Chapter 3: From Ashes, A Shield

In the deepest recesses of an expanse deep underground, a large Citadel sprawled out in the distance, framed by a grotesque tableau of death.

An illusory storm-filled sky unfolded on the ceiling of this underground world, with its deep red hues casting a blood-red luminescence upon the twisted landscape below.

The fourth layer of hell, Satan's Citadel, lay engulfed in eternal tempests and unending chaos. Cliffs and ravines slashed through the battlefield, presenting treacherous paths amidst the ceaseless warfare that echoed throughout the underground world.

At the centre of the marred battlefield, humanoid and monstrous forms lay strewn across the landscape, their twisted frames and lifeless eyes reflecting the battle's carnage.

Tattered remnants of once-proud banners fluttered like spectres in the illusory tempest; their colours drowned in the desolate battlefield's crimson hues.

The stench of blood and decay saturated the air, even as the false winds whipped through the underground domain. The tumultuous storm rendered the atmosphere heavy with the essence of death, yet no rain fell, leaving the grotesque tableau perpetually in a state of eerie chaos.

In the heart of this desolation, time felt suspended, as if this false world itself had paused to witness the relentless horrors.

However, the eerie stillness of the battlefield was shattered as, within the charred crater that had served as the starting bell for the unforgiving battle, the scorched, blackened earth at the epicentre gave way. A writhing, white mass began to squirm from beneath the ground. Slowly, the mass shifted, morphing into the outline of white bones that quickly formed into a skeleton with thick, broad limbs.

Layer by layer, the grotesque transformation continued. A deep crimson hue spread over the bones, shaping into ligaments, followed by the dense formation of muscles and flesh. Organs materialised within the ribcage and skull and quickly grew in size and mass, filing the empty voids. Despite the grotesque nature of the scene, it possessed a strange allure. Piece by piece, a body was rebuilt before finally being encased in a layer of thick, black skin. With a heavy thud, a two-meter-long figure collapsed onto the ground with a groan.

"Ahh... I feel like shit!" Elijah hissed, his voice low and pained, and his body squirmed as he made contact with the ground. Each movement and breath felt like needles were piercing through all the pores in his skin.

However, Elijah had long become accustomed to pain, and after a few minutes, as the searing agony began to fade, he managed to regain his composure.

Taking slow, deliberate breaths, Elijah steadied himself before pushing upright. As he glanced around, he was momentarily disoriented, finding himself at the bottom of a crater, surrounded by nothing but scorched, desolate earth. As he looked up, he saw the crater's rim, towering five meters above him and blocking any view of the battlefield beyond.

As Elijah's senses returned, he realised another discomfort. He was completely naked. Elijah could feel the warmth of the ground pressing against his skin and the dry dust clinging to him. A quick check confirmed his suspicions.

Looking down, he saw that all his equipment, everything he had gathered over the years, was gone. His 'spatial ring', usually resting on his left index finger, had vanished, taking with it the meticulously earned and hoarded treasures of countless battles.

With a frustrated groan, Elijah lamented the loss of his hard-earned wealth. But the memories of the battle that had transpired moments before he lost consciousness flooded back into his mind, causing a dull ache to throb behind his eyes. Elijah gritted his teeth with a groan as he began working through the haze of memories.

"We were talking… and then? … and then…we were ambushed!"

The realisation hit Elijah like a hammer. Despite the lingering aches, Elijah scrambled to his feet, desperately pulling on the 'true bond' between him and his mythical ranked shield, 'Hallowed Embrace,' enforced through his legendary ranked 'Shield Grandmaster' skill.

However, in a poor turn of events, the moment he reached out to connect with his shield, a sharp, searing pain struck his mind like a hammer, and he collapsed face-first into the dirt, clutching his head in agony.

Through gritted teeth, Elijah remembered what had truly happened. His current state was the result of using his shields, 'Guardian Angel' enchantment, to protect his comrades. The attack that Eljah had taken in place of his comrades should have killed him. By all rights, he should be dead. But he was not, and he knew why.

Only a few weeks ago, Elijah had ascended to the ninth tier of power, reaching the ninetieth level. With this new precipice of power came a Mythical ranked class advancement that also gave him a mythical ranked skill, and it was because of this new skill that he was still alive. Or, more accurately, came back to life!

"Second Life…" Elijah muttered, the name of the skill slipping from his lips.

The skill did exactly as its name suggested. It gave him a second chance at life. No matter how he died, as long as his soul was not destroyed, his body would reassemble itself, even piecing itself back together from nothing.

It sounded like an overpowered ability, and that was because it was. But the skill did not come without its limitations. Mythic-ranked skills had high requirements and costs for usage. They placed immense pressure on the user's body and required a huge amount of resources, both stamina and mana, to be used.

 After using 'Second Life,' Elijah would be unable to use any skills and would only be able to use the smallest slivers of mana. Also, his stats would be reduced to that of a mere human for several days. It was the price he had to pay for such a skill, but one he accepted willingly.

Elijah's thoughts then turned to the unnerving silence of the battlefield.

"Kenji…" Elijah spoke with a shaky, pained breath, fear creeping into his voice.

With a grunt of effort, Elijah forced his aching muscles to carry him toward the crater's edge. His body was weak and burning with fatigue, but he needed to know if his comrades had survived. After all, that was the type of person he was. That was the reason he was a tank, all to make sure his comrades lived. That was the power of friendship! The power of family!

As for whether his comrades knew he was still alive and, as a result, could have already left the battle, well, Elijah had not exactly shared his new skill with them.

This wasn't because Elijah didn't trust them. They were his closest friends, comrades with whom he had survived the harshest battles with. They had shared countless life-and-death moments, secrets, and victories. But Elijah knew exactly how they would react to this skill, especially Kenji.

The bond between Kenji and Elijah was forged in blood and steel. They bled for one another, saved each other time and time again, and were as close as brothers. But Kenji had always been vocal about one thing. Kenji did not like how Elijah tanked.

That was not because Kenji doubted Elijah's abilities. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He admired Elijah as one of the finest tanks he had ever known. What Kenji hated was the lengths Elijah went to. The way he absorbed life-threatening injuries, shielding his comrades by taking the full brunt of the damage onto himself.

Elijah's stats were focused almost entirely on endurance and vitality, making him incredibly difficult to kill, a human cockroach, as some jokingly called him, and his original title had been 'Human shield' because, like a shield, he always endured.

Elijah's title only changed to 'Humanities Shield' when he joined Kenji's group and fought side by side with the 'Humanities sword'. But no matter how durable he was, Elijah still felt pain. And Kenji, as his friend, could not stand to see him hurt like that.

If Kenji knew about 'Second Life,' the first thought that would cross his mind was that Elijah would sacrifice himself even more recklessly, relying on the skill to pull him back from death. Kenji would never agree to that. So, Elijah kept it under wraps, figuring it was better for everyone and would save him from an annoying lecture.

Because, no matter how much Kenji would demand him not to use it, and even if Elijah agreed and promised not to, deep down, he knew the truth. He would still use it without hesitation if it meant saving his comrades, so it was better to avoid that type of conversation altogether.

The eerie stillness of the desolate battlefield was abruptly broken by the sudden emergence of a hand clawing its way out of a deep, scorched crater. Soon after, an arm followed, trembling with effort, as its owner struggled to pull themself up from the crater depths.

Elijah's body quaked with exhaustion, but sheer determination forced him onward. Gritting his teeth, inch by agonising inch, he heaved himself up until, at long last, he reached the crater's edge. Breathing heavily, Elijah looked across the battlefield.