Dev didn't run. Fleeing wasn't an option. The Level 10 World Boss was a fifty-foot wall of obsidian and magma blocking his only exit, and it had just summoned an entire army to tear him apart.
[OBJECTIVE: FLEE] the System warned.
Dev's (SPI: 39) mind, a cold, humming engine of pure analysis, rejected the advice. This wasn't a "flee" scenario. This was a target-rich environment.
He raised his [Ebonguard Initiate's Sword] and charged into the wave.
The horde—a screeching, hissing tide of magma, ash, and black rock—surged to meet him.
It was chaos. It was a zerg rush. And to Dev's new senses, it was a ballet.
His [Spatial Awareness], now amplified to an almost god-like degree by his (SPI: 39) stat, was no longer a simple radar. It was a perfect, 360-degree, slow-motion map of the entire battlefield. He could see every monster, every trajectory, every pounce and claw-swipe before it even began.
A Level 1 Ash Ghoul lunged for his throat. Dev didn't parry. He flowed, his (AGI: 11) body moving with an unnatural, fluid grace. He sidestepped the lunge, his black sword already a blur, and decapitated it in a single, silent arc.
[+5 Lesser Soul-Essence]
A Level 2 Obsidian Hound snapped at his legs. He didn't even look at it. He was already spinning, his blade swinging low, severing the creature's head.
[+10 Lesser Soul-Essence]
He was a whirlwind of blue mist and black steel. He never stopped moving. He was untouchable. He was a Level 7 (SPI)-based assassin, and this Level 0-2 trash was simply... fodder.
His Essence bar, still empty from his level-up, began to climb. [+1... +5... +1... +10...]. The pings were fast, a chorus of slaughter. He was harvesting them, his (AGI: 11) making him a phantom they couldn't touch, his (STR: 11) sword a blade they couldn't resist.
In the background, the "fool" World Boss simply roared, dumbly, urging its useless army forward, not understanding why this single, tiny target was methodically dismantling its horde.
In less than a minute, the battlefield was littered with dissolving bodies. Only the two Level 3 "Lava Hulks" remained.
The ten-foot-tall golems, miniature versions of the boss, charged him from both sides. This was a real threat.
The first Hulk swung a massive, magma-fist. Dev's (SPI: 39) mind saw the attack, analyzed its pathetic (AGI), and predicted its landing point. He dashed, not away, but toward the second Hulk, the first one's punch missing him by a foot and shattering the obsidian ground where he'd been.
The second Hulk, confused by his sudden appearance, tried to grab him.
Dev spun, his sword flashing, and severed the Hulk's arm at the elbow. The monster roared in pain. Dev didn't stop. He used the monster's own body as a springboard, running up its chest and plunging his sword deep into its glowing magma-eye, shattering its core.
[+150 Lesser Soul-Essence]
The first Hulk, seeing its partner die, charged again. Dev, his back still to the monster, knew. His [Spatial Awareness] was perfect. He leaped backward, flipping over the Hulk's charging shoulder, and as he landed, he buried his sword hilt-deep into the back of its neck.
[+150 Lesser Soul-Essence]
The entire summoned army was dead. It had taken less than ninety seconds.
A sudden, deafening silence fell over the basin, broken only by the sizzle of magma and the low, confused, furious growl of the Tartarian Devourer.
It had watched its entire "Bond" army, its ultimate power, get erased by this... insect.
It finally stopped being a "foolish" commander. It became an attacker.
It raised a fist the size of a car and slammed it down. This wasn't a punch. This was an earthquake.
Dev was already moving. He had seen the tensing of the Boss's muscles. He leaped, his (AGI: 11) pushing him to his limit, as the ground where he had been standing exploded into a crater of shattered rock and magma shrapnel.
The Boss didn't let up. It opened its massive, fanged maw and inhaled, sucking in the sulfurous air, its magma core glowing white-hot. It exhaled a tidal wave of molten lava, a 30-foot-wide river of pure, liquid fire that tore across the battlefield.
Dev ran, his (AGI) pushed to the absolute maximum. He was fast, but the area of effect was massive. He couldn't escape it all.
The edge of the wave clipped him.
It was an agony he had never known. The heat was so intense it vaporized the blue mist of his soul-form, scorching his very essence. His (CON: 10) was utterly, laughably useless against this level of power.
[WARNING: SOUL-FORM INTEGRITY AT 65%]
He tumbled, rolling across the sharp obsidian, his left arm and side burning, his blue mist flickering wildly, trying to repair the catastrophic damage.
The Devourer roared, a sound of triumph. It saw the injury. It saw the "insect" faltering.
It did the only thing it knew how to do. It raised its fists to slam the ground, to summon another army. It was going to use its "Bond" ability again.
This was the "fool's" final mistake.
The moment the Boss activated the ability, Dev felt it.
It wasn't a physical attack. It was a mental one. A massive, world-spanning projection of (SPI) energy, a "command" to the planet to "give me more slaves."
And it was hostile.
The world went silent. The pain in Dev's arm vanished.
His EX-Rank Trait, "Hunger for Strength," ignited.
The (SPI) energy the Boss was projecting—this "Bond" power—wasn't a threat to Dev. It was food.
His (SPI: 39) and (RES: 33) skyrocketed, his own "Hunger" trait latching onto the stream of (SPI) energy flowing from the Boss. He wasn't just resisting the summons. He was devouring it.
And in that instant, he saw it.
The flaw. The "fool's" secret.
The "Bond" ability wasn't coming from the Boss's brain. The monster was dumb, a beast of (STR) and (CON). The power was coming from a thing inside its chest—a massive, raw, pulsing, unrefined crystal of pure (SPI) energy, a battery that it was plugged into.
It wasn't a wielder of power. It was just a vessel.
The Boss roared in confusion, its summons failing. It could feel its (SPI) energy, its "Bond" power, being drained, siphoned away by the tiny insect it had almost killed. It was panicked.
Dev, his soul-form burning, his mind locked in a "tug-of-war" for the Boss's own power, knew he had one chance. This was it. Every ounce of his energy.
The Devourer, in its panic, swung its massive arm, a desperate, clumsy, horizontal sweep to wipe Dev off the map.
Dev ran toward it.
He used his (AGI: 11), his (STR: 11). He ran up the arm as it swung past, a tiny, blue-misted figure on a mountain of moving rock. He ran up its shoulder, the magma-heat scorching him. The Boss roared, trying to grab him, its other hand a giant claw.
Dev leaped.
He put every ounce of his (STR: 11) into his legs, leaping from the Boss's shoulder into the air, directly over the massive, glowing, furnace-like cavity in its chest.
He saw the core. The battery.
He raised his [Ebonguard Initiate's Sword] high over his head, holding it like a spike.
And he fell.
He plunged, (SPI: 39)-guided, straight into the core.
He didn't just stab it. He unleashed his "Hunger for Strength" directly into the battery. He wasn't just breaking the crystal. He was devouring its very essence in a catastrophic, uncontrolled feast.
A silent, psychic scream erupted from the Boss, a shockwave of pure, unfiltered (SPI) energy. The monster's dozens of red eyes went wide with terror.
Then, they went dark.
The magma rivers flowing through its body turned black. The glow in its core died.
The Tartarian Devourer, the Level 10 World Boss, froze. And then, like a mountain in an earthquake, it began to crumble, a colossal, fifty-foot statue of cooling obsidian, collapsing in on itself.
Dev was thrown clear, his body slamming onto the ground. He was exhausted. His soul-form was at [INTEGRITY: 20%], flickering, on the verge of collapse.
He had given every ounce.
And then... the System exploded.
[KILL CONFIRMED: LEVEL 10 WORLD BOSS 'TARTARIAN DEVOURER']
[S-RANK VICTORY (SOLO) ACHIEVED. CALCULATING REWARDS...]
[MASSIVE SOUL-ESSENCE ACQUIRED: +5,000]
[SOUL-ESSENCE THRESHOLD MET. LEVEL UP!]
[LEVEL: 7 -> 8]
[SOUL-ESSENCE THRESHOLD MET. LEVEL UP!]
[LEVEL: 8 -> 9]
[SOUL-ESSENCE THRESHOLD MET. LEVEL UP!]
[LEVEL: 9 -> 10]
[HOST STATUS: UPDATED]
[Name: Dev]
[Level: 10]
[Faction: Ebonguard (Initiate)]
[Title: 'Indomitable']
[Sync Rate: 10.0%]
[STR: 11] [CON: 10]
[AGI: 11] [SPI: 39]
[RES: 33]
[Available Stat Points: 30]
[Nexus Shards: 14]
[Lesser Soul-Essence: 1,800/1000]
He was Level 10. His Sync Rate was 10%. But it wasn't over.
[...EX-RANK TRAIT 'HUNGER FOR STRENGTH' HAS SUCCESSFULLY ABSORBED HOSTILE 'BOND' ABILITY (LV. 1)]
[...HOSTILE ABILITY 'BOND' IS 'FOOLISH', 'UNREFINED', 'CHAOTIC'.]
[...ANALYZING... REFINING... EVOLVING TRAIT...]
[...EVOLUTION COMPLETE...]
[NEW SYSTEM SKILL (EX-RANK) ACQUIRED: 'ETERNAL BOND']
A new interface, one that was not the cold blue of the Nexus, but a deep, royal black and gold, opened in his mind. It felt... personal. It felt like his.
[ETERNAL BOND (LV. 1) UNLOCKED]
[THIS IS YOUR SYSTEM. THIS IS YOUR LEGION.]
[ABILITY 1: SOUL SPACE (TIER 1) CREATED.]
(A 4-DIMENSIONAL SPACE, 'INFINITE' TO 3D OBJECTS. YOUR PERSONAL ARMORY AND PRISON.)
[ABILITY 2: PATH OF THE SLAVE (UNLOCKED)]
(Defeated souls can be 'Enslaved'. They become your 'pure slave', their consciousness erased, their stats and abilities added to your 'Soul Space' for you to command.)
[ABILITY 3: PATH OF THE PARTNER (LOCKED)]
(A willing soul may 'Partner' with you, retaining their consciousness. They will be bonded, able to use a fraction of your power, and you 100% of theirs. Ranking is based on this Bond.)
Dev lay on the black, shattered obsidian, his soul-form healing. He looked at the new, black-and-gold interface.
Then, he looked around the battlefield. The souls of the "fool's army"—the Ghouls, the Hounds, the Hulks—were still there, fading, dissolving into the air.
A new prompt appeared from his new system.
[...FADING SOULS (34) DETECTED...]
[...DO YOU WISH TO 'ENSLAVE'? Y/N]
Dev, the new Level 10 Initiate, looked at the prompt.
He smiled. This changed everything.