The village itself wore the shedded skin of its former, grander self. Wide central roads slithered through the skeletons of an old marketplace that once was too narrow for all its space-hogging vendors and competing rickshaw pullers.
When the day began, only about two out of ten sagging houses reawakened. The temples remained muted—no one there to strike the dusty bells, nor was there an unbroken wooden beam to strike with.
Outside the village, lying at the foot of Mount Fond, was a small forest far more lively in comparison. Marua's forest: the villagers named it. The word meant round head, and the forest got its name from how its primary residents all had neat round heads.
Said hordes of Maruas reanimated the slumbering forest with chatters of squeaks, squawks, and honks, sharing their morning greetings and nightly events. Today's topic of gossip was the new face that had shown up during the dead of the night and took the life of one of their troops.
A few stronger members hurried across the forest, swinging from branch to branch, until they made it to the front of the mountain, where its wall caved in at one spot. There, standing in front of the cave, was the murderer. The lanky creature stood before a small pile of dirt. The Maruas could smell the scent of their deceased kin, buried under the soil.
The Maruas also noted the threat wasn't by himself. Another tall, almost hairless creature lay fast asleep beside him as he raised a long tool and stabbed it into the ground. The tool clashed against the hard ground with a loud clank that scattered away the peeking eyes.
Cyrus felt the shock spurting through the shaft of the shovel, his muscles, before spiking at his joints. A few Maruas shrieked among trees some distance away, seemingly mocking him.
[ -2.99% HP (Light Physical Damage Taken) ]
[ Warning! Your HP has dropped below half. ]
He ignored the strain in his body along with the warning flashing across his vision conjured by [Mortal Eyes], and continued his morning exercise: digging a grave. Well, he didn't have to actually dig one, just enough to make it seem like he was in the process. As of now, his effort remained barely noticeable with just a few scratches on the ground.
A weary groan escaped him, echoing through the still part of the forest. He directed [Mortal Eyes] toward the incarnated headache of his, who wore a serene look on his clean-cut face.
[ Revive Summoned Hero Ye Yaoming. Expire in {21:13:12}. (300 Faith) ]
"I bet the devs were giggling like cheeky little shits when they coded this. Fuck them and their entire lineage." He clicked his tongue at the taunting text where numbers counted down until his 5-Star card would be shredded into pieces.
He’d curse out every single one of them a gazillion more times, but right now, Cyrus was the one who ended up the most thoroughly fucked. Salvation and Beyond had flown far beyond his expectations with the little stunt his first Hero had pulled.
Hell difficulty: stronger enemies, weaker start? Tedious, painful grinding? Permanent death? Not to mention the insane Gacha system. Cyrus knew what he signed up for, but now it was crystal clear: his na?ve past self didn't know shit at all.
When he first heard about the game, he had been excited, expecting to be able to play as the Heroes he had pulled. Then he found out they were all NPCs driven by their own character AI. The Loyalty mechanics further confirmed that handling the Heroes wouldn't be so easy, but this.
Cyrus didn't know what to make of it.
Sure, if a person had gone through what Yaoming did, they were prone to make the same move as him, and Cyrus would have approached them with care and caution. But despite everything, this was a game.
A freaking game.
What kind of diabolical developer would program the player's very first Summoned Hero to take their own life just because the Hero wasn't quite happy about their Isekai?
"Unhappiness, my feet," he grumbled. "Maybe in a better world, you can refuse to do your purpose just because you're unhappy."
Cyrus had expected temper tantrums, verbal and physical threats, and maybe even a first mini-boss fight that he might not necessarily win to tame the wild white fox in the process, but the guy just straight up deleted himself and logged out with a damned smile on his face!
Looking back, he would have handled that better if he'd known the Hero would be so willful.
"Should have started by gaslighting him that he died, and that Mo Tian saved his departing soul." Cyrus rubbed his brows.
He could make up something about sealing Yaoming's memories of his death and the fall of Sumiya for the Hero's own sake. Yaoming didn't know what kind of God Mo Tian was, or what He was capable of.
Hell, even Cyrus didn't know the extent of his ability and what he could do if his Godhood hadn't been sealed. Surely, he could do a bit more than just isekai.
He might have also pissed Yaoming off too much in an attempt to glaze his higher self.
Hindsight was indeed a wonderful thing.
"I just didn't expect him to just—ugh. I'm going to find out exactly who decided this was a good idea once I'm out of here." He just hoped he’d remember by then.
If Yaoming keeps this up, I sure will.
Taking in the picture of regret starring Yaoming, Cyrus's gaze drifted toward a trail of giant red ants lining up to feed on his pricey Hero's dried blood, and a grumpy sigh escaped him.
"Absolute bananas," he spat, getting worked up yet again. "But did they have to make it so realistic? If a game is so real, what even is the point? If you want to suffer, you can just go play this totally free game called 'Real Life'. Lesson learned, I guess."
The problem was said lesson might just cost him his entire fortune. He would try a different approach if he could go back in time, but it still didn't guarantee that Yaoming could be persuaded with a better script from a better mind.
He could go for the empath route to de-escalate Yaoming's emotions. 'Yeah, dude. The god totally sucks; that's just how gods are, man. So sorry your world's a goner, but please don't kill yourself.' Or, beg Yaoming to play along until another Hero had been summoned. Little chance of that since Yaoming did what he did, knowing that not helping might result in great loss for this world.
Either would buy him time to try to change Yaoming's action. To have a proper shot at actually convincing Yaoming to save Hollow Rift, Cyrus needed Sumiya still standing, waiting for the return of the strongest, even if Cyrus himself wasn't so sure about that.
Earlier, he had Moshi check inside Moonglade Realm, and Yaoming's card wasn't there, so Sumiya wasn't technically there either, even though the Archon could apparently sense its residual presence somehow. Moshi claimed they didn't know what that meant, saying Mo Tian never really cared before, and that sealed Sumiya in a closed box—its stage unknown.
Regardless, both options were invalid to Cyrus since they required him to stomp on Mo Tian's face in the process. Cyrus was the First Apostle of Mo Tian before he was Cyrus. If he didn't protect Mo Tian's face and preached a greater cause to His action, even if the god went around kicking dogs and punching kitties, who would? If even His Apostle refused to defend him, at least on the surface, what would make Mo Tian if not pathetic?
Cyrus needed to think long-term.
A third script had better chances: convince Yaoming that Sumiya might be fine, and that he only had to please the god a bit to go back home. False hope could keep him alive. This was the script he scratched initially because he wanted sincerity. At this point, he couldn't afford to care anymore.
He had reflected and wrecked his brain, but, of course, Yaoming could still slap him with a simple 'fuck your god, I'm out'. After all, the guy looked pretty done playing Hero.
"A time loop ability sure would be nice," he mused. He was somewhat curious about the different outcomes based on his approach.
There had been rumors circling about future multiplayer updates where players could choose all sorts of gods. If he could choose which god to play, let's just say an Isekai god wouldn't be his first choice. Depending on other people wasn't his thing, and playing as a Time god sounded more fun. Plus, he'd always liked the regressor trope.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
While he couldn't regress, he could just log out and start a new save. But, as worked up as he might be, things weren't that serious—at least he didn't think so. He might not get the same Heroes on a new save anyway. Maybe he would get a better roll. Or maybe this was the better roll.
So, he simply convinced himself that the current situation was still acceptable for this run where he pulled a Yaoming.
Cyrus looked down.
His hands were now jiggling like two long strips of overcooked jelly. Without checking, he knew his Stamina had dipped too low. From what he'd observed so far, he recovered only about seven or so Stamina in one hour if he remained seated and rested during the hour. It was more or less the same for his HP when he wasn't bleeding. Both had terrible recovery rates, and the suspected culprit was his shitty 1-Star stats.
With yet another sigh, he tossed away the shovel he'd 'obtained' from his earlier visit to the village and crouched to slap the ants away from Yaoming.
"Go away," he barked. "I spent Faith on it, it's mine."
Then, he moved his finger up to poke at the pale, cold face of the Hero, but his finger froze inches before. It felt wrong to touch something so flawless with his soiled hand.
Looking at his dead first Hero, he couldn't resist the urge to grunt again. Revival cost three hundred Faith, and he just so happened to have exactly that right now. Clearly, the developers had seen this coming.
What pained him was the fact that a quick thought about the unchosen Heroes revealed that their Redemption cost went up by the rarity, starting at fifty for a 1-Star, a hundred for a 2-Star, and the ransom of a 3-Star Hero was...exactly three hundred Faith! Here, if he picked the 3-Star Hero, he would have to spend 1500 Fate instead to redeem the unchosen 5-Star Hero.
He couldn't be too happy about that at the moment, however, thanks to the thought that he could have been two Heroes under his name right now. Instead, he was forced to choose between the 5-Star and the 3-Star again—only now he knew exactly what he was betting on.
"Did the devs really plan this?" Cyrus even suspected whether the Heroes in the first ten pulls were fixed since the trap seemed perfect, tailored to screw an average gamer like him.
Now, if he didn't spend to resurrect Yaoming before the timer ended, the Hero would permanently die. Lost forever. Who knew how long he'd have to grind for another ten-pull to get a better Hero.
Plus, he was too stubborn. Yaoming had flipped his switch with that showdown, and Cyrus wanted to fix that guy up even if it cost him. Still, he had to make sure he wouldn't lose too much—he had a job to do and a True Ending to witness.
If he revived Yaoming only for the guy to kill himself again, it would waste him all the Faith he'd invested in the Hero, and with no Hero to his company, he'd be forced to grind the early-game solo.
That was exactly why Cyrus needed to dig, and so he sat down for an hour or so to recover just enough Stamina before getting back up to dig, and dig, and dig, despite the lingering weakness and even when the world spiraled and colors exploded like he'd taken a few of those funny pills from Gilda.
By the time Cyrus managed to lower a rectangular area into the ground, piling a small hill of dirt aside near the smaller mound where he had buried his dinner, the Crimson Sun was already on full display in all its glory. It loomed high above like the oppressive Red Empress the world had named it. Chances were Red Empress was the very same Sun he'd lowered and split to summon the Heroes.
Cyrus tilted his bamboo hat down to cover his face in its cool shadow before wiping the small streams of sweat running down his brows and neck with the back of his hand. Looking down at his hands from the higher perspective over his head, he finally noticed that the cloth around his fingers was colored in a solid shade of red now. The layers of his robe were also soaked in enough sweat to fill a bucket.
"OK. This should be enough," Cyrus sighed, fanning himself with his wide sleeve. "I can't be bothered to do anymore than this. My back's killing me."
Since that time he got beaten up to an inch of his life, his back had been demanding more care about his posture. The condition seemed to have carried over, either a coincidence, or a 'gift' from the game for realism. Plus, he was starting to feel hungry again since he was too busy gathering and snooping around the village and getting back here that he didn't have the chance to loot anything to eat this morning. Sadly, the village didn't have food lying around in plain sight.
"Time to wake up, you lazybones. Your story is not over until the world's saved," Cyrus declared, stretching and cracking his neck. He hugged the shovel in his arms, turned away from the Hero, and pressed yes to spend the last of his Faith on him.
[ 300 Faith spent! Reviving Summoned Hero Ye Yaoming in {00:00:29}. ]
At this point, it was much safer—and arguably smarter—to choose the 3-Star Hero and let the headache of the 5-Star rest in peace, but Cyrus simply couldn't bring himself to do that. There was no such thing as forgo in his dictionary; what was already his was forever his. Plus, he really needed a DPS—a proper one, unlike the unlucky 3-Star stuck under some monster carcass or the wimpy Summoned Hero Cyrus who might faint before he got a kill.
So, go big, or go home.
Cyrus raised his shovel in an act to stab at the ground again when he heard rustling of clothes from behind. He put on a frown and instantly turned around, swinging his shovel to point slightly to the left of the slowly awakening man.
"Who goes there?!" he shouted, stumbling a step forward with the shovel stretched out.
With a yap, Yaoming snapped awake, eyes flailing wide open. The revived Hero blinked in confusion, rising as he tried to make sense of his situation, but Cyrus wouldn't let that happen now.
He audibly gulped, hesitating half a step back before he tightened his grip around the shovel and struck without a question or a warning. He lowered his aim, directing it at Yaoming's shoulder as if he'd only missed the fatal strike at his neck unintentionally.
"Demon," he accused. "Leave the Honorable Hero's body right this instant!"
Yaoming's hand flew to the sword Cyrus had conveniently placed on his side. Next thing Cyrus knew, pain shot through his wrist. The shovel was smacked out of his hands before he could blink. It took flight, rolled across the ground a bit with a loud sequence of clangs, and finally landed somewhere far out of his sight.
[ -5.97% HP (Moderate Physical Damage Taken) ]
Cyrus's eyes, or whatever was left of them, shook underneath the blindfold, his face twisting in surprise and in pain as he hissed. The pain did little to upset him. In contrary, he was actually quite happy.
So he does still have his survival instincts. Good, good.
"Demonic thing!" Cyrus cursed, anger in his voice, while his chest remained light with relish. "I will drive you out of his body myself!"
His right hand reached for his left hip to draw. Sparks of electricity stabbed into his palms like needles as he unsheathed the sword sealed somewhere in his soul. Pain shot through his wrist, and heat twisted his heart.
[ -2.99% HP (Light Physical Damage Taken ) ]
Cyrus gritted his teeth at the phantom taste of metal on his tongue. He'd recovered a bit from rest, but his body was in no condition to fight. Still, even with trembling hands, he raised his sword, water droplets collecting at the edge where a blue sheen glowed.
Yaoming only grunted, rubbing at his temple. "It's me," the silver-haired Hero groaned.
"Huh? You?" Cyrus's sword flinched. "I—No, you will not fool me, demon! I confirmed hours ago that Hero Yaoming had passed away."
"Your accursed god brought me back," Yaoming spat, stating the situation less to Cyrus and more to himself as he concluded, "Hell. This is hell."
Cyrus wanted to agree that this was indeed Hell difficulty, or else why would he be having such a bad time, but he kept his mouth shut and hands still. He simply stared down in contemplation, or at least looked like he was weighing the truth in Yaoming's words.
"What did I do wrong? Why does this keep happening?" Yaoming murmured, his voice much weaker than he looked. The murmur grew fainter and fainter until it was barely audible. "Haven't I been...g...enough?"
"Is it actually you?" Cyrus questioned, disregarding his moping. "How am I supposed to believe that? Can he—I mean, can He actually bring the truly dead back to life?"
Yaoming seemed like he had been completely ignoring Cyrus the entire time, but at his questions, the Hero moved. He gripped the silver sheath of his sword and pulled. A familiar bright light beamed from the blade—undoubtedly, the Blessing of Hope.
"It's me," he said with a snort. His voice was low, colored with disappointment. "And here I was hoping I had become a demon, as you say."
Humorless snickering left the silver-haired man, and Cyrus's stomach churned. The sound of laughter was as distasteful as it was concerning. With a soft exhale to steel himself, he tightened his grip around his sword and stepped forward until he was merely a step away from Yaoming.
Looming over the silver-haired man, he lifted his blade, shimmering with a weaker, calmer light. The edge of the blade met Yaoming's pale neck, where not a trace of the cut that had taken his life lingered.
Yaoming looked up. And for the first time, he actually met Cyrus's gaze with his brilliant golden eyes, now an empty shade of lackluster yellow. "What?" he scorned, his voice unshaken.
"Even a god..." Cyrus started slow, speaking deliberately. "Even God Father has to acknowledge the impermanent nature of us mortals. He may not be able to bring the dead back with little care. There's likely a condition to it. Suicide..."
He paused in difficulty. "Many who believe in fate and heaven’s order see it as a sin. And more importantly, killing ourselves could be a breach of our deal with God Father, which allows Him to bring you back to life. If I kill you, it's a 'natural' death. Maybe then, he wouldn't be able to—"
"You?" With an expressionless face, Yaoming cracked the fakest laugh Cyrus had ever heard, and he'd heard plenty. "You will kill me?"
Just then, what Cyrus was hoping for with his finger crossed showed itself.
[ Aptitude The Blinded Sage Active. ]
Cyrus kept his face heavy and his joy hidden. "You truly want to die," he stated solemnly with a firm nod. "I can grant you that, can I not? Nothing is stopping me. God Father isn't. At least not yet."
Yaoming's eyes lowered and went past Cyrus to the upturned patch of ground. Cyrus coughed as if he felt Yaoming's gaze leaving him.
"That... I was planning to bury you there. I can't give you a proper burial, but I've heard from the village nearby that the mountain behind us once homed a merciful goddess. The goddess has fallen to the greed of men while trying to save Her worshippers from an Insanity. This will be a decent resting ground. Or do you prefer the ocean? I can do that if you don't mind being carried by me."
Silence echoed back and forth between the two for a while before Yaoming finally spoke.
"What do you think will happen to a servant who wrecks his master's sword under his very gaze?"
Cyrus held his breath for good measure. "...I know the Master wouldn't respond to that by breaking another that is His. What's gone is gone, I'm sure He knows that. Still, I know I'm troubling my God Father, and for that I will take any punishment He gives. This is my choice."
[ Summoned Hero Ye Yaoming's Morale has risen to 10. ]
"Give him trouble," Yaoming murmured as he got up to his feet.
A faint smile crept up on Cyrus's face, gone the instant it appeared. He extended his hand to the rising Hero, which went ignored just as he'd expected.
"Death," the Hero spoke firmly, standing dangerously close to Cyrus, looming half a head taller. His fury-filled breath brushed across Cyrus's face. "Comes easy. I don't need your help to get myself there." With a weak smirk, he continued, "If I'm in hell, it seems so is your God Father. An unruly servant and a useless sword...
"I will enjoy seeing how he saves his world after dooming mine until true death comes for me."
Bonus Chapter Goals:
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- Reviews count as 2
- Rising Star Main