A group of eight people stood before a ravaged ground that stretched to the horizon. There were no clashing sounds of attacks, screams of agony or spraying of blood... Only a silence that felt like dread, suffocating. Stench of blood lingered in the air. Lifeless bodies scattered everywhere.
"What just happened here? How did all of our soilders die?" A man in his fifties asked, his eyes wide with bewilderment.
"Look over there." Suddenly another person from the group shouted.
All eyes darted in a direction. A man stood among a pile of corpses.
"What?! Hurry up." The man standing at the front shouted. He was wearing high quality robes and a crown that made him stand apart even in that group of people where everyone looked like man of power.
He rushed toward that single man standing and everyone followed.
When they got closer, they could finally see what had happened. And it made all of them freeze in their spots.
A single man stood before them. His eyes were lifeless, body fully motionless. Yet those two blood drenched swords in both his hands sent a chill down all their spines. His body was riddled with spears and swords yet he stood like a mountain, his presence pressing down all of them.
One person from the group walked even closer and put two fingers below his nostrils. "He's dead." The man said in a trembling voice.
"He... He didn't single handedly slaughter everyone here, did he?" Another person asked, his voice stammering.
Finally the man with the crown spoke. "You can't tell who this person is?"
"Your Grace, you know this person?"
The man with the crown nodded. "Who else can defy the heavens? Who else can still stand with pride even after death? Who else can still have a lingering smile after fighting thousands on his own? It's the legend himself. Ronan Sleinger."
Everyone staggered back in fear. Just that name alone was enough to fill their hearts with fear.
"Zacharia, have you brought the mirror of fate with you?"
"Yes, your grace."
"Good. Bring it out and drop Ronan's blood in it. Let's see him in real action. Till now, I have just heard stories about him."
The person named Zacharia swallowed. He shakily walked forward and collected two drops of blood from the person who stood there like a grim reaper.
A ring on his index finger glowed, and suddenly a light flashed out. Then a two-meter-tall, one-meter-wide mirror materialized before them.
Zacharia then carefully dropped those two drops of blood over the Mirror.
The moment the blood touched the surface....
A ripple.
And then....
A chaos.
A man could be seen hovering in the air. A great sword rested in his right hand, its tip pointing toward the sky. And multiple blades covered the sky. It was Ronan. He swung his sword down. Right then, all those blades rained down. Some soldiers tried to run, some tried to defend. But all who came in front of those blades died instantly.
Someone shot toward Ronan in the sky. His aura alone told how formidable he was. An 8th level god ascension realm cultivator. He thrust his sword forward, and a beam of spiritual energy shot toward Ronan. The space distorted as if failing to endure its destructiveness.
But Ronan still kept floating, unbothered. Just before that beam of energy could struck him, he threw a casual punch. The beam scattered into fragments of light, dispersing in different directions. Ronan followed with a sword slash. A crescent arc of energy shot forward, cleaving the attacker in half. Everyone watching the scene gulped nervously.
The battle raged on.
Many more attacked him at once. But all faced the same fate.
Ronan looked like a tiger, masacaring amidst the flock of sheeps.
The man with the crown and all his companions watched the horror, their eyebrows barely fluttering as if they didn't want to miss a single moment. They could barely believe what they were witnessing.
"He... He's a monster." Someone whispered.
Inside the mirror, suddenly, a person appeared behind Ronan and thrust a sword that pierced his back. For some reason, Ronan failed to dodge that. The attacker was a renowned general, a person at the 8th stage of the God Ascension Realm.
Blarrghhh! Blood gushed out from Ronan's mouth.
But the next moment...
A silver flash.
And then....
The attacker's head flew away. Dead.
But that would slowed down Ronan's movement greatly as blood continued to gush out. But Ronan didn't stop. He stormed left and right like a tsunami, his blades sending his opponents to their last destination.
Suddenly another spear struck Ronan from the back. He tilted his head and swung his blade. A swift arc of spiritual energy shot out killing the spear thrower instantly. But before Ronan could tilt his head back three more weapons struck him from the front one after another.
Ronan still didn't bow his head and let out a angry scream. His attacks became even fiercer as he continued to send more opponents to their death's door. But his movements slowly grew slower. The sharpness of his attacks started to fall. And finally five opponents joined hands and delivered a coordinated attack. Ronan's blades didn't show any mercy either as they killed those five without any mistake. But Ronan's fierceness started to fade. His limbs stopped moving. He was about to fall but those weapons pierced in his chest stopped him from collapsing.
The battle finally came to an end. Yet there was no one alive to celebrate the victory.
Minutes passed after that battle had ended, but still..... No one spoke.
That man with the crown and all his companions started at the mirror in a daze.
Finally the man at the front broke the silence.
"I wish we were never in the opposing side." His right hand raised into a salute. This was the utmost respect one could show toward another person.
And here he was, showing it to his enemy. The very same person who had slaughtered his whole army.
"The world might never come across a genius like him ever again. His name will echo throughout the history." Another person added.
......
Meanwhile Ronan.... From whose eyes, light had totally vanished suddenly felt his body falling in a abyss. "What the!!! What's going on?"
He instinctively tried to move his limbs but strangely nothing listened.
And then suddenly he felt hitting a rock bottom. But there was no pain.
The sensation in his limbs returned. He could again feel the breeze brushing against his skin.
He slowly opened his eyes. What welcomed him was a totally unfamiliar place.
"Where am I? Am I still alive? Or is this what feels like life after death?" He whispered.
Before he could try process further what was happening.....
A scream!
"Young master. You are awake!"
Ronan looked at his side. A middle aged woman in strange cloths sat beside her. Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks.
"I will inform Miss right away." Before Ronan could say anything, she said that and left the room in a hurry.
"Where is this place?" His eyes swept the whole room slowly. Everything seemed strange, as if from a different world. "Didn't I just die? That sneaky 8th-level god ascension realm cultivator! He used an artifact to freeze my movement for a second. Damn! Why did I have to die so pathetically?" The young man slammed his fist on the bed in anger. "And what's with this place? Is this what either hell or heaven looks like?" The young man asked in confusion.
Suddenly, before the young man could process further....
A translucent screen appeared before him.
[Congratulations, Host. You have been selected as a player for the system 'Eternal's Grace'. Do you accept it?]
[Initial system acceptance reward: Memories of the previous owner of this body.]
"What?"