When the last of the tribesmen finally left the cave, silence returned.
Heavy.
Thick.
Almost suffocating.
Demos moved slowly across the stone floor, his eyes scanning the dim interior.
He found a flat stone slab near the wall.
Covered in animal fur.
Rough, but clearly used for resting.
It would do.
Without hesitation, he lowered himself onto it.
His body still ached, but now… it was different.
Not weakness.
Something else.
He exhaled slowly and opened the system interface.
SYSTEM INTERFACE
Name: Demos S. Sparta
Age: 15
Level: 1
Health: 26/100
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Intelligence: 10
Abilities: (Sealed)
Unique Abilities:
Five-Colored Lightning — Sealed
Ice Age — Sealed
Language Pack: Azuran Language Installed
Skill: Hand-to-Hand Combat (Level 1)
Mission: THE FIRST TASK – Survive for 20 minutes (✓ Complete)
Reward: +2 Strength, +2 Agility
Mission: BECOME THE LEADER OF A DYING TRIBE (✓ Complete)
Reward: One-Handed Axe
Punishment: Instant Death
Pre-recorded Message: ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
Demos squinted.
"Pre-recorded…?"
His finger hovered.
Then he tapped it.
A voice filled the space instantly.
Warm.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
Voice: "Hi, my baby boy. It seems you finally found the recording I left you as a guide for this system."
Demos froze slightly.
"…Baby boy?"
The voice continued calmly, ignoring his reaction.
Voice: "System points are what you use to grow stronger—Strength, Agility, Intelligence. You decide where they go."
Demos listened carefully.
No interruptions.
No wasted words.
Voice: "You also have an inventory. Think of it, and it will appear. It stores items in a separate space."
Demos frowned slightly.
He followed the instruction.
Inventory.
The system responded instantly.
A weapon appeared in his vision.
He focused.
A large one-handed axe materialized into existence beside him.
He reached out—
And grabbed it.
Real.
Heavy.
Cold.
His eyes widened slightly.
"…Beautiful."
The axe shimmered under the cave light.
Silver metal with ancient engravings running along the blade like living scripture.
Soft blue runes pulsed faintly within the steel.
The handle was dark wood, wrapped in gold filigree, perfectly balanced like it was made for war itself.
It didn't feel like a weapon.
It felt like a relic.
Something alive.
The voice spoke again.
Pulling him back.
Voice: "You will gain system points from what you create, the techniques you teach, and mission completion."
Demos placed the axe carefully beside him.
Still listening.
Still learning.
Finally understanding how this world worked.
He opened the system again.
SYSTEM UPDATE
Name: Demos S. Sparta
Age: 15
Level: 1
Health: 95/100
Strength: 12
Agility: 12
Intelligence: 10
Abilities: All Sealed
Unique Abilities:
Five-Colored Lightning — Sealed
Ice Age — Sealed
Language Pack: Azuran Language
Skill: Hand-to-Hand Combat (Level 1)
Then—
It happened.
Demos selected the final points.
Strength.
Agility.
Confirmed.
The air shattered.
A scream erupted from Demos' throat.
"AAAAAAAAHHH—!!"
It wasn't just pain.
It was rewriting.
Outside the cave, every tribesman froze instantly.
Even the wind seemed to stop moving.
A suffocating pressure spilled from the cave like something awakening that should have stayed dead.
Inside, Demos collapsed instantly.
His body convulsed violently.
Veins burned.
Bones felt like they were being reforged from the inside.
His vision blurred.
Flashed.
Then went dark.
When he came to—
Silence.
Breathing.
Cold stone beneath him.
His body… was whole.
No wounds.
No bruises.
No blood.
Nothing.
Demos slowly sat up.
His eyes widened slightly as he inspected his arms.
Smooth.
Perfect.
Repaired.
"…What?"
Then the feeling hit him.
Heavier strength.
Sharper reflexes.
A body that no longer belonged to the weak version of him.
And then—
Memories that weren't his.
Flash fragments.
Fighting techniques.
Battle instincts.
Movement patterns.
But not his life.
Someone else's experience layered inside his mind like borrowed instinct.
His breath slowed.
"…This system…"
Before he could continue—
A voice echoed.
Inside his head.
Demos froze.
Slowly turned.
Nothing was there.
He grabbed the axe instantly and dropped into a stance.
Empty.
No one.
Then—
Laughter.
Soft.
Unsettling.
Voice: "Hahahaha! Hey, hey, hey! That's not how you greet your mother."
Demos narrowed his eyes.
"…So this is how you contact me?"
Voice: "How rude."
A pause.
Voice: "Yes. This is the only method I could use."
Demos didn't lower his guard.
Demos: "Why am I here? What is this place? What happened to Sparta? Who brought me here?"
His grip tightened.
Demos: "And who are you? Stop calling yourself my mother."
A brief silence.
Then—
The tone changed.
Voice: "I am the one who brought you here."
Voice: "I did it to rebuild Sparta… and gather the four races."
Demos frowned instantly.
Demos: "Four races? Sparta only has three."
A cold laugh.
Voice: "No. Sparta always had four."
Demos: "That's impossible."
The pressure in the air shifted slightly.
Voice: "The fourth race was sealed. Only King Leonidas S. Sparta… and I knew."
Voice: "The First Queen."
Demos' eyes sharpened.
"…The First Queen is dead. So is the King. The Blood Rain—"
A soft laugh interrupted him.
Voice: "Hahaha… so that's what they call it now."
Demos: "Wait… your 'masterpiece'?"
Silence.
Then—
A colder tone.
Voice: "I found your father dead."
Demos froze slightly.
Demos: "So he really died…"
Voice: "Not important."
Demos: "…Fair. But how am I your son?"
A pause.
Then—
A quieter answer.
Voice: "Yes… and no."
Demos narrowed his eyes.
"…Explain."
The pressure changed instantly.
It crushed down.
Demos dropped to one knee.
The cave trembled slightly.
Blood trickled from his mouth.
Voice: "Watch your tone."
His breath shook.
The pressure vanished.
Silence returned.
Demos wiped his mouth slowly.
Now fully aware.
This wasn't just a voice.
This was power.
Divine power.
The voice continued.
Voice: "I found you in a ruined underground prison."
Voice: "Half-dead."
Demos listened silently.
Voice: "You were my blood. But I didn't even recognize you."
A pause.
Voice: "Until I saw your hair. S. Sparta lineage."
Her voice darkened.
Voice: "I entered your memories."
Demos stiffened slightly.
Voice: "You were imprisoned… before Sparta fell."
Voice: "Because you were the illegitimate son of the king."
Demos didn't speak.
Voice: "After seeing your condition… I tried to heal you."
The tone changed.
Colder.
Heavier.
Voice: "I tore my celestial veins to keep you alive."
Demos' eyes widened slightly.
Voice: "But it wasn't enough."
Voice: "Your body began to disintegrate."
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Then—
Voice: "So I sealed you inside one of my divine abilities."
Demos' grip tightened on the axe.
His voice dropped.
"…What ability?"