"System,"
I asked,
"just how strong am I with 355.9 points strength and 344 points of speed?"
The system responded with its usual calm, mechanical voice.
"An average person's strength in your previous world is measured at 10 points, equating to the ability to carry approximately 50 kilograms. Their agility at 10 points translates to a running speed of 13 kilometers per hour and a striking speed of two strikes per second."
I did some quick mental math, trying to wrap my head around the numbers.
"So, what does that mean for me?"
The system continued,
"With a strength of 355.9, you are 35.5 times stronger than an average human. In practical terms, this means you could carry over 1,775 kilograms with ease. Your agility of 344 points means you are 34.4 times faster than an average human. Your movement speed is equivalent to approximately 447 kilometers per hour. Additionally, you can strike at a rate of 68 strikes per second."
I blinked, trying to absorb the enormity of those numbers.
"So, I'm basically a superhuman compared to the average person here."
"Precisely,"
the system affirmed.
Standing on the shore, I watched the waves crash against the rocks, their rhythmic motion oddly soothing. Beside me stood the high chief, his sightless eyes fixed on the same distant horizon.
"How is it,"
I asked,
"that you, a blind man, seem to see more than any of us?"
The high chief turned his head slightly towards me, a serene smile on his lips.
"The spirits have blessed me with a vision that transcends the ordinary. I see not with my eyes, but with my soul."
I nodded, trying to grasp the depth of his words.
"You mentioned that the spirits granted you a vision of the future. Can you tell me more about it?"
He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.
"The spirits revealed to me that a king will be born into this world, a king unlike any other. This king will rise from the shadows of a troubled past, gathering a mighty army from the farthest reaches. He will challenge gods, emperors, and other kings alike."
The chief paused, letting his words sink in before continuing.
"This king will not merely defend the weak. Instead, he will save them, empower them, and forge them into his strongest warriors. His influence will be profound, and he will alter the course of history."
A chill ran down my spine as I listened.
"Do you know who this person is?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
The high chief shook his head.
"I do not know his identity. All I know is that this king will change the world in ways we cannot yet imagine."
I smiled, a flicker of hope igniting within me.
"I hope that person will be born in this era, so that I might have the chance to meet him,hey old man I'm sure this king is really strong."
The high chief placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch surprisingly firm.
"Perhaps, Johnathan, you will be more involved in this prophecy than you realize."
In the some part of Hailzard, in a dank and ominous cave, the sinister buzzing of countless wings filled the air. Shadows flickered as the cave's inhabitants, monstrous insects, scuttled about, their movements quick and purposeful. Their leader, Krazukt, loomed over them, his grotesque form half-shrouded in darkness.
Krazukt's voice, a guttural hiss, echoed through the cave.
"Tonight, we feast on primeval flesh,"
he declared, his compound eyes gleaming with malice.
"Their ancient bodies are rich with nutrients that will make us stronger."
One of the insects, a smaller but equally vicious creature, chittered eagerly,
"The primevals' flesh will fortify us. Their strength will become ours."
Krazukt nodded, his mandibles clicking in anticipation.
"Yes, an ancient race such as theirs will provide a feast worthy of our kind. Leave nothing behind, not even their bones."
With that, Krazukt raised one of his spiny appendages, signaling the start of their assault. The insects surged forward, a mass of chitin and hunger, their collective mind set on one goal: the annihilation of the primeval tribe.
As the swarm moved with terrifying speed through the dark forest, the ground seemed to tremble beneath them. The path to the shores where the primeval tribe resided was now a harrowing march of death, their hideous intentions clear.
At the shore, the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon. Arkol and Ginniad, two of the tribe's rear guards, were on patrol. Ginniad stepped away to take a pee by a tree, muttering about the early morning chill.
Suddenly, he heard a rustle in the grass. Before he could react, something lunged at him, striking with lethal precision. Ginniad was cut in half diagonally lifeless, as the swarm of insects burst from the underbrush.
Arkol's heart pounded in his chest. He turned and sprinted back to the camp, shouting at the top of his lungs,
"Insects! They're coming! Everyone, get ready!"
The tribe erupted into action. Women and children were quickly ushered toward the shore, their faces etched with fear. The air was thick with tension and the buzzing of the approaching swarm.
Johnathan's system blared a red alert, jarring him into immediate action. His flow state activated, sharpening his senses. He grabbed his sword, every muscle in his body coiled and ready.
The high chief, his face stern, called out to Lemes, one of his strongest warriors.
"Lemes, take everyone to the shore. We need to buy time."
Lemes protested,
"Chief, there's still two days left to break the seal!"
The high chief's eyes were resolute.
"We can accelerate the process, but it will cost us... my life force will be enough."
Lemes' eyes widened in horror.
"You can't! You'll die if you do that!"
The high chief placed a hand on Lemes' shoulder.
"I've lived a long life, Lemes. I've no regrets. My duty is to my people, and this is the best way I can serve them now."
Lemes struggled with the decision but finally nodded, tears welling in his eyes.
"Who will lead us?"
The high chief smiled gently.
"You will. I give you my blessings to lead our people to safety."
Lemes, now bearing the weight of leadership, rallied the tribe.
"Everyone to the shore! Move quickly!"
As the tribe hurried towards their escape, the high chief and his shamans began the ritual to break the seal, pouring their life force into the ancient magic. The air crackled with energy, and the high chief's resolve shone brightly, even as his strength waned.
The high chief and his shamans worked tirelessly to break the seal, their chants resonating with an ancient power. Beside them, Lebuna led the women and children, preparing to board the large boat. Behind them, the warriors stood ready, forming a protective barrier with Johnathan at the forefront.
As the insects landed in front of them, a fierce clash erupted between the two races. Johnathan marveled at the primevals' strength, especially Lemes, who could take down five insects at once. Despite the chaos, Johnathan's focus was razor-sharp, easily cutting through the insect ranks.
Krazukt, watching the battle from a distance, noted Johnathan's terrifying aura. Realizing the threat, he devised a plan to trap the strongest warriors and leave the women and children vulnerable. With a sinister grin, Krazukt opened a creepy portal on the ground, engulfing many primevals and insects, including Johnathan and Lemes.
As they fell, Johnathan's fear for the tribe heightened his cerebral functions, unlocking his adrenaline mode. His speed and strength surged to astonishing levels. He grabbed each falling primeval with blinding speed, hurling them back to the shore, ensuring their safety. When he reached Lemes, he thrust his rusty sword into his hands.
"Use it to protect them! It took down a stone giant; it will help you now!" Johnathan shouted, his voice filled with urgency.
Lemes, clutching the sword, nodded. "What about you?"
"Don't worry about me,"
Johnathan replied with a determined smile.
"I'll definitely come back for you all."
I landed hard on icy ground, the cold seeping through my clothes. As I got to my feet, I realized I was in a vast underground cavern, the walls glistening with ice. The air was frigid, and the walls were alive with the chittering of countless insects preparing to attack.
Krazukt's voice echoed through the cavern.
"Your efforts are futile, Boy. You might have saved the warriors to protect your tribe, but I've already sent a second wave to crush them. And here, alone, you are nothing."
I kept my expression calm, unfazed by his threats.
"I admit,"
I replied evenly,
"I'm not strong enough to beat you right now. The system told me so."
Krazukt's laughter reverberated around me, but I continued, a steely resolve in my voice.
"But your army here will be the ones to make me strong enough... No, they'll make me too powerful for you to handle."
The system interface popped up in front of me, displaying the shop. I had earned 1,000 gold coins from the stone giant I slayed. The system recommended that I purchase a high-temperature weapon, something that would exploit the insects' weakness to fire.
I scanned the options and selected the Heat Dagger, costing 800 gold coins. Its description promised a blade that could reach searing temperatures, perfect for slicing through these icy creatures. With the remaining coins, I bought an ordinary long, one-edged sword for 100 gold.
Equipped and ready, I looked around at the encroaching horde.
"Come at me,"
I said, my voice a low growl.
"I'll kill you all."
The first wave of insects lunged at me, and I swung my new weapons, the Heat Dagger blazing through their icy exoskeletons with ease. Each strike added to my strength and agility, the prime human gift working overtime. My movements became a blur of fire and steel, every kill making me faster, stronger.
As I swung my weapons, the memories of my past life flooded back—being a loser to my bullies, betrayed by peers, mocked by everyone I trusted. The rage I had buried deep inside began to surface. With each strike, I felt a twisted sense of redemption. A manic grin spread across my face, my eyes wide with fury.
"This feeling... it's redemption! Hahaha!"
I shouted, my voice echoing through the cavern.
The fight became a blur of motion. Insects fell by the dozen, and my strength and agility surged with each kill. It was a fast-paced, action-packed battle, and it was quickly turning one-sided. The system kept updating my stats as I fought, the numbers climbing steadily.
**Strength:**
- 359.6
- 364
- 370
- 378
- 389
- 400
**Agility:**
- 348
- 355
- 361
- 369
- 377
- 388
- 397
With each swing, each strike, I felt myself growing more powerful. The presence of flames danced around me, a combination of my physical prowess and the Heat Dagger's fire abilities. Insects burned and fell before me, unable to withstand the onslaught.
I crouched, preparing for the next wave. One knee bent, the other leg extended for balance. My arms were poised to wield the sword and dagger with lethal precision. With one hand gripping the hilt of the dagger and the other supporting the blade of the sword, I sprang into action, delivering powerful strikes with astonishing speed.
Insects were cleaved in half, their bodies burning from the heat of my dagger. My movements were a deadly dance, a combination of raw strength and blinding speed. The cavern filled with the sound of my laughter, mingling with the shrieks of the dying insects.
Krazukt's voice, once filled with confidence, now trembled with uncertainty.
"What... what are you?"
he asked, his voice barely audible over the chaos.
I didn't bother to respond. I was lost in the battle, in the thrill of growing stronger with each enemy I felled. I was no longer the weak, bullied kid from my past life. Here, in this frozen hell, I was becoming something else—something unstoppable.
My movements blurred as I tore through the insects, each strike making me faster and stronger. The end of the cavern, where Krazukt awaited, drew nearer with every step. My heart pounded with a mix of rage and exhilaration.
Finally, I saw him—Krazukt. His eyes widened in fear as he took in my appearance, my light-colored eyes glowing with a dark aura, my burning dagger held high.
His voice trembled.
"You... you're filled with the same rage as Hardes."
I didn't respond. With a swift motion, I charged at Krazukt, my blade slicing through the air. He barely managed to dodge, his body recoiling in fear. He fought back, releasing poison shots from his tentacles, but I dodged them effortlessly, my blade cutting through his limbs with precision.
Krazukt tried to keep up with my speed, his malice magic swirling around us. His armor seemed impenetrable, his confidence growing as my strikes glanced off its surface. But I used this arrogance against him, attacking relentlessly, each strike adding to my strength and agility.
**Strength:**
- 410
- 420
- 430
**Agility:**
- 407
- 417
- 427
Each hit on his armor built my power. I could feel the energy coursing through me, my strikes growing in intensity. Krazukt's confidence began to waver as he realized what I was doing.
"You... you can't defeat me!"
he snarled, his voice laced with desperation.
But it was too late. I had gathered enough strength and agility. With a final, powerful strike, I shattered his armor, my burning dagger plunging into his chest. Krazukt let out a scream of agony as his body disintegrated, leaving nothing but ash.
I stood there, breathing heavily, the cavern silent except for the crackling of the flames on my dagger. I had done it. I had destroyed Krazukt
Back at the shore, the primevals continued their fierce defense against the relentless swarm of insects. Lemes led the charge, his sword slicing through the air with precision. The ground was littered with the remains of fallen insects, but the cost had been high—many primevals had also been lost.
With half of the insect army taken by Krazukt to confront Johnatan in the caverns, the primevals had managed to gain an advantage, but it was tenuous. The air was thick with tension, and the scent of blood and sweat mingled with the salty sea breeze.
Lemes wiped blood from his brow, his eyes scanning the battlefield.
"We can hold them off,"
he muttered to himself, trying to reassure his warriors.
"We just need to—"
Suddenly, the high chief, who was in the midst of breaking the seal at the borders, felt a surge of fear grip his heart. His hands trembled as he channeled his life force into the seal, his vision clouded with dread. He looked up, eyes wide with horror, and screamed,
"Above you!"
Lemes snapped his head upward just in time to see the sky darken with a massive swarm of flying insects, even larger and more numerous than the first wave. Their wings buzzed ominously as they descended upon the tribe.
The entire primeval force grew anxious, their earlier confidence shaken. The sheer size of this second wave dwarfed the previous assault. The warriors tightened their grips on their weapons, preparing for the worst. Fear was palpable, but they stood their ground, ready to protect their people.
Lebuna, who had been leading the women and children to safety, immediately strengthened the barrier surrounding them. Her hands glowed with a faint light as she poured her magic into the protective shield, her face set in grim determination.
"We can't let them break through!"
Lemes shouted, rallying his warriors.
"Hold the line!"
The primevals took their battle stances, weapons at the ready. The swarm of insects descended upon them, and the air was filled with the sounds of clashing metal, buzzing wings, and the cries of battle.
The air was thick with the anticipation of battle as the second wave of insects descended upon the primevals. Lemes, standing at the forefront, drew the sword that Johnatan had entrusted to him. Its blade gleamed in the dim light, carrying with it the weight of hope and desperation.
"Hold the line!"
Lemes shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos as he steadied his stance. Around him, the other warriors prepared themselves, weapons raised, eyes fixed on the approaching swarm.
Meanwhile, Lebuna was at the rear, her hands glowing with ethereal light as she cast a protective barrier over the women and children. The barrier shimmered, a translucent dome that pulsed with energy, standing as the tribe's last defense against the horrors that threatened to overwhelm them.
At the edge of the battlefield, the high chief knelt by the border seal, his body trembling as he poured the last of his life force into breaking it. Cracks spiderwebbed across the seal's surface, each fissure a testament to his weakening state. His vision blurred, and he could feel his strength fading, but he pressed on, driven by the need to protect his people.
In the heart of the battle, the primeval warriors, including Lemes, found themselves being overwhelmed by the relentless swarm. The insects, undeterred by their earlier losses, attacked with renewed ferocity, their numbers seemingly endless.
Just as it seemed that the tide of battle was turning against them, a golden aura began to envelop each of the warriors. The air crackled with energy as the primevals accessed their primordial power, a gift from their ancient ancestors that granted them unparalleled strength and resilience.
Lemes' eyes blazed with determination as he felt the energy surge through him. With a roar, he raised his sword high, the blade glowing with a golden light.
"Great Grader Bast!"
he bellowed, unleashing a devastating skill that sent shockwaves through the battlefield.
The ground shook as the energy from his attack maimed multiple insects at once, their bodies disintegrating under the force of his blow. Inspired by their leader, the other warriors followed suit, their golden auras flaring as they pushed back against the swarm.
The primevals fought with renewed vigor, their weapons slicing through the air with blinding speed. The insects, once a seemingly unstoppable force, began to falter under the onslaught. Inch by inch, the warriors pushed them back, reclaiming the ground they had lost.
The battlefield was awash with the sounds of battle, the clash of weapons against chitinous armor, and the cries of the primevals as they fought desperately against the overwhelming insect swarm. The air crackled with the raw energy of the primordial forces, both sides drawing upon the ancient power that coursed through their veins.
Kireshaz, the leader of the second wave of insects, stood tall amidst the chaos, his form now grotesquely altered by the primordial energy. His body had transformed into a monstrous shape, with extra limbs and a twisted, armored exoskeleton that pulsed with malevolent power. Around him, the other insects had similarly evolved, their bodies shifting into more fearsome forms, their speed and strength amplified to terrifying levels.
"Foolish primevals,"
Kireshaz hissed, his voice echoing with a deep, unnatural resonance.
"You believed yourselves to be the only ones who could harness the primordial energy, but we, too, are a primordial race. We were born from the same ancient power that gave you life, and now, we will use it to end you."
The primevals were taken aback by this revelation. Their belief in their unique connection to the primordial energy had been a cornerstone of their identity. But now, to see their enemies wielding the same power, turning it against them, was a shattering blow.
Despite their efforts, the primevals were being overwhelmed. The insects, now stronger and faster, were systematically eliminating the warriors, ganging up on them in brutal, coordinated attacks. One by one, the primeval defenders fell, their numbers dwindling rapidly.
At the edge of the battlefield, the high chief and the shamans were frantically working to break the seal that would allow their escape. But as the final crack appeared in the seal, the high chief's strength gave out. He had sacrificed everything—his life force, his very essence—to give his people a chance to survive. Without a word, he collapsed, his body lifeless, his spirit finally at rest.
As the shamans cast their final spell, three large, hard wooden boats emerged from the waters, their surfaces glistening in the dim light. Lebuna, who had been watching over the women and children, immediately ordered them to run to the boats.
"Go! Get to the boats!"
she commanded, her voice firm despite the fear in her heart. She instructed the shamans to protect them, knowing that their survival was now the tribe's only hope.
But before they could even take a step, the insects moved with blinding speed, their newfound power allowing them to block the tribe's path to the boats. The battle came to a sudden halt as Kireshaz raised a hand, signaling his forces to stop. The primevals were now cornered, surrounded on all sides by the monstrous insect army.
"There is no escape,"
Kireshaz declared, his voice dripping with malice.
"You have two choices: become our slaves or be consumed."
To drive his point home, Kireshaz approached the fallen body of the high chief. With a sickening display of dominance, he began to devour the lifeless body, his sharp mandibles tearing through flesh and bone. The primevals watched in horror as their leader, the one who had guided them for so long, was desecrated in such a brutal manner.
Lemes, standing at the front of the remaining warriors, could do nothing but watch, his heart heavy with despair. He glanced back at the crying children, the injured warriors, and the helpless women. His mind raced, torn between the urge to fight and the crushing reality of their situation. As he closed his eyes, struggling to find the strength to continue, only one thought came to him: they must fight until the end.
But as Lemes prepared to make his final stand, something changed. The insects, who had been so confident in their victory, suddenly began to tremble, their fear palpable. Even Kireshaz, who had been relishing his dominance, felt an unfamiliar chill.
Lemes opened his eyes and followed their gaze, looking towards the mountain from which they had descended. There, standing tall against the backdrop of the dawn, was a silhouette. The figure was unmistakable—Johnatan.
He stood with one knee bent, his left forearm resting on it, while his right hand held a burning dagger that flickered with an ominous flame. The air around him seemed to crackle with energy, a dark aura that radiated power and fury. From his distant vantage point, Johnatan gazed down at the battlefield, his expression unreadable, but his presence undeniable.
The insects, sensing the raw power emanating from Johnatan, instinctively recoiled, their confidence shattered. Kireshaz, for the first time, felt a deep, primal fear that he could not explain.