The golden light of the Hall of Sovereigns remained undisturbed. To the top one hundred avatars in the room, only a fraction of a second had passed since Ren was enveloped in crimson light. But the atmosphere had irrevocably changed. Ren Hanshin stood near the skewering marble pillars, his posture calm and relaxed. His eyes were different. Before, he had looked like a cornered wolf ready to snap. Now, after his trembling audience with the God of Fate, his gaze was an endless, unreadable abyss.
He didn't just have a cheat system anymore. He had a cosmic mandate. "Hey. Anomaly."
A voice like grinding boulders echoed behind him. Ren turned slowly. Standing ten feet away, there was a mountain of a man. He wore red platinum armor that seemed to absorb the starlight from the ceiling. A large greatsword was strapped to his back, sulking with a thirst for violence.
The blue system screen generated the man's profile above his head.
[Name: Gideon]
[Class: Warlord of the Vanguard (Legendary)]
[Level: 85]
[Sponsor: The God of War]
Flanking Gideon was a second avatar. He was tall, slender, and wrapped in grey bandages and a dark cloak. He emitted zero sound, and his feet didn't seem to touch the polished marble floor.
[Name: Silas]
[Class: Shadow Walker (Legendary)]
[Level: 82]
[Sponsor: The God of Death]
The scary hitters had arrived. These were the true chosen monsters who had spent decades conquering S-Rank dungeons while Ren was still carrying bags for the Azure Dragon Guild.
"You're the Weaver's new pet," Gideon wheezed, crossing his massive, armored arms. His voice carried across the silent hall, drawing the eyes of every avatar present. "I expected a demon. A giant. But you're just a scrawny kid wearing a fancy coat."
Ren didn't respond. He just looked at Gideon's shoulders, reading the tension in the Warlord's muscles. Jubei's training took over. Gideon was overwhelmingly strong, but his center of gravity was tilted forward. He was aggressive, but predictable.
THUD!
"Not going to speak?" Gideon took a heavy step forward. "My Lord watched you cut Kaelen in half. Kaelen was an arrogant fool who relied too much on his magic, but he was still a Chosen. You embarrassed the Pantheon."
Gideon's eyes narrowed, and his terrifying aura burst outward. Physical combat was banned in the Neutral Zone, but Aura Domination was not a restriction. A wave of suffocating pressure, smelling of blood, iron, and rotting battlefields crashed onto Ren. It was designed to force weaker hunters to their knees, shattering their willpower before a sword was ever drawn.
Several Avatars standing nearby gasped and stumbled backward, unable to breathe under the Warlord's sheer pressure. Ren just stood there, his 1,000 Mana Core sat perfectly still. The Embrace of the Weaver didn't even flare up to protect him. Ren simply let the pressure wash over him like a warm breeze.
"Is there a draft in here?" Ren asked softly, his voice echoing in the silent hall.
Gideon's arrogant smirk froze, petrified. The veins on his neck bulged. An A-Rank should have been coughing up blood from that aura, but Ren hadn't even blinked.
Silas, the Avatar of Death, tilted his bandaged head. "He is suppressing his true core," Silas rasped, his voice sounding like dry leaves. "Do not be fooled by his lack of mana, Gideon. He has killed assassins. He knows how to hide."
"I don't care what he hides," Gideon growled, taking another step, invading Ren's personal space. He reached out a massive, armored hand, aiming to grab Ren's shoulder. "Listen to me, rat. When the Draft begins..."
Ren moved. He simply stepped forward, slipping effortlessly under Gideon's reaching arm, sliding into the Warlord's blind spot. It was a precise usage of Jubei's 'Flow'.
Before Gideon could even register that his hand had grasped empty air, Ren was standing right beside him, calmly positioned to strike the massive man's exposed neck. The entire hall held its breath.
Gideon froze, a cold sweat breaking out beneath his armor. The kid hadn't just dodged him, he had evaded a Level 85 veteran's guard as easily as walking through an open door.
"Combat is prohibited here," Ren whispered smoothly, standing shoulder to shoulder with the giant. "But if you touch me again, Gideon, I will consider it a threat, and I don't care if the system obliterates my soul. I'll take your head with me."
The crimson screen vehemently sparked to life in front of Ren's face.
[The God of Fate is screaming in pure delight!]
[God of Fate]: YES! Tell the filthy dog his place! Make him tremble!
[God of Fate]: If he moves a single muscle, Ren, split his spine in half. I will block the system's penalty. I will protect you.
Gideon slowly lowered his arm. He didn't turn his head to look at Ren. For the first time in his long, bloody career, the Warlord felt a genuine, instinctual fear of a lower level hunter.
"You're a madman," Gideon muttered.
"I'm worse," Ren replied coldly. "I'm the anomaly."
High above them, the galactic ceiling rumbled. A thundering, golden voice echoed through the Hall of Sovereigns.
"The Banquet concludes." The voice belonged to the God of Light. It was neutral, devoid of the hatred the God of Magic had shown. "Avatars. Return to your mortal realms. In exactly sixty days, the Sovereign's Draft will commence in the Savage Lands. Prepare your weapons. Prepare your souls."
The golden tables began to vanish into starlight.
Silas, the Avatar of Death, took a step back, the shadows already swallowing his feet. He looked at Ren one last time. "Sixty days, Ren Hanshin. The shadows will be waiting for you."
"Tell them to bring body bags," Ren said.
Pillars of blue light began to crash down from the ceiling, swallowing the top avatars one by one and teleporting them back to Earth. Gideon vanished. Silas vanished. Ren stood alone as the final pillar of light descended toward him.
Before the light consumed him, he felt a sudden, freezing cold sensation on his left hand. He looked down. Wrapped tightly around his pinky finger, there was a single, shining crimson thread. It trailed upward, disappearing into the vast, starry ceiling of the divine realm. It was a manifestation of his contract. A physical tether binding his soul to hers.
[God of Fate]: Sixty days, my love.
[God of Fate]: Grow your fangs. Sharpen your claws. I will be watching every single second.
Ren closed his eyes. The blue light crashed over him.
****
The Real World - Okutama Mountains, Tokyo.
The air was crisp and smelled of rain. Ren's boots hit the muddy ground of the ruined Shinto shrine. He hadn't returned to his Roppongi penthouse. He had commanded the system to teleport him back to his training grounds. He had sixty days.
If he went back to the luxury of his penthouse, he would grow soft. He would rely on his millions of Karma Points to buy elixirs and cheat items. But Jubei had taught him that relying on the system was a crutch that higher level Avatars would easily break.
Sitting on the wooden porch of the shrine, Jubei was calmly drinking tea from a chipped ceramic cup. The blind old man didn't look surprised to see Ren suddenly form in the courtyard.
"The Banquet is over?" Jubei asked, his gravelly voice calm.
"It's a war," Ren said, walking toward the porch. "Sixty days until the Sovereign's Draft. They are sending the high level chosen warriors to hunt me."
Jubei took a slow sip of his tea. "You evaded the Warlord's guard. I felt the ripple in your mana. You used the Flow perfectly."
"It was a trick," Ren admitted, sitting down on the wooden steps. "I bluffed him. If Gideon had swung his greatsword with intent to kill, I wouldn't have been able to cut through his aura defense, even with the Mythic scythe. The level gap is too massive. My stats are broken, but my raw output is too low."
Ren looked at his hands. "Master. I need to level up. But I can't waste time running low level dungeons, and I can't rely on my Goddess to just give me power."
Jubei smiled slightly. He set his teacup down. "The system is an illusion, boy. Levels are an illusion," Jubei said. "They are just numbers assigned by the gods to make mortals feel like they are progressing. The true measure of power in this universe is not Level, but 'Domain'."
Ren frowned. "Domain?"
"The S-Rank Ring you wear creates a Domain of Silence," Jubei explained. "The S-Rank Labyrinth was a Domain of Magic. A Domain is when a warrior forces their internal willpower onto the external reality. The Avatars of War and Death possess passive Domains. When you fight them, you are not just fighting their swords; you are fighting the air around them."
Jubei picked up his wooden bokken. "You have an A-Rank Mana Core, overflowing with raw, unrefined divine energy. But you keep it locked inside your body like a battery. If you want to kill a high level chosen, you must learn to expand your core. You must create your own Domain."
Ren stood up. The crimson chat box hovered silently at the edge of his vision, the Goddess watching intently, unusually quiet. She was listening.
"How?" Ren asked.
Jubei pointed the wooden sword toward the treacherous forest behind the shrine.
"By dying," Jubei said simply. "Behind this shrine lies the Aokigahara Rift. It is an unmapped, unregulated S-Rank anomaly zone. The Association ignores it because the monsters inside do not leave the forest. They are ancient, territorial, and insane."
Jubei stood up, his sightless eyes facing the dark tree line. "For the next two months, you will not sleep in a bed. You will not eat cooked food. You will walk into that rift, and you will not come out until you can project your killing intent so harshly that the forest itself bows to your will."
Ren looked at the dark, twisted trees in the distance. The atmospheric mana bleeding from the forest was suffocating, and smelled like rotting wood and ancient blood. It was a literal death trap.
[The God of Fate is gripping the arms of her throne.]
[God of Fate]: It is too dangerous. An unregulated S-Rank rift is unstable. The spatial laws are broken there. If you get trapped, I might not be able to pull you out immediately.
[God of Fate]: Do not do this, Ren. Just buy the 'Time Chamber' from the Constellation Shop. I will pay for it. I will pay for everything.
Ren stared at the red text. He reached up and placed his hand over the crimson brand on his chest.
"If I stay in the cage, I will always be a pet," Ren whispered, low enough so Jubei couldn't hear. "I told you I would win the draft. Let me win it my way."
The red text shook, fighting an internal war between her obsessive need to keep him safe, and her psychotic adoration of his anomaly nature. Finally, a new message appeared.
[God of Fate]: ...Fine.
[God of Fate]: But I will watch every single breath you take. If your heart stops for even a second, I will tear that forest from the face of the Earth.
Ren dismissed the screen. He turned to Jubei and bowed deeply. "I'll see you in sixty days, Master."
Ren turned his back on the safety of the shrine. He summoned the Severance of Destiny, the massive crimson scythe casting a bloody glow against the encroaching shadows of the rift. He walked calmly into the darkness of the unmapped S-Rank zone. The preparation for the Sovereign's Draft had begun.