He stood in the center of the dark sand. The purple sky above was silent, but the air felt heavy with expectation. He gripped the hilt of the rusty longsword. It felt rough in his palm, the leather wrap dry and scratchy. He took a deep breath and tried to remember the basics of the stance he had seen in videos of higher-ranked hunters.
He swung the blade. It was heavy. Each movement felt like he was pulling the sword through water. He did a hundred vertical slashes, then a hundred horizontal ones. His shoulders began to burn. The physical effort was real, even in this dream state.
'If I can't move this thing properly, I'm just swinging a heavy stick,' he thought.
He decided to try something. He focused on the warm energy in his chest, the mana he had worked so hard to grow. He tried to push a small thread of it down his arm and into the blade.
The moment the energy touched the iron, the sword let out a high-pitched, metallic whine. The rust on the surface didn't just flake off, it seemed to vibrate and turn into dust. But the sword itself started to glow a sickly, dull orange.
Crack.
A hairline fracture appeared near the guard. The metal couldn't handle the pressure. It was just ordinary scrap metal, meant for decoration or a museum, not for housing the refined mana of the Star-Forged Marrow.
At that moment, several shapes detached themselves from the shadows at the edge of the Archive. These were the Dream Horrors: small, skittering creatures made of ink and teeth. They usually ignored him if he stayed in the light, but the sound of the cracking sword seemed to excite them.
One of them lunged. Min-ho swung the rusty blade. The edge hit the creature's shoulder, but instead of cutting through, the blade got stuck in the thick, shadowy mass. The creature hissed, and the weight of it nearly pulled the sword out of Min-ho's hands.
'This thing is useless,' he realized. 'It's more of a liability than a weapon.'
He kicked the creature away and retreated toward the center of the Archive. He looked at the broken, rusted sword with a sigh. He had spent his savings on this piece of junk. He wasn't even mad, he just felt a bit stupid for thinking a bargain-bin find would work for a real hunter.
"There has to be something better here," Min-ho said out loud. "I'm in a library of lost arts. There's no way they don't have gear."
As if responding to his voice, a blue screen flickered into existence in front of him. It wasn't the usual status window. This one looked like a shop interface, filled with silhouettes of weapons and armor. He scrolled through the list with his finger, his eyes widening at the prices.
Most of the items cost thousands of credits. He saw a sword made of starlight for fifty thousand credits and a set of dragon-scale armor for a hundred thousand. He only had a few hundred credits left from his previous sessions.
He scrolled to the bottom of the list, looking at the basic tier. He found a section labeled "Aspirant's Armory."
"There we go," he muttered happily.
He saw a weapon called the [Refined Steel Vanguard]. It was a straight blade, much like the one he had bought in the real world, but the description said it was forged from mana-receptive alloy. It cost 400 credits.
"Perfect," he said. He tapped the icon.
The credits vanished from his total, and the rusty sword in his hand dissolved into ash. In its place, a new weight appeared. The Vanguard was sleek and silver, with a grip made of a dark, rubbery material that felt like it was molded to his hand.
He swung it once. The blade cut through the air with a faint whistle. It felt light, but solid. He tried pushing his mana into it again. This time, the steel didn't groan or crack. It hummed. The blade shimmered with a faint, steady white light.
"Now this is what I'm talking about!" he shouted. He couldn't help but laugh. It felt great to finally have something that worked.
He spent the rest of his time in the Slumber Realm training. With 110 hours to spare, he didn't rush. He went back to the basics, learning how much mana he could push into the blade without wasting energy.
He also spent hours sitting in a cross-legged position, focusing on his cultivation. He could feel the Star-Forged Marrow working deep inside him. It was a slow, steady heat that felt like it was polishing his bones.
Min-ho's eyes snapped open.
The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was a thick, cloying scent of old rot and metallic sourness. He gagged, sitting up quickly.
"What the...?"
He looked down at his arms. He was covered in black, oily spores that had seeped out of his pores while he slept. His bedsheets were ruined, stained with the same dark gunk. It looked like his body had decided to purge every bit of garbage it had been holding onto for eighteen years.
He scrambled out of bed, nearly slipping on the floor. He rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and froze.
He didn't look like the same person. The black gunk couldn't hide the change. His face was sharp, the soft edges of his jaw replaced by a clean, defined line. He looked lean, his shoulders broader than they were yesterday.
But the biggest change was his hair. It was a pure, snowy white. It caught the dim light of the bathroom and seemed to glow slightly
He touched his hair, his eyes wide. "Wait. I actually look... good?"
He poked his cheek and felt the firmness of his skin. He looked healthy and remarkably handsome. A genuine, slightly cocky grin spread across his face.
"I'm definitely going to be breaking some hearts with this look," he joked to himself.
He stripped off his ruined clothes and hopped into the shower. He spent a long time scrubbing the black spores away. The water turned dark as the impurities washed down the drain. As the steam filled the room, he felt a sense of clarity he had never known.
He grabbed his bag and slipped out of the house before anyone could catch him. He needed time to think.
He walked down the street, enjoying the cool morning air. He felt incredibly light. He started thinking about the Slumber Realm. He had already confirmed it wasn't the past. The technology and the monsters didn't match historical records.
It wasn't the future either. The magic and the scriptures felt too ancient, like they belonged to a world that had forgotten how to breathe.
'Maybe it's a different world entirely,' he thought. 'Or a place where all the power from the beginning of time ended up.'
He brushed the thought off for now. It didn't matter what it was as long as it kept making him stronger. He felt a surge of confidence. He was Level 10, he had a real sword in his bag, and he felt like he could handle anything.
He was just turning the corner toward the subway station when the air suddenly felt cold. The hair on his arms stood up.
A loud, jagged sound tore through the silence of the street. It sounded like glass shattering, but much louder. In the middle of the sidewalk, about twenty feet away, a purple rift began to open.
Space seemed to fold in on itself, turning into a jagged hole of swirling energy.
"A Gate," Min-ho whispered.
He looked around. There were people everywhere. Commuters were stopping in their tracks, their faces turning pale. Some started to run, while others just stood there, paralyzed by fear.
Min-ho didn't run. He reached back and gripped the handle of the Vanguard sword through the fabric of his gym bag. His heart was beating fast, but he wasn't afraid. He felt a strange, electric thrill.
The rift widened, and a low, guttural growl echoed from the darkness within.