The cool night air carried the faint smell of woodsmoke and tension as Leonard Eldridge crouched behind a cluster of dry, brittle shrubs. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to breathe evenly, gripping the hilt of the short sword he had borrowed from Torran's forge. The weapon felt heavy in his hand, more foreign than reassuring.
Ahead of him, across the clearing, the faint glow of a campfire illuminated a ragged group of men—bandits. They lounged around the fire, laughing and boasting as they tore into stolen bread and dried meat. A wooden cart stood nearby, its contents scattered: sacks of grain, tools, and a barrel that likely contained water or ale.
"Six of them," Garret whispered, crouching beside Leo. The militia leader's voice was low and steady, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "They're better armed than we are."
Leo glanced back at the handful of villagers who had accompanied them. Garret had managed to scrape together four able-bodied men, all armed with mismatched weapons and battered shields. None of them looked confident.
Leo's gaze returned to the bandits. This was his first real test as Duke of Elandria, and the stakes were painfully clear. If they failed, the bandits would ransack the village, taking what little the people had left.
"Do we have a plan, Your Grace?" Garret asked, his tone skeptical.
Leo hesitated. He was no warrior, and the thought of charging into battle made his stomach churn. But he had spent the previous night thinking about this moment, imagining what he would do. He knew he couldn't rely on brute strength—he had none. But strategy? That, he could manage.
"We can't take them head-on," Leo whispered. "Not with what we have."
Garret raised an eyebrow. "Then what do you suggest?"
Leo pointed to the scattered supplies near the bandits' cart. "We need to draw them away from the camp. If we can separate them, we'll have the advantage."
He quickly outlined his plan. Two of the villagers would sneak around the perimeter, creating a distraction by toppling one of the barrels. When the bandits investigated, Garret and the remaining militia members would ambush them. Leo, meanwhile, would use the chaos to retrieve the cart and any supplies they could carry.
"It's risky," Garret muttered.
"It's the best we've got," Leo replied.
Garret nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Let's move."
The group split up, moving silently through the dry grass. Leo's heart raced as he positioned himself behind a cluster of boulders near the cart. From his vantage point, he could see the bandits laughing and arguing, oblivious to the danger creeping closer.
A loud crash shattered the stillness.
"What the hell was that?" one of the bandits barked, leaping to his feet.
"Over there!" another shouted, pointing toward the shadows where the barrel had toppled.
Three of the bandits grabbed their weapons and strode toward the noise, leaving the others behind to guard the camp.
Garret and his men struck swiftly, their weapons clanging against the bandits' blades. The sounds of the skirmish echoed through the clearing, drawing the attention of the remaining bandits.
Now's my chance, Leo thought.
Leo darted toward the cart, keeping low to avoid being seen. He began gathering the scattered supplies, his hands trembling as he worked. The sound of clashing steel and shouted curses filled his ears, but he forced himself to focus.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
Leo froze. One of the bandits had spotted him, a brutish man with a wicked scar running down his cheek.
Before Leo could react, the bandit lunged at him with a rusted axe. Leo barely managed to raise his sword in time, the force of the blow nearly knocking him off his feet.
"Looks like we've got a little noble playing hero," the bandit sneered, swinging again.
Leo scrambled backward, his movements clumsy and desperate. The bandit's next strike missed by inches, the blade slamming into the ground with a dull thud.
Garret's voice rang out. "Leo, behind you!"
Spinning around, Leo saw another bandit charging at him, a dagger glinting in the firelight. Instinct took over. He gripped his sword with both hands and swung wildly, the blade catching the bandit's arm. The man howled in pain, stumbling back.
It wasn't a clean strike, but it was enough.
"Hold the line!" Garret shouted, rallying the militia.
As the fight raged on, a strange sensation rippled through the air. The hairs on Leo's arms stood on end, and a low hum began to resonate, growing louder with each passing second.
"What's happening?" one of the villagers shouted, panic in his voice.
Above the clearing, the sky seemed to tear apart. A crack of swirling, iridescent energy split the air, its chaotic light illuminating the battlefield. Everyone—bandits and villagers alike—froze, their eyes fixed on the unnatural phenomenon.
The hum grew into a deafening roar, and the crack expanded, tendrils of energy lashing out like living things.
Leo felt the ground shift beneath him. A surge of power pulled at his chest, drawing him toward the crack.
"Leo!" Garret shouted, reaching out to grab him.
But it was too late.
The energy enveloped Leo, and the world around him dissolved into a kaleidoscope of light and shadow.
The chaotic pull of the crack had left Leo disoriented, his breath shallow and unsteady as he staggered to his feet. His boots touched down on something solid, yet it didn't feel like ground—more like he was standing on light itself. He turned in place, his heart pounding as he took in the endless expanse around him.
The sky—or what could be called a sky—was a swirling tapestry of stars, galaxies, and bursts of light in impossible colors. Shapes flickered in and out of existence, too vast and incomprehensible to hold any form for long. The air was still, yet it hummed with a power so immense it felt like it might crush him.
"Where… am I?" Leo whispered, his voice swallowed by the void.
Then he felt it—a presence. It wasn't just nearby; it was everywhere, woven into the fabric of this surreal plane. His skin prickled as a voice, deep and layered, resonated through the space around him.
"You stand in my domain," it said, its tone laced with amusement.
Leo turned sharply toward the source, and a figure began to take shape before him. At first, it was nothing more than a cloud of shifting shadows, but it slowly solidified into a humanoid form. Its "body" was translucent, swirling with galaxies and glowing fissures of light. Its face lacked features, save for two burning eyes that stared into Leo's very soul.
"Who—what are you?" Leo managed to ask, his voice trembling.
"I am called many things," the being said, its tone calm but faintly mocking. "In your world, you would call me a god. But the ones you worship are nothing compared to me. I am beyond their petty squabbles, their feeble favors."
The figure began to circle Leo, its movements fluid and unnervingly graceful. "And you, Leonard Eldridge… you are no one. A forsaken prince. A failure by mortal standards."
Leo flinched at the words but held his ground. "If I'm no one, why am I here? Why bother with me?"
The god tilted its head, as though considering his question. "Because," it said, "you are interesting."
Leo blinked, caught off guard. "Interesting?"
"Indeed. Your presence here is an anomaly. A random crack in space pulled you into my domain—an event that should be impossible. Yet here you stand, defying the odds. It suggests… potential."
The god stopped in front of him, leaning down so its glowing eyes were level with Leo's. "Tell me, Leonard. Do you feel anger? Despair? Fear?"
Leo's jaw tightened. "I feel… tired," he admitted. "Tired of being cast aside. Tired of being powerless."
The god straightened, its form rippling with what might have been approval. "Good. Desperation often births ambition. And ambition, Leonard, is far more valuable than power."
The Nameless God's form began to shift again, growing taller and more imposing. Its voice echoed, no longer mocking but filled with something deeper—curiosity, perhaps, or even excitement.
"I have watched your gods," it said, disdain dripping from its words. "They are small, their blessings nothing more than baubles handed out to their favorites. They offer strength but no challenge, power but no purpose."
It extended one hand, and a sphere of light began to form, swirling with colors that seemed to defy reality. "You, however, are different. You are unbound by their rules. A blank slate. I could grant you something far greater than their pitiful blessings."
The sphere floated between them, pulsing with energy.
"This is the Gacha System," the god said, its voice reverberating with gravity. "A power with limitless potential. It will allow you to create anything you can imagine, summon anything you desire—if you are willing to earn it."
Leo stared at the sphere, equal parts fascinated and wary. "What's the catch?" he asked.
The god laughed, a sound that sent shivers down Leo's spine. "The catch is simple: potential means nothing without effort. This system will not make you all-powerful overnight. Its strength will grow as you grow, its limits defined only by your imagination and determination."
Leo hesitated, his mind racing. "Why me? Why give this to someone like me?"
"Because I am bored," the god replied bluntly. "And you… amuse me. Your desperation, your ambition—it intrigues me. I want to see how far you can go with this power. Will you rise above your gods? Or will you crumble under the weight of your own shortcomings?"
Leo's gaze dropped to the sphere. The idea of wielding a power with no limits was intoxicating, but the god's words carried a warning: this wouldn't be easy.
Finally, he looked up, meeting the god's glowing eyes. "What if I fail?"
"Then you will remain what you are—a forgotten prince, buried in the dust of history," the god said simply.
Leo clenched his fists. "And if I succeed?"
The god leaned closer, its voice dropping to a whisper. "Then you will become greater than anything your world has ever known."
The sphere began to drift toward Leo, its light growing brighter. "This is your chance, Leonard Eldridge. Take it, and forge your own path. But remember: power is meaningless without purpose."
The sphere sank into Leo's chest, and he gasped as a surge of energy flooded through him. A glowing symbol appeared on the back of his hand—a swirling spiral that pulsed with light.
The god's laughter echoed once more. "Your journey begins now, Leonard. The fate of your land—and perhaps your world—is now tied to you. Use this power wisely… or lose everything."
The dimension began to dissolve around him, the light and stars fading into darkness.
Leo's eyes snapped open. He was lying on the ground in the clearing, the cool night air filling his lungs. Garret was kneeling beside him, his face etched with concern.
"Leo! Are you alright?"
Leo sat up slowly, his head spinning. The glowing symbol on his hand caught his eye, and a strange sense of resolve filled him.
"I'm fine," he said, his voice steady. He looked toward the horizon, where the ruins of Elandria awaited. "And things are about to change."