I was a prophesied hero.
The sheer, magnificent absurdity of it was a drug. The world, in its desperate need for a champion, had seen my chaotic, violent arrival and mistaken it for a divine gift. The 'Great Hunt' of the old world was replaced by a 'Holy Crusade' in the new, with me as the sacred prize they were all fighting to claim.
This changed my entire strategy. My plan had been to hide, to grow in the shadows, a king in a lonely abyss. That was the path of a monster.
But the path of a god is so much more efficient.
Why hide when I could be worshipped? Why steal power in the dark when it could be offered to me on a silver platter in the light?
I looked at the Lyra-doll, who I had placed gently on a mossy stone. Her new porcelain form was a masterpiece of magical craftsmanship, but it was also a vulnerability. A walking, talking piece of impossible magic that would draw far too much attention in this new, primitive world.
"Lyra," I said, my voice gentle. "You are not yet ready for the world. Your new body is delicate, your soul is still mending. You will remain in my inventory for now. A private, safe space. I will bring you out when it is time."
A flicker of fear—of being alone again, of the dark—crossed her telepathic expression.
"You will not be alone," I reassured her, a calculated lie that was also a strange truth. "You are a part of my System now. You will be aware. You will see what I see. You will be my silent witness."
She seemed to understand. With a soft nod, I dematerialized her, her porcelain form dissolving into light and flowing into my inventory. The ghost in my machine was now, quite literally, a ghost in my machine.
With Lyra secured, I was free to become the man this world wanted me to be.
My destination was no longer a hidden sanctuary. It was the camp of the crusaders, the zealous guards of Lady Elara, who were currently scouring the mountains for their "Fallen Star."
I shed the persona of the weary vagabond. I stood tall, my shoulders back. I allowed a fraction of my true, sovereign aura to leak out—not the dark hunger, but the sheer, undeniable presence of a being beyond mortal comprehension. I appeared not as a demon, but as a god in mortal flesh.
Finding them was easy. They were a noisy, clumsy procession, their faith far outstripping their tracking skills. I didn't approach them. I let them find me.
I stood on a high, sun-drenched cliff, my back to them, looking out over the valley as if I were contemplating the fate of the world.
"There! By the Sunstone!" one of them shouted. "It's him!"
They scrambled up the cliff, their armor clanking. They fell to their knees before me, their faces a mixture of awe, reverence, and holy terror.
"You… you are the one from the vision," the captain stammered, the same man I had seen in the manor courtyard. "The Fallen Star. The Sun God's gift."
I turned, my expression serene, benevolent, and faintly sad. "I am what I am," I said, my voice resonating with a quiet power. "A traveler, sent to a world in need."
"Then the prophecy is true!" the captain cried, his eyes filling with tears of joy. "You have come to save us! To cure our lord, Baron Von Hess!"
I looked at him with profound, divine pity. "The fate of a single man is but a ripple in the great river of destiny. But yes. I can help him. Take me to him."
My return to the town of Hess was a triumph. I was no longer an infiltrator, a thief in the shadows. I was a messiah, escorted by a retinue of weeping, zealous knights. The townsfolk poured into the streets, falling to their knees as I passed. They saw what they wanted to see: a savior.
Lady Elara met me at the gates of her manor. The proud, desperate noblewoman was now a humble, hopeful supplicant. She knelt before me, her red hair like a flame against the dusty ground.
"You have come," she whispered. "The gods have answered my prayers."
"Stand, my lady," I said, my voice gentle. I had stolen her doll, her handkerchief, and her god's amulet. Now, I would steal her faith. "There is much to be done."
I was led to the Baron's bedchamber. He was a husk of a man, his skin pale, his breathing shallow. The wasting sickness was a potent magical curse, one that was slowly devouring his life force.
To the local physicians, it was incurable. To me, it was lunch.
I placed my hand on the Baron's forehead. I feigned a deep, spiritual concentration. The room filled with a warm, golden light that I manifested from my own latent energy, a theatrical flourish to sell the "holy" nature of the act.
I was not healing him. I was eating the curse.
The dark, necrotic energy of the sickness flowed into me, a delicious, complex meal of forbidden magic. My broken System, though unable to properly catalog it, recognized it as a power source. The corruption was filtered, converted into a raw, usable energy that began to mend the fractured pathways of my own soul and body.
After a few minutes, the flow stopped. The curse was gone.
I removed my hand. Color returned to the Baron's cheeks. His breathing deepened. His eyes fluttered open, clear and lucid for the first time in months.
The "miracle" was complete.
Lady Elara let out a choked sob of pure, unadulterated joy and gratitude. She threw herself at my feet, pledging her life, her family, her entire barony to my cause.
[FAVORABILITY CHANGE DETECTED: Lady Elara Von Hess - STATUS IS NOW 'FANATICALLY DEVOTED'.]
[You have gained a 'Hero-Worshipper'. She will carry out any command without question and will act as your primary champion in this new world.]
This was so much easier than ruling through fear.
In the days that followed, my legend exploded. The story of the miraculous healing of Baron Von Hess spread like wildfire. The "Fallen Star" was not just a prophecy; he was a true, divine healer.
My shameless System, ever the opportunist, adapted to my new role.
[SOVEREIGN'S WHIM (CORRUPTED): THE SHEPHERD'S DUTY]
Description: Your new champion, Elara, is spiritually vulnerable and yearns for your guidance. Solidify your divine authority by performing a 'Blessing' ritual.
Objective: Anoint her forehead with holy water (or any water you happen to have) and recite a meaningless, divine-sounding platitude. This will cement her belief in your divinity.
Reward: Unlocks the 'Crusade' faction (Unofficial), +500 SP (recalibrated).
I performed the "blessing" that evening in the chapel. She wept with gratitude. My System Points, which had been at zero, now had a new source. The belief and devotion of others was a form of energy my corrupted system could now process and convert. I was literally feeding on their faith.
My power base was now secure. I had a fanatical champion, a fortified manor to use as my headquarters, and the unquestioning adoration of an entire town. I could have stayed there for years, slowly building my power.
But the world was large, and my ambition was larger.
My next step was to acquire true, world-altering power. And I knew just where to find it. The Sun-Drop Root that had been sent to the capital was still out there. It was a legendary ingredient, far more potent than the amulet I had stolen. It would be my next great feast.
I spent the next few days consolidating my influence, using my "divine insight" to solve minor problems for the townsfolk, further cementing my legend. I was playing the part of a benevolent god, and it was a role that came with incredible benefits.
But as I began to formulate a plan to "prophesy" the root's location and send my new crusade to acquire it for me, my broken System, which had been quietly rebooting and recalibrating itself since my arrival, finally stabilized enough to perform a proper scan of the local area.
The notification that appeared was a shocking reminder that this new world had its own players, its own history, and its own dangers. And the twist was not just that a new faction was in play. It was that they were inextricably linked to the very foundation of my new life here, and they were a threat I could have never anticipated.
[...SYSTEM RECALIBRATION AT 5%...]
[Local Area Scan complete.]
[WARNING: A 'Karmic Blood-Pact' has been detected, linked to the Von Hess bloodline.]
[ANALYSIS: Centuries ago, the Von Hess family made a pact with a high-tier magical entity in exchange for their prosperity and noble title.]
[The 'wasting sickness' that afflicted the Baron was not a curse. It was the price of the pact. The entity was collecting its due.]
[Your 'healing' of the Baron was an act of theft. You have stolen the entity's rightful meal.]
[CONCLUSION: You have just, very loudly and very publicly, defaulted on a contract with a being known in the local lore as 'The Collector of Oaths'.]
[PROBABILITY OF RETRIBUTION: 100%.]