The Last Legendary System

Click. Click. Click.

A barrage of bolts flew toward him. Benign didn’t think much.

His body moved on its own—Muscle memory from spars with his teammates.

He moved through the projectiles; his movements were blurrier than before.

[DEX 144: Evasion Rate Increased.]

"Since when was I this fast?" he muttered, sliding under a bolt that would’ve taken his ear off.

He took another step.

The ceiling groaned. A massive boulder, spiked with iron, detached and plummeted toward his head.

"Look out!" Stun yelled.

Benign didn’t dodge. It was too late. He planted his feet, raised a fist, and punched the falling rock.

CRACK!

The boulder shattered into fist-sized rocks upon impact. Dust coated his knuckles, but his hand didn’t even bleed. "What just happened?"

[STR 115 + END 240: Physical Resistance High.]

Then a low growl came from the top of his head, a mechanical wolf jumping down the hole that the boulder fell from.

Stun’s arrow stabbed it to the ground. Within the toxic miasma, it burned to a crisp.

Benign stared at the charred metallic construct. Whatever civilisation had existed before, that could build mechanical animals and implant toxic gas, was definitely terrifying.

"Thanks, Stun." Benign shook the dust off. He took a deep breath, then pushed forward into the thick of the Miasma.

"Where are you going?" Stun stared at the soldier in disbelief.

There was no doubt that the Protector had gone crazy. Protectors of the realms were typically expected to perform senseless acts of self-sacrifice for others, but witnessing it firsthand still surprised him.

"I will be fine." Benign said to Stun and answered Vergil’s questioning glare.

His words were a lie. He knew they knew that too.

There was no clear expectation, but there were real stakes. People could die. Not just him.

However, he had already lost his mind in the war. A good amount of senselessness was needed to merge self-sacrifice with bravery and sneak into the enemy’s quarters frequently.

He pushed forward into the thick of the Miasma. His skin stung, and he hissed in pain.

[-5 HP]

The Dark Miasma felt like salted water touching a gash. He had swum in a sea with open wounds before.

"I’ll be fine." He repeated more confidently than the first time.

Closing his eyes to avoid the miasma getting in, he trudged in. He groaned as the heavy air engulfed him, making his skin tremble. His steps increased, but the miasma clashed with his body harshly, and his legs began to waver.

[-7 HP.]

"Shut up." He murmured with breaking lips. "Couldn’t you just do it all at once..."

The air tasted like rotten bodies and sulphur. A mixture he didn’t think he’d ever taste at once.

[-15 HP.]

Benign stretched his hand towards the door so he could open it the moment he felt it. The elf men retreated farther as the miasma continued to spread.

"Concentrate... on only... me..." He coughed as the forbidden air entered his lungs.

His breath seized. He endured the burns till his right hand hit a hard surface.

Immediately, he twisted the handle. Using all his strength, he pushed the gate open.

Feeling a sense of euphoria at the pain soon coming to an end, he made sense of the words he heard from Vergil. "Benign, stop! You are badly hurt, and I doubt our medicine can keep up!"

The door was almost open. Benign planted his feet firmly. With a groan, he pushed it all the way to the end and fell to his knees when he hit a wall.

The pain gradually lessened with his regeneration catching up with the burns.

"Benign! It... stopped..."

Hearing Vergil, Benign let out a big exhale and freed the forbidden air in his lungs. The pain racking through his body was nothing compared to the satisfaction he felt.

It was always a thing of pride to protect his unit. Once again, there was no casualty. Except for him, which barely mattered.

[You should work on your saviour complex, Host.]

Benign’s brows knitted together, but he waited for his lips to heal before retorting. "You are not one to talk. How did you help me through any of this other than reminding me of my reducing health points?"

He checked the health points, and he had lost 54 points in only a short while.

[If a system had all the answers, it wouldn’t look for experienced soldiers from different parts of the universe to help solve the problems.]

[It would simply guide a child to it.]

Benign stayed quiet, then sighed.

The system just admitted he searched through universes for those who became Legacy Systemists. That confirmed he was the recent one, but likely not the only one.

The soldier wondered if their experiences and trials had all been the same. How many were there if the last one, Ashold, was currently dead? What would happen if any of them failed their mission? Who was the first one sent here?

Most importantly, what would happen if they met each other? He could imagine what he’d do if he found a fellow Systemist.

Avoid them as much as he could.

They’d be just as capable as he was, or much more. He had no idea how lucky the others had been with their skills.

He stopped his thinking and checked his wounds. They were still there. His regeneration was shit.

[You can finish your mission. The Gate finally obeyed.]

Benign scoffed. ’Obeyed?’

He held the handle to pull himself off the ground, but before he could, someone pulled him up.

"Thanks, Stun." He faced him, and the elf looked confused, annoyed, and impressed.

"You rushed in because you have a blessing of regeneration, no doubt." Stun looked at Benign’s discolored skin. "It is taking its time."

The soldier agreed. "But don’t worry. I can handle a little bit of everything. At least, this plan worked."

"And that’s all we’d thank the Goddess for that." Vergil scolded, walking towards them with crossed arms. "Imagine if it didn’t. I might have died of a heart attack before the actual danger."

Benign watched the scholar with a fond smile. The elf reminded him of his overly concerned grandmother. Stun pushed the other part of the door open. He walked in first, then Vergil followed.

"There’s nothing here," Vergil said inside.

Benign rushed in. His eyes darted about the empty, dark hall. Nothing popped up. The ground below felt soft, with black water seeping from the cracks in the ground.

Looking at everything that showed nothing, the pain racking his bones intensified. "What the hell!"

Vergil jolted on hearing him shout.

The elf nervously tapped the walls inside the gate. He felt wetness all over. He looked around the dark hall, and the leaking walls were all he could find.

He turned to the seething soldier and said in a small voice. "I-I can’t begin to wonder where we are. Or how water got in." He looked back at the illuminated cave. "I can’t explain how the light came. Nothing is interesting in here either."

The place held far more mysteries than it had during his last visit. That should have excited him. Instead, the near-death experiences tempered Vergil’s curiosity. Now they had opened a lonely chamber that held nothing.

The elves combed through the hall, looking for something they weren’t sure of but expected to find. Eventually, they turned to Benign with questioning expressions, saying nothing.

"Lego," Benign said, his voice almost inaudible. "Where is the fucking Blade of Centuries?"