The dark oak was strange.

  It stood alone in a vast, sun-graced field of green grass and dancing white flowers. Its massive trunk split into two great curving branches that mirrored each other perfectly, intersecting again at the top to form a vast, heart-like silhouette.

  As Alex looked around, a strange lightness settled in his chest. The golden light and dancing flowers made the air feel electric… The sight was strange yet teemed with life.

  “Truly stunning,” Roric said, a soft smile touching his lips. “We will camp here, and tomorrow we continue our journey.” He turned to Alex and Iris. “How does that sound?”

  “Agreed.” Iris nodded, her eyes flickering toward the oak.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Alex said.

  They set up camp at the base of the tree, a small fire of dried branches and smooth rocks for seats, sheltered by the massive shade and the gentle breeze.

  “Perfect, if I say so myself.” Roric grinned, placing his sword on the ground. He unbuttoned the tighter straps of his armor, settling in to relax.

  Iris followed suit. She placed her small satchel near the trunk and lowered her hood, letting her hair dance in the wind. She unclipped her rope-like weapon, setting it down.

  However, something caught Alex’s eye, as the metal touched the grass, a light flickered softly.

  He narrowed his gaze. The intricate script etched into the hook-blades was glowing, pulsing gently like a heartbeat.

  “That’s interesting,” Alex whispered, pointing.

  “What is?” Roric asked, arms resting behind his head as he leaned against the trunk.

  “Uh, Iris… what does that mean?”

  Iris glanced down. She frowned, her expression oblivious. “I don’t know… they’ve never glowed before.”

  She reached out, her fingers brushing the steel.

  The moment she touched it, the light flared brighter. The pulse quickened.

  At the same time, the wind howled. The tree’s branches rattled violently. The grass swayed in a frenzy, and thousands of white petals were ripped from the flowers, swirling into a blinding storm.

  Alex shielded his face. Nearly knocked over by the gust, his instinct took over. He grabbed his sword, driving it into the earth to anchor himself.

  A subtle vibration traveled up the blade, coursing through his arm and grounding him.

  Then, the world stopped. The wind died. The petals froze in mid-air, suspended like stars in a white galaxy.

  Alex’s heart hammered a double rhythm against his ribs. He froze, eyes tracking the impossible shape before him, breath held as if the world might shift again if he moved.

  Grass bent in one direction, locked in place. Petals hanging motionless. It was a surreal painting.

  He took a step, moving out of the shade and into the golden light. He raised his arm, checking the light on his skin. Nothing. No heat. No cold. Just a void of sensation. The sun’s warmth had vanished.

  He tried to call out to the others.

  “…..”

  His throat tightened. He tried again, forcing the sound up, nothing. No voice. No echo. Even his inner voice was gone, swallowed by the silence. A void pressed in, outside and within.

  And then, he saw it.

  In the haze of the suspended white petals, a figure floated in mid-air. Bright white robes swallowed its form, billowing in a wind that Alex couldn't feel. It stared at him, but where a face should have been, there was only blinding light.

  To Alex, it looked like a wingless angel.

  At that moment Alex’s sword vibrated in his hand, violent, urgent. His right arm moved on its own, raising the blade, the sharp tip pointing at the wingless angel.

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  The figure spoke. The voice didn't come from the air, it resonated deep inside his skull.

  “ALEX!”

  The world shattered.

  “Alex!”

  Roric’s voice was hoarse, screaming his name.

  Alex gasped, jolting upright.

  He wasn't standing in the field anymore. He was lying by the tree trunk. A warm golden fire danced a few steps away, casting eerie shadows against the oak’s branches.

  “Wait…”

  Alex scrambled to comprehend the shift. Was the frozen world a dream? A dream within a dream?

  ‘Can’t be…’

  He scrambled to his feet before logic could form an answer. The world was pitch black, the fire’s light too weak to push back the encroaching shadows.

  He looked to his right, darkness lingered. To his left, shadows pulled in.

  It was him, the fire, the oak, and the blackness that threatened to swallow him.

  “Iris… Roric?” Alex called out.

  “Alex, pick up your sword!” Iris’s voice came from his right.

  “Quickly, lad!” Roric shouted from the left.

  His heart raced, sweat dripping down his brow. He looked down. His sword was lodged in the ground, exactly where he had driven it in the vision.

  “Alex pick it up!” Iris’s voice was raw.

  He quickly yanked the blade free, the ground shook. The campfire’s light shrank, pressed back by a hungry, moving darkness at the edge of the clearing.

  “They’re in the grass,” Alex growled, breath shallow as he forced himself to listen.

  ‘Listen…’ he told himself.

  Beneath the sigh of the wind came a dry, skittering rustle, like claws dragging through dead leaves. It moved in a wide circle.

  CLAP.

  A whip-like crack. Then another. Two… three… five. Chiming one after the other like a mocking applause.

  Alex’s expression darkened. He gripped his sword until his knuckles turned white.

  “Gloom… Soul Eaters,” he whispered.

  Silence fell directly in front of him.

  The hair on his arms stood on end. His sword hummed in his grip, a low vibration he felt in his teeth. He’d felt it before, in the frozen moment.

  ‘It’s just a dream, Alex…’

  The cold wind blew past him, sending an eerie chill down his spine.

  ‘It’s just a nightmare… yes, nothing but a bad dream…’

  But deep down, he knew. An unexplained feeling that itched at the back of his mind. He was Tier 1: Awakened.

  At this level, Alex had gained an understanding he couldn't quite articulate, but he could feel. The danger was real.

  He couldn't see Roric or Iris, but their voices were real. They were just beyond his veil of sight.

  ‘Wait… I’m wrong. It’s not just a dream.’

  He focused his mind, the panic receding slightly into cold clarity. He was here, not asleep, he was awakened.

  ‘Awareness is the foundation upon which all power is built.’

  Just as the thought settled, Morpheus's voice echoed in his mind.

  [Lucidity: +5%]

  [Dreamer Resonance: +10]

  Alex’s dark expression lightened, a wry confident smile graced his lips. He didn't need to see them. He knew where they were.

  “Straight ahead! Five steps!” Alex yelled.

  “Understood!” Iris shouted back.

  Her form appeared from thin air to his left. She moved like a liquid shadow. Her rope-blade snapped through the air like a striking serpent, the hooked ends gleaming in the firelight.

  A Whistle. A Thud.

  The blade connected with a crunching impact. A guttural, choking shriek tore through the night. A patch of darkness thrashed, outlined for a second before disappearing again.

  “Good call!” Roric screamed from the edge of the clearing.

  He held his long, slightly curved, single-edged sword in one hand, his black leather armor blending perfectly with the night.

  Roric didn’t charge forward. Instead, he ran toward the campfire. He grabbed a burning log with his bare hand and tossed it high into the air, aiming for the source of the skittering sound.

  The log spun, the flames feeding on the wind, burning brighter and hotter.

  It hit the ground with a shower of sparks, embers scattered across the dry grass, igniting instantly. The fire spread, devouring the field and pushing back the shadows.

  The light revealed what surrounded them.

  “No way….” Alex whispered. His limbs went numb, the sword suddenly heavier in his hand. His mind went blank.

  "There are two tragedies in life. One is not getting what one wants. The other is getting it." — Oscar Wilde

  Harwin, an ordinary corporate employee, finally reaches a point where he can support his family — yet a small wish constantly troubles his heart. Everything changes when he is suddenly teleported to another world by self-proclaimed divinity.

  Powerless and alone, Harwin now must navigate a land filled with ancient magic, conflicts, and deadly secrets whilst searching for a way back home. He trains to master not only the blade but also the mysterious essence that breaks all laws of physics.

  What to Expect:

  ? A weak protagonist who progresses slowly through sheer hard work

  ? A grand, mysterious fantasy world

  ? Multiple races and rich-lore

  ? Wars, Politics, and History

  ? No harem