I stood atop an endless ocean of decaying Revenants, the lifeless husks of what were once my enemies stretching as far as my weary eyes could see. Their grotesque forms squirmed slightly, not alive but refusing to truly die, their last breaths whistling through shattered throats.
"That should be the last one," I muttered, my voice flat, devoid of triumph or relief. It wasn't exhaustion that dulled me—at least not physical. My body felt fine, even powerful. It was the kind of tiredness that seeped into your soul, gnawed at your mind until you felt nothing but numb.
Beneath my boot, the final Revenant writhed, its gnarled hands twitching feebly. I looked down, my expression stone-cold, as though staring at a broken piece of furniture. This wasn't cathartic. It wasn't even satisfying.
With a practiced motion, I drove my spear through its skull. It squealed, the sound fading into silence as its grotesque life snuffed out.
[Gained 1 Mastery Point!]
The notification blinked in front of me, bright and mocking. "One point, huh? Guess I should send a thank-you note to the system for its generosity." My tone dripped with sarcasm. Once upon a time, mastery points had felt like progress. Now they were scraps thrown at a dog that had outlived its usefulness.
"I get it," I said to no one in particular, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "The Revenants are too weak for me now. Guess grinding is pointless."
I yanked my spear from the Revenant's skull, the blade slick with dark ichor. A splash of foul-smelling fluid stained the ground as I pulled it free. Once, the sight might've made me sick. Now, it was as normal as the sunrise.
How long had it been since this nightmare started? Fifty years, give or take. I'd stopped keeping track after year thirty. Time didn't matter here, anyway. I had survived fifty years in this hell, though "survived" was a generous term.
The world had been overtaken by nature, with grass and wildlife reclaiming every inch. Modernity had vanished, leaving behind a strangely serene landscape.
[Name: Lance]
[Level: 1]
[Mana: None]
[Skills: Truepoint Thrust]
[Special Talent: Weapon Mastery]
[Class: Spearman]
[Titles: Survivor]
I glanced at the floating system screen, its cold, mechanical precision a sharp contrast to the chaos of my thoughts. The only thing that ever seemed to update was my spear mastery.
[Spear Mastery: LvL 48]
Forty-eight. The culmination of fifty years of relentless, grueling practice. My Thrust had evolved over time, becoming sharper, deadlier, more precise.
[Truepoint Thrust:
A perfectly targeted thrust that never wavers from its mark.]
"Perfectly targeted," I muttered, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "A skill I've perfected against enemies that barely even fight back anymore. Real useful."
I didn't feel accomplished. I felt... hollow. My muscles were carved from stone, I'd gained inches and my endurance was superhuman, but inside, I was a husk. If I had to guess, I looked somewhere in my twenties, maybe early thirties. In reality? I was over seventy now. Seventy years of surviving this godforsaken world.
But survival wasn't living. Not really.
I wiped my spear clean and began the long trudge back to my base—a dilapidated convenience store I'd turned into a home. It wasn't much, but it was better than sleeping in the open.
That's when I saw it. The Gate of Traversy.
Its massive golden gates shimmered with a divine glow, its intricate carvings radiating an aura of both power and peace. It appeared every time I cleared the Revenants. It was a promise, a beacon of hope—and the cruelest joke in existence.
To open it, I needed mana. And I had none.
The system had seen to that. The great "Survivor," blessed with no mana, no flashy abilities, and no way to escape.
The Gate mocked me, its holy light bathing me in an aura that felt suffocating rather than comforting. I approached it slowly, my spear in hand.
"Just once," I whispered. "Let me through. Just this once."
I pushed against the gates, every muscle in my body straining as veins bulged and sweat poured from my brow. But it didn't budge.
[Error 001: Cannot open Gates. Insufficient mana.]
The message floated before me like a taunt. My lips twisted into a humorless smile. "Yeah, no kidding. Thanks for the reminder."
I turned to leave, the familiar weight of defeat settling on my shoulders. But then... I stopped.
Why was I giving up so easily?
I turned back to the Gates, my jaw tightening, my grip on the spear turning white-knuckled. I wasn't a quitter. I'd survived for fifty years in this hellhole. I'd endured pain, loneliness, and madness.
And I wasn't about to let some glowing door tell me no.
I did the only thing that had kept me alive for all these years. With a roar, I thrust my spear at the Gate. The impact sent a jolt up my arms, the spear bouncing harmlessly off the surface.
[Error 001: Cannot enter the Gates. Stop trying.]
I thrust again. And again. Each strike was met with the same error message. The system's tone seemed to change, almost as if it were pleading.
[Error 001: You are too weak. Please stop.]
[Error 001: Please Stop.]
[Error 001: You Are Too Weak.]
[Error 001: Stay In Your World.]
"Too weak?" I barked a laugh. "You think I've survived this long just to be told I'm too weak? Screw you!"
Strike after strike, I poured every ounce of frustration, anger, and despair into my attacks. The Gate didn't budge, but cracks began to form, faint and spiderweb-thin.
[Error 001: Please stop. You'll die if you go through.]
The system was panicking. Good. It should panic.
"Good!" I barked, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Let them try! I've already been destroyed once. What's a second time?"
Sweat dripped down my face, mixing with the grime and blood. My body begged for rest, but I refused to stop. Not now. Not when I was so close.
My arms burned, my lungs felt like they would collapse, but I didn't stop. Hours turned into days, the Gate's glow dimming with each strike.
Finally, as dawn's light—or what passed for it in this world—broke over the horizon, I saw it. A fissure ran down the center of the Gate, its holy aura flickering.
This was it. My last chance.
[Passive Survival Buffs is temporarily being activated..]
[Adrenaline, Stamina Boost, Health Recovery]
I gathered every ounce of strength, leaning back with my spear. Memories of the life I wanted—the life I deserved—flashed before my eyes.
A warm home. A wife with a big ass, huge boobs and who could cook, maybe laugh at my miserable jokes. Kids who didn't think their old man was a failure.
"I am a survivor!" I roared, lunging forward with everything I had.
The spear struck true, the Gate shattering into a thousand golden shards.
The system appeared once more.
[This isn't supposed to be possible]