Started with a 10,000x Multiplier in a Game World

Dante slowly reached up and cracked his neck.

"I am mathematically dense," Dante said. A cold and terrifying smile spread across his face. "I told you I do not wear hand-me-downs."

The system interface violently exploded in front of his vision.

The text wasn’t blue, gold, or the bruised purple of a curse. It was a dark and pulsating crimson. It literally looked like the game engine was dripping with cosmic authority.

[System Override: Ego Subjugation Failed.]

[Hostile Data Successfully Assimilated.]

[Global Leaderboard Update: Hidden Class Rankings]

[Rank 1: Asura Vanguard - Owner: Dan]

Dante didn’t just survive the overwrite. He had completely stolen the ultimate prize.

[Hidden Class Acquired: Asura Vanguard]

[Grade: Mythic (World-Altering)]

[Description: The user has conquered the primordial essence of slaughter. You are the arbiter of chaos, the executioner of the Zenith Protocol.]

Dante immediately pulled up the stat sheet to see exactly what he had stolen from the ancient ghost. He fully expected a massive power creep. He didn’t expect the system to just hand him the keys to the server.

[Base Stat Modifiers Applied:]

[Strength: +500%]

[Agility: +300%]

[Maximum HP: +500%]

The raw numbers were staggering.

Combined with his [Frost-God Constitution] and the [Savior of Ironhold] buffs, his baseline stats were completely off the charts.

He did a quick bit of mental math. If his base strength was already absurd, multiplying it by five hundred percent meant he was essentially carrying the kinetic force of a small asteroid in his fists.

He was functionally a raid boss walking around in a standard player avatar.

But it was the passives and skills that completely broke the game.

[Class Passive 1 (Aura of Despair): Hostile entities within a 100-foot radius experience 200% simulated pain feedback. Morale and localized defense stats are passively reduced by 50%.]

[Class Passive 2 (Absolute Ruin): All physical attacks permanently alter the environment. Destroyed terrain cannot be reset by standard system protocols.]

[Class Passive 3 (Predator’s Eye): Base Critical Hit Chance is permanently locked at 100%.]

Dante stared at the third passive for a long time.

A guaranteed critical hit on every single strike. With the [Celestial Strike Pearl] he had socketed earlier providing an additional boost to critical damage, his baseline output was going to be mathematically obscene. He was essentially a walking critical strike.

He scrolled down to the active skills.

[Class Skill 1: Asura’s Descent (Active)]

[Description: The user voluntarily reduces their Physical and Magical Defense to 0. In exchange, Maximum HP is multiplied by 10, and Attack Power is doubled. Grants 5 seconds of absolute invulnerability upon activation. Duration of invulnerability is extended by 3 seconds for every hostile entity killed while active. Cooldown: 1 Hour.]

[Class Skill 2: Asura’s Heart (Active)]

[Description: A localized burst of pure combat adrenaline. Boosts Attack Speed and Movement Speed by 100%. Critical Hit Damage is increased to 300%. Instantly dispels all positive buffs on targeted enemies upon hit. Duration: 30 seconds. Cooldown: 5 Minutes.]

[Class Skill 3: Starfall (Active)]

[Description: The user commands the localized atmosphere to violently collapse. Summons a massive and indiscriminate AoE barrage of superheated cosmic meteors within a 500-foot radius. Deals catastrophic Fire and True Damage. Cooldown: 24 Hours.]

Dante let out a low whistle. The kit was entirely focused on absolute and overwhelming aggression. It demanded a reckless and high-risk playstyle.

It was built around sacrificing defense for raw apocalyptic damage. It was basically a berserker build on cosmic steroids.

He reached the final skill on the list.

[Ultimate Class Skill: God-Illusion (Active)]

[Description: The user temporarily assumes the true unmitigated form of the First Asura. Grants access to full primordial-tier stats and absolute systemic immunity for exactly 1 minute.]

[Warning: This skill may only be activated ONCE per user lifetime.]

A one-time use ultimate.

Dante stared at the warning label. It was a literal emergency button that granted sixty seconds of absolute unquestionable godhood.

Like any veteran gamer holding a consumable item, he mentally locked that skill away immediately. He was absolutely going to hoard it and probably never use it just in case there was a bigger boss later.

Dante dismissed the massive crimson interface.

He looked back at the remnant soul floating in the center of the bone basin.

The ghost was visibly diminishing. Without the power of the Asura anchoring him, the ancient bruised purple light was fading. It turned gray and incredibly weak.

"You stole it," the remnant whispered. His telepathic voice was barely a faint echo now. "You stole the apex of slaughter."

"I did not steal it," Dante corrected smoothly. "I repurposed it. You wanted to use my body to break your quarantine and slaughter the server. I am just going to use your power to kill the people who actually deserve it."

Dante didn’t draw [Voidsever]. He didn’t need to execute a fading ghost. He wasn’t going to waste the stamina.

"Who are you?" Dante asked. His red eyes locked onto the diminishing figure. "You are not just a random dungeon boss. You held a Mythic-tier class. You knew about the Orthodox factions."

The remnant slowly drifted downward. His translucent boots finally touched the pulverized bone dust covering the floor.

He looked up at the blood-red sky of the Mists of Carnage.

"I am Lin," the remnant said softly. All malice and arrogance were completely gone. They were replaced by a profound and ancient exhaustion.

"The First Asura. And I have been waiting in this graveyard for two hundred thousand years to tell someone the truth about this cursed system."

The Mists of Carnage were deathly still.

Dante stood in the center of the pulverized bone arena. The dark heavy fabric of his cape rippled gently despite the lack of wind.

The solid glowing red of his eyes was a permanent physical marker of his new [Asura Vanguard] class. He fixed his gaze entirely on the fading translucent figure of Lin.

"One Hundred thousand years," Dante repeated. His voice carried a slight echoing resonance. "The Zenith Protocol has not been active for that long. My father fought in the First Cycle twenty-five years ago on Veridia."

Lin let out a dry and rasping chuckle. It sounded like dry leaves scraping against stone.

"Veridia," Lin murmured and shook his head slowly. "Your planet is merely the latest batch of recruits, Outworlder. You are the new kids on the block.

The Zenith Protocol is not a software program. It is a cosmic engine of perpetual war, and it has been dragging entire civilizations into its meat grinder since the dawn of the universe."

Dante didn’t interrupt. The lore of the game was unraveling rapidly. He needed every piece of raw data he could get to formulate a strategy against the true administrators of the system.

"I was not born a demon or a god," Lin said. His ghostly form flickered as he gestured to himself.

"I was a human. Just like you. I lived in the First Age long before the system imposed these rigid artificial classes and levels upon us."

Lin walked slowly across the bone dust. His gaze was distant and lost in a memory that predated the very foundations of the server.

"In the beginning, humanity was weak," Lin explained. His voice dropped into a solemn and heavy cadence. "We were prey. The Beasts hunted us in the forests, the Demons tortured us for amusement, and the Celestials demanded absolute unyielding worship in exchange for meager protection. We were cattle in a cosmic slaughterhouse."

Dante nodded. It wasn’t a surprising narrative. The Blade-Saint had already confirmed that humanity was drafted purely because of their limitless potential for violent escalation.

"But my sister was different," Lin smiled. A fleeting expression of genuine warmth cut through his ghostly visage.

"Her name was Elara. She was brilliant. She did not accept our place at the bottom of the food chain. She studied the ambient mana, the flow of cosmic energy, and the very fabric of reality itself. And she created something beautiful."

Lin stopped pacing and looked directly at Dante.

"She created a cultivation method," Lin stated proudly. "It was not a system-granted skill or a looted spellbook.

It was a fundamental technique that allowed ordinary un-classed humans to actively gather ambient mana and permanently increase their own base stats without relying on the leveling algorithms of the Zenith Protocol."

The eyes of Dante widened slightly.

A cultivation method that bypassed the leveling system entirely. If ordinary humans could infinitely scale their stats without grinding dungeons or fighting bosses, it would completely shatter the artificial scarcity of power.

That scarcity was exactly what the system relied on to control the player base. It was exactly the kind of broken mechanic Dante respected.

"It was freedom," Lin whispered. His voice trembled with a mixture of reverence and profound sorrow. "For the first time in history, humanity had the power to defend itself. Villages began to train. Farmers learned to hit with the force of falling boulders. We were no longer prey."

The expression of Lin darkened. The bruised purple light radiating from his form shifted violently. It turned a deep and angry crimson.

"But power is a zero-sum game, Outworlder," Lin hissed. His spectral hands clenched into fists.

"The Orthodox factions were the massive unified guilds of heavily geared system-reliant elites who controlled the economy and the politics of the era. They did not see freedom. They saw a threat."

Dante crossed his arms. "They lost their monopoly."

"Exactly," Lin agreed. He pointed a trembling finger at Dante. "The Orthodox elites relied on their high-tier gear and their systemic monopolies to rule over the commoners.

If every farmer could punch through Gold-tier armor simply by breathing and cultivating mana, the elites became obsolete."

Corporate greed was universal. It apparently existed even in cosmic death games.

Lin began to pace again. His movements were jerky and agitated. The traumatic memories actively bled into his localized digital code.

"So, they branded her a heretic," Lin snarled and his voice rose in volume. "The Orthodox leaders convened a massive tribunal.

They declared the cultivation method of my sister evil and corrupting. They claimed it was Demonic magic designed to destabilize the server."

"Propaganda," Dante noted flatly. He knew the tactic well. Silas had used the exact same strategy.

He had weaponized the death of Vanguard to paint himself as a hero while hoarding all the resources for his own syndicate.

"It worked perfectly," Lin laughed. It was a bitter and hollow sound. "The masses are easily swayed by fear. The Orthodox guilds mobilized a massive synchronized army.

They did not just target the warriors using the method. They targeted everyone who had even spoken to my sister."

Lin stopped in the center of the arena. He looked down at the pulverized bone dust covering his boots.

"They dragged Elara into the grand plaza of the Capital," Lin whispered. Tears of ghostly light formed in his eyes.

"They tied her to a stake forged from celestial iron. And they burned her alive while the entire server watched."

Dante remained silent. The visceral horror of the memory was heavy and thick with the weight of ancient injustice.

It mirrored the agonizing and helpless rage Dante had felt when Silas drove a dagger into his back. But this was magnified exponentially by the sheer scale of the betrayal.

"I tried to stop them," Lin said. His voice dropped to a broken rasp. "But I was weak. I had not mastered the cultivation method yet. I was beaten, restrained, and forced to watch her turn to ash."

Lin looked up. His red eyes burned with a desperate and lingering need for justification.

"I did not turn to the power of the Asura out of greed, Outworlder," Lin pleaded. He stepped closer to Dante. "I did not want to conquer the server or rule an empire. I just wanted them to pay for what they did to her."

"I understand," Dante said softly. And he did. If Silas or Valerius had targeted Sera, Lila, or Mei, Dante wouldn’t have hesitated to burn Ironhold to the ground.

"But the tragedy did not end with Elara," Lin continued and shook his head slowly. "The Orthodox did not just kill her. They used her death to consolidate absolute control.

They implemented strict systemic laws that criminalized independent progression. They essentially built the rigid tiered class system you operate under today.

They completely suffocated the limitless potential of humanity in a gilded cage of structured leveling."

Dante frowned. The Zenith Protocol wasn’t just a natural cosmic law. It was an artificial ceiling. It was installed and maintained by the very players who benefited from it.

"During that time," Lin said. His voice softened slightly. A rare hint of tenderness broke through the anger. "I was not entirely alone. I had a lover. Her name was Seraphiel."

Dante listened closely. The name sounded distinctly Celestial.

"She was a Paladin of Light," Lin smiled, though the expression was heartbreakingly sad. "A high-ranking officer within the very Orthodox factions that executed my sister.

We had met in secret for years. She believed in the system. She believed in the order and the stability that the guilds provided.

We argued constantly about the hypocrisy of their rule, but she was blinded by her faith in the light."

Lin turned away. He looked out toward the dense red fog of the Mists of Carnage.

"When Elara was burned," Lin said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Seraphiel was standing on the balcony with the High Council. She watched the execution."

"Did she do anything to stop it?" Dante asked and his voice hardened.

"She tried," Lin nodded slowly. "But she was surrounded by the most powerful entities of the First Age. She was suppressed instantly. But watching Elara burn... witnessing the absolute unfiltered cruelty of the righteous factions... it broke her faith completely."

Lin turned back to Dante. His ghostly form flickered wildly.

"That was the spark that ignited the true chaos of the First Age," Lin declared. "The death of my sister birthed the Asura. But the actions of my lover... they redefined what the Light truly meant."

Dante stood ready. The story was far from over. The lore of the First Cycle was providing him with exactly the context he needed to understand the true nature of his enemies in the present.