New titles-
Masochist
Endured and embraced suffering beyond normal limits.
- Select one stat to decrease by 2% and another to increase by 3%.
I stared at the new title and grimaced. I didn’t seek out pain for its own sake. When I first tried to create the skill, it felt like the system had forced me to relive the end of my previous life—memories I hadn't asked to remember. That wasn’t what I’d envisioned at all.
But once the skill was made, once I had paid the price for it, there was no turning back. I had no choice but to accept it. To use it. Power was all that mattered now, and this was the most efficient way to claim it.
That said, I couldn’t deny my satisfaction with Woundreaver. Maybe, on some level, I had accepted the pain. Embraced it.
Either way, the stat trade-off was an interesting choice, but one that could wait. Because another title had appeared.
Craftsman Benefactor
You paid the price and got your reward.
- +10 Fortitude
- +10 Mind
- -10 Vitality
What the absolute fuck was this? I used my skill and got punished for it? Sure, technically it was a buff, but I’d lost part of my life for it. My body still remembered the agony I'd put it through—an echo of pain lingering in my arm as if to remind me of the cost.
I I pushed myself to my feet and started pacing. My thoughts tangled, frustration simmering beneath my skin. Titles were supposed to be a reward, a sign of progress, not something that made me feel like I'd been robbed. But this? This was a trade, and not one I had agreed to.
I exhaled sharply, clenching and unclenching my fists. I had lost something. Something I hadn’t wanted to give.
But if I couldn’t stop the loss, I could at least decide how it shaped me.
I stared at the system’s demand. A stat to weaken, a stat to strengthen. The choice felt heavier than it should have. This wasn’t just numbers shifting on a screen—it was my body, my future. The price of survival.
If I wasn’t willing to lose my life, then I would take it back.
Vitality. +3%.
Veil. -2%. A stat I hadn’t even used yet.
The decision settled into place like the locking of a weapon’s chamber.
My status screen now read:
Name: Sylas Orread
Race: Painborn Revenant
Specialization: 1E. Path of the Forsaken
Titles: One Against Many, Childkiller, Masochist, Craftsman Benefactor
Skills: Cloaked Appraisal, Freshen, Crimson Reconstitution, Quickstep, Painforged Armory
Level: 27E
Strength: 58
Dexterity: 58
Vitality: 60 (+3%)
Fortitude: 88
Veil: 58 (-2%)
Mind: 69
Instinct: 59
Torment: 130
Unspent Points: 0
Skill Points Available: -7
I was still the same level as when I had fought the group, but my stats now dwarfed my former self.
Everything had increased. Strength, endurance, even my instincts—it was as if I had been operating at a fraction of my potential before. Now, I could feel the difference in every part of my body, from the way my muscles tensed with ease to the sharpened edge of my awareness.
And with that clarity came an undeniable realization. I had been a fool.
Why hadn’t I done this sooner? In this world, raw strength wasn’t just an advantage—it was the difference between survival and annihilation. I needed more.
I turned toward Alyssa, who had been watching me patiently, waiting for me to work through my thoughts. I met her gaze and said, simply, “I need more strength. What can I do?”
Her smile remained unchanged, as if she had been expecting those very words. Without a word, she gestured toward the electric door—the one I had an active system quest for but had yet to pass through.
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“Pull out the document,” she said, “the one that states you are my student and I your teacher.”
I retrieved it quickly. My inventory was nearly empty, and despite having carried this document for so long, I had barely thought about it.
“Good. Now open the door with your own hands.”
I hesitated only for a moment before stepping forward. As soon as I neared the door, its defenses flared to life—crackling arcs of energy snapping across its surface. That same ominous sensation coiled in my chest, warning me to back away.
But I trusted Alyssa.
Without a second thought, I reached out and grasped the door.
The crackling arcs of energy leaped toward me, surging through the air like living tendrils, but before they could reach my flesh, the document in my hand flared bright. The parchment pulsed with an unnatural glow, turning into a lightning rod that absorbed the energy, drawing every last spark into itself.
It lasted only a moment.
Then, the door fell silent. The crackling hum of its defenses vanished, leaving behind nothing but the faint scent of ozone. I glanced down at the document in my grasp—once plain, now glowing a vivid lightning-blue, the edges shimmering with residual energy.
I didn’t hesitate. I pushed the door open and stepped through.
Ding!
System Quest Completed.
Congratulations.
It was like stepping into another world—or maybe out of one.
A second ago, I had been in the Colosseum, its vast, worn stone stretching into silence. Empty. Hollow. The only presence beside me was my teacher, the weight of our surroundings pressing down like the ghosts of a thousand past battles.
But now?
Now, I stood in the middle of a city.
The shift was instant, overwhelming. The quiet of the Colosseum was replaced by a rush of sound—the chatter of merchants, the calls of traders bartering over goods, the rhythmic pounding of metal from a nearby forge. People bustled past me, caught up in their own lives, their movements fluid and constant.
The air was thick with the scent of spice, smoke, and sweat, blending into something both foreign and strangely alive. Stalls lined the streets, overflowing with vibrant fabrics, exotic fruits, and gleaming weapons. The towering buildings were a mix of smooth stone and intricate carvings, energy-infused lanterns casting an ever-present glow over the streets, turning even the shadows into something warm and alive.
I took a step forward, my boots hitting solid, paved ground instead of rough Colosseum stone. The weight of the change settled over me, my pulse quickening.
Where the hell was I?
A group of armored warriors strode past me, their weapons humming with barely contained energy. A courier dashed by, weaving between the crowd with practiced ease, a satchel slung over his shoulder. Above, I caught glimpses of floating platforms, moving smoothly between massive structures, as if the city itself was layered in unseen power.
Alyssa stepped up beside me, her gaze dropping to the lightning-blue document in my hand. Her excitement was unmistakable, her grin sharp with satisfaction.
“The door is a test,” she said, turning the paper over in her hands. “You had to find a teacher and enter on your own power. Each person faces a different challenge—one that reflects their inner aura. Yours was electricity, I see.”
That made sense. I often thought about my pain as lightning, crackling through my veins, a constant current coiled tight, waiting to strike.
I met her gaze. “What does that mean for me?”
Alyssa’s smile didn’t fade. “It just means that you were able to conquer your fear.”
The city blurred around me, a kaleidoscope of energy and motion. Yet, despite our speed, no one paid us any mind. Not because they didn’t notice—but because so many others were running too.
People vaulted over railings, leapt across rooftops, and slid down sloped surfaces with practiced ease. The streets weren’t bound by simple walkways; instead, elevated paths, suspended bridges, and angled rooftops turned the entire city into a vast, interconnected web of movement. It was a place built not for the idle, but for those who pushed forward, who tested their limits with every step.
And with my stats, it wasn’t a problem.
If anything, it felt right.
I moved faster than I ever had before—faster than a bike in my old life, faster than my past self could have dreamed. Every motion was fluid, effortless, controlled, as if my body had been made for this. The wind roared past my ears, the ground vanishing beneath my feet as I launched from one ledge to the next.
This wasn’t just running.
This was flight without wings.
As we wove through the streets, the towering structures ahead became unmistakable. The school.
It was massive—an entire district of its own, stretching out in all directions. Towering spires, open fields, sprawling courtyards, and massive battlefield stages filled the space, each one occupied by students locked in combat, training, refining their craft.
The air here buzzed with intensity, a palpable force of ambition, competition, and sheer willpower.
Alyssa finally skidded to a stop at the edge of it all, turning back to me with a grin. "Welcome to your real training ground."
I stood there, taking it all in.
The sheer scale of the school was overwhelming—the towering spires, open training fields, and endless battlefield stages filled with students honing their craft. This wasn’t just a place of learning; it was a crucible, a forge where warriors were shaped, where legends were made.
This was where I would start making a name for myself.
Where I would become the leader Earth needed.
Alyssa stepped beside me, her usual grin in place but her tone carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.
“I am your teacher, but I specialize in a specific subject—finding your talents.” She gestured toward the students sparring in the distance, their movements sharp, deliberate, controlled. “I will tutor you in this class, but the rest of your time will be spent with other students and instructors. You’ll train, you’ll struggle, and you’ll learn. That’s how this place works.”
She turned back to me, a knowing glint in her eyes. “If you have questions, though, you can always come to me.”
Then, with a playful wink, she added, “I do give special treatment.”
Before I could respond, she gestured toward the entrance, where a long line of people stood waiting off to the side. “Go stand there and show them your document. That is your pass into the school. It will cover everything you need—lodging, food, training, equipment. Once you're situated, I suggest you rest for the day.”
Her eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “You’ll need your strength starting tomorrow.”
Without another word, she turned and took off running, disappearing into the ever-moving flow of the city.
I exhaled, glancing down at the lightning-blue document in my hand.
Then, with nothing else to do, I stepped forward and joined the line.