"The first thing we're going to do is share your points, raise your attributes, and make sure you can survive a casual swing from one of these creatures without dying outright," Ajax said, his tone as sharp as the knife in his hand. He cut a piece of the roasting meat and tossed it toward Moyo.
Moyo fumbled the catch, yelping as the blistering hot chunk grazed his fingers before landing on the crystalline ground with a sizzle.
Ajax's eyes narrowed. "Still not resistant to pain," he mused, pointing the knife at Moyo with an unnervingly casual air. "Waste food like that in front of me again, and you'll wish you'd never met me. Got it?"
He bit into his own piece of meat without hesitation, the steaming flesh vanishing in one deliberate, unflinching bite.
Moyo nodded wordlessly, stunned by the display. Was this what he had to look forward to? A point where even fire and heat were nothing more than inconveniences?
"Good," Ajax said, setting his knife aside. "Now, share your screen with me."
Moyo blinked, his mind still reeling. "Uh… my screen?"
Ajax sighed heavily, as though the act of explaining something so basic physically pained him. "Your screen is the system's manifestation of your entire being. Everything you are, laid bare for the system to judge. It's your worth, measured in numbers and traits. Most ascenders can't share it—only view their own."
He paused, leaning back with a dismissive wave of his hand. "The vanguards are an exception, but they don't matter here."
Moyo stared at him, hesitant.
Ajax groaned. "All you have to do is will it. Focus, and let me see it."
Moyo nodded slowly, his thoughts racing. He focused inward, imagining the golden screen that had haunted him since his entry into the dungeon. It shimmered into existence before him, glowing faintly in the dim light.
Ajax leaned forward, his sharp eyes scanning the display. He muttered under his breath, his gaze darting between the screen and Moyo.
Name: Moyosore
Path: None
Race: Human
Rank: Fledgling
Core:
Level: 25
Path:
Points: 75
Skills:
Blood Absorption [?]Endure Agony [C] (Level 2)
Attributes:STR: 3DEX: 3END: 3VIT: 5
Items:Ethereal Credits: 100,000
Ajax arched an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "Well, aren't you just a bundle of unrealized potential."
Moyo shifted uncomfortably under the man's gaze. "Is it... bad?" he asked hesitantly.
"Bad?" Ajax chuckled, leaning back. "It's worse than bad. Your strength is pitiful, your endurance is laughable, and your dexterity? Might as well not exist."
Moyo's face burned with embarrassment, but he kept silent.
"But," Ajax continued, his tone turning contemplative, "you've got points to spare. And that skill…" He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as they flicked back to the listing for Blood Absorption. "Interesting. Very interesting."
"What's so interesting?" Moyo asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and dread.
Ajax ignored the question, tapping a finger against the screen. "We'll focus on the essentials. Build your body first—strength, endurance, vitality. No point in fancy tricks if you get torn apart before you can use them."
He stood, his commanding presence filling the space. "Allocate those points, worm. I'll guide you. And don't get any ideas—this isn't about turning you into a hero. It's about survival. Yours and mine."
Moyo stared at the glowing screen, his heart pounding. Survival.
"Now, where did a tiny little fledgling like you get your hands on a hundred thousand credits, hmm?" Ajax asked.
"I was given an aurum coin for the error in the dungeon, but the system changed it to a hundred thousand credits," Moyo replied.
Ajax chuckled. "I bet they did. Didn't even think to consult the Syndicate, I wager," he murmured.
"The Syndicate? Who are they?" Moyo asked.
Ajax rolled his eyes. "Basically, think of them as an intergalactic body of merchants. They control the currency and trade for the entirety of the Archailect. Do not mess with them," Ajax warned with a chuckle.
"Right, now that we've confirmed you're as weak as a day-old cub, let's see what we can do with... oh, 75 points? We might as well go hunting for more high-level aberrants if it'll make my work this easy," Ajax said in surprise.
Moyo folded his legs in silence, leaving Ajax to his thoughts as the blade clapped his hands.
"Are you familiar with your attributes?" he asked.
Moyo nodded slightly. "We had games like this, back when—" He paused, swallowing the pain. "Back when my world still existed," he completed.
"You'd be surprised how many worlds had some form of preparation or recreational activities shaped for the coming of the system," Ajax said softly, almost lost in thought, before turning back to the screen.
"Allocate 20 to endurance. We can't have you losing stamina mid-battle, now can we?" he started, and Moyo obeyed.
The rush of power, almost addictive, flooded his veins. He felt... energetic, as if he could run for miles on end. Seemingly lost in the sensation, Ajax snapped his fingers, drawing his attention back.
"Don't get fooled by the feeling. Many ascenders have lost their lives that way. If you feel like this now, how do you think I feel at my stage of ascension?" he questioned.
The smile vanished from Moyo's face as he nodded.
"20 to strength as well. You'll need to get stronger if you're to hold your own and not run around like prey until you tire," Ajax said.
Again, Moyo felt the warmth in his muscles, the raw power swirling through his veins. He could feel his blood pumping and the raw aether coursing through him.
"Blood Vitality is a high-level skill. I'm guessing the system gave you this as well?" Ajax asked dubiously.
Moyo nodded, and Ajax rubbed his beard thoughtfully.
"Listen, I'll be frank with you," Ajax started, and Moyo listened intently.
"All these... gifts from the system are a product of my employers, who, for some reason, have taken a liking to you."
Moyo frowned.
"Yes, you should be bothered, because gifts like that in the Archailect come with steep prices—prices I fear you won't be able or willing to pay back when the time comes," Ajax finished.
Moyo clenched his hands. "If they ensure my survival for now, then I have no problem using them," he said firmly.
Ajax smiled. "Oh, I like you," he chuckled before nodding.
"20 to vitality. We'll see just how much it impacts your Blood Vitality skill," he said, and Moyo obeyed.
Pushing aside the high of power flowing through him, Moyo allocated the remaining 15 points to dexterity and got to his feet.
Ajax tapped a black crystal bangle around his wrist. A yawning black hole opened next to him as he pushed his hand through and pulled out a robe.
"That's a Voidkeep. It's where ascenders store all their valuables. Comes in different shapes and sizes—the bigger they are, the larger their spatial space," Ajax explained as Moyo stared in fascination.
"They also cost as much as one aurum for the smallest size," he added, and Moyo choked a bit in shock.
Tossing the robes at Moyo, who caught them, Ajax continued, "Wear these. Those clothes of yours stink."
Moyo nodded, but as he moved to put them on, Ajax called out, "Wait!"
Moyo froze.
Ajax rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, a flicker of an idea glinting in his eyes. He nodded to himself, coming to a decision. "Not yet," he said firmly. "There's something we need to do first."
He turned toward Moyo, his voice dropping into a contemplative murmur. "Blood Vitality ensures that, no matter what, you can keep healing. But it is not enough—not nearly enough."
Ajax's gaze grew sharper, his words taking on an edge. "That skill has also given you an option most ascenders never get to experience in their early stages—a chance to benefit from two spheres of the Archailect."
Moyo blinked, confused but listening intently as Ajax raised three fingers.
"There are three forms of aether once refined," Ajax began. "Intent—for weapon users and melee fighters, swordsmen like me." He gestured to himself with a faint smirk.
"Aura—for those who walk the path of raw physical strength, pushing their bodies beyond the peak of mortality."
"And mana—for those who weave spells and study the ancient, twisted tongue of runes," he finished, his tone low and deliberate.
Ajax lowered his hand, his piercing gray eyes locking onto Moyo. "You've been gifted Blood Absorption, a skill that, used properly, could push your physical form to monstrous levels—even for a fledgling." There was an unsettling gleam of anticipation in Ajax's eyes, one that made Moyo's stomach churn.
"With Intent," Ajax continued, pacing slowly, "I could forge you into something more—a blade honed to lethal precision, with a body that can endure and strike beyond its rank."
Moyo felt a strange thrill rising within him despite the fear.
"Normally, I wouldn't bother with this. It's too costly, and most ascenders don't even come close to their potential. But you…" Ajax beckoned Moyo closer with a curled finger, his grin sharp and dangerous.
"You have been given potential, and I intend to drag it out of you. Now—absorb the blood of the troll," he commanded.
Moyo froze. "What?"
The strike came before he could register it. Ajax's hand cuffed him sharply across the temple, sending him crashing to his knees. Pain flared, his vision swimming as a notification pinged in his HUD.
[Endure Agony level 5!]
His eyes widened at the message, tears blurring his vision as he looked up at Ajax, who loomed over him like a shadow.
"The next time I give you an order, and you make me repeat myself…" Ajax's voice was calm, his grin unnervingly wide, "you won't like the consequences."
Moyo swallowed hard, his body trembling as he turned toward the troll's lifeless form. The hulking creature's blood pooled thickly around it, the dark ichor glinting faintly in the dim light.
Heart pounding, he reached out a shaky hand and pressed it to the troll's corpse. The moment his fingers made contact; his Blood Absorption skill surged to life.
Agony.
Raw, searing pain lanced through his bones, igniting every nerve with unbearable fire. Moyo screamed, his body convulsing violently as the troll's blood was absorbed into his being. His muscles spasmed, his vision darkened, and every fiber of his existence writhed under the strain.
[Blood Absorption has absorbed a vital aspect of a Blood Troll.]
[You have obtained skill: Physical Regeneration [U]!]
The notifications barely registered, their golden glow a cruel mockery as he screamed until his throat was raw. It felt as if molten metal was being drilled into his skeleton, reshaping him from the inside out.
Time lost meaning.
When the ordeal finally ended, Moyo lay motionless on the ground, his chest heaving as sweat drenched his tattered clothes. The faint ping of his HUD broke through the haze of pain.
[Endure Agony level 10!]
Through half-lidded eyes, Moyo saw Ajax standing over him, watching impassively.
"Get up," Ajax said, his voice devoid of sympathy. "We've only just begun."
Moyo's body protested, but he choked back a sob and dragged himself to his feet.
"You, worm, are at the peak of fledgling rank," Ajax stated as Moyo shuffled slowly behind the hulking figure, his breath ragged and labored.
"Congratulations. You are quite possibly the first on your planet—and in your system—to reach this point," Ajax continued, his tone flat, though there was a flicker of approval hidden within his words.
Moyo struggled to stay upright, his muscles screaming in protest. His body was slick with sweat, and every step felt heavier than the last. He carefully placed the robes Ajax had given him onto the cavern floor, trying to compose himself as he watched Ajax open his Voidkeep once again.
The yawning void shimmered briefly before Ajax reached inside, withdrawing a rusted metal rod. The object looked simple, unassuming, but Ajax's expression suggested otherwise. He tossed the rod to Moyo, who barely managed to catch it, the cold metal biting into his blistered palms. Moyo hissed silently, his hands trembling as he held it.
"That rod," Ajax began, "has been infused with raw aether itself. It can conduct aether seamlessly, which is something your sorry sack of slightly stronger flesh and bones desperately needs right now. It's not much, but it should serve you well enough within this dungeon."
Ajax turned away, his voice casual as he continued, "Firstly, the creatures of the dungeon—those you've fought so far—are known as aberrants. Don't ask me how the name came about; I don't know either."
Moyo nodded faintly, his mind still reeling from the weight of everything Ajax had been drilling into him.
"What you need now is to pick an aether path," Ajax said, his tone light but his eyes gleaming with purpose. "Luckily for you, I know the best way to maximize your... uniqueness."
The air grew warmer, the cavern's temperature noticeably rising as they descended further. The distant sound of bubbling liquid reached Moyo's ears, a faint orange glow reflecting off the walls. A sense of foreboding settled over him as they emerged into a massive chamber dominated by a molten lake of lava, its surface churning and hissing with volatile energy.
Moyo swallowed hard, dread curling in his stomach.
"You," Ajax said, glancing over his shoulder, "with your Physical Regeneration skill, have the distinct possibility of gaining the body of an aura user."
"Does that mean you intend to make me an aura user?" Moyo asked hesitantly.
"In part," Ajax answered cryptically, his tone brooking no further questions.
Without another word, Ajax hopped casually over the edge, landing effortlessly near the bubbling lava's edge. He turned, raising an eyebrow at Moyo, his expression expectant.
Moyo hesitated. Running was futile—where could he go? And even if escape were possible, Ajax was his only real chance of survival. Swallowing his fear, he clumsily scrambled down the edge, landing heavily with a grunt. To his surprise, there was no pain.
Ajax shook his head in disappointment. "Pathetic," he muttered.
"For the next day," Ajax said, gesturing around the oppressive, sweltering chamber, "this place will be your home. Here, I will strip away all traces of cowardice and weakness from your form before you begin the path of a sword user. Now—sit."
Moyo complied, lowering himself onto the blisteringly hot stone.
Ajax produced the bowl of serpent venom, the dark ichor swirling ominously within it. Moyo's heart raced as his eyes locked onto the venom, the memory of its effects still vivid in his mind.
"Aura users," Ajax began, his tone almost reverent, "are among the most brutal types of ascenders you will ever encounter. To their enemies, they represent a force of unstoppable power—like a mountain."
"A titan," Moyo murmured, earning a nod from Ajax.
"Precisely. Few ever start on that path, though, and they miss out on the foundation it provides. I, for better or worse, began as a sword user—armed with little more than a blunt blade. Perhaps, if I'd had the resilience and strength of an aura user back then... just perhaps..." Ajax trailed off, his gaze distant, lost in thought.
He shook his head sharply, returning to the present. "You, however, have no choice. Your very existence depends on acquiring the strength of an aura user—but not the core." His voice grew grim. "And as much as I hate to do this, I have no alternative."
Moyo blinked in confusion, his unease mounting as Ajax closed the distance between them. In one swift motion, Ajax's hand gripped Moyo's jaw, prying his mouth open with ruthless efficiency.
Moyo's eyes widened, panic rising as he tried to move, but Ajax's iron grip held him in place.
"Now, I won't lie to you," Ajax said, his tone disturbingly calm. "This is going to hurt—a lot. You might even try to pass out. Don't."
Sweat poured down Moyo's face as fear gripped him.
"Oh, and one more thing," Ajax added, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "If the system prompts you to create an aura core—decline."
Without another word, Ajax tilted the bowl, dumping the venom down Moyo's throat.
The liquid seared its way down his throat, igniting an inferno that consumed every nerve. Moyo thrashed violently, his body betraying him as agony overwhelmed his senses. He could not escape the unyielding grip of Ajax, the Death Blade. The burning sensation spread like wildfire, his insides twisting, writhing, and—he was certain—liquefying.
There was no reprieve. No escape. All he knew was pain—the smell of it, the taste of it, the suffocating presence of it. Somewhere in the chaos, he thought he might have soiled himself, but such trivialities faded into irrelevance under the onslaught of torment.
Dimly, in some subconscious corner of his mind, he heard the faint ping of system notifications. Hallucinations, surely. Reality itself had been eclipsed by pain, a tyrant reigning supreme over his existence.
The spasms wracked his body endlessly—or so it seemed. Time became meaningless. He felt his jaw forced open again, though the action barely registered. A dry, powdery substance was poured down his throat.
This time, a new agony exploded within him, the sensation akin to his insides being roasted alive. The violent surges of power ripping through him rendered him unable to cry, unable to scream. His throat was gone. His tear ducts no longer functioned. Yet, in some dark corner of his mind, a frayed thread held firm. Clinging to the edges of his sanity, Moyo refused to let go, refused to let the red haze consume him entirely.
He wasn't sure when his awareness began to return. Slowly, the burning, crimson fog receded, revealing the coarse, blistering sands near the lava's edge. His breath came in ragged gasps, his throat—somehow regenerated—raw and searing with every inhalation.
Something firm turned him upright. Through his blurred vision, he saw Ajax, his expression unreadable.
A bowl pressed against Moyo's lips.
"No!" His body convulsed, thrashing violently in resistance. His mind fought blindly, unaware of the contents, yet instinctively rejecting it.
"Drink!" Ajax barked, the sheer force of his command freezing Moyo in place. His lips trembled as they touched the cool liquid, his body betraying him as he drank deeply.
The liquid slid down his throat, burning—not with the fiery vengeance of before, but with the stinging sensation of raw, exposed flesh meeting cool water. He blinked rapidly, realizing his vision blurred not from exhaustion, but from tears.
Ajax propped him against the cavern wall near the lava's edge. For a moment, neither spoke.
The usual smirk that graced Ajax's face was gone, replaced by a cold indifference that was almost more unsettling.
[Endure Agony level 25!]
[Physical Regeneration level 25!]
[You have acquired passive skill: Toxin Resistance (C)!]
[Toxin Resistance level 25!]
Moyo stared, blinking as the notifications lit up before him. Ajax's eyes flicked to the same screen, somehow viewing it without Moyo's consent. Perhaps it was tied to the contract they had sworn.
Ajax nodded approvingly, turning away. He walked toward the molten lake, dipping the same bowl that had held the serpent venom into the lava, scooping out the bubbling, molten liquid.
Moyo's heart sank. He prayed—desperately—that the bowl would melt, disintegrating and sparing him from the next inevitable torment. But the bowl remained intact.
Ajax turned back; his tone as casual as ever. "We've tempered your insides. The outside remains."
He held the boiling bowl in one hand, the bubbling lava reflecting the hellish glow of the chamber. His gaze locked onto Moyo, who glared back, fury burning in his eyes.
That anger seemed to please Ajax, his nod carrying an unspoken respect.
"You survived," Ajax said simply.
Moyo looked down at his trembling hand, clenching it into a fist. The trembling stopped, and he felt something stir within him—a small, defiant ember refusing to be extinguished.
He nodded silently; his throat too raw to form words.
Ajax's lips curled into a faint grin. "Hold on to that anger," he said. "You'll need it."
Without another word, he tipped the bowl, pouring the molten liquid over Moyo's head.