Lucien collapsed onto the floor, his breath coming in ragged gasps as cold sweat soaked through his skin. His fingers curled weakly against the wood, body tense, as if bracing against something that had already passed.
What he had just experienced felt like nothing more than a series of disjointed visions, with no explanation attached, so it took a few moments before the meaning behind each memory began to surface.
Those explanations included the name of this body, the life it had lived, his mother's death from a plague, recruitment into an assassin organization called the Twilight Covenant, years spent killing for money, and finally… the Eclipse.
The day the sky tore apart and humanity stood on the brink of extinction. Maybe extinction wasn't quite the right word, considering humans still existed—just no longer as humans. They had turned into aberrations. Hollow, his memories called them. They reduced a significant amount of this city to ruins in a matter of weeks.
This might be the same world…
Lucien realized it bitterly as he slowly pushed himself upright.
From what he now knew, this body—Lucien Mordren—lived in a merchant city called Vel’Sharim, part of the Asterian Empire. The empire itself was dominated by humans and controlled roughly forty percent of the Valdris continent. If not for the Skyspear Mountains dividing the landmass and the cold land in the north, it likely would have expanded even further.
He let out a quiet breath, rubbing a hand over his face as more pieces fell into place.
Naturally, the memories included everything he knew about the sky. The suns, the number of moons, their appearance, even their cycles. The calculations of months, years, hours, minutes, seconds, all identical. Humanity still existed.
The only differences are the races….
Lucien rested his hand against his temple as he sorted through the newly settled memories. Elves, dwarves, drakonids, inferni, nephilim… maybe even more. There's also magic, and access to strange places that don't belong to this world, though I've never been to any of them.
His brows drew together slightly.
What kind of version of the world did I end up in… and how did I even get here?
Lucien couldn't help but question it.
Something that resembled the "system" from the fantasy stories he used to read almost made him fall into the same mindset as their typical protagonists, brushing off its origin as if it didn't matter.
Which, of course, wouldn't make sense.
This world didn't have a system, so how did he end up with one? And why did it seem like the system existed in his original world too? Why him, out of everyone, to be brought here?
The lack of answers made it frustrating.
“…Lucien?”
The voice behind him cut through his thoughts.
He turned, a flicker of confusion crossing his face.
At some point, the woman on the bed had sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes. The blanket had slipped, leaving her upper body uncovered, something Lucien caught a glimpse of before quickly forcing his gaze back to her face, silently cursing himself for having completely forgotten about her until now.
I hope she didn't see whatever nonsense I was doing…
As Lucien’s gaze lingered on her, that faint reddish hue surfaced once more.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
3%.
The number slipped into his mind without warning.
Lucien’s expression tightening for a brief second.
…What?
Not noticing his confusion, the woman’s brows knitted together in mild confusion.
"What are you doing over there?"
Lucien paused for a second, his mind racing.
Right… what kind of answer would Lucien give here?
Overthinking it would only make things worse, so he reached down for his pants and began dressing, smiling lightly while he did. "I was just admiring the view. The town's got a strangely artistic vibe today, don't you think?"
He said it in a light, sarcastic tone. From what he could tell, this Lucien's personality wasn't all that different from his own, so slipping into the role came naturally enough.
However, the way the woman stared at him, as if he had just grown a second head, made him start to second-guess that assumption.
"You're definitely still drunk," she said, getting out of bed and grabbing her wrinkled dress. "Or it's the Corruption acting up again. What did you just say? Artistic? Lucien, you don't even know what that word means."
His lips twitched.
Thinking about it, the real Lucien Mordren did, in fact, know nothing about art.
He exhaled softly through his nose as he finished fastening his pants, expression smoothing back into something composed. “Maybe I just learned,” he replied, tone easy. “People change, you know.”
"Overnight?" The woman—Lyla, his memories supplied, a local tavern worker who occasionally slept with him for money or goods—rolled her eyes. "Whatever. As long as the payment's the same, right? Three loaves of bread and a piece of smoked meat?"
Three loaves of bread, huh?
Post-apocalypse economics really doesn’t mess around.
“Of course,” he said, recovering smoothly as he walked over to a small wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He flipped it open and rummaged briefly before pulling out the bread and smoked meat.
Turning back, he held them out to her. “Here.”
Lyla let out a small, relieved sigh as she took the food, quickly slipping the bread and smoked meat into a cloth wrap she’d brought with her. Her fingers moved with practiced ease as she tied it securely at her side. After that, she adjusted her tattered dress, smoothing it down before stepping closer to him.
Rising onto her toes—she couldn’t have been more than a hundred and fifty centimeters tall—she reached up and pinched his cheek, her lips curling into a playful grin.
“You’re weird this morning,” she said, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him, “but you’re still cute regardless.” She gave his cheek one last light squeeze before letting go. “I’ll head back before Gartha wakes up and realizes I’m not in my room. Take care of yourself, okay?”
Lucien blinked once, caught slightly off guard, but managed a faint, noncommittal smile.
“Yeah. You too.”
With that, she turned and left, the wooden door closing behind her with a soft, muted click.
Lucien lingered for a moment, then let out a long, quiet sigh—he’d lost count of how many times he’d done that today.
“Well… guess I’ll have to get along with this,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
If he didn't adapt quickly, he wouldn't get anywhere.
With a small shake of his head, Lucien refocused his thoughts on the one thing every protagonist in all the novels he had read always did.
System. Status. Menu. Interface. Anything.
He needed to check if he had some kind of cheat.
As if responding to his call, a transparent window appeared before his eyes.
[Devourer's Covenant — Active]
Lucien stared at the floating panel. Whether it hovered in the air or existed only in his mind, he couldn't quite tell.
The panel flickered, expanding and displaying more detailed information.
[Status]
Name: Lucien Mordren
Age: 22
Race: Half-Inferni (Abyssally Infected)
Level: 2
Experience Points (XP): 87 / 200
Corruption Points (CP): 73 / 200
Skill Points (SP): 1
Attributes:
Strength: 12
Agility: 14
Endurance: 12
Perception: 15
Charisma: 12
Passive Skills:
[Corruption Detection] – Allows detection of corruption levels within a 50-meter radius.
[Enhanced Physiology] – Body adapted through Covenant training. +20% Regeneration Speed, +15% Stamina
Active Skills: None unlocked
***
Lucien stared at the screen with a visible frown. The first thing he noticed was that both his XP and CP, whatever the latter meant, were already partially filled.
Did Lucien Mordren get the System before me?
From the memories he’d seen, there was no sign of interface or system-related things.
But then where did this come from?
He tried to trace back anything unusual leading up to his transmigration, sifting through the fragments more carefully this time.
A few things surfaced.
When the Eclipse occurred, it tore through the barriers between planes—most notably the Abyssal Underplane. From that breach, Corruption spilled into the world in the form of miasma, seeping into the air and spreading its influence across pretty much everything it touched.
As he recalled earlier, this world was home to a variety of races, each affected differently. The Inferni were known for their high resistance to Corruption, alongside other Abyss-aligned races like dark elves and deep dwarves. On the opposite end, those aligned against the Abyss suffered the worst of it, with the Nephilim standing out as the most vulnerable.
Even so, resistance didn’t mean immunity.
Lucien had inherited Inferni blood from his mother. Since he was only half, his resistance should have been lower than that of a full-blooded Inferni.
Instead, Lucien's Corruption level never crossed into anything dangerous…
It seemed the original Lucien had noticed that as well. He had even tried spending time in areas thick with miasma, but after a few days of rest in low-exposure zones, his condition would return to safe levels.
In low-exposure zones, it would normally take months for Corruption to reach anything truly dangerous. In high-exposure areas, though, it was a different story entirely. A few hours could be enough to push someone over the edge and turn them into a Hollow.
He had deliberately gone into high-exposure zones—again and again. Enough times that, by all logic, he should’ve crossed into critical stages at least a dozen times.
And yet… he never did.
Lucien’s brows knit together, a faint tension settling across his face.
That’s not just resistance.
Not just that, but according to his memories, the ability to perceive Corruption had already existed since the Eclipse. He had never told anyone about it.
Lucien’s gaze drifted back to the floating panel, eyes narrowing slightly.
Did the System already exist back then? But it's dormant and only awakened when I transmigrated?
He exhaled quietly, considering it. It wasn’t that far-fetched. The system was only at level two. If Experience Points and Corruption Points were gained by killing Hollows—the byproducts of the Eclipse—then it lined up. The original Lucien had killed more than enough of them.
His focus shifted to the Corruption Points section.
"But what is that feature supposed to be?" he muttered, frowning. "An XP is one thing, but a CP? How am I supposed to gain it consistently?"
As if responding, the panel shifted. New lines of text appeared, forming slowly.
[Corruption Point Acquisition Method]
1. Purification Through Intimacy (Primary)
The Host can absorb Corruption from infected individuals through prolonged intimate contact, especially physical intimacy. This process can:
- Reduce the target's Corruption level (effectiveness depends on duration, current relationship, and intensity)
- Converts absorbed Corruption into Corruption Points (CP) for the Host, which can then be refined into Skill Points (SP) by digesting 100 CP. Any unprocessed CP will gradually be purged from the body over time, preventing buildup, though it can also be deliberately expended to avoid adverse side effects.
- Leave a "Mark" on the purified target (effect: binds the target from revealing your abilities as a base skill; allows partial stat sharing as the relationship deepens; enables skill and thought sharing at higher levels; etc.)
Note: The higher the target's Corruption level, the greater the CP gained.
Warning: Excessive accumulation of CP without conversion may cause overload in the Host, triggering random skill activation or a full CP purge. It is recommended to process CP periodically.
2. Killing Abyssal—
***
Lucien didn’t even make it to the second method. His eyes stayed locked on the first one as if to make sure he had not misunderstood.
"Purification through intimacy? Seriously?" He let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Out of everything… I end up with a sex-based system?"