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My Skills Are All Max-Level

It was originally a game, made to be as realistic as possible with features to match. But as time passed and the game progressed there was no doubt about it. The game encroached upon reality. Not in the traditional sense, that the same monsters and people we had come to know so intimately started to appear in reality. But blank spaces that swallowed the country... the continent. And any that attempted to even reach a finger within those blank spaces of reality were consumed alongside it. I had thought myself average, that I could make some money with this game. Sanctuary. But there was a problem - a boon - whenever I gained a skill, it became max level. There was no exception. So, when the world started to fall apart, and my prowess revealed… They hailed me a hero. Despite the wrongdoings and plundering I had done in the name of wealth and power, they looked to me. To solve their problems and save the world. But could I do it? Demons and beings of absolute power. Such that even my cheat made it only marginally easier. I had no choice. It was either I fought and won, or I cowered and let the world be consumed by the cold devouring void. And so, I fight; from a beginning filled with greed, to a future filled with the hopes and wishes of mankind. Can I do it? "Heh~" Of course I can.

SpacesSnips · Games
Not enough ratings
70 Chs

Prologue

Death. 

Simple, pure and incomprehensible. 

Within that moment, before I could even respond - even think of such actions - I felt the cold blade shave a chunk of my hair. A golden blonde that fell to the ground, leaving a misshapen braid.

And when time came to my mind again -'react damnit' - there was nothing I could do but accept the death I had been given. 

Ignoble as it was.

But I smiled anyway, even as my head fell to the ground. A pain of a thousand deaths reigned upon my mind only likened to the most extreme edge of pain.

"HAH!"

I clutched my chest in hand. Felt the rapid pace of my heart pound against the confines of my ribcage.

Looked around.

A visage of gold, with luster greater than what could be naturally imagined, colors brighter and more lustrous than the eye could perceive. Condemned within the confines of a barren land, a barren city.

"Welcome." 

This being spoke. I knew not what it was, nor the manner of which it spoke with. Only that it could, had. The being held no mouth upon those features, no perceivable neck nor nose, only ruddy eyes that looked upon me with pity and regret. 

As if… like… a promise failed to keep.

For its body - long and straight, like a serpent stretched - bowed down and handed to me a golden sword. 

Of course it was not made of gold, a ridiculous thought to even consider, yet… whatever alloy this gold-esque metal was woven from. It stood the test of time.

I had no need to test the blade upon any surface. With practiced ease my hand flipped the long strands of my hair further away from my back, away from the sheath that had been placed over my side. 

The blade fit with precision.

Like a cube cut by those machines, whose mere marriage brought satisfaction to the masses, though of course it also brought rot upon their minds. Consumed by ever growing popularity and mimics that took up their time.

A snort left my nose at the tangent my mind had come across. Only because I had pondered the mechanisms of this sheath.

"My thanks." I whispered to the being. 

Who responded with a quiet tilt of his head. Along with a nod towards the exit, although I had already known.

Such was the cyclical nature of this demo. An endless cycle of death and exploration. Maybe, given months - even years - I might have been able to complete…

No, that was the wrong word.

Explore.

Yes, given an immense amount of time I would be able to explore, delve the deepest reaches of this world.

But with the startling lack of progress, the lack of system messages and skills that spoke of progress, there was nothing I could do but pray that my skill had advanced in the endless wars I fought in.

To others my progress would be clear. My guts would spill upon the lifeless ground, pixelated, and their oohs' and ahhs' would reach a crescendo.

My edited journey would be broadcast to the masses, they would laugh, cheer, shed tears, and look upon my bloodied corpse with naught but endless disdain.

And I would fight in resistance. My image was not tarnished yet and I would not allow it to die an ignoble death.

The world watched. Bathed in golden radiance I wielded my sword. With wings and the halo of an angel. Against forces unknown and known.

All to demonstrate this game… this 'Sanctuary' to the world. To introduce what may very well become the second world. 

This 'Sanctuary'

The name fit.

As though it had been carefully selected under heavy scrutiny.

But even if it hadn't, if it was a mere spur of the moment decision.

There was none that fit this endless game better.

For it was a sanctuary.

And for me that sanctuary fought. Golden and blackened beings in an endless war for some nascent - and irrelevant - holy land.

I cared not.

For the flame of ambition had been set verily upon my chest. I would not let such majesty extinguish.