[Record: Contribution Assessment Analyzed]
Analyzing combat efficiency…completed
Calculating monster elimination value…completed
Searching for eligible rewards…completed
Record Notification:
Contribution Assessment completed, all calculations have been completed.
You have obtained Skill Rune of Gravity – Legendary (Lv.1). And [6129 CP]
A faint pressure spread around Kaiser as the rune etched itself into his being. It wasn't a sudden explosion of energy—no, it was subtler, almost intimate. The air around him seemed to hum faintly, vibrating with invisible currents, as if reality itself had shifted slightly to acknowledge the new power.
→ Rune of Gravity (Legendary):(Lv.1)
• A rune that governed density and gravitational pressure itself. By exerting its authority, the user could forcibly increase the density of air—and everything contained within it—inside a designated radius. Once activated, gravity would no longer behave naturally, crushing all targets caught within.
• Effective Radius: 500 centimeters.
Kaiser blinked.
"…Gravity?"
He let out a slow breath, disbelief flickering across his face. The rune, this raw, overwhelming power, was now his.
I didn't expect to place first in the Anonymous Ranking, he thought, feeling the faint weight of the CP accumulating in his consciousness. There are countless species far stronger than humans. Physically, mentally, biologically… all superior in ways he could barely comprehend.
Yet the result was undeniable. His hands tightened slightly around the sword hilt. Maybe strength isn't everything, he mused. Maybe I'm just better at killing.
His gaze sharpened, slicing through the remnants of the battlefield with calm precision. Still… this changes things.
The Rune of Gravity wasn't some ordinary ability. It wasn't a minor tool, or a simple enhancement. It was the signature power of the 8th Ranker, Aster, a skill whispered about in countless worlds and feared for its sheer destructive potential. Kaiser had expected something subtle—perhaps stealth, perception, or maybe an Epic-grade support skill.
Instead, he had pulled a Legendary.
A low chuckle escaped him. It wasn't mockery, not arrogance—it was the quiet, measured sound of someone recognizing opportunity. So be it. This is going to be an interesting ride.
Around the battlefield, survivors stared in stunned silence. Their expressions were painted with fear, disbelief, and awe, mixed in ways that left no room for relief. Over six thousand monsters. Twelve hours. And one human. That was all it had taken.
For the first time since the tutorial began, a single thought seemed to echo in everyone's mind, unspoken but universally understood:
This man… is a monster.
Just as murmurs began to ripple through the battlefield, the air itself split open.
A vertical tear of crimson light descended from the sky, a rift that seemed impossibly thin yet impossibly vast. From it stepped another Herald—taller, leaner, its form wrapped in flowing black-gold robes that shimmered like oil on water. The Herald's porcelain mask was etched with countless runes, each pulsing faintly with arcane light as though it were alive, speaking in a language beyond comprehension.
Herald's Voice:
"Silence."
The world obeyed. Even the wind froze mid-gesture. Leaves hung suspended in the air. Birds halted mid-song. And for a heartbeat, time itself felt suspended, holding its breath before the next command.
"Survivors of the First Trial," the Herald continued calmly, its voice threading into every mind with effortless authority, "you have proven your right to exist—for now."
A massive translucent panel unfolded across the sky, shimmering with authority. Its edges flickered, displaying intricate arcane symbols only visible to those who knew to look.
"The Second Trial will commence in two days," the Herald continued, voice low but clear, reverberating in the minds of every participant.
The words settled heavily over the battlefield. Shock rippled through the survivors as the reality of the schedule sank in. Two days—an interlude, a pause, and yet not a moment of real safety.
"During this interval," the Herald added, "all participants will be permitted to return to their original worlds."
A ripple of disbelief and cautious hope spread through the survivors. Some exhaled sharply, shoulders slumping in relief. Others eyed the sky warily, unsure if the reprieve was genuine.
"Use this time as you see fit—rest, prepare, say your farewells, or cling to false hope," it added with indifferent precision. "When the Second Trial begins, all participants will be forcibly recalled."
A brief pause followed, as if the Herald were savoring the rising fear that whispered in the gaps between words.
"Also, from this moment onward, the Shop System will be unlocked."
Panels multiplied across the sky, branching into categories that shimmered faintly:
Equipment
Consumables
Artifacts
Utilities
"Currency used within the Shop is Contribution Points (CP)," the Herald explained. "CP may be obtained through trials, kills, achievements, rankings, and special events."
A pause.
"All survivors of 1st Trial have been granted 1,000 CP."
A soft chime echoed as notifications appeared before every participant. Whispered exclamations broke out: awe, disbelief, relief, and greed all intermingled.
Kaiser's eyes narrowed as he scanned the interface. So this is how they control progression, he thought. A leash disguised as freedom.
Most items were overpriced, absurdly so. Artifacts demanded CP equivalent to months of trial work. Consumables were basic, mundane, yet artificially inflated. But one item caught his attention immediately.
[Obscuring Mask – Common]
Effect: Slightly distorts facial features and suppresses identifying traits.
Passive: Reduces attention and weak hostile targeting.
Cost: 1,000 CP.
Kaiser didn't hesitate. Purchase Confirmed.
The mask materialized in his hand, smooth and matte black, almost weightless. Faint gray lines along its edges hinted at subtle craftsmanship. When he placed it over his face, the world seemed to dim slightly, as if his presence itself had blurred into the environment.
Good, he thought. Standing out too early is a mistake.
The Herald's gaze lingered on him for a half-second longer than necessary, a brief yet deliberate acknowledgment of his presence.
"Spend wisely," it said. "The weak squander their points. The strong invest in survival."
With that, the Herald stepped backward, its body dissolving into motes of black and gold light. Before vanishing completely, it snapped its fingers once more.
In an instant, the battlefield dissolved. All monsters, panels, and debris evaporated, leaving nothing but the sunlit Earth beneath their feet. Participants were returned to their original locations, cities, and familiar grounds, the sky closed seamlessly as if no Trial had occurred.
Kaiser didn't linger. The moment his feet touched solid ground, he turned away from the gathering crowd and began walking. He moved with purpose, blending into the city with ease, unnoticed by anyone.
Two days, he thought. That's all I have.
As he walked, he reviewed his status. Level nine already. Three points per level meant unused potential sitting idle, waiting to be invested. Where should it go?
He considered briefly, then reached a conclusion.
Arcane.
Gravity-based abilities were notoriously demanding. The Rune of Gravity would require Arcane energy to manipulate density and pressure effectively, especially as its level and radius increased. He allocated every remaining stat point into Arcane.
Arcane: 34
A subtle warmth spread through him—nothing dramatic, just a quiet depth, like a reservoir opening slightly wider within. Enough for now, he calculated.
His steps slowed as his thoughts drifted inward, sifting through memories long dormant. Skill Runes. Yes. They would begin appearing naturally on Earth during this interlude phase. Rare, unstable, and highly contested. Most people wouldn't even recognize them for what they were. Yet for him, the right Rune could change the game entirely.
There was one in particular he couldn't afford to miss. The memory of its location surfaced fleetingly, tangled with countless variables: guards, authorities, curious civilians, rival collectors. Each complication increased the risk.
Kaiser exhaled quietly, the sound carrying more determination than fatigue. Annoying or not, I can't let someone else claim it.
And with that, he continued walking, blending seamlessly into the flow of the city, every step measured, every thought deliberate. The world continued, unaware that a human with the power of gravity itself now moved within it, counting the seconds until the next Trial.