"The most loved world, huh. I wonder about that."
Vergil exhaled, listening to the coins in his pouch.
Five gold coins. It wasn't much, but he had to use them wisely.
He stood amidst the moving crowds, before moving to sit on one of the empty, wooden benches.
The laughter from residents reached his ears, but it sounded hollow and distant.
What would he do now? Survive? Grow stronger? Or just be normal list the rest.
Weever had given him another chance, but now it was given to him. He had no plan or direction to follow. Just the pain of existing again.
Then the familiar hum brushed into his thoughts.
[You seem lost.]
He exhaled, closing his eyes. 'You can put it that way.'
[Then allow me to offer a suggestion.] The voice was calm,
[Why not become the strongest?]
'What's the use,' he frowned. 'I can barely hold a knife, what do you expect from me?'
[Would you prefer to remain average?]
Vergil remained silent, walking over to take a seat on a nearby bench.
'What is he?' Vergil hesitated, looking to the sky. God I mean... is he like Weaver?'
The system didn't respond.
'So he exists right?'
[Yes he does.]
'I don't care what Weaver does. I just want God's place.'
[If that's what you want — then do it.]
Everything blurred.
The shouts. The thick scent in the air. The light disappeared, plunging his world into absolute blackness.
He blinked, and suddenly the endless plane returned. The land beyond heaven and earth.
Weaver's faint smile flashed in his memory.
Replace God.
Ridiculous.
His reflection shimmered faintly in the black surface beneath his feet. Eyes hollow, yet burning.
"Why not?" he whispered, voice cracking into a quiet laugh.
"I'll replace God."
The voice dissolved, replaced by a silence so heavy it felt jagged and altogether different.
The world snapped into focus once more, the chatter, the cobblestones, the motion of life in Vergil's eyes were now steady.
[How about heading to the blacksmith?] The system suggested.
He nodded. 'Now who can I can ask for directions.'
He looked to his left to see an old women seated on a nearby bench.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Is there a Blacksmith around here?"
She blinked, muttered. Words bent and broke against his ears that felt like utter nonsense.
What? His stomach dropped. I don't understand a thing. Perfect. There's even a language barrier.
"System, can you give me the language at least?"
[Integrating language of Eternia now.]
His tongue flexed as strange syllables pressed against its tip. They felt foreign and heavy, as if they never belonged there.
The old woman hurried closer.
"Young man, are you alright?"
'Alright? Hardly. The language barrier's just another problem to solve.'
He swallowed hard, forcing a calm tone.
"I… I'm fine," he said, forcing his voice steady. "Thank you."
Her expression softened. "You had me worried there." Her face moved closer. "You don't seem to be from around here — your looks..."
Vergil stumbled backwards instinctively. His hands remained on his head before regaining his composure.
"Hello, um... could you tell me where the blacksmith is?"
"Head down the street and you'll see it," she replied softly.
"What's your name?"
"Huh?"
"Your name." The lady chuckled.
My name, huh.
"Vergil,"
She chuckled. "A unique name if I've ever heard one. If you need anything. I'll be here.
"I will," Vergil murmured, already making his way.
First thing, find a blacksmith. The rest would come after.
Making his way down the path, the rhythmic hammering of metal grew with each step. The blacksmith's workshop came into view, and so did the man behind the anvil.
A towering man, almost double Vergil's height with a broad chest and eyes that burned like embers.
Clank. Clank. Bang.
Each strike of the hammer formed a unique rhythm, before coming to a close. He looked up at his customer, setting down his hammer.
When he moved, the wooden floor trembled. His voice rumbling deep. "Young blood, eh?"
"Young blood?"
The man laughed. "Just a saying, boy… does fit you."
'I mean, I guess,' Vergil thought.
He turned and spotted a mirror. His reflection stared back.
He was slender and soft — a boy
ill-suited to survive here. 'I will adapt. I will survive. And I will grow stronger.'
[You're so scrawny-looking.] The system spoke in his mind at the reflection.
Vergil's lips twitched, half in annoyance and half amused that this system had such tact, thinking it was just a machine.
'What did you just say?' Vergil muttered, eyebrows furrowing.
The blacksmith asked curiously, "So, kid, what are you looking for?"
"A dagger," Vergil replied confidently, brushing off the system's jab.
"A dagger, eh? No weapon training, I presume?"
"Yeah."
The blacksmith moved towards the back before returning shortly after.
In his hands was a dagger which he handed to the young boy. Vergil's fingers closed around the handle, sharp and steady.
As Vergil inspected it, the system began analysing the weapon.
[Metal Dagger]
Attack: +5
Worn but well-maintained since its making. A faint engraving is still visible at the base—an insignia of a beginner craftsman.
The blacksmith exhaled. "Been in inventory for a while. I've kept it in good condition... but adventurers these days."
He sighed. "Not their type of weapon, always thinking a sword is the best."
"..." Vergil stood there silently looking at the dagger.
"The name's Gilbert," he said with a smirk on his face. "And it's on the house."
"But if you want. You can pay it back someday," Gilbert said, eyes steady.
'Free? Vergil's grip tightned on the dagger.
"Then thanks, Gilbert," Vergil chuckled, but on guard. He wouldn't let himself be duped.
"You taking on a monster subjugation by any chance?"
"I am. But... I've got no clue where to go," Vergil admitted.
Gilbert sighed. "You're new to this, huh? Just head straight from the entrance… you'll see the Guild."
Vergil paused, frowning. "Why are you helping me so much? I'm a stranger. You've got no reason to go this far."
No one gave something for nothing. The info was fine, but giving me the dagger for free? Either he's just a good man… or he has a reason.
Gilbert laughed, rubbing his hair. "You're a little kid — think of it as me doing you a favour."
Vergil smiled and handed over a gold coin. "Take it."
Gilbert's eyes widened. "That dagger's only worth 30 silver at best!"
Vergil fastened the weapon to his waist. "Keep it."
Vergil didn't like owing anyone.
Making allies would be the best. If I want God's throne, I need to conquer this one first.
[System Notification]
[Your relationship with Gilbert has progressed to ★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ (1/10 Stars). You can now view your relationships in the 'Confidants' section. Say 'Confidants' to access it.]
"Is he someone who can grant special effects if I improve our relationship?" Vergil asked.
[No, he isn't.]
"Please explain."
[To gain system effects such as stat boosts, synergy skills, and more, the target must either be or have the potential to become the pinnacle of their 'Path'. I will inform you of such individuals. However, it is up to you to form relationships with them.]
"Huh. What an interesting system," Vergil murmured.
------
Walking towards the Adventurer's Guild, Vergil entered through the front door, only to see many seats around him already occupied by adventurers.
Most drank and laughed while others shouted their stories. Vergil didn't gaze at them for more than a moment before heading to the front desk of the reception.
She looked up and smiled politely. "How can I help you?"
"I'd like to register as an adventurer."
"That'll be three gold to get your ID and start taking requests."
The moment he heard the price, Vergil felt like he'd been stabbed in the chest.
'Five coins spent, and already I'm nearly broke. This world wastes nothing.'
He handed it over, his knuckles turning white.
"Can I get your name as well? It will be used as your identity when you visit other guilds in this kingdom."
"It's Vergil," he replied.
She nodded and disappeared into the back room. A few minutes later, she returned with a card embedded with a glowing mana crystal.
---
[Adventurer's ID]
Name: Vergil
Rank: F – Adventurer
---
Expected
"You can raise your rank by completing requests of your level or one rank higher," she explained.
"Right now, you're only allowed to take on E-rank requests at most."
It was a safegaurd no doubt. It would protect arrogant adventurers and would teach them a lesson
"What requests are available right now?"
"The only one available is and F-rank goblin hunt in Rotroot Forest if you are interested."
Vergil gave a slow nod. "I'll take it."
"Bring back proof of your hunt–those crystals, preferably." She spoke, stamping a piece of paper.
So crystals are the proof, huh?
He turned from the reception desk.