Chapter Two: Oliver Lancaster

The moment Oliver materialized in the new environment, his entire body screamed in protest.

A violent dizziness washed over him, his stomach twisting into knots as he collapsed to one knee.

His mind struggled to process the abrupt teleportation, the sheer unnaturalness of it.

One second, he was in his apartment, about to curse at the blinding light. The next, he was here.

Wherever 'here' was.

His head pounded as he forced his eyes open. The first thing he noticed was the sky—or rather, the grotesque mockery of one.

A red sun loomed high above, its dim glow shrouded by a thick, gray fog that curled like smoke through the air. The landscape around him was eerie, a battlefield long since abandoned.

Weapons of all kinds jutted out from the cracked, barren ground—rusted swords, broken spears, shattered shields.

Some were embedded so deeply into the earth that they looked like gravestones marking the fallen. Dried blood stained the dirt, forming dark patches against the already desolate terrain.

Whatever battle had taken place here, it had happened ages ago.

He exhaled sharply, steadying himself. His body still felt disoriented, but his mind was already shifting into focus. There was no one else around. No signs of life. No movement.

Then, a screen suddenly flickered into existence before his eyes.

[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT]

Designation: Earthling – Unclassified

Status: Unverified

The Ascension Trials have begun. Before you claim your place in the Main World and awaken your destined class, you must prove yourself worthy.

Location:

The Crimson Grave Field: A forsaken battlefield where the echoes of war still linger. The sun hangs low and red, casting an eerie, bloodstained glow over the fog-choked expanse. It is infested with lesser ghouls.

Lesser Ghouls:

Lesser Ghouls are solitary, low-tier undead that haunt the ruins of old battlefields and cursed lands, scavenging for anything remotely alive. They are the weakest form of ghouls, possessing little more strength than an average human male, yet they remain deadly due to their relentless aggression and unnatural endurance.

Trial Parameters:

Duration: 4 Earth Hours

Objective: Endure until time expires or eliminate a Lesser Ghoul

Failure Conditions:

Death before trial completion.

Voluntary surrender (results in permanent forfeiture of Main World entry and Death).

Rewards for Completion:

Official Classification as an Ascended Earthling

Awakening of a Class based on aptitude and performance

Access to the Main World

Warning: The Ascension System is absolute. Those who falter shall be discarded. The path forward belongs only to the strong.

Oliver's eyes narrowed as the message vanished. His fingers curled into fists.

Panic wasn't an option. He had long since learned that fear never saved anyone. Taking a deep breath, he began to scan the field, assessing his options.

The weapons embedded in the ground were old, rusted, and some barely usable. Still, they were better than nothing.

He sifted through the wreckage quickly, testing different swords for balance until he settled on a double-edged blade.

The steel was dull but solid, and the weight felt manageable in his hands.

His grip tightened around the hilt. He had a history with blades—nothing fancy, just raw experience from street fights.

His neighborhood hadn't been the friendly type. Survival had been a skill, not a choice.

Satisfied with his weapon, he searched for a vantage point. A large boulder nearby provided decent cover.

Without hesitation, he crouched behind it, peering out into the fog-covered battlefield.

He was certain he could take one ghoul down and earn better rewards than just hiding for four hours.

So, he waited. He knew that a Lesser Ghoul would pass through here—because of the worn path filled with claw marks and dried blood proof of a patrol route.

And since it was their territory, He was sure the marks wouldn't belong to another creature.

Minutes passed in silence.

Then—

Crunch.

A sickening, wet sound echoed through the lifeless landscape. Oliver's grip on his sword tightened as he peeked past the jagged rock.

A figure emerged from the fog.

It was humanoid in shape but wrong in every other way. Its flesh was gray and shriveled, stretched tightly over protruding bones as if starvation had consumed everything except its hunger.

Hollow, soulless eye sockets gleamed with a faint, eerie light, and its mouth twitched with unnatural spasms, revealing needle-like teeth coated in black ichor.

Its elongated fingers twitched, clawed hands scraping against the broken weapons littering the battlefield.

It moved in unsettling jerks, sniffing the air, its bony chest rising and falling with ragged, unnatural breaths.

A Lesser Ghoul.

Oliver remained still, waiting.

The creature sniffed the air again. Its jaw clicked, sharp teeth grinding together.

Then, it passed where Oliver was.

Now.

Oliver lunged from his hiding place, his double-edged sword gleaming under the dim red sun. He swung with all his strength, and the blade carved deep into the creature's side.

The ghoul shrieked—a high-pitched, otherworldly wail that sent a shiver down his spine.

It whirled on him, claws flashing forward. Oliver barely managed to twist away, but pain erupted across his arm as talons grazed his flesh.

He gritted his teeth, ignoring the sting. He had fought plenty before—against thugs, against gangs. So He knew pain.

The ghoul lunged again.

Oliver met it head-on, parrying with his sword before slamming his foot into its knee, forcing it to stagger.

He followed up with a ruthless slash across its shoulder, nearly severing its arm. The blade caught in the creature's flesh, its rusted edge failing to make a clean cut.

But the ghoul was faltering. One more strike—

Then he heard them.

More footsteps. More growls.

Three more ghouls emerged from the fog, their hollow eyes locking onto him like predators who had cornered their prey.

Oliver clenched his jaw, distancing himself from the current Ghoul. He pressed his back against the boulder to prevent them from flanking him.

'This just got a lot harder'

He didn't even have time to think why a solitary monster was in a group before they attacked.

The fight was brutal.

Claws tore into his flesh. He fought back, dodging when he could, countering when possible, but his strength was slipping.

His sword cleaved through one's ribs, but another raked its talons across his chest. He lost his left ear. Then his right eye. Then—

His left arm.

Pain, unlike anything he had ever felt, consumed him. Blood poured from his ruined body, his remaining arm barely able to hold his sword. He was dying.

And just as his life flashed before his eyes his mind focused on a single painful memory —the night his family was slaughtered.

He had been powerless to stop it.

He was weak, just like now.

If he had been stronger, he could have saved them.

If he was stronger now, he could kill these monsters.

But he wasn't. He was weak then, and he was weak now.

His vision blurred with fury—pure, unrelenting hatred for the monsters that reminded Him of his weakness.

"If I'm going to die…" he tightened his grip on his sword, his body trembling. "Then I'll at least take one of you with me."

With a final, rage-fueled cry, he charged.

The ghouls rushed toward him, their clawed hands eager to finish him off.

He ducked, weaved, and twisted past their strikes, every ounce of his remaining strength forcing his body to move. And then—

His sword plunged into the chest of the first ghoul, the one he had been fighting the longest.

It let out a hideous, gurgling shriek as its body convulsed, dark blood pouring from the wound.

But the other ghouls didn't stop.

They tore into him, their claws ripping him to shreds, his body falling apart under their relentless assault.

His remaining arm fell limp. His legs gave out. Darkness consumed his vision.

He was dying.

And then—

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

[TRIAL COMPLETED]

[Trial Performance: SSS]

End of Chapter Two