[System Update Completed.]
A second notification followed almost immediately.
[You have acquired a new Attribute: 'Ancient Dreamer.']
Class: Divine
[You have acquired a new Skill: 'Ancient Tongue.']
Noah barely had time to register it before the world around him shifted. It wasn't the jungle or the fire-lit village that changed—it was the sound.
The voices of the nagas, once an incomprehensible tangle of sharp syllables and rolling consonants, began to shift.
Words unraveled, meaning formed. It was as if his ears had been clogged his entire life, and only now did he truly hear.
A group of elders sat in a semi-circle near the largest fire, their expressions grim, their tails coiled beneath them in tense, nervous patterns. Their voices, now clear to him, carried a weight that sent a chill down his spine.
"We've held the rites. We've reinforced the seals. And still—it moves."
…
"If it fully awakens, this floor will not see another dawn."
…
"Not just this floor. The ones above and below will suffer its wrath."
…
"We do not have time. We no longer have time."
Noah narrowed his eyes. Something was awakening. Something they feared enough to speak of with desperate voices.
He barely had time to process before—
A voice from behind him. Low, amused. Too close.
"Well… look who we've got here."
Noah turned.
Then—the music.
That same, cursed Whispers flooding his ears, curling around his thoughts like hands pulling him under. His vision warped, the firelight stretching, twisting. The sound grew louder, unbearable—
And then.
[You died.]
[Innocent Shall Receive a Second Chance.]
…
[System Window – Ark]
NAME: Noah Orthar
AGE: 20
PERSONAL ATTRIBUTES:
• Innocent (Divine)
• Ancient Dreamer (Divine)
PERSONAL SKILLS:
• Gáe Bulg
• Ancient Tongue
STIGMA:
• Innocent Shall Receive a Second Chance (486 → 485)
OVERALL STATS:
• Stamina: E (39)
• Strength: E (32)
• Dexterity: E (30)
• Vitality: F (10)
…
Noah moved through the jungle once more, retracing his steps with precision.
The midday sun filtered through the dense canopy, casting fractured beams of golden light onto the damp earth. Unlike before, it was still early in the day.
The shadows weren't as deep. The air wasn't as thick with the coming night. Yet, he knew—time meant nothing. He had already walked this path. Died on this path.
This time, he wasted no steps.
Before leaving, he had entrusted Adam and Cedric to Elara's care, their recovery in safe hands. Jonas had received a subtle hint about the trial's true nature, though Noah doubted even he could grasp its depths yet.
The trial wasn't just a siege. The Naga were not the only threat.
Noah only wished that what lurked in the shadows wasn't what he feared it to be.
He exhaled slowly, pushing the thought aside. Focus.
His mind drifted back to his newest skill—Ancient Tongue.
A passive ability that functioned as an auto-translator, seamlessly bridging the gap between languages.
Whatever he spoke, others would understand. Whatever others spoke, he would comprehend. Simple. Efficient.
Yet, the [Ancient Dreamer] attribute gnawed at him. It had no definition. Just like [Innocent].
Noah wasn't sure what that meant. He didn't like not knowing. But brushing off his unease, he continued forward.
And soon—he arrived at the Naga settlement once again.
He had 485 more chances.
This time, he was going to do real scouting.
Emerging from the dense jungle, he raised his hands in the air—a universal sign of surrender, of peace.
The root of all conflict is threefold.
Misunderstanding.
Miscommunication.
Or simply, the darkness festering within the human heart.
And sometimes, it was none of those. Sometimes, it was desperation.
The Naga were desperate. He could see it in their settlement, in the way they moved, in the wary way they clutched their weapons.
They weren't an evil tribe. Not in the way stories often painted monsters as mindless threats.
They lived. They built homes. They had families.
That meant something.
And as for communication? He had the means. The skill. The [Ancient Tongue].
But skills alone didn't mend broken understanding. That part was up to him.
Noah stepped forward from the undergrowth, hands raised, his voice steady.
"I come in peace."
The Naga warriors reacted instantly.
Steel flashed as weapons were drawn, the sharp hiss of metal against scales filling the humid air. They moved with practiced precision, coiling around him in a tight formation, their slit-pupiled eyes glinting with suspicion.
Noah remained still. Unshaken.
No… I'm vibrating.
Then, voices murmured among them. The elders, seated near the great fires at the heart of the settlement, looked up in surprise.
"He speaks our tongue."
A moment of silence followed, thick with contemplation. The elder at the center—a towering figure draped in ceremonial bone ornaments—leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"Since you understand our language, then listen well, human." His voice was a low, grating growl. "Hand over the Core of Eden."
Noah blinked.
"You're leaving either way," the elder continued, his tone sharp, his gaze unreadable. "Just like the ones before you. So leave us alone and give us what we need."
The Core of Eden?
Noah had no idea what they were talking about, but the phrase alone sent a chill down his spine.
"I don't know what that is," he said, carefully.
The elder's expression darkened instantly. His tail slammed against the ground with a dull thud.
"Lies."
The weight of the word was absolute. A verdict, not a doubt. The gathered Naga warriors tightened their grip on their weapons.
"Kill him."
The order was given with terrifying finality.
Noah exhaled. He braced himself for what came next—pain, death, the return—but then—
A voice.
The same one from before.
It did not shout. It did not whisper. It simply spoke.
"Enough!"
A crushing silence fell over the warriors. Their poised weapons trembled before lowering, and then—one by one—they bowed. Not out of fear. Out of deference.
Noah, unsure of what was happening, bowed slightly as well, mirroring them.
Then he saw him.
From within the depths of the settlement, a lone figure emerged. His scales shimmered in deep, iridescent hues, his posture poised, a flute held loosely in one hand while his other arm rested behind his back.
He must be the Naga Chieftain.
He exhaled through his nose as he came to a halt before Noah, his golden eyes unreadable. Then, after a long silence, he turned his gaze toward the elder who had ordered Noah's death.
"Tell me, in what way are we better than them," the chieftain said, voice low, deliberate, "if we greet peace with bloodshed?"
The elder stiffened but said nothing.
The chieftain exhaled, the barest shake of his head visible before he turned his attention back to Noah.
"What is your name, outsider?"
"Noah," he answered.
"Then carry on, Noah."
With a simple, effortless gesture, the chieftain dismissed the gathered warriors and elders alike.
"Return to your duties. Be at ease."
And just like that, the tension unraveled.
Noah followed the chieftain without a word.
They left the settlement, their path winding through tangled roots and thick underbrush. The Naga said nothing for a long time, only the distant sounds of the jungle filling the silence.
Noah had questions—many, many questions—but the weight of the moment kept him from speaking.
Then, finally, he did.
"I don't understand any of this," he admitted, voice quiet but firm. "I don't know what the Core of Eden is. But if I can get enough information, maybe I can help. If possible… sir."
The chieftain did not respond. Not immediately. He simply kept moving forward.
Minutes passed.
Then, after nearly twenty minutes of silent travel, the chieftain finally stopped.
"Beyond the bushes."
Noah stepped forward, pushing past the foliage.
And what he saw made his stomach twist.
A massive, gaping hole stretched before him—a wound in the earth, its edges lined with rotting trees and blackened soil. The air was heavy, wrong, thick with a stench of decay so profound it clawed at his senses.
But more than that—he could see it.
A mist clung to the edges of the pit, its color unnatural, shifting between black, violet, and sickly green. It wasn't just rot. It wasn't just death.
It was entropy. It was corruption.
It was something else.
The chieftain's voice was calm, but beneath it lay a quiet, desperate urgency.
"We need the Core of Eden to seal him for another time."
Noah's breath slowed.
Because in that moment—his memories screamed at him.
And the chieftain's final words confirmed his fear.
"The Cradle of Hunger is awakening."
His golden eyes flickered toward the abyss.
"Vorethiel is upon us."
Noah clenched his fists.
Noah's thoughts spiraled as he stared into the abyss.
Vorethiel.
His pulse hammered in his ears.
He had read about it—one of the Calamities of the Apocalypse fated to bring ruin in the Great Swarm. A calamity that was supposed to take place more than ten years from now when all The Calamities of the Apocalypse would rise and descend upon the Neutral Floor, bringing death and destruction in their wake.
But this was too early. Way too early.
Why the hell is he awakening now?!
Wait… could it be that I lacked the background knowledge before his appearance?
Either way... shoot.
What even is this trial about?!