Welcome to the True Man's World – 1.1
Some people saw a light at the end of the tunnel, a choir of angels singing. Max saw a giant of fire.
What was going on?
Was this the best hallucination his dying brain could muster? No, it was strange that he could even think so clearly in the first place. But it couldn't be real. He wasn't anywhere. The surroundings were a dark void, like a starless night.
"Mortal, I am Ares, God of War, and you have caught my attention."
The theme of this hallucination was strange on two fronts.
First, he had never taken a particular interest in Greek mythology.
Second...
"And that's because… uh, sir? I haven't done anything."
Like billions of others, his was a life that wouldn't change much more than the patch of dirt where he'd be buried. If he wasn't dead already, he was close.
"That's the point. You were destined for greatness, but cancer took everything from you, little by little. I'm offering you a second chance. What do you say?"
Amazing, of course. Everything he had ever dreamed of and more. He didn't need to hear the details. Any kind of second chance was fine with him. But part of him still resisted believing this was real. It was implausible, no matter how real it felt.
"You still haven't told me what it involves."
"To be my champion, of course. There's a fire in you, waiting for its chance to burn. I know it. Don't hold back; you want this. I can give you power, and the rest will be up to you to achieve. Anything you desire. All I ask is that you do your best, live your life with pride, and never bow to anyone."
Anyone would want to live like that if they could. But humans were very limited. Sometimes they had to swallow their pride. Sometimes they had to accept that certain things couldn't be changed, and others would forever remain out of reach.
"Power…"
But with the power of a God of War, he could rise above all that.
"Is that a yes, mortal? Of course, you're dead, but you'd have to die in order to come to my world anyway. Get a new life."
There it was.
He had seen it coming, but it still hit him like a punch to the gut. Max nodded.
He didn't need to hear the details, especially now. He had nothing else.
[Initializing System]
"System" with a capital S. He recognized the term from the many novels he'd read or listened to (since even holding an e-reader for an extended time had become difficult) in the hospital. He hadn't had much time for anything else. Could it be something like what he had read?
The next screen confirmed his guess.
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Max Miller
Level 1
Class: Sword of the War God
Strength: 5
Constitution: 5
Dexterity: 5
Agility: 5
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 5
Charisma: 5
Endurance: 5
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Max felt slightly offended until he realized these were probably just the base stats. They had to be, he thought. That Endurance and Constitution definitely weren't those of a cancer patient.
He had read plenty of stories about things like this and played enough RPGs, but he still needed time to prepare. To read about his stats, his class—whose name he didn't particularly like—and Skills, if he even started with any.
Ares didn't give him the time he needed.
The void changed into a mountainous landscape.
Ares? He was gone...
"I saw potential in you, but now you have to prove it. Prove I'm not wrong." His voice still reached him, carried by the icy wind. "So, go ahead. Take the sword."
Max wasn't sure if it had been there a moment ago, but now he saw a sword buried in the earth, surrounded by grass. He approached it, feeling the wind whistle through him. At least he wasn't in his hospital gown but wearing regular street clothes (he preferred not to think too much about it. Magic, period). He'd have frozen to death otherwise.
It would have been almost funny to get a second chance only to die shortly after of pneumonia or something.
He reached the sword, grasped the hilt, and felt his heart race with excitement. What child hadn't dreamed of being a hero? Maybe not all dreamed of being a knight in shining armor, but the idea was the same.
A hero. Someone with the power to make a difference. Someone who mattered in the grand scheme of things.
Max pulled out the sword and saw it for what it was.
Yeah, the damn thing was broken in half.
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Bastard Sword
Level 0
A suitable weapon for someone who has entered this world with nothing but their willpower. Perhaps useful to end your miserable life if cornered, at worst.
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Max frowned. That went beyond typical sarcasm. What a piece-of-crap System.
"What am I supposed to do with this? Ares, is this some kind of joke? Ares?"
No response. The wind carried his words away.
What answered him were the shadows.
Burning red eyes in the darkness. He could see the creatures' breaths rising in the frigid night air.
More than a dozen of them, and the only thing he had to defend himself was a damn broken sword.
"Fantastic," Max muttered.
The beasts emerged from the darkness, though it took him a moment to realize it. Their very bodies were made of darkness. The only touch of color on that black canvas was their eyes. And their gleaming fangs. What enormous mouths, holy shit, he thought.
The wolves charged at him, running, drooling.
Hunting for fresh meat.
"Holy shit."
He gripped what passed for a sword with both hands. Despite the situation, he felt exhilarated. He supposed it was hard to fear for your life when you'd lost it just a few minutes ago.
But more than that, he believed he could do this.
He felt alive, strong, when he was used to the mere act of going to the bathroom by himself being an effort.
How could there even be a speck of fear in his heart? He hadn't felt so alive in years.
"You're some ugly bastards."
Max swung the broken sword. It was short too, so he had to wait until one of those wolves was practically on top of him. Of course, he aimed the blade at the only part he could clearly see.
He pierced one of its eyes cleanly.
The pained sounds it let out made it seem more like a dog than a wolf.
Max shoved the sword in deeper. It was short, but not that short. He should be able to reach the brain—assuming the creature wasn't just shadows on the inside too.
He couldn't know, so he had to assume it had the vulnerabilities a living thing should have.
The head. The neck. The chest, arms, and legs.
He had to assume those were weak points, or he'd be paralyzed, wondering what to do against beings that weren't truly alive in the first place. Even if they looked like shadowy creatures, his broken sword had to be enough to deal with them. This was Ares' trial. It had to be something he could win.
Which didn't mean it would be easy, far from it, but it was winnable.
He had to believe that, and he did.
This wasn't a game, System or not, so of course the wolves didn't come at him one by one. Another lunged at his leg, biting down hard.
His pain tolerance had never been particularly high. With painkillers coursing through his veins twenty-four hours a day, he'd never had much opportunity to build it up. It was agony, but not in the physical sense.
Still, Max let the pain pass through him.
That's what it would do anyway. He couldn't let a fleeting sensation control him. Besides, he could fight.
Not just lie there waiting for the end. He could, and he had to, fight.
Max yanked the sword out of the first beast and then drove it into the mouth of the one clamping down on his arm, giving it something better to bite.
It turned out to be a more effective way to reach the brain, as the beast thrashed and then went limp shortly after. It disintegrated, its particles of darkness vanishing completely, leaving no trace.
[You've killed your first monster. +100 XP.]
Cool?
He had no damn idea how many experience points he needed to level up and gain skill points, or even unlock them in the first place.
He wasn't going to be able to fiddle with any menus in the middle of a fight, anyway.
Well, more importantly...
"Get that box out of the way, I can't see shit!" Systems could vary wildly, but they always had voice commands in common.
He hoped that applied in real life too. Because the box was blue, no doubt, but it hadn't had the decency to also be transparent. Not even semi-transparent.
The box vanished, clearing his view.
Thank God, he thought.
Max swung the blade again at the first beast, hoping to finish it off before a third could get to him and screw him over—this time his arm instead of his leg, if not going straight for his neck.
He succeeded, and it wasn't even difficult. The movements felt natural, as if he'd been practicing them his whole life. Immediately after, he stepped back, though he couldn't put much distance between himself and the beasts.
Ares had thought this through. Thought about how to screw him over, that is.
The terrain was mountainous, open, and flat. Nowhere to hide. No lower or higher ground to move through nimbly and possibly outwit the beasts.
None of that—he had to fight directly, accepting serious wounds if he wanted to triumph. Like the bite on his leg. On this kind of terrain and with a broken sword, it was impossible to defeat over a dozen of those things without taking damage. Simply impossible. Ares had...
Well, literally thrown him to the wolves.
One of these days I'll kill him, he thought, fending off another of those bastards. It came this close to biting his neck, but in the end, it only sank its teeth into his sword. Why not? Ares might be a god, but the System probably didn't have a level cap. Dangerous to assume things based on fiction novels, but so far, everything fit and made sense.
It was just a matter of time until he grew strong enough to kill him.
Hard to feel grateful for my second chance with my leg hurting like hell, he thought, slashing at the beast's lower jaw.
He tried to finish it off, but it slipped away, whimpering. The bastard still had all its upper teeth to bite him with.
He was bleeding too much. His body was healthier and stronger than in his previous life, no doubt, but he was still level one with minimal stats.
It wasn't hard to tell which was his blood and which was the monsters'.
As expected, they bled a thick, tar-like black liquid. The vibrant scarlet of his blood stood out starkly against that mess.
He was fighting with everything he had, but he should already be dead. Ironically, what was saving him was the numerical disadvantage. The wolves were swarming him, all from the front, hungry and eager. So they got in each other's way.
They weren't coming one by one, like this was a movie where he had protagonist immunity, but that still meant he didn't have to deal with all the wolves. Just three or four at a time.
That was the only reason he was managing. Otherwise, they would have already torn him apart. Well, that and his sheer willpower. The sword's description had mentioned he'd come into this world with nothing but his willpower, like a ragged shell, to mock him.
But that was enough. What more could he need?
He'd been battling cancer for so many years.
He was used to this oppressive world full of darkness and teeth. The only difference now was that he could fight. Now, his willpower actually meant something.
"I won't let anyone stop me."
Max's screams joined the howls of the hungry wolves. Soon, they rose even above those primal sounds. Max roared to expel his fear and pain and kept fighting.
"Argh!"
One of the beasts' jaws engulfed his arm almost to the elbow. Its fangs sank deep, ripping into skin and flesh. He was trying to ignore the pain, but it got so bad he thought for a second he might pass out.
"You think you can kill me? A mangy mutt like you?"
Max didn't panic. He didn't try to yank his arm out of the beast's jaws. For starters, that would only cost him the arm in the process.
So he pushed.
Instead of pulling away, he shoved deeper into the black wolf's head. He drove the broken sword, practically a knife, further in along with his arm. Blood and brains splattered as the sword burst out the other side. The wolf was undoubtedly dead, but its fangs still clamped tightly around his arm.
With inhuman strength, he pried the creature's jaws open with his free hand, then flung its corpse away like a bag of trash.
The relentless tide of darkness paused for a few seconds. It seemed the creatures could feel fear, realizing he wasn't easy prey.
Max laughed. His whole body ached, and he was bleeding from more places than he could count.
And still, he laughed, loud and full.
He had never felt so incredible.
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He kept slaughtering the creatures. It felt like each of his strikes was getting faster and more precise.
Maybe it was just a feeling, but he didn't care about the facts right now.
Perhaps the blade of his sword was so drenched in blood it had become slicker. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. They fell quickly until only two remained, and then the fearsome beasts chose to flee.
Max had no intention of letting them.
He lunged at one. He didn't knock it down, nor did he stop moving, but he had enough time to stab it half a dozen times, and then it did collapse.
Face against the darkness that felt like skin, Max stabbed it until the creature stopped writhing, biting, and panting in pain. By then, of course, the other wolf had disappeared from sight.
Max stood up, leaning on the corpse with both hands, slowly and with effort.
But apparently, it had been enough.
[You've won your first fight.]
[You've reached Level 2.]
[Restoring HP.]
HP: 15/100 → 100/100
Max swallowed hard.
HP. Health points. You didn't need to be a gaming enthusiast to realize how close he had come to dying. His wounds healed, and the blood staining him disappeared without a trace, even the tears in his clothing, as the number approached one hundred. Convenient.
It meant that, as long as he had one health point left, he could get out of any situation...
Or was it something special because of the level-up?
Well, he could think and search for the answers to all his questions when he found a safe place. He doubted this was one—or any nearby cave or similar spot. What he meant by a safe place was warmth, civilization.
Fantasy worlds were always ancient, too obsessed with a vaguely medieval period, but ancient nonetheless, so it was reasonable to assume he'd stand out in this new world with his modern clothes.
But maybe that was the point. Maybe it marked him as a god's Champion and ensured him a warm reception wherever he went.
Max walked through the grass, among the blood and corpses, toward the horizon.
In any case, he had to find a safe place. And he soon saw it: a small village by the sea, confirming his suspicions from what little he could make out at this distance. In fact, he could see a few ships sailing away, probably carrying goods.
"This is as good a place to start as any."
Max stopped.
Eventually, he'd get used to talking to himself. Did it matter?
No, I suppose not, he thought.
He headed toward the village.
Halfway down the hill, he saw a massive creature rising from the sea and swallowing one of the ships almost whole, as if it were nothing. The remaining vessels, still nearby, fled back to shore.
"What the hell?"
Side Quest: The Great White Serpent
Kill the monster blocking the fishing village of Ethos.
Rewards: Legendary Armor, Legendary Sword
Penalties: Death, if you're lucky
Time Limit: Two days
"Shit," Max muttered.
——
Max reached the village. The pain had disappeared along with his wounds, but he still felt tired. It had been a long walk. He hadn't walked far or for long in years.
It felt great to be able to do so, of course. To have some freedom again. But he was still tired.
Predictably, his strange clothing attracted attention—many stares. No one dared to approach him, whether to shake his hand, try to force him out of the village, or kneel before him, recognizing him as the Champion of Ares.
Maybe it had something to do with his sword. Even though it was broken in half, it was still a weapon.
Or perhaps they thought he was insane.
Either way, the important thing was that they left him alone.
Max walked to the shore, watching the water's calm surface. Calm for now. All the ships had managed to return to land—likely with the crew soiling their pants, by the looks of it. Like he said, it had been a good walk.
And he couldn't blame them for being afraid. Not after witnessing that horrifying spectacle.
Max was scared, too.
That said, he was sure he could kill that beast. He just didn't know how yet.
"Where are you from, stranger?" Someone finally approached him and spoke after all.
Max looked at him. An old man—or at least he seemed old. He might surprise him by saying he was only fifty. Although that must be like having one foot in the grave in a society like this.
At least he'd be easy to defend against if he turned hostile.
Defend?
Shouldn't it be obvious that the best thing was to kill anyone who wanted to harm him? But this was a human being. He had killed those monsters without hesitation, even enjoyed it, he had to admit, but another human was different.
It had to be different.
Right?
He considered saying he was the Champion of Ares, God of War, once again. But in the end, he decided it might not be wise to draw attention when all he had was a broken level-zero sword and a handful of determination.
"From very far away."
"That much is obvious. But if you don't want to tell me, don't. Either way, you've picked a bad time to come here."
"Yeah, I saw on my way here—how that serpent swallowed a ship in one bite. Has it been like this for long?"
"Only a few weeks, but it feels like years when you're being terrorized by a giant sea monster."
A fair point, no doubt.
"Well, you're in luck. I'm here to kill it."
The old man looked him up and down.
"Sure."
"Of course, I'm not going to do it like this. I was attacked… by some wolf-like creatures, and I lost my gear. A series of unfortunate events. If the village can provide armor and a decent sword, I'll kill it. I'll kill it in two days, tops."
He spoke with confidence he didn't quite feel.
Mostly, he thought about the penalties section.
Death, if you're lucky, it said.
He had no hurry to find out what that meant.
"Don't tell me—tell the blacksmith or the mayor."
"Could you tell me where they are?"
The old man sighed and gave him the directions. Perhaps he felt a bit sorry for what he believed was just a crazy young man, hellbent on running to his death for fleeting glory.
Or maybe he just wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
Either way, Max set off.
He arrived at the blacksmith's shop. The man behind the counter's eyes lit up at the sight of him.
"Fancy clothes. You'll be a good customer."
"I don't have any money to pay you." Even if Ares had brought him to this world with some cash, not just a change of clothes and one less illness, it wouldn't have made any difference, of course. It would be nothing more than green paper to them.
They spoke English, or he understood it as if it were English, allowing him to communicate without issue, but there was no way his money would be of any use in this world—that much was clear.
The blacksmith's expression changed instantly. He was younger than Max had initially thought, perhaps the owner's son rather than the owner himself.
"Then what are you doing here? Sorry, but I don't like having my time wasted."
"I don't have money to pay you, but you won't have a penny soon either if that monster keeps lurking outside, blocking the port and devouring any ship that tries to leave or dock. I was hoping you'd provide me with armor and a sword in exchange for using them to kill that monster."
The blacksmith burst into laughter.
Max frowned.
It was natural for them to underestimate him. They didn't know what he knew. Even so, it was irritating. He couldn't wait to show him how wrong he was. To show them all—this guy, the old man, and the whole town.
Because he imagined the news about the newcomer and his suicidal aspirations was already spreading like wildfire.
"Look, stranger, whatever your name is..."
"Max."
"Max. Fine. It's great that you think you can kill that thing on your own, but I'm not wasting my goods on someone I don't know. I have no idea what you're capable of."
Max frowned deeper.
"What if I proved it to you?"
"Huh?"
"Isn't there a task or job I could do for this town? A missing person, a monster infestation, anything. And of course, I'd do it for free."
Money didn't matter to him as much as the experience points he would earn in the process.
He had leveled up thanks to the fight with the dark wolves—or whatever they were called—so he likely had some Stat Points to allocate.
But that was just the beginning.
It might just be a side quest, something optional, but he had no intention of backing down. He hadn't been given a second chance in a world completely unlike his own just to cower and waste the miracle he'd been blessed with.
He would push forward, defeating every enemy in his path without fail.
"We can't pay much anyway," the blacksmith said. "Yes, there's a mission or two for adventurers like you posted at the tavern. Fine. If you don't jump to your death right away, if you prove you can do it, I'll give you my best sword and armor right now. Free of charge, as much as it pains me."
Max nodded.
"I'm glad you've seen reason."
"More like I'm desperate, like the whole town." The blacksmith sighed. "My name's John, kid. Try not to die, okay? If you realize it's too much for you to handle, don't play the hero."
"Of course," Max lied.
As mentioned, he had no intention of backing down.
Besides, he didn't believe this was something he couldn't handle. Ares had brought him to this world, to this place, for a reason. It couldn't be a coincidence.
His fight against the dark wolves had taken place near this town, Ethos, with a perfect view of the massive white serpent in action.
It might just be a side quest, but he believed Ares was pushing him in this direction.
He wasn't anyone's toy. He wouldn't let anyone control him.
But if killing that beast meant earning a ton of experience points and becoming incredibly strong, he wouldn't reject this path just out of pride.
No one needed to know, anyway. And even less when Ares's head rolled and he became the new God of War... naturally.
He didn't want anyone to control him, to have that kind of power over his life. He wanted to be free, and he wouldn't truly be free until Ares was dead.
Besides, taking his place would ensure he never had to fear losing anything again.
——
Fortunately, he didn't have to embarrass himself by asking for help putting on the armor, something Max had, naturally, never done in his life.
John offered to help without him having to say anything.
Maybe it was just normal for someone to need help strapping on so much gear. He never thought armor could have so many damn pieces. It wasn't very comfortable either, but he got used to it over time. He had to. He wouldn't survive without proper protection.
Finally ready, Max set out to do the most classic thing in the fantasy genre: head to the tavern to pick up his first quest.
There wasn't much to choose from (not surprising, considering they couldn't afford to pay much, no matter how many problems they had that an adventurer might solve). In fact, there were only two. So he chose the one that required killing lots of monsters.
An orc nest.
Savage creatures, if he applied his knowledge of fantasy stories as he had so far.
Monsters that destroyed everything in their path but had a certain... weakness for elven maidens, if he applied another kind of knowledge.
Ahem.
In any case, it would be a tough fight.
"But I have the will and the power to overcome it."
Strength: 5 → Strength: 8
Dexterity: 5 → Dexterity: 7
[You have spent your five Stat points from leveling up.]
He wasn't sure if he had made the best decision, but what was done was done. If the System had a Respec function, it probably wouldn't be as easy and convenient as a menu option. He'd likely need to find a special item or something similar first.
Serious RPGs usually allowed you to Respec only once per game—if they allowed it at all.
He set out.
The orcs' base was a cave not far from the town. The main concern—the reason for the quest—was the possibility that the orcs might decide to attack Ethos. Not that they were causing trouble right now.
Max stood at the entrance to the cave and took a deep breath. Reaching the location hadn't been difficult. Finding it hadn't been a challenge—he had simply followed the quest marker.
His armor wasn't particularly flashy. More functional and practical, which he found perfect. He had already drawn his new sword but had kept the broken bastard sword, just in case. It might come in handy. His new equipment was level two—Max chose to believe the cap was perhaps five, maybe ten.
In any case, he was as prepared as he'd ever be.
Max stepped into the darkness with a torch in his left hand and his sword in the other.