I took a deep breath.
Then another.
Then, because I still couldn’t quite believe I was still alive, I reached down and pinched my arm.
“OW.” Yep. Not a dream.
No rusted greatsword splitting me in half. No crumbling dungeon swallowing me whole. Just me, standing in what looked like the fanciest tavern I’d never be allowed inside.
The table in front of me was overflowing with food. Golden-roasted meats, fresh fruit glistening under the chandelier light, loaves of actual, fluffy, artisanal bread. The kind that didn’t chip a tooth when you bit into it.
For a second, I just stood there, trying to remember the last time I’d seen this much food in one place.
And then my eyes landed on them.
The chests.
Three of them, lined up like they were waiting for me to open like the only real birthday gifts I’d had in years.
The first chest? Grand. Regal. The kind of chest that screamed “I hold something important and expensive” like it was a noble at a dinner party trying to make sure everyone knew it was powerful. Dark mahogany wood, gold inlays, thick polished hinges. It was practically radiating wealth.
The second chest? Basic. The kind of thing you’d find at the foot of any tavern bed. Sturdy, unremarkable, decently maintained. No bells. No whistles. No aggressive flexing about how expensive it was.
And then.
The third chest.
This thing had been through some things.
Splintered wood, rusted metal bands, a lid that wasn’t even fully closed. It looked like someone had tried to throw it away, missed, and just decided to leave it here out of pity.
I crossed my arms, staring at it.
“Not gonna lie,” I muttered, “not feeling great about this one.”
I gave it a light kick and the whole thing rattled ominously.
Yep. Definitely not cursed at all.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Alright. Three chests. Three rewards. And one of them looks like it’s holding a single silver coin and possibly a family of mice.”
I glanced back at the feast on the table.
Then at the chests.
Then back at the feast.
…I mean, I could eat first.
I shook my head. Focus. I’d survived this long, might as well see what I’d actually earned.
Now I just had to decide where to start.
 
Alright, fancy chest. Let’s see if you live up to the hype.
I lifted the lid, half-expecting some dramatic glow or heavenly choir to start playing. Instead, the hinges let out a quiet, satisfying click, revealing a collection of gear neatly arranged inside.
I raised an eyebrow.
Not bad.
I reached in, pulling out the contents.
 
Cloak of Midnight – B Rank
“Increases your ability to blend into your surroundings. When used at night, allows the wearer to become practically invisible.”
 
I held the dark, impossibly smooth fabric between my fingers. It was light but sturdy, almost like it wasn’t really there when I moved it.
I let out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s cool. Shadowborn gear confirmed.”
Not that I was complaining. If I had to play assassin, I’d take practically invisible over painfully visible any day.
I slung it over my shoulders, fastening it in place before reaching back into the chest.
 
Boots of the Whispering Wind – B Rank
“Reduces the sound the wearer makes when moving, increasing their ability to remain undetected.”
 
I turned them over in my hands. They looked normal—just a sleek pair of dark boots. But the moment I touched the soles, I noticed something weird.
They weren’t hard, like normal leather.
They were soft. Silent.
I set them on the ground, stepping into them. My old boots were clunky, uncomfortable. These? These fit perfectly.
I took an experimental step.
Nothing.
No creak, no tap, no sound at all.
My grin widened. “Oh, these are fun.”
 
Belt of the Hearth – A Rank
“Holds two daggers made from reinforced, folded steel. Deal more damage than regular daggers. Additionally, when the daggers come to a stop after being thrown, they will teleport back into the sheaths attached to the belt.”
 
I stopped.
Read that last part again.
Then again.
Slowly, carefully, I pulled the belt from the chest and examined the twin daggers holstered on either side. The steel was dark, almost smoky, their edges sharp enough to make me nervous.
I flicked one out of its sheath, spinning it between my fingers.
“Alright, you had me at ‘more damage,’ but—teleporting back into the sheath after being thrown?”
I grinned, actually excited now. “Finally, something I could reliably use from range.”
I strapped the belt around my waist, already liking this chest a lot more.
 
Lock-picking Tools – B Rank
“These lock-picking tools are reinforced and more durable than regular tools. Additionally, they increase your success chance when picking locks and disarming traps.”
 
I held up the sleek black leather case, flipping it open to reveal a full set of tools, each one polished and pristine.
I arched an eyebrow. “So, what I’m hearing is… the system is encouraging me to break into things now.”
I slipped them into my pack, making a mental note to not immediately get arrested after leaving the dungeon.
 
Deft Gloves – B Rank
“These gloves increase your Agility score by 15, improving your ability to successfully complete tasks that rely on Agility.”
 
I pulled them out, examining the fingerless design and snug material. They were light, flexible, like they were made to be forgotten once worn.
An immediate boost to my agility?
“Okay, yeah, definitely taking these.”
I slid them on and flexed my fingers. They fit like a second skin.
I took a deep breath, looking myself up and down.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
A full set of high-quality Shadowborn gear.
I wasn’t just some random kid trying to survive anymore.
I was built for this now.
And I was starting to like it.
I smirked, adjusting the belt.
“Alright, fancy chest,” I muttered. “You did good.”
Now, time to see what the other two had in store.
 
I stepped up to the second chest—the regular-looking one. No gold inlays, no dramatic flourishes, just sturdy, practical wood.
If the first chest had been the rich noble showing off his inheritance, this one was the hardworking blacksmith who actually got things done.
I lifted the lid.
Inside, neatly folded, was a dark leather bag with silver embroidery lining the seams. I frowned, reaching down and pulling it out.
A system notification blinked to life.
 
Bag of the Endless Void
“This bag can hold up to 1000 cubic feet of goods. Additionally, food stored inside the bag does not spoil.”
 
I blinked.
Then I blinked again.
“Wait. What?”
I turned the bag over in my hands, flipping open the flap. It looked normal. It felt normal. But apparently, it had a whole damn storage room inside it.
A smile spread across my face.
“This is ridiculous.”
I reached for a random apple from the feast table and dropped it inside. The instant it fell beyond the threshold, it vanished.
Gone.
Like it had been swallowed by the bag itself.
I hesitated, then reached my hand in—and immediately felt the apple sitting at the top.
I pulled it out, completely unchanged.
No bruises. No anything. Like I had never put it away at all.
My stomach flipped, but in the best way possible.
Because food didn’t spoil in here.
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the bag’s strap.
Growing up, food was… basic. We ate what we had, when we had it. Leftovers weren’t a thing. You ate your share, or it was gone by morning. If you didn’t finish something? Someone else would.
And bad food? Spoiled food? You picked around the mold, cut off the bad parts. You ate what you could and tried not to think about it.
But now?
I wouldn’t have to worry about that.
Ever again.
I took a deep breath, running my fingers over the leather.
“This,” I muttered, voice quiet, “is the best damn thing I’ve ever owned.”
Better than the daggers. Better than the cloak.
This wasn’t about fighting.
This was about living.
I actually felt like I had a future worth looking forward to.
I slung the bag over my shoulder, securing it in place.
One chest left.
I wasn’t expecting much, but at this point? This dungeon had already surprised me.
Might as well see if it could do it one more time.
 
The thing looked like it had been dragged out of a swamp, run over by a wagon, and then left outside in the rain for a decade before someone remembered it existed.
I sighed, bracing myself for a total disappointment, and lifted the lid.
Inside, resting in the center like it actually belonged there, was a crystal orb.
I frowned.
Not gold. Not a weapon. Not even some weird Shadowborn trinket. Just a smooth, glass-like sphere, faintly glowing from within.
The second my fingers brushed against it, a system notification popped up.
 
????? - Level 1
 
I squinted.
“…What?”
I picked up the crystal ball, turning it over in my hands. It was cool to the touch, almost humming against my skin, but nothing else happened. No rush of power, no dramatic revelation. Just that notification, sitting there in my vision, refusing to explain itself.
Okay. Two problems.
One: This item didn’t have a name. Every item had a name. Even the cheap daggers sold at market stalls had names.
Two: Level 1?
Items didn’t have levels. Chosen had levels. Items had ranks. That was basic knowledge, the kind of thing everyone knew. It was in every book I had ever read.
But here we are.
I looked down at the crystal again, tightening my grip around it.
It wasn’t just unknown.
It was wrong. It looked more like something an Adept would use to help them cast spells or something.
I wasn’t excited, anymore.
I was confused.
And maybe, just maybe, a little uneasy.
 
I stared at the crystal orb for another long moment, turning it over in my hands like it would suddenly decide to explain itself.
It didn’t.
Of course it didn’t.
With a sigh, I shoved it into my new void bag, making a mental note to figure out what the hell I was dealing with later. Right now? I had more important things to do.
Like eating.
I turned back to the table, really looking at it this time. I wasn’t just seeing food anymore—I was seeing opportunity.
Because for the first time in years, I could actually eat until I was full.
And I was going to take full advantage.
I dropped into one of the plush chairs and went to work.
Bread that wasn’t stale or rock-hard? Mine.
A roasted leg of something that smelled entirely too good to question? Absolutely mine.
Cheese that wasn’t just a sad sliver of waxy regret? Mine, mine, mine.
I tore into everything, eating like a man who had been surviving on scraps for years. Because, well… I had been.
I had never in my life been able to just eat until I was done. Until my stomach wasn’t tight with hunger, until I wasn’t constantly thinking about how much was left, about whether I needed to save some for later.
But now?
Now I had a bag that could store food forever.
Which meant my family could eat like this too.
I slowed just enough to start loading up the void bag, grabbing anything and everything. Meats, fruit, bread—hell, even some of the fancy cheeses.
Mom was going to have a heart attack.
Aria and Leon? They were going to lose their minds.
I grinned to myself, stuffing another handful of food inside the bag. I didn’t care if I looked ridiculous hoarding everything like a starving goblin.
For at least a few days, my family was going to eat like royalty.
And me?
I was going to remember what it felt like to be full.
I leaned back in the chair, letting my tension melt away, feeling warm, heavy, satisfied in a way I barely recognized.
Then, finally, I stood, slinging the void bag over my shoulder, and took one last look at what was left of the ridiculous feast spread across the table.
With a deep breath, I turned to the only door in the room.
I didn’t know what was waiting on the other side.
But I had survived this trial.
And now it was time to face whatever came next.

The moment I stepped through the door, I received another notification.
[Congratulations on completing the Proving Grounds. You have earned 3000 XP.]
 
The plush, warm tavern-like space was gone.
Instead, I was back in the woods.
The same quiet, dense forest where I’d entered the dungeon. Same trees. Same cool morning air. Same faint scent of damp earth and leaves.
Like nothing had happened.
The portal was gone. No swirling silver light, no sign that a world-altering, life-threatening dungeon had just existed in this very spot.
Had time even passed while I was in there?
Who knew?
I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair. I had done it. I had survived my Judgment. I had beaten the Empty King. And now…
A notification blinked in the corner of my vision.
I blinked back, then focused on it.
The window expanded.
 
Congratulations, Felix Ravensburg.
You have been assigned the class – Shadowborn.
 
I snorted. “Yeah. No duh.”
Like that was a surprise. The daggers, the cloak, the fact that I had spent my entire trial sneaking, dodging, and stabbing things that were much bigger than me — yeah, the system really went out on a limb with this one.
I swiped the notification away—but before it vanished, something else caught my eye.
A new menu.
[Status]
I frowned. Had that always been there?
I focused on it, and immediately, another window flashed to life.
 
[Name: Felix Ravensburg]
Class: Shadowborn
Level: 6
Health Points: 160
Armor: 18% Physical damage reduction. 10% Magic damage reduction.
 
Primary Attributes:

Agility: 38
Intelligence: 18
Strength: 14
Endurance: 15
Perception: 25

Resources:

Guile: 100%

Abilities:

[No abilities unlocked]

Equipment Bonuses:

Deft Gloves (+15 Agility)
Cloak of Midnight (Enhanced Stealth, Night Invisibility)
Boots of the Whispering Wind (Silent Movement)
Belt of the Hearth (Enhanced Daggers, Auto-Return Throwing Daggers)
Lock-picking Tools (+Lock-picking Skill Bonus)

I blinked.
Level 6?
I opened and closed my hands, staring at my stats. I had gone in at level 1. I had come out five levels stronger.
I let out a low whistle. “Damn. I actually did better than I thought.”
I’d figured I would scrape by with one level, maybe two, if I was lucky. But five? Either that dungeon was worth a ridiculous amount of experience, or the system really liked how I handled myself.
I was faster. Stronger. Sharper.
I felt it too. My body wasn’t just exhausted—it was wired, coiled with energy that hadn’t been there before. Like I had been running my whole life with weights on my limbs and only just now realized they were gone.
I wasn’t just Felix Ravensburg anymore.
I was a Shadowborn.
And the system had just made it official.
 
I let my eyes drift back to the status window, still taking in the reality of my new stats, my new class—my new life.
Then, something at the bottom caught my attention.
Unspent Talent Points: 5
I frowned.
Talent points?
That hadn’t been there before. And I sure as hell hadn’t earned any “talent” in the last few hours. I’d mostly just dodged death and hoped for the best.
I focused on the text, and just like before, the system reacted. Another new menu appeared.
 
[Talents]
 
I immediately regretted opening it.
The screen exploded with information, a massive branching web of skills, traits, and abilities spreading before me, organized into intricate paths and sub-paths.
My eyes widened.
There were Shadowborn-specific talents, filled with stealth techniques, assassination tricks, illusionary skills. Things like:

Shadow Step: Instantly teleport a short distance in any direction, leaving behind a shadowy afterimage.
Veil of the Forgotten: Enemies are less likely to notice you, even in plain sight.

Then there were more general abilities, things that any Chosen could benefit from:

Heightened Reflexes: Increase reaction speed by 10%.
Combat Awareness: Gain a passive bonus to detecting incoming attacks.

Each talent cost a single talent point.
But a lot of them were locked.
Some required a certain level. Others were tied to my stats. And some were chained behind earlier talents, meaning I’d have to pick one ability before unlocking the next in its path.
 
There was a lot to take in. Too much.
I had no idea what the best choices were, and the last thing I wanted was to waste my points on something useless.
I’d have to sit down, take my time, actually figure out how I wanted to play this.
But right now?
Right now, I had bigger priorities.
I closed the menu and looked around the empty clearing, the reality of my return finally sinking in.
I had survived. I had made it through the Proving Grounds. And that meant one more thing.
I needed to get home.
Mom was waiting.
She’d probably spent the last however-many hours sick with worry, thinking about what had happened to my dad, wondering if she’d lose me the same way.
I adjusted my bag, tightened the straps, and turned toward the path leading back to town.
I could figure out my talents, my future, my next steps later.
Right now, I needed to put my mother’s mind at ease.
And maybe, just maybe, get some sleep.
 
I’d only made it a dozen steps when I felt it.
That hum.
Faint. Subtle. Like static brushing across my skin.
I froze, reaching into my void bag until my fingers closed around cool, smooth glass. The orb.
It was glowing again.
But this time… it was different.
Before, the light had been soft. Passive. Background ambiance. Now? It pulsed. Slow and steady, like a heartbeat.
My heartbeat.
I held it up, narrowing my eyes as a new notification blinked to life.
 
[Link Established]
 
No explanation. No context.
Just those two words.
I waited, half-expecting something to happen—more text, a flash of insight, maybe another glitch in the system.
Nothing.
The glow faded as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only the smooth surface of the orb and my reflection staring back at me.
I swallowed hard and slipped it back into the bag.
Nope. Not weird at all.
Totally normal magic orb doing totally normal orb things.
I shook my head, turned back toward the trail, and tried not to think too hard about the fact that an unnamed, level-sporting artifact had just decided to ping the system on its own.
Because if this thing was waking up?
Then my problems were only just getting started.