The Last Legendary System

Gunfire cracked across the battlefield. Explosions shook the earth, and screams disappeared beneath the roar of artillery.

Dust rose in the air, and the sun struggled to break through the haze. Soon, the ground was covered with patches of blood.

A young soldier ran to the front with a rocket launcher, targeting the altar on which the enemy’s commander stood.

The rocket launcher pointed at the commander’s head, and shrouded by haze, the soldier hid perfectly.

With damp red strands clinging to his forehead, Benign adjusted his aim. There was no room for fear or doubt. If he missed, he failed. If he failed, his comrades would fall.

Their ammunition was nearly gone. Half the unit lay silent behind the barricades.

"Go ahead, Benign," one whispered, "we are right behind you."

He made a quick nod and covered more distance from his unit.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sound struck the hearts of the surrounding soldiers. The last thing the enemy’s commander saw was molten steel coming for his head.

With precision, three enemy tanks came crumbling down. Only one person could use those advanced, engineered grenade launchers.

Cheers erupted from Benign’s side. Across the battlefield, enemy lines faltered for the first time.

Chaos ensued. Officers barked conflicting orders, and their soldiers ran back to the altar where their headless leader’s body lay. "Fall back! It’s The Cross! Fall back! He’s attacking now!"

The young soldier ran swiftly through the rubble and corpses as the enemy soldiers tried to take him down.

He took cover behind a crumbling wall and tore off the wig and uniform of the opposite nation that he had worn to get closer to the enemy.

His reddish hair had been neatly tied underneath the wig, and he ran his hand through it roughly to undo it. "Phoenix is down!" He spoke through a mouthpiece.

"I repeat, the leader, Phoenix, is down! The Cross would proceed as planned!" He resumed running until he made a clean escape.

His comrades responded quickly, regrouping and preparing for another raid on the enemy amid their confusion.

Suddenly, an altar rose behind his comrades with two muscular men standing on top of it. There were the commanders of his army, and they bellowed. "Victory is justice!"

"Victory is justice!! Victory is justice!!" Hundreds of boots thundered forward.

The young soldier reached the storage and quickly exchanged his bazooka for a rifle.

"Benign!" He was called before he sprinted off.

He halted but didn’t turn back.

"Good shot." He heard his superior say. "Again, The Cross left the battle half won for us. Survive this battle, and we’ll discuss the marriage reward."

Benign only nodded. ’Marriage? On a battlefield where death came by the second?’ His superiors truly didn’t understand soldiers.

He shook those thoughts from his head.

His eyes narrowed. A group of enemies broke formation and sprinted toward a missile launcher aimed at Unit Fox.

"Oh shit! Unit Fox! Take cover!"

Without thinking, he sprinted toward them, dodging bullets and debris. He began releasing fire from a distance and watched the desperate soldiers eat their fill.

Yet one of them had struggled to reach the vehicle.

The missile was launched, but not where Benign expected it. His eyes followed the missile. It should have been a missed shot.

Instead, the missile curved toward the man who had taken down their commander.

’Ah...’

"Benign! Look out!" he heard his comrades call for him.

But it was useless. How would he dodge a missile coming straight for him?

THUD!

The ground shook, and a shockwave erupted behind him and slowly crept to engulf him. He felt his body slam against something really hard. His consciousness left him before pain could set in.

His body was likely in too much pain to feel, or his receptors shut down early. Benign felt nothing yet could see darkness. Faces flashed through his mind.

His parents. His grandmother. Kendrick. Fox Squad. Then nothing.

He had buried friends, saved strangers, and killed innocents. It was enough.

There were no other regrets.

Benign Cross.

Out.

Except...

He suddenly felt like he was being baked alive. It was as if the force of the hit had thrown him straight for the sun.

Or did he reminisce over the one time he got trapped in his grandmother’s oven? It was still too intense.

His fingers ran over a rough surface, not fitting the wet ground where he fell.

But he ignored those sensations, silently waiting for his death. For when he’ll stop feeling anything.

[Welcome, Beneta Crocs.]

"Hm?"

[Error.]

[Recalibrating...]

[Welcome, Benign... Cross]

[Legacy System Deleting...]

[Error.]

[Legacy System Activated!]

Benign scrunched his nose, wondering who spoke in his head. He couldn’t get the smell of anything familiar: blood, burning flesh, gun oil, or the rancid rations they ate in camp.

Consciously, he moved his fist, and they moved. Perhaps the missile didn’t kill him outright, but left him in pieces. He knew he wouldn’t have survived that hit.

Yet hearing voices on his way to peace might mean he was headed to hell.

’I deserve it. I did kill numerous orphans.’

The murmurings above his head came again.

[Registering Beneta Cross as Legacy Systemist.]

[Error.]

[Registering Benign Cross as Legacy Systemist.]

[Complete.]

His fists balled. ’The worst part is that it’s a man talking over my head. Not even a young, pretty voice. Talking over me wouldn’t bring me back to life, Kendrick.’

[Do you have a complaint, Benign Crocs?]

"The dead do not have choices. I am already dead."

[As you wish.]

[Activating Revival.]

"Why?"

[Deleting Host...]

[Error.]

Benign blinked. ’I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.’

[Activating Regeneration.]

[Complete.]

Benign paused before quietly asking. "Isn’t it Revival you should have activated? I’m still dead. And who in hell are you?"

When he thought about it, this guy had called him so many wrong names and sounded like those AI robots the military brought to train them.

[Host is alive.]

Benign clenched his fists, and they had more strength than the last time. The burning of his skin didn’t seem to be something he experienced because he was getting closer to hell. He forced himself to stand up, and his bones crunched.

He stretched sideways and slowly opened his eyes. They burned. After five seconds, he adjusted to the brightness of his surroundings. It didn’t look like a battlefield scattered with rubble, corpses of armed men and women, and broken guns.

’Heck, it didn’t even look like the forest ground.’

’I am in a damn desert.’

"What’s happening here?"

[Beneta Cross, you have been transmigrated to a different realm.]

"It’s Benign," he said with a sigh while sluggishly moving towards the other side of the sand hill he stood on.

Reaching the edge, his eyes widened at the landscape. A battlefield covered with corpses of soldiers, forgotten weaponry, and patches of blood.

Dead, mangled, bird-like creatures scattered around the edge, as though they had fallen defending the warriors. The stench of rotting flesh lingered in the air, and a cluster of clouds hung over, preventing sunlight.

The warriors still wore ancient armored plates untouched by scavengers. Benign’s first thought was, ’Had there been no one to bury them?’

The sight of abandoned soldiers always left a sour taste on his tongue.

He looked away. "So, this is like in those web novels?"

[Precisely, Benign Crocs.]

He didn’t bother to correct it.

"So what about all these bodies?" It seemed more like mass murder than a battlefield.

[This event will be recorded in history as the Clash of Realms.]

[You, Benign Cross, shall be recorded with it.]

[Primary Mission Loading...]

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[Mission Not Found.]

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[Please wait.]

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{Author’s note: A new book that I’ve been planning for a while now. I hope you enjoy it. Will be looking out for your reviews.}