Druid Sigil was a stag's head, enclosed within a perfect circle.
Aiko's, on the other hand, bore a set of balanced scales inside a circle, unmistakably marking her as a Cleric.
Finally, Mors's eyes settled on his Forsaken Rank.
It functioned much like an Adventurer's rank. By completing quests and performing services for the Sanctuary, his Merit would increase. Once it reached its limit, he would advance to the next subdivision automatically.
Higher ranks unlocked better quests, stronger connections, and greater privileges within the Sanctuary. If he ever wanted to found a Guild of his own, he would need to reach at least Platinum Rank.
The Forsaken hierarchy was straightforward:
Iron → Bronze → Silver → Gold → Platinum → Diamond → Mythril → Crown → ?!
Each rank was further divided into:
III → II → I
Which meant he was currently at the very bottom.
Mors exhaled softly. 'How long will it take to reach Platinum?'
He already had vague plans of forming his own Guild someday. All he would need then was a reliable vice leader to handle the paperwork and bureaucracy.
He turned slightly and glanced at Aiko. She tilted her head at him, puzzled by his look.
'She looks like the bookworm type,' he thought, a slow smile touching his lips before he faced forward again.
Lily brought her hands together in a light clap. "Welcome again to the Decimus Branch of the Forsaken Hall, Mors. As a gift to newcomers, we provide 1000 Leifs. Use them to equip yourself properly."
She brushed her fingers over the crystal orb on the counter.
A panel appeared before Mors.
[ You gained 1000 Leifs from Lily White. ]
Mors's smile turned genuine this time. The Sanctuary provided an initial fund so newcomers would not die the moment they stepped outside its walls.
It was more of an investment than charity, and thankfully, unlike Earth, it did not come with debt attached.
'The Dryads are surprisingly generous,' he thought, rubbing his palms together.
"Thanks, Lily," he said with a grin.
"Hehe… you're welcome. It is a gift from the Sanctuary. Now—"
She paused.
The Sigil on her hand, a perfect circle enclosing a tree, began to glow.
From its light, a black glove slowly formed, warping into existence in her palm.
The Origin Sigil served many purposes, one of the most important being a personal spatial storage bound directly to the soul.
At its earliest stage, it could hold roughly the volume of a 3 meter cube. As one's soul grew stronger, the internal space expanded alongside it.
Nothing stored inside would decay. Living creatures with an active soul could not be placed within it.
If the owner died, everything inside would be cast into the void.
It was both a blessing and an asset.
Unlike humans, every Dryad had a sigil shaped like a tree. They were not part of the 12 Beginner Aspects, and Mors had no idea what their true power revolved around.
Lily finally grabbed the black glove and held it out to Mors. "Here, this is a personal gift from me."
She winked at him as she spoke.
Mors raised an eyebrow and took the glove. It was black and soft, like something an aristocrat would wear.
A panel appeared, displaying its details.
— ◈ —
[ Silken Glove ]
Rank: Common
[ Description: A soft black glove, crafted for a noble lady of old who despised dirt. The glove will always remain clean. ]
— ◈ —
Mors's lips twitched as he looked at Lily. "You do know I'm a man, right?"
"Hehehe…" Lily giggled, her laughter like soft bells. "I already took your hand measurement during our handshake. It's a perfect fit for you. You can use it to hide your sigil, so others won't know your Aspect immediately."
Mors finally nodded. "Thank you, Lily. I'll take you out for dinner once I earn some money."
Lily grinned. "I'll hold you to that, then."
After a bit more conversation to clear up his doubts, Mors stepped back and waited a short distance away for Aiko to finish registering.
* * *
Mors and Aiko left the Hall and descended the white stairs toward the courtyard of the Forsaken Hall.
Aiko wore a pleasant smile as she took in the bustling streets before her.
Carriages drawn by gale horses rattled past. Dryads skipped effortlessly through the trees, and humans in leather armor, their clothes streaked with blood, moved like hunters returning from a kill.
Somehow, it all felt liberating to her, a rare moment away from her parents' watchful eyes. Of course, her life was on a ticking countdown of 60 years due to her curse, but even so… it felt far better than her life on Earth.
Mors watched her as she weaved lightly across the cobblestones.
"What happened to you? You look… happy," he asked.
Aiko shook her head. "It's nothing. I was so nervous when I first arrived because of how dangerous this world seemed. But now… it feels so peaceful that I don't want to go back," she said, pausing to watch the youths moving about.
Mors stopped beside her, taking in the scene himself. He whispered, "Yeah… it does look peaceful—"
KIEEEAAAAKKK!
A piercing scream ripped through the sky before he could finish.
Kh…!
Mors stumbled, collapsing onto his knees as the sound tore through his ears. Blood ran from his eardrums as he clutched his head.
Aiko collapsed beside him, unconscious, her own ears bleeding.
All around them, the weaker and newest batch of humans crumpled to the ground, clutching their heads, their cries mixing with the unbearable sound that still echoed from above.
Mors looked up at the sky, heart hammering, trying to pinpoint the source of the scream. The moment he saw it, a jolt ran through him, and his eyes widened in sheer shock.