"Finally… finally, I've reached the final door. The final quest. At last, I can relieve humankind from this cursed burden of endless quests."
The words echoed from a man in his late twenties. He stood in a vast, pitch-black chamber—so massive it could swallow an entire mansion. Shadows ruled the space, concealing everything… except for one thing.
A colossal golden gate stood before him, radiating an unnatural glow. It was enormous—so tall and wide that a human standing before it looked like an ant trying to face a mountain.
The man was bleeding from multiple wounds. His armor—once majestic and golden—was now in tatters, barely clinging to his bruised body. His full-plate armor had once been infused with different Wraths, but now only remnants remained.
He extended his right hand, fingers trembling, and gripped the gate's massive handle. With a deep breath, he pushed. It was heavy—absurdly so—but his strength was enough.
The gate creaked open.
KREEEAAAKKK!!
A crimson light poured out from beyond, bathing him in an eerie red glow. His pale skin shimmered under the light, and his medium-length black hair caught the crimson hue. He wasn't average by any means—his looks were sharp, almost ethereal. Not too muscular, not too lean—a perfectly sculpted warrior.
Then… he saw it.
His eyes widened, nearly popping from their sockets. His mouth opened to scream, but the sound was cut off as several branches—twisting and multicolored, from the brightest whites to the deepest blacks—pierced his heart.
Blood gushed from his lips like a burst of carbonated drink. Tears streamed down his cheeks. It was horrifying.
And then… a screen appeared before him—crimson in color, cold in tone.
[You are dying.]
His eyes slowly closed. His body fell still—his limbs froze, his heartbeat stopped, his lungs ceased. His brain shut down, and he slipped into an eternal slumber.
A blade—dark as the void itself—fell from his grip with a metallic clang. It hit the floor beside his lifeless form.
But who was this man?
Why did he have to die?
What lay beyond that gate?
What were those monstrous branches?
And above all… what was the final quest?
He was Lucian Vale, the strongest adventurer in human history.
The beginning of it all was strange. One day, every human on Earth awakened to a crimson screen in front of their eyes. The screen listed countless quests—each one ranked by difficulty. From that day onward, people were divided into two types: Adventurers, those who accepted the quests… and Ordinaries, those who did not.
Refusing a quest didn't destroy your life, but it came at a cost—a quarter of your lifespan vanished instantly. A man destined to live 100 years would only live 75 if he denied the call.
Adventurers were managed by the world's central governments. Their quests weren't simple—they required power, strength, and sometimes the will to kill beasts that didn't belong to this world. These powers were called Wraths.
But to receive a Wrath, one first had to complete a Class Quest. Upon completing it, a person would receive a Class, each with its own strengths and growth potential. Some were weak. Others were monstrous.
Adventurers had privileges: global travel without restrictions, government funding, unimaginable wealth. The top adventurers were the richest people on the planet.
There was a myth… whispered in guilds and back alleys alike:
"If someone completes the Final Quest, humankind will finally be free from the tyranny of the Crimson System."
Most called it nonsense—why would adventurers want freedom when they lived better than kings?
But Lucian Vale believed in that myth. He fought for it.
He achieved everything—power, glory, respect. He saved millions.
And still, he died.
Right before finishing the one quest that could have changed everything.
But… what did he see in that final room?
What was so terrifying that even the greatest of all could not endure it?
Only Lucian Vale knew.
And now… he's gone.