Muck and ooze squelched loudly as Jonathan levered himself out of the sucking morass of filth that he had landed in. The realm of Mire was one of decay and rot, filled with the stench of plant matter left to stew in its own bacterial juices for eons. However, it was full of life as well, and Jonathan could see monsters moving everywhere that he looked.

It was far livelier than the Ash Heaps, and although it was disgusting, after months of living in the sterile first circle of the Hells, Mire was a welcome sight. Jonathan burned the dirt off himself with his Void powers, and started to walk out into the mud. There were stones hidden under the muck, which he could find easily enough with his enhanced senses. When he dropped his foot, he could feel the difference in the motion of the mud that indicated the presence of something beneath.

More importantly, the amount of mana in the atmosphere was incredible, allowing him to draw upon his rune not for simple sustenance, but for an actual boost to his regeneration. It felt good to finally be able to breathe, and take as much as he wanted from the realm’s mana.

The only problem was that the circle lord could move freely. Jonathan needed to get his bearings, and the best place to do so would be in a city. He had no doubt that the circle lord already knew of his arrival, but he was sure that nobody knew what he looked like. With a single look back to where the portal had been, he set off on his way. He could tell that he could open the portal at any time, connecting the two realms for as long as he held the connection. It would be a good way to escape if he ever was in trouble.

As he walked across the morass, he soon spotted the first monster of the new realm. It looked like a vulture, covered in matted feathers, weighed down by a cloak of thick muck. However, it was still capable of flight. It moved across the sky far more quickly than it had any right to, reminding Jonathan of his priorities. It was time to finally let go and rank up. With a quick flex of his will, his essence rushed into his body, and he felt power surging through him.

Congratulations, Jonathan Harlowe! You have reached Tier 3!

Prepare to be reborn.

Unlike the last time, the changes being made to his body were far more minor, as his digestive system was not being overhauled. Instead, his body burned as power rushed through it, empowering his form. He clenched his fists, exulting in the power that he could almost taste. The process lasted for about ten minutes, and he was quickly met with more notifications.

You have reached Tier 3!

You have gained 50 points in each stat (accounting for multipliers).

Your body is naturally more durable, and able to use a greater fraction of your total strength.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

You have gained 10 points in Divinity.

You now need a higher concentration of mana, proportional to your level. Current inhibition is 0%, as you are using Tier 3 mana to operate. Maximum inhibition is 75%.

You now have access to Tier 3 classes.

The most welcome change by far was the increase to his Divinity. It seemed that it would double every Tier up, or at least it looked that way given his previous reserves. Power beyond simply stats coursed through his body, the result of the multiplier that he gained simply for having ranked up. Rather than try to choose his new class now, he headed towards a nearby castle rising out of the ooze, wanting some safety before he lost himself.

The castle was far larger than he had expected, and far further away too. It looked to be populated as well, as a steady stream of traffic came out of one side, ranging from fighters striding across the ooze to traders riding on the backs of massive toads, their wares strapped to their mounts. Jonathan could tell that he would blend in here easily enough.

By the time he reached the gates, he had managed to insert himself into the line, pretending to be a part of a large group of soldiers who were clearly a mercenary company, going by their lack of standardized uniform. None of them paid him much attention.

Following in their wake, Jonathan entered the citadel, which surprisingly enough had no entrance toll. Once he entered, he was immediately struck by the difference between the interior and the exterior. It was almost like he had stepped into a different world. The omnipresent filth was gone, save for the tracks left by the travelers. It was tidy, and well put together, with rows of homely taverns and shops. A lot of space was saved because of the lack of a need for food production, but there was still a bit of land set aside for the needs of the realm’s children. No matter the Tier of the parents, children were not born at anything more than Tier 1, save for exceptional cases.

Jonathan sidled away from the mercenary company and towards a nearby tavern. It was a lot cleaner and quieter than he might have expected, but he soon found the reason. There was a guard, clad in thick plate armor, sitting by the bar. An aura of concentrated power surrounded him, easily that of a mid Tier 3. Despite this, Jonathan felt confident that he could take the fighter in a battle. He was far stronger than his own level would suggest.

“What’s the matter? Brain addled by the rot?” The man called out in a deep voice. “You’ve been staring at me like I owe you money or something.” The man’s eyes unfocused for a moment, and then he nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Ah. You’re new here. I can tell by your level. Never seen someone as powerful as me, have you?”

“No,” Jonathan replied half heartedly, annoyed that he was wasting time.

“No, what?” The man asked, cupping one hand to his ear. At this point, the entire tavern was watching the exchange, briefly forsaking their tankards of ale.

“If you expect me to call you sir, or something like that, then I believe you’re misjudged my character. Just because you’re a higher level than me does not mean I have to debase myself.”

“You little shit!” The man shouted, clearly not used to being denied. A gasp rang out across the tavern at Jonathan’s defiance. He simply grinned beneath his helm.

“Not as little as your manhood. What, are you compensating for something with that massive sword on your back? Is it just for show?”

Normally Jonathan would have simply gone along with the man and not wasted time, but he was not in the mood to be disrespected. He had just killed a being of mythical status, and now was the lord of the Ash Heaps. Some random peon was not his equal.