| The Forest Demons | Town of Revanel Arc Beginning

In a dim lit room, there was blood sprayed against the wall.

A teenager no older than 16 sat in a seat.

He had black hair, bangs hiding his sharp brown eyes. His physique was what sat in the middle of high athletic and regular. He was 6'0, black-clad in a tuxedo, tightly holding a sullied mallet upright in his left hand, keeping it on the ground, holding its grip. He had mixed skin, that was brightly colored due to the aperture on the stone ceiling.

He sighed and got up.

"Holy hero fanatics, now flesh mounds. And to think these were Rank N... just how strong am I since the checkup?" He chuckled a bit at his remark, and walked out, but with his immense speed, not even the people with untiered perception traits granted by the Eternal were able to catch even a small glimpse of the boy.

This was the life of the Skullhound, the only person in history to never be detected by the Area Mages.

But this powerhouse wasn't always this strong.

- Several Months ago -

Mark Greenheart woke up, laying in a puddle full of blood, and a slash on him. Due to the absence of the pain, he didn't realize for a moment until he began screaming loudly in fear, but his mouth had refused his brain's demands.

"Unfair death has occurred... scanning severity..." said a robotic, masculine voice.

* beep, scan... scan... beep *

For a moment, Mark didn't notice the voice, but adapted to it, as he thought this was a mere dream. He, confident in it, had decided to remain calm.

"User is awarded... Curse of Prometheus, and Chained Sais of Curses." says the robotic voice.

"What does Curse of Prometheus do?"

"Curse of Prometheus removes your magic operator in your body every single day at 5 AM, restricting you from using magic any later and resetting your magic proficiency in return for impossibly great senses and physical might. The Chained Sais send long-lasting magic of any kind that the user wills, including fire, unluckiness, poison, and even deterioration and petrification."

Mark thought for a little, but suddenly became angry, his face twitching.

"The Curse is a curse! It's taken my only chance of becoming the hero of a world! Wait, this isn't real."

He laughed, and slapped his hand at his foolishness, but, he felt it. Immediately, his face paled. He pinched himself, as a man in a desert once did to realize he was really going against polar bear sized animals in a damned desert.

(I'm going to ignore you guys don't know the reference to Building a Base In An Immortal Realm when I referred you guys to it...)

"Absolute regeneration and healing has activated." the voice said.

His skin quickly closed in on the injury, and it vanished as if never there to begin with. 

"Now I can accept that- WAIT, I'M IN A WORLD WITH A SYSTEM!?" Mark yelled.

"Without a system, I'm sadly not yours. I serve the whole world."

Mark frowned a little at the voice's rejection, but sighed. He jumped up, and immediately felt dizzy. He was suddenly subject to a torture of finding out he was a prey.

From behind a bush, a sentience with metallic medieval armor, with air as its wearer. 

________

<< The Invisible Palace's Protector >>

< The Invisible Palace's Protectors is a dead knight of various long-forgotten kingdoms. Even its skeletons have vanished, and due to the role it wishes to maintain, it has grown a curse, keeping it alive and protective of where the kingdom may have been long ago. >

_____

Mark immediately asked for assistance.

"Hey... um, do you know how I can get a system so I can become overpower-"

Mark immediately jumped backwards, as the knight slashed diagonally, surprising him. Mark, although quite addicted to animes and shows was not stupid.

After all, what stupid person would deduce this being's weakness was the fact it was possessed by some ghostly form.

'If that's true, then taking off its helmet is the only chance I got!' he thought, then got into a stance he had studied to be the best if he ever was in combat… which he ended up not doing till now.

As the knight executed an overhead strike, Mark moved towards it, and found out that he as a newbie was nowhere near the transmigrators of shows, but he guessed it made sense because he wasn't born as a slime or a self-proclaimed genius goblin which sneaked snarky remarks at his friends.

A fanatic of anime and novels, eh?

Besides that, Mark's fist left nothing, and only moved the helmet by a inch. In anger, the knight retaliated with a Zwerchhau, horizontally slashing, cutting off one of Mark's hands.

"Weapon has appeared. It will appear in a area near you."

He looked behind, to see it near a well, about to tip off.

Accidentally, being a bad wielder of such weapons, he lacerated his wounded arm.

'I wish there was some kind of healing magic I was given… or maybe the System could have served me! Screw you, omnipotent system belonging to the streets."

The system must have gotten angry because the cut only deepened.

"Healing magic is active for 8 minutes." Said the system, sounding a bit annoyed to be serving him.

His hand regenerated, to his relief.

He threw the dual Sai's chain onto the knight, and ran behind the knight, pulling off its head. As it popped off, Mark watched as the knight attempted to search for him, its movements slowly but surely moving down in speed.

Soon, it was crawling, and Mark stomped it down triumphantly, and it laid down. Mark then dug up dirt and placed the knight in it, and put a piece of grass above it, then leaving.

Although he won, he felt remorse. He had taken away a creature that seemed to defensively fight, its aggressive sword technique becoming gentle when he had moved away.

"You won't be forgotten by me. Not even when I'm the strongest." Mark said, as he looked down at the makeshift grave.

He now recognized that these monsters weren't as evil as they were told to be. Maybe they were just ghostly forms in this world.

Slow and deliberate, the teen walked across the landscape of the forest, and murmurs caused him to excitedly sprint, praying that he'd find a town.

The town is a simple town, but there is a very prominent place, men and woman speaking there alike. They stand before a piece of paper, browned by its time of being there.

_____

{THE FINAL JUDGE}

{The Final Judge is an unnamed outlaw, ranking at Tier W20. He may have the Demon Title, due to the amass of untrusted sources and trusted sources of him executing people reaching seventy. This makes his danger if he is associated with the Demons to N15.}

{Bounty: Ownership of the Crystal Exhibit}

{Bounty Type: Body Needed – Minimum: Permanently Paralyzed.}

{Bounty Set By: Great Duke Yick.}

{Located at: The Prosperous Forest of Lamach.}

{Go to the Palace of the Forest if you have completed.}

______________

He read it, surprised to see such a deadly man. He had killed over seventy people and might be associated with demons? Who is this guy, the protagonist of a story about a journal that kills whatever name is written in it?

He found interest in this man's feats, but what was more interesting was the bounty. This Crystal Exhibit, it must have been very valuable for all these armor decked people to get around it, marking and noting.

"I heard he can beat a zombie horde of more than a 100 and a boss." said a man, gossiping to his friends.

"Of course he can! Are you stupid!?" said one of his friends in anger.

It was an understandable annoyance, for the tier of zombies were Y20, and even a Zombie King was ranked Y15.

As for the ranking system, Mark had seen it on a wall.

{Y20 – Y1 = Newbie [Zombie Rank]}

{T20 – T1 = Beginner [Orc Rank]}

{R20 – R1 = Amateur [Vampire Rank]}

{E20 – E1 = Pro [Hybrid Rank]}

{W20 – W1 = Master [Prowler Rank]}

{Q20 – Q1 = King [Demon Rank]}

{Rebirth 1 – Rebirth 20 = Almighty [Demon King Rank]}

{There is no rank above Rebirth 1, and the person who is Rebirth 1 is the strongest.}

{…}

{Consult a Headmaster of Borxia if the receptionist refuses to elaborate on your ranking.}

He nodded in understanding, and instead walked up to the receptionist, walking by the bars that confined the line since there was no one anyways.

"I'd like to have my rank detected." He asked, and suddenly, all noise stopped, and everyone began gazing at him as if he was some extraterrestrial being. Although he couldn't see himself, he was pretty sure he hadn't died, because his scar he got from doing a backflip off a playground with rocks as the flooring as a kid was still there, its pinkish color remaining.

The real answer was that almost none of them liked newcomers because The Final Judge was thought to be a newcomer that they had rudely treated, so he vanished and killed anyone that left the town to even the score, or correctly, put himself worlds in front.

And although their boorish behavior was the reason that began, they still had the guts to look at newcomers rudely. To dissect newcomers by seniors and settlers, they had never done reranking and would keep notes of each other's faces.

They sneered as he innocently looked. The only one not to? The receptionist, who glowered at their faces, making them go back to what they were doing, but sneak ignorant insults, but they found it hard since Mark's appearance was perfect.

"Look at him… he's so cute… but also masculine." Said a girl, finding it difficult to find weaknesses in his clothing. His clothing seemed expensively created, and that was a spot they found.

"Look at him! He has expensive clothes! Bought by his father!" yelled a man.

Although this was not much of a reason, they made it out to be, disgustingly staring at him, and laughing. Of course, this guy's statement was not that funny, and they were merely thinking of their own jokes and implementing them to their brains to make it seem funny.

It's extra work to be a hater.

He responded, surprising them.

"Why do you care, old bald man?" asked Mark, with a calm face.

It seemed he was genuinely inquiring.

The man became silent, thinking of a return to him.

He silently stood there, shocking the majority.

Mark went back, writing his signature, and soon, he was placed on the device. The device worked on mana, and used complex equations of math, but in return took thirty seconds to scan and give statistics individually every scan up and down, with lines of text appearing.

*Beep*

{SPIRIT SOUL: GOD KILLER}

{God Killer was the same being that sealed the Greek Gods and allowed a better god to flourish that wasn't restricted by elements, and lived omnipotently, permanently.

God Killer is fond of non-human races and has irresistible charisma when it comes to them.

The God Killer gets an amplification of divine magic and can use race-select magic at a high value.

The God Killer will always find what they are looking for if there is a chance of it being there, at the cost of any sense of location, and therefore getting the treasure is hard and leaving is even harder.

Those are the set benefits.}

*Beep*

{Magic Pressure: - (Go to a Headmaster)}

{Intimidation Pressure: - (Go to a Headmaster)}

{Physical Senses: - (Go to a Headmaster)}

*Beep*

{Fighting Intellect: Pro}

From there, nearly all of his statistics were N/A.

The receptionist's face was in disbelief as she read the paper and its contents. Even if she did not comment, he could tell something extreme had occurred, and he wasn't the regular. Maybe it was because of his magic output, or maybe his physical senses had kicked.

Suddenly, from within his head, the bastard system appeared.

"Your Physical Might has been implemented. Recommendation: Do not showcase your power, it is too high to implement at once. Current strength: R10."

He nodded in understanding, and went to the receptionist, eagerly waiting to know his rightful place as a Vampire Rank, apart of the unofficial slangs that the Kingdom of Alphard had adopted to know which creatures a certain person could kill with little to no difficulty.

"You are a Untiered." She answered, her voice slightly tainted with disgust before he could ask.

"Which means you're too weak to register. I recommend going to the headmaster." She explained, while ripping up the paper from behind the desk, but for some reason, Mark was easily able to see it, his eyes subconsciously focusing in on it.

May it be his physical might or intuition of a lady-killer, he could tell she was hiding something. He looked at her expectantly like she was going to burst, but she kept her false disgust unsheathed. He sighed, and the others couldn't help but laugh.

"Look at this monkey!" said the bald man he'd insulted in happiness.

Mark was an investor of future events and said something confidently after perfectly deciding his sentence.

"When I come back, do me a favor and kneel on rocks and move positions every thirty seconds. That is, for the women. For the men, I want you to whip each other. Have a battle royale. If you don't, I'll bring a vampire here on a leash to bark at you and get a few ounces of blood each."

They all laughed, but Mark made a sinister smile before heading off. All but the receptionist snuck insults.

She was one of the only few who knew his danger to not be ranked and have a title. If these rodents knew the danger – they'd pale.

'He must be killed.' Thought Isabella Lightborne, a non-hereditary member of the Neutralization Clan, which took out strong members who threatened the public and could be capable of taking it out.

She had beige skin that only darkened under the gable of the Upha, the abbreviation for Unnamed Public Hunter Associations.

Elsewhere, Mark had taken his path to the giant seven-pieced building, rather, a tower in the middle, and smaller buildings around it. He supposed that this was it based on the bold words inscribed on it "BORXIA ACADEMY OF THE JENHAO GENERATION".

Even a school in another world is made by China. Mark wondered if it had the "MADE IN CHINA" stamp behind it. That'd be hilarious. He didn't know how fast the world was going compared to this world, but if it was like most in the novels, days had passed, and a lot could happen in even a day.

Who knows, maybe an alien organization had illegally guided them and saved them and made some of their descendants enter this world, and he'd clash against them?

That'd be an amazing novel, wouldn't it? Enough for the writer of this multiverse to erase this one and allow his supreme readers to read another.

I'm joking, readers.))

He made it.

The giant towers pierced the blue sky, and in front of it, a gate with three guards in front of it in a triangle formation.

He didn't know if it was intentional, but what he did know was that if these guards had children, they must have learned their shapes incredibly fast.

He made up a story in his head.

"Triangle." said the imaginary son.

"He said his first word!" said the imaginary mother.

"Sorry, he saw me at Borxia, he said it about a month ago." said one of the guards in his thoughts.

He chuckled at it, but the guards stared him up and down, till a guard angrily yelled, snapping him out of his illusionary trance.

"What the hell are you doing here if you're just going to stand!?" yelled the guard, Louis Tranz.

Mark angrily yelled out something stupid.

"I'm sorry that he said it when he was 1 year old!"

The guards began wondering if they were talking to some drunk gay pedophile.

They became silent, even a hop of the Assassin Rabbit, a passive hybrid of carnivores, the hunters and a simple rabbit. This resulted in a vulture-like being, who hunted dead corpses.

After saying that horrible pedophile-like sentence, he quietly whispered a plea.

"Can I be admitted to the Headmaster's Quarters?"

A guard nodded, immediately taking him to the place at a quick speed.

He didn't even allow the Headmaster to ask him Mark's reason for arriving.

The Headmaster noticed a faint tear welling up in the guard's eyes, not of sadness or surprise. His mouth was curled, expanded representing he couldn't hold his laugh much.

As he turned the corner back to the gate, he made a world-shaking laugh to the point people 120 meters away could hear the echoes of it.

Humans were naturally reinforced by their magic, so their physical power would usually depend on their magical power.

Mark was an antonym of this.

So, both Mark and the Headmaster sat down.

He had grey, long hair that went to his waist, and was dressed in an elegantly worn white robe, his hands clasped together to hide them.

Now was the beginning of the conversation, and understanding the hidden themes of this world.