The Marked Must Rise

Kyle stood in the middle of the ruined village, his breath slow, controlled. The Black Legion had retreated, but not because they feared him. They had been testing him, measuring his strength, seeing how much of a threat he really was. The Executioner's words echoed in his mind.

"This is not over, Marked One."

They would be back. And next time, they wouldn't hold back.

Kyle wiped the blood from his cheek and took stock of his body. His ribs ached from the impact of being slammed into the ground, but Relentless Endurance had kept him moving despite the pain. His breathing steadied, his muscles still thrumming with the residual energy of Blood Reclamation. He felt stronger, but it wasn't enough. He needed to know exactly where he stood.

A familiar screen appeared in his vision.

---

Character Sheet Updated

Name: Kyle

Title(s): Beastslayer, Defier of Fate, Marked for War

Race: Human (Outworlder)

Class: Warlord of the Marked

Level: 7

Attributes:

Strength: 20 (+2 from absorbing Black Legion blood)

Dexterity: 16

Constitution: 16 (+2 from Relentless Endurance)

Intelligence: 12

Wisdom: 10

Charisma: 8

Skills:

Blood Reclamation (Lv. 3): Absorbs the strength of fallen foes. Healing properties increased.

Spectral Rend (Lv. 1): Allows Kyle to harm ethereal or undead enemies.

Evolutionary Growth (Passive): Kyle's abilities change based on necessity rather than system-imposed limits.

Tactical Instinct (Lv. 1): Enhanced reaction speed and combat awareness.

Relentless Endurance (Lv. 1): When critically wounded, pain is reduced, stamina surges, and the next attack hits with double force.

Equipment:

Worn Iron Sword: Basic but effective.

Reinforced Leather Armor: Offers minimal protection.

Status Effects:

Marked by The Land (???): Unknown consequences.

Path of the Forgotten: No longer bound by traditional system constraints.

---

Kyle clenched his fists. He was getting stronger, but the Black Legion had made one thing clear. Being Marked meant being hunted. If he wanted to survive, he had to be more than just strong. He had to be unstoppable.

He moved through the remains of the village, scanning for anything useful. The fire had destroyed most of the buildings, leaving only blackened beams and collapsed roofs. The bodies of the villagers—mostly goblins—were scattered throughout, their forms twisted in death.

Kyle had no love for goblins, but something about this massacre sat wrong with him. This hadn't been a battle. It had been a purge.

He searched through what remained of a merchant stall and found a half-burned sack of supplies. Inside, he discovered dried meat, a waterskin, and a handful of small iron coins.

A notification flickered.

Item Acquired: Unidentified Currency

A form of trade used in The Land. Some factions still honor its value.

Kyle pocketed the coins. If there were factions out there still using a system of trade, that meant there were places he could go, maybe even people he could bargain with.

He kept moving, stepping over broken beams and shattered pottery. Near the village's center, he spotted a stone well, its base cracked but still intact. Kyle peered inside.

Water.

His throat burned with the realization of how thirsty he was. He lowered the waterskin and pulled it up after a moment, taking a long, careful drink. It was cold, refreshing.

For the first time since arriving in this world, he let himself breathe.

Then he heard it.

A rustling sound.

Kyle's instincts screamed. He spun, sword raised—

A figure darted from the shadows, fast but small. It wasn't a warrior. It wasn't Black Legion.

It was a child.

A goblin child.

The small creature—barely waist-high—stared up at him, eyes wide with fear. Its clothes were tattered, its green skin smeared with soot and ash.

Kyle exhaled sharply. He had been expecting an enemy. Instead, he found a survivor.

The goblin flinched as Kyle stepped closer, its tiny hands clenched into fists.

He lowered his sword. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The goblin hesitated, its body trembling. It didn't speak, didn't make a sound, just stared at him with unreadable eyes.

Kyle knelt, making himself seem less threatening. "I saw what happened here. The people who did this… they'll be back."

The goblin's eyes flickered toward the burned village, then back at Kyle. It was young, too young to have survived this alone. Someone must have hidden it before the attack.

Kyle sighed. He didn't have time for this, but leaving the kid here was a death sentence.

"Do you have a name?" he asked.

The goblin hesitated before whispering, "Rin."

Kyle nodded. "Alright, Rin. I'm Kyle."

Rin shifted uncomfortably, looking at the ground.

Kyle didn't know what to do. He wasn't some hero, wasn't some noble warrior who took in strays. But he had been alone before. He knew what it felt like to have nothing and no one.

And this kid had lost everything.

"Come with me," he said finally.

Rin's head shot up. "W-What?"

"I don't have all the answers," Kyle admitted, "but I know one thing. The Black Legion isn't going to stop. If we stay here, we die. We need to move. Find a safe place."

Rin's small fingers clenched around a piece of cloth—probably a scrap from their parents' clothing. Then, slowly, the goblin nodded.

Kyle exhaled. "Alright. Then let's get the hell out of here."

Kyle led Rin away from the ruined village, keeping to the trees. His mind raced through possibilities. He had no map, no idea where the nearest settlement was. But he knew one thing. If the Black Legion was hunting him, they would come for him again.

The Land was cruel. It didn't give second chances. If Kyle wanted to survive, if he wanted to win, he had to start playing this world like it was meant to be played.

He had to take power, not wait for it to be given.

Rin moved silently beside him, small but quick, barely making a sound as they wove through the underbrush. The goblin child was used to hiding. That could be useful.

Kyle checked his stats again.

He was stronger than before, but he still wasn't enough.