"The world is most loved, huh. I wonder about that."
I exhaled, listening to the coins in my pouch.
"Five gold coins. Not much, but enough to start. How to use them wisely…"
He stood there. Longer than he needed, the world moved around him. The laughter of the streets reached him, yet sounded hollow, distant.
"What am I even supposed to do now?" he muttered under his breath. "Survive? Grow stronger? Or just… drift through the norm?"
The words left him empty. He had asked for another chance, but now that he had it, there was no real plan. Just the dull ache of existing again
For a moment, silence. Then the familiar hum brushed his thoughts.
[You seem lost.]
He exhaled, closing his eyes. "That's one way to put my situation."
[Then allow me to offer a suggestion.] The voice was calm,
[Why not become the strongest?]
He frowned. "The strongest?"
[And replace God.]
Vergil hesitated, before looking down.
"I can barely even hold a knife. How do you expect me to even fight.?"
[Then would you rather stay a loser, like before? Remember that you have me now.]
Everything around blurred. The shouts of the market owners. The warmth and smell of the new world—all gone. He blinked, and suddenly the endless void returned. The land beyond heaven and earth.
Weaver's faint smile and his cocky nature. "Yeah... I have you." Vergil smirked.
Replace God.
The idea should've sounded ridiculous. But instead, it resonated. It fit.
His reflection shimmered faintly in the black surface beneath his feet. Eyes hollow, yet burning.
"Why not?" he whispered, voice cracking into a quiet laugh. "I'll replace God."
The darkness pulsed once, like a heartbeat.
[Then let's do this.]
The voice faded, leaving behind a silence that felt different and heavier, but sharper.
When the world of Eternia blinked back into focus. The chatter, the cobblestones, the motion of life in Vergil's eyes were now steady.
[How about heading to the blacksmith?] The system suggested.
Listening to the idea, it was a good place to start. But let's ask around for directions, I thought inwardly.
My eyes found an old woman on a bench.
"Excuse me, ma'am—" The words that came out of her mouth, shattered before reaching me. They weren't words to him at all.
What? My stomach dropped. He didn't understand a thing. 'Perfect. There's even a language barrier.'
"System," he muttered under his breath.
"At least give me the language."
[Integrating language of Eternia now.]
The World shuddered. His skull felt like it was on fire. It wasn't painful but felt as if a thousand voices entered his head, whispering their alphabet and language and engraving it into his brain.
The old woman's eyes widened as he winced.
"Young man, are you alright?"
'Alright? Hardly.'
He swallowed the taste of the new language
"I… I'm fine," He said evenly. "Just adjusting."
Her expression softened. "You had me worried there."
'Worried...' he echoed quietly. He already had enough to be worried about.
"Do you know where the blacksmith is?" he asked carefully, his tone polite.
"Just head down the street and you'll see it," she replied, pointing with a finger. "It's hard to miss." She chuckled.
He turned to leave, but her voice followed
"Wait! Can I have your name?"
He hesitated. "Vergil," he said, tucking a strand of loose hair behind his earlobe.
She chuckled softly. "If you ever need advice, come and see me. I'm always here." Her eyes lingered on him.
Advice, huh? Could be a trap. Or simply interest. Either way, I'll remember her words.
"I will, if the time comes," Vergil murmured, already scanning the street for the blacksmith's workshop.
'The first step, find the blacksmith. Second, learn about this godamn world.'
He made his way down the path. The hammering reached him before the sight. Steady metallic, yet alive. When the workshop finally came into view, it felt like walking into sound itself.
Stepping inside, the smell of the forge hit first. The heat is as thick as a blanket with a hammer singing a rhythmic tune.
Sparks scattered the air like fireflies, as a massive man worked at the anvil. His strikes send a tremor throughout the wooden floorboards.
He paused, lifting his head. Smoke clung to his skin, eyes as black as coal basked in the flame.
For a moment, I felt small. A dwarf looking at a titan.
"Ah, young blood, eh?" His voice rumbled low and easy like he lived in the forge from his birth.
Vergil blinked. "Young blood?"
The man laughed. "It's just a saying, boy… though judging by you, it seems about right."
'I mean, I guess,' Vergil thought.
He turned and spotted a mirror. His reflection stared back.
He was slender and soft. A boy
ill-suited to survive here. 'I will adapt. I will survive. And I will grow stronger.'
[You're so scrawny-looking.] The system spoke in his mind at the reflection. Vergil's lips twitched, half in annoyance and half amused that this system had such tact, thinking it was just a machine.
'What did you just say?' I muttered, eyebrows furrowing.
The blacksmith asked curiously, "So, kid, what are you looking for?"
"A dagger," Vergil replied confidently, brushing off the system's jab. He wanted a weapon practical for him, and a dagger would do.
"A dagger, eh? No weapon training, I presume?"
"Yeah."
The blacksmith headed to the back and returned shortly after, holding a dagger and handing it over to him. Vergil's fingers closed around the handle, sharp and steady. No words were needed. It was more than enough.
As Vergil inspected it, the system began analysing the weapon.
[Metal Dagger]
Attack: +5
Worn but well-maintained since its making. A faint engraving is still visible at the base—an insignia of a beginner craftsman.
The blacksmith exhaled. "This dagger's been in the inventory for a while. It was my first creation, back when I was just starting. I've used it myself a few times and kept it in good condition. But because it's just... normal, adventurers don't usually want it. Not their type of weapon."
"Then thanks." Vergil chuckled, but was on guard. "How much?"
"The name's Gilbert," he said with a smirk on his face. "And it's on the house."
'Free? That doesn't happen. There's a reason.'
"Then thanks, Gilbert," Vergil chuckled, but on guard. He wouldn't let himself be duped.
"You taking on a monster subjugation by any chance?"
"I am. But... I've got no clue where to go," Vergil admitted.
Gilbert sighed. "You're new to this, huh? Just head straight from the entrance… you'll see the Guild."
Vergil paused, frowning. "Why are you helping me so much? I'm a stranger. You've got no reason to go this far."
This guy's been helpful, maybe a bit too much. The info was fine, but giving me the dagger for free? Either he's just a good man… or he has a reason.
Gilbert only smiled. "Think of it as a blacksmith's intuition."
Vergil smiled and handed over a gold coin. "Take it."
Gilbert's eyes widened. "That dagger's only worth 30 silver at best!"
Vergil fastened the weapon to his waist. "Think of it as my way of showing gratitude."
In my old world, the saying was to repay gratitude twice—and revenge tenfold.
For me? Gratitude is repaid tenfold… and revenge a hundredfold.
Making allies along the way wouldn't hurt. Before facing the realms above, I need to conquer this one first.
[System Notification]
[Your relationship with Gilbert has progressed to ★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ (1/10 Stars). You can now view your relationships in the 'Confidants' section. Say 'Confidants' to access it.]
"Is he someone who can grant special effects if I improve our relationship?" Vergil asked.
[No, he isn't.]
"Please explain."
[To gain system effects such as stat boosts, synergy skills, and more, the target must either be or have the potential to become the pinnacle of their 'Path'. I will inform you of such individuals. However, it is up to you to form relationships with them. Remember: your words can either strengthen or ruin a connection.]
"Huh. What an interesting system," Vergil murmured.
Vergil walked through the doors of the Adventurers' Guild.
She looked up and smiled politely. "How can I help you?"
"I'd like to register as an adventurer."
"That'll be three gold to get your ID and start taking requests."
The moment he heard the price, Vergil felt like he'd been stabbed in the chest.
'Five coins spent, and already I'm nearly broke. This world wastes nothing.'
He handed it over, his knuckles turning white. Each coin that left felt like a strike to his chest.
"Can I get your name as well? It will be used as your identity when you visit other guilds in this kingdom."
"It's Vergil," he replied.
She nodded and disappeared into the back. A few minutes later, she returned with a card embedded with a glowing mana crystal.
---
[Adventurer's ID]
Name: Vergil
Rank: F – Adventurer
---
Seems about right. It wasn't impressive, but it would do.
"You can raise your rank by completing requests of your level or one rank higher," she explained. "Right now, you're only allowed to take on E-rank requests at most."
A safeguard, no doubt, it was prudent, but frustrating all the same.
"What requests are available right now?" he asked.
"The only subjugation request currently available to you is an F-rank goblin hunt in Rotroot Forest."
Vergil gave a slow nod. "I'll take it."
"Bring back proof of your hunt—those crystals, preferably."
So crystals are the proof, huh?
He turned from the reception desk, a smirk forming on his lips, flexing his fingers around the dagger. It was time to hunt some goblins.