Over the past four years, Lein had changed a lot.
There was no trace left of his skinny, childlike body — now it was in excellent shape. The muscles in his arms and legs weren't bulky, but they were firm and wiry. What stood out most was his height — at the modest age of twelve, Lein was already almost as tall as an adult.
Today, he was once again heading to the Dusk City with a massive backpack on his back. For now, it only carried monster fangs and hides, but after the visit, the contents would change significantly.
Over the years, Lein had learned how to visit the Dusk City on his own. At first, Raine had accompanied him, explaining where to buy special teas and spices for meat, which materials were worth processing at the forge. He also tried to make Lein befriend the children from the First and Second Levels. But it was all in vain: children from the First acted as if nobility was in their blood from birth, and those from the Second were too naive and foolish, as if the world were just a game. Lein found them noisy and annoying.
After a few failed attempts, Raine gave up.
By the fourth year, Lein was traveling to the city alone, a journey that took two to three hours depending on his load. Around that time, Raine secured a Token for the boy from the king — a special artifact that served both as identification and a wallet for trade. And that was when Lein first encountered the system he had only heard about before.
Tokens were divided by color and status:
• Bronze — for common citizens.
• Silver — for knights, with three tiers: Third (novices) to First (distinguished warriors).
• Gold — for generals. These had no ranks, but each bore the king's seal.
• Ethereal — unique. Only members of the royal family could possess them, excluding the king himself.
Princess Alice, the bearer of an Ethereal Token, was rarely seen in public. Her purchases became legend, and her Token — a whispered relic, like a phantom of the streets.
Lein was issued a Second-Tier Silver Token. At first, he didn't understand how it worked. He was told — coins and paper money were no longer needed. What mattered now was blood.
He ran a finger along the edge of the Token, and it absorbed a drop of blood. At that moment, a glowing mark appeared on its surface — a soul seal. Beside it, a number lit up: 0.
Later, Lein learned that each soul was unique, and the Token bonded to it through an embedded soul shard. This made counterfeiting impossible. The metal used to forge a Token could be bronze, silver, or — in exceptional cases — ethereal.
The issuance of Tokens was managed by the TMA — the Trust Management Authority, located on the First Level. They maintained records of all Token holders. Lein had heard that the king once created an initial pool of points — exactly one million — by infusing them with his own blood. These points, distributed among five trusted economists, launched the entire system.
These points — commonly called Dams — weren't just virtual numbers. They were literally forged from blood. They were currency, units of trust, and a key part of the large-scale economy.
Each Token could store and transfer Dams, but there were limitations:
• Bronze Token — up to 10 transactions per week.
• Silver Token — up to 50.
• Gold Token — no limits, but every transaction was archived by the TMA.
• Ethereal... its capabilities were unknown to commoners.
Lein soon realized that even a Bronze Token wasn't easy to obtain. A soul shard had a price — a family heirloom, an artifact, or even a piece of weaponry had to be sacrificed. That explained their rarity.
They weren't just wallets — they became part of the owner's soul.
To buy something, a person would press a finger to their Token, drop a bit of blood, and activate it. The seller would do the same. If both sides agreed — the Dams would transfer.
The amount was determined by the wills of the Token holders. If both were willing to trade for 10 Dams, the transaction would go through. But if either disagreed or wanted a different amount, it would fail.
Raine explained that this was possible thanks to the soul shard — a conduit for the owner's will.
Thus was born a virtual economy governed by blood, will, soul, and the TMA. Fraud was nearly impossible. All transactions were tracked in real-time by TMA personnel.
The system was frighteningly precise, merciless, and nearly perfect.
Nearly.
There were always those who wanted more than they deserved.
Stealing a Token was pointless — if the owner opposed, even the blood would be mystically protected by their will. So even trying to use someone's blood was futile.
But blackmailing or killing the owner or their family… that still worked.
Unfortunately, this was a flaw of any economic system.
The TMA stored copies of every Token and had countless employees monitoring transactions in real time.
If a Token holder died — it was recorded in the system.
In case of loss, the holder paid a massive penalty or forfeited the right to own one. To restore access, Dams had to be transferred from the backup to a new Token — with a new soul.
Blackmail was kept to a minimum: the TMA swiftly flagged suspicious activity and knew the identity of every user.
In short, the system was relatively safe — except on the Third Level.
That was where the filth rose to the surface.
Most people didn't understand how Tokens worked and often tried to kill the holder, hoping to claim the Token.
But such cases were rare — real Token holders didn't live down there. They avoided the Third Level altogether.
Lein, unfortunately, always had to pass through it on his way to the Second.
He stood before the massive outer gates of the city. The city itself had a circular shape and only two exits: one gate to the north and one to the south. Both led into the Third Level, as the city levels were concentric circles.
Finally, movement stirred near the wall.
Several knights carrying torches with yellow flames opened the gates and stopped Lein.
— Well, look who it is. Isn't that the student of our former General — Lein? Back again for supplies?
The voice was familiar. Lein immediately recognized it.
— Hello, Sir Will. Yes, I'm here on my teacher's orders, — he replied, bowing respectfully and crossing his arms over his chest.
Will was a third-tier Silver Knight, just one step below a general.
His armor gleamed in the torchlight he held in his right hand. His helmet was being carried by another knight. Will's left hand rested on the hilt of the sword hanging from his waist.
He had thick brown curls and neatly curled mustache of the same color. His blue eyes reflected the flame, adding a spark to his gaze. His armor looked light and exotic, and a chainmail could be seen underneath.
The two knights behind him were clad in heavy iron plate from head to toe. They also carried torches.
Curiosity got the better of Lein, and he couldn't hold back:
— Why are you guarding the northern gate? Regular knights used to be enough.
Will stepped closer and, chuckling, ruffled Lein's black hair with his left hand.
— You're as curious as ever. Well, fine. I'll tell you. Everyone's going to find out soon anyway. Strange things have been happening in the Dark Forest. Packs of monkeys have appeared, and there's a chance they might attack. The king is planning to send a team of heroes, but they're still busy with more important matters.
Lein pushed Will's torch to the side and pondered.
«A team of heroes... They've been leaving the city a lot lately, hunting in the East, sometimes even in the West. Princess Alice, the Dark Knight Ed, the white-haired ice mage Kai, and the shadow scout Lenar. Their names are everywhere, especially on the Second Level. Kids are always playing make-believe, dragging me into their games… Whatever. So the Dark Forest is dangerous now. And our cave near the lake — it's right there, northwest. If the monkeys decide to attack, they'll hit it first. I need to talk to Raine about this.»
Will noticed Lein's focused expression and smiled.
— No need to worry yet. The monkeys that came out of the forest — they're just lost, half-dead beasts. If we're lucky, there won't be a fight. They'll go back on their own.
Lein nodded silently.
— Anyway, I just wanted you to know. Tell your teacher. I won't keep you any longer.
With that, Will headed back into the city, and the two knights followed.
Lein stepped in after them.
The Third Level remained as grim and foul-smelling as ever.
The air was thick and rotten, soaked in hopelessness. People drifted through the narrow, dirty streets like shadows of themselves — without thought, without emotion, without purpose. Their faces were empty, as if their souls had long departed, leaving behind only husks wandering by habit.
Near the city wall, where the stone was slick with eternal damp, three children sat huddled together like wounded chicks clinging to the last remnants of warmth. There was no light or fear in their eyes — only deep, lifeless darkness. They were so emaciated that their skin clung to their bones, making them look more like skeletons than living beings.
Two of them were trembling from the icy southern wind that cut to the bone. Their clothing was a mockery of garments — torn, filthy rags stained with dried filth and unidentifiable smears.
Lein stopped for a few seconds. His gaze slid over the children. Something in the scene struck an old nerve, reopening an old wound.
— Hah... Damn it. Disgusting memories. And it's always the same.
He said it out loud, almost in a whisper, as if to himself. Then turned away and continued walking toward the southern section of the city — toward the gates of the Second Level.
A little further ahead, Lein recognized some familiar faces: a few thugs who had once served under Hale. They used to irritate him, but now — they stirred only indifference.
To his surprise, Lein had heard that Hale had vanished without a trace after that fateful day. His subordinates, left without a leader, had at first savored the taste of freedom. But freedom doesn't last long in a place like this — soon, a new leader emerged. He was also a former knight, but far more cunning and careful than his predecessor. Under his command, the gang began to act quietly, like rats in the night, avoiding patrols.
Yes, even the Third Level now had patrols — knights who roamed the streets. They were few, but enough to create an illusion of order.
Lein pretended not to notice either the thugs or the knights. He didn't get involved. There was no point. As long as they didn't touch him, he wouldn't touch them.
But then he noticed where the thugs were heading.
«Toward those three… I think I know why…»
Hunger had become the enemy of the city.
The king had stopped supplying food to the Third Level. That decision was a death sentence. A slow, agonizing hell began below.
And then people began to eat people.
«They… they're going to eat the kids?.. How stupid can they be…»
Even after realizing this, Lein didn't quicken his pace. He knew how the world worked. He knew that interference brought pain, and inaction — emptiness. He chose emptiness.
But then, screams erupted behind him.
He stopped.
— NO! Take me instead! Don't touch my sister! Somebody… please!
Lein turned.
Three men stood in front of him. With disgusting, smug grins, they were stripping a little girl. She was maybe five or six. She was crying, struggling with all her might, but their hands held her like iron.
— Not a bad little frame… Looks like the boy's been taking good care of her. A First-Level knight was asking around for a little girl just like this, — growled the bald, broad-shouldered bastard with a scar across his eye.
— For that General guy? — asked the skinny one with a crooked grin. His face was so twisted it looked like nature had given up halfway.
— Sold one last month to the Second Level. We're in, boss! — chimed the third, short and fat, with a disgusting voice like a fork scraping glass.
— Please… she's my sister… — the ten-year-old boy cried again, his voice cracking from tears.
The fat one kicked him in frustration. The boy's head struck the stone wall with a thud. Blood trickled slowly down the gray stone — thick and dark.
Two small boys lay unconscious on the ground.
One bled from the head, and the other had frozen in place, clutching his stomach.
— Kill them. They're in the way, — said the bald man calmly.
The little girl, now fully naked, sobbed uncontrollably, still struggling to escape her captors.
— Boss… can I… just once, before we sell her? — asked the fat one in a low, rasping voice.
— Why not, — the bald one replied, void of emotion.
Something inside Lein snapped. His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. His eyes burned with fire — a fury he hadn't felt in a long time.
«If I turn away now… how am I any different from the rest of the filth? Can't I, just once, do what I actually want?»
He dropped his backpack.
When one of the thugs raised a sharp stone, ready to finish off the boys, Lein shouted:
— Hey, you!
The man froze.
All three turned almost at once.
Almost everyone nearby now stared at Lein. None of them moved to help.
«Cowards.»
— I'll count to three, — he said firmly. — If you're not gone by then, I'll kill you. That's a promise.
The thugs burst out laughing.
— You? Kill us? Alone? — one of them scoffed. — Go on, kid. You're dressed too nicely. We don't want trouble. Though… maybe we'll ransom you instead. I'll count to three.
Lein smirked.
— Is that so? Then go ahead. Attack. I'd love to see what you can do.
— You asked for it! Boys, let's—
He didn't finish the sentence. A blade pierced through his throat.
The other two didn't have time to react — in the same second, a black silhouette beheaded them both.
— Lein... you're making trouble for me again, — came a familiar voice.
Lein looked up in surprise.
— Will?
Will stepped out of the shadows and approached.
— I had orders from the king — identify the general who's been acting suspiciously on the Third Level. We almost had enough proof on Vistas. But you… you ruined it.
— So you were just going to watch while they killed the boys and raped the girl?! — Lein snapped.
Will exhaled wearily.
— Lein… This wasn't the first time. To stop it for good, I had to be patient. I had to…
Lein turned sharply, grabbed his bag, and walked away.
As he left, he stopped without turning around.
— I'm disappointed in you, Will.
Will remained still. Silent.
Lein didn't see it, but Will's hands trembled — clenched into fists.
— So am I... — he whispered, watching Lein disappear into the darkness.
Lein passed through the second gate inspection without issue. Once inside, he turned left and entered one of the buildings.
He exited with an empty backpack and a bleeding hand.
Without any emotion, he continued walking — in search of the next place.
In another building, he bought spices and several types of tea. One of the shopkeepers mentioned it was the last batch. Tea was now in short supply.
Outside, children played heroes, waving wooden sticks, shouting and laughing.
«Spent around 450 Dams on tea and spices. Got 500 from the fangs and pelts. My balance: 120 Dams.»
Lein tried not to think about the incident.
But trying wasn't enough.
He was irritated.
Lein left the Second Level.
Then the First.
Will never appeared. The bodies of the dead thugs had vanished. Only bloodstains remained.
The children had probably run off to another part of the city.
Lein didn't dwell on it.
He left the Third Level. Exited the city.
Headed toward the lake.
The road was long. He thought deeply as he walked home.
And at some point, he came to a simple, brutal realization:
Power decides everything.
If Will hadn't been there, he would've died. Three adult men against a boy — he never stood a chance.
But even so, he didn't regret it.
He had done what his heart told him. And even if he had to die — he would've done it again.
Until his heart changed.
---
Descending the creaky wooden stairs, Lein immediately saw Raine — seated in his usual pose, legs crossed, like a statue lost in eternal silence. His breathing was steady, his face serene, like a sleeping elder at peace in a dying world.
— Old man, — Lein muttered, holding a final cup of tea — the brew smelled bitter and warm. — This is the last batch. I doubt you'll last till next winter.
Raine slowly opened his eyes and looked at him with a cold sternness, like an ancient idol just awakened.
— Bastard. Since when did your tongue rot so badly?
Lein smirked and stepped closer.
— So? Shall we begin the training?
The old man sighed. The day he had delayed for so long had finally come. Lein's body — not perfect, but flexible, enduring, and angry enough to wield a sword.
— Of course, — he said. — But first, tell me: what is the essence of battle?
Lein frowned, thought for a moment, and then exhaled uncertainly:
— Killing?
Raine laughed, a sound filled not just with approval, but with an old disdain for youthful innocence. He raised a thumb.
— Correct. Battle means death. Either you or them. If you fight with pity or hesitation, you're exposing yourself. Killing isn't the goal — it's the necessity. Remember that. Now… listen closely.
He straightened his back. His voice grew firmer, ringing with a strange, bell-like seriousness.
— Swordmasters... we don't just swing blades. We use will. Human will. This isn't some pretty metaphor. It's the foundation.
Lein sat down, not taking his eyes off the old man.
— The soul — it's the source. It holds infinite potential. You can grow it, elevate it… or let it decay. The monsters you'll face when you leave here — most of them were once human. But they chose to fall. Sold themselves for a mark, for rage, for pain. And became what they are now: monsters.
— And us?
— We take a different path. Narrow and thorny. We create a soul-core. A concentration of will, spirit, essence. Only one core. A second one would tear the soul apart from within.
— And monsters?
— They're not human. They can carry up to eight cores. Each one is another step down the ladder of corruption. Each makes them stronger… and further from humanity.
— So to become a swordmaster, I have to create my own core?
— Yes. Without a teacher — nearly impossible. It's too delicate a process. But the concept is simple: you gather your essence into one, form a core… and then grow it.
— What are the stages? — Lein asked with interest.
— There are eight. Each unlocks new depths of strength. Listen:
1. Beyonder — the beginning of your path. You gain a special power in this stage, but that's for later.
2. Awakened
3. Ascended
4. Saint
5. Sacred
6. Nephilim
7. Angel
8. God
— Gods among men... — Lein whispered.
— Theoretically, yes, — Raine chuckled. — In practice — don't count on living that long.
— What about monsters? Same thing?
— They also have eight ranks. But theirs is a downward spiral. Listen and remember:
1. Beyonder
2. Ancient
3. Twisted
4. Corrupted
5. Doomed
6. Defiled
7. Tyrant
8. Unholy
Lein squinted.
— Who came up with this? It's a nightmare to remember! Why not just call them level one, level two…?
Raine merely nodded with a tired smile.
— I thought the same. Eventually, you get used to it.
— And monster cores?
— Each of them can have up to eight cores. Every core is another step in their power. And each has a name. We call this their Class. Memorize:
1. Beast
2. Monster
3. Abomination
4. Fallen
5. Demon
6. Devil
7. Horror
8. Nightmare
— No... not this too, — Lein jumped up, holding his head. — This isn't training! This is torture! Who sat down and made up all these names?!
— Someone with too much drama and way too much free time, — Raine yawned and pointed at the mattress. — That's enough for today. You came late anyway. Go sleep.
Lein gritted his teeth, glanced at his notes, and sighed heavily. It all felt insane, but he had no choice. He lay down, wrapped himself in a thin blanket, and began reciting the names in his head. They sounded like spells... or curses.
«So, from what I understand: I create a core and become a Beyonder¹. Then I have to raise my core's rank to become an Awakened². Monsters too, probably — just different names. And they can have more than one core. And even that has its own naming system. Soul rank is the core's level, and the number of cores is the Class. Basically, if I ignore the names — it all makes sense.»
Lein turned over and thought:
«Feels like I forgot something…»
Then it hit him: Raine didn't teach him any swordsmanship again!
He exhaled through clenched teeth.
— Damn it. I'll study tomorrow. I'm too tired today. And in a foul mood.