Return Of The Strongest Player

The occasional sound of dripping water, the approaching sound of footsteps, and the noise of his own, strained breathing kept Arthur awake, preventing him from entering a slumber he may never be able to escape.

The barrier held strong, protecting the crimson-eyed man from the few pursuers that hadn't perished during the explosion. However, Arthur wasn't certain whether he could survive with such wounds.

The flesh was ripped from his body, leaving only remnants of tendons and his bare skeletal structure. Blood splattered on the floor, and was diluted by the dirty water that traveled rapidly, brushing across Arthur's body.

'I don't have any mana,' thought Arthur, his pained expression displaying the sheer severity of his condition. The threat of death loomed over his head, and with only a single drop of mana that was essential to keep his mana circuits from collapsing, he couldn't regenerate.

He had reached a dead-end.

He was aware that not all of his plans would work, but such an outcome was outside his expectations.

There was no escape from the eventual death that awaited.

"There he is!" A few men finally reached the location, rushing towards the crimson-eyed man with brandished weapons and fiery gazes, probably due to having been wronged by Arthur on several occasions.

From a party of dozens, they had degraded into merely four people.

Their advance was quick, but as soon as they reached the invisible barrier, their faces collided with it. Two people broke their noses, while the other two managed to get away with a few bruises.

"What is this?" Man Number 1 asked no one in particular, caressing the cold, sturdy, invisible wall. His palm brushed across it, creating a faint repelling force that caused an electric shock to course across his hand.

Man Number 1 withdrew his hand, directing a cold glare towards the dying figure of the crimson-eyed man.

Men Number 2 and 3 were just as confused, exchanging glances as they wondered what could be separating them from experiencing the most satisfying feeling in the entire world; the cold-blooded murder of their arch nemesis.

He had disrespected their village and even murdered dozens of their residents.

He deserved to die.

Man Number 4 was more rational, and considered the possibility of the barrier being related to the legends he had heard about. His heart sank as he gazed at the altar beside the barrier, his irises narrowing at the sight.

'The Legend of the Baron Of Death.'

*

Hundreds of years ago, there existed a figure by the name of Severin Nocturne. With an incredibly potent affinity to the complex concept of death, he rose to fame while pursuing the art of necromancy, and the act of "playing with death."

Many condemned the act, referring to it as "unholy" and "a disgrace to the laws of nature." However, paying no mind to such opinions, Severin Nocturne continued to polish his skill, growing tremendously and paving a path for those who came after him.

Despite being a mere High Ranker, he could decimate Divine Rankers with a flick of his wrist. He held true power; eternal power.

Many began following him, and he caused destructive waves of chaos across the tower, shaking the entirety of the spire. His bold moves and arrogant personality was universally condemned, but he did not care.

He continued to grow, shattering limit after after limit.

But eventually, he fell.

Like an Angel of Death falling from grace, his fall was monumental. It was not mourned, and was instead celebrated. Tyranny was not appreciated, and although many followed him, no one regretted abandoning him at the last second.

His fall allowed others to grasp his position and influence, and the tower entered a new age; a new era.

No one knew how he fell.

All they knew was that somewhere, his inheritance lay, free for anyone to grasp and build their influence. Even a commoner–when presented with the legacy of The Severen Nocturne–could become an Emperor.

His era ended, inviting new growth for society.

*

Man Number 4 recalled the legend, realizing that the legacy contained an invisible barrier and an altar, and as he gazed at what lay before him, he realized that it matched the descriptions immaculately.

However, it wasn't known what floor the inheritance was discovered on, which left him skeptical. Could this truly be a legacy? And why was it on the First Floor? Why would such an arrogant figure leave his inheritance for mere First Floor players to find?

The four men attempted to break through the barrier for a few minutes before eventually giving up. Their hostility was immense, but they were subconsciously aware that breaking through was impossible.

They could only give up.

Once they left, silence descended upon the cave, and the sound of dripping and rushing water was once again distinguishable.

Arthur writhed in pain as the adrenaline faded, banging his head on the walls to distract himself from dark thoughts. The thoughts suggested the easy way out; to use Skofnung and slice his throat.

Life was pointless.

Why live with such pain?

Enter the endless bliss after death. The warmth.

For a second, Arthur truly considered pursuing what the voices in his head suggested, but he shook his head violently, burying those thoughts at the back of his mind. Alas, the action caused several cramps to form.

His thoughts wandered across the eternal abyss.

Suddenly, a thought appeared in his mind; a way to save himself from the eventual death.

'What if I partially cripple my mana circuits to use the mana stone? Since my Blessing and mana circuits can't coexist yet, using the mana stone causes immense pressure to assault my circuits. But what if I just cripple a part of it?'

'Then, the total destruction can be delayed.'

'But I can't lose my access to mana… This will drastically reduce my power in exchange for delaying the destruction by a few days at the latest.'

Arthur gritted his teeth, unable to find a solution to his predicament.