"Wait a moment," Hanuman said suddenly, his voice cutting through the haze of pain. He moved towards Edge with a grace that defied logic. His steps were deliberate, each one slow and measured, and yet there was an underlying speed to his movements that Edge could barely comprehend. It was as if Hanuman existed in multiple realities at once, his very presence bending the laws of physics.
To Edge, the god's movements seemed slow, almost lazy, and yet there was a sense of something far greater beneath the surface. Hanuman's steps rippled through space, each one a paradox of speed and lethargy, as if the universe itself struggled to keep up with his presence.
When Hanuman reached out and touched Edge's forehead with a single finger, the effect was instantaneous. The crushing weight that had been suffocating Edge evaporated, leaving him feeling light and free. His mind, which had been clouded with fear and pain, cleared in an instant.
"That's better," Hanuman chuckled softly, his voice a soothing balm after the torment Edge had just endured. "I sometimes forget the extent of my powers."
With the oppressive aura gone, Edge could finally take a proper look at the deity before him. Hanuman was a figure straight out of myth—tall and imposing, with muscles carved from divine stone. His skin was a shimmering gold, radiating an inner light that seemed to pulse with life. His black hair flowed like a waterfall down his back, and his eyes were pools of infinite wisdom and power.
Edge's gaze traveled down to Hanuman's attire, and he did a double take. The god was dressed in a tuxedo—a perfectly tailored, jet-black suit that contrasted sharply with his divine appearance. It was such a bizarre sight that Edge almost laughed out loud.
"Something amusing, young one?" Hanuman asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Edge shook his head, trying to compose himself. "I… No, Lord."
"Ah, the tuxedo," Hanuman said, noticing Edge's reaction. "I like to keep up with the times, you see. The old ways are all well and good, but there's something about modern attire that speaks to me.
"Edge had no idea how to respond to that, so he simply nodded, still trying to process everything that was happening.
"But let's not get sidetracked," Hanuman continued, his tone growing serious once more.
"There is much to discuss, my legatee. I am dissatisfied with your progress. Your generation, it seems, needs everything spoon-fed. So be it—that is what I will do."
A wave of Hanuman's hand, and a swirling light engulfed Edge. He felt something shift within him, a deep, fundamental change that left him feeling hollow. His second class—the Chef subclass—was gone, along with all the skills that had come with it.
"Cooking is an honorable profession," Hanuman said, his voice thoughtful. "But it limits you. You are not confined to my powers alone. I was the son of Vayu, the Wind God. You too can inherit his powers, should you prove yourself worthy. But this path requires sacrifice.
"Another wave of the god's hand, and Edge felt his magic drain away, leaving him empty and powerless. The loss was immediate and profound, like a part of his very soul had been ripped away. Panic flared in his chest, and for the first time, Edge found his voice.
"Why my magic?" he protested, his voice trembling. "All my skills rely on it. How can I grow now?"
Hanuman's gaze softened slightly, and he nodded, acknowledging Edge's fear. "Your demon servant, Ragnarok," Hanuman said, his tone contemplative. " He is a being of immense strength, yet he possesses no magic and never will. However, he continues to grow stronger, relying solely on his own makeshift strength, his resilience, and his unyielding will. There is much you can learn from him if you only pay attention."
Edge mulled over Hanuman's words, trying to make sense of them. The idea of losing his magic terrified him. It had been a core part of his abilities, the foundation upon which he had built his strength. Without it, he felt vulnerable, like a warrior stripped of his armor in the midst of battle.
But deep down, Edge knew that Hanuman's words were true. Ragnarok was a formidable force in his own right, and he had achieved that power without relying on magic. Perhaps there was another path, one that didn't depend on the arcane but on something more intrinsic—his own physical prowess, his stamina, his sheer willpower.
"It's always for the greater good," Edge whispered to himself, repeating the mantra that had kept him sane through the most harrowing trials. "Whatever happens, happens for a reason."
"Precisely," Hanuman said, his voice cutting through Edge's thoughts. "Your strength and stamina will replace your magic. In time, you will forge your own Legacy, one that may even surpass mine. I understand that this is a heavy burden, and I should not have taken these steps without your consent. Yet, I do so for your own betterment."
Edge felt a mix of emotions—frustration, fear, but also a strange sense of anticipation. Hanuman's words were both a curse and a blessing. He was being stripped of what he had known, but in return, he was being offered something greater—a chance to surpass even the gods, to carve out a path that was uniquely his.
"Let me tell you what awaits you," Hanuman continued, his tone becoming more instructive. "As I said, your generation needs spoon-feeding, so here is what you must understand: You can no longer use magic in the conventional sense. Your powers will now draw upon your stamina. This will apply to any wind powers you acquire in the future, or any other powers you may gain. Therefore, your focus should be on increasing your physical power, your endurance, your ability to withstand and overcome any challenge."
Hanuman paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. Edge could feel the truth in them, a deep, resonating truth that settled into the very core of his being.
"And I too must apologize," Hanuman said, his tone softening. "I expected too much from you too soon. There are restrictions in place now, but I will grant you a reprieve. For one day a week—Sunday—you will be free to use all of your powers, without limitation. Whether for good or ill, you may act as you see fit. Sometimes, war is the only way to pave the path for righteousness."
Edge listened intently, absorbing every word. The idea of a day without restrictions was tempting, a chance to unleash his full potential. But the rest of the week—he would need to adapt, to survive without the crutches he had once relied on.
"For the rest of the week," Hanuman continued, "you will be bound by a new rule: You cannot kill anyone who is weaker than you. This is not a suggestion but a command. I am not truly here in my full form—this is merely a specter, a fragment of my essence, sent to guide you through this rank-up quest. But know this, Edge—everything I do, I do to prepare you for the challenges that lie ahead.".
Edge nodded, his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. He had come so far, yet it felt like the journey was only just beginning. The weight of Hanuman's expectations was immense, but so was the opportunity that lay before him.
"And now," Hanuman said, a smile touching his lips, "for my parting gift. I will enhance your system. This is my final blessing to you, my legatee. Use it well."
With those words, Hanuman began to fade, his form dissolving into a shower of light. Edge felt a surge of energy within him, his system awakening with new possibilities. He quickly accessed his status panel, and his eyes widened at the changes.
His second class was gone, along with the associated skills, but in its place was something entirely new—a customized status panel that seemed to resonate with his very soul. His strength and stamina had been amplified, and his potential for growth was now limitless, bound only by his own determination.
Edge took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his new reality. He was no longer just a player in a game—he was a living, breathing force, a being destined to forge a Legacy that could rival the gods themselves.
As Hanuman's final light faded into the distance, Edge stood alone in the ethereal realm, a mixture of fear and exhilaration coursing through his veins. He had been stripped of much, but in return, he had been given the chance to become something far greater.
The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges and dangers he could not yet comprehend. But Edge knew one thing for sure—he would rise to meet them, with or without magic, with or without the safety of his old powers. He would carve out a new destiny, one that was his and his alone.
And as he prepared to step forward, to embark on this next stage of his journey, Edge felt a sense of calm settle over him. The darkness that had once surrounded him was gone, replaced by the light of possibility, the dawn of a new era.
He was ready.