For those who reside in the outer regions of Aleria, the day of bestowal is what determines their destiny.It is the holy day of the Goddess. The day that allows those of age to step forward and receive her blessing, to embark on the path that she has chosen for them. To receive their Classification, which dictates their strength and ability. For those people, the holy day of bestowal represents fate itself.For Dante, it represents salvation.Years have past since he found himself abandoned without memories. Years of hunger, ostracization, and solitude on the streets of Alazel without any hope of reprieve. Of entrapment at the hands of the creatures that roamed the wilds beyond the city walls that made leaving impossible.Now, there is a chance for everything to change.In a cruel world where power could be gained through slaughter, strength meant everything. For Dante, that meant that the last his hopes lay in the Goddess’ blessing. A combat Classification would be a lifeline, a way for him to escape the hell he had been living in. Anything else would only mean death.

A town put to the sword. The young forcibly recruited. An old man out for revenge.After his town is put to the sword and the children are taken to replace the fallen, an old man is out for revenge. He’s ready to fail at the most difficult challenge in the world: cultivation.Too corrupted to even take the first steps, the sly old elder simply agreed with those who told him that it was impossible. Then he quietly ignored them, rubbed his hands together, and started anyway. He had always failed in what he did: he lost his way from the academy, his command was devastated by a Mage, he lost his town, and now his last hopes for the future had been stolen by a group of raiders. The only thing that had never failed him was his sharp mind and philosophy. He would cultivate... no matter what it cost him.A lifetime of failure can dull and dampen a soul. A reason to live, a goal, can change that in an instant. It is always darkest just before the dawn.