Finley did not stop running until his lungs felt like they were tearing apart.

  The battlefield faded behind him, swallowed by smoke and collapsing stone, but the terror clung to his skin like ash. Every shadow felt like a blade. Every sound—his own heartbeat included—felt too loud.

  He stumbled through broken terrain, forcing the battered body of Caelum Ardent onward through sheer desperation. Blood soaked his torn armor. His muscles screamed with every step. This body could shatter armies—but right now, it felt like a walking corpse held together by will alone.

  When he finally collapsed, it was beneath the overhang of a half-buried ruin—a fractured stone vault from some forgotten age. The entrance was narrow, choked with debris, just wide enough for him to crawl inside.

  Darkness swallowed him whole.

  Only then did he allow himself to breathe.

  His chest rose and fell violently as he pressed his back against the cold stone. The silence inside the shelter was absolute, broken only by the sound of his own breath and the distant, dying rumble of the battlefield far behind him.

  He was alive.

  Barely.

  Then suddenly the memories come again.

  They came uninvited, vivid and merciless.

  A slave dragged across stone, screaming as Caelum calmly ordered his legs broken—not for disobedience, but to send a message.

  A companion flinching when Caelum turned his gaze on them, knowing one wrong word could mean exile—or worse.

  An entire village kneeling in silence, fear so thick it felt heavier than air.

  Finley clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

  “No,” he whispered hoarsely. “No… that’s not me.”

  But the body remembered.

  The ease with which it inflicted pain.

  The certainty that fear was efficient.

  The cold logic that justified cruelty as necessity.

  It made him sick.

  This was the kind of person he had hated—feared—his entire life. Someone who used strength to crush the weak. Someone who decided who deserved to live without ever asking.

  And now—

  I’m wearing his skin.

  Finley doubled over, dry heaving, his body trembling. Not from pain.

  From disgust.

  He had been bullied. Beaten. Treated like nothing.

  And now the world would look at him and see as the worst kind of monster.

  He slammed his fist against the stone wall, the impact cracking the rock. He froze instantly, heart racing, listening for any sign he’d been heard.

  Nothing.

  Only silence.

  His strength scared him.

  —

  Hours passed. Or minutes. Time lost meaning in the dark.

  When the shaking finally subsided, Finley forced himself to think.

  If they know I’m alive… they’ll hunt me.

  That was certain.

  Every kingdom. Every faction that had united to kill Caelum would not hesitate to finish the job. They would not negotiate. They would not listen.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  They would not believe him.

  Because to them, Caelum Ardent was not a man.

  He was a catastrophe.

  I can’t go to a city.

  I can’t ask for help.

  I can’t even let anyone see my face.

  Even peasants would scream. Guards would attack on sight. Children would cry at his shadow.

  This body had no place in the world.

  “Arggh.. no matter where in the world I go, I just never seem to belong," he said, frustrated.

  Finley pressed his forehead against the stone, breathing slowly.

  Think.

  Then suddenly he remembered something.

  “No active regeneration,” the mage said. “No conscious mana flow.”

  “Wait regeneration!”

  The screen appeared without warning.

  Finley flinched violently, back slamming into stone as pale blue light flooded the darkness of the ruin.

  Floating in the air before his eyes.

  Sharp. Clean. Unmistakably unreal.

  [HERO STATUS — CAELUM ARDENT]

  ? Authority Level: Absolute

  Finley’s breath caught.

  the screen simply continued showing stats.

  Strength: ■■■■■■■■■■ (MAX)

  Agility: ■■■■■■■■■■ (MAX)

  Endurance: ■■■■■■■■■■ (MAX)

  Vitality: ■■■■■■■■■■ (MAX)

  Perception: ■■■■■■■■■■ (MAX)

  Mana Capacity: ∞

  Mana Control: Perfect

  Mana Regeneration: Perfect

  The numbers didn’t make sense.

  There were no values. No limits. No visible

  ceilings.

  Just MAX.

  Just infinite.

  “This… this isn’t normal,” he whispered.

  Before he could think, another pulse of pain tore through his body. A delayed consequence of the execution—shattered bones grinding, organs screaming in protest. His vision darkened, breath hitching painfully in his chest.

  Blood spilled freely from wounds that should have killed any living being.

  Finley clutched his side, fingers sinking into torn flesh.

  “I—I need to stop the bleeding—”

  [CRITICAL DAMAGE DETECTED]

  [Initiating Autonomous Restoration]

  Then—

  Pain reversed.

  Finley gasped as heat surged through his body like liquid fire flowing backward through shattered veins. He watched in stunned horror as torn muscle fibers pulled themselves together. Bones realigned with wet, grinding sounds. Skin sealed shut as if time itself was being rewound.

  Blood flowed back into his body.

  Wounds vanished.

  Scars disappeared.

  In seconds the damage from an execution was simply… gone.

  Finley staggered back, staring at his hands.

  Unblemished.

  Unmarked.

  “No..way…” he whispered.

  The screen updated.

  [ Absolute Regeneration ]

  ? Restores all physical damage instantly

  ? Functions independently of consciousness

  ? Immune to poison, disease, decay

  Finley exhaled slowly, steadying his racing heart, and with a thought alone—

  The screen unfolded again–violently, layers of translucent panels stacking over one another like a blueprint being forcibly revealed.

  His eyes widened.

  “So there’s… more,” he whispered.

  Skill:

  [ Output Scaling ]

  ? Damage increases based on opponent’s resistance

  ? Ignores conventional defense thresholds

  [ Absolute Fury ]

  ? A single cleave can unleash a wave of superheated energy that can melt armor, ignite surroundings and send multiple enemies flying with its sheer kinetic impact

  ? Cannot be fully blocked

  [ Impact Resonance ]

  ? Focusing immense power into a single, devastating overhead strike, the user imbues their sword with earth-shattering force

  [ Overdrive Edge ]

  ? This skill pushes the user's physical limits beyond safe thresholds for a short burst

  ( While active, the user moves with unnatural agility and strikes with unparalleled might, but the skill places a heavy strain on their body, making it a high-risk, high-reward ability for critical moments )

  [ Calamity Severance: World End Cleave ]

  ? The ultimate expression of destructive power. The user pours every ounce of their physical, mental, and spiritual energy into a single, overwhelming strike. The sword glows with an almost blinding light, resonating with a force that distorts the air around it. a catastrophic force that leaves a monumental scar on the landscape, capable of splitting multiple mountains, parting seas, or utterly obliterating armies. The sheer scale of its destructive capability is unparalleled, a true "world-ending" strike

  Ultimate Skill:

  [ Unraveling Cascade: Entropy ]

  ?

  ? A terrifyingly precise yet utterly destructive skill. The user strikes a target with a specific, complex series of incredibly rapid and deep cuts. Each cut doesn't just wound; it subtly disrupts the target's fundamental structural integrity at a molecular or even conceptual level. Like pulling a thread, the cuts cause a chain reaction of internal collapse, making the target rapidly and violently "unravel" from within, dissolving into a chaotic cascade of matter and energy. The effect is horrifyingly efficient, turning even the most formidable foes into disorganized particles

  [ Dimensional Rift: Abyss Cleave ]

  ?

  ? The user's sword doesn't cut space; it tears it open. With a powerful, arcing swing, they create a massive, unstable rift that connects directly to a hostile, void-like dimension or the deepest part of the conceptual "Abyss." This rift instantly sucks in everything within its immense radius – armies, cities, landmasses and shreds them into non-existence as they're pulled into an alien, crushing vacuum. The skill leaves a temporary, terrifying scar on reality before sealing, a testament to its reality-devouring power

  As Finley gazed upon it a terrifying realization dawned.

  “Imagine the sheer, unbridled chaos I could unleash if I wielded these skills.'”

  “And what is more terrifying is what if the enemy's failed to instantly nullify this body. It would surely unleash utterly devastating outcomes. It's precisely because they know the terrifying consequences that they are so determined to see this vessel eradicated.”

  Then suddenly a new screen appeared.

  Something different.

  [UNKNOWN FUNCTION DETECTED]

  Access Condition: Host Intent Required

  Finley froze.

  “What… is that?”

  The symbols pulsed faintly, as if watching him back.

  Open.

  The interface flickered violently.

  [Warning: Identity Layer Modification]

  Proceed?

  Yes / No

  His mind raced.

  Identity.

  They killed Caelum because the world knew his face.

  Because his name alone inspired terror.

  If he stepped outside like this…

  He would be hunted again.

  Finley’s finger hovered.

  Then—

  “Yes.”

  Then..

  His apperance started being ripped apart and rewritten.

  His vision blurred as warmth surged across his scalp.

  Golden hair spilled down, radiant yet restrained—unmistakably striking.

  His eyes—

  Yellow-gold.

  A gaze that felt sharp, intelligent, and dangerous in a quiet way.

  The screen flickered and showed Finley his new look.

  “I guess no one would recognize this is Caleum Ardent and this look was way more handsome.”

  The screen finalized the process.

  [ Authority Skill: Veil of the Unnamed ]

  Status: Active

  ? Alters physical appearance at will

  ? Suppresses Hero Recognition

  ? Overrides fate-based identification

  ? True identity concealed unless Authority is challenged

  Current Form:

  Hair — Golden Yellow

  Eyes — Golden Yellow

  Presence — Suppressed

  The pressure vanished.

  The air felt… normal.

  For the first time since awakening in Caelum’s body, Finley could breathe.

  “I guess they won’t truly recognize me because of this Authority Skill.”

  Then the last line appeared.

  Note:

  This form represents a neutral existence—neither Hero nor Enemy.

  “A body capable of ending worlds.”

  He straightened, golden eyes hardening—not with arrogance, but intent.

  "Caelum Ardent, I believe it's time we re-scripted your tale. And don't you worry, I'll teach you what it truly means to be a hero.”

  "My decision is made. In this world, I will forge a new path.

  —

  He had vowed to walk a new path, to become the hero this world truly needed.

  Could a true hero wield such terrifying might without succumbing to its nature, or was he merely delaying the inevitable, destined to find that the greatest villain of all resided deep within his own body? The journey had just begun, and the precipice of his true identity loomed.