Chapter 92: The Hunter Awakens (1)

In an ancient, desolate city drowned in fog, silence prevailed.

An absolute stillness seeped through its corners, deepening its gloom and suffocating weight.

Old Ashvarn… the forgotten city.

A cursed land that had become endless—no one knew where it began or where it ended.

Those who entered it became prisoners of its vast maze.

A labyrinth from which no one had ever found an exit.

And now, the unfortunate hunters… had become its latest victims.

It took no more than a single hour for many of them to fall, one after another.

The weak were the first to die.

Only the strong remained, carving their survival through blood and desperation.

Among the many battle-scarred zones, one old street stood out—

its stone ground painted with layers of blood, some clotted and old… others fresh and still warm.

The street lay empty.

Save for the corpse of a giant—its body torn open, abdomen split apart, its face charred beyond recognition.

Before it, a trail of bloody footprints staggered forward, leading toward a nearby structure.

Whoever made them had faltered… unable to go any further.

They collapsed at the threshold of the first building they reached.

There, riddled with wounds, Ethan Heart lay unconscious—completely drained.

Exposed. Defenseless.

All it would take was a single wandering monster… and his life would end.

But was it luck? Or something deeper?

Despite remaining unconscious for a long time, he survived untouched.

His only battle now was against his injuries… against death itself.

Lost in darkness, Ethan drifted—as he always did whenever those crimson eyes closed.

He was sinking.

Into nothingness.

And once again… he heard it.

The sound of a child crying.

A constant wail… as if it had just been born into the void.

Ethan tried to reach it … again and again.

But the child was swallowed by a deeper darkness… one he could not penetrate.

Condemned to remain an orphan of the void.

All he wanted… was to see its face. Just once.

But that wish was never granted.

Moments later, Ethan awakened.

His consciousness returned abruptly, pulling him out of the abyss.

The first thing he saw… was a worn wooden ceiling, coated in dust …

its corners filled with cobwebs and decay.

Realizing his situation instantly, he tried to stand—

only for a surge of unbearable pain to crash through his body, making even movement difficult.

Only then did the memories return.

The feral inhabitants… stabbing into the giant’s corpse… while he was still inside it.

He had endured it.

Despite blades and tools piercing through him again and again.

Endured it inside the monster’s body—covered in filth and entrails …

vomiting repeatedly, nearly losing consciousness from sheer nausea alone.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to assess his surroundings.

And quickly realized… something was wrong.

This was not the same building he had crawled into before losing consciousness.

“Where am I…?”

He rose carefully, every movement deliberate.

His body was far beyond human—demonic in endurance, with enhanced recovery.

Yet even so… his condition severely limited him.

“It feels like I’ve been asleep for a month…”

Pressing his hand over his right eye, he endured the pounding headache while instinctively checking his injuries.

Then—he froze.

His body… was clean.

The blood and filth were gone.

His severe wounds… had been bandaged with care.

Ethan realized immediately.

“I’m not alone…”

Suppressing his presence, he moved along the wall silently …

approaching the door with extreme caution as he opened his Player System interface.

’Judging by how I was treated… it’s probably one of the hunters.’

That was the logical conclusion.

Yet instead of calling out …

Ethan grew even more cautious.

He slowly opened the door just enough to take a glance outside.

Anyone else would have called for their allies the moment they saw those bandages.

But not Ethan.

’This is a cursed land… filled with monsters and nightmares.

The moment I lower my guard… becomes my funeral.’

Before his crimson eyes, his current stats and Blessing notifications appeared.

…

Name: Ethan Heart

Class: No Class

Level: 29

Current Souls: 1200 Souls

Souls Required for Next Level: 4900 Souls

Vigor: 11 (Increases HP)

MP: 24 (Increases Mana)

Endurance: 24 (Increases Stamina)

Strength: 10 (Boosts heavy weapon damage)

Dexterity: 10 (Boosts speed-based weapon damage)

Intelligence: 10 (Enhances magic power)

Faith: 10 (Enhances sacred incantations)

Arcane: 10 (Increases luck, bleed effects)

…

Blessings:

[The Last Legendary Weapons Master]

Executioner Sword

Ash of War: Telekinesis

Legion Arm: Level 2

Souls Required for Next Level: 10000 Souls

…

[Blood of the Old Gods]

Humans die once.

Shadows may die twice.

But gods… never die.

And neither do you.

…

[Eventual Greatness]

A complete restriction on all stats… in exchange for a permanent increase proportional to the time the player endures while restrained.

…

[Demonic Body]

The body and strength of a demon… in exchange for the loss of humanity.

…

[Night Lord’s Aura]

An aura that multiplies the offensive power of any weapon several times over… at the cost of reducing defense to 1.

…

[Class Change at Will]

The ability to switch classes freely… at the cost of increased leveling requirements.

Cooldown: 0:00:00

…

???

…

The moment Ethan glanced at his Player Interface, a sense of relief washed over him.

A slow smile spread across his face.

He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious…

but it had been long enough for the cooldown on his ability—Class Change at Will—to completely vanish.

At last… he could change classes again.

He had been trapped as a mage …

a mage who didn’t even know a single spell …

forced to rely entirely on the Legion Arm that had barely kept him alive.

But now… everything had changed.

’If I had been able to use the Executioner Sword earlier…

I wouldn’t have ended up like that.’

Now, however—

’…I can fight.’

That single realization brought him comfort.

Enough comfort… to lower his guard without realizing it.

So much so… that he failed to notice someone approaching.

“Ah… you’re finally awake.”

A soft, unfamiliar voice came from beyond the door.

A feminine voice—gentle, sweet—brushing against Ethan’s ears as he froze, hand gripping the doorknob.

Through the small crack he had opened earlier,

he could see the shadow of someone standing on the other side.

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