My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible

When Liam appeared, the first thing that greeted him was silence.

He noticed that he was surrounded by trees that towered endlessly, their trunks impossibly thick, and also plants. And they were all alien to him.

He glanced around calmly, eyes narrowing, as he extended his telekinetic sense outward. His mind spread across the forest in a perfect sphere, brushing against everything within twenty meters—roots, trunks, soil.

The feedback was immediate: trees, vines, insects, and animals of strange anatomy—but no sign of humans or civilization.

He sighed quietly, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

"Really, system? A forest again?" Liam sighed softly.

He rose lightly into the air, levitating through the dense canopy. The branches brushed past his shoulders as he climbed higher, until he finally broke through into open air.

The view that greeted him was vast—breathtaking in its scale, yet suffocating in its emptiness.

An ocean of green stretched endlessly beneath him. The forest canopy rolled like waves in all directions, the horizon blurring into a blue mist.

He turned slowly, scanning the distance with his enhanced vision. Even with the precision of his Eagle Sight, he couldn't find the end. The trees grew taller the farther they went, forming a horizon of emerald and gold.

There was also no smoke or rooftops. No signs of life.

"Perfect," Liam muttered. "An entire planet, and I start in the middle of nowhere."

Still, he wasn't impatient. He had all the time in the world. He hopes he does. And besides—he knew that wherever there were forests, there were creatures… and where there were creatures, there was civilization nearby.

He picked a direction at random and began flying.

For several minutes, the forest remained unchanged, as he could see was endless trees. Then, faintly, his senses caught something new.

A vibration—rhythmic, irregular, and sharp. It was the sound of something.

He focused on it, eyes narrowing.

Metal on metal… and explosions.

"Combat," Liam murmured.

Without hesitation, he increased his speed, slicing through the air. The wind hissed around him as he crossed the canopy, following the echo of battle deeper into the wilderness of trees.

Within seconds, the sound grew clearer—the clash of blades, the roar of fire, the guttural bellow of something monstrous.

He slowly decreased his speed, as the trees parted to reveal an open clearing—an irregular field of broken rock and scorched earth.

Below, a group of five humans were locked in battle with a hulking green creature that stood nearly four meters tall. Its skin glistened like polished stone, muscles bulging beneath layers of dark scales. Its eyes burned crimson, and in its hand was a massive crude club made from blackened bone.

An orc—though far larger and more brutal-looking than any book Liam had ever read.

The humans were equipped like adventurers from a hybrid world—modern tactical armor meshed with fantasy-style gear: gauntlets, shields, swords, and staves.

He hovered above silently, observing.

The team fought in formation, or at least tried to. The tank, a broad-shouldered man wielding a rectangular mana-shield, held the monster's attention with remarkable tenacity.

Sparks and shockwaves erupted each time his shield met the orc's weapon. The man grunted, blood seeping from a gash on his forearm, yet his stance never broke.

The damage dealer—a dual-blade fighter with a messy mop of brown hair—darted around the monster's flank, striking rapidly.

But his movements to Liam, were too flashy and too wasteful. He seemed more concerned with theatrics than efficiency, twisting and spinning between blows that left him open.

Liam raised an eyebrow. Showboating in a real fight?

The two mages stood further back. The male mage's hands blazed with fire, launching orbs of molten light that seared the orc's hide but barely slowed it. The female mage wielded wind, her spells sharp and fast—slicing through air, buffeting the monster's movements just enough to help the others gain ground.

The fifth member, the healer, stood at the very rear—a young woman with silver hair tied behind her head. Her staff pulsed rhythmically with soft white light as she cast healing waves toward her allies.

Thanks to his experience in Eternal Realms, Liam's sharp senses noted her precision and lack of hesitation. She was steady and her control flawless.

"She's good. Better than the rest of them combined," he murmured.

Still, despite their coordinated effort, they were losing ground. Every strike from the orc's club was deadly enough to take them all out, but the tank was doing a good job taking the hit for the team.

The orc roared, the sound shaking the air. Its muscles bulged grotesquely.

It was like the orc was about to go all out but the next moment, the ground trembled, and heavy footfalls echoed through the forest. One, then two, then many.

A second orc burst through the treeline—slightly smaller, but still massive, carrying a jagged axe dripping with fresh blood.

The team froze for a fraction of a second. It was all the time the monsters needed.

Chaos erupted.

The first orc swung downward with terrifying force. The tank raised his shield, but the impact shattered it into fragments. The blow hurled him backward like a ragdoll, crashing into the healer.

"Dammit—!" the swordsman shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the bellow of the second orc as it charged.

The fire mage threw a desperate flame burst—too late. The creature swung its axe sideways, sending a shockwave of raw force that struck both mages. The male mage screamed as he was thrown across the field, his arm twisting unnaturally.

The swordsman barely had time to dodge before the first orc's club came crashing down. The shockwave sent him tumbling across the dirt, bones cracking audibly.

Liam sighed softly from above.

"They're finished."

He wasn't particularly emotional about it. He knew that if he doesn't step in, they will all be killed. He wasn't stepping in out of pity—or heroism. But they were human, intelligent, and armed with equipment that clearly belonged to this world. Which meant they were useful.

He needs information and they were his best lead.

So he acted.

Without fanfare, Liam dropped from the sky.

The air trembled faintly as he descended. The surviving adventurers barely noticed him at first—too preoccupied with staying alive. He landed lightly beside the swordsman's battered body.

The two orcs turned in unison, their glowing eyes locking onto him. For the first time, the entire battlefield went still.

Liam crouched briefly, glancing at the swordsman's limp hand. A steel blade, chipped but serviceable, lay beside it. He picked it up casually, testing the balance.

The weight was unfamiliar—heavier than what he preferred—but serviceable.

"Not bad," he murmured, spinning it once.

The orcs snarled, pounding their chests, their fury directed entirely at him now. Even the surviving members of the party had frozen, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion.

The tank, bleeding and barely standing, croaked hoarsely, "Who the hell—?"

Liam smiled faintly, cutting him off with a gesture. He twirled the sword once more, then lifted his gaze toward the two massive beasts.

"Well, let's have a little fun," he said lightly, voice calm as still water.

The nearest orc roared and attacked.