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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/ZscottLITRPG on 2024-10-17 12:56:24+00:00.

Brynn wakes up to discover he’s now a god in a world full of magic, infested dungeons, and sprawling kingdoms—but there’s a catch… He’s back at level one, Wood Rank.

Brynn is the first person ever to activate the previously hidden power of “Prestige Mode.” He’ll be able to equip two class corestones instead of one, among a host of other incredible benefits. His new powers come at a cost: the process erased all his memories and almost completely reset his progress.

With nothing from his old life but an unidentified helmet that looks like a portal to the stars and an empty Alchemist’s Kit, he finds himself in a dangerous new world full of terrifying creatures, fantasy races, treacherous dungeons, and enemies around every corner. He’ll have to navigate a complex magic and class system to reclaim his forgotten power and survive. 

Every level counts, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Brynn’s journey from level one to godhood begins now. 

What to Expect:

• An MC who picked the most punishing possible prestige path because it has the greatest potential power. He’ll start at the bottom and slowly progress his way back over what I hope to be a long series of books.
• A fun and complex class system. If you like unique classes, interesting powers, and exciting magical abilities… You’ll probably like it! (But I’m not in a rush to get to the end, so if you aren’t interested in a slow-burn journey to watch the MC climb steadily in power, then this may not be for you).
• Loot… Sweet, sweet loot. - This will be a very long series.

I’ve got a Discord! I’d love it if you joined :)

Chapter 63

Lyria and I stopped a little before reaching camp. We used handfuls of dirt to rub the blood off our bodies and clothing. It kind of worked in the same way rubbing yourself with sandpaper would. Except all the blood we managed to scrub off was replaced by dirt, which was only a slight improvement.

Lyria stood up after she was done. “How do I look?”I studied her. Her short red hair was clumped and matted with dirt and blood she couldn’t get out. Her normally smooth skin was covered in small cuts and bruises beneath a layer of grime. The padded clothing she had on beneath her armor was stained all over.

“You look terrible,” I said.

Lyria folded her arms. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re about as charming as a toothache?”

I smiled, pulling off my helmet and rubbing more dirt in my hair. “I’m honest. That’s all. You normally look great. Right now? Not so much.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t look so good, either. I think if you take much more damage, your clothes are going to completely fall apart on you. Except for your boots and cloak, that is.”

“It’s nice, right?” I said, lifting my cloak and appreciating how pristine it was. If something stained or tore the fabric of my cloak or boots, the damage was gradually repaired after a little time. Stains vanished like water drying on a hot day, and tears knitted themselves together within minutes.

I wondered what would happen if I blew up the entire cloak. Would it regenerate from thin air? Or did there need to be at least one molecule of cloak left to regenerate?

Then again, I didn’t plan to figure that one out. First of all, I wasn’t about to destroy my cloak. Even if I got an upgrade, I was sure I could sell this one for some decent money. And if I ever took enough damage to atomize my cloak while wearing it, I doubted I’d be around to find out if the cloak regenerated.

I pulled one of our many water flasks from my inventory and took a long gulp, then offered it to Lyria. She thanked me, draining the rest of it. “There. Another empty flask for your potion shit.”

I laughed. “If we were finding any ingredients down here, that might actually be exciting.” I frowned at the flask, put it in my slip space, and then pulled out another water flask.

“You’re still thirsty?” Lyria asked.

“No… I have an idea.” My Elemental Projection skill only worked on weapons, but you could use just about anything as a weapon, so long as you could wield it. That probably meant…

I drew mana through the flask, and into my body. To my delight, a cool stream of water sprayed out of my open palm like a garden hose, blasting Lyria square in the nose.

She sputtered, turning her head away and raising her hands.

I laughed. “Come on. You need this. Don’t fight it.”

“At least stop spraying it so hard,” she complained.

I aimed my hand upward so the water would rain down on her, more like a shower.

Lyria gave me a grateful nod, then started to rub the dirt out of her hair with the falling water. After a minute of hard scrubbing and about a quarter of my mana, I cut off the stream.

Lyria was dripping wet but looked somewhat clean now.

I aimed upward and showered myself next, stopping when I had about a quarter of my mana left.

Feeling clean and somewhat refreshed, we took our soaked selves back to camp.

To our surprise, everybody was awake and grinning as we approached.

“Ah,” Ramzi said in his deep voice. His teeth looked sparkling white against his dark skin. “It seems they are very enthusiastic lovers.”

“What?” I asked.

Zahra and Sylara were sharing a knowing smile.

I looked at Lyria and then myself. As far as the others could tell, we both snuck off while they were sleeping. Now, we were returning and covered in what looked like copious amounts of sweat.

I sighed.

I walked near the front of the group with Thorn. The deeper we went, the more often I had to watch my step to avoid thick roots and duck to avoid moss.

After everybody was done giving us shit about the way we returned to camp together, we agreed we should travel deeper down the passage and find out what was at the end. Our new friends were eager for any experience they could gain and seemed to think they were borderline invincible so long as I was by their side.

I sensed a coming clash between ourselves and the three Irons I could see on my map, and knew any extra levels, skill tiers, or knowledge about my abilities would be welcome. Lyria also needed more time to master her Soulbound grasp of the Shield corestone.

Ramzi, Sylara, Zahra, and Lyria were a little ways behind us. They had gotten on the topic of cooking, and the four of them were having a light-hearted debate about which region of Eros had the best meatballs.

I had to admit the meatballs in this place were good, but I didn’t quite understand the obsession.

“I know you all want to get stronger down here,” I said to Thorn after we had walked a little. “But do you have any particular goals inside Beastden?”

Thorn shook his head. “We were hoping to find some stragglers and get what experience we could. Being escaped slaves means we can’t join the adventurer’s guild, so we can’t count on their help.”

“They won’t take you?” I asked, mildly surprised. So far, the adventurer’s guild had seemed almost desperate for recruits. Other than practically asking you to sign away your soul, they didn’t even vet recruits for skill or ability. I would’ve imagined them being the type of organization to provide shelter for people like Thorn, even if it was only to bolster their numbers.

“Oh, they’d take us,” Thorn said. “And they’d register our names. Our masters would see it, figure out where we were, and come collect us.”

“Your masters could take you after you’ve signed on with the guild?”

“The guild operates in almost every city and every town across Eros. They start trying to disrupt the order of things, and Ithariel would smash them up faster than they could blink. Besides, the guild wouldn’t even send out collectors for us until we breached our contract and didn’t complete the required number of commissions. By that point, our masters would already have spent our lives to line their pockets.”

I frowned. “I can’t believe Ithariel just stands by while things like this happen. Couldn’t he step in to do something about it?”

Thorn chuckled darkly. “Ithariel wants order, no? That means letting the slavers keep their slaves because the north runs on slavery. If he took the slaves away, then sekmeti like Zahra and Ramzi would go straight back to open war with the kiergard. Fighting the sekmeti would mean he’d lose the sekmeti slave soldiers and the kiergard in his army because they’d be too busy killing each other. And if he tried to take away the right to enslave humans like me and Sylara? That would hardly do, either. Throwing humans in chains for failing to pay debts, being born in the wrong place, or pissing off the wrong noble keeps half the cities within the Inner Rings running, my friend.” He spread his muscular arms wide, flashing a sad smile. “You’re looking at the gears of the economy in all its glory.”

I looked down, forehead scrunched in thought. My first reaction was anger. In the vision I gained from the briarwraith, I remembered my feeling toward Ithariel being one of grudging respect. I hadn’t necessarily liked the man, I don’t think, but I had respected him. I thought we all had, to some degree.

So why was he letting things happen like this? Was immortality simply driving him mad? Or were there factors I didn’t understand?

“Was it always like this?” I asked. “Back when there were more gods, I mean.”

“Good luck finding out,” Thorn said. “Most of the written history from the time of The Nine was lost a few hundred years back. What’s l…

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