The glowing veins across my hand pulsed in rhythm with the pounding in my head. Then, like a thunderclap inside my skull, the voice boomed:
“DIRECT CONSUMPTION OF PRIMARY RESOURCE CORE DETECTED… SYSTEM ANALYZING… ANALYZING COMPLETE… PURPOSE DETECTED… SYSTEM ENHANCEMENT SELECTED.”
I clutched my head as if I could stop the voice from tearing through me. Hexa’s usual chatter was absent, replaced by an oppressive silence.
“EVOLUTION COMMENCING… LEVEL ONE EVOLUTION DETECTED… SPECIAL TRAIT AWARDED….. SPECIAL TRAIT AWARDED…….SPECIAL TRAIT AWARDED.”
The words rattled through my being, each one carving itself into my mind. My body burned with an intensity that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
“SOULLESS SKILL DETECTED… SPECIAL TRAIT AWARDED.”
I barely registered the words as I was overwhelmed by a sudden, icy numbness that spread through me like a tidal wave.
“VOID CLASS DETECTED… ANALYZING… LEVEL 4 PERMISSIONS DETECTED… SPECIAL VOID TRAIT FORCIBLY AWARDED.”
It felt like the void itself was dragging me deeper into its abyss, pulling apart every fiber of my existence only to reweave it stronger, darker, and more alien.
“EVOLUTION COMPLETE. VOID ARCHITECT IS NOW VOID SHAPER.”
And then, silence.
The pain ebbed as quickly as it came, leaving behind a cold, electric hum coursing through my body. My breath came in shallow gasps as I struggled to sit up. A surge of raw power crackled beneath my skin, a pulse of darkness that felt both foreign and intoxicating.
“Wolfhart,” Hexa’s voice finally returned, sharp and frantic, “your profile… it’s—”
“Updated,” I finished for her, already sensing the monumental shift. I pulled up the familiar overlay in my mind, watching as it populated with new information:
----------------------------------------
Profile:
Name: Wolfhart Valda-Ashdock
Age: 15
Race: Human (Adult Male)
Class: Void Shaper
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Level: 1
Health: 445/720
Mana: 320/800
Strength: 150
Dexterity: 190
Endurance: 165
Intelligence: 215
Wisdom: 175
Skills:
* Shadow Gate
* Graviton Trap
* Void Barricade
* Mana Adaptable Blood (Active)
* Void Master
* Void Oppression (Active)
* Void That Licks
* Soulless
* Corrupted_(lvl4Rediac4ed)
* Sin Skill: Greed
* Sin Skill: Resentment
* Evolution Trait: Sovereign Ascendance
“Your stats… They’ve increased dramatically, but..”” Hexa cuts in after learning my profile updates fully.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have to. I could feel it, the subtle shift within me, like a thread of hunger had been stitched into my very being. Greed and Resentment hummed faintly in the back of my mind, quiet but undeniable presences, their influence lurking just beneath the surface.
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The description unfolded in my mind like a cold, mechanical whisper. Greed was a passive ability, driving an insatiable need for gain. It didn’t manifest as a direct attack but instead amplified my abilities whenever I sought personal benefit. Resources gathered would yield more; mana drained from enemies would fill my reserves more efficiently. It was a skill designed for exploitation, and it thrummed with a dangerous allure.
SIN SKILL: GREED
Type: Passive
Description: The user's insatiable desire for personal gain manifests as an innate ability to extract maximum benefit from every action.
* Effect: Enhances resource gathering and mana absorption. Gains from defeated enemies and scavenged items are amplified.
* Unique Ability: Mana Drain Amplification – Mana drained from enemies replenishes the user’s reserves at 150% efficiency.
----------------------------------------
Resentment was no less insidious. It sharpened my focus and bolstered my strength in the face of opposition, feeding off my bitterness and anger. The more I felt wronged or opposed, the stronger I became, turning my frustration into a tangible weapon.
SIN SKILL: RESENTMENT TYPE: PASSIVE
DESCRIPTION: FUELED BY BITTERNESS AND ANGER, THIS SKILL TURNS FRUSTRATION INTO POWER. THE MORE OPPOSITION FACED, THE STRONGER THE USER BECOMES.
* Effect: Increases Strength, Dexterity, and Mana Regeneration proportional to the intensity of perceived opposition or wrongdoings.
* Unique Ability: Reprisal Boost – When struck by an enemy, grants a temporary increase in damage output.
“These aren’t just skills, Wolfhart,” Hexa warned. “They’re a pathway to isolation. If people find out—”
“They’ll shun me,” I finished, the weight of her words settling heavily on my shoulders.
As the glow of the living mana faded and the new entries settled into my profile, a chill ran through me. The words "Sin Skill" felt heavier than any other part of my evolution. I didn’t fully understand the implications, but something about it gnawed at the edges of my mind, whispering that these were abilities I shouldn’t have.
“Hexa,” I said, my voice unsteady, “what do people actually know about Sin Skills? I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else with them.”
There was a long pause before her voice finally echoed in my mind. “Sin Skills are... complicated. They’re not forbidden outright, but the stigma surrounding them is almost as bad.”
“Why?” I asked, my brows furrowing. “They’re just skills. Useful ones, even.”
“Because they’re not just skills, Wolfhart. They’re marks—visible signs of deep personal flaws, or at least that’s what the church believes. Sin Skills are seen as a godly warning, a divine punishment that brands those who acquire them as untrustworthy, dangerous, and morally compromised.”
I stared at my hands, the faint mana veins still visible from the integration. “Punishment? For what? I didn’t ask for this.”
“That doesn’t matter to most people. The church preaches that Sin Skills are earned through selfishness, greed, resentment, or betrayal. They mark you as a ‘sinner’ in the eyes of society—a person who’s allowed dangerous emotions or impulses to dictate their path.”
Hexa continued, her voice tinged with what felt like unease. “The Church of the Nexus is deeply ingrained in the Ash Kingdom’s culture—and across much of the Nexus of Worlds, for that matter. They’re not just religious; they’re political, social, and even military forces. Their teachings shape public perception, and one of their core beliefs is that Sin Skills are warnings from the gods.”
I frowned, trying to recall anything I’d learned about the church in my time here. Nothing came to mind.
“Wolfhart,” Hexa said, as if reading my thoughts, “you’ve ignored almost every lecture about the church’s role in society, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “I barely even registered they existed. Back on Earth, I didn’t believe in anything like gods or divine punishment. Religion was just... there. Something other people cared about.”
“That was a mistake,” Hexa said bluntly. “This world isn’t like Earth. The gods are real here—at least, real enough to affect society—and their marks carry weight. The church enforces the idea that anyone with a Sin Skill is inherently flawed, even dangerous. They’ll see you as a potential threat, a cautionary tale, or worse, a heretic.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The word “heretic” hit harder than I expected. “So... what? People will just avoid me? Look at me funny in the streets?”
“It’s more than that, Wolfhart. You’ll be shunned. Ostracized. Even if you try to keep your skills hidden, anyone who finds out will see you as a liability. They’ll think you’re manipulative, untrustworthy, and morally bankrupt. You won’t get allies. You won’t get sympathy. You’ll get fear and suspicion.”
----------------------------------------
Hexa’s words dredged up a memory I’d buried from my first year at the Academy—a lecture I’d tuned out, more focused on sketching the Nexus in my notebook than paying attention to the professor.
“You remember now, don’t you?” Hexa said, her tone cutting.
The fragmented pieces of that long-forgotten lecture floated back into my mind. The professor had spoken about the church’s teachings on Sin Skills, detailing their history as divine warnings. Those who possessed them were often treated as pariahs, their every action scrutinized through the lens of their supposed flaws. The church taught that these skills were gifts from the gods meant to challenge the user to overcome their basest instincts—or else fall deeper into sin.
The professor had even mentioned a phrase that stuck with me now: "A sinner’s mark is not a blessing but a test, and most fail it.”
“Why didn’t you remind me about this earlier?” I asked Hexa, my voice rising.
“I assumed you’d retained at least some of your early education. I didn’t realize you were so... dismissive of the church.”
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “I thought it didn’t matter. None of this mattered back then. I didn’t think the gods were actually watching.”
“They are,” Hexa said softly. “And so is everyone else.”
----------------------------------------
The weight of her words settled over me like a lead blanket. Greed and Resentment weren’t just tools—they were brands, burning into my very identity. My Soulless nature only made it worse. Without emotions to temper my decisions, I’d likely embody the very qualities that would make people fear me: cold, calculating, exploitative.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, my voice cracking. “How am I supposed to navigate this world when everything about me is a walking taboo?”
“You adapt,” Hexa said firmly. “You hide what you can, use what you must, and prove to the world that you’re more than their labels. But Wolfhart, you have to be careful. You’re on thin ice, and one misstep could send you plummeting into a pit you can’t climb out of.”
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the faint glow of the veins on my hand. The gods had given me power, but they’d also cursed me with the weight of their judgment. My path forward wasn’t just about surviving—it was about proving, to myself and the world, that I could control the darkness inside me.
“Fine,” I said quietly. “I’ll figure it out. But if anyone tries to treat me like a villain, they’re going to learn just how wrong they are.”
Hexa’s voice softened. “I hope you’re right, Wolfhart. For both our sakes.”
The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed, every movement stiff and aching from the previous day. My bruises, now a dull purple, served as a constant reminder of how close I’d come to losing everything—not just the living mana but my life. My nose throbbed with every step, a permanent thrum of pain from the beating I’d taken. Hexa had been quiet, which made everything worse. Her silence was more oppressive than her anger ever had been.
As I walked into the Academy, every set of eyes felt like they were on me. Identify was common enough that anyone with the right spell or an enchanted ring could see my profile. It wouldn’t take long before someone saw my evolution: Void Shaper. A class like mine wasn’t just rare; it was outright suspicious, especially with the Sin Skills stamped on my record.
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When I arrived at the sparsely populated Advanced Affinity classroom, Morgana Ash was already there. The only other student in my class for the year, Morgana sat at her desk with her usual effortless poise, her sharp green eyes locking onto me the moment I walked through the door. She gave me a sly smile, brushing a stray strand of her auburn hair behind her ear.
“Wolfhart,” she greeted, her tone amused, “you look like you got hit by a runaway horse.”
“Something like that,” I muttered, avoiding her gaze. I took my seat, pretending to focus on arranging my books and quills.
But Morgana wasn’t the type to let awkward silences slide. She leaned closer, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “You hear the latest gossip? It’s all anyone in the noble circles can talk about.”
I glanced at her, wary but curious. “What?”
“Some group of thieves managed to steal the Crown Prince’s coronation jewel,” she said, her voice tinged with disbelief. “It was a gift from the elves—supposedly infused with their ancient mana. Without it, he won’t be able to gain a Level 1 Evolution Trait.”
My stomach dropped, my mind immediately flashing to the living mana now nestled under my jacket. It couldn’t be. Could it?
Morgana raised an eyebrow at my reaction, her tone becoming more probing. “Apparently, if they don’t find it soon, he’ll have to forgo his birthright entirely. It’s causing chaos behind the scenes. The royal family is scrambling to figure out how the thieves pulled it off.”
I forced a laugh, my voice shaky. “Yeah, that sounds... bad.”
“Bad?” Morgana repeated, her gaze narrowing. “It’s catastrophic. The Crown Prince losing his evolution trait would be a disaster for the kingdom. You’d think they’d have better security for something that important.”
I nodded absently, my mind spiraling. Morgana’s words barely registered anymore. If anyone connected the dots—if they discovered I had the living mana—it wouldn’t just mean trouble. It would mean ruin. Expulsion from the Academy. Losing my only refuge from One-Bill and his lackeys. And worse, being hunted by both the crown and the underworld.
Class began, but I didn’t hear a word of it. The professor’s lecture faded into a dull buzz as my thoughts churned. The Academy had already given me a tenuous sense of safety, but that safety relied on the idea that I was just another student. If my profile—or worse, the living mana—was discovered, everything would come crashing down.
Hexa, ever aware of my mental state, broke her silence. “You’re panicking. Stop. Focus.”
“Easy for you to say,” I thought back bitterly. “You’re not the one who could lose everything.” my thoughts still spiraling.At the end of class, I drifted toward the central plaza.
The central plaza buzzed with energy as students crowded around the massive mana-powered ranking board. The shimmering surface displayed names, team placements, and individual performances from the opening ranking matches, shifting every few seconds as it cycled through the list. Voices overlapped in excited whispers and exclamations, some filled with pride, others tinged with disappointment.
I hesitated at the edge of the crowd, still nursing the dull ache in my ribs from the beating I’d taken. Every movement felt like a reminder of my current weakness, but something pushed me forward. I needed to know how I’d measured up—whether my solo strategy, chaotic as it was, had been enough to make an impression.
Pushing through the throng of students, I craned my neck to see the board. As the names flickered past, I felt my stomach churn. Then, there it was:
12th Place – Wolfhart Valda-Ashdock
My breath hitched, and for a moment, I thought I’d misread. I blinked and looked again, but it was still there. Twelfth place. Higher than I had dared to hope, and well above teams of four that should have had the advantage of coordination and combined skills.
Around me, the murmurs began.
“Twelfth? That’s the solo guy, isn’t it?”
“No way. He ranked above Team Galen? They’re all nobles.”
“How does one person beat teams? That’s not possible.”
“Probably luck. Or cheating.”
The last comment stung, but I forced myself to focus on the screen instead of their words. I knew better. There had been no cheating—just raw determination, desperation, and an iron focus on survival. It was messy, and it hurt like hell, but it had worked.
As I stood there, staring at my name, the reality of my situation began to sink in. Twelfth wasn’t just a number. It was validation, proof that I wasn’t as far behind as I’d feared. That despite the stigma of my class, the whispers about me, and the bruises on my body, I could still hold my own.
But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.
I clenched my fists, ignoring the dull pain in my knuckles. The ranking was a start, but the capital of Ash had shown me the limits of what I could achieve here. This wasn’t a place where I could thrive—not as a second son, not as someone with Void powers, and certainly not with One-Bill’s bounty hanging over my head.
The thought of being a second son gnawed at me. I wasn’t alone in that—most of the Academy’s students were second sons, sent here to forge their own paths because their elder siblings were destined to inherit everything. But the difference was stark: they came with the backing of noble families, with gold, connections, and carefully laid plans. I had nothing but a fading fishing village to my name and a family struggling just to survive.
Being a second son in Valda-Ashdock meant you were disposable—a pawn for the kingdom’s needs, sent to fight, defend, or die so the village could thrive. Here, it meant you were expected to carve out your future through power, influence, or sheer audacity. I was starting to see that even here, the system was rigged. The nobles had their safety nets, their mentors, and their resources. I had... me.
Hexa’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Twelfth place, Wolfhart. That’s impressive. With refinement, you could easily climb higher.”
“Maybe,” I muttered under my breath. “But not here. The capital of Ash has taught me all it can.”
Hexa was quiet for a moment before responding. “You’re thinking about leaving.”
“Not thinking,” I said, my voice firm. “Deciding. This place isn’t meant for someone like me. It’s time to move on.”
As the crowd continued to murmur around me, I felt a strange mix of emotions. There was pride in what I’d accomplished—twelfth place as a solo competitor wasn’t just luck—but also a deep frustration. This city, this Academy, was supposed to be the gateway to power, but instead, it had become a cage. Every step I took forward came with chains pulling me back: the nobles who would always look down on me, the whispers about my class, and now, One-Bill and his threats.
I thought of Valda-Ashdock, of my father and Halrik fighting off raids while I tried to find my way here. My family didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. They didn’t have the option to break down when things got hard. They survived. They endured. And here I was, standing in the capital, with power and potential that should have been a blessing but felt more like a curse.
The ranking board flickered again, and I glanced at the names above mine. Names of nobles, prodigies, and those who had everything handed to them. I was proud of twelfth place, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough if I stayed here.
“This is just the beginning,” I muttered, more to myself than to Hexa. “It’s time to leave the starter city.”
Hexa’s voice was calm, but there was a hint of approval in her tone. “You’re thinking like a MMO player again.”
“I know,” I said, the faintest smile tugging at my lips. “That’s the point.”
The murmurs of the crowd faded as I turned away from the board. My bruises still ached, my nose throbbed, and my mana reserves felt like they’d been wrung dry, but none of that mattered anymore. I had a plan. I didn’t know exactly where I’d go or how I’d get there, but I knew one thing: the capital of Ash wasn’t the end of my journey. It was just the tutorial zone.
The whispers followed me as I walked away, but I didn’t care. Let them talk. Let them wonder. I had proven I could survive, and now, I would prove I could thrive.