The village lay in ruins, a skeletal remnant of the ancient architecture that had once been a thriving home to hundreds. Smoke curled into the air from shattered wooden homes, the scent of burnt rice, blood, and charred bodies thick enough to choke. Fires flickered along the streets, licking the remains of collapsed structures, casting eerie, dancing shadows on the faces of the few survivors who huddled among the debris.
Children sobbed quietly, muffled by the trembling hands of their parents, their soot-covered faces streaked with tears. A group of villagers knelt in the remains of a shattered temple, eyes darting toward the open street where death prowled. They whispered amongst themselves in hushed, desperate tones.
“The heroes… they’ll come, won’t they? The heroes party- The Avenge Guild! was here earlier—surely they wouldn’t abandon us?”
“The king promised that they would purge the monsters,” a woman murmured, clutching a cloth-wrapped bundle to her chest. “Maybe this one is one of them. A summoned warrior.”
All eyes turned toward the lone figure moving through the wreckage. A cloaked man, his steps measured, his face obscured beneath his hood. Unlike the armored heroes they had seen before, he bore no insignia, no guild markings. His clothing was worn, his weapons meager—just a battered knife, pitted and dulled from overuse. He is clearly an outsider from another world. His clothes bore markings, letters in a language not of this world. A single sleeve reads “Backseat Freestyle”
Signaling them to follow the other survivors.
Everyone in that village seen him stalking their invaders. Calculating his attack and guiding the survivors to an escape route.
A child, no older than eight, whimpered as she clutched her father’s bloodied hand. His breathing was shallow, his once-proud armor—the crest of the king’s personal guard—dented and smeared with crimson. She assists the humbled warrior through a path of other traumatized survivors. His sightless eyes stared down in self-pity, lips parted as though to speak, but only silence followed.
“Papa?” the girl whispered, shaking him. “Papa, wake up.”
One of the surviving warriors, his own injuries grave, turned his hollow gaze toward the cloaked man and rasped, “He is not one of them… not from the Avenge Guild. He was not summoned. He does not belong.”
The villagers recoiled. If he was not a hero, then what was he?
Before they could answer that question, the roar of a beast shattered the fragile quiet. A lizardman, armored in thick, jagged stone plates, stomped into the wreckage, its beady yellow eyes locking onto the survivors. A blue slime squelched beside it, its amorphous form pulsing with unnatural intelligence.
The cloaked man’s grip tightened on his knife. He had been waiting for this.
The girl screamed as the lizardman raised its crude, rock-forged cleaver. The wounded soldier could do nothing but watch, breath shallow, his strength drained. The villagers shrank away, expecting death.
But the blade did not fall.
A blur of motion—a black streak against the crimson glow of firelight. The cloaked man was there, knife in hand, parrying the downward strike. Sparks erupted from the impact as steel clashed against stone, and with a growl, he drove his knee into the beast’s gut.
The lizardman staggered, but a slime lunged. Its gelatinous body stretched unnaturally, an amorphous arm lashing forward like a whip. The cloaked man twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike as he ducked into the wreckage of a collapsed building.
The monsters advanced, relentless.
–
The earth shook as the lizardman manipulated the ground beneath him with a smile. The surroundings waving from quakes as he transformed the very earth into weapons.
The flick ofhis wrists instantly crafting, sword after sword, hammers, and maces.
The villagers held their breath.
Then without warning a wall of fire came barrelling towards him.
A new enemy had rntered from the shadows. Licking the side of his face then pushing him away. A female ogre, a red-skinned beauty, her body adorned with embers forming tribalistic markings. Draped in a gi with gilded armored bracers, her hair and makeup were messy giving her a wild, dangerous look. Her eyes gleamed with a violent, lusty aura as she approached. She taunted the cloaked man, through her wide tusks her voice was a mocking melody as she launched low flames, forcing him to jump and dodge.
“Spamming?! Really??” he said to himself, as she laughed, her attacks relentless.
Her feet were ablaze with powerful flames. The environment fell around him as she kicked waves of flames around him. He cleverly tried to use his blade to block her feet in hopes of damaging her. However he watched as his chipped knife began to slowly shatter under the weight of her foot.
The cloaked man’s breath was ragged, but his stance was unyielding. He could not afford to falter. But
Slowly a painful truth was understood. These monsters are just playing with him. There was no way any ki blood would match strength with him. Despite the bravado and relatively good fighting ability he was no true player, and certainly no hero. He had no stats to match this. He didn’t have the power. They were playing along.
He dodged to the left, narrowly escaping the snapping jaws of the snarling lizardman. His cloak billowed around him, masking his face and form as he moved with surprising agility. The ancient Chinese village around him was in shambles, wooden houses reduced to splinters, and frightened villagers cowered behind debris. The
The blue slime transformed into a young man with a shark’s head, darting towards the cloaked man. He tried punching but Each impact reverberated through the slime’s small frame but gathered force. The ogre woman showed her contempt, knocking the shark-headed figure away. He identified her as a menhera.
The cloaked man was staggering, struggling to keep up with the relentless onslaught. His opponents were coordinated, their attacks precise and brutal. The villagers watched in horror, urging him to escape, to leave the fight and save himself. But he remained, driven by a purpose only he understood.
–
The monsters had Rain pinned.
The lizardman stomped forward, summoning jagged stone weapons from the ground, each one sharper and deadlier than the last. The earth trembled beneath its monstrous will, shifting unnaturally, as if the very ground obeyed its desires. The ogre woman, licking her lips in sadistic delight, launched a spiraling blaze of flame directly at him. The searing wave struck like a battering ram, sending Rain hurtling upward. His body twisted through the air before slamming into the rubble-strewn ground with a sickening thud. Pain radiated from every nerve, his lungs struggled for breath.
“Fall damage?!” he hissed through clenched teeth. His vision blurred, his muscles screamed in protest, but the weight of his pride bore down heavier than any physical agony. He couldn’t lose—not here, not like this. He dug his fingers into the dirt, forcing himself up, staggering to his feet.
Suddenly, a tall lanky red-skinned oni man intervened. His long, wild hair resembled flames, and he wore a flowing orange gi over baggy Shaolin attire. His forehead was a host to a single long thin horn.His chest was adorned with tattoos, a baseball cap perched arrogantly on his head. He was powerful, clearly the leader of this monstrous group. The oni man laughed, his voice a rumble of disdain as he watched the fight.
He commanded them in an unrecognizable language to back off. His tone leaving no room for argument.
The monsters obeyed, leaving the cloaked man to face the oni one-on-one. The battle took on a new intensity, the air thick with anticipation. Until instantly, the heat was on.
The Oni launched attack after attack. As if blow torches were expelled from his palms but the cloaked man’s movements were precise. Even though the Oni appeared to throw ten attacks per second nothing could land. The cloaked man couldn’t fight like this earlier and the other monsters were aware of that. It was as if he had been moving on pure reflex, and now, under the oni’s challenge he’s gone all in.
But the ki blood squad’s leader was lightly puzzled. Smirking as if he had discovered something. The man stood in place while the oni signaled the others to surround him and subsequently attack.
Vicious bombardments converged from every direction. The attacks were being dodged from point blank range as he began demonstrating the reflexes of lightning itself Almost effortlessly.
Their environment began to crumble from the sheer force of the strikes. Dust began to rise covering the battleground in a thick smoke screen.
The oni once again began to talk in their mysterious language. Then the smoke settled and the man stood without moving.
“Okay confession, I know i’m cooked” the cloaked man admitted, his voice steady despite his evident fatigue. “I don’t have the kind of power that matches you but… yeah I’m going to beat you somehow! Trust”
The oni stood before him, exuding an effortless dominance. He spoke in a foreign tongue, his voice guttural and mocking. Rain didn’t understand the words, but he understood the meaning.
Disrespect.
The oni turned his back on Rain and signaled for the other ki bloods to wipe out the rest of the survivors. They walked straight past Rain. The lizardman bumping him with his shoulder while passing. The slime laughing
The man’s blood boiled, his fists clenched. He wiped the sweat and dirt from his face, ignoring the trembling in his limbs. He wasn’t out yet. He wouldn’t allow this monster to have the last laugh.
“no, don’t do this!” he snarled, his voice hoarse, his pride still very much intact despite the situation. “If you think I’m done, you’re dumber than you look. Finish the fight.”
Tears welled in his eyes—not from weakness, but from sheer frustration. He almost had him. He had fought too long to be cast aside like nothing. There are too many lives on the line. The oni merely grinned, his hands weaving through the air, pulling in all the surrounding ki. The heat intensified as he compressed it into a massive sphere of fire. The ball of destruction pulsated, growing. The sheer power warped the air around it, sucking oxygen, making it unbearable to breathe. The villagers recoiled, shielding their faces as the inferno swelled over their heads.
Rain braced himself. There was no escaping this. Death. Obliteration. Scorched earth.
Then the ball split apart.
A figure tore through it like a divine force, a woman riding a motorcycle soaring through the sky. A small young woman with an incredibly large axe, wrapped in pure ki, sliced through the heart of the flame, detonating it upon impact. The explosion sent shockwaves across the battlefield, knocking away the small squad of ki bloods before they could harm anyone.
A high-yellow beauty landed with effortless grace, her green eyes flashing with confidence. Her blonde braided hair draped down her back. She wears a navy blue leotard with red accents. ”What the hell was even that?!” he yells watching the towering weapon in her grip—a monstrous hybrid of axe and hammer.
The weapon was nearly four feet of solid destruction. One side boasted a massive, rune-etched axe blade, thick and curved, wide enough to cleave a horse in half. The other end held a blunt war hammer, its weight designed to crush armor, bones, and confidence alike. Its hilt was absurdly long—more like a halberd than an axe—wrapped in obsidian leather, with glowing sigils pulsing down the shaft.
She cleared her throat to regain her cool. “Name’s Camilla,” she said, her voice dripped with superiority. “Summoned hero with the Avenge Guild.”
She was beautiful, her curves, her eyes, her lips even her smell. This is a rare kind of beauty in front of him but all of Rain’s instincts tell him to focus..
She barely spared Rain a glance, eyes already sizing up the battlefield. Then, with sharp disapproval, she turned to him.
“Is this your mess?” she asked, her tone cutting. Her gaze trailed over his attire. “All the clothing of a man from Earth, but no gear, no stats, no rank. You’re just some rogue player sneaking inside a tower gate. There are easier ways to kill yourself. I should kick you out right now.”
Rain chuckled, despite himself, voice calm in the chaos. “I guess you could do that. But your priorities are all backwards if you want to kick me out more than you want to put on pants. That’s crazy.”
Camilla’s face flushed with anger, but she quickly regained her composure. A towering figure approached behind her, clad in massive armor, a masked behemoth. The A-Tank. His presence alone sent a ripple of unease through the rest of the team.
“No skills. No stats…” A-Tank’s voice was low, more a growl than a statement. “All. Weakness.”
Another player, armored in the colors of a nation Rain knew all too well, spoke up. Freedom Lucas, the commander. Even in the garb of this world, he wore a winged cowl and bore the emblem of stars and stripes across his plated armor. His rifle gleamed with guilded markings of America.
“The one who sneaks into gates to level up without killing…” Freedom Lucas muttered, scrutinizing him. “I don’t know how you’ve survived this long, but you better stop and let actual players do this.”
He shook his head, as if disgusted. “That’s the brokest behavior I’ve ever seen.”
Camilla snickered at that. “Oh, you’re that guy. The player with no skills. Not a single win in the Tower Combat League.”
Another woman stood among them, more level-headed, clad in flowing robes, her glowing eyes gazing into floating orbs. She sighed, clearly more mystically attuned than the rest. Cumulus.
“Enough. The ki bloods are regrouping,” she warned. “We need to focus up.”
Her team grumbled but obeyed.
“What’s your name?” Camilla demanded, tightening her grip on her massive axe.
Rain’s stare was defiant, unwavering. “…Rain.”
Cumulus’s expression softened just slightly. “Look, Rain. We’re players. We stand for nations, we save whole worlds. They aren’t here to laugh at you. But you’ve been at this for so long with nothing to show for it. And even we know that.”
Something in her words stung deeper than any insult. Some words cut a man instinctively, tearing through his core. Rain had never attained power, never mattered. And the one truth he couldn’t escape was how much he wanted to.
“What would you know?” he muttered coldly.
Cumulus exhaled but did not waver. “Us players can destroy entire countries with our techniques, and we’ll do it for a highlight reel. You’re lucky enough to survive these dungeons. Trust me. It’s not all fame and fortune. It’s still the strong crushing the weak. Every dungeon, every arena, every nation, every day.”
The air grew heavy as a massive presence made itself known. The oni man had recovered.
In an instant, he took a cheap shot at Camilla’s back, his flaming fist igniting on impact. She barely had time to react before she was sent flying, her body skipping across the ruins like a stone across water but something was strange as if she was propelled by explosions mid-air.
Before Rain could process it, the battle ground erupted. A horde of ki bloods surged forth, their combined ki forming enormous pillars of fire, overwhelming the Avenge Guild with sheer numbers.
A phenomenon known as a Wave.
Hundreds of ravenous monsters tore across the battlefield, their elemental ki warping the air into a maelstrom of destruction. Ogres with flame techniques swept through the battlefield. Flames roared, electricity crackled, and the sheer density of energy made it impossible to breathe.
The Avenge Guild barely held their ground. Several ki bloods attempted to lift Camilla’s hammer to attack the others but it wouldn’t budge.
She flipped her blonde braid back, chin raised. “Only the worthy can lift Mjolnir.” She said with a smirk.
Mjolnir waited, buried in the earth like a myth. Unclaimed.
The horde swarmed around the tall Oni, and the team of players understood that they had made a grave mistake in underestimating the Oni. They mistook him for a common warrior when truly he was this massive horde’s commander. The ogres’ combined power ignited the battlefield, turning it into a blazing inferno. The temperature skyrocketed, creating a shimmering heatwave that distorted vision, separated the Avenge Guild, and choked the air.
Then Rain saw it. The lizardman and slime pummeling Camilla into the dirt. And the ogre woman—her eyes locked on him with cruel delight. Rain may not have liked what Camilla had to say but he couldn’t watch her die. He flinched.
“Hero! dodge!!!!”
The little girl’s voice cracked through the battlefield at the perfect moment. With a twisted smirk, the ogre rushed in using her fist like a rocket to move on him and fast.
Every survival instinct screamed for him to flee, but she was already there. Her burning foot slammed into his chest, driving him to the ground. She’s loving it, the look in her eyes had a very different intensity as she smiled. Rain knows all too well the power players had over normal people and this was her playing. That foot could have went through him like a hot knife through butter. She could’ve killed him. She didn’t. She just wanted to make him suffer.
Rain gasped, the heat searing into his flesh. Powerless. Again.
And then—
Something stirred within him.
Rain steadied himself, his eyes hardening. “You can’t understand a word I’m saying,” he muttered, forcing his breath to steady. “But that sadistic ego of yours… it’s going to cost you. Everything.”
She picked Rain up and threw him across from her.
The ogre sneered. Then lunged.
Rain dodged. Perfectly.
“Chimera Weaver.” he said
She lifted her foot to kick again—but he rolled, fast. The flaming heel missed him by inches.
A mile long wall of fire erupted as she cleverly created a projectile, leaving a molten trench in the very earth behind Rain.
She lunged forward to pounce—
—but Rain swept his leg out desperately.
She stumbled.
Stumbled hard.
And fell.
Directly onto Mjolnir—half-buried in the rubble where it had landed after being knocked from her hands during her fight with the wave. The axe blade was waiting like fate itself.
The razor edge pierced through her torso with a sickening crack.
The ogre froze. Her eyes went wide.
Rain sat up, coughing, watching as the fire in her slowly dimmed. Her fingers twitched, grasping at the blade, but couldn’t move it. Her monstrous strength, her ki blood power—it meant nothing now.
Rain didn’t look at her. He didn’t need to. His fist slammed into her chest—right where she had burned him. Her body went limp.
He took a deep breath, and the battlefield shifted. Fire nudged toward him, drawn to his presence.
After killing the female ogre, something inside him unlocked. The burn on his chest didn’t ache—it thrived. “Thank you for the xp” Flames coiled around his fists, licking at his skin like they had always belonged there. Rain looked at the stars through the twilight sky as if not a single thing on this planet could stop what happens now.
“Blaze Knuckle.”
Rain shot forward like a human missile, flames bursting beneath his feet, propelling him across the battlefield. His fist collided with a lizardman’s skull, and the impact rippled outward in a concussive shockwave, sending bodies flying. The force was devastating.
Before the monster’s body even hit the ground, Rain was already moving.
Jet Impact.
He thrust his palm forward, and a flaming explosion detonated from his hand, sending half a dozen enemies screaming into the sky. But the trick wasn’t the hit itself—
—it was the aftershock.
A secondary burst of fire ignited midair, launching the bodies like flaming rockets across the battlefield. The horde screeched in terror.
The Avenge Guild watched, confused.
Camilla stared in disbelief. “What… what was that?! You had no skills! And now you pull this shit?!”
“Those are ki blood techniques… Isn’t he human?!” Freedom Lucas asks.
The guild exchanged uncertain glances. Cumulus squinted, watching Rain’s every move.
Rain didn’t stop.
With his new ability, he ripped his hands into the earth.
The battlefield quaked.
A massive boulder lifted into the air, floating with invisible force. Rain’s eyes gleamed.
Then, with a flick of his hand—
—the rock shattered.
Thousands of stone weapons burst from its remains, flooding the sky.
The battlefield became consumed by shadow and for a brief moment, the moonlight that lit the battlefield was blotted out.
The battlefield fell silent. A shift had occurred. And for the first time, Rain wasn’t just surviving.
He was winning.
And then—
The rain of blades began.
Weapons tore through the horde like falling meteors.
“His body is glowing… everytime he kills a ki blood ”
Freedom Lucas muttered, “…If he gets the skills of everything he kills, then—”
Camilla’s breath hitched as realization dawned. “…What does that mean for us?”
A massive sword hurtled toward A-Tank.
Camilla reacted instantly, swinging her axe to deflect it.
She turned toward Rain, anger and something else—fear—written on her face.
A-Tank, however, was thrilled. His booming voice shook the battlefield.
“POWERLESS WANT FIGHT?! TANK SHOW POWER!!”
It took both Freedom Lucas and Cumulus to physically hold the rampaging monster of a man back.
“Dumbass, we’ve got a boss fight coming!” Lucas snapped. “Save it!”
Camilla had bigger problems. The large Oni horde leader came for her.
She grinned. Finally, something fun.
Rain, meanwhile, had problems of his own.
The slime wouldn’t die.
It twisted and reformed every time he slashed it, it would reform ass if he were simply a body of water. Making matters worse as it multiplying into new versions of itself. Before Rainh knew it he was facing A dozen slimes
“Alright, we’re not doing this,” Rain muttered. He ignited.
Impact Knuckle.
The explosion evaporated the slimes completely.
The world stilled.
Rain stood there, breathing hard, bathed in fire, more powerful than ever.
He turned—Camilla was still fighting the Oni.
Rain, meanwhile, had problems of his own.
He’d hawked the slime through the battlefield and discovered that the slime wouldn’t die.
It twisted and reformed every time he slashed it. It began using new techniques that allowed it to begin multiplying into new versions of itself. A dozen, then twenty, then forty.
“Alright, we’re not doing this,” Rain muttered. He ignited.
Blaze Knuckle.
His super heated fist rocketed him through every slime at once.
He turned—Camilla was still fighting the Oni.
She overpowered the Oni with ease and lightning fast finesse. Even withou her axe she was more than a match for him.
Rain chose his moment carefully because pettines is an art not an act. Not Capitalizing on this opportunity to make fun of Camilla for all the tough talk would be just wrong.
“You’re on your own,” he said, his voice cold
Camilla was not even having a hard time, she was adamantly saying that the Oni was “light work”.
Rain watched, amused, as Camilla got sloppy. He taunted her, mocking her predictable moves and desperate attempts to prove herself.
“You’re one of the Thor players! That Thor skill tree is so predictable! Wrap it up!” he called, his voice filled with disdain. “Go for a finisher!”
Camilla’s rage boiled over, and she unleashed her full power. The oni was overwhelmed, his defenses crumbling under her relentless assault.
Camilla, enraged by Rain’s taunts, began to use her most powerful techniques. “Thor Combination Technique!” he shouted, Calling her attack out before she could properly perform it. her attacks hitting the oni with devastating force.
“Is this yours?! She’s going hard with these weapons because she’s down bad! So she needed a big girthy axe.” He throws the axe away and calls her lame. This axe smells like a bad strip club anyways.” The distracted Camilla chases her axe and in that instant Rain finishes the oni himself.
Rain saw his opportunity. He used the lizardman’s earth technique to form a knife, finishing the oni with a final, precise slice. Beating his chest with his fists in celebration before the oni even fell.
“Thanks for the assist,” he muttered, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
The villagers thanked Rain, but he knew his motives were selfish. He needed to get stronger for the Tower Combat League, where the world’s most powerful players competed. He reflected on his new abilities, knowing that the path ahead would only get harder.
A horde of monsters appeared on the horizon, hundreds of them. The avenge guild prepared themselves getting into formation. Camilla readied her axe, her face set in determination. Rain braced himself, a wry smile on his lips.
“Ready, buddy?” he asked sarcastically.
In a flash, Rain was kicked out of the portal to the tower gate like discarded trash. He heard Camilla’s voice one last time, filled with disdain.
“Stay the hell out, ki blood” she spat.
He pushed himself up, coughing, but he wasn’t mad.
For the first time in a year, he had finally stopped suffering.
One skill. T-Reaver. That’s all he had for so long. The ability to steal techniques from anything he killed.
No way to defend himself from ki bloods. Certainly no way to kill them.
Until that moment. But now
Now, he had power.
Now, he could fight.
Now, he was going to get booked. And go over in the Tower Combat League.
His journey officially began.
First stop?
Reassessment.