Hollow Ascension

Chapter 1: The Shattered Rebirth

Kael's eyes snapped open, his breath caught in his throat. It was like surfacing after drowning, lungs burning for air. His fingers dug into the coarse fabric beneath him, his heart pounding in his ears. He lay still, disoriented, staring up at a wooden ceiling that spun and wavered in his blurred vision.

The scent of smoke and ale assaulted his senses, mingled with the acrid tang of sweat and blood. Groaning, Kael sat up, blinking rapidly to clear the haze. The room around him slowly came into focus—a wide, bustling hall filled with wooden tables and benches. Men and women in armor clustered around in groups, laughing, shouting, and arguing. Some were nursing mugs of drink; others sharpened weapons or tended to wounds.

"Where... where am I?" Kael muttered, his voice a hoarse rasp. He forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath, his mind racing to piece together the last thing he remembered.

His memory was a jumbled mess. An explosion—fire tearing through a warehouse, shouts, then darkness. He had died. Kael's eyes widened, and he clenched his fists, feeling the strain of unfamiliar muscles. The body he was in was not his own. He was no longer the seasoned, cold-blooded man who had spent his life maneuvering through the criminal underworld with ruthlessness and precision.

A surge of panic threatened to overtake him, but he suppressed it, instinctively reaching for the calm, analytical mindset that had seen him through countless life-and-death situations. First things first: assess the situation.

His eyes darted around the hall, absorbing details. This was a large room, wooden walls lined with rough-hewn shelves stacked with jars, scrolls, and weapons. It looked like a tavern or... a guildhall? Yes, that was it. He caught sight of a large crest painted on the far wall—a silver sword crossed with a black shield. Adventurers' Guild. The name surfaced in his mind like a distant echo.

"Alright, so I'm in some kind of guild." He muttered to himself, testing the words on his tongue. His voice was different—higher and softer than the gravelly tone he was used to. And his body... Kael grimaced as he flexed his fingers and arms. Weak. There was barely any strength in his limbs, like a scholar who had never lifted more than a book.

"What in the world...?" He looked down at himself, noting the simple, threadbare tunic and trousers he wore. No armor, no weapons, not even a dagger. Kael ran a hand through his hair, feeling the unfamiliar length and texture. This body was young, fragile, and untrained.

A sudden jolt of pain shot through his head, making him gasp. [Welcome, Kael. You have been granted access to the System.] The words blazed across his mind, leaving him stunned.

"What the—?" He recoiled, nearly toppling off the bench. His vision darkened momentarily, and then a translucent interface blinked into view before his eyes.

[Current Status: Weak (Level 1)]

[Physical Strength: Low]

[Magical Affinity: None]

[Skills: None]

A cold, mocking laugh bubbled up in Kael's throat. "This is some kind of sick joke." He was being ranked and measured by some unseen force as if he were in a game or a story.

His eyes flickered over the words, the strange interface hovering in his vision. The 'System'? His mind churned as he processed the information, squashing down the wave of disbelief and anger threatening to rise. This wasn't the time to indulge in emotion. If this was his reality now, he needed to understand and use it.

"Alright, System," Kael muttered under his breath, squinting at the interface. "Show me more."

The screen blinked, shifting to display a new set of information.

[First Contract Available: Cause Disorder Within the Adventurer Guild to Unlock Stealth Ability.]

His heart skipped a beat. A contract? What did that mean? He scanned the words, reading them over and over. It seemed like a directive, a task he needed to complete. And in return, he would gain a power—stealth.

Kael's eyes narrowed. Whoever or whatever had brought him here had given him a goal. Cause disorder? A slow, cold smile spread across his face. If this 'System' wanted chaos, it had chosen the right man for the job. But he would need to be careful. He glanced around the room again, taking in the adventurers, their armor, and weapons gleaming in the dim torchlight. He was in enemy territory, and if he was going to survive in this world, he needed to adapt quickly.

"Think, Kael," he whispered to himself, his mind already calculating. The body he inhabited was weak, but weakness could be a mask, a tool. If he played the role of a powerless nobody, he could move unnoticed, gather information, and strike when the time was right.

A sharp, rough voice broke through his thoughts. "Hey, you!" A man approached, burly and towering, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "You're blocking the way, kid."

Kael looked up, instinctively assessing the threat. The man was large, with a thick beard and a leather breastplate stained from past battles. His hand rested on the hilt of a short sword, fingers tapping impatiently.

"Sorry," Kael replied, making his voice soft and unsure. He rose awkwardly from the bench, stumbling a bit for effect. The man snorted, shaking his head as he shoved past.

Kael's eyes followed him, the gears in his mind turning. Disorder. It was an interesting proposition. The guildhall was already a hive of noise and activity, a powder keg of clashing personalities and ambitions. It wouldn't take much to light a fuse.

He moved carefully, picking his way through the crowd toward the large entrance doors. He needed more information before he made his move. If this 'System' was willing to grant him abilities in exchange for chaos, then he would oblige—but on his terms.

As he stepped outside, the chill night air washed over him, clearing his mind. He stood on the guild's stone steps, staring out into the city beyond. Torches flickered along the streets, casting long shadows on the cobblestone paths. It was a world he did not know, but one he intended to master.

Kael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. This body might be weak, and this world unfamiliar, but he was still Kael. The man who had clawed his way to power in his previous life. He opened his eyes, determination blazing within them.

"Alright, then," he murmured, his voice steady. "Let's begin."

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