Chapter 1

What was my life worth? Nothing more than a grain of sand, carried away on the current of fate.

The cold edge of a blade hovered at my throat. And in that instant, a single thought surfaced: “Perhaps it would not be so terrible if it ended here.”

—Your Highness! Quickly—flee!

—So long as you live, the future of Ellorang… ugh!

Thump! I was shoved to the ground with brutal force. Above me, hot rain poured down—not water, but blood.

The nameless soldier who had shielded me lay dead. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, stared unblinking. That last, sightless gaze spoke louder than words: Survive—for Ellorang.

I had been their King since birth. Yet what reason did I truly have to live?

—Hah… hah… hah…!

My breath came ragged. My legs pounded furiously, burning so fiercely I could scarcely feel the pain. I knew not where I was going—only that I had to run. Survival was my final duty.

—The King of Ellorang is fleeing!

—Do not let her escape!

—Archers—loose!

A storm of arrows ripped through the sky, snapping like the jaws of wolves. Still, I ran. Instinct, not courage, kept me alive.

My name is Harmonia Jee Ellorang. I am the young, powerless King of a kingdom whose world has been overturned.

But my tale does not begin here. It begins a century earlier, with a mystery.

In an age long past, upon the ancestral lands of the Titans, a black tower erupted from the earth. It had no windows. Only a single sealed gate marred its surface. Its peak vanished into the clouds, as though it sought to pierce the heavens.

No force could pry the gate open. No blade, no spell, not even the mightiest siege engines left so much as a scratch upon its walls.

Then a blacksmith spoke:

—This tower is not of this world. It is forged of the Devil’s own material.

No one knew whence it had come, nor why it appeared.

The proud Lexio Empire raged when even its vast armies and endless resources could not bring the tower down. Humiliated, Lexio turned its wrath upon the Titans, declaring their land cursed. Many nations followed. They slaughtered the Titans and sealed their homeland. Within a year, their kind was nearly gone.

And then, the world itself changed.

The sky darkened, and vast words appeared, blotting out the heavens.

[Conditions for Invasion have been met. The System is now unlocked.]

Though the script was foreign, all who beheld it understood.

[Event Occurring. A D831-301 Dimensional Gate has been opened.]

[The D831-301 Dimension’s System is activating its exclusive skill: ‘Systematization.’]

[A blessing is bestowed upon the D831-301 Dimension.]

[The Wheel of Blessings turns.]

[Congratulations! You have received the ‘Tarot Card of Olga’ (Mythic Rank)!]

[From this day forth, until the next update, every newborn child of the D831-301 Dimension shall be granted one Tarot Card of Olga, Goddess of Fate.]

The world reeled in confusion. “What could it mean?”

The answer came swiftly, with the birth of the next child.

[The Tarot Card of Olga is being activated.]

[The Tarot Card of Olga: A divine card belonging to Olga, Goddess of Fate and Fortune from the A007-21 Dimension. Each child receives one card, bound permanently at birth.]

As the first newborns entered the world, golden circles of light unfurled around their tiny bodies, umbilical cords still uncut.

[The skill ‘Glimmering Eyes’ (Common Rank) is bound to you.]

[The skill ‘Sparrow’s Song’ (Common Rank) is bound to you.]

[The skill ‘Fawn’s Leg Strength’ (Common Rank) is bound to you.]

The infants could not comprehend, but their parents did. They saw the words written above their children and understood.

Most received Common Rank skills—small gifts. A little extra strength. A knack for song. A craftsman’s steady hand. Useful, but not miraculous.

But the rarer the card, the greater the power.

[The skill ‘Hand-Held Fireball’ (Rare Rank) is bound to you.]

[The skill ‘Seasoned Adventurer’s Courage’ (Heroic Rank) is bound to you.]

[The skill ‘Heart of a Lion King’ (Legendary Rank) is bound to you.]

These children conjured fire without training, healed wounds with unnatural speed, or spoke with wisdom beyond their years. To many, they seemed touched by the gods.

The System’s origins remained a mystery, but mankind welcomed it as providence. They set a new calendar by its coming: Year 1, Month 1, Day 1 of the World Era.

From Years 1 to 20, birth rates soared, and those born in that age became the Golden Generation. By Year 21, when they reached adulthood, civilization advanced at a staggering pace.

New phenomena appeared—dungeons, brimming with monsters and treasures, which only the skilled could enter.

[Seabird’s Nest (Rare Rank Dungeon)]

[Little Dwarf’s Laboratory (Heroic Rank Dungeon)]

Those who braved these trials became known as Hunters, though none remember who first named them.

Then, in World Year 76, a prodigy appeared: Blanc Marca, the first bearer of a Mythic-ranked skill. With her power, Crystal Network, she forged a web of crystal spheres, allowing all people—regardless of birth or station—to speak across the globe.

Within five years, anonymous voices filled vast bulletin boards. Information spread like wildfire. Dungeon raids flourished. Treasure poured forth. Hunters rose in fame and fortune. The greatest among them were revered as Rankers—lords of wealth and renown.

And then came World Year 80—the true dawn of the Hunter Age—the year of my birth.

[A miraculous event has occurred!]

[Congratulations, Harmonia Jee Ellorang—your Tarot Card reveals the Mythic-ranked skill, ‘Harmonia’s Necklace’!]

With the rise of the Hunter Age, the old class system began to falter. Some nations welcomed Hunters into the nobility. But my homeland, the Kingdom of Ellorang, clung to its rigid hierarchies. Hunters were judged not by power, but by birth. And by the time Ellorang sought to change, it was already too late.

Our kingdom weakened. One by one, my parents and kin withered away, leaving the royal house hollow.

—My vessel is too frail to hold you, my child. Forgive me… live strong, unyielding…

—Sleep well, my Hani. Tomorrow… ah, I am so tired… forgive me, my child… forgive me…

I was very young, but I remember. Their last whispers still echo, shackling me whenever I dared hope to master my cursed gift. This, too, was my misfortune.

After their deaths, while I was still a child, the Central Council of nobles seized power. I followed them then, naïve enough to believe they acted for the good of the realm.

But as I grew, I learned the truth. I followed because I had no choice.

I was King in name alone. A powerless monarch. My voice meant nothing.

And so, I longed for strength.

—A Mythic-ranked skill cannot exist solely to curse its bearer. If I could but seize its true power… there must be a way.