Despite calming down.

  It still gnawed at him. Frustration coiled tight in his chest like a beast refusing to be tamed. He had waited so long for this moment—his chance to know where he truly stood, to see his efforts recognized. But what he got instead was an undeniable mockery of everything he had endured.

  Because, after all, Kaiser’s kill record was anything but ordinary. It wasn’t the sheer volume of kills that made him stand out, but the quality of the creatures he’d slain. Monsters that would send most running for their lives. Foes that took cunning, strength, and endurance to defeat. And yet…

  Level 2? Cipher? — He doesn't know what Cipher is exactly, but it sounded as low as two.

  The absurdity of it would have been laughable if it weren’t so maddening. And above all, unfair!

  Hazie’s level—38, Cipher—confirmed the inaccuracy of his results. There was no need to test it. He knew without a doubt that he was stronger than her in almost every conceivable way. His senses were sharper; her movements seemed sluggish in comparison. He could bypass her reactions with ease, and outright severely injure her if he ever wishes.

  However, that doesn't mean she's that weak. In fact, Kaiser hesitated to deem himself fully above her.

  Despite her relative “slowness” in his eyes, Hazie moved with an elegance and precision that demanded respect. There was no wasted energy in her actions—no unnecessary flourishes. Every movement had purpose, as if she had honed herself to a razor’s edge, aspiring to perfection in every way possible devoid of flaws, therefore, eliminating unnecessary things. It somehow reminded him of his mentor fluidness, but with a distinct difference.

  Furthermore, Kaiser wasn’t fooled by her delicate appearance. Hazie was dangerous in her own right. She had undoubtedly been trained in various martial arts, weapons, and techniques. But what truly intrigued him wasn’t just her combat skills hidden beneath that pretty face—it was the thought of her other personas.

  This “Level 38 Cipher” was only one part of her. The weakest persona, and merely a fraction of her full potential. And yet, it was formidable enough to give him pause.

  'So what happens when the real Hazie comes out?'

  Kaiser couldn’t help but wonder. If all her incarnations merged into one being, pooling their monstrous traits into a single vessel, how powerful would she become? Or perhaps she could maintain her separated forms, outnumbering him while coordinating with terrifying precision.

  Suddenly, the confidence he felt moments ago wavered. If he and Hazie ever clashed at their full strength, the outcome would be far from certain because their strength is likely equal, with not much of a gap which would be closed by strategy, wit, and endurance. And in that arena, Kaiser wasn’t sure he could claim absolute victory.

  'Better not make an enemy of her.'

  Still, that wasn’t the issue now. The real problem lies with himself.

  His gaze flicked back to the glowing screen, the damning number taunting him.

  Level 2: (Cipher — 3 points)

  Not even a double digit.

  In any case, at least now, his theory was proven correct—his immortality came at a heavy price. Each time Kaiser died, he unknowingly leaked the accumulated Level he had worked so hard to earn through bloodshed. The realization hit him like a blow to the gut, a pang of regret swelling in his chest. All those reckless battles, all those moments he threw caution to the wind, had unknowingly wasted his efforts. The dire foes he’d slain, the near-impossible victories he’d achieved—all of it chipped away, undone by his casual disregard for his own survival.

  Lately, he had viewed death as nothing more than an inconvenience, a fleeting experience that carried no real consequences for someone like him except agonizing pains. He had walked into danger with a cavalier attitude, embracing the pain and finality of death only to rise again moments later, none the worse for wear. Dying wasn’t dreadful. It wasn’t even new anymore.

  But now, he understood how wrong he had been.

  But who could blame him? Obliviousness was an enemy of everyone, a silent thief that robbed even the wisest of their advantage. Much like a ruler drafting foolish regulations without ever grasping the true problem, Kaiser couldn’t have devised a solution to an issue he didn’t even know existed.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  It was almost laughable in its simplicity. He didn’t know dying was “wrong” because, for him, it never truly felt like an end. It was the ultimate understatement—a man who cheated death so often that its weight no longer mattered to him.

  But now, the weight was there, pressing down on him with suffocating clarity. Every death had cost him, not just pain or effort, but also progress. For the first time, Kaiser felt the sting of those countless losses in a way he never had before.

  'All this time...' he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. 'I’ve been running on a treadmill, thinking I was moving forward.'

  And the realization left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  At least now he knew— *dying was bad*, and his immortality was not something to abuse so recklessly. The discovery was disheartening, sure, but it wasn’t the end of the world. In hindsight, it was an understandable price for such a power. He could still die as many times as he wanted and walk away alive, though at the cost of weakening himself slightly with each fall.

  However, now his more confused. If he's real Level are two due to most of it leaking, then...

  Why

  Why did he still retain most of his strength despite being a mere Level 2?

  Before he could delve further into the thought, Hazie’s voice broke through his haze. Responding to his absentminded reply.

  “Nothing? Really? Judging by how pissed you are, it’s lower than mine, isn’t it? If I had to guess, your Level’s somewhere between twenty and thirty, right?”

  'No, far lower.'

  Kaiser didn’t answer, though his silence was response enough. Hazie giggled, her amusement bubbling over.

  “Hey, hey, Kai. Could you look at me again and casually say, ‘Let’s kill it,’ like you did earlier?” She mocked, her tone dripping with exaggerated indifference as she laughed even harder. But as the humor ebbed, her voice shifted to something more sober.

  “Anyway,” she said, her expression turning serious, “just thought I’d remind you—it’s not too late to back down. I’m fine with dying here if it comes to that. This isn’t my only life, you know. I’ve got four others left.” She smirked, smugness creeping into her tone as she continued. “So, a word of advice—Don’t measure yourself against me. You’re better off keeping a safe distance from my league.”

  Unfortunately for her, she had no idea who she was talking to.

  Kai scratched the back of his head, hiding a grin. 'If only she knew...'

  Little did Hazie realize, Kaiser had already burned through the five lives she held so proudly, to the point he lost count. She's better off bragging to mortals about her disposable lifes.

  Shaking his head, he changed the subject. “Can you tell me more about these points?”

  Hazie went silent, then sighed, crossing her arms. “There you go again, not listening. That’ll be the end of you someday.” She gave him a pointed look but quickly relented. “Well, I doubt you’ll change your mind, so fine. About the points, huh? Alright, listen up.”

  She leaned back, her tone shifting into a blend of lecturer and conspirator.

  “We haven’t nailed down every detail about how points work, but based on our experiments and rough estimates, here’s what we’ve pieced together. Think of it this way: an infant is probably Level 0, right? No points, because an infant hasn’t killed anything. Makes sense so far?”

  Kai nodded, his focus sharp.

  “As the child grows and starts, say, squashing bugs, they’d begin collecting points. Tiny increments, though—something like 0.001 per bug, maybe. The bigger and more significant the kill, the more points you get. So, stepping up from bugs to something like a dog, then a wolf, or even a bear? Those would give much higher values. Still with me?”

  “Yeah,” Kai said, his brows furrowing in thought.

  “Good. Now, here’s the important part—an average adult human life? That’s roughly one point.”

  She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in before continuing. “So, if your points are, say, above thirty... You get what I mean.” Her voice trailed off, leaving the darker implications unspoken.

  Kaiser understood perfectly, though. The scale of death and bloodshed required to rise through the ranks suddenly felt much more tangible—and far more haunting. For acquiring thirty points is relatively equal to killing thirty people.

  Hazie reached for her water, her tone lightening just a fraction as she added, “By the way, check the description for Cipher. It'll be enlightening.”

  Kai glanced back at the screen, her words turning over in his mind.

  That explanation had been helpful, expanding Kaiser’s understanding of what points were and how they governed the system. The summary was clear: kill to ascend. The stronger the foe, the higher the reward. Points were nothing more than the measure of bloodshed—a grim but simple equation.

  However, it didn’t answer the lingering question gnawing at him.

  Why hasn’t his strength significantly diminished, even after losing so many points?

  The truth was, the decrease had been so marginal it escaped his notice entirely. That's why it took him so long to realize. Coupled with the fact that his power only seemed to grow stronger over time, creating the illusion of constant improvement. But now he realized it was just that—an illusion.

  Despite his reckless deaths, his actual accumulated points had dropped to a dangerously low level, only partially restored by the black-rock barnacles he'd recently slain.

  'This doesn’t make sense,'

  If his strength wasn’t entirely tied to his level, then what was fueling him?

  There had to be another source. Some exterior force beyond leveling. And Kaiser could only think of one possibility.

  The Sacred Bond he’d formed with Zara.

  'It has to be that,' he reasoned, a chill of realization creeping over him.

  His theory found immediate validation when his eyes caught the line of text in his interface. Among the sparse information, Zara’s name was listed, along with the name of his relic.

  Name: Kaiser

  Status: Player

  Level: 2 (Cipher — 3 points)

  Bond: [Zara]

  Relic: [Windslayer]

  If the interface was consistent, every term had an attached description. With a bit of focus, Kaiser could uncover details about the Sacred Bond, Zara herself, the skills she had bestowed upon him, and even Windslayer’s traits—all of which had been vague until now, will no longer be a mystery once he received glimpses of their descriptions.

  But first, he followed Hazie’s suggestion. He focused on Cipher.

  Immediately, the term expanded into a series of glowing lines, providing intel on the Players’ hierarchy within the Shattered Realms.

  But before he could dive into the details, though, a distant thud rumbled through the air, the sound deep and earth-shaking, like a boulder falling from the sky.

  The ground beneath them trembled slightly, enough to force Hazie to sense it as well. She sighed, her gaze shifting toward the horizon outside.

  “It’s here,” she muttered under her breath, the words more resigned than fearful.

  Kaiser frowned, still processing the information on his interface. “What’s here?”

  Hazie turned to him, her usual playful demeanor replaced by weary seriousness.

  "It took longer than I expected to catch up," Hazie remarked, her voice unusually calm as

  "Well, Kaiser, if you were planning to back out... now would be the time."

  She paused, tilting her head as though reconsidering.

  "Actually." Her smirk widened, though her tone carried a sharp edge of inevitability. "It’s already too late for that."

  Kaiser narrowed his eyes, the glow of his interface flickering in his peripheral vision.

  Whatever was coming, they both knew there was no turning back.