Krad stirred awake the next morning, his body heavy and limbs aching. The lingering taste of roasted venison and sweet elderflower juice still clung to his tongue. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as sunlight trickled through the wooden shutters of the elf-made inn.
"Ugh... I swear, I ate enough to feed an army."
But something was off.
The sheets felt softer. The air smelled different---fresh, like a forest after the rain. And then… there was the sound. A low, melodic hum, like distant chimes echoing through the breeze.
Krad sat up, blinking groggily. His body felt… lighter. The fatigue from last night's feast was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar energy coursing through his veins.
Weird.
Pushing himself upright, Krad's fingers brushed against his ears. His heart immediately skipped a beat.
"...What the hell?"
The tips of his ears were sharp. Pointed. Far too long to be human.
Panic flooded his chest.
He scrambled out of the bed and nearly tripped over his own feet. His limbs moved differently, more fluidly like his body had been fine-tuned for agility. He rushed across the room, bursting into what appeared to be a washroom, the sound of water trickling from a stone basin. A mirror, framed with twisted vines and silver accents, hung above it.
He froze.
The face staring back at him wasn't his own.
His once dark hair had lightened into a brilliant cascade of amber and gold. His eyes? No longer the dull brown he remembered, it gleamed with an intense golden brilliance, almost like molten fire.
His breathing grew ragged.
He stumbled back from the mirror, his hands trembling.
"What the hell happened to me?"
System Notification
Congratulations, Player 143!
Your Race Has Been Decided: [Elf]
Due to your exceptional agility and latent magical potential, you have been selected as a member of the Elven race. Your body has undergone its appropriate transformation. Your attributes have been adjusted accordingly.
Krad's hands curled into fists. "No, no, no. I didn't choose this!"
System Notification
Player Race Selection has been deemed most suitable for your current stats. Due to your overwhelming compatibility with the Moon Eater's power, the system has permanently assigned you to the Elven race. Changes are irreversible.
Enjoy your new identity!
"Enjoy?!" he growled. "I didn't ask for this!"
But the interface faded before he could protest further. Silence fell upon the room once again.
He paced back and forth, his thoughts racing. Elves were typically elegant, graceful, and annoyingly serene in most games. Sure, they had killer magic, but he wasn't some robe-wearing, spell-slinging sage! He wanted to be a brawler, a warrior who fought with his fists. This body didn't scream strength. It screamed delicate forest prince.
He grimaced. "Great. Now I look like some fancy elf lord in a romance novel."
But there was no use complaining. The system made it clear. This was permanent. He had no choice but to accept it.
He let out a slow breath, running his fingers through his now golden-streaked hair. "Alright. Fine. Whatever. Elf or not, I'm still me."
Just as he was trying to wrap his head around his sudden transformation, a loud BANG! echoed from the door, nearly making him jump out of his skin.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Human! Get up already, you lazy twig!" Drugo's deep voice boomed from the other side.
He groaned, rubbing his temple. "Ugh, it's too early for this..."
The door swung open before he even had a chance to reach for the handle. But the moment Drugo took a look at Krad, he froze. His emerald eyes widened, disbelief flickering across his usually stern face.
"What in the name of the Great Eldertree...?"
Krad awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Huh...?"
Drugo's expression hardened instantly, and within seconds, roots erupted from the floor, wrapping around Krad's arms and legs.
"HEY! AGAIN WITH THE ROOTS?!" Krad yelled, thrashing against the restraints. "Seriously, is this how you guys greet people?! What the hell is wrong with you?!?"
Drugo took a threatening step closer, his gaze sharp as daggers.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
Krad scowled. "What do you mean, 'who am I'? It's me, Krad! The same guy who cleaned out your restaurant last night!"
Before Drugo could respond, a piercing scream shattered the morning calm, echoing from just outside the restaurant. Both of them froze, their eyes locking.
"That's Hanan!" Without thinking, Krad strained against the roots binding him. "Let me go, dammit!"
Drugo hesitated for only a moment before waving his hand. The roots recoiled, slithering back into the wooden floor.
"Stay close," Drugo growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "If you're lying about who you are, I'll deal with you myself."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Krad shot back, already sprinting toward the source of the scream. Despite the unfamiliar sensation of his new elven body, his movements were unnaturally swift and light. His feet barely made a sound against the polished wooden floors of the inn.
Drugo followed close behind, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. The two burst through the inn's door, stepping into the bustling streets of the Elven village.
Hanan, curled on the ground, clutching her side. Towering over her was an Elf with long yellow hair tied in a braid, her brown robe gleaming ominously in the sunlight. She was twirling an arrow in her fingers, her bow slung casually over her shoulder.
"You call yourself an Elf?" She sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "You're nothing but a disgrace to the Elves!"
Hanan bit her lip, her face pale and tear-streaked. She tried to speak, but the Elf Archer cut her off kicking her wounded shoulder.
Krad felt his blood boil. "You Poop!" he shouted.
The Elf eyes widened, her smirk faltering for a fraction of a second. "Did you just call me… poop?" she asked, her voice dangerously sweet, as if trying to process the absurdity.
Krad, undeterred, crossed his arms and nodded. "Yeah, I did. Ugly, stinky poop." He shot a glance at Drugo, who was doing his best to suppress a laugh.
Drugo coughed, his massive frame shaking with the effort. "Well, that's one way to insult someone." He whispered.
The Elf stared at them both, her face contorting in disbelief. "You think you can insult me like that?!" She nocked another arrow and pointed it at Krad's head.
"This... is bad," Drugo muttered when he saw a group of men approaching in the distance.
"Ah, this newbie finally caught up," a cold, mocking voice rang out from a figure with glowing gold armor, his interface revealing the name Liyab.
"Tree Man," Krad whispered, tugging on the larger man's sleeve. "What's going on? Why are they looking at us like that?"
Drugo's jaw tightened. "Because now they can see you... and you're a player like them."
"That blue scarf," Liyab sneered, his red eyes narrowing. "Where did you find it, kid?"
Krad stepped back instinctively. "It was... a reward. For leveling up...I guess?"
The group of high-leveled players exchanged knowing glances, then burst into laughter.
"A reward?" Liyab chuckled. "You think something ultra rare item like that just drops for someone like you?"
Krad frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Drugo stepped in front of him, shielding him with his massive frame. "Ignore him. These kinds of players hunt for items like the one you're wearing. It's not about you. It's about what they can take."
Liyab smirked. "Oh, come on, retired Drugo. You know how the game works. It's all fair play. If the kid's wearing it, then he has to fight for it. Unless..." He tilted his head mockingly. "He's too scared?"
The taunt hung in the air, thick with the tension of impending conflict. Krad's eyes narrowed, "Scared?" He said, his voice steady but full of conviction. "I'm not scared of you."
The words were like a challenge thrown into the wind. Liyab's red eyes glittered with a cruel, mocking gleam. He raised a hand and waved it dismissively, turning to the others with a laugh. The Elf Archer joined in, the sound echoing in the stillness of the morning.
"Not scared?" The Elf chuckled, her voice sharp. "This is rich. A level 10 noob thinking he can stand up to us." She twirled her arrow in her fingers with casual arrogance, her earlier venomous attitude fading into amusement. "You're in way over your head, kid."
Krad's gaze remained fixed on Liyab, his defiant posture unwavering. The others in the group---players clad in heavy armor and resplendent gear snickered behind their leader, their confidence nearly as suffocating as the glare from Liyab's eyes.
Liyab took a step closer, his voice low and threatening. "You think this is some kind of joke? Let me show you just how outmatched you are."
Drugo's hand clenched, but before he could intervene, Liyab raised his hand, signaling him to stay back.
"Let him have his moment," Liyab said, his grin widening. "We'll see if he's really not scared."
Krad stood tall, staring into his opponent cruel smile. Liyab's eyes flicked to the Elf, a silent command passing between them. She raised her bow, her arrow aimed squarely at Krad's heart. But Liyab's voice stopped her.
"Bruwa. Not here," he said, his voice smooth but carrying a weight of authority. "We'll take this somewhere better," his smile widening as his gaze swept over Krad and the small crowd gathering. "I'm inviting you to something more fitting. A challenge. Three days from now, the Rage will begin."
The crowd murmured in surprise. The Rage was a legendary 1v1 battle tournament, a place where players could put everything on the line for fame, loot, and, most importantly, respect. Only the bravest and the most skilled dared to participate, and only the strongest emerged victorious.
Liyab shows the place where the Rage will be held using his minimap, a massive coliseum located at Sorsogon City. "If you really think you're ready, show up. I'll be there, along with Bruwa and the others," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Let's see if you're truly not scared when the real fight begins."
The idea of entering the Rage stirred something inside Krad. His fingers itched to fight, to prove himself that he wasn't just some weakling. He met Liyab's mocking stare without flinching. "I'll be there," he said, his voice calm and resolute. "And I'll make sure you regret underestimating us."
Liyab's eyes glinted with amusement. "We'll see," he said, turning on his heel, signaling to his group. Bruwa gave a final sneer to Bulan before following Liyab, her eyes burning with disdain, but there was also a flicker of curiosity. Perhaps she, too, was eager to see what the strange new player was capable of. The others in Liyab's party followed suit, their footsteps echoing as they disappeared down the street.