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System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Three
Oliver was trudging up the stone stairs with the realization that he was moving painfully slow. The air weighed heavy, and each step felt more strenuous than the previous one. His hands were trembling. His chest felt tight. For no apparent reason. Just a feeling—a gut instinct of bad omen.And then it happened.The Rift didn’t just open within himself. It tore apart.An invisible stroke ran through his chest, like a lightning bolt striking it, but there came no sound. Only the pain: the marvelous, jagged, cutting right through him. He fell on one knee and gasped. The cracked stone of the stair came alive. Then the bubbling began—like wax being melted at the flame's edge.Heat erupted from inside him. First it was orange; then it turned white; now it was blue. The fire pouring from his chest was a tempest: rushing up, a whirl, furious, flashing. It burned quietly, but its heat howled. The sword slipped from Oliver’s grip, falling to the ground with a clang.For something too blinding,
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Four
With a roar that was not merely fury but grief, exile, and ancient betrayal turned into thunder, the colossus lunged forward, not as though it were a creature that had waited so long to be born, but as if with the terrifying speed of a thing that had long waited to be born.Oliver didn't pause; he took up instinct against design. His body moved then, not from muscle memory, but as if some deeper code had written this moment into the very fibersHis boots ignited sparks across the scorched floor, his every step a scream of resistance against impossibility, his blade trailing light that pulsed like a second heart, running in to the chaos. The monster-instance of his own image, by time and torment-raised a fist the size of a tombstone and every bit of it fell on Oliver, who attempted to fling himself to the left. The sheer force of that impact sent shockwaves through the rock, bursting fissures out across the obsidian floor and launching shards into the air like the jagged wings of a dyi
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Five
The air smelled of orange blossoms and honey. For a long time, Oliver didn’t move. The sun warmed his face, and the wind was soft—like breath against his skin. A tree above him rustled gently, its leaves whispering secrets he couldn’t quite hear.He was lying in the grass. Real grass. Not cracked stone or ash-covered ground. Grass that tickled his arms. The sky was impossibly blue, like an ocean flipped upside down, and the clouds were like boats drifting with nowhere to go. No fire. No screaming metal. No sword in his hand.Only peace.He sat up slowly. His ribs didn’t hurt. His hands were whole. Even the scar across his chest, the one he’d earned in the fourth siege of Halron Keep, was gone. He touched his face, then his chest. Nothing. Clean.“Oliver,” a voice called.He turned.Azrael was walking toward him—alive. Smiling. That smile, that impossible, heart-breaking grin. His long black coat danced in the breeze. His boots didn’t crunch against the ground because there was no war
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Six
From the ceiling to the floor, the cavern was shaking. Dust motes and little sparks hung in the air, glowing like fireflies. Fragments of the battle still echoed faintly. Cracks curved across the charred walls, where pieces of stone and weapons were scattered over the ground like forgotten remnants of a story.Amidst all this, Oliver was lying sprawled on the ground. His chest was slowly rising and falling. Breathing, yes. Only just. He had survived through the illusion and to the other side of the trap, killed the strange mirror guardian, and survived the battle. It had now taken everything from him. His arms were heavy. His legs wouldn't move. His thoughts seemed to crawl towards him slowly, as though having to plough their way through viscous water. He had lost his sword. He remembered throwing it into the strange gate at the very last moment. It had been the sword he threw. He had seen the hilt disappearing into the light of dawn or early morning, or so he thought just a shade b
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Seven
Oliver stood on weak legs. The air was thick with dust. It floated all around him, making it hard to breathe. Each breath hurt. His lungs burned. His skin was scratched and bleeding. His arm had a deep cut. Blood ran down it, warm and sticky. He had lost a lot of blood. Too much. But still, his mind was clear. Very clear.In front of him, the Heart was gone. It had exploded into light and smoke. The tall spire that held it had fallen. Now it was only black rubble. It smoked like something dead. Something very old. And something very wrong had been inside it. Now that thing was free.Oliver could feel it. Watching him.The air around him felt heavy. Something was hiding in the smoke. It had no face. But its gaze was sharp. Sharp like a knife. It touched the edges of Oliver's thoughts. It crawled through his mind. Cold. Silent. Hungry.Then—A sound. Not a normal sound. Not the wind. Not rocks falling. It was like a breath. A long, deep breath.The stone under Oliver’s feet shook. Then l
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One
"Damn it, I'm late for class!" Oliver Beckett exclaimed hastily while dashing through the street that was crowded with people going about their daily's activities. The morning sun was burning brightly, and Oliver's shirt was now drenched in sweat due to him running all the way from his apartment that school.He lacked the money to board a public bus or cab, so he decided to get to school the any way he's been doing ever since he resumed.Oliver kept bumping into people while running forward, and they kept raining abuses on him. But Oliver paid no attention to them, he was truly late for the test.After running through the street for several more minutes, Oliver finally arrived in front of the school's gate. He leaned his hands on his knees while panting heavily, and sweat trickled down from his face and dropped to the floor."I'm few minutes late!" Oliver glanced at his wristwatch with widened eyes before running into the academy's premises and began to make his way to his class.Whil
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter Two
Oliver picked himself off the floor and wiped the dust off his body. He straightened his shirt before heading to his class room. After walking down the hallway for a few minutes he finally arrived in front of the classroom and he walked in slowly.Stepping into the class, Oliver found the students already seated and a teacher standing in front of the class. All eyes shifted towards Oliver the moment he walked in, and everyone all had a look of disgust after realizing who it was."Look would finally decided to join us." The female teacher muttered as she glared at Oliver in hate and disdain."I'm sorry..I had to run all the way here and then got into an accident." Oliver explained in a timid tone, and his head facing the concrete floor in shame."Of course, you lack money to use the public transportation. A trash like you can't even afford $5 to board a cab or an Uber? You are a disgrace, Oliver Beckett." The teacher known as Mrs Jane spat without holding back, and all Oliver could do
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter Three
Oliver's eyes snapped open after hearing the words of the teacher, and the students spectating couldn't help but laugh at the distracing act from Oliver. "Go back to your seat, trash, you have no talent to be recorded." Mrs Jane spoke, glaring at Oliver in disdain. Oliver nodded sluggishly as he began to walk back to his seat with a heavy heart, and his eyes glued to the floor to avoid the hateful glares from his classmates.Oliver sat down on his seat and placed his head on the desk, unable to hold it in any longer, he let the tears flow, but tried his best to stay silent.The whole world changed after a rift tore open in a certain part of Earth, and powerful beasts that could use strange abilities flooded earth and plunged Earth into immediate danger. During the whole chaos, few individuals discovered that it was possible for them to tap into their inner core and awaken Talents. The few individuals who discovered it first were able to tap into their core and awaken different power
Latest Chapter
Chapter One Hundred-Seven
Oliver stood on weak legs. The air was thick with dust. It floated all around him, making it hard to breathe. Each breath hurt. His lungs burned. His skin was scratched and bleeding. His arm had a deep cut. Blood ran down it, warm and sticky. He had lost a lot of blood. Too much. But still, his mind was clear. Very clear.In front of him, the Heart was gone. It had exploded into light and smoke. The tall spire that held it had fallen. Now it was only black rubble. It smoked like something dead. Something very old. And something very wrong had been inside it. Now that thing was free.Oliver could feel it. Watching him.The air around him felt heavy. Something was hiding in the smoke. It had no face. But its gaze was sharp. Sharp like a knife. It touched the edges of Oliver's thoughts. It crawled through his mind. Cold. Silent. Hungry.Then—A sound. Not a normal sound. Not the wind. Not rocks falling. It was like a breath. A long, deep breath.The stone under Oliver’s feet shook. Then l
Chapter One Hundred-Six
From the ceiling to the floor, the cavern was shaking. Dust motes and little sparks hung in the air, glowing like fireflies. Fragments of the battle still echoed faintly. Cracks curved across the charred walls, where pieces of stone and weapons were scattered over the ground like forgotten remnants of a story.Amidst all this, Oliver was lying sprawled on the ground. His chest was slowly rising and falling. Breathing, yes. Only just. He had survived through the illusion and to the other side of the trap, killed the strange mirror guardian, and survived the battle. It had now taken everything from him. His arms were heavy. His legs wouldn't move. His thoughts seemed to crawl towards him slowly, as though having to plough their way through viscous water. He had lost his sword. He remembered throwing it into the strange gate at the very last moment. It had been the sword he threw. He had seen the hilt disappearing into the light of dawn or early morning, or so he thought just a shade b
Chapter One Hundred-Five
The air smelled of orange blossoms and honey. For a long time, Oliver didn’t move. The sun warmed his face, and the wind was soft—like breath against his skin. A tree above him rustled gently, its leaves whispering secrets he couldn’t quite hear.He was lying in the grass. Real grass. Not cracked stone or ash-covered ground. Grass that tickled his arms. The sky was impossibly blue, like an ocean flipped upside down, and the clouds were like boats drifting with nowhere to go. No fire. No screaming metal. No sword in his hand.Only peace.He sat up slowly. His ribs didn’t hurt. His hands were whole. Even the scar across his chest, the one he’d earned in the fourth siege of Halron Keep, was gone. He touched his face, then his chest. Nothing. Clean.“Oliver,” a voice called.He turned.Azrael was walking toward him—alive. Smiling. That smile, that impossible, heart-breaking grin. His long black coat danced in the breeze. His boots didn’t crunch against the ground because there was no war
Chapter One Hundred-Four
With a roar that was not merely fury but grief, exile, and ancient betrayal turned into thunder, the colossus lunged forward, not as though it were a creature that had waited so long to be born, but as if with the terrifying speed of a thing that had long waited to be born.Oliver didn't pause; he took up instinct against design. His body moved then, not from muscle memory, but as if some deeper code had written this moment into the very fibersHis boots ignited sparks across the scorched floor, his every step a scream of resistance against impossibility, his blade trailing light that pulsed like a second heart, running in to the chaos. The monster-instance of his own image, by time and torment-raised a fist the size of a tombstone and every bit of it fell on Oliver, who attempted to fling himself to the left. The sheer force of that impact sent shockwaves through the rock, bursting fissures out across the obsidian floor and launching shards into the air like the jagged wings of a dyi
Chapter One Hundred-Three
Oliver was trudging up the stone stairs with the realization that he was moving painfully slow. The air weighed heavy, and each step felt more strenuous than the previous one. His hands were trembling. His chest felt tight. For no apparent reason. Just a feeling—a gut instinct of bad omen.And then it happened.The Rift didn’t just open within himself. It tore apart.An invisible stroke ran through his chest, like a lightning bolt striking it, but there came no sound. Only the pain: the marvelous, jagged, cutting right through him. He fell on one knee and gasped. The cracked stone of the stair came alive. Then the bubbling began—like wax being melted at the flame's edge.Heat erupted from inside him. First it was orange; then it turned white; now it was blue. The fire pouring from his chest was a tempest: rushing up, a whirl, furious, flashing. It burned quietly, but its heat howled. The sword slipped from Oliver’s grip, falling to the ground with a clang.For something too blinding,
Chapter One Hundred-Two
The light just seems to vanish from out of nowhere. A second ago, there it was-an object glowing brilliantly and warmly-and suddenly, it was all gone. The sky blinked, like an eye closing down. Everything turned to black. Then there were only the stairs. They curled upward. Cold, grey stone. One spiral staircase and no end in sight. It twists into the sky, through clouds of gold and fire. There are no walls-no railings-just air all around and far beneath, nothing. No ground. No sound. No color. No time. Just dark bottomless space..Oliver stood at the bottom of the stairs. Or maybe he was standing there for a long time already. He was not so sure. There was an ache in his chest, like it was torn from inside. Smoke rose from his skin, and his clothes burned and worn away. There was blood dripping from his hands. He tried to breathe, but it hurt. Still, he looked up. All that remained were those stairs. So he stepped forward. Slowly. Cautiously. His foot touched the first step. And t
Chapter One Hundred-One
No noise. No light. Only movement. Only pain. Only war. Oliver opened his eyes, or thought he did; nothing felt different in that place whether he kept them shut or not: no light change, no shapes, no borders, no floor, no sky, nothing but an endless void, pressing in from all sides with pressure like the deepest ocean. But he moved, so something must still exist.Smoke entered his lungs. Ice left his mouth. Every thud of pain in his ribs, pain that etched itself into his bones as fatigue, and yet he managed to keep going. Something else moved, too- around him, behind him, inside him. The monsters had come without the luxury of a warning, without the snarl of rage, or the cry of rage. They had come with silence.The first was but a shadow of a hand--a hand that pulled back from the dark and closed around his throat, its grip a grasp of memory, regret, and betrayal he had never healed from; as he shoved it away with his bare fingers, its form twisted, arms growing long, then thick, onl
Chapter One Hundred
The fall ended prematurely. Oliver hit an unyielding surface and felt all the wind slam out of his lungs. The force from the collision shot up his spine like fire through the nerves. In the darkness, there were no echoes, no sky, no ground—only an endless, choking absence of sound. He coughed. Blood smeared his lips. His fingers trembling, he began to push against the foreign black stone under him.Then he saw it.A space, vast and perfect in shape. A circular polished obsidian, with walls smooth and towering, but with no ceiling—the sky above, gone. Instead, an infinite void opened upward, with stars twisting sluggishly across an empty canvas. A quiet hum vibrated beneath the skin.It was in the center of this bizarre room that a mirror stood.It was higher than any mountain, wider than any battlefield. The frame was a molten silver flowing with red and gold veins that pulsed like living metal. The glass was too transparent, too deep- sheen might not be the appropriate word; it migh
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Each heartbeat pounded in Oliver's ears, almost as if his heart were beating within the recesses of his skull. The pain in his body seemed endless. There was not a part of his body that didn't hurt. His skin, once smooth, now shone with silver cracks running like lightning beneath his armor. It was strange yet felt familiar, a constant reminder of how far he had fallen. His legs felt heavy; his feet dragged across shattered ground as he stumbled onward. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. Each step was a battle, and each breath could have been the last unto his burning lungs, perforated by a kind of abandonment. It was a dull ache haunting Oliver, smoldering within him, refusing to die even if alongside him lay a body yearning for death.He tried to balance again, but the first thing he saw was them breaking through the shadow. Too many limbs had they! Bodies stitched with mismatched pieces of skin. Mouths sewn shut; gone were the eyes, replaced by empty, hollow sockets. C
