Death was in the air. A conflict raged over a vast, previously barren wasteland, once a buffer between two great powers.

This massive scar ran across the continent named merely the Divide neared 100 kilometers in width, cutting the continent of Azur into two halves.

It was a decidedly unnatural landscape, though also quite natural in a world where gods could move mountains during flights of fancy.

Of course, large-scale alterations to the map like the Divide are few and far between, but even small-scale divine interventions leave a deep mark on the local environment.

Unlike the Divide, however, these are generally positive for the people.

Rarely do gods get angry enough to bestow curses themselves, viewing such an act beneath their dignity.

Nevertheless, the fallout of these once-in-a-century events are things people have to live with.

Divine power was not cheap, and gods hoarded as much of it as they could, spending little if they can get away with it. With the fickle nature of mortals, however, most gods needed to prove their existence every few centuries, lest they become forgotten or replaced.

They, unlike the primordial ones, require faith to sustain themselves.

It is strange, then, that the Divide, in all its grandeur, remains an unclaimed geological feature.

Claiming to create the Divide would greatly boost the prestige and, subsequently, the faith of any god, but none have chosen to do so. Even if the Divide carried with it a negative image, a positive reputation was not something every deity sought.

Whether this was due to divine politics or a sense of wariness towards the landform was unknown, save for perhaps the gods themselves.

Therefore, the Divide’s past has been lost to history, and, to the people of this continent, has always been there. Its existence predates even the Heavenbound Theocracy to the west and Soul King Confederacy to the east, the hegemons of their respective halves.

For all intents and purposes, with the Divide present, the two halves might as well be separate continents, for all the contact they have with one another.

The only thing that could be called interaction, save the occasional coastal skirmish, would be the underground black market that ran between them.

No aboveboard trade occurs due to the attitude of begrudging acceptance the two have for one another, leaving any exchange of goods between them in hands of adventurous smugglers and the like.

This, in all, was a mere trickle of their respective outputs, nothing substantial, as neither side was willing to see the other get stronger even at the expense of mutual growth.

Consequently, maps found on both sides typically end at the border of the Divide, rarely acknowledging the other party. Most civilians don’t even realize the presence of another superpower on the other side of the Divide. At least, they didn’t until now.

This aversion and mutual non-interaction was the result of millennia of isolated development. The cost of fielding an invasion over this craggy, inhospitable divide was too much for even the two great superpowers to stomach.

Perhaps a few scattered bands of adventurers can make the trip into the desert worthwhile by collecting rare plants and hunting the monsters native to it, but a large-scale mobilization was simply not feasible.

While a wide array of wildlife exists here, they are spread out and have a strength completely incomparable to the average conscript, making hunting utterly unsustainable for a marching army.

The plants are generally inedible to the general public while the beasts also possess deep stores of knowledge, accumulated over the centuries.

These beasts, possessing superhuman intelligence, are able to take full advantage of the environment, making slaying them an endeavor only accomplished by the most dedicated hunters prepared to do so. This kind of specialized preparation is, of course, a costly thing for an army to field in bulk.

Therefore, sustaining massive amounts of troops and maintaining logistics across the desert was no easy feat. Not even magic was able to alleviate the issue easily. Something about the place seemed to just drain the effectiveness of magic, reducing its efficiency and effect by magnitudes.

With such a buffer, an offensive war was heavily disfavourable.

As such, they both developed independently over time, conquering and visualizing the neighbors on their respective sides of the continent. Neither side’s strength was ever quite high enough to pose a serious threat to the other.

This was not all conjecture, as the hostility of the Divide had been tested numerous times.

With nowhere left to expand, numerous warmongers from both sides have rallied their armies in the past, citing perceived slights by the other party, though all initiatives thus far have failed. These massive campaigns often occur with centuries between them, with the lessons learned from the past long forgotten.

And what a costly mistake it was to repeat again and again, the cost of each lesson paid for in thousands upon thousands of lives. The environment was not something that could be conquered easily, not even by the mightiest [Soul King] or [Divine General].

This stalemate allowed for a tenuous peace between the two sides.

However, that was then, and this was now.

Some ten-odd years ago, a brilliant-red comet was spotted in the skies above the Heavenbound Theocracy, hurtling toward the earth. Its original trajectory would have landed it square in the Theocracy’s capital, desecrating the grandest cathedral in the continent. However, how could their divine patron just allow this to happen?

Othos, the High-God of Blood, took notice of this extraterrestrial object immediately.

With his divine intervention, this otherworldly object, along with its cargo, would eventually land far beyond civilization’s touch, in the middle of the Divide.

That it failed to land in a populated area would be considered a blessing, though sentiments would undoubtedly change later with its strategic value unearthed.

Knowing no sense of propriety, the petty Godling, Emperor Constantin would spew countless curses at his ancestors, lamenting the monopoly that could have been. A treasure trove of resources, lost, shifted away, all the while wholly disregarding the fact that millions if not more were saved in the process.

This blasphemy was done only in secret, of course, but this sentiment was shared among many, uncaring for the populace that would ultimately have to face the changes such a thing would bring head-on.

This benevolence, however, was not misplaced. A god’s vision was always far-sighted compared to those that dwelled on earth, who constantly pursued petty profits. They foresaw the devastation that the comet would bring, and as such, decided on behalf of their dependents.

And indeed, ground zero of the impact now dubbed the Blasted Heath was completely terraformed by the comet.

This change was not simply overturning the earth and creating a crater, as a meteoric impact might generally achieve.

No, it was far more sinister. Had it been only a physical impact the comet would not have garnered as much attention. Celestial objects, though rare and valuable, would not spark contient-scale wars.

Even the barren land that was thought to be unchanging was able to be tainted by the comet, so what kind of change would be brought about by it falling into a place that didn’t suppress magic?

That would be a question that should have been in the minds of those in the Heavenbound Theocracy, but they let greed blind them to the truth.

What was once an inhospitable wasteland save for a few gargantuan monstrosities became even more unlivable if such a thing were even possible.

Had it landed in the heart of the empire as was initially intended, the consequences would have been far direr.

Even far away from the impact, outside of the Divide, its influence could be seen.

Periodically, border cities could see a pulse of stunning red light. Some would be drawn to the light show, not understanding the dangered within. Those that left their villages would never return, assumed to have fallen prey to the environment or monsters within. In reality, most would fall prey to the comet itself.

This light, radiating from the comet, showered all those nearby with debilitating radiation, causing most life, organic, inorganic, or even elemental, to quickly decay and wither away, leaving only a crystallized husk behind.

Its corruption crept upon the very core of a being, damaging, twisting, and corrupting their soul.

Only those that counted themselves among the most intelligent, powerful beasts in the area survived the thrum of the comet’s heart, though their reason, like their bodies, did not come out unscathed.

The strength of their mutated soul resonated with their bodies, warping them beyond recognition.

Bone and sinew bent in twisted shapes, and their flesh sprouted red crystalline tendrils, lashing out in every which way.

These abominations, nigh unkillable even prior to their mutation, became even more terrifying, boasting combat and regenerative capabilities seemingly proportional to the intelligence they sacrificed.

This, along with adopting the field of decay characteristic of the spaceborne crystal, made them a loathsome foe indeed.

It was fortunate, then, that these once intelligent beasts were driven mad by the mutation, regressing to a point where even animals would show contempt.

Territorial yet slow, their every movement was stiff and unnatural, as though every step brought with it immeasurable pain.

Some would lose their mobility completely, becoming a bloated mass of bone, crystal, and flesh stretching as far as the eye could see. A veritable ecosystem in its own right.

Their winding, mutated limbs failed to function in concert, as though every part of them had a mind of its own.

And perhaps that truly was the case, as a troubling discovery was made early into the hunts.

During a particular fight when one of these crystalline abominations was successfully cornered and suppressed, samples were taken.

The [Soul King], eager to study this new specimen, fast-tracked their precious cargo personally to their domain.

Far removed from the battlefield where the beast was suppressed, the shocked [Soul King] discovered their sample was not in fact inert. A little while after being severed, the limb would regenerate into a new monster, beginning a frenzied assault, totaling in a brutal massacre of the entire party. Unprepared, the [Soul King] was unable to rally his [Supplicant]s, dying a fool’s death.

Each [Soul King] was akin to a god walking the earth for their people, possessing the strength to lay claim to a state within their Confederacy, meaning this death did not go unnoticed for long.

The high-profile nature of his demise stoked fears early on, and the place was thus regarded as a forbidden zone, even if most sane individuals would never dare venture there of their own volition.

However, despite the danger, some intrepid independent mages, ever curious and eager to uncover the phenomenon’s true nature, continued to study it.

This desire was shared by the rulers of the surrounding lands, loath as they were to have, in their eyes, a threat that, quite literally, fell from the sky remain an unknown variable.

As such, these eccentric folk were never in want of funds and manpower, though the latter were not thrilled by the assignment.

And so it was with a mountain of corpses that their samples were collected and research was done. Tests were conducted haphazardly without any care for personnel and cost, allowing for lighting-fast breakthroughs. Through constant adjustments, a surface level understanding of the phenomenon was documented.

While they never figured out how to resolve the comet's influence, after a while into the project this was no longer the priority.

It was not due to a lack of funding or interest, but because everyone came to realize just how useful the material over truly was. And thus, a roadblock was borne. Not out of technical limitations, no. It was formed as a result of the collective interests of countless high Tier professionals from both sides.

Found almost everywhere in the vicinity of the comet, extending outwards like veins from a heart, red crystals unlike any found in the world before could be gathered from the monsters or mined from caves.

So ubiquitous to the environment it became that it could even be picked up from the ground if you ventured close enough to the comet.

With this material finding a use, the narrative surrounding the comet was thus changed - it was not a curse cast by the gods, no, it was a blessing. A blessing sent to uplift civilization.

One mage, driven mad by his studies and adamant that the crystals could speak to him, dubbed the material Soulium, as that was what it said it was.

Though the reason was not believed, the name stuck. In a sense, the name fit decently well. It was a material that resonated with people’s very souls, after all.

It was truly an all-around magical material, more potent and universal than any other.

Once stabilized, it can be used to craft armor, reinforce spells, make spellcasting focuses, and catalyze alchemical reactions.

It was truly able to be added to anything to make the result stronger and the process easier. Among higher-tiered professionals, it became so ubiquitous that the saying ‘when in doubt add a pinch of Soulium’ became common on both sides of the Divide.

Some especially daring individuals event took to imbibing it directly, though most have not taken their obsession with this material that far yet. Even if it was a miraculous strengthening agent, that it induced madness in those that came in close contact with it was not something that could be easily ignored.

Even so, Soulium was a seemingly renewable resource that only grew in number with every pulse of the comet and was far from being fully tapped, but both sides were no longer content with the status quo.

It was simply too precious to allow the other side to take advantage of. Furthermore, there was a simple way to establish a monopoly on this resource.

They each wished to have complete control of the source of this Soulium - the comet itself.

However, reaching that point would prove challenging.

As they already knew, every week, the comet would pulse, transforming everyone near it into either monstrous abominations or withered crystals.

The mutated behemoths that laid claim to the area did not take kindly to invaders, and their strength only grew as one drew closer to the Blasted Heath.

Though neither side could make a quick breakthrough, they both knew that it was only a matter of time. Knowing that the other side had similar thoughts and capabilities, conflict began.

It would be too late to decide once the comet’s defenses fell.

Neither side was willing to see the other get ahead and monopolize the mine.

Sharing was not on the table, at least not without a few battles to determine distribution rights first.

Armies from both sides were rallied, and battles were fought in the Divide.

This time, in this war, neither side had the home-field advantage.

The areas closest to the comet saw the fiercest fighting, but the battlefront stretched across the entirety of the Divide and even into the surrounding coasts.

Though the fringes saw little engagement, there were still skirmishes, with some overzealous commanders even pushing past the frontlines and into the territory of the other party. They were quickly suppressed and exterminated, of course, but that they even got so far spoke of how much this war stretched their resources.

Gone were the days when fighting over this area was unprofitable. Even if it was to the majority of people, the ones up top had a vested interest in keeping things going, and so they subsidized it, keeping the flames of war raging.

In a war without ideals or benefits with conscripts aplenty, deserters on both sides were numerous. Though they all saw brutal punishments and were quickly made examples of, morale was something that was difficult to sustain when fighting in an environment as hostile as the Divide.

Niven was one such deserter, though more as a result of circumstance than of his own will. Rather than a deserter, he was more of a casualty, likely considered dead, given the state of his post.

Orphaned from a young age with no connections or backing to speak of, Niven was quickly conscripted from the moment he became an adult and awakened the system.

Their kind was the most sought after, as they were numerous and, being classless, picked up the [Soldier] class easily.

However, Niven’s career as cannon fodder would prove to be short-lived.

Soon after entering the battlefield, his company of 200-odd people had the ill fortune to run into a [Soul King]’s [Supplicant] in the flesh, an enemy far beyond what they were suited to fight.

Something had gone horribly wrong with their intelligence, something like this was not supposed to happen without early warning, especially with their post being so far in the back.

An enemy of this caliber was not supposed to just show up where they were stationed, a place just shy of the border along the coast, and if one was spotted heading their way they were to evacuate immediately.

After all, they could not hope to even delay this kind of adversary, with the massive gulf that existed between them.

Despite the [Supplicant] being mostly an auxiliary class, the level difference alone made the fight a slaughter. Needless to say, it was a miserable defeat, if it could even be called that.

Watching his squad mates implode under the [Supplicant]’s contemptuous gaze drained all the morale Niven had coming into this war. He always had a good eye and swore that as the [Supplicant] approached he sneered at them.

They had the qualification to disdain them, however.

Around him were perfectly numerous spherical marbles that were once limbs and fortifications. Some of the corpses of his compatriots had large spherical holes in them, though most were pressed into a marble completely.

He wasn’t quite sure how he even survived, but he did. Though it wasn’t likely that it would stay that way. His left arm was gone, reduced to tiny pebbles, his legs were completely paralyzed, and as the final nail in the coffin, he was bleeding profusely in all directions.

Their post had been completely flattened, and any stores of medical supplies were likely destroyed as well.

The nearest town was also kilometers away, unreachable in his current condition.

He couldn’t even relay the movement of the [Supplicant] or the fate of his company as all methods of communication were with the captain.

At present, he was simply waiting for death, but afraid to finish himself off. Though he could feel his life slowly fading away, he stubbornly held on, even knowing that support would not come.

This precarious limbo gave him ample time to think.

To think of how it all happened, and of the things that led up to this moment.

Perhaps because he was half delirious, he mulled over the abilities showcased by that [Supplicant]. It had made quite the impression. It frightened him. Was that the kind of power that people could possess? That he could have possessed?

Sure, he knew that with the System he too could become strong like that one day, but it was another thing entirely to see that kind of power in action.

He was briefed on what to expect, yes, and saw his captain perform incredible feats of strength while trying to establish prestige, but the only instruction about confrontations like this was to run as fast as possible.

That advice would prove to be merely false hope, looking back, as their fate was sealed the moment they came into sight of the [Supplicant]. There wasn’t even a chance to think, let alone run.

One moment he was dozing off and the next moment everything went *splat*.

He was the only survivor now.

What ultimately saved him, Niven concluded, was the fact that the enemy left in a hurry, without making sure everyone was dead. It was likely a single spell that did their company in.

That [Supplicant]’s objective was obviously not to destroy his company. They just happened to cross paths, which resulted in their direct extermination.

Whether one straggler survived or not was of little consequence, both to them and to the final outcome of the war. Indeed, looking at his current situation, there was very little that could be done.

Status

Name: Niven

Title: None

Age: 15

Total Level: 9

Mana: 2

Attributes:

(Innate + Class)

Strength: 5 + 5

Constitution: 5 + 9

Dexterity: 5 + 4

Intelligence: 4

Wisdom: 3

Race: Human

Skills:

[F]Adaptive:

[F]Gain 5% Damage Reduction

[F]Quick Learner

[F]Gain 10% increased exp

Main Class: Soldier[Temporary]

Level: 9

Skills:

[E][Phalanx]:

[F]Gain 10% Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution. Each additional person within 10 meters with [Phalanx] increases this effect by 1% additively.

[E]Radius doubled

[C][Berserk]:

[F]Reduce Intelligence and Wisdom based on damage taken. Cannot go below 1 in both stats

[D]Gain 1 point of Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution each for each Intelligence and Wisdom reduced. (1 Int + 1 Wis = 2 total reduced = 2 for Str, 2 for Dex, 2 for Con)

[C]Stat gain from [Berserk] doubled

[F]Combat Sense

[F]Intuitively understand basic weaponry

General Skills:

[F]Sewing

[F]Intuitively understand how to repair basic armor when applicable

[F]Endurance

[F]Gain minor resistance to environmental effects

[E]Reading

[F]Gain increased memory

[E]Give access to [Identify] spell, drawing from System databanks. The amount of information provided is determined by your level, the target's level, and your current knowledge.

[F]Keen Vision

[F]Gain a minor increase in clarity of vision

Condition: Bleeding, Lost Limbs, Organ Failure,

He was rather excited, then, to have awakened the System. There was no grand coming-of-age ceremony or the like, but he celebrated the occasion with his friends back at the orphanage.

He didn’t know, then, that it would mean his conscription. At the time, he’d only marveled at how his progress was converted into something he could visualize, while also augmenting his abilities.

Particularly proud, was the fact that he had four general skills to his name. It was far above the average person his age, especially ones in his situation which provided him little resources to get ahead.

As an orphan, he could only imagine that this was how it felt to have a father recognize his efforts and reward him for them.

Now, the only thing he could feel when looking at his status was dread. He dreaded looking at his current condition spelled out in crystal clarity.

It was for this reason that he waited so long to see his status.

He dreaded acknowledging the writing on the wall, wishing to ignore his impending demise, as if not looking would make it not exist.

Niven wished that there was something, anything that could save him from his fate. For this, he would give anything.

Then, as if in direct response to this thought, a voice resounded within his head.

Find me, if you wish to live. Show me the perseverance, the will to survive for a little while longer. Break your limits to reach me.

Show me once again the infinite potential of the soul.

You have proven yourself to be so much more than this. You just need to show this once more.

A bright future awaits.

Just ahead.

Come.

Come.

Believe.

It called out to him. It was an ethereal, cacophonous thing, reminiscent of his inner monologue during his most ill fever dreams. It beckoned in the direction further into the Divide. It beckoned him in the direction the [Supplicant] had left in.

Normally, he knew better than to trust strange voices in his head, but he didn’t think there was much to lose.

Staying here would mean certain death. Maybe not now, but soon. An hour, two hours. He didn’t know the exact amount of time he could bleed out for. That kind of information was for the healers to study, not him.

He only knew that he was running out of time.

Maybe whatever called out to him could break this dead end.

To him, things that were capable of telepathy were far beyond his understanding. If nothing else, moving towards it gave him something to distract himself from his thoughts.

Perhaps he was delivering himself straight into the jaws of some titanic Psi-Lurker that he was warned about, but that was something he was willing to risk.

Plus, he heard that those that died in their maws did not feel any discomfort at all, their minds at peace in their final moments. It was a terrifying prospect when he first heard it, but he was not bleeding out then. He was now.

With his mind made up, he crawled forward with his single functioning arm.

With a frenzy befitting a man on his last rope, he feverishly made his way toward the source of the voice.

As he moved, the voice would continue to echo out in his mind, affirming his course.

Forward.

Forward.

With numb hands slipping against the sand, he continued to drag himself forward.

Time seemed to slow as the distance stretched farther and farther.

With time, his mind went numb as well. However, miraculously, his single-functioning limb continued on.

Forward.

Forward.

At a certain point he was unsure whether the voice compelling him forward was his possible savior or himself. His own thoughts repeating the mantra, unable to think of anything else.

Niven wasn’t sure how he was able to go so far, only that his body was still filled with energy, allowing him to continue on.

Forward.

Forward.

Finally, he reached the thing that contacted him.

His form crumpled in front of a desiccated corpse.

Even in his utterly exhausted and delirious state and the corpse in that state, he was able to recognize it as the [Supplicant] that attacked them immediately. That kind of garish clothing was unmistakable.

Its limbs dug into the sand but the body still sprawled out, ribs extending out in all directions. It was oddly harmonious, possessing a grotesque beauty bringing to mind a picture of a flower in full bloom.

In the center of the corpse’s ribs, replacing the heart, sat a grayish slime, like the pistil of a profane flower.

He could see that it was not the extent of it as well. The grayish slime poured from every orifice and wound of the corpse, burgeoning as though it could not fit itself entirely within its host. It would expand then shrink rhythmically, as though struggling to contain itself.

Was this what one of those mutated beasts he was cautioned about?

To be able to do such a thing to a [Supplicant]...

He was obviously unable to identify the goop and didn’t make the attempt for fear of somehow angering it, but it was able to sense his approach.

The repeating mantra had stopped as he caught sight of the thing. As he neared, it spoke to him once again.

What are you willing to give for life?

The help I extend to you will be determined by how much you pay.

But remember, things you value might not be very precious to me.

I’ll give you three chances to strike my fancy.

It was strange, communicating with such an inhuman thing, but he’d settle with anything at this point.

His ilk wasn’t qualified for an afterlife in Othos’ divine kingdom anyways, so what was there to lose?

However, facing this question, he was honestly stumped. What did he have that the thing would call him over for?

His mind blanked.

He defaulted to something that was driven into his mind from a young age at the orphanage.

Was this perhaps an avatar of a god? He had studied many of them, but none of them quite fit the image in front of him. However, he knew that those he recognized were not the extent of deities that oversaw the world.

“My faith. Would devoting myself to you be enough?”

An interesting offer. But sadly, I have no need for such a thing. I have tried it before, but divinity does not suit my path. Try again. You have two left.

So not a god. A monster native to the Divide, then?

Maybe it wanted to parasitize me? The way it clung to that corpse looked similar to how the hives near his village built their nests.

“Then how about I let you take over my body? It’s not much in its current state, but you could repair it right?”

Let me? Now, why would I need your permission to do such a thing?

While I indeed have a compassionate heart, you have to look at things from my perspective too, you know.

As alien as I may look, my thoughts also have a human bias as well.

However, that was close to what I had in mind. And your will to survive has impressed me.

I’ll give you a few hints.

Permissions are what I’m after, but it’s nothing physical. I do not wish to pilot a puppet, either.

Two strikes. Make the last one count.

Unwilling to just die, Niven started to become nervous. A chance at life was right in front of him, but it was quickly slipping away. decided to just give whatever the thing wanted. Since he wasn’t sure, he’ll just give everything. He did come here with nothing and his knowledge of esoteric things like magic or gods ended with stories of famous mages or religious studies.

Perhaps if he were smarter or had more knowledge he’d be able to find an answer that satisfies the thing, but he wasn’t.

At the very least, with this decision, he’ll get to live on.

“Then, how about I give everything? Surely that will be enough for you. While my life may be worthless, you called me here for a reason, right?”

With this said, Niven felt the slime smile, though he wasn’t sure how it did so. Was it the telepathic link?

A wise decision. With me as the playwright overseeing your life, you will go far indeed.

This world shall become your stage, and together, we shall enact a play to shock the heavens.

The world shall come to revolve around you, with my dear actor.

Come. Grab hold of me. Claim your destiny.

As it delivered a picturesque scene of the future that awaited him, the slime moved toward him.

He couldn’t quite come to believe those words, but he was in no position to argue.

It grew closer and closer, and Niven came to understand just how massive it truly was. Even right before him, there was still a seemingly unending mass that kept exiting the corpse.

Was a part of it underground before?

It looked like it only came out from the [Supplicant]’s chest, though.

Towering in front of him, just as he thought it would consume him entirely, the slime quickly condensed into a simple cast iron sword, identical to the one he was issued.

However, the difference between the two was greater than the distance between heaven and earth. Even knowing it wouldn’t work, knowing the deal was struck, he threw an identity its way. However, to his surprise, despite the gulf between them, he was able to identify it.

Apollyon - Herald of Heroes

Equip Requirement: LVL 1

Equipment Type: Weapon

Durability: N/A

Effects:

1: Binds to the soul of the wielder. Will never get lost or stolen.

2: Slaying enemies increase stats (slows leveling proportionally. Can determine the percent of exp sacrificed)

3:Autonimous movement and targeting

4:Has a mind of its own, and can choose its wielder. Bond with the mind can improve every aspect of the item.

5:Calculate time until natural death

Current Effect:

Unequipped

Crafted by the collective wish of an entire world for a hero to deliver them from catastrophe. Its…

Incomplete? He wasn’t quite sure what it meant. But he didn’t have time to do think on it more as a prompt from the System appeared in front of his eyes.

Do you wish to become [Soul Bound] to [Apollyon]?]

[This process is irreversible]

[Yes]

[No]

"Yes"

Upon his agreement, Niven fell into unconsciousness.