Home ->Devolved ->4 Last Practice

 Michael, now Marss, continued to follow the path shown in the previous youth's memory. Eventually ending up near a small village.

After some time walking trough the barren woods, he finally arrived at his destination. the village was covered by some large wood fence, enforced by some old lumps of iron and stone.

Closing in, he saw an open, but ungarded wood gate. Figuring this was the place, he entered.

As he proceeded, the first thing which he noticed was the old wooden houses, matching the fence type wall that surrounded the grassy farmland. They shared some similarities to the kind of buildings displayed in those musem theme parks. some wheat field an barns also came into view. However, when looking back at the open gate, all fields were empty and the barns locked thight.

The second object, or rather the second entity, were some fleeting dots that approached him rapidly. Quickly moving from the corner of his eyes to the center.

The figures, as if they saw something incredible sped up towards his direction.

Taking another look at them, they took the shape of a small group of teens. Their expression showing something close to disbelief.

Marss frowned. In the unclear memories which ran their turn inside his brain, a sequence was shown, containing the same teens pummeling his body into the moist forrest dirt.

"So this kid got beaten to death?". The memories of the old Marss then quickly resurfaced all at once.

The 'him' of this world was a coward. Only good a hiding and lying. Always trying slip away from work which mainly consisted of hard farm labour.

'He' looked up to the strong gangs of older children, constantly trying to get on their good side.

Sadly, life was cut short by this boundless fervor, as he died at their hand. It happend because they grew tired of him always following them around.

As his thoughts finished turning, the teens appeard In front of him, with the oldest and tallest of them named Fenrik starting to speak.

"Ha!" he cried out with a dull but cracked voice. His lean and well-defined face synchronizing perfectly with the short red hair covering his head like a sheath.

"You dare show yourself here even after receiving a round? Well, whatever. Go fetch me something to drink." Fenrik, as if asserting his position once more, immediately order Marss to do the usual bidding.

However, taking a closer look at the small kid In front of him, fenrik's eyes opened themselves further, seemingly surprised.

"Hey what happened to your eyes? why are they suddenly golden?" Fenrik questioned.

The surrounding boys, also began looking into little Marss's eyes, noticing the new gold tint emerging from his newly awakend irises.

Although Marss was definitely considered the oldest one, if counting his previous age, there was no feeling of forgiveness anywhere inside his heart, even when counting the fact that he was not the original Marss.

His old life was built up by constant internal and external conflicts, slowly shaping his mind into a towering mountain that would not bend.

While living on earth, the most common emotion he had was contempt. Contempt towards all who looked down on him. This feeling was more than familiar, yet now, as he found these men fitting of it, there came nothing.

It was rather strange. He didn't feel anything at all. As if his body ran on some instinctive program embedded deep inside.

Fenrik noticed he was lost in his thoughts and felt insulted. How could such a brat dare ignore him? Especially one such as Marss? Further angering himself, he proceeded to strech his arm towards the golden eyed boy.

Yet, as his hand creepet closer, an urgent, unknown feeling woke him up. Shaken awake by a pain originating from his his arm. He now looked at Marss, who held his wrist with his small soft hand.

"Hey!" Fenrik cried.

"What do you think you are doing? Do you not remember what level I have reached?" the teen barked once more as he struggled.

Marss, however, turned a deaf ear to him. Listening to the voice running amok in his head.

[Hostile intent detected]

[Estimated Level:12]

[chance of host winning:98,7%]

[chance of host losing:1,3%]

Similarly, Fenrik heard and saw the same kinds of number, only slightly less accurate and lacking, but also reversed against him.

While watching the numbers appear before him, disbelief clouded his mind.

"H..Hey" he forced out, wishing to regain his lost arrogance. "Lets just give in for today! Or what do you say?"

Despite his pleading, Marss did not release his grip, and instead tightened it further.

A certain memory emerged in his head. It was the image of the guy who took his life. Belittling him while he slowly laid before him.

[Activated ability:Baleful aura LvL:1] (Realeasing an aura which clouds the target's mind with fear. can be used on multiple opponents, but effect will be weakend)

[Activated ability:Punch LvL:1]

(A normal punch)


[A title granted to those who hold a vast amount of battle experience in their soul]

[All physical attacks do 20% more damage]

Marss, suprised but not dazed, then decided to casally throw his fist towards the young man's face.

The last thing Fenrik saw was the image of a beast streching its claws towards his eyes.

As the malleable face connected with the enforced clump of flesh and bone, it began forming a small dent with the nose at its center.

A series of cracking noises then came after, followed by a ringing which emerged in Marss's mind.

[host has defeated hostile target]

[Absorbing experience....calculating]

[Level up!]

[Level up!]

[Level up!]

He received that notification 5 times. Rasing his level to [5/10]. When the ringing stopped, he was greeted by a familiar sight once more.

[Further calculations required..]

[Previous error corrected]

[Display engaged]


Lvl:5/10 (+5)

Name:Marss Frell Wiik

Race:Human/V???A?T Age:15

Mental status:Normal

Body status:Normal



[ABILITIES] (active)+

[ABILITIES] (passive)+


A satisfied smile formed on his face. He then moved his eyes towards the corpse laying beneath him.

He kept starring at it, as if he noticed that something was amiss. It caused a slight headache to emerge in the back of his mind.


Snapping out of his thoughts, Marss heard the previously obedient dogs scream. Whenever they looked at the unmoving body, their running and screaming would become more frantic.

As the screaming resonated within the area, the crude wooden doors flew open. Villagers of all genders started emerging from their aged houses. The reason Marss was identifying them all as villagers was because each and every one wore some sort of roughly tailord leather. All having their own color and shapes, but not an important detaled as they were all dirty.

The Villagers quickly gathered around the murder site, with Marss and Fenrik in the center.

Out of the newly formed crowd came a tall and robust man, daunting a bald head and a rough red beard. His eyes, though white, contained some redness in them. Most likely from drinking. His barely viewable facial features were as hardy as his beard, with small black hairs covering his tanned and swollen arms.

As the bearded man took another look at the murder site, the redness in his eyes grew more, before aiming his now fuming expression at Marss.

The boy was standing in front of his son's body. With his bloodied right hand identifying the injustice comitted.

Although he knew that his son definitely started the fight, the rage he forcefully held in leaked out, and he starter screaming.


Marss assessed the redbearded man calmly. Hearing the name the man screamed for made him think of the parents he had in this life.

Out of the crowd emerged three other individuals. One old man covering himself in a long, white beard followed by some glasses, showing his experienced silver eyes. The most noticable trait he had was definetly the finely sewed robes he wore, standing out from the cloth covered men and women behind him. He a gave off a profound scholarly aura.

Next was what Marss quickly figured was his parents. A brown haired average looking man followed by a smaller framed, purple haired woman. If comparing his newfound look to both of them, he would be some sort of combo.

Both the man and the woman absorbed every detail that entered their view. Both shocked, yet fearful of what was to come.

Before any of them could say anything, the old scholar closed his eyes, letting a simple command march out from his aged lips.

"For murdering another inhabitant, you are hereby banished from this place." His voice carried its weight over the villagers mind like a boulder.

His parents, however, were not affected, and now realising what was about to befall their son. Both started pleading to the elderly man.

"He is but a child, elder!" the purple haired woman cast at him. "He wouldn't survive a single night out there with those monsters! We are willing to pay for his crimes!"

The father then starred at his wife, showing an agreeing expression reflected inside the steady eyes. Shtifing his body towards the old man while fallin to his knee's.

The elder was about to respond, but was interrupted by the fuming red haired beardsman.

"Don't even think about it!" he barked. "If your kid stays inside these walls for even one more day, you are fired!" The boiling eyes of the beardsman lockie on to his father.

"Enough!" The elder then interrupted them and finished what he planned to say. "He may choose to stay here until sunset. However, after that, he will be cast out."

Both parents lost the luster in their eyes as they knew he would not change his mind.

the beardsman, seemingly satisfied, began carrying his son towards a stone building further in the distance.

The elder took one last glance at the golden eyed boy and then left. The crowd began dispersing as well, leaving only his heartbroken father and mother.

Marss began approaching them, but before he could let out a sound they dragged him towards an old hut, appearing more damaged than all the other ones in the village.

As they entered the hut, the once open was slammed it backwards. Panick once more emerged on the mother's face as she began contemplating what to do.

After some silence, his father spoke to in a defetead tone.

"The Soldiers guarding the gate went out earlier today to look for you." "They probably won't be back before dusk. We still have time. Almost all the escape tunnels are unguarded, if we sneak you out now you can still.." He was then cut off.

"No need, father." Marss respectfully answered. "I was already planning to leave this place sooner or later. and besides, I have already come of age, so my fate is my own fate."

Both his parents then looked upon their boy. Almost traumatized by this calm and confident attitude, unlike anything he had ever done.

As both of them began giving up on persuading him, his father started rummaging trough some of his old belongings.

Marss, silently observing the old wooden home he grew up in, was then interrupted by both his parents again. They still wore the same dirt covered clothes from.

His mother took a step towards him, signaling him to strech out his hands.

When reaching towards her with his non- bloddied left hand, a small green orb was placed in the palm of it

"This is a lucky charm I once carried with me. Although it is not much, please keep it with you, my boy". She gave him a tender look, holdinging her tears inside as she placed both hands on his red cheeks.

"Enough Lena". His father sighed. " there isn't much time."

His father then placed a small dagger next to the pearl.

"This was used by my father, and his father before. keep it with you!" He forced a smile on his face, preparing to see his son off at any moment.

As the sun sunk itself behind the tall and seemingly endless row of leaves, Marss was now standing in front of the large wooden gate once more. This time, however, surrounded by sweaty soldiers wearing in rusty iron armor. Some wore a single piece of the iron mail, while the other were lucky enough to still possess the entire sets.

When watching them, he noticed that they were all releasing the same type of pressure. probably at the first rank.

"Now!" and old vocie rang out.

Marss turnd around, catching a glimpse of both his saddened parents stare at him standing next to the elder and beardsmen.

Choosing not to dwell here any longer, he began walking trough the armed gate filled with some annoyed and hostile gazes from the soldiers over his head.

Feeling more unwelcome, Marss quickened his steps. Walking from the grassy flatland which covered the village towards the tall and densely packed trees. His silhouette disappeared alongside the last remaining droplets of light falling from the sky.

With a heavy *Dunk* the gates then closed, and his parents were only left with their leaking eyes.

The elder and redbearded man left them there to cry over the loss of their only child.

They kept standing by the gate, as if hoping he would come back, but eventually walked back towards their broken home.

As Marss kept walking deeper in the now black forrest, he scanned his eyes over the items gifted to him by his new parent's.

[Life orb:increases regeneration speed]

[Heirloom steel dagger:Not as sharp as it once was, but can deal with most small threats]

"So it can also identify objects? quite handy indeed".


Remembering the the hopeless expression of the man and the woman watching him leave, a strange sensation emerged from his body.

Scratching his head, the headache once again decided to emerge. A deep frown appeard on his face, as he could not notice what was bothering him.

"What a waste of time this was." Marss's eyes gained more radiance each time he connected the bottom of his black, worn out shoes with the slightly more firm earth.

"It is time uphold my promise. Those farmers are not my real parents, and I will never see them again." He began talking to himself. Each word was more drained of emotion than the last.

"System, change my first name to Michael." he ordered.



[Name confirmed as valid]

[Proceeding with change]



Name:Michael Frell Wiik

Race:Human/V???a?t Age:15

Mental status:Normal

Body status:Normal



[ABILITIES] (active)+

[ABILITIES] (passive)+


Starring feverishly onto the screen infront of him, Michael's skin lost its redness.

He threw the orb into one of the pockets on his brown leather pants. the distanced crossed rapidly increased as he took deeper strides forward.

His soft hands trembled slighty, as the edge of the dagger camouflaged itself within the cold breeze which passed it.

He began walking faster, his back arching slightly forwards as he sped up into the rustling wild.

Unbeknownst to Michael, an emotionless grin grew on his face.

"It begins now."