The words hung in the air in front of him, sharp and unmistakably real.

  Despite everything that had happened since he’d woken up, a small, stubborn part of Ethan had wondered if this was nothing more than a lucid dream, his mind’s final mercy before death. He hadn’t wanted to believe that, but the thought had lingered all the same, quiet and persistent.

  Now, faced once more with the system’s presence, that doubt vanished.

  The message remained suspended in the white space, radiating the same indifferent authority he remembered all too well. A heartbeat passed. Then more words followed, unfolding line by line.

  To enter the Trials, please select a class.

  [Rogue] [Warrior] [Mage] [Laborer] [Scholar] [Gardener]

  The results didn’t differ from the first time. He had come to learn that the classes offered were a result of accumulated life experience before entering the trials. A part of him had wondered if he’d perhaps get something different. After all, he wasn’t remotely the same person he had been. But the system didn’t seem to notice. Which was odd. Unless he was wrong about how classes were offered.

  He pushed it aside and focused on the notification. For a moment, his attention drifted to Mage. He remembered the Sage of Elements, how the man had stood above the battlefield, bending fire, lightning, wind, and earth as if the world itself had chosen him as its instrument. Even others like the LightFather had all stemmed from the mage class.

  They were walking calamities by any measure.

  There was no denying the appeal. If Ethan had possessed even a fraction of that raw power when the Demon King emerged, things might have ended differently.

  The thought lingered, tempting. But it quickly faded. Ethan exhaled slowly, the answer already clear.

  He knew who he was.

  He wasn’t meant to stand at the back of a battlefield, shaping destruction from afar. He wasn’t built to command the world to obey him. His place had always been closer, where the noise was loudest, where the violence was thickest, where others could stand behind him and breathe a little easier.

  He was the one who endured. The one who held the line. A defender of the weak.

  That truth hadn’t changed. No matter how the world had ended.

  Still, that didn’t mean his path could remain the same. The memory of the Demon King rose unbidden: the crushing pressure of its presence, the way hope had withered just by standing near it. The way its sheer presence robbed so much of his strength. If the Sovereigns hadn’t driven it to the brink of death first, Ethan had no illusions, he would have been swatted aside like an insect, even if he had technically just entered the same threshold of power. Levels meant little in comparison to cultivation and how you structure your build.

  One thing was clear. His path had to change if he wanted to make a difference.

  But the foundation it was built on could not.

  Without further hesitation, Ethan reached out and made his choice.

  [Warrior]

  The other options dissolved into nothing the instant his selection registered.

  Congratulations, participant.

  You have selected the Warrior class.

  Proceed into the Trials and uncover your potential.

  The words faded, and weight settled into his hand.

  A sword manifested in his hands, a plain sheath covering the blade, leaving only the metal hilt and cross guard exposed. His fingers tightened around the hilt, familiarity grounding him despite the weakness of his body. Immediately he knew he made the correct decision.

  Then the white space began to collapse.

  The world folded inward, light stretching and warping until Ethan lost all sense of direction. Gravity returned all at once, followed by heat. Blinding, oppressive heat.

  Sand crunched beneath his shoes as he stumbled forward.

  Above him, a blazing sun burned in a cloudless sky. In every direction stretched rolling dunes of pale gold, broken only by jagged rock formations and distant heat haze.

  Ethan steadied himself, lifted his sword, and took his first breath of scorching air.

  More words hovered in the air before him.

  Welcome to level One: the Endless Desert.

  To complete this level, participants must travel through the Mirage Fields and enter the Oasis.

  Good luck.

  Ethan let out a slow breath and pulled the bandanna up over his mouth, securing it tight against the heat and grit already stinging his skin. He fastened his sword at his waist. His pack rested firmly on his shoulders, straps already damp as sweat clung to his skin beneath the linen shirt. The vest underneath made it warmer than he liked.

  He turned slowly, orienting himself by the horizon. The desert stretched endlessly in every direction, dunes rolling like a frozen sea beneath the burning sky. Then he saw them. Large jagged stone formations rising in the distance.

  Exactly where they should be.

  The realization settled in quickly. This was the same starting point. The same placement as his first time through.

  Last time, he had wandered the sands for weeks, half-delirious by the end of it. He’d chased mirages, wasted water, and nearly died before finally deciding to head toward those distant rocks. That decision had led him to civilization, to the settlement hidden among stone and shade.

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  This time, there was no hesitation. He started walking.

  Sand swallowed his boots with every step, dragging at him, but he pushed the sensation aside and settled into a steady pace. As he moved, he called his status to mind. He didn’t need to speak or gesture. Just the intent was enough.

  The familiar page appeared in his mind’s eye.

  Name: Ethan Carter

  Level: 1

  Class: Warrior

  Cultivation:

  ? Core — Unawakened

  ? Body — Unawakened

  Attributes:

  ? Strength: 7

  ? Endurance: 9

  ? Agility: 6

  ? Perception: 8

  ? Willpower: 10

  Skills:

  ? None

  It was… depressing.

  He’d once pushed these numbers well into the hundreds. Now they were stripped bare, reduced to the foundation of a boy who hadn’t yet been tempered by the trials. Still, that wasn’t why he’d called it up.

  His gaze dropped to the option lingering beneath the rest.

  Shop.

  Ethan selected it.

  Welcome to the travelling shop. You have one starter skill and five items you may purchase. To gain access to more items please visit a settlement monolith. To gain access to more skills please advance to level ten.

  A list unfolded, skills, items, consumables, utilities. He checked his balance and winced.

  PO: 201

  Potential. A currency that measured growth available to spend. In Ethan’s opinion, it was one of the system’s better ideas. You earned it through survival, through breakthroughs, through feats the system deemed meaningful. Not just by killing. Cultivation, level thresholds, and clearing levels all contributed.

  The problem was that Ethan was starting with almost nothing.

  Compared to humanity’s first entrants, it was a joke. And by now, those bastards had monopolized the power. But that didn’t matter. Ethan wasn’t looking for power.

  He was looking for a solid foundation.

  He ignored the items and supplies. Anything he could afford, he’d already brought with him. Anything worth buying was far beyond his reach. Instead, he scrolled through the skills.

  Most were mediocre. Others were tempting but far too expensive. Instead, he scrolled through until he found the cheaper, often discarded skills.

  Then he found it.

  A skill that had been overlooked for years. It was a skill Bjorn, one of the first sovereigns, had mastered. He had been one of the strongest humanity had to offer until he perished on the seventh level. Once others realized how powerful it could become, they were too late. Their skill slots filled up.

  Ethan didn’t hesitate and bought the skill. The moment the purchase finalized, Ethan felt it.

  His footing shifted. The sand beneath his boots felt firmer, less eager to give way. His weight settled naturally, balance adjusting without conscious effort. Each step became more certain, more controlled.

  The skill was the kind of purchase people ignored in favor of louder, flashier abilities. It didn’t kill things faster. It didn’t look impressive. But in time, and with the right advancement it became something extraordinary.

  He looked at the description.

  Steadfast

  Improves balance and stance stability. Reduces the likelihood of being staggered or knocked down when subjected to sudden force, unstable terrain, or impact.

  The only downside was his PO was practically zero. He knew it would grow once more, especially after he really got started with this level, but it still hurt.

  He closed the shop and checked his skills list.

  Skills: (1/10)

  ? Steadfast Lv.1 (Common)

  Ethan nodded once, satisfied.

  Then he continued toward the rocks.

  The sun sank lower as the hours passed, heat bleeding slowly from the air. Wind began to pick up, carrying sand with it in sharp, stinging bursts. When dusk finally crept in, Ethan stopped between two dunes where the ground dipped slightly, offering what little shelter the desert allowed.

  Ethan had made good progress.

  By his estimates, it would take less than a week to reach the settlement. That alone spoke to the insidious nature of the first level’s design. Weeks in an endless desert wasn’t something most people could endure, not physically, not mentally. It was meant to thin the herd. To grind down the weak long before monsters ever had a chance to finish the job.

  To make matters worse, the system ensured no shortcuts endured. Any structures built to aid others were eventually swallowed by the shifting dunes, erased as though they had never existed. The journey to civilization was normally a solitary one, filled with torment from heat, exhaustion, and hunger. Luckily for Ethan, he was well prepared.

  He reached into his pack with a satisfied sigh and pulled out some food.

  After finishing a protein bar and taking a careful sip of water, Ethan pushed himself to his feet.

  He moved away from where he had been seated and drew his sword.

  The blade was shorter than what he was used to. Still, it felt right in his hands. After wielding a sword for so many years, size and shape mattered less than balance and intent. Of course, he would have performed better with a greatsword—but that wasn’t an option right now.

  He exhaled slowly and raised the blade.

  The weight surprised him.

  For a moment, Ethan frowned. Then the realization settled in, and he had to take back his last thought. He couldn’t wield a greatsword anymore, not with this body. Not with this strength. The truth stung more than he expected. But after a short moment, he smiled. Then laughed. Despite being alone, trapped in a desert, this was the happiest Ethan had been in a very, very long time. He finally had the chance to make a real difference. To grow stronger than he originally thought possible.

  He forced himself to stop laughing; he had things to do. Adaptation came first. And to do that, his body needed to adjust to his new way of living. There was only one way to do that.

  Through hard work.

  He adjusted his grip, hands tightening around the hilt, and lifted the sword overhead before bringing it down in a controlled arc. He halted the momentum cleanly, the blade stopping in line with his hips. His shoulders protested immediately, unfamiliar strain biting deep.

  He raised the sword again.

  And again.

  Over and over, he repeated the movement, forcing muscles into motion that his body barely knew existed. Sweat rolled down his brow as the sun dipped lower, heat lingering even as dusk approached. Each repetition brought small adjustments.

  His mind drifted despite his efforts.

  The final battle rose unbidden. The bodies. The screams. All the deaths he hadn’t been strong enough to prevent.

  He slashed again, frustration bleeding into the motion.

  But he didn’t let it consume him.

  Even as his movements grew more aggressive, the foundation remained. Control first. Power second. His old habits from years of survival refused to break.

  Then the system intervened.

  Skill learned: Sword Mastery.

  Do you wish to incorporate this skill?

  Yes / No

  Ethan halted mid-motion and drove the sword point-first into the sand. He stared at the notification, breathing hard, and wiped his forehead.

  It had appeared far faster than it had the first time.

  But he supposed that made sense. He wasn’t a beginner, not really. His body just hadn’t caught up yet.

  He accepted the skill. Even though he knew it wouldn’t provide much for him yet. He needed it for future evolutions and was a key component to his eventual skill fusion.

  The sensation that followed was subtle. The knowledge settled into him, reinforcing movements he already understood rather than teaching anything new. His body simply needed time to remember how to execute them properly.

  The skill claimed another slot.

  Satisfied, Ethan reached for his pack to take another sip of water.

  Then a scream tore through the night. He froze, hand hovering inches from the canteen.

  Last time, he hadn’t encountered anyone before reaching the settlement. But last time, he’d taken far longer to get this far.

  Ethan was already moving.

  He slung his pack onto his back, yanked the sword free from the sand, and broke into a run, feet pounding against the dunes as he angled toward the sound of violence echoing through the desert.