Many years ago there was a girl. She lived on a farm in the Stadal Empire.

She was a farmer born into a small family of farmers.

Then the System arrived.

The girl's name was Volcatia Scipio, and at the time she was first struck by a bolt of electricity, the first blue Status Window in the world appeared to her.

You have been chosen by Sateus.

Victory be upon you.

It was quickly followed by the second blue Status Window.

System Knowledge increases to 1.

Then the third.

New class acquired:

Lightning Eater now rank 1!

1 unused skill point remaining

Information flooded into her mind in that moment.

She understood the base workings of the System.

She understood that the System existed.

"Dismiss all?" she said with hesitation in her words, wondering whether she was dreaming.

Many were the times she'd wished she was dreaming over the years, beginning with the death of her mother.

The blue Status Windows vanished, just as she'd expected.

She wasn't dreaming.

The twelve year-old girl pushed herself to her feet, her legs still shaky.

She'd just been struck by fulmen, after all.

She took a step towards the rocky incline she'd just come down.

A blue Status Window appeared.

System Knowledge increases to 10.

Volcatia Scipio frowned. She suddenly knew more things. "Dismiss," she said again, and the blue Status Window disappeared.

She took another step, and another blue Status Window appeared.

System Knowledge increases to 100.

She walked home that day, and with each step, another blue Status Window appeared.

After fewer than two dozen steps, a final window showed itself to her.

System Knowledge increases to 18,446,744,073,709,551,615.

It was a strange number, far larger than any other she'd ever heard of. In fact, it was a number so large that she didn't even know the words to name it.

She knew, however, that the number could not increase beyond this, and she would never again acquire any points in the System Knowledge stat.

As she continued to walk home, her young mind whirling in an attempt to digest all the new thoughts she'd gained, she realized she was seeing small patches of light here and there every so often.

She thought they were weird-looking, but she also knew what they were.

They were Stat Fields.

When a person known to the System entered a Stat Field and performed a particular action, they gained stat points as decided by the type of the Stat Field and the action performed.

This was, she now knew, different than other times when a person might gain stats during Initialization or from battling rift spawns, which would soon begin to appear in patches of fog at the same place she'd seen her first Status Windows and everywhere southwards throughout the ravines and gulches which lay to the north of Onyxfell.

She also knew that her class was Unique, which meant that nobody else would ever be able to obtain it.

Volcatia Scipio was not a smart girl, but she was too young to know that. She arrived home safely, and she immediately rushed to find her brother so she could tell him about what had happened. "Status!" she declared as she stood in front of him, and her own small Status Window appeared, displaying the lone stat she'd gained.

Her brother was thrilled when she told him what she knew. He began asking questions about what kinds of stats there were and whether there might be any which could strengthen her so that she wouldn't struggle for breath.

He never once thought to use her ability for himself.

Opiter Laetorius Scipio was a true hero.

A legend.

The twelve year old Volcatia Scipio realized with the help of her brother that she could gather stats to improve her condition, and the two set out to do exactly that.

Her brother carried her all over the nearby areas while she directed him towards Stat Fields she knew existed. He dug deep holes in the ground so she could stand at the bottom and hop up and down on one leg. He spent days splitting open massive boulders so she could take a nap on one of the halves. He never begged off once, only continuing to encourage her.

She'd told him of her dream to accomplish his old dream, and he wanted to aid his little sister however he could, having made peace with his own way of life years earlier.

Time passed, and she became able to gather stats for herself.

Her brother urged her to acquire stats which would make her smarter and wiser so that she could come up with even more clever ideas, but the System didn't work that way: a person was only as smart, and wise, and clever as they were.

Besides, she already knew what she would need if she wanted to fight in the Arena, the holiest of places for any citizen of the Empire.

She'd first gathered points in Stabilitas, and her breath became steady no matter how she ran or played.

Next she began to increase her Vis, and she grew strong enough to lift an entire cart with one hand.

She would need to be fast in order to battle the greatest gladiators, she knew, so she sought out points in Celeritas, becoming able to sprint back and forth to Onyxfell in minutes, the trip usually requiring two or three hours by equus.

She would need more than just speed and strength, however. The gladiators of Onyxfell had always been incredibly powerful warriors even before the System, and she imagined its arrival would only make them stronger.

Then she talked to her father one day, and he spoke of the stats he'd gotten. They were useless to him, and he had no idea what effects they had or even whether they had any effects at all.

He had the System, unlike her brother, but he had no knowledge of it.

Those he'd spoken with in Onyxfell when selling their harvests were the same.

She'd grown excited at the idea that she alone possessed such knowledge, but her brother had rubbed his knuckles into her head and told her to return to her training because overconfidence would defeat her.

She'd need skills, she knew, which could be gained from classes.

She knew all the classes.

She knew all the skills.

There were too many to choose from.

She decided to cultivate the Unique class she'd gotten, knowing that it was capable of things she couldn't comprehend.

Things that seemed impossible.

Day after day she climbed back down into that rocky ravine and was electrocuted by the same fulmen which, if it touched the ground, would create monsters known as rift spawns.

Her class grew in power, and it granted her the abilities she sought.

She could create fulmen from her body and command it with her will.

She became stronger.

She could see hints of the future as it would happen in the next moments.

Her favorite thing to do was to run fulmen through her long braid, causing it to stick up into the air as it crackled and thrummed with blue light.

Volcatia and Opiter Laetorius Scipio visited the Arena in Onyxfell as often as they could, which was very often because she could now carry him all the way to the city gates in a matter of minutes.

None of the gladiators displayed abilities like hers.

Some brazenly showed their Status Windows off, and she took stock of their abilities.

They were weak.

So was she, though she thought herself strong.

The time of her first fight arrived.

She registered under her own name.

She fought while her hair sparked and flickered with blue light.

She taunted her opponent and the crowd, just as she'd practiced.

It was an easy Victory.

She could see her low-ranked opponent's attacks before they were made, and she could move far faster as well.

She and her brother had decided that she shouldn't use any of her more unusual abilities to fight directly in case they was deemed to be against the law.

With the arrival of the System, the aging Imperatrix had been altering the laws of the Empire to react to the changes its citizens were undergoing. Thefts were becoming more frequent against the wealthier citizens, and the existing ways of dealing with such crimes weren't able to contend with those who had System-given skills and stats.

Volcatia Scipio would learn more of this in time, but now, after her first battle, she and her brother celebrated as they walked out of the city.

Suddenly, a man in armor appeared before them.

His name was Herius Acilius Mellitus, and he had been the strongest gladiator in all of Onyxfell since before the System come to be.

"Imperatrix Aquila wants to meet you," he said to the young Volcatia Scipio.

And she did.

Opiter Laetorius Scipio waited outside with a feeling of awe while his sister spoke with the ruler of the Empire.

The Imperatrix had a keen mind. She heard of a new gladiator with hair that flickered and flashed, and she immediately knew that this was a new type of skill she'd never seen before.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

She was the Imperatrix, but she was known as a fair one as well as having been a legend on the battlefield, which was why she had gained such favor with her people.

She offered Volcatia Scipio a simple bargain.

"Aid me, and I will aid you in kind," said the Imperatrix on that day.

The fifteen year-old Volcatia Scipio trembled with excitement.

The Imperatrix herself?

Asking for her aid?!

Not even a second passed before she accepted.

Volcatia Scipio began a new life.

In her free time, she would visit the Imperatrix and learn to fight, whether from the old woman herself, who was still a fearsome brawler able to split stone using her bare hand, or from Herius Acilius Mellitus or his son, Herius Sentius.

In return, she taught the Imperatrix about the System, though the knowledge in itself was of little use without the stats to make use of it.

The Imperatrix still gained value, however, and she was able to devise new plans from what she learned. The city's existing districts were set with laws restricting who was able to live where based on their stats as a way to track the more powerful citizens. The first district was the most restrictive, requiring citizens to show their status prior to entering in order to determine whether one might be entering for the purpose of stealing.

Young Volcatia Scipio battled in the Arena and elsewhere daily, forging herself into a gladiator who would be able to fulfill her brother's dream. She split her time between farm work and being with her family, training and talking with the Imperatrix, and battling.

She made friends among some of the younger gladiators, who were amazed by her prowess and demeanor, and she began to also spend time in the city, speaking, sparring, or fucking with them as she pleased.

Years passed, and Volcatia Scipio had grown far stronger.

She had yet to lose a single battle in the Arena, and she never would.

She knew that she wouldn't.

She was arrogant.

She was an idiot.

The Imperatrix was growing older, and she worried that she'd never found time to have an heir.

Volcatia Scipio had grown fond of the old woman, and she used her System Knowledge to find stats which would recover youth and extend life.

The Imperatrix was shocked.

She'd never considered the matter as she believed, like all Stadalites do, that death was the final Victory one could seek after a life well-lived.

She was the Imperatrix, however, and her responsibility was greater than simply seeking her own Victory.

In return for her service, Volcatia Scipio gained the favor of the Imperatrix, and the city was hers. She was given quarters in the imperial palace itself, permitted to call the Imperatrix by her name, and entered into the imperial family register as the niece of the Imperatrix, though the woman had never had siblings.

Volcatia Scipio could never become an Imperatrix, but she'd never wanted to either.

She was a gladiator, though she'd forgotten by now why she'd ever wanted to become one.

In the beginning, her father had attended some of her battles, but he stopped soon after.

He was disgusted by how she mocked and taunted those she fought.

"You lessen the Victory of your opponents when you behave like this!" he shouted at her one night after she'd asked why she hadn't seen him in some time at the Arena.

And this was true.

The Stadalites had long held the belief that there was still Victory in defeat for those who fought bravely and to the limits of their abilities. With her jeers and taunts, she reduced that smaller Victory, and there were those faithful to Sateus who despised her for it.

Her father declared that he wouldn't attend a single one of her battles until she found respect for her opponents.

Young, overwhelmed with her power and success, and foolish, Volcatia Scipio accepted this and continued on as she had.

She was having fun, and that was what mattered to her.

Opiter Laetorius Scipio still came as often as he was able, cheering the loudest of any, and it was he who began the first chant of what would become her nickname when she finally reached the two hundredth rank.

Time had passed, and Volcatia Scipio now had a different life.

She still accomplished her chores on the farm as she'd promised, but she lived in Onyxfell now and rarely returned to her family's old farmhouse north of the city.

She spent more time with friends who sang her accolades and praises with their every word and less time with the Imperatrix.

She became known to Laberia Salonina, who had solidified her own position within the uppermost reaches of the rankings, and learned more, different ways of fighting under the woman's watchful eye.

She battled in the Arena daily, but she now fought only for her own Victory.

She gathered stats and honed her skills, but it was simply out of excitement at seeing the numbers increase in her Status Windows.

Volcatia Scipio was eighteen, and she was ranked first of all the tens of thousands of gladiators in Onyxfell.

She had become Scorpio Fulminis with an unerring, coruscating stinger.

During her rise, however, she'd taken an action that confused and then worried some in the Empire.

In her first fight, she'd bet every mark she had on her own Victory.

In every fight after, she'd done the same.

The idea had been her brother's, a challenge to his little sister over the few marks she'd earned helping him transport their produce.

As time passed, she'd become more and more wealthy.

She was undefeated, but still the betting odds were against her when she fought higher-ranked opponents.

She intentionally won only slight Victories, also at her brother's early suggestion.

By the time she'd become first-ranked, she was so wealthy that there could never be enough marks in existence to represent the sum, and she had long since been banned from ever betting on herself again within the bounds of the Empire.

Scorpio Fulminis didn't care.

What the fuck would she do with that much money anyway?

She was just betting for fun.

The fun continued for years as she defended her ranking and her undefeated streak.

Her skills continued to grow, and her ability to peek into the future had strengthened.

She could now see nearly a full minute ahead, though she was left with a pounding headache afterwards if she watched to that limit.

It was impossible for her to lose.

She could see an entire battle in her mind before each action she took.

Her talks with Aquila changed.

An Imperatrix should be more fun and exciting, shouldn't she?

Aquila would sit, reviewing stacks of paper, which were now reliably produced and delivered by the recently-arrived Char hero, who was said to be making all manner of changes to the city.

Scorpio Fulminis watched as she had all types of conversations with the old woman who looked young, learning all types of information that she wouldn't otherwise have known.

Aquila was still the Imperatrix though, and she was no fool, though Scorpio Fulminis was too young to think of such things.

Too young to think of many things.

More time passed, and it had now been three years since she had become the top-ranked of all gladiators.

When betting odds declined, Scorpio Fulminis was put into battles against multiple gladiators in sequence, then against multiple gladiators at the same time, and finally against many groups of gladiators over the course of hours.

She was the strongest.

She was the fastest.

She did not tire.

She could see every attack before it was made.

She wasn't even fighting to the limit of her abilities.

Why wouldn't she continue to taunt and mock her opponents when they were so pitifully slow and weak compared to her?

Opiter Laetorius Scipio stopped attending her battles.

He'd come to talk to her one day after a certain fight, saying something about a farm needing help, but she'd been invited to a celebration at the villa of her close friend, Marcus Camelius Belenus, a distant relative of Aquila, and her mind had been full of all the fun she'd soon be having.

She said all the things she usually said to her somewhat annoying brother and sent him off, and then she spent the remainder of the day in revelry.

An argument broke out during the celebration.

Marcus Tertinius Belenus, one of the most pious gladiators and ranked fourth, accused Scorpio Fulminis of being unfaithful to Sateus with the way in which she ridiculed the other gladiators.

There were many who shared his view among the gladiators and even among those who called themselves friends to Scorpio Fulminis, like Marcus Camelius Belenus, the younger brother of Marcus Tertinius.

Laberia Salonina was one of the few who dissented, stoically taking upon herself the fault for her losses and stating that ridicule might be justified from a gladiator who could battle every day for six years without once failing to claim Victory.

Marcus Tertinius Belenus wouldn't hear of it, and on that day he challenged Scorpio Fulminis to a death match, the first in years, saying that he couldn't bear to live under the same sky as someone like her.

The day of the battle was set, and signs to advertise it were posted all over the city. The citizens of the Empire were divided in their support between the two top gladiators, though they didn't know the reason for the momentous occurrence.

Marcus Tertinius Belenus abstained from fighting in the Arena until the battle, saying that he refused to fight in a place that was sullied by her presence.

Scorpio Fulminis continued to battle every day, though there were few who would challenge her or accept a challenge now.

Opiter Laetorius Scipio arrived at the door to her quarters in the palace one morning, his breath heavy as though he'd been running.

"Vol, you have to stop," he pleaded. "This isn't who you are."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Scorpio Fulminis replied as she sipped from a decanter of wine, lounging on her favorite sofa.

"Remember what we talked about? How you wanted to be someone who could inspire people? How you wanted to show—"

"That's what you wanted," she snapped as she got to her feet. "I just wanted to have fun! I wanted Victory after being so fucking weak for so long! I wanted to be able to live my life!"

They argued, but it was brief.

Scorpio Fulminis already knew what he would say before he said it.

Opiter Laetorius Scipio left soon after.

He never returned.

The battle of words between Scorpio Fulminis and Marcus Tertinius Belenus continued until the day of their battle in the Arena.

Onyxfell became a frenzy of anticipation.

The day arrived, and the Arena was so filled with spectators that gladiators were hired to hold up platforms to provide extra levels for people to stand on.

Marcus Tertinius Belenus began the bout by mimicking Scorpio Fulminis herself, offering her a free strike against him as a way of displaying his disdain.

Scorpio Fulminis had already known that he would though, and she mocked him even more severely by questioning whether he'd truly been praying instead of fighting or whether he'd really been using it as an excuse to spend time with one of his lovers.

She'd grown tired of the man.

Somehow he managed to needle her in ways that nobody else was able, and she hated it.

She decided to claim the entirety of the Victory for their match, so incensed was she.

Scorpio Fulminis used one of her skills that she'd never before displayed in an Arena battle, a skill she'd used only when training against the rift spawn north of Onyxfell while gathering stats.

Her hand passed straight through his scutum and chest, and she crushed his heart, killing him instantly.

She departed the Arena without even giving a Victory speech, as if to say that the fight hadn't been worth her time.

Days passed.

She fought as she did.

She celebrated as she did.

She had fun as she did.

Something annoyed her though, and she decided to try to stop the nagging in her head by visiting her father and brother for the first time in weeks.

Maybe even months.

When she arrived at her family's farmhouse, nothing was as it had been.

The house itself was crushed and destroyed.

The barn was a smoking heap of rubble.

The fields were no longer flat as they had been and were now wavy and hilly, with the crops torn up and thrown about.

She rushed forward, calling for her brother, calling for her father as she…

A trail of blood began where the front door of the house had been.

She followed it slowly and with something growing in the pit of her stomach that she hadn't felt in many years.

Dread.

At the edge of a field, she found two bodies.

One was her father, and a bloody hole had been punched through his chest.

The other was her brother, and his fate was the same.

She fell to her knees and screamed.

The nightmare of her childhood had come back to her, and now it had claimed the remainder of her family.

This was different though.

This wasn't an illness.

Someone had killed them.

Killed her father.

Killed her brother.

Who.

Who would do such a thing?!

She rushed back to Onyxfell and sought out Aquila, the one person she felt she could trust, and demanded an answer.

Aquila saw that she was wroth from grief and sent her to her quarters, saying there would be a search.

She waited.

Time passed, and still she waited.

At last, when she could wait no more, she sought out Aquila again and again demanded an answer.

Aquila turned from her desk, seeming again to be the same old woman she'd first encountered.

Marcus Camelius Belenus had done the deed out of vengeance for the dishonor shown to his brother.

Volcatia Scipio sank back onto one of the sofas that Aquila kept in her document studying room.

Marcus Camelius Belenus?

The same Marcus Camelius Belenus who had claimed to be her friend?

"But…why?" she asked, unable to understand what she'd just heard.

It had been a battle to the death.

She never lost.

The one who would find Victory had been decided before that battle even began.

"I'll kill him," she decided.

Aquila watched her, but she took no action and said nothing in reply.

"Shouldn't you be telling me not to?" Volcatia Scipio asked. "He's your kin."

"Will killing him be a Victory for you?" Aquila asked.

Volcatia Scipio felt the world fall away from her.

Or maybe it was then that she began to drift away from the world.

Victory.

It had been all-consuming to her for so long, but what was even the fucking point of it now?

Why did she fucking care so much?

Why did anyone care?

What the fuck even was Victory?

Had it helped her mother, when she'd died to the same lingering, gasping cough that her daughter had inherited?

Had it helped her father, who had seen that his daughter had lost all sense of herself but lacked the strength to aid her?

Had it helped her brother, who had died because of the very dream he'd once had?

Had it helped her, a girl who had once wanted nothing more than to achieve the dream that her brother had given up in order to nurture her?

A girl who had killed that same brother and her own father in pursuit of something that wasn't even what she'd wanted?

Fuck victory.

"I'll…kill him later," Volcatia Scipio said slowly, feeling a sense of lifelessness steal over her.

Maybe she would.

Later would mean that Marcus Camelius Belenus might have a lover, maybe even children.

He would feel the pain that she felt now.

Or maybe she wouldn't bother.

She felt no pain, now that she considered it, only a deep hollowness in her chest.

What she knew at that moment was that she didn't want to be where she was anymore.

She didn't want to be who she was.

What she was.

What she'd become.

Volcatia Scipio left Onyxfell on that day after telling only a single person.

She took with herself a pouch of thousand-mark coins and nothing more.

She didn't know whether she'd ever come back.

What would be the fucking point?