1 Prologue

"I will place my hope on you.. go forth and stop the Great Cataclysm."

The six-winged angel extended their hand towards me. A warm light began to envelop me, and..

Tore me to shreds from the inside.

The last thing I remember was my vision being blinded by who knows how bright that damn angel's powers were. The pain that followed it came sharp in the beginning, but quickly dulled down.

When I woke up, I was no longer Elgin, the weak alchemist who couldn't exit his workshop for whatever reason was there.

This time, I possessed the body of a [Player].

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Should I be surprised, or should I just accept everything with open arms?

I forced myself to laugh as the [Deleter] returned and wiped everything out in a second. My surroundings were turned into black mist, nothing was left intact, except for me.

The [Deleter] was an entity that I have seen multiple times. This same sequence. The world being eaten up. And yet, I will still be alive. Bound to this pathetic place. All my memories will be retained.

After the update was over, I will be sent back to the first town, the beginners' spawn point.

This was not the first time anyway. I knew what will happen next.

The [Deleter], as the name suggests, scrapped everything like millions of lives wasn't occupying the lands. The complete opposite of the mass of black mist that was the [Deleter], is the [Updater]. The white light that reset the world.

The [Updater] would fly over the entire realm once, and with its every movement, the world would be revived once again. Buildings would be formed, my home will be returned, and the characters that lived in it all stood in their positions.

I was one of those characters, an alchemist that ran a small store in Ulya, a town located far in the outskirts of the continent. My name is Elgin, but I don't even know who granted it to me. I didn't have parents, I just came into existence as this world started to run.

Knowing that I was an anomaly, I tried to run away from my workshop and trigger a change somehow after living several lives, only to be disappointed by the truth. I couldn't leave past the door. There was a barrier that repelled me backwards as soon as I tried to step outside.

Amidst all of this, only I knew what occurred between each update. And yet, I wasn't able to speak about the it to anybody. It brought me a disgusting sense of worthlessness.

I continued to wonder what this world was.

A simulation? A game where lives were called just to amuse whoever our creator was, looking at the Players pathetically trying to clear it and failing at the end?

Seeing the despair of these people must be a real joy for them, huh? Premium entertainment?

It was likely. The world kept repeating again and again. People calling themselves Players showed up and challenged the tower. That same system.

It was a twisted survival game that no one has ever won.

I didn't have an answer to any of my questions. No matter how special I was in the sense that I could live on through each versions without ever being wiped, I still couldn't do much. I couldn't change my fate.

I listened to the Players' chatters multiple times. When they first started, they were always the same- very confused. They had to figure out things on their own and were frequently agitated and lost.

This fact made me assume that they didn't voluntarily join.

Apparently, they were all sent here with the same mission. To go to the middle of this world and reach the apex of the so-called Tree of Origin.

The Tree of Origin- Yggdrasil, was described by them as a floor-based tower, where they would be subjected to challenges specific to each floor. If they could clear the floor without dying, then they will obtain the key to the next floor, and so on.

If they died.. Well, they couldn't respawn like me.

It wasn't that convenient.

I saw people of many races invading our world and declaring themselves as a Player. Sometimes, rude Players would visit my store and demand for free potions, to the point of threatening me. However, the moment they assaulted a character like me, they would be restrained by a binding force, and they would be punished with a great amount of pain.

The Players would soon learn to not mess with the world characters, although some still acted with a vile attitude.

After a couple generations passed, I quickly learned that this game was not going to be completed. At least not anytime soon, unless a miracle happened.

Because even after so many years of waiting, no one had even broke past the 50th floor, let alone the final level- the 100th floor. In other words, all these generations of Players, the best result they can put out didn't even touch the midway point of their mission.

With every update, new Players would come. Unlike the characters, who kept respawning with the exact same specifications, they were genuinely unique souls who differed from one batch to another.

I knew this since I was literally the first shop that they had to visit to inquire for potions. Various faces. Some bright, others gloomy and depressed.

My potions were cheap, but the quality was guaranteed. I didn't have good ingredients to work with. All I had was a back garden that mystically grew the herbs I needed for the basic potions everyday.

With that, I perfected my skills. I never got updated, so my skills were maintained throughout the phases. The lowest level of Health Potion that was supposed to only heal 50 digits of health had its effects elevated. If I was lucky with my calibrations, the healing effect could double up.

I only sold the special potions to people I liked. Those who didn't act out and showed potential. It didn't matter much to them since they would quickly go through the towns and get better resources, but so be it.

I then tried experimenting with creating better potions, but it was to no avail. My skills couldn't level up, I was limited to only low level potions.

Then, what was the point?

I had a cap placed on me from the very start. I couldn't leave my position as the mediocre alchemist Elgin. These Players, they had such bright eyes in the beginning, but I knew that they would eventually fail to accomplish their mission.

The update didn't happen periodically, it happened whenever all the Players were wiped out. I figured this out through overhearing news from the locals who dropped by my store. They would frequently talk about these Players.

Whenever their stories began to mention the shortage of Players who were still alive, I knew that the next update was nearing.

The frustration I felt continued to bottle up without stopping.

I couldn't do anything except for watch everything unfold. Watch as the world kept on getting destroyed and rebuilt, feel myself being generated once more as the puny alchemist.

Whoever implemented this system was a bastard through and through. No debates there.

For hundreds of generations, I had to continue living this life again and again. There was no escape.

That was, until the 'angel' descended and found me.

She changed my life forever.