For a long moment, Alaric simply stared, convinced the blood loss had finally tipped him into delusion.
The ethereal blue screen floated in the darkness of his cell, its light the only thing illuminating the dark stone walls.
SSS-Rank. It highest possible classification, a tier so legendary it was considered a myth, a theoretical limit the System was capable of but never bestowed!
He blinked, expecting the hallucination to vanish, but it seemed very real right now,
With hesitation Alaric spoke in a dried raspy voice "Reveal soul Status."
[Status]
Name: Alaric
Level: 1 (Super-Soldier Realm)
Stats:
- Strength: 3
- Agility: 4
- Physique: 2
Talent: Overlord Body [Rank F - Evolvable]
Innate Abilities:
- Adaptation: Your body adapts to external forces. Sustaining damage grants Damage Points (DP) and triggers targeted physical evolution.
- Damage Points (DP) can be used to evolve your Talent and body.
- Targeted evolution will grant permanent stat increases based on the location and nature of the damage sustained.
"Haha."
A bitter, hollow laugh escaped his lips.
The numbers were pathetic. A healthy, untrained boy his age would have a baseline of 5 in all stats. His were those of a sickly child, it was expects after years of malnourishment and abuse.
Yet, below the damning stats was the talent. Overlord Body. The name was absurdly grandiose for a Rank F ability, but the word "Evolvable" pulsed with a faint, promising light.
And its description… it was the key. He read it again, his heart beginning to hammer against his cracked ribs.
Sustaining damage grants Damage Points and triggers targeted physical evolution.
A new notification flashed on the screen, pulling him from his revelry.
[Overlord Body requires initialization. This process will remake the Host's foundational structure to establish a new baseline.]
[Warning: The process will cause extreme, systemic trauma. The pain level is projected to be beyond normal human thresholds. Proceed? Y/N]
"Extreme pain?"
Alaric almost scoffed. What was one more bout of agony in a life defined by it? He had lived his entire existence on his knees, a dog to be kicked and beaten for the amusement of his betters.
He was already dying on this cold floor. What did he have to lose? To be remade, to have his very foundation changed… it was the only hope he had.
His finger, stained with his own blood, trembled as he reached out and pressed the glowing 'Y'.
For a second, nothing happened. Then, it began.
It was not pain as he knew it. This was not the sharp crack of a breaking bone or the dull ache of a bruise.
This was a pain that reached all the way to his soul!
"BOOM!"
A massive firestorm ignited in the marrow of his bones, a searing, white-hot agony that made Caius's most brutal beating feel like a lover's caress.
He could feel his skeleton groaning under an immense, invisible pressure, the very structure of his bones grinding, cracking, and re-forming with microscopic precision.
His muscles, weak and torn, began to unravel and re-knit themselves, a billion threads of flesh tearing apart and weaving back together, thicker, denser, and impossibly stronger.
"Ahhhh!"
A scream was ripped from his throat, raw and inhuman. He thrashed on the floor, his body convulsing as every cell screamed in a chorus of rebirth.
The process was merciless, a system-inflicted torture designed to break a man down to his component parts and build him anew. His vision went white, then black, his mind threatening to shatter under the onslaught of pure, unfiltered agony.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over.
The pain vanished, leaving a profound, echoing silence in its wake. The suffocating pressure was gone, replaced by a feeling of… wholeness. For the first time in his life, Alaric felt no pain. No aches, no sharp stabs from his ribs, no dull throbbing from his head. There was only a calm, thrumming power coursing through his veins and skin.
He pushed himself up, his movements fluid and effortless. The world seemed sharper, the darkness of the cell less absolute.
He could hear the faint drip of water from a crack in the ceiling, the scuttling of a rat in a far corner, and other sounds he would have never noticed before. He looked down at his hands. The cuts and bruises from Caius's fists were gone.
As he watched, the deeper gashes began to close, the skin knitting itself together in real-time, leaving behind faint pink lines that faded to nothing within seconds.
He willed the System open again.
[Status]
Name: Alaric
Level: 1 (Super-Soldier Realm)
Stats:
- Strength: 10
- Agility: 10
- Physique: 10
Talent: Overlord Body [Rank F - Evolvable]
...
[Physique has reached a threshold. Adaptation has unlocked: Minor Cellular Regeneration.]
The numbers were staggering. He had gone from being critically weak to possessing the stats of a freshly trained knight in a matter of minutes.
His Brian's exploded as several thoughts went through his head.
He turned his gaze to the only other object in the cell: the thick, iron-barred door.
He walked toward it, his steps steady and silent. He drew back his fist, the movement now feeling natural and powerful. He didn't know any techniques, any fancy martial arts. All he had was a lifetime of pain and this newfound, explosive strength.
He threw a punch.
It wasn't a wild swing but a controlled, focused strike aimed at the center of the solid iron door. His fist connected with a deafening BANG! that echoed through the dungeon corridor like a thunderclap.
The shockwave of the impact rattled the hinges and sent a plume of dust into the air.
He pulled his hand back. There, in the thick, rust-pitted iron, was a deep, perfectly formed, fist-sized dent. The metal around it was warped and buckled.
Alaric stared at his knuckles. They weren't broken. They weren't even bruised. He felt nothing but a faint, satisfying tingle. He looked from his unharmed fist to the brutalized iron and back again.
"This!"
"H-how I'm i so strong?"
A slow smile, the first genuine smile of his life, spread across his face. It was cold, sharp, and filled with a dangerous promise.