Mays stood motionless in the middle of the unfamiliar forest.
For over an hour, he hadn't taken more than a few steps.
He simply stood there, staring into the endless sea of towering trees as though his mind had refused to accept what his eyes insisted was real.
"...Am I dreaming?"
His voice sounded strangely foreign in the silent woods.
To test himself, he pinched his cheek with enough force to leave a mark.
"Ow..."
The sharp sting made him wince.
It hurt.
Far more than a dream ever should.
The pain lingered.
The cool breeze brushing against his face felt real.
The earthy scent of damp soil reached his nose.
Somewhere overhead, birds chirped while leaves rustled softly beneath the morning wind.
Everything around him possessed an impossible level of detail.
Too detailed.
Too vivid.
Too real.
"...This isn't a dream."
He slowly lowered his hand before looking down at himself once more.
His breathing nearly stopped.
Crimson metal reflected the rays of sunlight filtering through the forest canopy.
The armor covering his body was magnificent.
Every engraved line.
Every crimson plate.
Every golden trim.
Every leather strap.
It was exactly as he remembered.
His full Crimson Death Armor Set.
The dark red Flame Emperor Cape hanging from his shoulders fluttered gently behind him, dancing with every passing breeze.
This...
This had once been his signature appearance.
Back in HeavensTale, countless players knew this armor.
Many feared it.
Whenever this crimson silhouette appeared on a battlefield, guilds would immediately sound the alarm.
Because only one person wore it.
The Red Wargod.
A title earned after years of conquering raids, defeating world bosses, and standing at the very peak of the game.
A bringer of chaos.
A nightmare to his enemies.
Mays stared silently at his gauntleted hands.
"...No way."
He clenched and unclenched his fingers.
The armor responded naturally.
There was no stiffness.
No weight slowing him down.
It felt less like equipment...
...and more like a second skin.
His eyes wandered across the surrounding landscape once again before settling on a smooth oval-shaped stone nearby.
It stood just high enough to serve as a natural chair.
Without thinking, he walked over and sat down heavily.
The stone was cold.
Solid.
Real.
He bent over, scooped up a handful of dirt, and let it slip between his fingers.
Then he grabbed several nearby leaves and crushed them.
The crisp texture echoed softly in his ears.
Still unconvinced, he kicked at the sandy ground.
Grains scattered naturally.
Nothing behaved like a game.
Nothing resembled virtual reality.
"...How did this even happen?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"My brain can't process this..."
Closing his eyes, he forced himself to remember.
The memories gradually resurfaced.
Only a short while ago...
He had been sitting comfortably inside his room.
Nothing unusual had happened that day.
He had simply been bored.
Without anything better to do, he rummaged through one of his old external hard drives, searching for something nostalgic to pass the time.
That was when he found it.
The launcher.
HeavensTale.
Once upon a time, it had been his favorite game.
He had devoted years of his life to it.
The memories came flooding back as soon as he saw the familiar icon.
On impulse, he clicked it.
The launcher opened.
Then...
Light.
An indescribably brilliant beam exploded from his laptop screen.
It wasn't ordinary light.
It swallowed everything.
Within seconds, the entire room disappeared beneath an ocean of blinding white.
He couldn't even scream before his vision vanished completely.
And when the light finally faded...
He was here.
Deep inside an unfamiliar forest.
Still wearing his endgame equipment.
Still carrying everything his character possessed.
"...What kind of nonsense is this?"
Silence answered him.
For several long minutes, he simply sat there trying to piece together the impossible.
Eventually, another thought crossed his mind.
If this truly resembled HeavensTale...
Perhaps...
He stood up immediately.
"System Open."
Nothing happened.
"...Character."
Silence.
"Inventory."
Again...
Nothing.
No translucent windows.
No floating menus.
No status screen.
No cheerful notification.
Nothing appeared before him.
Mays frowned.
He tried again.
Different commands.
Different wording.
Different gestures.
"Status."
"Menu."
"Equipment."
"Quest."
"Map."
"...Open."
Every attempt ended the same way.
Nothing.
After nearly ten minutes of experimenting, he sighed deeply before sitting back down on the stone.
"So there really isn't a system..."
That alone confirmed one important fact.
This wasn't a virtual reality game.
It wasn't some immersive simulation either.
There were no convenient interfaces waiting for him.
No invisible assistant guiding him through the world.
Whatever this place was...
It operated like reality.
A genuine world.
His expression slowly became serious.
"If that's true..."
His eyes shifted toward the belt around his waist.
Unlike ordinary leather belts, this one possessed several metallic compartments arranged neatly around its surface.
His heart began beating faster.
"There should still be..."
He quickly examined every section before stopping at one particular corner.
A smile gradually appeared.
"There you are."
Carefully, he removed a small golden cube secured inside one of the compartments.
At first glance, it resembled an ordinary Rubik's Cube.
Only...
It was crafted entirely from polished gold.
Intricate inscriptions covered every surface, forming elegant geometric patterns he had never been able to appreciate while viewing them through a computer monitor.
Back then, it had simply been another game model.
Now...
He could actually hold it.
Feel its weight.
Trace the delicate engravings with his fingertips.
"Incredible..."
He turned it over several times.
One face contained a circular metallic plate positioned perfectly in the center.
Curious, he placed his thumb upon it.
Click.
The cube vibrated softly.
Golden lines illuminated across its surface.
"...Heh."
Mays smiled.
"Knew it."
The tiny cube suddenly expanded.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
Golden light erupted outward as the artifact transformed into an enormous cube nearly three meters wide.
Before he could react, an invisible force pulled him inside.
The world outside vanished.
Moments later, Mays found himself standing within an astonishing golden chamber.
"...Holy..."
Even though he had owned this Archive Cube for years inside the game...
This was the first time he had actually entered it.
The interior resembled a luxurious vault.
Golden walls shimmered beneath soft ambient light with no visible source.
Rows upon rows of massive stone shelves stretched before him.
Everything was perfectly organized.
Everything immaculate.
His breathing became slightly uneven.
"So this is what it actually looked like..."
Back during his hardcore gaming days, Mays had been a perfectionist.
Not merely competitive.
Obsessive.
If there existed a secret quest...
He completed it.
If there was a hidden boss...
He hunted it.
Limited-time events.
Seasonal rewards.
Impossible achievements.
World-first titles.
He pursued all of them relentlessly.
Months became years.
Thousands upon thousands of hours disappeared into HeavensTale.
Eventually...
There was simply nothing left for him to accomplish.
His character had reached absolute completion.
Now, standing inside the Archive Cube, he finally witnessed the physical manifestation of those countless years.
Five enormous stone shelves occupied the chamber.
Each one bore a polished plaque.
Weapons.
Armor.
Accessories.
Mounts.
Spirits.
Every shelf was filled.
Not nearly filled.
Completely filled.
Hundreds upon hundreds of stone tablets rested neatly in place.
Each represented a piece of equipment or companion stored safely inside the archive.
In the game, the archive existed solely to preserve Rare-grade items and above.
Whenever players acquired valuable equipment, they could register it permanently.
Afterward, the item could always be recreated from its corresponding archive tablet.
Most players possessed only a fraction of the available collection.
Mays...
Owned all of them.
Every legendary sword.
Every mythical armor.
Every rare accessory.
Every obtainable mount.
Every spirit companion.
Nothing was missing.
He slowly walked along the shelves, fingers brushing across the cold stone tablets.
The memories attached to each one resurfaced naturally.
Hours spent farming impossible bosses.
Sleepless nights competing for world events.
Guild wars.
Raid clears.
Hidden dungeons.
Secret chains.
Years of dedication.
"...They're all still here."
Relief washed over him.
Whatever had happened...
At least he hadn't lost everything.
His greatest advantage had survived the journey.
He continued browsing until two particular tablets caught his attention.
One rested within the Mount Rack.
The other inside the Accessories section.
Without hesitation, he removed them.
The first read:
Black Cross Lightning.
An Epic-grade mount.
The second...
Illusion Cape.
A smile appeared on his face.
"If I'm going to explore an unknown world..."
He looked toward the glowing exit.
"...I'd better stay cautious."
With both tablets in hand, Mays stepped out of the Archive Cube.
The golden chamber dissolved behind him.
In an instant, he was standing within the forest once more.
The Archive Cube had already shrunk back into its original palm-sized form, as though nothing extraordinary had happened.
He secured it once again inside his Infinite Space Belt.
Then...
He activated the first tablet.
Black lightning crackled across the ground.
The stone tablet shattered into countless glowing fragments.
A deep, powerful neigh echoed through the forest.
Standing before him was an imposing black warhorse.
Its sleek body resembled polished obsidian.
Its mane danced with faint arcs of electricity.
Although elegant in appearance, every muscle beneath its dark coat radiated explosive strength.
Despite looking like an ordinary horse from afar, Mays knew better.
Black Cross Lightning was an Epic-tier mount.
Against weaker monsters such as goblins or orcs...
It was more than capable of fighting on its own.
The second tablet dissolved into shimmering light.
Moments later, a plain gray traveling cloak materialized in Mays' hands.
The Illusion Cape.
Its appearance was completely ordinary.
Exactly what he wanted.
The brilliant crimson Flame Emperor Cape behind him instantly became far less eye-catching once concealed beneath the illusion.
Satisfied, Mays nodded to himself.
"Much better."
A man dressed head to toe in legendary armor attracted trouble.
A lone traveler in a simple cloak...
Did not.
The newly summoned warhorse stood patiently before him, its obsidian coat gleaming beneath the rays of the rising sun.
Despite its intimidating physique, it remained perfectly still.
Its crimson eyes followed Mays' every movement without a trace of hostility, as though it had recognized its master the instant it entered the world.
Mays reached out cautiously.
The moment his gloved hand touched its neck, a familiar warmth spread across his palm.
The horse lowered its head slightly.
"...So you remember me too."
A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
Back in HeavensTale, mounts weren't merely transportation.
High-ranked mounts possessed their own intelligence.
The stronger the mount, the greater its awareness became.
Black Cross Lightning had accompanied him through countless battlefields, hidden kingdoms, raid dungeons, and unexplored continents. Although those adventures had only existed inside a game—or so he had believed—the bond somehow remained.
The horse let out another quiet neigh before nudging his shoulder.
"I guess we're both just as confused."
For the first time since arriving in this strange world, Mays genuinely smiled.
Having something familiar beside him eased the unsettling feeling in his chest.
He draped the Illusion Cape across his shoulders.
The transformation was immediate.
The magnificent Flame Emperor Cape disappeared beneath what appeared to be an ordinary grey traveler's cloak.
Only Mays knew that the legendary artifact still rested underneath.
The Illusion Cape had never altered an item's abilities.
Instead, it concealed its appearance.
An incredibly useful accessory for players who wished to avoid unnecessary attention.
Considering he knew absolutely nothing about this world, drawing less attention sounded far wiser than announcing himself in full legendary equipment.
"That should do."
His hand instinctively rested on the hilt of the sword hanging from his waist.
Blood Devouring Sword.
Even after drawing it countless times inside the game, holding the weapon with his own hands felt surreal.
The blade slid free with a crisp metallic whisper.
Sunlight danced along the crimson-black steel.
Tiny crimson veins stretched across the blade like living arteries, pulsing faintly beneath the polished surface.
It looked every bit as terrifying as he remembered.
"...Let's see."
Mays turned toward a sturdy tree standing several meters away.
The trunk was easily thick enough that an ordinary man would need both arms to wrap around it.
Approximately five meters separated him from the target.
Perfect.
"If everything else carried over..."
His gaze sharpened.
"...then my abilities should too."
Back in HeavensTale, Mays wasn't merely another swordsman.
He was something far rarer.
The game's only Magic Swordsman.
A hidden class.
Obtaining it had been nothing short of insanity.
The quest chain alone had taken weeks of nonstop preparation.
Every decision mattered.
Every mistake resulted in failure.
Even worse...
Players only received one opportunity.
One failure.
One chance.
Lose it once...
It was gone forever.
Entire guilds had attempted uncovering the requirements.
Most never even discovered where the hidden quest began.
Mays had succeeded through equal parts persistence, deduction, and absurd luck.
When he finally unlocked the class, the entire server exploded with excitement.
To this day, no one else had ever managed to replicate it.
Hidden classes weren't simply cosmetic upgrades.
Their growth far exceeded ordinary classes.
If a fully developed standard class represented one hundred percent of its potential...
Then a hidden class could comfortably surpass that ceiling.
Perhaps by twenty percent.
Perhaps even more.
No one truly knew.
The developers had never released official numbers.
Only results mattered.
And the results spoke for themselves.
Mays slowly inhaled.
There were no hotkeys.
No skill bar.
No cooldown icons.
No glowing interface waiting for input.
This wasn't a game anymore.
Which meant...
He couldn't rely on game mechanics.
He closed his eyes.
Instead of thinking about buttons...
He recalled the movement.
The feeling.
The flow of energy each skill required.
The countless thousands of times he had performed it.
His muscles remembered.
His mind remembered.
Even his breathing unconsciously adjusted into the familiar rhythm.
The sword lowered slightly.
His feet shifted.
His body entered a stance so natural it felt instinctive.
"...Sonic Slash."
He spoke the words almost absentmindedly.
Not because they were necessary.
But because years of habit were difficult to erase.
His body moved.
One clean horizontal swing.
Elegant.
Precise.
The blade sliced through empty air—
—and a crescent of compressed force erupted from its edge.
WHOOSH!
The invisible blade raced across the clearing.
Before Mays could fully react—
BOOM!
The distant tree split cleanly in half.
The upper portion slid sideways before crashing into the forest floor with a thunderous roar.
Birds scattered into the sky.
Leaves exploded outward.
Silence followed.
Mays blinked.
"...It worked."
His heartbeat quickened.
"It actually worked..."
He looked down at his sword.
Then back at the fallen tree.
The attack hadn't felt artificial.
No flashing effects.
No magical HUD.
No exaggerated animations.
It had happened because he made it happen.
As naturally as throwing a punch.
His lips slowly curled upward.
"I understand now."
This world didn't reject his abilities.
It simply demanded that he perform them himself.
No system.
No automated activation.
Only technique.
Only intent.
Only mastery.
A grin spread across his face.
"This is even better."
The excitement he'd been suppressing since his arrival finally surfaced.
For the next several hours, the forest echoed with the sounds of repeated experimentation.
Every attack became another lesson.
Every lesson revealed another possibility.
He tested Sonic Slash repeatedly.
At first, each attack carried enough force to sever massive trees.
Then he deliberately reduced its output.
Instead of splitting trunks apart, the next slash merely carved shallow cuts into bark.
Another adjustment.
The attack became even weaker, clipping only a handful of leaves from distant branches.
"...So I can regulate the strength."
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Inside the game, every skill possessed fixed damage values.
Here...
Power depended entirely upon how much force he intended to release.
He experimented further.
One slash.
Five percent.
Ten percent.
Twenty.
Half strength.
Each variation produced dramatically different results.
The skill obeyed him perfectly.
Rather than being confined by game mechanics...
It functioned like genuine swordsmanship enhanced through magic.
A strange realization struck him.
"In other words..."
He raised the sword again.
"...I'm no longer limited by programming."
An ordinary player from the game would probably find this impossible.
Mays, however, had always obsessed over understanding combat mechanics.
His countless hours mastering timing and positioning were suddenly paying dividends.
He wasn't simply recreating skills.
He was adapting them.
Refining them.
Making them his own.
The realization filled him with anticipation.
"If this continues..."
His eyes gleamed.
"...there might not even be an upper limit."
He proceeded to test every combat technique he could remember.
Movement skills.
Sword techniques.
Magic-enhanced attacks.
Defensive arts.
Enhancement abilities.
One after another.
Each succeeded.
Sometimes the execution felt awkward.
Other times it flowed effortlessly.
Whenever something failed, he simply adjusted his breathing or movement before trying again.
Eventually, every familiar technique returned to him.
By the time the sun had begun climbing higher into the sky, dozens of trees around the clearing bore evidence of his experiments.
Some had been sliced cleanly apart.
Others carried perfectly straight cuts.
Several enormous boulders displayed razor-thin fractures.
Yet remarkably...
The surrounding forest remained largely intact.
Mays had intentionally restrained himself.
Even while experimenting, he had no desire to destroy the landscape unnecessarily.
Satisfied, he sheathed Blood Devouring Sword.
The blade slid home with a satisfying click.
"...That answers one question."
He walked back toward the smooth oval stone he'd used earlier and sat down once again.
This time, however, the confusion that had weighed upon him since arriving had diminished considerably.
A smile lingered on his face.
Everything he had feared losing...
His equipment.
His archive.
His hidden class.
His combat skills.
They had all survived.
Perhaps more importantly...
They no longer felt constrained by invisible game systems.
Instead, they behaved as genuine abilities.
That alone made them far more dangerous than before.
Mays leaned backward slightly while resting one elbow upon his knee.
His thoughts naturally drifted toward his Infinite Space Belt.
The legendary belt remained fastened securely around his waist.
Unlike ordinary belts, this artifact contained multiple independent storage spaces.
He opened the inventory mentally—not through a system interface, but by instinctively reaching into the belt's magical storage.
Objects responded almost immediately.
"...Convenient."
One by one, several items materialized in his hands before disappearing again.
The storage still functioned exactly as before.
He began reviewing everything he possessed.
The Infinite Space Belt had once been the pinnacle of storage equipment.
Every player began their journey with a Normal-grade Space Belt.
Simple.
Reliable.
Extremely limited.
Each belt contained four separate sections.
Inventory.
Miscellaneous.
Materials.
Archive.
Although their external appearance remained identical regardless of rarity, the internal dimensions differed enormously.
Each higher rank doubled the storage capacity of the previous one.
Normal.
Uncommon.
Rare.
Epic.
Legend.
His belt represented the final stage.
Furthermore, he had expanded it using additional enhancement items collected throughout years of gameplay.
Compared to an ordinary adventurer...
His storage capacity bordered on absurdity.
Each major compartment measured well over thirty cubic meters.
Enough space to transport supplies for an entire expedition.
The Inventory compartment remained surprisingly empty.
Mays had never enjoyed carrying unnecessary equipment.
Whenever he acquired inferior gear, he archived it before discarding the original.
As a result, only his most essential equipment remained there.
The Miscellaneous compartment proved far more impressive.
Rows upon rows of potion bottles occupied neatly organized shelves.
Healing potions.
Mana restoration potions.
Stamina recovery potions.
Status recovery medicines.
Countless varieties.
From Tier One...
All the way to Tier Four.
Each type existed in stacks numbering at least ten.
A normal player would probably consider such stockpiles excessive.
Mays disagreed completely.
"In long fights..."
He muttered to himself.
"...preparation wins."
One of HeavensTale's lesser-known mechanics involved potion cooldowns.
Different potion tiers shared separate cooldown timers.
Most players only carried the strongest version available.
Mays never made that mistake.
Instead, he carried every tier.
If necessary, he could consume four different healing potions consecutively.
The total recovery often surpassed relying solely upon a single high-grade potion.
It was one of the many habits he'd developed while playing alone.
Solo players couldn't afford sloppy preparation.
They survived by planning ahead.
His gaze shifted toward the Materials compartment.
Unlike his inventory...
This section was packed.
Absolutely packed.
Monster hides.
Rare ores.
Magical herbs.
Dragon scales.
Spirit crystals.
Alchemy ingredients.
Smithing materials.
Runic stones.
There were materials collected from nearly every region HeavensTale had ever introduced.
Common resources.
Legendary resources.
Seasonal drops.
Event-exclusive items.
He had kept everything.
Not because he necessarily needed them...
But because selling them had never interested him.
Gold had ceased being a concern long ago.
His wealth had reached the maximum amount the game allowed.
He literally couldn't earn more.
Nor had he ever felt inclined to distribute his fortune.
He possessed remarkably few close friends.
Only his younger brother and a handful of companions had regularly played alongside him.
Even then...
They had never lacked money themselves.
There had simply been no reason.
His inspection finally ended.
Everything remained untouched.
Everything remained complete.
Mays released a slow breath.
"...Good."
His greatest concern had been losing access to his accumulated resources.
Fortunately...
That fear had proven unnecessary.
Now came the truly difficult part.
He folded his arms thoughtfully.
"So..."
"What exactly should I do next?"
No answer came.
Only birdsong drifted through the quiet forest.
He organized his thoughts one by one.
Panic accomplished nothing.
Guesswork accomplished even less.
He needed facts.
Real information.
Not assumptions.
"I don't know where I am."
"I don't know what country this is."
"I don't know whether this world is actually HeavensTale or simply resembles it."
"I don't know how strong people here are."
"I don't know their language, currency, politics, or history."
Every unknown represented potential danger.
Charging forward blindly would only invite disaster.
Fortunately...
He had always been patient.
Planning before acting had saved his life countless times inside the game.
There was no reason to abandon that habit now.
His conclusion came naturally.
"First things first."
"I need information."
Only after understanding this world's rules could he begin deciding his future.
Whether this place truly was the world of HeavensTale...
Or something else entirely...
He would discover the answer eventually.
Until then...
Observation came before action.
Decision came before ambition.
Mays rose from the stone once more.
His expression had regained its usual calmness.
Whatever force had brought him here...
Complaining wouldn't send him home.
Surviving would.
And survival always began with understanding one's surroundings.
With that thought settled firmly in his mind, he turned toward the patiently waiting Black Cross Lightning.
The great warhorse pawed the ground once, as though sensing its master's decision.
Mays smiled faintly.
"Looks like it's time."
He grasped the saddle and mounted the horse in one smooth motion.
To his surprise, the movement felt completely natural.
His body instinctively found perfect balance.
Even the reins responded effortlessly.
It felt less like riding an unfamiliar animal...
...and more like reconnecting with an old companion after years apart.
Black Cross Lightning snorted softly.
Mays gently tugged the reins.
"Let's find out what kind of world we've arrived in."