I sighed, and my eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall.
It read: 11:59 AM.
A flicker of happiness swelled up inside me. In only one minute, I would awaken. While children of Baldia are bestowed their marks before their teenage years, they do not awaken until they are seventeen. I was born at 12:00 PM, January 3rd, seventeen years ago.
The clammy, disgusting waiting room was crowded with other mark bearers. These aspirants had already awakened and now sat tense, careful to avoid my gaze.
You see that girl seated next to me with cute dimples and a tattoo of a jester playing a trumpet on her cheek? And that boy across from me with a warhammer on one cheek and a sun on the other? Those are marks. If chosen, children of Baldia will manifest one or more of the Ten God's marks. These marks separate those destined to rule and those destined to grovel in the dirt of the kingdom's outskirts.
Of course, I bear a mark. A dark half crescent moon resides on the right side of my cheek. Black blood slithers down from its edge in a beautiful arc to my lips—the unmistakable mark of the Death God.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Only one mark?
Don't worry, manifesting the mark of Death is rarer than having nine of the Gods' marks. That girl with the dimples had a thirty percent chance of manifesting one mark. The boy, proudly puffing out his chest, had a ten percent chance of two marks.
The list goes on until it reaches ten. But none of those percentages account for the Death God. As far as I know, the only child throughout history to be bestowed His blessing is me.
Yet for all my uniqueness, my beginning was as wretched as any markless vermin. Thanks to my mother, my life started on the outskirts of Baldia. There, food is as precious as silver, and water as priceless as gold. I starved for years, all because she was useless and couldn't bear a mark. Whether it was by fate or pure luck that I managed to climb out of that cesspool, I do not care.
*Congratulations, Morthen! You have been selected to represent the Death God! Open your runes to see your ability!*
Suddenly, the system's voice rang in my head. Oddly, it was a girl's voice, but I'm not complaining. She sounded hot.
A jolt of electricity crackled through my veins and chest. My awakening was complete. Since the mark manifested itself on me when I was a child, I did not have to undergo the dreadful awakening process again. The mana had already been forced into my bloodstream, and my core fully awakened, both sitting idly until now.
Though I could feel the power blossoming inside of me—like a serene river, suddenly thrown into chaos by a hurricane. I smiled, and my long black hair was drenched in sweat. Feeling anxious, I didn't waste any time. A couple of years after my mark manifested, I was adopted into the Shadow God Nyx's clan. There, I learned how to navigate the system.
Status, I thought in my head.
In front of me, only my hollow eyes could see shiny, gold runes displaying my attributes.
Though usually calm, I lost my composure and slammed my fist into the wall behind me. The building shook, and I garnered a few odd looks from the neighboring awakened. Not that I cared—they were vermin.
My breaths were heavy.
"I'm…Immor…" I mumbled out loud, surprised.
***
Name: Morthen Vire
Rank: D
Marks: Crescent of the Blood-Ridden Moon – Mark of the Death God.
Abilities: Immortality.
Ability Catch: With each death, a shackle will be placed on Morthen Vire.
Shackles –
Ascension pathway: Store 200 D-rank Monster cores. Store 30 Human cores. Earn two shackles.
***
What the fuck. My gaze stayed on the runes displaying my 'ability catch.' I've never heard of an ability that has a drawback. What's a shackle?... some ability hindrance?
I laughed maniacally.
It doesn't matter. Thank you, Death God. Thank you so much—you have given me a gift worth an endless treasure. Immortality. Even if it weren't combat-related, acquiring an ability this exceptional was unheard of as a lowly D rank.
Since I was bestowed a mark by only one of the ten Gods, I was granted one ability. The importance of gaining an ability with limitless potential cannot be overstated. The possibilities were endless.
The ascension pathway doesn't seem rigorous either. To store monster cores, one has to slay the beast and absorb its core. The same is true for human cores, but to my knowledge, that has never been a requirement for any other God's pathway.
Any sane person would slay thirty humans to ascend in this cruel world.
Though… how can I ascend to Rank C if I'm required to die twice, yet I'm immortal? It was a contradiction that the system did not make clear.
I shrugged and closed my runes. The system was flawless, so I'm sure there's a way to ascend, and right now, my focus was elsewhere.
Feeling numbness in my foot from prolonged sitting, I stood. Other freshly awakened Scion aspirants looked at me. Their eyes held only fear for what was to come.
I made my way down the row of seated aspirants until I reached a desk at the end. Behind a sheet of glass, a woman sat, checking names off a list.
She glanced up at me, noticing my presence.
"I awakened. We can start the trial," I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
She picked up her pen and scratched my name off the list.
"Good. You were the last one. Let us begin."
I followed the line of aspirants through a sliding door that led outside. One by one, we boarded an air carrier. Everyone wore an expression mixed with dread and angst, except for me, because I knew with certainty that I would not be joining them in their death.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention earlier, but the Gods have this nasty habit of playing with humanity. They are the true wretches.