Chapter 3: The First Execution
The air in the central sanctum had undergone a violent chemical shift. The heavy, suffocating pressure of the Abyssal Lord—a weight that usually crushed the lungs of any F-Ranker until they collapsed in worship—was no longer the dominant force in the room. Instead, a cold, predatory chill was radiating from the center of the cavern. It was a vacuum of emotion, a crystalline stillness that felt more dangerous than the demon's heat.
It was Kaelen.
He stood perfectly still, his new body feeling alien yet deeply, fundamentally correct. For nineteen years, he had lived inside a "broken" shell. Every movement had been a struggle; every breath had been a reminder of his inadequacy. His muscles had always felt like they were made of damp sand, his thoughts clouded by the constant, dull roar of physical exhaustion. Now, he felt as though he had been seeing the world through a thick, dirty lens that had suddenly been wiped clean by a surgeon's hand.
He clenched his right fist. He could feel the individual fibers of muscle coiling like steel cables. He could hear the drip of water from a stalactite fifty yards away.
**[Current Status: Level 1]**
**[Strength: 10 (+10)]**
**[Agility: 10 (+10)]**
**[Vitality: 10 (+10)]**
**[Sense: 5]**
**[Intelligence: 10]**
**[Skill Active: Pain Suppression (Passive)]**
The Demon—the Eclipse-Class Lord-General candidate—did not understand "Levels" or "Stat Points." It was a creature of the Abyss, a primordial hunter that functioned on the logic of soul-density. And the soul it felt coming from this small, two-legged creature was expanding, hardening into a diamond-sharp edge with every passing second.
It let out a guttural hiss, its fractured jaw hanging at an awkward, gruesome angle from the previous explosion. It crouched low to the ground, its obsidian claws gouging deep furrows into the fleshy floor as it prepared for a final, desperate culling.
Then, it struck.
This was the Demon's true, unbridled speed—the kind of speed that had wiped out entire Platinum-Rank squads in the Great War. It moved like a lightning strike, a jagged bolt of obsidian fur and scale aimed directly at Kaelen's heart.
In his old life, Kaelen wouldn't have even seen the blur. He would have been dead before his nervous system could even register the concept of a threat. But now?
*Slow,* Kaelen thought.
It wasn't that the Demon was actually slow; it was that Kaelen's brain was processing reality at a frequency he had never reached before. With 10 points in Agility, his perception of the world had dilated. The Demon wasn't a teleporting monster anymore; it was a physical object moving through three-dimensional space with a predictable trajectory.
Kaelen didn't panic. He didn't even flinch. He simply pivoted on his left heel, a movement as precise and effortless as a dancer.
The Demon's massive claw passed a hair's breadth from his chest, the displaced air whistling against his new, toughened skin like a physical blade. As the creature overextended, its momentum carrying it past him, Kaelen didn't just dodge—he countered. He drove his rusted iron dagger into the soft, unarmored joint of the Demon's shoulder where the wing met the torso.
*CRUNCH.*
The "Standard Issue Mark IV" blade, which usually snapped against anything harder than an imp's hide, sank five inches deep into the Demon's flesh. Kaelen's 10 points of Strength acted like a hydraulic press, forcing the dull, notched metal through layers of leathery muscle and dense Abyssal bone.
The Demon shrieked—a sound of pure, unadulterated shock. It scrambled back, black ichor dripping from its shoulder, staining the floor with a liquid that smoked as it touched the air. It looked at the wound, then at Kaelen. For the first time in its long, murderous existence, the predator felt the cold, paralyzing prickle of prey-instinct.
**[Warning: Weapon Durability is at 5%.]**
**[Note: Your physical strength is currently higher than the structural integrity of your weapon. Excessive force will result in weapon shattering.]**
"Right," Kaelen muttered, looking at the bent and blood-slicked dagger. It felt like a toothpick in his hand. "I need something better. But this will have to do for your funeral."
He didn't wait for the Demon to recover. He decided to test the limits of his new existence. He tapped into the dark well of energy the System had opened inside him.
"**Blood-Lust Aura.**"
The effect was instantaneous. A dark, crimson mist erupted from Kaelen's shadow, swirling around his feet like a living, hungry thing. The air in the cavern grew ten degrees colder, the bioluminescence of the walls turning a sickly, panicked red.
This wasn't just a magical effect; it was the manifestation of Kaelen's trauma, his death, and his absolute, bone-deep refusal to be fodder. It was the weight of every time he had been stepped on, channeled into a single, crushing intent.
**[Effect: Enemy's Physical Defense reduced by 15%.]**
**[Effect: Enemy's Agility reduced by 10%.]**
**[Status: The Abyssal Lord is 'Terrified'.]**
The Demon tried to roar, but it came out as a pathetic, strangled whine. It looked at Kaelen and saw not a human, but a void—a glitch in the natural order that was meant to consume it. It turned to flee, its massive, tattered wings beating the air with a desperate, frantic rhythm. It wanted out. It wanted to go back to the dark, silent Abyss where things like Kaelen didn't exist.
"No," Kaelen said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble.
He moved. He didn't run; he *leaped*. The 10 points in Strength and Agility combined to propel his body with the force of a launched missile. He cleared thirty feet in a single bound, his hand slamming onto the back of the Demon's thick, scaled neck while it was mid-air.
The weight of Kaelen's landing brought them both crashing back to the floor with a bone-shattering thud. Kaelen was on top now, his knees pinned against the Demon's wing-joints, locking the beast down.
"You like to play with your food, right?" Kaelen hissed, his gold-ringed eyes burning with an unholy light that reflected in the demon's terrified pupils. "Vance liked that too. Let's see how you like the taste of your own medicine."
He brought the blade down.
*Stab. Stab. Stab.*
He didn't aim for the heart or the brain—not yet. He aimed for the tendons. He aimed for the nerves. He carved through the obsidian scales, the iron dagger screaming as it began to deform and shatter under the sheer force of his grip. Black blood sprayed across Kaelen's face, warm and thick, painting him like the very monsters he had been sent to scout.
The Demon thrashed, its tail whipping wildly, smashing stalagmites into rubble, but Kaelen didn't budge. He was a mountain of spite. He was an inevitability.
Finally, the Demon's movements slowed to a weak tremor. Kaelen gripped the hilt of the dagger—now just a jagged shard of metal—and positioned it over the Demon's primary eye.
"This is for the distraction," Kaelen whispered.
With a final, guttural roar of effort, he drove the shard directly into the Demon's skull, pushing through the resistance until he felt the blade snap off deep inside the brain matter.
The Demon gave one final, violent convulsion, its wings sprawling out like a macabre carpet. Its burning violet eyes flickered, dimmed, and finally went dark, the light of the Abyss extinguished.
**[Target Executed: Abyssal Lord Candidate (Eclipse-Class).]**
**[Calculating Massive XP Bonus for 'Low-Level Kill'...]**
**[Calculating Bonus for 'Solo Execution'...]**
**[LEVEL UP!]**
**[LEVEL UP!]**
**[LEVEL UP!]**
**[LEVEL UP!]**
**[You are now Level 5.]**
**[You have 20 unassigned Stat Points.]**
**[Hidden Condition Met: 'The One Who Defies Rank'.]**
**[Reward: Rank-E Evolution unlocked early. You may now bypass the government's Rank-Test requirements.]**
**[Looting 'Abyssal Lord'...]**
**[Obtained: 'Core of the Forsaken' (Rank-S Material - Soul Binded)]**
**[Obtained: Skill Book - 'Shadow Step' (Rank-B).]**
Kaelen sat on the cooling carcass of the monster, his chest heaving as the adrenaline slowly began to recede. The crimson mist of his aura retracted into his skin, leaving him shivering in the sudden silence of the tomb. He was covered in black ichor, his clothes were literal rags, and he was alone in a sealed dungeon that was supposed to be his grave.
But as he looked at his hands—hands that no longer trembled, hands that felt capable of tearing through steel—a slow, dark grin spread across his face.
He looked at the heavy iron doors—the ones Vance and Elara had locked from the outside to ensure his death. They probably thought they were safe. They probably thought the secret died with him.
"Twenty points," Kaelen whispered, the blue screen reflecting in his golden eyes like a promise of vengeance. "Let's see how much faster I can get before I find them."
He stood up, the silence of the dungeon no longer feeling like a threat. It felt like his throne room.