Levelon Lore

The Culling

In 2023, the Levelite Organization opened its doors to a new generation of recruits. Young people from across the Central Continent, mana-compatible and willing to risk everything, arrived at the training center with a single goal: to become hunters.

What awaited them became known as The Culling.

Three years of brutal training, designed not merely to teach, but to eliminate. Unlike previous programs, The Culling had no minimum passing quota. The organization did not need quantity; it needed quality. Each phase eliminated more candidates: physical endurance tests, synchronization with Aksha, mana control, mental stability under extreme conditions, and real combat against creatures of the new world. Many gave up. Many failed. Some did not return.

Those who survived the full three years were no longer the same young people who had arrived in 2023. They were hunters—still without the official title, but already forged by the most grueling process Levelite had ever imposed on a generation.

In 2026, The Culling came to an end. The survivors received their official admission into the organization.

But the night that followed was not one of celebration.

The First Breach

Three years of silence. Then, on a night of the blood moon, all the mana crystals in the eastern camp began to glow. Not shatter. Glow. A golden light coming not from the Continent, but from below. From something impossibly ancient.

The veterans had already left. All that remained were the hunters who had just survived The Culling.

The camp elder pressed her hand against the earth.

"Aksha is dreaming. And whatever she is dreaming of is coming this way."

What followed was chaos.

The blood moon in the sky was no ordinary phenomenon. The organization's oldest records had already documented it: nights when the moon took on an intense red hue and the Tree of Aksha lost control over the flow of mana emanating from its roots. Without control, this flow became corrupted, and from the corruption, monsters were born—formless creatures made from Aksha's own twisted essence, endlessly surging from the roots that spread across the camp's soil and the surrounding cities.

The new hunters, admitted mere hours ago, were thrown into their first real mission without warning, without additional preparation, and without the veterans by their side.

The defense lasted the entire night.

Waves of corrupted creatures attacked the camp and nearby cities. The hunters held the perimeter using everything they had learned in their three years of training, but the monsters would not stop. As long as Aksha remained in a state of corruption, the blood moon would continue to feed the twisted flow, and the creatures would keep coming.

That was when the elves intervened.

Ancestral scholars of Aksha, possessing a connection to the tree that humans were still learning to comprehend, the elves worked alongside the hunters to stabilize the flow of mana in the corrupted roots. It was a slow, delicate, and dangerous process, done while the creatures continued to attack all around them.

The situation was being brought under control when it appeared.

From the deepest, most corrupted roots in the soil, a colossal werewolf took form. It was neither flesh nor bone: it was root—black, pulsating root, twisted upon itself into a bestial shape that moved with a speed that shouldn't be possible for something of its size. It was the physical manifestation of the peak of Aksha's corruption; everything that had been twisted that night concentrated into a single creature.

The hunters united.

The battle was long. The creature regenerated from the very roots in the ground, rendering any superficial damage useless. It was during the battle that they identified its weak point: a pulsating core in the center of the creature's chest, hidden among the intertwined roots, from which all the corrupted energy keeping it alive emanated.

Through a collective effort, the hunters carved a path through the creature's defenses and destroyed the core.

The blood moon faded.

Aksha, slowly, began to breathe again.

The first great crisis of the new generation of hunters had ended. And with it, a truth was etched into the memories of all who survived that night: blood moon nights are not anomalies. They are a cycle. And they will return as long as we do nothing about it.

The Expedition

Twenty-four years after the Day of Assimilation, humanity has yet to set foot on the Exiled Continent.

Not for lack of courage. But for lack of survivors who returned to tell the tale.

The first expedition attempts took place in the early years of the New Era, when Levelite was still an improvised alliance of survivors. None of them returned with useful information. Some did not return at all. Over time, the organization focused its efforts on the Central Continent, containing monsters, rebuilding civilization, and studying Greyspire. The Exiled Continent remained a postponed promise.

Now, for the first time, Levelite is ready to try again.

And for the first time, it is the new generation who will make the attempt.

Days after the end of the First Breach, the survivors of The Culling received what three years of brutal training and a night defending the camp against creatures of corrupted Aksha finally guaranteed them: the Hunter Card. A document issued by the Levelite Organization that represents much more than mere identification. It is an authorization. The official recognition that this individual is capable of facing what lies beyond the safe borders of the Central Continent. With it, the two most dangerous and fascinating regions of the new world become accessible: Greyspire and the Exiled Continent.

For most hunters, an entire lifetime passes without visiting both in the same year.

For this generation, the wait lasted less than a week.

Levelite selected them to join the inaugural expedition of the New Era toward the Exiled Continent. A two-month voyage across the ocean that separates the two continents—an ocean that humanity stopped crossing decades ago and which, since the Assimilation, has never been the same.

No one knows exactly what changed within it. They only know that it changed.

The voyage is not a mission of conquest. There is no objective to colonize, dominate, or claim territory. The goal is simple, yet immense: to arrive. To map the route. To identify what exists between here and there. And to return.

But between departure and arrival lies an entire ocean. With islands that were not on the old maps. With creatures that no bestiary has ever recorded. With phenomena that the mana of the new world created without asking anyone's permission.

The hunters are young. Some are still processing what The Culling was. Others are still processing the First Breach. None of them expected that their first real mission after graduation would be crossing the largest ocean in the world in a wooden ship, heading toward a continent that devours expeditions.

But that is exactly why they were chosen.

The Expedition begins with a ceremony and ends with an unknown horizon. In between, two months of open sea, discovery, danger, and the inevitably human moments that happen when a group of young people spends too much time on a boat during the summer. Happy, terrifying, and bizarre moments await these young hunters.

The Exiled Continent is waiting.