Tharion stepped out of the cave. The wind hit his face, carrying strange, sharp scents — wet earth, unfamiliar vegetation, and something… alive. The landscape stretched endlessly before him: jagged mountains, dark hills, and towering trees with translucent leaves that seemed to breathe.
Suddenly, a faint blue light appeared in front of him. Symbols floated in the air, hovering as if the world itself held its breath.
SYSTEM ONLINE
A simple window appeared:
Name: Tharion
Lineage: None
Status: Low-Rank Monster
That was it. No level, no stats, no class. Just the word, glowing red: LOW-RANK MONSTER.
Tharion tightened his grip on his saber. He had faced armies, beasts, even death itself — but being labeled like this was new.
He scanned the world around him: shadows shifted between rocks, trees swayed unnaturally, as if testing him. The system didn't need to explain his strength. The label said it all: he was a monster, feared and dismissed.
In the distance, a faint glow appeared on the horizon. A human? A Lord? Another system user? Tharion didn't know. But one thing was clear: in this world, he was alone. Alone… and already judged.
He inhaled deeply and tightened his grip on his saber. The system could call him a low-rank monster, but he would define what that meant.
"Call me what you will. I am Tharion. And monsters survive."