Dean had been working in the fields as usual, plowing, sowing, reaping and the like , when he heard a howl, followed by a scream. He ran over to see what was wrong, and he saw a clearly dead girl slumped next to … an abomination. It was a barely describable cross between a fox, plant and snail. It had a slimy exterior and an off putting amount of legs, all of different sizes. Jaws and eyes blinked, stared and gnashed from openings all along its body. But despite its horrible, lopsided and unspeakable form, probably because of it, it looked to be in pain. The eyes that sprouted droit’s body either stared vacantly into space, or thrashed around wildly, all while crying blood. It was always shaking, as if afraid of something, and it’s many mouths let out a constant cacophony of whimpers, cries and stutters. It was at this moment that Dean made his vow: he would protect the people from these monsters, and save these beasts from their suffering.

*****

Years had passed, thousands had died, and Dean failed to keep his vow. To get to the point he was now, he had killed millions of chimaeras by now, all of them struck first, but they all had the same scared, pained, pitiful eyes. Despite having slaughtered millions of chimaeras, he had also failed to save countless lives, and what few lives he did save, were immediately ended. Maybe this was the expected outcome, a few years wouldn’t make him anything other than the farmer he was. Dean could feel himself sliding into despair, he could feel his will power crumbling as his urge to give up grew.

An ethereal, loving and warm voice called out to him.“East for allies, West for pain. South for aid and North for gain.” Regardless of whether the voice was to be trusted, Dean had nothing left. Dean headed East, ready to save the world, or did trying.

*****

It had been six years since he had begun his journey. In the East he had found three others like himself, those who protected the weak but had failed. They were Mirabel, Jared and Chleo. Together they had gone south, where they found powerful weapons, armour and artifacts that could help them defeat the hordes. In the north, they received training from a clan of wanderers who had perfected the art of defeating the chimaeras, salt and water harmed them while blood and fire strengthened them. They only had one more place to go: West.

*****

Spirits were whimsical creatures, as souls that spontaneously came into existence, they were immortal beings who did anything that interested them. Some could spend centuries lazing around, others would spend a few millennia wandering the mortal realm, if that got too boring, they would fight each other in mortal combat until that began to bore them. Some even enslaved themselves to mortals. From there they would spend every moment of their unlimited lives trying to find anything to distract from their unending desire for stimulation.

Given all this information, this conclusion was the obvious result. The Great Spirit, one of the many gods to lay claim to a section of this world, had been helping and nurturing the humans under his protection since before Deans great grandfather’s grandfather had been born. Such a long lived spirit had obviously gone through the many joys and challenges of an immortal life before deciding godhood to be the next step. It seemed that after trying its hand at godhood, The Great Spirit had grown tired of it. It now went by the title, Mad God Ruwent.

Despite all the time spent gaining strength, skill, tools and allies, this was going to be the most difficult battle anyone had ever fought in the history of the entire world. The group readied their weapons and steeled their nerves, they couldn’t lose, it simply wasn’t an option. Dean looked at his friends, the ones he had spent every moment of the last six years with, he smiled at them, knowing full well this would be the last time they saw each other.

*****

Dean could hardly believe his eyes, they were actually winning! Even if barely, they were still winning. It was an uphill battle, they had fought for 5 hours already and the tension was starting to weigh on their nerves.

Ruwent seemed to be a close range berserker type, simply swinging at them with all his strength, relying on the power and durability of his dark shadow like body. After a series of dodges, parries and counter attacks, Chleo finally managed to get a clean hit on him. Her spear had torn a gaping hole through his vaguely human chest.

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“Let me see it! That despair of yours!” Ruwent cackled wildly as his wounds regenerated. Now looking entirely unharmed, a sword grew from his outstretched arms and a dark plate metal armour sprouted from his skin. Now looking like a nightmarish knight he gloated, “How does it feel to get so close, only to have it taken away at the last moment! It must be amazing right! Right!”

Dean shouted back, “No matter how many times you get back up, we won’t give up!”

“You say that now but many have fallen before. This particular technique is one used by the demons of another realm, to purposefully lock away your power, only to reveal it all when your opponent thinks they’ve won!”

*****

The fight only got harder from there. They had inflicted ten fatal wounds on him by now, but after all of them he revealed more strength, forcing them back with every one of their short lived victories. After another deadly wound to Ruwents skull, he lashed out at Mirabel, impaling her on his ominous talons. Mirabel clutched the orange amulet around her neck as she faded away, slowly whispering,

“To protect others - *Cough* over our own lives, is the online reason we’ve come so far. I know you can go much further, even if I can’t come with you.”

With a smile on her face, Mirabel slumped over onto the ground, joining Jared in his peace.

*****

The sun was dawning on a new day. This marked the start of the third day since they began. Chleo had fallen hours ago. Dean was the only one left. Dean was slowing down, he could feel it. Sustained on nothing but ambient mana and willpower, he forged on, waiting for the moment he would end it all.

*Thud*

Dean collapsed onto the ground. Unable to move any further.

“Are you done already? In that case I have a gift for you. Before that though, I would just love to thank you for letting me re-experience the thrill of a mortal battle. Makes me remember my glory days in Valhalla.-“

Ruwent was cut off by the slow thudding of Dean getting back up. Ruwent wasted no time in pushing him back to the ground with his scaled index finger.

“Since you’re so eager for the gift, let me give it to you now then.”

Deans wounds were healed but his head ached as he felt a strange sensation crawling along his mind.

Name: Dean

Level: 32

Race: Human(Age:45)

Titles:Fated Hero, Verdant Blade

Mana:35%

Vitality: 43000100

Endurance: 43000100

Speed: 43000100

Strength: 43000100

Wisdom: 43000100

“My system doesn’t have your skills recorded yet though, the competitive ranking process needs more people to have the system than just us two.” Lightly prodding Dean he taunted, “Try looking at me, I’m sure you’ll love it!”

Name: Ruwent, Umbra, Shortstack, Circadia

Level: 100

Race: Spirit(Age:1867456776503)

Titles:The Great Spirit, The Mad God, Champion of Valhalla

Mana:69%

Vitality: 1.3E28

Endurance: 1.3E28

Speed: 1.3E28

Strength: 1.3E28

Wisdom: 1.3E28

It seemed the ‘system’ couldn’t handle the numbers in Ruwents status, so when it tried to convert them into an understandable format for Dean, his mind nearly fractured under the strain.

“Do you see it now?! It was hopeless from the beginning! You were doomed to fail.”

Dean stood up on shaking feet. Gripping the orange amulet hanging from his neck. The Amulet of Sacrificial Protection. This amulet had the distinct feature of breaking when its wearer took a fatal wound, this ability however, could be silenced, sending all of its wearers strength to another amulet in the vicinity. Naturally, Jared, Chleo and Mirabel had all been wearing them at the time of their deaths.

“No! You are wrong!” He shattered the amulet under his firm grasp. Light flowed freely around him as his friends dying words echoed out in sync with his own, “Protecting others over our own lives is why we got so far! And we will go further, even if they aren’t there to join me!” Tears leaked from Dean’s eyes , “It’s why they all marched to their deaths! And even if I don’t live through this, I’ll be taking you with me!”

Having gained four amulets worth of power and healing, Dean had essentially become four times as powerful and had gained four extra lives. But even with this it was doubtful whether he could win. Banishing such thoughts, Dean ran head long into the battle.

*****

Dean had used all of his ‘extra’ lives, the lives that his friends had sacrificed for him. Ironic considering they had done this through the Amulet of Sacrificial Protection. Even with all the bonuses he had, it was clear Ruwent had let him win. Dean was on the brink of death, he probably wouldn’t make it back home. Dean let out a hearty chuckle. Home . It had been a longtime joke between them; that after all the time spent on the move, they would just … go home. To a home that hadn’t been eviscerated and destroyed. Dean sighed. All this dying and self-pity could wait. He needed to make a wonderful home for his friends to come home to. He laughed wistfully. It was just like his friends to make him live after all he had been through.

As he staggered east, to the old farmhouse he had left behind, he remembered The Mad God’s final words: “At least I won’t have to be bored anymore.”