Lacking energy and spirit, a lethargic Kenmei Isayama shuffled through the school hallway, his mind still occupied with thoughts of that village of Wraiths.
The [Temple of All Living Things] was the most dangerous location in the plane. Kenmei, being conservative, hadn't even dared to go up the mountain to investigate it. After all, the System had slapped him with three consecutive warnings forbidding him from ascending.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Just a single Wraith (Hunter) spawning on the outskirts had forced Kenmei into a "mutual destruction" scenario just to secure a kill. That alone was enough to show him how helpless—and resentful—he felt toward these terrifyingly powerful spirits.
However, Kenmei knew that fighting these monstrosities yielded more than just Points. He gained experience that could only be forged between life and death. It was a trial by fire for his raw combat skills and, of course, a test of his tolerance for pain.
These were things Kenmei lacked in his daily life. His strength was in an awkward spot: he could one-shot weak, low-level Cursed Spirits, but if he encountered a powerful Curse, his only options were to run or cling to someone else's leg for safety.
In those high-level fights, he was basically a cheerleader. He'd shout "Go team!" and collect Points after the battle, without ever getting a chance to throw a punch.
So, fighting the Wraiths was the perfect whetstone to sharpen his combat techniques.
The problem now was the numbers. He had solved four of them, but there were still fifty-one left. That was a despair-inducing number.
Different classes of Wraiths had different lethality.
The Butcher: Strongest in melee, but mentally sluggish.
The Hunter: Specialized in ranged attacks with rudimentary awareness.
The Villager: The weakest. Just stronger than average, driven only by the desire to consume flesh.
Taking the weakest [Villager] as an example:
If two Wraith (Villagers) appeared on the field, Kenmei could handle them. If there were three, he could take one down with him before dying. If the count hit four? Kenmei felt he might as well just "Alt+F4" on the spot and restart the run.
But if more than one [Butcher] or [Hunter] appeared? Kenmei would only die with regret.
This was the intelligence Kenmei had gathered so far. He couldn't rule out the existence of other special classes within the Wraiths. After all, a functional village couldn't run without professions other than manual labor.
Furthermore, the data stated the Temple of All Living Things was an ancient monastery with a thousand-year legacy. In ancient times, the wealthy and the nobility would inevitably visit. Since guest rooms on the mountain were likely limited, this unnamed village at the foot of the mountain would have been the prime lodging area.
Kenmei extrapolated further: perhaps the village had a booming tourism industry due to the Temple. The bodyguards of those rich merchants and nobles might have also been caught up in the catastrophe and died there.
To Kenmei, this unnamed, ghostly village was essentially a "Lite Version" of the Temple. At least it was a dungeon he could attempt to raid.
It was a manageable substitute.
Unlike the Temple itself. In the beginning, Kenmei had merely read the words on the archway, and something—completely lacking any martial ethics—had tried to use him as a coordinate to breach the veil and invade reality. That place was purely demonic.
Until he had absolute power, Kenmei wouldn't set foot on that mountain. If he couldn't beat them, he could at least avoid them. For now, he would stick to guerrilla warfare on the outskirts just to scrape by.
"Man, this is tough."
He needed a way to conquer that village. Killing four had netted him 3,200 Points. How many Points would the remaining fifty-one yield?
He would go from poverty to luxury in a single bound.
He was practically drooling at the thought.
Kenmei casually crushed a Cursed Spirit walking next to him just because its left foot stepped out before its right. The feeling of seeing a treasure he couldn't touch was agonizing.
Frustrated, a heavy, low-pressure aura radiated from him. He looked incredibly gloomy.
Fortunately, it was still early, and most people hadn't arrived at school yet. Otherwise, he would have earned a new "Emo" reputation.
"Someone's here this early?"
From the rear staircase, Kenmei spotted a figure cleaning in the Class A classroom.
Click.
He slid the door open and saw a student in the Aoyama Academy female uniform, completely focused. She held a chalkboard eraser and was straining on her tiptoes, trying to erase a bit of chalk drawing at the very top of the board.
It was likely a spot missed by yesterday's cleaning duty. The smudge was inconspicuous; Kenmei only noticed it because the girl was trying so hard to reach it.
However, due to her petite stature, reaching that height was a bit of a struggle for her.
"Let me get that."
Kenmei thought for less than a second. Before the girl even noticed someone else was in the room, he silently walked up behind her. He grabbed a second eraser from the podium and wiped away the markings for her, saving her the effort of jumping.
"Huh? Oh, thank you... Isayama-kun?"
"No problem, Classmate Chi-dan-ta."
Kenmei placed the eraser back on the podium and walked down the aisle, ignoring the surprised noise behind him.
The girl was Eru Chitanda—the one who had nearly given Kenmei "Tentacle Phobia" and instilled a deep sense of dread in him. She always arrived earlier than the students on cleaning duty.
Kenmei replayed the scene in his mind:
In the morning sun, the girl straining on her tiptoes caused her shirt to ride up, revealing a flash of pale, toned skin at her waist. Her midriff swayed with her movements.
He didn't know why, but he simply didn't want the guys coming in later to see that. So, he helped her.
Of course, those terrifying invisible tentacles had sensed his approach and frantically signaled an attack posture, which was a massive buzzkill.
Luckily, having died five times last night, Kenmei's mental fortitude had hardened. His disgust and fear levels had dropped significantly, allowing him to maintain control and not instinctively attack her.
"Hm?"
Kenmei raised an eyebrow. As he bent down to organize his bag, a pleasant scent wafted from in front of him. It was Eru Chitanda.
The girl's eyes went wide with curiosity.
"Isayama-kun, why did you call me 'Classmate Chi-dan-ta'?"
"Sorry, that was rude of me, Chitanda-san."
Making jokes about people's names wasn't polite. Kenmei just thought the nickname made her seem cuter. Saying it to her face, however, was a slip-up.
"It's because the pronunciation of 'Chitanda' sounds like 'Chi-dan-ta'—which means 'Eating Egg Tart'—in Mandarin."
"It's okay! You helped me just now, Isayama-kun."
Eru Chitanda waved her hands hurriedly, showing she didn't mind.