Mark reflected on his progress. Rising from Rank E to B- in just fifteen months was an unheard-of feat—likely a world record. However, he knew the hidden truth: this rapid growth was anchored in the legacy of Thaddeus von Lightborn, whose mana had once peaked at B-. Following Thaddeus's fall into disability and his eventual suicide, the soul of Mark Miller arrived, merging with Thaddeus's very essence. Because of this foundation, Mark's subsequent rise in mana rank had been remarkably smooth
But the era of easy gains was over. Mark could now feel the ceiling of his potential. Every Inner World user can instinctively sense their mana limit, yet few ever reach 100% of it. Most plateau at 80% or 90%, where further progress becomes so agonizingly slow that they mistake it for their absolute end. For Mark, that final threshold was Rank A+. While A+ is among the world's elite, it was the definitive boundary for his mana.
Standard mana ranks range from E to A, with each further subdivided into three tiers (e.g., A-, A, A+). These ranks are primarily measured against Monster Cores, which are categorized based on the precise volume of mana they can contain. A mage's mana rank is determined by comparing their capacity to these cores. At the absolute bottom, Ranks F and G also exist, though the difference in mana volume within their cores is so negligible that such subdivisions are considered unnecessary. Since a mana rank only measures volume and density, it does not always dictate the ultimate winner of a battle
"In this world, despite the existence of two energy types—Mana and Ki—monsters and their cores are almost exclusively composed of Mana. Creatures capable of wielding Ki are the stuff of legends. When the System evaluates a monster, a grade like 'Mana: D' refers strictly to the capacity of its Monster Core.
You could think of the Monster Core as a pool of 'General Statistics.' The same amount of mana is distributed differently depending on the species. Take a D-Rank Goblin Shaman, Goblin Champion, and Goblin Lord, for example. All three possess a D-Rank core, yet their strengths vary wildly: the Champion pours that energy into Physical Power, the Shaman into Magic Casting, and the Lord into Intelligence and Leadership. It's as if their total mana points were manually allocated into different stat branches
Then, there is Rank S. Whether among the sapient races or the monsters, very few have ever managed to shatter the A+ barrier. In the novel Great Hero, only two beings among the 'people'—which officially includes humans, elves, dwarves, demi-humans, and demons—truly ascended to Rank S: the protagonist Colin and the Demon King. Before them, it was common knowledge that Rank A+ was the absolute pinnacle for all sapient species. Rank S was historically reserved for legendary monsters. Even Dragons, considered the apex of existence, mostly sit at A+, with only a literal few reaching S. Among the rare creatures with the potential to breach that divine threshold was the Hydra
Mark was at a complete loss. He understood that from this point forward, his mana growth would stagnate, likely trapping him at Rank A-. Reaching Rank A+ would undoubtedly be an agonizingly long and arduous journey. But the Hydra... that was a different story entirely. After observing it for a while, he noticed its physical development; the beast hadn't even reached full maturity yet, meaning it still had room to grow. That filth could reach Rank A+ simply by feeding, with the looming threat of eventually ascending to Rank S.
The beast was outgrowing Mark with each passing day. If he truly intended to kill it, he had to act before it crossed the threshold from A- to Rank A. This gave him a window of three to six months at most. Once the creature reached Rank A, its regeneration and venom would ascend to an entirely different level. At Rank A+, it would become an insurmountable wall; at that stage, regrowing a severed head in the heat of battle wouldn't just be a legend—it would be a reality. Even now, at Rank B-, killing a Rank A creature was borderline impossible.
Worst of all, monsters at Rank A or A+ begin to develop significant intelligence. While they might not become tactical geniuses or capable of speech, they must be treated as conscious opponents. They become capable of using cunning tactics, easily sensing traps, and—most dangerously—observing and analyzing their enemies in real-time, allowing them to learn from their own mistakes.
Through careful observation, Mark gathered crucial intel. The Hydra was inexperienced in true combat; it had likely never faced an opponent capable of posing a real threat, and its intelligence had not yet fully awakened. The fact that Mark could approach it multiple times without being detected proved that its senses were dull. Furthermore, he noticed the beast never left its territory. Once, a Shadow Panther wandered into the Hydra's domain. The Hydra lunged, intent on making it lunch, but the panther managed to flee. Surprisingly, the Hydra only gave chase until the boundary of its territory.
This was a double-edged sword. On the bright side, Mark had a guaranteed escape route if the battle took a turn for the worse. On the downside, his original plan to lure the beast out of its soggy, unstable territory was officially dead in the water. Mark had a new plan now—one with a real chance of success—but it demanded the mastery of specialized new spells and extensive preparations. More importantly, if he truly wanted to claim victory, he had to bet everything. Including his life. If this plan failed to kill the Hydra, Mark would be sentenced to a certain death.
It was at that moment that the part of him he despised most—the voice of cowardice he always tried to outrun—began to whisper in his ear. 'Rank B- is already more than enough for a comfortable life,' it hissed. 'By the time you leave this dungeon, you could easily reach Rank B or B+. Why risk your life? The Hydra won't leave its territory. You can hunt freely in other parts of the second floor; there's plenty of meat and spices. Why gamble it all away? For the third floor? What will that even give you? Do you even know what's waiting down there? What do you truly gain by killing the Hydra? More meat? Are you even sure Hydra meat is edible? An A- Rank Monster Core? A tempting prize, surely, but is it worth dying for?
Despite the constant whirlpool of these thoughts, Mark didn't slacken his training or preparations. He remained focused, scrutinizing his plan for flaws or potential refinements. Yet, the same question haunted him: Why? Why was he truly pushing himself to this limit? Why risk his life?
When he first awakened in Thaddeus's body, his drive was born from the terror of a meaningless, fragile existence. He wanted a life of dignity. Even with a limp and failing sight, his current rank already met the standards for a comfortable life. So what was missing?
Was it for power? Strength was useful, certainly, but it had never been Mark's ultimate goal. He had no intention of wasting his life as a mere seeker of might. Immortality? Godhood? This world was neither Murim nor Xianxia; there was no path to divinity here. Mark didn't crave death, yet he knew that like all things, an endless life would eventually turn into a torment. Having died once as Mark, and having ruined his life as Thaddeus only to commit suicide—now granted a second chance and dancing with death daily in the dungeon—his goal was simpler: to live and die without regret, before the very act of living turned into poison. What would he even do as a god? How long before the boredom of watching mortals became unbearable? Would he eventually resort to reading novels to pass the time? If so, how would he be any different from an otaku?
He remembered his father, Thomas Miller, a devout Catholic. Though Mark was an atheist, they agreed on one thing: a human could never be a god. It wasn't about power or eternity, but the human psyche. A human soul is restless—craving war in times of peace, and yearning for peace in the midst of war. It lacked the immutable nature of a deity.
To defy fate? Mark never complained about his lot. One doesn't choose how they are born, but one is responsible for their own choices. He felt a flicker of rage for Thaddeus, feeling as though the world had sacrificed him for the 'Great Hero' Colin, but he knew Thaddeus's fall was his own doing. One simply had to live and fight—until they met the thing that would eventually kill them.
Romance? A harem? It was a joke. Mark was sterile, and he doubted he was even capable of giving his heart to a woman anymore. Besides, he was currently condemned to solitude within the dungeon; speaking of such things before escaping was pointless. As for being a hero... he didn't mind helping others, but he had no desire to sacrifice himself for the sake of a title. The thrill of battle? Victory was sweet, but the act of killing—even a monster—could never be called pleasant. Perhaps that was the closest answer, yet it remained incomplete. The question still haunted him: Why?"