Ascension Hunter[Template System]

In the unforgiving world of Arkena, where power dictated survival, titles and strength were everything. For Anastasius Grimes, a G-Ranked Hunter, his worth was less than nothing.

Anastasius—or rather, the soul now inhabiting his body—cursed the cruel hand fate had dealt him. Before this, he had been nothing more than a broken, emotionally shattered otaku. His past life on Earth had been a cruel series of tragedies that had left him obsessed with novels, anime, and manhwa—escapism for a life that never afforded him peace. A freak accident on a rainy night had claimed his life unexpectedly, but instead of finding rest, he woke up in a strange, merciless world.

Reincarnated as the weakest hunter in a realm where strength was the only currency, Anastasius quickly learned that there were no second chances. Unlike the stories he used to read, there was no system to guide him, no cheat abilities to give him an edge, and no divine blessing to ensure his survival.

He had nothing.

For two grueling years, Anastasius pushed his frail, powerless body to its limits. He trained relentlessly in cramped guild halls, hunted the weakest monsters that even beginner hunters scoffed at, and survived on scraps in a run-down apartment that barely qualified as shelter. Despite his relentless effort, despite every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears he poured into his training, the peak of G-Rank—the very bottom rung of hunters—was all he could achieve.

Still, he survived. And in a world where the weak were crushed without mercy, that alone was an achievement.

Until today.

The stench of rot filled the air in the dungeon, clinging to his skin and choking his lungs. Anastasius tightened his grip on the worn dagger in his trembling hand, his heart pounding like a war drum against his ribcage. The damp, mana-infused walls seemed to close in around him, each step feeling heavier than the last.

He glanced nervously at his party—four hunters who had agreed to help him clear this F-Rank dungeon. Their smiles had seemed so genuine at the start, their words so encouraging. For the first time in years, Anastasius had allowed himself a glimmer of hope. He thought, perhaps foolishly, that he had finally found comrades—maybe even friends.

But now, that hope felt like the cruelest of jokes.

The dungeon trembled, its walls glowing an ominous crimson. The faint hum of mana in the air turned sharp and violent, a warning of the danger to come. A bone-chilling growl echoed from deep within the cavern, the sound primal and otherworldly, sending shivers down Anastasius's spine.

"This… this isn't normal," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "This was supposed to be an F-Rank dungeon!"

Gerald, the leader of the group, turned to him with a smirk that froze Anastasius in place. His once-friendly demeanor had vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating malice. "Yeah… about that."

Before Anastasius could react, two of the other hunters grabbed him from behind, their grips like iron shackles.

"W-what's going on?" Anastasius struggled, panic flooding his veins like ice.

Gerald stepped closer, his boots echoing ominously on the stone floor. His eyes, devoid of empathy, bore into Anastasius. "Sorry, Ana. But we needed bait, and you're just weak enough to fit the bill."

Anastasius's heart sank. The camaraderie, the encouragement—it had all been a lie. They hadn't brought him here to help him. They'd brought him here to die.

Anastasius's voice broke as he shouted, "You're lying! This isn't about bait, is it?"

Gerald's grin widened, a cruel gleam in his eyes. "Sharp, aren't you? You're right, Ana. It's not just about bait."

"Then why?"" Anastasius demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

The leader's grin turned into a sneer. "Our boss is in love with Emma Markson. You know, your precious little friend? She seems so happy around you, and that's enough to make our boss jealous. Seeing you with her drives him insane. So, he gave us a simple order: kill you."

Anastasius froze, his mind reeling. Emma was his only friend, the one person who treated him like a human being. And now, his association with her had painted a target on his back.

Gerald continued, his tone mocking. "Honestly, how did a piece of trash like you even get close to someone like her? She's from the Markson Clan—a great family with influence and power. And you? You're nothing. Just a lucky motherf*cker who got to bask in her light for a little while."

Anastasius laughed bitterly, his broken smile filled with pain. "You're right. I was lucky. Emma… she's been the only light in my miserable life. But why wait a month to kill me? Why pretend to be my friends? You gave me hope, only to rip it away. I thought, for once, I'd found people I could trust. But…" His voice cracked, the words catching in his throat. "Just kill me. I have no reason to live anymore."

The memory of his past life flashed before him. His parents, murdered when he was six. His sister, only fifteen, brutally assaulted and killed because his father refused a mafia gang's demands. He had watched helplessly as everyone he loved was taken from him.

For ten years, he had endured the horrors of the underworld. Tortured, broken, and used as a pawn, he had been forced to endure unspeakable acts, including being violated for over a year when he was only eleven. They made him their toy, their tool for carrying out their dirty work.

Yet somehow, Anastasius had survived. He had stolen some of their money and fled, escaping to a foreign land where he tried to start anew. But the scars of his past never truly left him. He was numb to pain, both physical and emotional. His life had been nothing but suffering, a cruel game played by fate.

Even when he thought he could begin living again, fate had stolen that chance too. A car accident had ended his life on Earth, only to throw him into this new world of suffering.

"Tell Emma…" Anastasius whispered, his voice barely audible. "Tell her to leave flowers on my mother's grave. That's all I ask."

As Gerald stepped forward, ready to deliver the final blow, Anastasius closed his eyes. He had survived so much, endured so much pain. But now, he felt the weight of it all crushing him.