2025-02-14 21:08:17Rick woke up abruptly, feeling as if something was off about him. His vision was still blurry from the deep sleep, but his body felt... light. As if the physical burdens and wounds that had weighed him down before had vanished without a trace.
His eyes slowly opened, and as he moved his body, he felt no pain, none of the soreness he had experienced before. His entire body felt different, and there wasn’t even the slightest ache where his wounds had once been. He ran his hands over his body, touching every part of himself, hoping to find an explanation for this strange sensation. Rick stared at his right hand, which was usually covered in bruises and cuts from punches or iron shackles. Now, however, his skin was smooth, unblemished. When he touched his face, the cheek that had once throbbed with pain from a heavy blow was now flawless. No bruises, no soreness, everything was gone. Even as he reached into his mouth, probing the spot where a tooth had been knocked out, he found it had been completely restored. Rick froze, utterly bewildered by what was happening to him. “What... what happened to me?” he murmured, his voice laced with uncertainty. He glanced around the cramped cell he was in. Everything looked the same, yet he could feel a drastic change within himself. How was it possible for his body, which had been battered and bruised, to heal so quickly? Just as his confusion reached its peak, something unexpected appeared before him. A transparent screen materialized in the air, right in front of his face. Rick flinched slightly, instinctively rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Yet, no matter how many times he blinked, the screen remained, hovering in midair as if waiting for him to read it. His eyes carefully scanned the details on the panel. The information displayed was unfamiliar, yet oddly recognizable at the same time. It was a status system, just like the RPG games he had played in the past. Slowly, he began to read through it, taking in every word. Name: Rick Carter Age: 26 Years Gender: Male Status Level: 1 HP: 1800 MP: 1000 Strength: 40 Attack: 55 Intelligence: 65 Vitality: 35 Dexterity: 42 Agility: 37 Skills Passive: Divine Awareness Enhanced Vision Warden’s Will Active: Prison of Light Divine Shackles Bifrost Barrier Hofund Sword Ability Dimensional Storage Titles: Vassal of Heimdall (Incomplete) Divine Warden (Incomplete) Bearer of Gjallarhorn (Incomplete) Watcher in Training (Incomplete) Item: Hofund Sword, The Sentinel of Asgard Rick stared blankly at each line of information. Everything written there felt completely unfamiliar. Level, HP, MP, strength, and skills things he had never expected. Names like Hofund Sword and Bifrost Barrier sounded like something straight out of mythology or legend. And as if that wasn’t strange enough, at the bottom of the status screen, there was a message that left him even more confused. [ Heimdall, the guardian of the Gods, has taken interest in the resilience within Rick’s heart. He grants you the opportunity to become a Vassal of Heimdall, a bridge between Asgard and Midgard, and the one destined to halt the Ragnarok cycle. ] Rick read the message over and over, trying to grasp its meaning. "Vassal of Heimdall?" he thought. "Guardian of the Gods? A bridge between two worlds?" The words felt like something pulled from an ancient epic, filled with riddles. He tried to piece together the significance of each phrase, but the more he thought about it, the deeper his confusion grew. Rick took a deep breath, trying to calm his chaotic thoughts. He closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to recall all the information he had heard while in prison. Slowly, fragments of memories began to piece together in his mind, forming a clearer picture. Six months ago, he had ended up in this prison for assaulting someone. That impulsive decision had led him behind bars, far from freedom and the life he once knew. But soon after he was incarcerated, the world outside changed drastically. One month after his imprisonment, the world descended into chaos. A dystopia that he had always thought only existed in stories became a harsh reality. An economic recession hit with devastating force, and worse still, it felt like the apocalypse had begun. Portals and dimensional rifts began appearing across the globe without warning. From these portals, monsters and alien creatures, unlike anything humans had ever seen, emerged, attacking major cities and destroying civilizations that had been built over centuries. The world governments, even the United Nations Security Council, were powerless to fully address the disaster. They could only leave the safety of each country to its respective national security agencies. However, this system created a huge imbalance. Countries with weak military forces collapsed faster than those with advanced weaponry. Destruction spread in waves, and fear gripped everyone. Rick let out a heavy sigh, remembering how, one month into the crisis, militaries around the world began to struggle. Stockpiles of weapons and military equipment were nearly depleted, while the waves of monster attacks showed no signs of stopping. Yet, in the midst of the desperation, something strange and inexplicable happened, some humans suddenly gained extraordinary powers. No one knew for certain where the powers came from or what caused them. What was clear, however, was that some people suddenly possessed abilities far beyond those of ordinary humans. They were called by various names: the Chosen, the Awakened, the Transcendent, or the Blessed. No matter what they were called, the point was the same. They became the new hope for humanity, teetering on the brink of destruction. "Guardian angels, huh?" Rick muttered, his eyes drifting to the ceiling of his cell. He hadn’t believed in any of it before. To him, it was just a rumor blown out of proportion by the media to calm the public. But now, after seeing the status screen appear before him, he was starting to realize that maybe it wasn’t all nonsense. He looked back at his hands, still finding it hard to believe the drastic changes to his body. All the injuries he had sustained while in prison had vanished without a trace. Not only that, but the power he saw in his status felt all too real. Rick bit his lip, frustrated by the lack of information he had. The prison where he was held was quite isolated from the outside world. Only a little news trickled in, and even then, it was often contradictory. He had no idea how someone could gain such powers. Was there some kind of selection process? Or was it all just random? With all the limitations he had, Rick couldn't fully understand the situation in the outside world. All he knew were the things he heard from the guards or fellow prisoners who had relatives out there. And most of them could only speculate about what was really happening. However, one thing that still gave Rick a little relief was that the prison he was in seemed relatively safe from the disasters happening outside. Thanks to its location at the edge of a remote island, they hadn't been directly affected by the chaos in the outside world. So far, no portals or dimensional rifts had appeared near the prison. This prison, despite being grim and confining, had become the safest place he could imagine. There were no terrifying monsters roaming inside, no destruction like the kind happening in the major cities. The only threats were a few wild animals in the surrounding forest that had evolved into more vicious creatures. But as long as he stayed inside the prison complex, he would remain safe. Rick leaned back against the wall of his cell, his eyes staring out through the prison bars, the darkness surrounding him with only the faint sound of the night wind. The outside world may have become hell, but inside, everything still went on as usual, monotonous routines, the oppressive silence, and the long days. Rick shifted his gaze back to the status screen still floating in front of him. There were many things that confused him, from the numbers and stats to terms he'd never heard before. But rather than dwelling on it all, he chose to focus on one thing that caught his attention: the bottom of his status screen, under the Item section. "Item, huh?" Rick murmured softly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the small text on the screen. His hand slowly extended, and his index finger tapped the blinking word [Item]. As soon as his finger made contact, the status screen changed instantly, displaying a detailed description of a weapon he had never heard of before. Hofund Sword [ Hofund is a divine sword belonging to Heimdall, originating from Asgard, and forged from Asgardian Orichalcum and Bifröst Light Crystals. This sword has the power to cut at the speed of light, open dimensional rifts, and create protective barriers. Anyone who possesses Hofund is recognized by Heimdall as his vassal. However, in its incomplete state or at an early level, its powers are still limited. ] Rick read the description carefully, his brow furrowing. But before he could absorb more, a radiant light suddenly filled his cell. Rick instinctively stepped back, his eyes widening as he saw a sword slowly materialize in midair, floating directly in front of him. The sword looked exactly as described in his status. The blade was sleek and elegant, about 1.2 meters long. Its surface was a shimmering silver, emitting a soft rainbow spectrum effect along the rune carvings that adorned the entire blade. As Rick looked closer, the runes seemed to glow faintly, almost alive and waiting to be activated. The sword's hilt was adorned with a magnificent dragon-head ornament, its eyes seemingly watching its surroundings. The grip was wrapped in what looked like dragonhide, sturdy yet comfortable to hold. Rick slowly reached out, carefully touching the hilt. As his fingers made contact with the sacred dragonhide, a warm sensation spread through his entire body. The sword vibrated lightly in his hand, as if acknowledging its presence. The rainbow aura surrounding it flared briefly before gradually dimming to a golden glow. "So... this is real?" Rick murmured in disbelief, staring at his reflection in the glimmering blade. He swung it slowly, and the sword felt incredibly light in his hand, almost as if it were an extension of his own body. The light around the sword slowly shifted from rainbow hues to silver as he tested it by striking at the empty air. In contrast, when he focused on defense, the light turned golden, creating an invisible barrier around him. Rick took a deep breath, trying to control his astonishment. As Rick remained focused on his sword, a sudden bright light flashed in front of his cell from the corridor. His instincts immediately reacted. It was undoubtedly a guard's flashlight, making its usual rounds. "Damn!" Rick hissed, panicking. Without thinking, he quickly dismissed the status screen, searching for a way to hide Hofund before the guard reached his cell. He gripped the sword's hilt tightly and thought hard. "Disappear! Return!" he whispered urgently, hoping something would happen. As if responding to his intent, Hofund glowed briefly before vanishing instantly, seemingly returning to some unknown place. Rick exhaled in relief, but the sound of the guard's footsteps grew closer. He quickly jumped back onto his bed, tucking himself under the worn blanket, trying to cover his body as much as possible. A few seconds later, the flashlight beam swept through the bars of his cell. Rick held his breath, hoping nothing suspicious would be seen. The guard paused briefly in front of his cell, observing with a sharp gaze. "Troublemaker, are you already asleep?" The guard muttered as he directed his flashlight into the cell. Rick remained still, pretending to be asleep. His heart pounded loudly, cold sweat dripping from his temples, even though his body was covered by the blanket. He could feel the guard’s sharp gaze searching for anything out of the ordinary. What felt like an eternity passed before the guard mumbled something and continued on to the next cell. As soon as the footsteps faded into the distance, Rick slowly opened his eyes and took a deep breath. "That was close..." he muttered softly. He lifted the blanket slightly, glancing toward where Hofund had been. There was no trace of the sword, as if it had all been an illusion. Rick looked at his hands, still feeling the warm sensation from the sword's hilt earlier. This wasn’t a dream; it was real. He now possessed something far greater than he had ever imagined. However, one thing was certain, he had to be much more careful from now on.
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The morning inside Ironclad Prison felt as bleak as ever. Sunlight filtering through the iron bars did little to dispel the cold, dreary atmosphere of the cell.In the cramped corner of the room, Rick remained curled up under his thin blanket, reluctant to move. His empty gaze was fixed on the wall, his mind still racing over last night's events-the mysterious status window, the Hofund sword that seemed straight out of mythology, and most of all, the wounds on his body that had inexplicably vanished without a trace.He let out a long sigh."There's no way I can just walk out like this... If they see me completely fine, there'll be too many questions," he muttered under his breath beneath the blanket.A low groan broke the silence.Old Man Harvey, his cellmate who had been locked up here longer than anyone else, began stirring from his creaky bed.Rick peeked from under the blanket, watching the old man grumble as he pulled on his tattered prison uniform, just like every other morning.
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Rick stood in front of the sink, turning on the faucet and letting the water run over his hands. With slow movements, he washed his face, removing the dried blood and bruises that covered it.Every drop of water that touched his skin felt like a blade piercing into him, yet he only gave a faint smile as he looked at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall."This is just perfect..." he muttered softly, observing the bruises decorating his cheeks.The wounds now looked natural, as if they were truly the result of last night’s beating by Bruno and his gang.At the very least, if anyone saw him, they would think he had just woken up from a rough night, not that he had been beaten by the prison guards. Rick splashed his face with water once more, then took a deep breath before stepping away from the sink.As he walked down the cold, damp prison corridor, Rick grumbled internally.The work assignment given to him today would once again force him to face Bruno and his lackeys.It ha
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After several hours of non-stop work, Rick finally paused to catch his breath. Sweat soaked his face and clothes that were already dirty with dust and metal rust.All his work was also almost done, but as usual, most of the work was his own effort. Bruno and his men only pretended to be busy, mostly chatting while hurling insults at him. "Hey, Rick! You're like a tireless milk cow, huh," taunted one of Bruno's men. "When did you realise that you're just a slave here?""Hahaha! "Loud laughter filled the room. Rick continued to ignore it. He straightened his back and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his gaze straight ahead, acting as if nothing had happened. But in his heart, the embers of anger continued to burn.Loud laughter filled the room. Rick continued to ignore it. He straightened his back and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his gaze straight ahead, acting as if nothing had happened. But in his heart, the embers of anger continued to burn. Bruno, who was still sitting le
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Rick stood tall, the long iron rod still clutched tightly in his hand. His gaze was sharp, full of confidence, as if he was the sole owner of control in the room. Some of Bruno's men, who had been impatiently waiting for orders, finally darted forward with shouts full of emotion. They ran like Spartan warriors, carrying their respective iron bars, ready to finish Rick off with one blow. Meanwhile, Bruno only smiled faintly from behind, confident that Rick would be destroyed in seconds. But Rick, undaunted, stood his ground. "Come on," Rick muttered softly, grinning. "You think your numbers can scare me?"The first two men who led the charge swung their iron rods almost simultaneously. The swings were fast, powerful, and aimed right at the vital points of Rick's body. However, Rick's eyes that had been strengthened with the Enhanced Vision ability could capture every detail of the movement clearly. He could read the direction of the attack trajectory even before the iron bar got c
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The atmosphere in the prison dining room is always tense. The bland smell of food mixed with the sweat of the inmates created a suffocating atmosphere. For Rick, this place was not just a dining hall, but also a psychological battlefield where power and hierarchy were determined. However, today, everything felt much different, not in a positive sense, but actually many times worse. Normally, the tension in this place is enough to make anyone who newcomers would feel intimidated. However, this time, the murderous air that enveloped the room was so thick that it felt like it could be cut with a knife. Rick could feel it clearly. From the cold stares that were thrown at him, from the way some people's breathing was a little heavier, from the small movements that seemed ordinary, but full of hidden intentions.The hundreds of inmates sitting quietly at their tables were actually harbouring murderous intent. Rick was not surprised; this was somethin
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Three inmates strode quickly towards Rick, their gazes full of hatred and unconcealed killing intent. Meanwhile, the other inmates remained where they were, but their hands began to move, pulling sharp weapons, iron bars, and other dangerous objects from under their clothes and under the table.Meanwhile, the other inmates remain seated in their places, but their eyes stare intently, observing every movement. Some began to reach under their shirts or slip their hands under tables, pulling out sharp weapons, iron rods, or anything else that could be used to end someone's life. There was no longer any desire to hide their intentions.Rick stood up slowly from his chair, his face remained calm, without the slightest sign of panic. The first move came from a burly man with a rusty iron rod in his hand. With a roar of rage, the man swung his weapon straight at Rick's head, hoping to crush his skull in one blow.However, Rick only tilted his body slightly, dodging with ease. There was no e
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The previously pitch-black dining room floor had now turned into a sea of red. Fresh blood pooled in several parts, creating a horrific scene that looked more like a human slaughterhouse than a dining room. A foul odor filled the air, mixed with the groans and groans of pain from the fallen prisoners. Rick stood in the middle of it, the iron bar in his hand already covered in blood. His breathing was steady, his eyes still burning with anger and cold joy. Hundreds of people were lying on the floor, helpless. Some of them writhed with their bodies covered in wounds, while others had even lost consciousness. The brutal blows from Rick's iron bar had paralyzed them all. Of Bruno's total troops, almost half had fallen. But there was still half left. Rick swept his gaze across the room. The dining room was about 300 square meters in size, large enough to move freely without much hindrance. The perfect space to fight without restrictions. The waves of attacks continued to come. The
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The previously pitch-black dining room floor had now turned into a sea of red. Fresh blood pooled in several parts, creating a horrific scene that looked more like a human slaughterhouse than a dining room. A foul odor filled the air, mixed with the groans and groans of pain from the fallen prisoners. Rick stood in the middle of it, the iron bar in his hand already covered in blood. His breathing was steady, his eyes still burning with anger and cold joy. Hundreds of people were lying on the floor, helpless. Some of them writhed with their bodies covered in wounds, while others had even lost consciousness. The brutal blows from Rick's iron bar had paralyzed them all. Of Bruno's total troops, almost half had fallen. But there was still half left. Rick swept his gaze across the room. The dining room was about 300 square meters in size, large enough to move freely without much hindrance. The perfect space to fight without restrictions. The waves of attacks continued to come. The
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Three inmates strode quickly towards Rick, their gazes full of hatred and unconcealed killing intent. Meanwhile, the other inmates remained where they were, but their hands began to move, pulling sharp weapons, iron bars, and other dangerous objects from under their clothes and under the table.Meanwhile, the other inmates remain seated in their places, but their eyes stare intently, observing every movement. Some began to reach under their shirts or slip their hands under tables, pulling out sharp weapons, iron rods, or anything else that could be used to end someone's life. There was no longer any desire to hide their intentions.Rick stood up slowly from his chair, his face remained calm, without the slightest sign of panic. The first move came from a burly man with a rusty iron rod in his hand. With a roar of rage, the man swung his weapon straight at Rick's head, hoping to crush his skull in one blow.However, Rick only tilted his body slightly, dodging with ease. There was no e
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The atmosphere in the prison dining room is always tense. The bland smell of food mixed with the sweat of the inmates created a suffocating atmosphere. For Rick, this place was not just a dining hall, but also a psychological battlefield where power and hierarchy were determined. However, today, everything felt much different, not in a positive sense, but actually many times worse. Normally, the tension in this place is enough to make anyone who newcomers would feel intimidated. However, this time, the murderous air that enveloped the room was so thick that it felt like it could be cut with a knife. Rick could feel it clearly. From the cold stares that were thrown at him, from the way some people's breathing was a little heavier, from the small movements that seemed ordinary, but full of hidden intentions.The hundreds of inmates sitting quietly at their tables were actually harbouring murderous intent. Rick was not surprised; this was somethin
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Rick stood tall, the long iron rod still clutched tightly in his hand. His gaze was sharp, full of confidence, as if he was the sole owner of control in the room. Some of Bruno's men, who had been impatiently waiting for orders, finally darted forward with shouts full of emotion. They ran like Spartan warriors, carrying their respective iron bars, ready to finish Rick off with one blow. Meanwhile, Bruno only smiled faintly from behind, confident that Rick would be destroyed in seconds. But Rick, undaunted, stood his ground. "Come on," Rick muttered softly, grinning. "You think your numbers can scare me?"The first two men who led the charge swung their iron rods almost simultaneously. The swings were fast, powerful, and aimed right at the vital points of Rick's body. However, Rick's eyes that had been strengthened with the Enhanced Vision ability could capture every detail of the movement clearly. He could read the direction of the attack trajectory even before the iron bar got c
Slaughter Preparation
After several hours of non-stop work, Rick finally paused to catch his breath. Sweat soaked his face and clothes that were already dirty with dust and metal rust.All his work was also almost done, but as usual, most of the work was his own effort. Bruno and his men only pretended to be busy, mostly chatting while hurling insults at him. "Hey, Rick! You're like a tireless milk cow, huh," taunted one of Bruno's men. "When did you realise that you're just a slave here?""Hahaha! "Loud laughter filled the room. Rick continued to ignore it. He straightened his back and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his gaze straight ahead, acting as if nothing had happened. But in his heart, the embers of anger continued to burn.Loud laughter filled the room. Rick continued to ignore it. He straightened his back and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his gaze straight ahead, acting as if nothing had happened. But in his heart, the embers of anger continued to burn. Bruno, who was still sitting le
Feigning Naivety
Rick stood in front of the sink, turning on the faucet and letting the water run over his hands. With slow movements, he washed his face, removing the dried blood and bruises that covered it.Every drop of water that touched his skin felt like a blade piercing into him, yet he only gave a faint smile as he looked at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall."This is just perfect..." he muttered softly, observing the bruises decorating his cheeks.The wounds now looked natural, as if they were truly the result of last night’s beating by Bruno and his gang.At the very least, if anyone saw him, they would think he had just woken up from a rough night, not that he had been beaten by the prison guards. Rick splashed his face with water once more, then took a deep breath before stepping away from the sink.As he walked down the cold, damp prison corridor, Rick grumbled internally.The work assignment given to him today would once again force him to face Bruno and his lackeys.It ha
Crazy Plan
The morning inside Ironclad Prison felt as bleak as ever. Sunlight filtering through the iron bars did little to dispel the cold, dreary atmosphere of the cell.In the cramped corner of the room, Rick remained curled up under his thin blanket, reluctant to move. His empty gaze was fixed on the wall, his mind still racing over last night's events-the mysterious status window, the Hofund sword that seemed straight out of mythology, and most of all, the wounds on his body that had inexplicably vanished without a trace.He let out a long sigh."There's no way I can just walk out like this... If they see me completely fine, there'll be too many questions," he muttered under his breath beneath the blanket.A low groan broke the silence.Old Man Harvey, his cellmate who had been locked up here longer than anyone else, began stirring from his creaky bed.Rick peeked from under the blanket, watching the old man grumble as he pulled on his tattered prison uniform, just like every other morning.
Vassal Of Heimdall
Rick woke up abruptly, feeling as if something was off about him. His vision was still blurry from the deep sleep, but his body felt... light. As if the physical burdens and wounds that had weighed him down before had vanished without a trace.His eyes slowly opened, and as he moved his body, he felt no pain, none of the soreness he had experienced before. His entire body felt different, and there wasn’t even the slightest ache where his wounds had once been.He ran his hands over his body, touching every part of himself, hoping to find an explanation for this strange sensation. Rick stared at his right hand, which was usually covered in bruises and cuts from punches or iron shackles. Now, however, his skin was smooth, unblemished.When he touched his face, the cheek that had once throbbed with pain from a heavy blow was now flawless. No bruises, no soreness, everything was gone. Even as he reached into his mouth, probing the spot where a tooth had been knocked out, he found it had be
