The elevator doors slid open to the ground floor lobby of the Azure Dragon Guild. Ren Hanshin stepped out, his face looked like a dull mask. The terrified staff parted for him like sheep fleeing a wolf. He walked out the sliding glass doors and onto the cold, rain slicked streets of Shinjuku.
He made it two blocks before his legs gave out. Ren ducked into a narrow, empty alleyway and collapsed against the damp brick wall. He clutched his chest, a tearing cough ripping through his throat. He spat onto the wet asphalt. It was bright red blood.
The blue holographic system screen abruptly popped up, flashing with yellow warning signs.
[Warning: Host's physical vessel is sustaining internal damage.]
[Cause: Over channeling Divine Aura.]
[Mana Core stability is fluctuating.]
Ren wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his breathing ragged. Up in Kaito's office, he looked like an untouchable god. But it had been a desperate bluff. Kaito was a Level 80 S-Rank Berserker. Ren was a Level 50 A-Rank. If Kaito had overcome his psychological terror and swung his broadsword, Ren's Embrace of the Weaver coat would have absorbed the first hit, but the sheer shockwave would have shattered Ren's ribs.
He had forced his A-Rank mana channels to act as an emitter for the God of Fate's suffocating aura, tricking Kaito into thinking Ren possessed S-Rank power.
It worked, but the side effect of channeling a Sovereign's pure killing intent through a mortal body was tearing his muscles apart from the inside.
The alleyway suddenly flashed a panicked crimson.
[The God of Fate is screaming in terror!]
[God of Fate]: Ren! You are bleeding! Why are you bleeding?!
[God of Fate]: I will heal you! I will send down an elixir right now! Hold on, my love!
[The God of Fate is attempting to manifest a Mythic tier healing item...]
"No!" Ren gasped, leaning against the brick wall. "System... reject the donation. Block the delivery."
[System Notice: The Host has rejected the Constellation's gift.]
The red text froze for a fraction of a second, before reverberating with confused, frantic energy.
[God of Fate]: Why?! You are hurt! Let me fix you! Let me take the pain away!
"Because my body needs to adapt," Ren gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand up straight. He glared at the invisible camera hovering in the rain. "If you pump me full of divine elixirs every time I take a hit, my mortality will crumble. I'm a glass cannon right now. My stats are high, but my body hasn't earned them."
Ren opened his status window, staring at his 800 Mana. Using the Severance of Destiny to cut the S-Rank Death Knight had been easy because it was a standard swing. But the Thread of the Guillotine, the attack he used to cleave the S-Rank Labyrinth Colossus had drained 700 mana in a single second. It had nearly emptied his core.
If he missed a swing like that against a fast, high level human opponent, he would be defenseless. A weapon that cuts through reality is useless if the wielder doesn't have the martial arts experience to land the hit. He had to learn how to actually fight. He couldn't rely on one shot cheats forever.
[The God of Fate is biting her lip in frustration.]
[God of Fate]: You are too stubborn. You do not need to struggle. You just need to hide behind me.
[God of Fate]: But... I suppose a King must build his own throne. Fine. But if your health drops below 10%, I am intervening, whether you like it or not.
Ren let out a slow breath. He closed the interface and stepped back out onto the main street, pulling the collar of his dark shirt up against the rain.
"Going somewhere, Mr. Hanshin?" The voice was normal, lacking the killing intent of an assassin, yet it made every single alarm bell in Ren's newly enhanced instincts scream.
Ren spun around. Standing beneath a black umbrella at the end of the alleyway was a tall, lean man in a beige trench coat. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers. He wore no armor, no weapons, and had no Guild insignia, but levitating faintly above his head was the shimmering silver halo of the God of Light.
"Who are you?" Ren asked, his muscles tensing. He didn't reach for his scythe.
The man took a puff of his cigarette and exhaled a thin cloud of grey smoke into the rain. "Kenjiro. Chief Inspector for the Awakened Association, and honestly, kid? I'm having a headache trying to figure out how an F-Rank porter walked out of an S-Rank Labyrinth with a new record time."
Ren's eyes narrowed. The Association's top brass. These were the people who regulated the country's hunters.
"I got lucky," Ren said.
Kenjiro chuckled, tossing his cigarette onto the wet pavement and crushing it under his boot. "Right, and Kaito just happened to accidentally misplace three of his best unregistered assassins last night. A lot of 'luck' is going around you, Ren."
The Inspector reached into his trench coat. Ren didn't wait to see what he was pulling out. His agility exploded into action. He crossed the twenty feet between them in the blink of an eye, crossing the sound barrier with a sharp crack.
CRACK!
Ren drove a devastating right hook aimed at Kenjiro's jaw. A strike with raw strength could shatter a boulder into dust, but it never connected.
Kenjiro didn't dodge. He simply shifted his weight backward by half an inch, letting Ren's fist graze past his nose. In the same motion, Kenjiro's hand shot out of his coat, and slapped Ren's extended forearm. It hit a precise, critical pressure point on Ren's radial nerve.
Ren's entire right arm went numb. The force of his own missed punch threw him off balance, and before he could recover, Kenjiro swept Ren's legs out from under him.
Ren hit the wet road hard. He immediately rolled backward, springing to his feet and creating distance. He clutched his numb arm, his crimson eyes wide with shock.
'What the hell was that?' Ren thought. 'Kenjiro hadn't used a single drop of mana. He hadn't used any skill. He simply used martial arts experience to dismantle my overwhelming speed and strength.'
"You're fast. Scary fast," Kenjiro noted, casually adjusting his umbrella, "and your physical strength is terrifying for your age. But your footwork is a mess. You fight like a street brawler who suddenly won the lottery."
The crimson screen flashed in front of Ren.
[The God of Fate is furious!]
[God of Fate]: HE TOUCHED YOU! HE THREW YOU IN THE DIRT!
[God of Fate]: CUT HIS HEAD OFF! USE THE SCYTHE, REN! I WILL BURN HIS SOUL TO ASH!
"No," Ren muttered, keeping his eyes on the Inspector.
He understood now. This was the difference between raw stats and real skill. Kenjiro was an S-Rank, but unlike Kaito, he wasn't relying on brute force. If Ren summoned the Severance of Destiny right now, Kenjiro wouldn't try to block it. He would just evade it, wait for Ren to exhaust his mana, and then kill him.
Ren fell into a more guarded, defensive stance.
Kenjiro raised a hand, smiling lazily. "Relax, kid. If I wanted to arrest you or kill you, I would have brought an assault team, not an umbrella."
Ren didn't lower his guard. "Then what do you want?"
"I want to offer you a warning," Kenjiro said, his smile fading into a grim line. "Kaito is a thug, but the God of Wealth backing him isn't. You publicly humiliated an elite guild. The other Sovereign Gods are starting to notice the anomaly in Tokyo."
Kenjiro pulled a sleek card from his pocket and flicked it toward Ren. Ren caught it with his left hand. Embossed in gold lettering were the words: The Sovereign's Draft.
PLIP! PLIP! PLIP!
"In two months, the Global Association is hosting the draft," Kenjiro explained, the rain drumming calmly against his umbrella. "It's a mandatory tournament for all high-ranking Avatars. The Gods use it to establish territory and eliminate rival champions. Kaelen, the mage you killed in the labyrinth? He was just a scout."
Kenjiro turned to walk away, looking over his shoulder.
"The Gods of War, Death, and Magic are going to send their true chosen to that tournament, Ren. Level 80 and 90 monsters who have spent decades mastering their divine powers. Your little parlor tricks and raw stats won't save you against them."
The Inspector stepped out of the alleyway, merging into the crowded sidewalk. "Learn how to fight, kid, before they mount your head on a spike."
Ren stood alone in the rain, staring at the black card in his hand. The illusion of his invincibility was gone. He had a Mythic weapon and an obsessive goddess, but in the grand scheme of the cosmic war, he was still just a beginner.
[The God of Fate is glaring at the card in your hand.]
[God of Fate]: Do not listen to him. You do not need to train like a mortal. I will just give you more power.
"I need a teacher," Ren interrupted, crushing the black card in his fist. "I need to learn how to use the stats you gave me. If I enter that tournament swinging wildly, I'll be ripped apart."
The chat box hesitated, the red text blinking slowly. She hated the idea of him needing anyone else, but her obsession with his survival overrode her jealousy.
[God of Fate]: ...Fine.
[God of Fate]: I will find you a teacher. But it will be someone I choose. Someone who knows their place.
[God of Fate]: Go home, Ren. Rest your broken vessels. Tomorrow, your real hell begins.