The Awakening Error - The system's Greatest Error

The underground arena was real.

Ethan knew it. He had heard those men speak of it near the lake, their voices low, careful—like they were discussing something forbidden. That only made him more certain: this place wasn't just some street brawl. It was something bigger.

But where was it?

He had only caught bits and pieces of their conversation—mentions of a moving location, a new hideout—but nothing concrete. He had no map, no guide, just a name that kept echoing in his mind.

The Bloodstained Stage.

That was what they had called it.

For the next few days, Ethan searched.

He wandered through the outskirts of villages, keeping his ears open, watching how certain men moved in the streets—those with the scars of fighters, with the hardened eyes of survivors.

But no one spoke of it openly.

It was frustrating. He had left home determined to grow stronger, determined to prove himself, but he had hit another wall.

Doubt began to creep in. Had he misheard? Had they been lying? Was it just a rumor?

No. He refused to believe that.

One evening, exhausted and sore from both training and walking aimlessly, Ethan found himself sitting at the edge of a run-down trading outpost. It was a place where merchants and travelers passed through, where people whispered secrets in the dark.

And that's when he saw him.

The boy wasn't much older than Ethan, but he carried himself like someone who had already lived a hard life. His clothes were worn, but his boots were sturdy. His dark hair was messy, and his lean frame suggested hunger, yet his eyes burned with the same determination Ethan felt in himself.

The boy was speaking with a man near one of the stalls, his voice low but urgent. Ethan couldn't hear everything, but he caught enough.

"…looking for the fights. I've got what it takes."

Ethan's breath caught.

He wasn't the only one searching.

For a moment, he hesitated. Approaching strangers wasn't safe. He had no idea who this boy was, what kind of person he might be. But right now, he had no better leads.

Taking a breath, Ethan made his choice.

As the boy turned away from the merchant, clearly frustrated, Ethan stepped forward.

"You're looking for the arena too?"

The boy's eyes snapped to him, sharp and assessing.

A pause. Then, cautiously, he replied, "Maybe. Who's asking?"

Ethan kept his expression steady. "Someone with the same goal."**

For a moment, neither spoke. Then, the boy smirked.

"Guess that makes two of us, then."

A New Ally

His name was Ronan.

Like Ethan, he had left home in search of something more.

"I don't have a noble name or some great bloodline," Ronan admitted as they walked through the outskirts of the outpost. "But I've got fists, and I know how to use them. If the arena's as big as the rumors say, then it's my chance to rise."

Ethan understood that feeling all too well.

They compared what little they knew. Ronan had picked up rumors in different places—mentions of fighters vanishing for months and returning with scars, whispers of strange betting rings in hidden corners of the city.

Together, they began putting the pieces together.

They followed trails of information, watching for men who carried themselves like warriors, listening for coded phrases exchanged in hushed voices.

Days passed. The search was grueling.

But then—they found it.

A merchant, drunk and careless, let slip a name. An abandoned mine on the outskirts of the city.

Ronan grinned. "That's it. That's gotta be it."

Ethan felt the weight of the moment settle over him.

The Bloodstained Stage was real.

And now, they were going to see it with their own eyes.