The carriage rocked gently as we traveled, the rhythmic clatter of wheels on cobblestone gradually giving way to the softer sound of dirt roads as we left the heart of Hazenworth territory behind. I sat by the window, watching the countryside roll past, trying to piece together everything I remembered about the artifact I was seeking.
'Ring of Luminous Ascension,' I thought, the name surfacing from fragmented forum posts I'd read months ago. 'Or was it Ring of Ascendant Will? The beta testers weren't consistent with the naming.'
What I did remember clearly were the supposed effects. Experience boost. Stat growth enhancement. Something about reducing penalties or improving compatibility with your chosen paths. The details had been vague, buried in speculation and secondhand accounts, but the core idea was consistent: it was a growth item, something that accelerated progression beyond normal limits.
'That's how Alister did it,' I thought, recalling that original forum thread. 'How he went from Rank 1 to Rank 3 in six months when it should have taken years. He had help. Divine intervention in the form of an artifact that broke the normal rules.'
The question that kept nagging at me was whether the rumors were true. Forum posts could be wrong. Beta testers could have been mistaken or lying. The coordinates could have been fake, a troll leading players on a wild goose chase.
'But what choice do I have?' I thought, looking down at my hands. They still trembled slightly, even at rest. 'Without something to offset this penalty, I'm finished. One year to prove myself or face disownment. One year to go from Rank 1 to... what? Rank 3? Rank 4? Against peers who are already Rank 2 and climbing?'
The math was impossible. Even if I worked myself to death, even if I succeeded at every challenge, the 300% experience penalty meant I'd always be three times slower than everyone else. And that was before accounting for the 23% vessel compatibility that made even existing feel like running a marathon.
'I need that ring,' I concluded. 'If it exists, if it's real, if it can do even half of what the rumors claimed... I need it.'
The countryside passing by my window told its own story of why time was short. We passed a farmstead that had been burned recently, the blackened timbers still standing like skeletal fingers against the sky. The fields around it were trampled, the crops destroyed. No bodies visible, but I could see the signs of a struggle—broken fences, deep gouges in the earth that might have been claw marks.
Further down the road, we encountered a group of refugees. Two dozen people, maybe more, trudging along with whatever possessions they could carry. Children crying. Adults with hollow eyes that had seen things they couldn't forget. They barely glanced at our carriage as we passed, too exhausted to care about nobles and their privileges.
'The monster surges,' I thought, remembering my father's words at breakfast. 'Two months of coordinated attacks. Three border villages lost. Two military outposts.'
But seeing the evidence was different from hearing about it. This was real. People were dying. The kingdom was bleeding from a thousand cuts.
And it was wrong.
Not wrong in a moral sense—though that too—but wrong in a timeline sense. When I'd played as Saber, the monster surges hadn't happened like this. There had been scattered attacks, yes, individual incidents that players could quest around. But not organized waves. Not coordinated assaults that destroyed entire villages.
'The timeline has changed,' I realized. 'Events that should have happened differently, or later, or not at all. The game world has diverged from what I experienced.'
That thought was troubling for reasons I couldn't quite articulate. If the timeline had changed, what else was different? What other assumptions from my time as Saber were now invalid?
We passed a military patrol heading in the opposite direction—a dozen soldiers in kingdom colors, weapons ready, faces grim. They barely acknowledged our carriage, focused on whatever mission drove them toward the border.
'Father wasn't exaggerating,' I thought. 'The kingdom really is mobilizing. And if it's bad enough that they're pulling Academy students into border defense...'
The thought trailed off as a wave of exhaustion hit me. Not from thinking, but from simply existing. My body felt heavy again, that constant weight pressing down on me like invisible chains. I leaned back against the seat, trying to rest, trying to conserve what little energy I had.
The driver glanced back through the small window that connected the passenger compartment to his bench. "Are you alright, young master? You look pale."
"I'm fine," I said, the automatic response. "Just... tired from the journey."
He didn't look convinced but turned back to the road without pressing. Good. I didn't need concern, didn't want questions. I just needed to reach the Whispering Woods, find the ring, and solve my impossible problem before it killed me.
Time passed in a blur of scenery and discomfort. The sun climbed higher, approaching its zenith. My body continued its protest against existence, trembling and weak and wrong. I checked my status obsessively, as if staring at the numbers would somehow make them improve.
[RANK: 1]
[Progress to Rank 2: 0%]
[VESSEL COMPATIBILITY: 23%]
[PENALTY: 300% Experience Requirement]
Nothing changed. Nothing improved. The weight remained crushing.
'Soon,' I told myself. 'Just hold on a little longer.'
---
The Whispering Woods appeared on the horizon as the sun reached its peak, a dark green smudge that gradually resolved into individual trees as we approached. From a distance, it looked peaceful—just another forest among many that dotted the kingdom's landscape. But as we drew closer, I noticed something off about it.
Silence.
Even from the road, I could tell the woods were too quiet. No bird songs. No rustling of small animals in the underbrush. Just an oppressive stillness that felt unnatural for a supposedly low-level area teeming with harmless forest creatures.
"Young master," the driver called back, his voice uncertain. "Are you certain about this stop? The woods feel... different. Wrong, somehow."
I leaned forward to look through the forward window. The forest's edge was clearly visible now, less than a quarter mile ahead. Trees that should have been welcoming looked almost threatening in their stillness.
"I'm certain," I said, injecting firmness into my voice despite my own misgivings. "There's something I need to retrieve here. It won't take long."
"Lord Aleo's instructions were to proceed directly to the Academy," the driver tried again, his duty to his master warring with his duty to the family head. "If something were to happen to you..."
"Nothing will happen," I interrupted. "The Whispering Woods are classified as a beginner area. Rank 0 creatures at most. I'll be perfectly safe."
'Relatively safe,' I amended internally. 'For someone who isn't a pathetic weakling barely capable of holding a sword.'
The driver clearly wanted to argue further, but we'd reached the forest's edge. He pulled the carriage to a stop where the main road met a smaller trail that disappeared into the trees.
"Wait here," I said, reaching for the door handle. "I'll return within two hours."
"Young master, please reconsider," the driver said, and there was genuine worry in his voice now. "Let me accompany you, at least. Or one of the guards. Your father would never forgive me if—"
"My father," I cut him off, channeling the imperious tone that came from Alex's memories of watching his sister command servants, "gave me one year to prove myself worthy of the Hazenworth name. I cannot do that if I'm being coddled and protected like a child." I opened the carriage door and stepped down, grateful that my legs didn't immediately buckle. "I am still a Hazenworth, even if I'm a disappointing one. This is my decision. Wait here. I'll return soon."
The driver's face worked through several expressions—concern, frustration, resignation. Finally, he nodded. "Two hours, young master. If you're not back by then, I'm coming to find you."
"Fair enough."
I turned toward the forest, my hand instinctively reaching for the sword at my hip. The ceremonial blade hung there, more decoration than weapon, but it was better than nothing. At Sword Stage 1, I could handle the basics—draw, strike, block, the fundamental movements. Nothing fancy. Nothing impressive. But hopefully enough to deal with Rank 0 forest creatures.
'Assuming I don't collapse from exhaustion halfway there,' I thought grimly.
The forest loomed before me, silent and waiting. I took a deep breath—as deep as my struggling lungs allowed—and stepped off the road onto the trail.
---
The moment I crossed from open road to forest shade, the temperature dropped noticeably. Not dramatically, but enough to raise goosebumps on my arms. The silence I'd noticed from the road was even more pronounced here, pressing against my ears like cotton.
'This isn't right,' I thought, my hand tightening on the sword hilt. 'Low-level areas are supposed to be full of ambient noise. Birds, insects, wind through leaves. This is...'
Dead. The word echoed in my mind unbidden. The forest felt dead.
But I'd committed now. Turning back meant giving up on the ring, on my only real chance to survive this nightmare. So I pressed forward, following the trail deeper into the woods.
Walking was harder than it should have been. The trail was relatively clear, not overgrown or obstacle-laden, but every step felt like wading through water. My legs protested. My lungs struggled to pull in enough air. Sweat beaded on my forehead despite the cool temperature.
'This body is pathetic,' I thought venomously. 'How did the original Alex even function? How did he get through daily life feeling like this?'
The answer came from Alex's memories—he mostly didn't. He'd spent the last few years avoiding physical exertion, making excuses, retreating to his room where the weight was more bearable. Everyone had assumed he was lazy, unmotivated, wasting his potential.
'They never realized he was suffering,' I thought. 'That the Triadic Soul was crushing him and nobody understood why.'
I had to stop twice in the first fifteen minutes, leaning against trees to catch my breath. My status hadn't changed—still Rank 1, still 23% compatibility, still carrying impossible weight. But I forced myself to continue, one step at a time, deeper into the silent forest.
The trail began to show signs of age. Crumbling stone markers appeared at intervals, weathered by centuries of rain and wind until their markings were barely visible. Some were toppled entirely, half-buried in fallen leaves and moss. They looked ancient, predating the Kingdom of Valdris by far.
'First Civilization,' I realized, recognition sparking from Saber's accumulated knowledge. 'These are old. Really old. Before the current age, before the kingdoms, before recorded history.'
The realization sent a chill down my spine. The ring was in a First Civilization site. That meant power, yes, but also danger. The ancients hadn't been simple people—they'd created artifacts and structures that modern magic still couldn't replicate.
'Too late to turn back now,' I thought, pressing onward.
Movement caught my eye, and I froze.
Three small lights drifted between the trees to my left, bobbing gently like fireflies. They pulsed with a soft blue-green luminescence that would have been beautiful if I hadn't known what they were.
Forest Wisps. Rank 0 creatures, barely qualifying as monsters. In game terms, they were the tutorial enemies, the things new players fought to learn basic combat.
But I wasn't a confident new player with a fresh character and normal progression. I was a dying consciousness in a borrowed body with penalties that made breathing feel like a boss fight.
'I need to avoid them,' I thought, slowly reaching for my sword. 'No unnecessary combat. Save my energy for—'
One of the Wisps turned, its light pulsing brighter, and I realized it had noticed me. The other two turned as well, their luminescence increasing from gentle glow to sharp radiance.
[Forest Wisp - Rank 0]
[Warning: Although weak individually, Forest Wisps attack with magic that ignores physical defense]
'Of course they do,' I thought bitterly.
The Wisps drifted toward me, accelerating from gentle float to purposeful glide. I drew my sword—the motion was smooth thanks to muscle memory the haptic suit had trained into Saber's body, preserved somehow through the consciousness transfer—and fell into a basic guard stance.
The first Wisp fired, a small bolt of concentrated light that streaked toward my chest. I tried to sidestep, but my body was too slow, too heavy. The bolt clipped my shoulder, and pain exploded through me.
[You have taken 45 damage]
[HP: 155/200]
'Forty-five damage from a Rank 0 creature,' I thought through the pain. 'I have two hundred health total. I can take four hits. Maybe five if they're not all direct.'
The math was depressing.
I swung at the closest Wisp as it drifted within range, and my blade passed through its incorporeal form harmlessly. Right. They were spirit-type enemies, immune to physical attacks unless you had special abilities or enchanted weapons.
'Shit,' I thought, trying to remember what Saber would have done. 'How do you fight these without magic?'
The answer came from muscle memory and fragmented knowledge: You didn't fight them with the blade. You fought them with blade energy, the aura that martial artists could project once they'd mastered the basics of their weapon.
But I was Stage 1—Foundation. I barely had blade aura, let alone the control to project it as an attack.
The second Wisp fired, and I managed to dodge this time, throwing myself to the side hard enough that I nearly fell. My body screamed in protest. The third Wisp fired while I was off-balance, and the bolt hit me square in the back.
[You have taken 48 damage]
[HP: 107/200]
Half my health gone in two hits. This was going poorly.
'Focus,' I told myself, forcing my body upright and settling back into guard stance. 'Stage 1 means I understand the fundamentals. Means I can feel the weapon's presence, even if I can't fully project it. Work with what you have.'
I closed my eyes—a terrible idea in combat, but desperation made me stupid—and felt for the connection between myself and the blade. At Stage 3, this had been effortless. The sword was an extension of my body, as natural as my own hands. But at Stage 1, it was more like... awareness. Like knowing something was there without being able to fully grasp it.
The Wisps fired again, and I moved on pure instinct, sword sweeping up in an arc. The blade's edge flickered with the faintest hint of blue light—blade aura so thin it was almost invisible—and when it connected with the incoming bolt, the magic dispersed.
[Attack deflected]
'It worked,' I thought, shocked. 'Barely, but it worked.'
The Wisps paused, seemingly confused that their prey had managed to defend itself. That moment of hesitation was all I needed. I lunged forward—sloppy, too slow, but committed—and swept my blade through the nearest Wisp with as much aura as I could muster.
The blue light flickered along the edge, and when it touched the Wisp's incorporeal form, the creature shuddered. Not much damage, but damage nonetheless.
[Forest Wisp HP: 42/50]
I attacked again, and again, each strike leaving me more exhausted but chipping away at the Wisp's health. The other two fired, and I tried to deflect but missed one. Another bolt hit me, this time in the leg.
[You have taken 47 damage]
[HP: 60/200]
'Come on,' I thought desperately, swinging again. 'Just die. Please just die.'
The third strike finally did it. The Wisp's light flickered and went out, its form dispersing into motes of fading luminescence.
[You have defeated Forest Wisp]
[Progress to Rank 2: 0.1%]
One down. Two to go. And I was at less than a third of my health.
The remaining Wisps seemed to realize their companion had fallen and became more aggressive. They attacked in coordination, firing simultaneously from different angles. I deflected one bolt, took the other in the chest.
[You have taken 51 damage]
[HP: 9/200]
'Nine health,' I thought, the number burning in my vision. 'One more hit and I'm dead. Actually dead this time.'
But dying here meant giving up. Meant accepting that I was too weak, too pathetic, too broken to survive in this world. Meant letting the weight crush me like it had crushed the original Alex.
I refused.
I charged the nearest Wisp, ignoring every instinct that screamed at me to defend, to retreat, to run. My sword swept through its form once, twice, three times, each strike burning through what little energy I had left. The blade aura flickered weakly, barely visible, but it was enough.
[You have defeated Forest Wisp]
[Progress to Rank 2: 0.2%]
The third Wisp fired, and I knew I couldn't deflect it. Not fast enough, not skilled enough, not strong enough.
The bolt streaked toward me, and I did the only thing I could think of—I threw myself forward, below the bolt's trajectory, and rolled. Pain exploded through my body as I hit the ground, but I came up swinging, my blade passing through the Wisp's center mass three times in rapid succession.
[You have defeated Forest Wisp]
[Progress to Rank 2: 0.3%]
The last Wisp faded, and I collapsed, sword falling from nerveless fingers. My entire body shook. My vision swam. My health bar blinked urgently.
[HP: 9/200]
[Warning: Critical health. Seek healing immediately.]
'I'm alive,' I thought, lying on the forest floor and staring up at the canopy. 'Barely. Pathetically. But alive.'
The fight had taken maybe two minutes. Two minutes against the weakest enemies in the game, and I'd almost died.
'And I still have to find the shrine,' I thought. 'Still have to claim the ring. Still have to make it back to the carriage.'
I lay there for several minutes, letting my health slowly regenerate. It crept up at a glacial pace—one point every thirty seconds or so—but it was movement in the right direction. By the time I felt capable of standing, I'd recovered to 23 health.
Still pathetic. Still one good hit from death. But functional.
I retrieved my sword, sheathed it, and continued down the trail.
---
The ancient stone markers became more frequent as I progressed deeper into the woods, and their condition improved. Near the forest edge, they'd been toppled and weathered. Here, they stood upright, their surfaces cleared of moss and lichen as if maintained by invisible hands. The markings were clearer too, though still in a script I couldn't read directly.
But Saber's knowledge provided context. These weren't just trail markers—they were territorial boundaries, claiming this space as sacred ground belonging to the First Civilization.
'Sacred to who?' I wondered. 'Or what?'
The answer appeared as the trail opened into a clearing.
The shrine stood at the center, and despite everything, despite my exhaustion and pain and the crushing weight of existing, I stopped and stared.
It was beautiful.
Not large—maybe twenty feet to a side, a single-chamber structure with simple lines and elegant proportions. The architecture was unlike anything from the current age, all flowing curves and impossible angles that suggested the builders had understood geometry in ways modern architects didn't. The stone was a pale gray that seemed to glow faintly in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy.
Vines covered much of the structure, but rather than appearing overgrown or neglected, they seemed intentional, as if the building and the forest had reached some agreement about coexistence. Moss grew in decorative patterns. Flowers bloomed in alcoves.
And the entire structure radiated light—faint, barely visible in daylight, but unmistakable. A soft golden glow that pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat.
'This is it,' I thought, my own heart racing. 'This has to be it.'
I approached slowly, scanning for obvious dangers. Traps. Guardians. Magical wards. But I saw nothing. The shrine sat peacefully in its clearing, door standing open, almost inviting.
'Too easy,' instinct whispered. 'This is way too easy.'
But what choice did I have? Turn back now, after coming this far? After nearly dying to tutorial enemies just to reach this place?
I crossed the clearing, each step feeling like a commitment I couldn't take back. When I reached the entrance, I paused one final time, looking back at the path I'd taken. The forest was still silent. Still wrong. But I was here.
'Do it,' I told myself. 'You need this. You'll die without this.'
I stepped through the doorway.
---
The interior of the shrine was smaller than the exterior suggested, but somehow more impressive. A single chamber, circular, with walls covered in script that glowed with the same golden light as the exterior. The language was definitely First Civilization—Saber's knowledge confirmed it—but the actual words remained frustratingly opaque.
In the center of the chamber stood a pedestal of the same pale stone as the walls. And on the pedestal, exactly as the rumors had promised, sat a ring.
I approached slowly, hardly daring to breathe. The ring was simpler than I'd expected—just a silver band, unadorned except for script engraved on its inner surface. But even from several feet away, I could feel power radiating from it, a subtle pressure that reminded me of my father's aura but different. Not threatening. Inviting.
[Ancient Artifact Detected: Ring of Luminous Ascension]
The notification appeared in my vision, and my heart leaped. It was real. The rumors were true. The artifact existed.
I took another step closer, close enough now to see the ring clearly. The silver band was perfectly crafted, seamless, as if it had been formed from a single piece of metal rather than forged and joined. The inner inscription glowed faintly, pulsing in time with the shrine's heartbeat.
Another notification appeared:
[Ring of Luminous Ascension]
[Legendary Growth Artifact]
[Created by the First Civilization to guide chosen heroes toward their destiny]
[Current Status: Unclaimed]
[Attunement: Hero's Path - Light Affinity]
[Warning: This artifact is designed for those who walk the path of righteousness and light]
[Warning: Claiming this artifact will bind it to your soul permanently]
[Warning: This artifact is intended for the prophesied Hero of Light]
I stared at that last warning, feeling ice settle in my stomach. The game wasn't being subtle. It was explicitly telling me this ring was meant for Alister Lightblade, for the chosen hero, for the protagonist of the story I'd been playing.
Taking it would be theft. Not just in a moral sense, but in a cosmic, destiny-altering sense.
Another notification appeared:
[You have discovered the artifact meant for the Hero's Path]
[You are not the intended recipient]
[Claiming this artifact will mark you as a Usurper - one who takes what was meant for another]
[Consequences of this action cannot be fully predicted]
[Do you wish to proceed?]
[YES] / [NO]
I stood there, staring at those two options, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me like my father's aura.
'If I take this,' I thought, 'I'm stealing from the hero. From the person who's supposed to save the world. The prophecy exists for a reason. Alister is meant to stop the Eternal Night, to push back the darkness. If I weaken him by taking his artifact...'
But the counter-arguments came just as quickly.
'He has everything else,' my thoughts continued. 'Noble birth. Natural talent. The Hero's System that's literally designed to make him powerful. He's the chosen one, blessed by prophecy and destiny. One artifact won't break him. He'll find another way. Heroes always do.'
'But I have nothing. A dying consciousness in a borrowed body that can barely walk without shaking. Affinities that are sealed behind ranks I can't reach. A penalty that makes progression three times harder. I need this. He's got alternatives. I don't.'
The justifications sounded hollow even in my own mind. But survival wasn't about being noble. It was about doing what you had to do to keep existing, consequences be damned.
'Sorry, Alister,' I thought, reaching for the ring. 'But I'm taking this. You're the hero. You'll manage without it. And me? I'll die without it.'
My finger hovered over the [YES] option.
'This is theft,' I acknowledged. 'This is stealing destiny itself. This makes me a villain in someone else's story.'
I pressed [YES].
---
The moment I confirmed my choice, reality shifted.
The shrine's light intensified, blazing from soft gold to brilliant white that forced me to shield my eyes. The script on the walls began to move, flowing like liquid fire around the chamber in patterns that hurt to look at directly. And the ring on the pedestal lifted into the air, spinning slowly, as if being examined by invisible hands.
A new notification appeared, different from the previous ones. This one was written in red text, which I'd never seen before:
[WARNING: USURPATION PROTOCOL INITIATED]
[You have chosen to claim an artifact not meant for you]
[You have chosen to steal from the Hero's Path]
[You have chosen to become a Usurper]
[Consequence: You will be Marked by Stolen Destiny]
[Consequence: The intended recipient will sense the theft]
[Consequence: Your actions will draw the attention of forces beyond mortal ken]
[Do you accept these consequences?]
[This choice cannot be undone]
[YES] / [NO]
'Forces beyond mortal ken,' I read, feeling dread pool in my gut. 'That sounds... really bad.'
But I'd already committed. Already made my choice. Backing out now would mean returning empty-handed, accepting my fate as a pathetic weakling who'd fail his family and be disowned within a year.
'I accept,' I thought, pressing [YES] again.
The shrine exploded with light.
Not metaphorically. The entire structure blazed with radiance so intense it should have blinded me, should have burned my skin, should have done something more than just make me stagger back with my arms raised.
The ring descended from its spinning orbit above the pedestal, moving slowly toward my outstretched hand. As it approached, more notifications appeared in rapid succession:
[Usurpation confirmed]
[Binding Ring of Luminous Ascension to Usurper]
[Warning: You do not meet the standard requirements for this artifact]
[Warning: You possess Blood Affinity - an element opposed to Light]
[Warning: You possess Spirit Affinity - an element unknown to this artifact's creation]
[Warning: Incompatibility detected]
[Override Protocol: Artifact will adapt to Usurper's nature]
[This may alter the artifact's properties]
'Alter its properties?' I thought. 'What does that—'
The ring touched my finger, and pain exploded through me.
It felt like being struck by lightning while drowning in ice water while being crushed under a mountain all at once. Every nerve in my body fired simultaneously, screaming signals of wrongness and violation to a brain that couldn't process them all.
I tried to scream, but no sound came out. Tried to pull my hand back, but couldn't move. The ring had made contact, and now it was forcing itself onto my finger, shrinking from its original size to fit perfectly, burning itself into my flesh like a brand.
[Integration Process: 10%]
[Warning: Vessel compatibility extremely low]
[Warning: Host body rejecting artifact]
[Forcing integration...]
'It's killing me,' I thought distantly, feeling my consciousness start to fragment. 'The ring is going to kill me trying to bind to someone it wasn't meant for.'
More notifications appeared, but I could barely read them through the pain:
[Integration Process: 25%]
[Host body failing...]
[Compensating...]
[Drawing on Usurper's sealed affinities to stabilize...]
Something deep inside me stirred. The sealed knowledge of Sword Stage 3. The dormant contracts with twelve Spirits. The locked Blood affinity that couldn't manifest. All of it pulsed, responding to the ring's desperate attempt to integrate with a host it wasn't designed for.
[Integration Process: 50%]
[Partial stabilization achieved]
[Artifact adapting to Usurper's unique nature...]
[This is unprecedented...]
The pain shifted, became more bearable. Not gone, not even close, but no longer threatening to tear me apart. I could breathe again, could think again, could feel something other than agony.
The ring continued shrinking, the silver metal flowing like liquid until it fit my finger perfectly. The inner inscription blazed with light—not the pure gold of before, but something darker. Gold mixed with crimson, like sunrise bleeding into sunset.
[Integration Process: 75%]
[Artifact transformation in progress...]
[Ring of Luminous Ascension → Ring of Usurped Ascension]
[Properties changing to accommodate Usurper...]
'It's changing,' I realized. 'The artifact itself is changing because I'm not who it was meant for.'
[Integration Process: 100%]
[Success]
[You have claimed: Ring of Usurped Ascension (Soulbound)]
The light faded. The pain receded to a dull ache. I collapsed to my knees, gasping, staring at my hand where the ring now sat.
It looked different from what I'd seen on the pedestal. Still silver, but darker now, with veins of crimson running through the metal like blood vessels. The inner inscription still glowed, but the light was no longer pure gold. It pulsed with alternating gold and red, light and blood, reflecting what I was rather than what the hero should have been.
New notifications appeared:
[Ring of Usurped Ascension (Soulbound)]
[Legendary Growth Artifact - Corrupted]
[This artifact was meant for the Hero of Light but has been claimed by a Usurper]
[Its properties have adapted to its new owner's nature]
[Effects:]
[- Experience requirement reduced by 50% (300% → 150%)]
[- All stat growth increased by 25%]
[- Vessel compatibility increases by 1% per week]
[- Grants Minor Holy affinity (does not occupy affinity slot)]
[- Grants Minor Blood Resonance (enhances locked Blood affinity when unsealed)]
[- Evolution Potential: This artifact can grow with its user]
[Drawbacks:]
[- Marked by Stolen Destiny: You have taken what was meant for another]
[- The intended Hero will eventually sense this theft]
[- Forces aligned with prophecy will view you with suspicion or hostility]
[- This ring cannot be removed by any means short of death]
[Hidden Effect: ??? (Unlocks at Rank 5)]
[Warning: You are now a Usurper. The consequences of this action will unfold in time.]
I sat there on the cold stone floor, reading and rereading the notification, trying to process what I'd just done.
The 300% penalty reduced to 150%. That was huge—it meant I'd progress twice as fast as before, though still 50% slower than a normal single-Path user. The vessel compatibility increasing over time meant the 23% would slowly improve, eventually letting this body handle more of the Triadic Soul's burden.
But the drawbacks...
'Marked by Stolen Destiny,' I thought, looking at the ring. 'Alister will sense the theft. Forces aligned with prophecy will be hostile.'
I tried to remove the ring, hooking my fingers under the band and pulling. It didn't budge. I pulled harder, hard enough that it should have hurt, but the ring felt like it was part of my finger now. Immovable. Permanent.
[This ring is soulbound and cannot be removed]
[Attempting to forcibly remove it will result in severe injury or death]
'Well,' I thought, a slightly hysterical laugh bubbling up in my throat, 'I'm committed now.'
I stood slowly, testing my body. The immediate effect was noticeable—the crushing weight was lighter. Not gone, not even close, but reduced from crushing to merely oppressive. I could breathe easier. My legs felt steadier.
I checked my status:
[NAME: Alex Hazenworth]
[RANK: 1]
[PATHS: Triadic Soul (Body + Mind + Elemental)]
[PENALTY: 150% Experience Requirement (Reduced from 300%)]
[VESSEL COMPATIBILITY: 23% (Increasing 1% per week)]
[EQUIPPED: Ring of Usurped Ascension (Soulbound)]
[SPECIAL STATUS: Usurper - Marked by Stolen Destiny]
The shrine around me began to crumble.
Not collapse—crumble. The stone walls lost their cohesion, turning to dust that drifted away on a wind that hadn't existed moments before. The glowing script faded, the light dying like extinguished candles. The pedestal where the ring had rested split down the middle and toppled.
A final notification appeared:
[The Shrine of Forgotten Light has fulfilled its purpose]
[Without the artifact it was created to house, this place cannot persist]
[You have 60 seconds to exit before complete collapse]
'Shit,' I thought, turning and running for the door.
Running felt different now. Still difficult, still exhausting, but possible in a way it hadn't been before. My legs didn't buckle. My lungs pulled in air without quite as much struggle. The ring was already making a difference.
I burst through the doorway and into the clearing as the shrine collapsed behind me, stone turning to powder and drifting away on that impossible wind. Within seconds, nothing remained but a slight depression in the earth where the structure had stood.
I bent over, hands on my knees, gasping for breath. My health had regenerated to 47 during my time in the shrine, and the ring's presence felt like warmth spreading through my chest.
'I did it,' I thought. 'I actually did it. Stole from the hero and survived.'
The forest was still silent around me, but it felt less oppressive now. Or maybe I was just feeling more capable of dealing with threats. Either way, I had what I'd come for.
Time to return to the carriage and continue to the Academy. Time to see what I could accomplish with this stolen power.
I started back down the trail, one hand unconsciously touching the ring, feeling its warmth against my skin.
---
The return journey through the forest was noticeably different from the approach. Not easier, exactly—my body still protested every step, still felt the weight of the Triadic Soul pressing down—but manageable. The 50% reduction in the experience penalty combined with whatever other benefits the ring provided made movement feel less like wading through mud and more like just... walking while tired.
'This is what normal exhaustion feels like,' I realized. 'Not the crushing, impossible weight. Just regular fatigue from physical exertion.'
I'd forgotten what that was like.
I encountered the same type of monsters on the way back—Forest Wisps drifting between the trees, their blue-green luminescence pulsing gently. Three of them noticed me and drifted closer, their light intensifying as they prepared to attack.
I drew my sword, settling into the basic guard stance that was all Stage 1 allowed me, and waited for them to strike.
The first Wisp fired, and I deflected the bolt with a sweep of my blade. The motion was cleaner than before, my body responding more quickly, more surely. The thin film of blade aura coating my weapon flared slightly brighter, as if the ring's presence was amplifying even this small manifestation of power.
I didn't wait for them to coordinate their attack like last time. Instead, I charged, closing the distance before they could fire again. My sword swept through the nearest Wisp's incorporeal form, the blade aura connecting solidly.
[Forest Wisp HP: 31/50]
Better. One strike had done more damage than three strikes had managed in my previous fight. The ring was making a difference.
The next two strikes finished the first Wisp, and I pivoted to the second without pause. The movements were still sloppy by any real standard, still amateur hour compared to what Stage 3 technique had allowed, but they were functional. Effective.
The second Wisp fell. Then the third.
[You have defeated Forest Wisp x3]
[Progress to Rank 2: 0.6%]
I stood there, sword in hand, barely winded. My health hadn't dropped below 40. I'd taken one hit total, and it had been a glancing blow that dealt less than 20 damage.
'That's the difference the ring makes,' I thought, sheathing my blade. 'Not that I'm suddenly strong. But I'm no longer pathetically weak. I've moved from "would lose to tutorial enemies" to "can consistently beat tutorial enemies."'
It wasn't much. But it was progress.
The trail markers guided me back toward the forest edge, and I made better time than I had on the approach. The sun had moved noticeably in the sky—I'd been in the woods for nearly an hour and a half—but I still had time before the two-hour deadline I'd given the driver.
As I walked, I examined the ring more closely. In the shrine's supernatural light, it had been clearly visible, the crimson veins standing out against the silver metal. In normal daylight, it was more subtle. The silver appeared slightly darker than it should be, and if you looked closely, you could see faint red patterns beneath the surface. But someone not looking specifically for it might miss the details.
'I should hide it anyway,' I thought. 'Gloves. Or something. Can't let people see this and start asking questions.'
The inner inscription still glowed faintly when I tilted my hand to catch the light—alternating pulses of gold and crimson. I couldn't read the ancient script, but something about it felt like a promise. Or a warning. Or both.
[Hidden Effect: ??? (Unlocks at Rank 5)]
That notification bothered me. What was locked behind Rank 5? What had the ring gained—or lost—when it adapted to my nature instead of Alister's?
'Problems for later,' I decided. 'Right now, just focus on getting back to the carriage and reaching the Academy without anyone realizing what I've done.'
The forest edge appeared ahead, and I could see the carriage waiting where I'd left it. The driver was pacing beside it, clearly anxious, but he straightened with visible relief when he saw me emerge from the tree line.
"Young master!" he called, hurrying forward. "You're back. I was beginning to worry that—" He stopped mid-sentence, staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "You look... different."
'Shit,' I thought. 'What does he see? The ring? Some change in my appearance?'
"Different how?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
"Better," he said slowly, still studying me with that confused look. "When you entered the forest, you looked... forgive me for saying so, but you looked ill. Pale. Unsteady. Now you seem..." He struggled for words. "Healthier? More solid, somehow."
'The vessel compatibility,' I realized. 'It's only improved from 23% to 23%, won't increase for another week, but maybe the ring's presence is affecting my physical condition even before the percentage ticks up.'
"I feel better," I said, which wasn't entirely a lie. "Found what I was looking for. Let's continue to the Academy."
The driver clearly wanted to ask questions—what I'd been looking for, why it required a detour to a low-level forest, what could possibly be worth the risk—but training and social hierarchy kept him silent. I was a Hazenworth, even a disappointing one, and he was a servant. Questions were not his place.
I climbed back into the carriage, settling onto the velvet seat with relief. My body was still tired, still carrying weight that shouldn't exist, but it was bearable now. Manageable.
"Straight to the Academy from here, young master?" the driver asked.
"Yes," I said. "No more stops."
The carriage lurched forward, wheels crunching on the dirt road as we pulled away from the Whispering Woods. I looked back through the window, watching the forest recede into the distance. Somewhere in there, a shrine had crumbled to dust. Somewhere in there, I'd stolen destiny itself.
'No going back now,' I thought, turning away from the window.
I pulled off one of my gloves and examined the ring again in the carriage's dim interior. The silver-and-crimson metal seemed to pulse with its own light, independent of any external source. Beautiful and terrible in equal measure.
I tried again to remove it, even though I knew it wouldn't work. The ring didn't budge. It was part of me now, as permanent as my bones, as unchangeable as my consciousness being trapped in Alex Hazenworth's body.
[This ring is soulbound and cannot be removed]
'Marked by Stolen Destiny,' I thought, reading that status effect again. 'What does that actually mean? When will Alister sense the theft? What will happen when he does?'
The notification had said the intended hero would "eventually" sense it, but gave no timeline. Could be days. Could be weeks. Could be the moment we were in the same room together.
'He starts at the Academy in two days,' I remembered. 'Two days until the prophesied Hero of Light arrives and potentially realizes someone stole his artifact before he could claim it.'
The thought sent ice through my veins, but I pushed it aside. 'Deal with that when it happens. Right now, focus on the entrance exams. Focus on not getting immediately expelled or disowned. Focus on surviving long enough to make this theft worthwhile.'
I pulled my glove back on, hiding the ring from view. The silver band was thin enough that it barely showed even through the leather, just a slight bulge that could be mistaken for bone structure if someone wasn't looking closely.
'Keep it hidden,' I decided. 'Tell no one. Act like nothing happened. Just a normal disappointing noble arriving at the Academy to take his entrance exams.'
The carriage rolled on, and I leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes. The exhaustion was catching up with me now, the adrenaline from the theft wearing off and leaving behind the bone-deep weariness of a body that still wasn't quite functional.
But it was better. Noticeably, measurably better. The 150% penalty instead of 300% meant I could actually progress at a semi-reasonable rate. The vessel compatibility increasing 1% per week meant in a year I'd be at 75% instead of 23%—still not perfect, but approaching functional.
'If I can survive that long,' I thought darkly.
Time passed in a haze of exhaustion and worry. The countryside rolled by outside the window—more evidence of monster attacks, more refugees, more military patrols. The kingdom was bleeding, and I'd just stolen an artifact that was supposed to help save it.
'Alister will manage,' I told myself again, the justification feeling weaker each time. 'He's the hero. He has the Hero's System. One artifact won't make or break him.'
But doubt gnawed at me. What if it would? What if the ring was crucial to his development, essential to gaining power fast enough to face whatever threats were coming? What if by stealing it, I'd just doomed the world?
'Then the world was already doomed,' I thought bitterly. 'Because without this ring, I die. Or get disowned and cast out. Either way, I'm not saving anyone.'
The sun was well past its zenith now, afternoon fading toward evening, when the Academy finally came into view on the horizon.
It was massive.
I'd known that intellectually, had seen it in Alex's memories and in Saber's exploration of the game world. But seeing it in person was different. The Grand Academy sprawled across a small mountain, a complex of buildings and towers and walls that looked more like a fortress-city than an educational institution.
The main building rose seven stories high, with towers extending even higher at each corner. The architecture was a mix of practical fortress design and aesthetic grandeur—thick walls that could withstand sieges decorated with flying buttresses and ornate carvings. Gardens and training grounds spread across the mountain slopes. Defensive walls ringed the entire complex, dotted with guard towers that I could see even from this distance.
It looked like a place where heroes were forged. Where the future of the kingdom was shaped.
And I was arriving as a Rank 1 disgrace with stolen power and a ticking time bomb of consequences waiting to explode.
'No pressure,' I thought.
The carriage began the long climb up the mountain road toward the Academy gates. The sun painted the western sky in shades of orange and gold, making the Academy's towers glow like they were aflame.
Beautiful. Intimidating. And full of people who would be stronger than me, more talented than me, more deserving of being here than someone who'd stolen his chance at survival.
I touched the ring through my glove, feeling its warmth.
'I'm here,' I thought. 'I made it this far. Stole an artifact meant for the hero, survived the integration, made it to the Academy.'
'Now comes the hard part.'
'Now I have to prove I deserve to stay.'
The carriage passed through the outer gates, the guards barely glancing at the Hazenworth crest before waving us through. We rolled up the main approach road, past groups of students in Academy uniforms, past training fields where upper-years were sparring, past buildings whose purposes I could only guess at.
Finally, we stopped at what appeared to be a reception area—a grand courtyard with a fountain at its center and several official-looking buildings surrounding it.
"We've arrived, young master," the driver called back.
I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and opened the carriage door.
The Grand Academy awaited.
And somewhere, perhaps already within these walls, a hero was missing his artifact and didn't even know it yet.
'Sorry, Alister,' I thought one last time, stepping down from the carriage. 'But I'm keeping it. I need it more than you do.'
'And if that makes me a villain in your story...'
I looked up at the Academy towers, at the place where I'd either prove myself or fail completely.
'...then I'll be the best villain I can be.'