Deadworld Isekai

Asadel kicked hard against the ground, exploding backwards and cracking the cobblestone he had been standing on. What was left of the stone after his retreat was promptly crushed into dozens of smaller pieces as a large iron bar struck the ground. If he was slower by a few seconds, it would have been his head and not the stone that was obliterated.

Asadel's subconscious mind urged him to run away. He pushed those thoughts away and charged, raising his razor-sharp sword in the air above his head as he moved forward.

He had fought bigger enemies. He had been more wounded. He had probably been in more danger, if he didn't count his trainers off in the distance and ready to swoop in if things went wrong. This was different. He felt like he might die here.

The iron bar had taken the sharpening enhancement off of his sword in just one hit. The second blow that Asadel blocked numbed his arms. It wasn't the bar itself that was terrifying. It was also the monster that wielded it, a seemingly invulnerable behemoth of gristle and hate pushing him so hard it was all he could do to block.

He swallowed down the fear and put everything he had into this charge. He activated his favorite Blademaster skill, one that had never failed to catch his enemies off guard.

Contact Disarm

When your sword makes contact with an enemy’s weapon with this skill active, an automatic attempt is made to disarm them. Skill effectiveness varies based on enemy combat skills and STR stat compared to your own.

It was deceptively simple. When Asadel first read the description of the skill, he wasn't too impressed. And then he found out how his strength compared to enemies of the same level, and the skill became a game charger. Even when the enemy managed to keep their blade, it still buckled in their hands like it was being jerked away by a gigantic magnet. It'd be an easy win after that.

The skill didn't work on beasts or unarmed demons, but he didn't fight those anyway. It gave everyone else fits.

Here we go. Deal with this, you bastard. Asadel brought the sword down hard, and watched as the iron bar locked into a blocking position. It was perfect. Then, just as the sword was about to make contact, the bar was gone. His opponent was gone. His Blademaster combat skill shouted to his nerves to turn. It was a moment too late for him. A heavy iron bar thrust into his chest, shattering a rib and sending him flying.

“I told ya, didn’t I? Watch the feet,” the old blacksmith cackled at him, "If ya watch the feet, you see where they go before they break your ribs."

More than the pain from his ribs, it was defeat that stung Asadel. “Old man, I didn’t see you look at my feet once that entire time.”

“Didn’t have to, did I? Not with ya swinging that thing like ya were gonna busting up rocks with it.”

The old man was infuriating to fight. It was like doing battle with an elderly ghost who hit like a charging bull but also laughed at you while he danced in between your best moves, as safe as an honest job at an influencer conference.

“I have to. You're stronger than me, and faster than me. How am I going to hit you otherwise?”

The old man laughed again. “Stronger than ya? Faster than ya? I am, but I haven’t been either today, boy. I’ve just been going where ya want to be, or where ya don’t want me to be. Would have thought a smart lad would have figured that out by now.” He motioned over to a bench at the side of the training yard, picking up a water skin and draining a drink from it before tossing it to Asadel as he sat.

“I just don’t think I'm getting it, old man. I’m sorry.” Asadel choked back the rest of his words, I’m not. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for this stupid quest with a good reward, and I need to confirm something.

“It’s not a problem for me, boy. It’s a problem for the one who got his ribs broken. Heh.” The old man flashed his infuriating grin. “Now stop talking for a bit. Catch your breath.”

Asadel had not only already caught his breath already, but in fact, his rib was already mostly healed from the old man’s attack. A side benefit of being a Blademaster. But the old man didn’t need to know that. He sat for a half minute, planning his next angle of attack.

“Old man, what do you know about the system? Why does it do things?” When Asadel first landed on the planet, he was surprised to find that the residents of Ra'Zor also knew about the system. In fact, the system also gave the residents strength. Too much in the case of this old man.

The old man picked the water skin back up, taking another slug. “Plenty. Everyone does. It runs the show, ya see. Hard to miss it.”

“It must have treated you pretty well, for you to be as strong as you are,” Asadel said.

“I’m as strong as I am because I use what I have, boy. Because I’ve learned.” He looked thoughtfully down at Asadel and hesitated a moment before speaking again, “And the system does what it does because it wants what it wants. It doesn’t treat anyone well.”

Bullshit, Asadel thought. It treated Brennan pretty well.

“But you trust it?” Asadel asked, “If it offered you some big, crazy quest with some big, crazy reward, would you do it?”

“Trust isn't right. The system does what it says it will do, eventually. But only that.” The old man suddenly examined Asadel’s face intently, like he was trying to read something from it. “Did the system promise ya something big? Some big job?”

Asodel waved his hands in front of his chest, palms out. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m just eager to get stronger, and the system is the way to do that.”

“Ya right and ya wrong. The system gives power, but doesn't teach how to use it. Focus. Like instead of swinging this like a sledgehammer,” said the old man as he tapped Asadel's sword with his index finger, “It's a tool for killing.”

I get it, old man. But that’s not going to help me when Brennan has a five-year lead on levels and skills. I need to get stronger now.

The old man must have picked up something from Asadel’s face because, at that moment, he seemed to lose interest in training anymore that day.

“Go home, boy. Rest. Think about what I said today, if any ideas can get through ya thick skull.”

“Got it. And thank you, old man,” Asadel once again swallowed the rest of his words, give me my quest rewards, you old coot. I’m in a hurry.

Asadel picked up his sword and threw the scabbard’s strap over his shoulder, moving off. He was ten paces away when the old man shouted at him one last time.

“Asadel, wait.” Asadel looked over his shoulder at the old man, expectantly. “I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve seen people come around asking the same kinds of questions ya just did. About the system. About weird quests. Ya know what happens to them?”

Asadel shrugged.

“They disappear. Talk to your advisor. An older offworlder. Think about it,” the old man sounded sad.

Doing his best to look introspective, Asadel nodded slowly, then moved away. It wouldn’t do any good if the old man got wise and told Brennan or Artemis about this, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell them himself. This quest was all for him. It wasn’t any of their business.

He didn’t get the quest reward from the old man, but that didn’t matter. There would be other training quests. Better training quests. What he did get was two pieces of important information. First, the system would live up to its word. The crusty old fart wasn’t the kind of person who pulled punches. He would have told him if the system ever lied. He didn’t, so Asadel knew he could count on the rewards being real, as outlandish as they might seem.

Second, the old man said people who asked the same kinds of questions tended to disappear.

Good, Asadel thought. That’s exactly what I want.

—

Pay for junior adventurers was generous. Most of Asadel's liquid cash came from loot from various demons. The level of demons that Asadel was allowed to fight generally didn't carry equipment, instead they relied on weak magical attacks or their natural physical bodies like animals. But demons were so rich in magic that even their body parts were in high demand, and having a claim to those that he slew left him pretty loaded.

Besides that, he drew a salary from the local government. It wasn’t much compared to the loot itself, but even just that source of income was high enough that he could eat whatever he wanted, afford equipment maintenance, and live in fairly nice lodgings.

Even considering all that income, the meal laid out in front of him had made a dent in his pocketbook. Meat? He had the finest steak the town could offer, delivered to his room and cooked in front of him. He had cakes, cookies, artisan breads, noodle dishes, and no less than five kinds of soup.

If this transfer was anything like his last one, he doubted he’d end up in the same body. The system had spelled out that his stats and class would carry over. That left a loophole where his buffs might also transfer with him. If so, this would be well worth it. His class rewarded him for both the rarity of the food he ate and also the expertise that went into its preparation.

Asadel had no doubt that his meal would leak to his handlers, and they’d probably put two and two together and know that he was up to something. It would take time, however, and at first, they’d be watching to catch him leaving the town. By the time they realized he wasn’t, it would be too late.

He tucked in to the meal. He never held back on food, but the sheer amount in play here was a lot, even for him. By the time he was done, he could literally feel VIT holding him together. At the end of the meal, he forced down a final bite of cookies before laying down on his bed, bloated and highly uncomfortable.

Ding!

Over-full Tank

You have eaten a meal that vastly exceeds your normal diet, both in terms of size and quality. While the system can do nothing to help you with the very real physical discomfort you might feel from the meal, your class appreciates the effort.

Temporary Buff: +20% to all physical stats, physical attacks strike as if dealt by objects (or body parts) 20% heavier than their actual weight.

He had packed light, in that he hadn’t packed at all. The system had been pretty clear that wouldn’t be helpful. He laid in bed before he heard the first bang on his door, and a combination of voices that indicated both Artemis and Brennan had tracked his meal back to him. It was too late to stop him now. He could leave with a simple mental “yes” to the system prompt that had filled his every waking thought for days.

Martial Missionary

Another world is facing a threat, and it’s doing it alone. With no heroes to protect it, the entire realm has fallen under the control of a single power. They roam where they want, do what they will, and have the power to command every thinking being that walks the surface of the planet. Where they see something they want, they take it. Where they see life they do not control, they kill.

The system instance leading the world has called for a young hero, one strong enough to take down the threat. If you accept, you (and only you) will be transferred to the planet Gaia. Your level, stats, skills, and class will be preserved, but you will rely on equipment provided by the system on your arrival.

Rewards:

Upon completion of the mission to eradicate this being, you will be granted a new mission, one of your own choosing from a wide selection of worlds, with plenty of information on the status of each world. You will also be provided with a title or titles based on your performance, each carrying a powerful percentage-based stat buff.

Disclosure:

Due to interference in communications with the Gaia-assigned system instance, further details on the mission are not available. While the level of the threat is guaranteed to be within a reasonable range of your own, acceptance of this quest comes with a tacit acknowledgement that the hero does not need further details.

Who needs more details? This is fantastic.

Asadel would get everything he wanted, and that would start before he wiped out the planet’s demon lord. Primary hero status? Check. A real, actually important mission? Check. A new, cushy assignment on a planet that required him enough to respect him like he deserved? Check.

It wasn’t a hard decision. He waited until Brennan and Artemis finally bashed down the door, just so he could see the look of surprise on their faces as he accepted the quest. He took a deep breath and vanished.