"Oh, a ghost? Did you stinking brats think I was dead?" Vyn declared, his voice dripping with annoyance, his brow furrowed in evident irritation.
The dim light of the room seemed to flicker in synchrony with his turbulent emotions. Even though he had made a snap decision to sacrifice himself to save his companions in a dire moment, it was an impulse driven more by the overwhelming despair of his own pathetic existence than any heroic intent.
On any ordinary day, the very idea of self-sacrifice would have been laughable to him. Now, reflecting on it, Vyn couldn't grasp what had possessed him to put his life on the line for them, especially since self-preservation had always been his priority.
And to think they had so quickly concluded he was dead? They were junior members of the 'mighty' Ironclad Union, with whom he had battled side by side in numerous dungeon. Didn't they realize that despite him being weak, he was as tenacious as a cockroach? The very thought that they had resigned themselves to his demise so hastily was a stinging blow to his ego. It suggested they didn't regard him highly at all.
"Y… you!" Dorian, emerging from the crowd, pointed at Vyn with fingers that trembled like leaves in a storm. "I don't believe it. How did you survive?" His voice cracked under the weight of his shock, his eyes wide with disbelief.
'Tch. This brat!'
Vyn clicked his tongue in silent annoyance. Wasn't this the very idiot who had been hell-bent on tackling the monster with him back in the dungeon, as if it were some grand contest? Why was he, of all people, acting so astonished at Vyn's return? Or was his bravery back then nothing more than a facade?
Just then, a girl stepped out from the crowd, her presence cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. She walked straight up to Vyn and pinched him softly on the cheek. This simple act seemed to dissolve the crowd's skepticism, their tense expressions melting away to reveal smiles of relief and joy, as if their earlier disbelief was nothing but a distant memory.
"Vyn, he's back!"
"Oh, wow. He survived."
"But how is that possible? Has this brat been hiding his skills from us?"
Voices overlapped in a cacophony of disbelief and curiosity, turning the atmosphere into a buzzing hive of speculation and chatter.
"You bunch of ingrates! Is this how you welcome back your captain from the jaws of death, especially after I threw myself in harm's way to save your sorry skins?" Vyn's voice thundered, his anger boiling over like a tempest.
"Captain, my ass. Your month is almost up, and let's face it, our performance under your so-called 'leadership' has been nothing short of mediocre, except for your momentary heroism that we'll remember for ages—not that it makes up for everything else," a thin figure retorted sharply. His gaunt appearance, with a jaw partially sunken and hollow eyes, made him look almost ghostly. His tone was laced with resentment, reflecting his deep-seated displeasure at Vyn's temporary command.
"You wretch. It's not like you've done any better. And besides, why didn't any of you inform the seniors? So they could rescue me, perhaps? Is this how devoid of compassion the Ironclad Union has become?" Vyn shot back furiously, his words slicing through the air like a blade.
Hearing Vyn's seething words, Melissa, who had playfully pinched his cheek earlier, quickly spoke up in their defense. "Vyn, we did inform the seniors about it, but right now, they are deep in training for a B-rank dungeon raid. They said they couldn't just abandon their preparation. You know our guild has fallen several places in the rankings these past few months. The seniors are really working hard to climb back up."
"Working hard my ass!" Vyn blurted out angrily, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Vyn couldn't see why the so-called seniors in the guild would care about one less 'weakling' among them. It seemed all they did was take away the loot hard-earned by others, claiming it was for the guild's growth. But beyond that, they offered nothing worthwhile. Vyn was sure they wouldn't come to his rescue even if they had the time—so what was with all their lame excuses?
These bitter thoughts made his blood boil whenever he thought about the guild. Unable to stand it any longer, he stormed off to his room, ignoring Melissa's voice calling after him, full of worry and confusion. He was too caught up in his own anger to listen.
He entered his small but surprisingly airy room and locked the door. Exhausted, Vyn fell onto his bed and sleep overcame him almost instantly.
It might have been the recent battles that wore him out physically, but the mental stress and the shocks he had faced were also crushing. As sleep took over, he drifted into a vulnerable, deep slumber.
When Vyn woke up the next day, it seemed like only moments had passed. Stretching out slowly, he felt an unexpected refreshment fill him. It was the best sleep he'd had in a long time, which puzzled him. Ever since he'd arrived at this relentless battlefield, truly restful sleep had been a rare luxury.
Now, feeling surprisingly refreshed, Vyn was also a bit confused. He couldn't remember any of his dreams—it was as if he'd jumped through time, waking up hours later with no memory of the night.
Vyn sighed heavily. His life had been full of weird events lately. He knew if he kept thinking about every strange thing that happened, he'd go mad.
With just a thought, he summoned the system window before his eyes. He had gotten the hang of calling up and dismissing this odd system with his mind—a handy skill.
Despite his control over it, Vyn still found it hard to believe he had gained such a peculiar system when he really needed it. Was this a special ability, or just a strange fluke? History had never mentioned anyone having a 'system' that could give someone like him what seemed like divine powers.
This startling revelation only intensified the mystery surrounding the system, revealing layers and hidden complexities that Vyn was just beginning to uncover. Up to this point, his life had been a painful journey marked by constant humiliation and disdain; he had often been cast aside as worthless by those who overlooked his supposed lack of skills. Yet, Vyn had no urge to resist this strange new twist in his life. In fact, the system might even turn out to be the key to transforming his entire story.
However, the notion of treating the system as some kind of god was where Vyn drew a firm line. He could tolerate the system's mocking tone, which seemed to take perverse joy in his ongoing distress—almost as if it took a dark delight in his challenges. But to actually worship it as a deity? That idea was absurd—far beyond what Vyn could ever accept.
With another deep, resigned sigh, Vyn recalled the stats the system had shown him earlier. As if in response to his thoughts, the display on the system window flickered briefly before updating, presenting a newly refreshed set of character details:
Character Information:
Name: Vyn Aethelred
- Level: 2
- Title: One Who Overcame The Impossible
- Class: Warrior
Attributes
- Health: 87%
- Spiritual Energy: 10/10
- Mana: 0/0
- Stamina: 8
- Strength: 9
- Dexterity: 5
- Vitality: 1
- Intelligence: 12
- Senses: 2
Skills: Finger Of Light lv1
Abilities: Boundless Light
[Host has 12 stat points remaining]
"Hm…?"
Vyn's gaze landed on a small note at the bottom of his stats screen, catching his eye. It was about something called 'stat points.'
Curious, he tapped on the note, and a new screen popped up with details:
[Stat points: These are rewards from the system for the Host's contributions to a victory in battle. Host can use these points to boost their stats. However, not all stats can be increased with stat points.]
Vyn was rather taken aback to see he had actually earned a stat point from his recent battle in the dungeon. But the joy was short-lived. The displayed stat point seemed insultingly small given the strength of the monster he had defeated. A cloud of disappointment hovered over him, dampening his spirits.
"System, you're really something," Vyn grumbled under his breath, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Why such a measly stat point for taking down a beast as tough as an A-rank? At this rate, would I even get anything for killing regular monsters in the future?"
His words were barely a whisper, yet the system was quick to respond:
[Stat points are calculated based on the Host's total contribution to killing the monster.]
[Host contributed minimally to the battle with the monster and was merely fortunate to defeat it in its weakened state.]
Vyn's frustration turned to bafflement as he read the system's blunt response…