Episode : 1

The Forgotten Warden

The Gate pulsed like a wound in the world.

Kael Ardyn tightened his grip on the rusted sword, its chipped edge catching what little light came from the violet rift before him. The other Wardens stood in formation, laughing, boasting, their polished armor gleaming with enchantments. Next to them, Kael looked like a beggar who had stumbled into a battlefield.

“Don’t slow us down, Ardyn,” one sneered, tightening the strap on his gauntlet.

“He’s just here to split the rewards,” another muttered. “Useless trash.”

Kael didn’t respond. He had heard it all before. Words sharper than any blade, reminders that he was the weakest, the bottom of the bottom: an F-rank Warden. The Forgotten.

His heart beat faster—not from anger, but from the thought of his sister. Lyra. She was lying in a hospital bed somewhere in the city, cursed by a Gate-born plague no healer could cure. Each day her strength faded. Each day, the bills grew heavier.

This was why he fought. Not for glory, not for power. Just to keep her alive a little longer.

“Move out!” the raid leader barked. A tall man in crimson robes raised his staff, fire already swirling lazily at its tip. A B-rank mage. Smug, confident, untouchable.

The Gate rippled, and one by one, the party stepped inside.

Kael was last. Always last.

---

The dungeon air was heavy, damp, as though the cavern itself was breathing. Strange symbols glowed faintly on the stone walls, casting eerie reflections that danced across the hunters’ faces.

The first wave came fast—fang-mawed goblins with jagged claws, their shrieks echoing off the cavern. The stronger Wardens surged forward, blades flashing, spells roaring.

Kael hung back, sword trembling in his hands. He lunged clumsily at a goblin, barely grazing its arm before another Warden’s spear skewered it clean through.

“Pathetic,” someone hissed, pushing past him.

Kael exhaled shakily. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t surprised. This was his place—the one always saved, never saving.

For an hour they fought, the dungeon slowly thinning of monsters. The raid members relaxed, laughter echoing through the cavern. Someone even lit a cigar.

That’s when they saw it.

At the far end of the chamber loomed a set of stone doors, massive and ancient. Chains of black light wrapped across them, pulsing faintly with energy. The walls around it were covered in runes older than any Warden could recognize.

A hush fell over the group.

“That’s… not part of an F-rank Gate,” one whispered.

The raid leader’s eyes gleamed with greed. “Hidden chamber,” he said. “We break it open. Could be treasure, relics. More than any of you have ever dreamed of.”

Several Wardens hesitated. The chains radiated danger. The air itself seemed to resist their approach.

Kael felt it strongest of all. A weight pressing against his chest, whispering to him in a voice without words. Do not open this door.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no one was listening. The fire mage raised his staff, flames burning away the chains.

The doors groaned. Then slowly, they opened.

---

The chamber beyond was vast, hollow, its ceiling lost in shadow. At its center, upon a throne of black stone, sat a colossal figure. Armored in darkness, eyes burning like dying stars, it watched them in silence.

Every Warden froze.

Then it spoke.

A voice older than the world itself, rumbling through their bones.

> “Mortals… after so long, you dare disturb me?”

The room convulsed with pressure. Several Wardens collapsed instantly, blood streaming from their eyes and ears. The others screamed, scrambling back.

Kael staggered, vision blurring—but he did not fall. His knees buckled, but something inside him held. Something the being noticed.

Its gaze fixed on him.

> “At last,” the figure said. “A vessel worthy of my chains.”

Darkness exploded from the throne, tendrils of shadow wrapping around Kael’s body. He screamed as they burrowed into his flesh, searing his veins with fire and frost. Runes carved themselves along his skin, glowing crimson before fading into black.

The others tried to run, but the shadows devoured them—burning them to ash in an instant. Their cries ended in silence.

Kael fell to his knees, gasping, his heart hammering wildly. The throne was empty now. The Monarch was gone. But in his mind, a voice lingered.

> You are mine now, Shadowbound.

Before him, words burned into the air.

[System Initiated]

Welcome, Kael Ardyn.

Level: 1

Kael’s hands trembled. His rusted sword clattered to the floor. For the first time in his life… he felt power coursing through him.

And it terrified him.

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