Reborn As An SSS-Ranked Assassin Armed With Modern Weapons

"390! Is there any specific reason why it's 390 and not any other number?" Ash asked curious to know if there was any deep thoughts behind naming.

390 almost ignored his this time, she just shrugged doing her job to study runes on Jessie's armor.

Ash bit his tongue annoyed, then he grabbed the short blade that also had some runes Carved in it. But compared to Jessie's armor they looked too simple and fundamental.

But what else did he had to show her. His armour also had minimal runes since it didn't had any special skills just the stat boost.

It was something that he understood through this time, increasing stat Points didn't needed intricate weaving of runes, they had simple basic runes.

Jessie's armor has a special skills but not very high stat boost, either because it was hard to do both thing at once or it just simply lacked that rune.

But still the armor haa some intricate layered runes, as if embedded multiple times... making all the layers work with each other.

390 face a fleeting glance towards the Short blade, there was no excitement in her eyes like she had seeing the jessie's Armor.

'i guess I can't make her talk with that knife, i will need something more' Ash sighed inwardly.

Grabbing the Glyph seed he delved deep inside to master all the basic runes.

As he entered another unopened, the third rune appeared differently.

Not carved, not burning, not even glowing. It simply existed — a faint shimmer in the air that made hazy everything behind it.

Ash stared at it quietly, his mind already racing through patterns, logic, and meaning.

He had seen Form, the essence of shape.

He had felt Flow, the link between stillness and movement.

But this... this wasn't a concept to observe.

It was life itself.

A vibration hummed faintly in his chest, and his instincts responded before his thoughts could follow.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

It was rhythm.

he just realised how fast he was mastering the runes now. His luck stat had reached 23 compared to when he mastered Flow it was a large gap.

The rune didn't move in patterns, It simply was a raw surge—chaotic but constant.

Every rune before this had required patience — trial and error. But now, there was no need for restraint. His Luck worked differently this time. It didn't guide him through thoughts; it aligned him with them.

Where others might take hours or days to grasp even the surface of this rune, Ash could feel his body responding within seconds.

He could clearly feel the difference between his luck stat. Now and then.

'Energy or pulse' he whispered, eyes narrowing. 'Neither living nor dead— just existence.'

And he was right.

The rune didn't give energy. It didn't create it either. It simply revealed it — everywhere, in everything.

The pulse in the air. The tension in his muscles. Even the faint vibrations under his feet — every grain of sand had its own silent energy.

It was Pulse — the symbol of the world's heartbeat.

Ash extended his hand.

Mana surged naturally from his palm, not uncontrolled but through response. Like calling a pet that had been waiting for its master.

He didn't cast anything with mana. He just made it exist.

He understood then — Pulse wasn't the fuel that powered life.

It was life.

Everything had a pulse. The difference between a rock and a person wasn't that one had energy and the other didn't — it was that one moved, and the other waited.

Movement was Flow.

Shape was Form.

But existence — was Pulse.

The process that should have taken months to others and hours for Ash with his luck, only took minutes with heightened luck stat.

Ash was happy, atleast the increasing luck stat didn't only save him from the Devourer's mind hex but now it was helping him master the runes in minutes.

The rune flared suddenly, like a second heartbeat overlapping his own. The pressure made his eardrums ache.

He staggered for a moment, feeling his own energy expand beyond his body. It wasn't external but felt internal — but the reach of his senses expanded.

Within seconds, he could sense the movement of life around him.

Small insects crawling under the soil. The faint mana thread in Jessie's direction.

It was faint—blurred, but alive.

Pulse had opened another layer of perception. He didn't even needed to write this rune and it already showed it's usage.

Ash gritted his teeth. The sensation was overwhelming, like standing in a storm of invisible pressure. His veins glowed faintly under his skin, with the blue sensitive mana.

It was overwhelming feeling to gobble.

He could feel his own energy signature, a pattern that fluctuated in time with his breath. For a second, it felt toxic, poisonous — too corrosive.

But as he felt that he learned everything about the pulse, he couldn't be any wrong.

His luck guided him to a shocking revelation, pulse or energy wasn't a tamable thing as he tried to, it was wild beast which could backfire if tried to control.

The best he could do was to learn to guide it correctly to betterment of himself.

The intense feeling subsided as his instincts got accustomed to seeing and feeling the world with so many senses.

He wanted to get out of the Glyph, but realising that it only took around 10-20 minutes to master a rune. His eyes spread across remaining 5 gates.

Ash sat cross-legged in the same done. The air was still humming with faint energy, like an invisible sensory circle.

This time, there was no hesitation. His Luck wasn't just a number anymore—it felt alive, guiding his senses before he even made a move. He had

He closed his eyes.

[Bind]

He felt it before he understood it—threads. Thin, invisible lines running through the world, linking everything to everything else. His heartbeat to the wind, the earth to the roots beneath, even the air around him to his breath.

It wasn't about forcing control—it was acknowledging connection.

He reached out mentally, not to create, but to touch—and the world responded. Threads of light shimmered faintly around his fingers, weaving themselves into patterns before fading into air.

The rune appeared—glowing, stable, already mastered.

He didn't even feel surprise anymore.

Luck wasn't helping him understand. It was synchronizing him with the truth.

---

[Veil]

When he moved on to the next rune, he realized how quiet everything had become. The forest seemed to hold its breath.

Veil didn't speak—it hid.

He let his mind fall into silence. The moment he exhaled, his presence blurred. His body didn't vanish, but it ceased to be noticed.

Leaves shifted, wind rustled—but even nature itself seemed to overlook him.

It wasn't invisibility—it was disinterest.

"Veil," he murmured softly, "isn't about hiding from the world. It's about the world choosing not to see you."

A faint rune shimmered above his palm before fading into nothingness, leaving only still air in its wake.

Mastered. Instantly.

---

[Cycle]

This one felt heavier. Flow had been fluid, but Cycle pulsed with a rhythm—like a heartbeat that didn't belong to him.

When he touched it, he saw flashes—birth, growth, decay, rebirth. The endless turning of existence.

It wasn't linear; it was circular.

He watched his own energy rise and fall with every breath, each moment of stillness blending into the next. He understood: Cycle wasn't change—it was return.

Ash extended his hand. His wounds from earlier faintly tingled, and before he realized it, they were gone—skin whole again.

Cycle accepted him.

No resistance. No exhaustion.

Luck didn't just make it easy; it made it natural.

---

[Anchor]

When he touched the next rune, the ground itself felt heavier. His body—solid. His thoughts—still.

Anchor wasn't about being strong. It was about being unmovable.

For a second, his vision darkened. The world spun, yet he stayed rooted, untouched by the chaos of motion.

Anchor didn't resist—it endured.

He clenched his fist, and the rune pulsed once before sinking into his arm, etching itself faintly beneath his skin like invisible armor.

His presence grew heavier. Even the air seemed reluctant to disturb him.

Another rune. Mastered.

---

[Echo]

This was the last one—and the strangest.

It wasn't physical. It wasn't energy. It was awareness itself.

He sat quietly, feeling the faint echo of his own heartbeat against the fabric of existence. Every thought left a trace, every feeling a ripple.

He followed that ripple outward—and it came back.

For the first time, he felt not alone but mirrored. The world echoed his intent back to him.

When he opened his eyes, faint whispers filled his mind—not words, but impressions. Awareness, distant presences, a subtle resonance that connected thought to thought.

Echo wasn't about hearing others. It was about recognizing the voice of the world itself.

And then, like before—the rune solidified, pulsed once, and vanished into his consciousness.

---

Ash exhaled deeply, his eyes glowing faintly in the twilight.

Eight runes. Eight concepts. Each mastered faster than most could comprehend.

Form. Flow. Energy. Bind. Veil. Cycle. Anchor. Echo.

It should've taken months—years, even. But Luck bent the rules. What others struggled to grasp, he seemed destined to understand.

He could feel it now—a web of meanings overlapping, forming a foundation deeper than mere symbols.

Form defines what exists.

Flow defines how it moves.

Energy fuels it.

Bind connects it.

Veil conceals it.

Cycle renews it.

Anchor grounds it.

Echo remembers it.