Nathaniel surfed effortlessly over the golden dunes of the desert, his piercing gaze scanning the horizon for the final catacomb. The searing sun beat down upon the sands, but its harsh heat was nothing to him now. Regret? Not a trace of it lingered in his soul. His life had taken a glorious turn since he beca undead—a transformation that had granted him power beyond anything he had dread of back on Earth.
Back then, weakness had been his shackle, and his days were a litany of suffering. Bullied rcilessly in school for his frailty, he could still see the sneering faces of his torntors, hear their mocking laughter as they stole his belongings and threw punches that left him bruised and broken. His ho offered no sanctuary; his parents—both alcoholics—frequently lashed out at him, their fists landing as substitutes for their frustration with life. They didn’t need reasons to hurt him. By the ti Nathaniel was seventeen, he had already lost three teeth, permanently etched reminders of his misery.
Things had seed to improve when he moved far from his parents and found a steady job. He even had a girlfriend for a ti. But she wasn’t the salvation he’d hoped for. She manipulated him, testing the limits of his devotion and leaving him hollow and betrayed when her gas were finally revealed. Four years of lies unraveled in an instant, and Nathaniel, 29 and utterly desolate, stood on the precipice of ending it all.
Then the System arrived.
It was his unexpected salvation, a cosmic twist of fate. Transported to a new world where strength was the ultimate currency, Nathaniel no longer had to bow to anyone. For the first ti, he wasn’t prey. He threw himself into the art of magic, mastering the craft and eventually evolving into a sandmage. And when the system shop first appeared, he encountered Ankhu-Ra, the ancient mummy whose promises of power and a ho where he would never again be looked down upon ignited a fire in Nathaniel’s heart.
Becoming undead wasn’t just a choice—it was liberation. The day he erged from the system shop with his newfound power was the day he took revenge, slaughtering his forr party mbers and using their lifeblood to craft the first bandage that adorned his arm. That act marked the beginning of his reign. From then on, no one could defeat him. Nathaniel carved a bloody path through elves and vampires alike, ascending the ranks with a speed that left his enemies reeling.
Ankhu-Ra’s celestial blessing and sage advice molded Nathaniel into a force to be reckoned with, a terror even the proudest vampires dared not provoke. Though allies by necessity, Nathaniel often found himself imagining the mont he could prove his superiority to them all. One day, he told himself, his chance would co.
Surfing over the dunes, Nathaniel’s keen eyes spotted it—the final catacomb. Its ancient gates lood ahead, shrouded in an aura of mystery and nace. Unlike the others, this one radiated a sense of power older than ti itself. But like the rest, its doors remained sealed against him, taunting him with the secrets they held within. He made a final mark on the shared map and turned, the desert winds swirling around him as he began his journey back.
Nathaniel’s thoughts shifted to bloodlust. He craved the thrill of the hunt, the intoxicating rush of power that ca with killing. His travels had strengthened his body through tempering, but it wasn’t enough. It never was. Days ago, he had reached Level 80, but he sought more. Evolution demanded relentless effort, and he was determined to claim an even greater class.
Currently, his mythic class set him apart, though it wasn’t entirely uncommon among those who had excelled in the tutorial. The mory of Ankhu-Ra’s guidance lingered; without the ancient mummy’s insights, Nathaniel might not have succeeded. Accumulating natural treasures, earning a wealth of credits, and delaying evolution—these had been the keys to unlocking his mythic potential. Few within the council had achieved the sa, and Nathaniel reveled in his elite status. Yet, he hungered for more.
Celestial-class? Likely unattainable. But ethereal? That was within reach, and he burned with ambition to claim it. His current class already granted him devastating power, so much so that it felt almost unfair. But an ethereal class would elevate him beyond even that, and Nathaniel could scarcely imagine how it would feel to wield such strength.
As he approached the savanna, his eyes caught sight of one of his sand elentals. The creatures had grown imnsely in power, nearly reaching E-grade, and Nathaniel’s smile was one of satisfaction. These beings were nightmares to fight in the desert, their ability to heal from the very sands around them making them nearly invincible. Nathaniel relished the thought of pitting them against the living, watching as they ripped his enemies apart with brutal efficiency.
The wind whipped around him as he sped across the sands, his thoughts brimming with ambition and anticipation. This was his world now, and he would stop at nothing to make it bow before him.
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