The Path of Heroes

The world spun around me, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that left me disoriented and breathless. I could feel the weight of my body, the pull of gravity, the rush of wind against my skin—but none of it made sense. Just moments ago, I had been standing in the throne room of Eldoria, my uncle and aunt lying dead at my feet, the stench of blood thick in the air. But now…

Now, everything was different.

I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my mind. When my vision finally settled, I found myself standing in a vast, open field, the grass beneath my feet swaying gently in a breeze that carried the scent of wildflowers. The sky above was a perfect, cloudless blue, the sun warm on my face. It was a scene straight out of a dream, idyllic and peaceful—but something was off. Something was very, very wrong.

I looked down at my hands, turning them over as if to confirm that they were still mine. They were—but there was something different about them, something I couldn't quite place. The lines of my palms, the feel of my skin, the way my muscles moved—it was all familiar, yet foreign at the same time.

"What the…?" I muttered under my breath, taking a cautious step forward. The ground felt solid beneath my feet, the sensation of walking just as real as it had been in the throne room. But this wasn't the throne room. This wasn't Eldoria. This wasn't even the real world.

This was The Path of Heroes.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me reeling. The Path of Heroes—the game I had spent countless hours playing, the game that had consumed so much of my free time, the game that had become an escape from the drudgery of university life. But how could I be here? How could I really be here, in this world that was supposed to be nothing more than lines of code, pixels on a screen?

I took another step, then another, the reality of my situation sinking in with every movement. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't some kind of hallucination. I was really here, standing in the world of The Path of Heroes, and it was more real than I had ever imagined.

But that wasn't all. Memories flooded my mind, memories of not just one life, but three. I remembered everything—my life as Darius Caelum, born in the Village of Heroes, my life as Eldric Valen, the prince of Eldoria, and my life as Darius Caelum, the university student who loved nothing more than to lose himself in the world of The Path of Heroes. It was all there, jumbled together in a chaotic mess that left my head spinning.

"How… how is this possible?" I whispered, staring at the horizon as if the answers might be hidden there. But there were no answers, only more questions.

I reached up to my chest, half-expecting to feel the familiar weight of the Tablet Grimoire—the artifact that had connected me to the powers of Gilgamesh. But it wasn't there. Instead, I felt a different kind of presence, something deeper, more ingrained in my very being. It was the game's system, the framework that had governed my every action within The Path of Heroes—but now it was part of me, woven into the fabric of my existence.

My heart pounded in my chest as I forced myself to focus, to take stock of the situation. If I was really inside the game, then there had to be a way to access the system. There had to be a way to understand what was happening to me.

I closed my eyes and concentrated, reaching out with my mind, searching for the familiar interface that I had used so many times before. For a moment, nothing happened, and panic flared in my chest. But then, just as I was about to give up, a faint, glowing icon appeared in the corner of my vision.

A system interface.

I reached out mentally, and the icon expanded into a full display, filling my vision with a transparent screen that hovered in front of me. The layout was familiar, almost comforting in its simplicity. It was the same interface I had used in the game, but now it felt more tangible, more connected to my very essence.

Character Status:

Name: Darius Caelum

Class: Warrior

Level: 1

HP: 100/100

MP: 50/50

Strength: 10

Agility: 7

Endurance: 9

Intelligence: 5

Luck: 4

Skills: Basic Swordsmanship (Passive), Shield Block (Active), War Cry (Active)

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the screen, the information sinking in. This was my character—my very first character, the one I had created when I first started playing The Path of Heroes. A Warrior, Level 1, with the most basic of stats and skills. It was almost laughable, looking at it now, after all the time I had spent leveling up other characters, unlocking powerful abilities, and acquiring legendary weapons.

But this was different. This wasn't just a game anymore. This was my reality.

I reached out and scrolled through the interface, my fingers moving through the air as if I were still holding a controller. The system responded to my touch, the menus shifting and expanding as I navigated through them. It was all there—my inventory, my quest log, my map of the world. Everything I had come to know so well, but now it felt more real, more consequential.

And then, I saw it—my available character slots. There were several, each one representing a different class, a different build I had experimented with over the years. A Mage, a Rogue, a Paladin, a Ranger—each one carefully crafted and leveled up, each one with its own strengths and weaknesses.

But they were all locked.

My heart sank as I realized what this meant. I was starting from scratch. All those hours, all that progress—it was gone. I was back at Level 1, with nothing but the most basic of skills and equipment.

"Great," I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just great."

But as I stared at the interface, a new thought occurred to me. This wasn't just the game anymore. This was real. Which meant that if I leveled up, if I gained strength, it wouldn't just be a number on a screen. It would be real power—power that could help me survive, power that could help me protect the people I cared about.

I took a deep breath, the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders. This was it. This was my chance. I had been stuck at Copper-level aura for so long, unable to break through, unable to become the hero I was supposed to be. But now, with the system at my fingertips, with the game's mechanics integrated into my very being, I had a way forward. I had a path to follow.

And it started here, with this Level 1 Warrior.

I glanced around, taking in my surroundings with new eyes. The field stretched out before me, a vast expanse of green that seemed to go on forever. In the distance, I could see the outlines of mountains, their peaks shrouded in mist. To my left, a dense forest loomed, its trees tall and ancient, their branches casting long shadows on the ground. And to my right, a river wound its way through the landscape, its waters sparkling in the sunlight.

It was beautiful, but it was also dangerous. I knew that from experience. The world of The Path of Heroes was filled with monsters, bandits, and other threats, and at Level 1, I was vulnerable. I needed to find a safe place, somewhere I could gather my thoughts and plan my next move.

I opened the map, hoping to get my bearings. The screen expanded, showing me a detailed view of the surrounding area. My starting location was marked with a small, glowing dot, and I could see several nearby points of interest—villages, dungeons, and even a few quest markers.

One of the villages caught my eye, not far from where I was standing. It was a small, unnamed settlement, probably one of the early-game locations where new players could find basic supplies and low-level quests. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

I set the village as my destination and closed the map. The interface faded from view, leaving me once again in the peaceful, sunlit field. But now, I had a purpose. I had a goal.

I started walking, my feet moving with a confidence that surprised even me. The world around me felt so real, so solid, and yet there was a familiarity to it, a sense of belonging that I hadn't felt in a long time. This was my world now, and I was going to make the most of it.

As I walked, I couldn't help but think about the other characters I had created over the years. The Mage, with her powerful spells and devastating AoE attacks. The Rogue, with his stealth and precision, able to take down enemies before they even knew he was there. The Paladin, a beacon of light and justice, his shield unbreakable, his sword unstoppable. Each one had been a part of me, a different aspect of my personality, my skills, my desires.

But now, they were locked away, inaccessible. I was left with the Warrior, the most basic of classes, the one I had started with when I first began playing the game. It was almost poetic, in a way.

But now, they were locked away, inaccessible. I was left with the Warrior, the most basic of classes, the one I had started with when I first began playing the game. It was almost poetic, in a way. I was starting over, beginning from the very foundation of what it meant to be a hero in this world. It felt strangely appropriate, as if this new beginning was a test—a chance to prove myself, not just as Darius Caelum or Eldric Valen, but as both. As all of the lives I had lived and remembered.

I guess that's fine as well.

It means it's a new beginning.