Death Heir’s Devouring System

Before he began the fight, Azrael was made to choose over several environments. At the end, he decided on the simplest one: a green forest.

[Warning: the being you have selected to fight is beyond the boundaries of simulation. The actual monster in reality would be vastly more powerful than the simulator can recreate.]

[Warning: given your level, death is certain, and your pain receptors are set to realistic.]

[Are you sure you want to proceed?]

Several popups appeared before Azrael's eyes, forcing him to click 'Proceed' so many times that at some point he stopped paying attention to what the warnings were.

"At worst it's just a bit of pain. It's not like I can die in virtual reality," he complained.

[Combat commencing…]

Finally, the words he had waited for appeared before him; he instantly dropped into a battle stance.

'Now let's see how one battles a moon.'

He sharpened his senses to the limit, realizing that now, being Proven, he could feel the surroundings behind him.

Telling himself that he would explore these things later, he observed his foe wordlessly.

The moon split open—revealing a massive eye with a pupil that shifted through every imaginable color. This time, however, it didn't stare at the planet as a whole.

Its gaze was focused solely on Azrael.

The simulated wind stilled, the grass growing deadly still. The ripples in the river ceased altogether. Even the small insects crawling across the ground halted.

Only blinking and shallow breaths were permitted before the mightiest being to exist.

But now, one person dared challenge that absolute authority.

Tensing his body to the limit, Azrael sprang forward with all the force he could muster—

Only to stop a second later. The surroundings changed instantly. It wasn't a major shift, just enough to realize that he had been moved.

'Was I teleported?' he thought a second before a popup appeared before him.

[You have died.]

Azrael stared at the message a few times, mind racing.

Then spinning, he saw himself.

Or what was left of him.

His body had been reduced to ash, which had begun to fall downward by the force of gravity, only to be stopped, frozen in time.

[Simulation paused. Let it continue?]

Slowly blinking, Azrael gazed at the frozen simulated moon in the sky.

Calling forth his short sword, he pierced his arm, causing crimson blood to fall; a stinging pain coursed through his veins.

'There is not a problem with my pain receptors,' he thought in amazement.

The moon had killed him so swiftly that he hadn't even had time to feel pain.

One moment he had been alive, the next dead.

'I am glad that I didn't have the idea of going against the real moon before.'

Since he had seen what he wanted, he clicked another popup, and the moon was gone in a flash.

Taking a deep breath, Azrael used [Blood Manipulation].

Immediately the blood that had come from the wound he had inflicted on himself moved.

Faster and more precise than before.

It took him some time to get the hang of it. After many failures, he managed to shape it into a deadly scythe.

'The skill is tied to my Corruption, and it being of the Tainted Rank in theory means that the blood-replicated weapon should be more powerful than Gravebloom, though it wouldn't have the passive effect of the item.'

He refined his skill further, numerous times dispersing the blood scythe only to create it again.

Each time he did so, it would get closer to perfection. Finding the right balance and sharpness was a long and tedious process.

Continuing the simulation. He observed [Ghostwalk] work in real time.

No matter how fast he ran, jumped, or fell to the ground, he wasn't able to hear his own movements.

'I can play with these for days on end.'

He reminded himself he wasn't supposed to spend too much time in the simulation.

Telling himself he was going to test just one more feature, he went towards the enemy simulation and chose to create his own.

Before he had devoured the system out of a Chosen, he had worked as a monster corpse gatherer. That gave him the ability to better understand most monsters' anatomy with a glance.

"It was taller than me," Azrael spoke out loud, reminding himself of the way the monster he wanted to recreate looked.

"Left-handed, with black armor and silent steps."

It didn't take long to create what was essentially the Death Knight. How close he was to the real deal he didn't know, since he hadn't had the time to fight the monster properly when it had been at full strength.

Still, this would show him how feasible it would be for him to challenge the Remembrance of the Death Knight and earn it as a summon.

[Simulation completed.]

[Combat commencing…]

Without a second thought, Azrael shot forward, Gravebloom high in the air.

In a flash he swung, eyes widening in amazement. The sheer speed he was able to exert was beyond what he thought possible.

'Being Proven really is a game changer.' He mused.

Still, it was far from enough. The simulated Death Knight was still a Savage Profane monster. It was anything but an easy foe.

With an upward swing, the abomination intercepted Azrael's strike, aligning its black sword, ready to carve him in half.

Before that could happen, however, the blood seeping from his wound shifted. Instantly it turned into a bloody scythe heading for the monster's head.

Azrael had never seen anyone dual-wield a scythe, yet in that moment it felt like the only right choice.

Simultaneously the black sword of the Death Knight carved a large wound on his face, while his scythe bore deep into the knight's helmet.

Both staggered back.

Azrael used [Blood Manipulation] to stop the crimson liquid falling from his face in an instant.

Being of the Tainted Rank had its advantages.

Unwilling to let go of his chance, he lunged forward once again.

*****

Once a Chosen ascended from the Marked Level to the Proven Level, there was an urgent examination that was to take place.

Its purpose was to assess the Chosen's mental state. After their first encounter with a Rift, they usually fell into one of two categories.

The first were those scarred and terrified—so shaken by the experience that they never wished to face monsters again. Such people could not be allowed long periods of rest; the more time they spent outside of combat, the more their doubts would fester, choking their potential growth. If deemed unstable, they would be forced to fight weaker monsters, again and again, until confidence was rebuilt—until their hearts learned they were not to be underestimated.

The second were the overconfident type. For one reason or another, they had dominated the Rift and came away believing themselves unkillable. For them, the danger was even greater. Unless humility and caution were instilled quickly, it was only a matter of time before they charged headfirst to their deaths, convinced they could take on the world.

That was what made the VR simulation invaluable. It gave every Chosen the chance to fight what they believed to be on their level.

The timid ones would start by slaughtering the weakest monsters, slowly working their way up to stronger foes. The arrogant ones, meanwhile, would rush into battles far beyond their league, die a few times at most, and in doing so, lower their expectations.

"About two hours have passed." Seyra sighed, going over to the TV in the room.

As she was meant to do, she had left Azrael to his own devices. Now, thanks to the TV that was connected to his VR gear, she would be able to witness what he had been doing all this time.

Was he a timid man, scarred deeply by his expedition in the Rift, or an arrogant fool instead?

The answer to that question would determine the way she would have to handle and train him.

Pressing the red button on the remote, the TV turned on. Seyra's eyes immediately locked onto the upper corner.

[Death count: 78]

"What?" she exclaimed in surprise. Why was it so high? No matter who, after experiencing painful death a certain number of times, they would lower the difficulty of their enemies.

Observing closer, she witnessed the ruined green forest. Most of the trees had fallen, and the ground shattered in numerous places.

At one side stood a knight clad in dark armor, blood seeping from countless wounds.

At the other, Azrael with a missing left arm… And a smile on his face.