The Last Legendary System

Not even the web novels Benign read in camp would’ve prepared him for this.

He might’ve transmigrated, but never had he anticipated a sea of dead bodies as a greeting.

It wasn’t a good welcome at all because, in his experience as a soldier, dead bodies in such masses told a sad tale.

"So why was I brought here? Why did I get chosen?"

In most transmigration novels, an MC who regretted their life got a second chance to relive it.

But not Benign.

Despite growing up as an orphan, his village and grandmother had raised him. They even supported his decision to serve in the military.

He had turned down promotions just to remain stationed within his hometown, but he knew his name had traveled far as the terrifying ’The Cross.’

After his grandmother died, he eventually left his hometown, and he formed a family with his unit. He died on the battlefield after taking down seven enemy commanders.

Before the missile struck, he had alerted his unit, saving every one of them. They’d only be songs of his bravery, and his village would be proud to have raised him.

It wasn’t a bad way to be remembered.

So why was he given a second chance at life, and inside another war-torn world?

[The Legacy System chose you, Benign Cross, to aid the realms.]

He slid down the dune he stood on, despite having no idea where the closest settlement would be. He just needed to start walking.

The sand beneath him was soft and yielding, and he felt the heat despite the soles of his boots. He needed to get to a station quickly, or he might die of thirst next.

"So what’s the mission? I’m down, not like I have a choice after seeing all these. Hopefully, it’s quick and not like... messing around with women to form an army and defeat the bad guys."

He paused when the voice didn’t reply. "Or is that it?"

[No. There’s a girl...]

[Error.]

[There’s a glitch.]

[You correct the glitch.]

Benign stayed quiet, waiting for more answers from what he had accepted as a system that handed him his missions and stats. "Is that all? And are you sure you didn’t swallow whatever glitch it is? You are incoherent."

[Impossible.]

[Estimated Integrity: 87%]

[Rounding up to the nearest hundred.]

[Estimated Integrity: 100%]

[I am in top shape. Very coherent.]

Benign stared at the blue screen for four seconds, then agreed with a nod. ’I’m fucked.’

The system continued.

[Bodies are dumped in the wrong realm. Killed by the wrong enemy. Different worlds colliding with another.]

Benign stopped walking and kept his hands on his waist. It sounded like a really crazy world, and the only thing on his mind was his own survival.

He continued walking down to the corpses. "That regeneration skill you mentioned earlier, when can I use it?"

[So you were listening?]

"It made sense after a while."

[It is your first basic skill, but it needs to be activated. Then it works without your permission.]

He nodded. He always appreciated soldiers who did what had to be done without waiting for direct orders.

"Okay then. What—"

The sound of a groan forced Benign to a halt. He slowly cranked his head behind him. It took him a moment to notice it. "Is that...?"

Instincts took over his confusion, and he slid down the dune.

Amidst the grim carpet of corpses, a bloodied hand trembled beneath two armored bodies. The fingers clawed weakly at the air.

Benign was already moving. He ran across the hot brown sand, shoved the bodies aside, and dropped to one knee beside the mangled soldier. Blood soaked the man’s waist, and his leg had been crushed beneath a body.

The survivor’s breastplate had caved inward, and blood seeped from the gaps. "Hey, hey." Benign reached for the man’s hands and checked his pulse. It was weak, but the man was still alive.

The man stared at him through unfocused eyes. "O-Olien?"

Benign frowned. ’What is that?’ "No. Just breathe, and please stay awake, okay?" He tore a strip from his cloak and pressed it against the wound.

The man’s gaze shifted to Benign’s uniform. "It’s not... Noria... either..."

He paused. "You... are not an... elf?"

"Clearly not." Benign removed his gloves and returned to pressing firmly against the wound. "Don’t worry, you’ll be fine—"

"No..." the man laughed weakly. "The realms collided again... at the worst... possible time... I am not making... it."

His eyes drifted to the sky, then around him, where his comrades lay motionless. "I know... I know I wouldn’t make it... But I wish... I wish you had come... earlier..."

Benign held his hand for support. ’What would I have done if I had come earlier?’ He said nothing to the man, understanding that he was delirious.

"But promise... me.... the glitches..."

"The glitches?" Benign repeated. He remembered what the system had said. "That’s what did this? All of this?"

The man nodded weakly. "I... don’t know where they came from... but..." The man’s pupils suddenly widened. "No... not now..."

He pulled away from Benign desperately.

Benign looked down at the man’s fingers.

They were changing. His fingernails stretched against his skin, rippling his flesh. Green scales pushed through his forearm, and the man threw his head back in pain.

Benign instinctively stepped away. "What the hell?"

[Warning.]

[Glitch progression detected.]

[Host Should Maintain Distance.]

[Error.]

[Host Should Maintain Contact.]

[Error.]

"Now is not the time for that." Benign snapped. His eyes narrowed at the man. "So this is a glitch?"

[Negative.]

[This is a symptom.]

He tore another part of his uniform and tried to tie it around the man’s body, but the man’s torso swelled. "He’s changing too quickly."

[Warning.]

"I know! But he’s dying—"

The wounded man suddenly grabbed Benign’s sleeve.

His grip was surprisingly strong. He leaned in. "Please... if... if I become..." His breathing hitched. "Don’t let me become... become... please."

Benign understood immediately. He grabbed a weapon from the man’s waist. His jaw tightened. "I know."

The young man slowly relaxed. "Thank... y—"

CRACK.

A gunshot echoed. Benign never expected to hear this in this world, and he didn’t miss it either.

The wounded man’s head jerked violently sideways, and his blood sprayed across Benign’s cheek.

Benign remained kneeling for a second.

Then, he slowly turned his head to his left.

He saw a figure standing in the middle of the sea of sand. The figure was a lizard-like creature with rough scales and a tail at its back.

The figure stood atop a dune, smoke curling from the strange revolver in its hand. It wasn’t looking at Benign but at the corpse. As if it were making sure the man was dead.

The creature finally shifted its gaze toward Benign.

Their eyes met.

"A Hostile." Benign spoke softly, feeling his throat drying up.

He slowly rose from his kneeling position.