My System Is a Fallen God: I Level Up Endlessly

The morning sun filtered through the small wooden window of the inn. Saile sat on the edge of a soft feather bed, wrapping fresh linen bandages around his forearms. For the first time since the Leviathan destroyed Orali, his body actually felt rested. The heavy leather pouch of gold coins he had earned from the Abyssal Hound core sat safely on the nightstand beside him.

He stretched his arms, feeling the incredible, tight power of his Level 22 muscles. His broken ribs were completely healed. The cuts and bruises from the Heretic cult hideout were gone. He was safe, and he had enough money to start planning his next move to rescue his little sister, Avery.

But the peaceful morning did not last long.

A loud, violent ringing echoed across the frontier city of Valerius.

It was not a normal church bell.

It was a heavy, deep, magical sound that rattled the wooden floorboards and made Saile’s teeth physically ache. Suddenly, a crushing, suffocating pressure dropped directly over the entire city. It felt like a massive iron blanket had just fallen out of the clear blue sky.

The air grew thick, heavy, and incredibly hot.

It was hard to breathe.

"Get up, boy," Naicul hissed sharply inside Saile’s mind.

The ancient God did not sound bored or sarcastic today.

He sounded fully awake and completely serious.

"We have a massive problem."

Saile jumped out of bed instantly. He grabbed his torn tunic, throwing it over his head, and grabbed the hilt of his stolen steel sword. He carefully peeked out the small window of his room, looking down at the main dirt street below.

The normal morning traffic had stopped completely.

Merchants and mercenaries were frozen in place, staring toward the main gates.

A large group of highly armored men marched aggressively into Valerius. They moved in perfect, terrifying synchronization. They wore thick, shining silver armor trimmed with pure gold. Heavy white cloaks dragged behind them in the dirt.

But the man leading them drew all of Saile’s attention.

The leader was a giant of a man. He sat on top of a massive white armored horse that snorted hot steam into the morning air. The man wore a glowing gold breastplate that radiated a blinding, holy light.

In his right hand, he held a strange, floating compass made of dark metal.

The needle of the compass spun wildly in a circle before locking firmly in one specific direction.

Red System screens flashed instantly in front of Saile’s eyes, warning him of the terrible danger.

[Target: Church Executor.]

[Level: 48.]

[Talent: S-Rank (Holy Light).]

[Threat Level: Extreme.]

"A Gold-Rank Executor," Saile whispered out loud.

His heart hammered hard against his ribs.

Level 48 was an insane amount of power.

"He is holding a God-slaying compass," Naicul growled darkly in his head. "Your little stunt back in Orali finally caught up to us. That compass does not track normal magic. It specifically tracks my EX-Rank dark mana. It is looking for the exact magical frequency of the spell I used to turn those Inquisitors into blood mist."

Saile watched the Executor raise the compass high into the air.

The glowing needle pointed straight toward the center of the city.

It pointed exactly at the Hunter’s Guild.

"He is tracking the Abyssal Hound core I turned in last night," Saile realized with a cold shock.

"The dark mana on that core is massive."

"Exactly," Naicul replied coldly. "But once he gets to the guild, he will easily figure out you are the one who brought it in. The Guild Master will not protect you from the Holy Church. They will know the F-Rank peasant named Ghost is actually the Heretic from the beach."

Down in the street, the Gold-Rank Executor pulled hard on his horse’s heavy leather reins. He raised his free hand, and his voice boomed magically across the entire city, amplified by his S-Rank holy talent.

"Seal the gates!" the Executor roared.

His powerful voice actually shook the glass in Saile’s window, threatening to shatter it completely.

"No one leaves Valerius! The Heretic is hiding within these walls. Find him, and bring him to me alive so I can burn the corruption from his soul!"

Heavy iron gates slammed shut all across the outer city walls with loud, booming clangs.

Church guards flooded the streets immediately, kicking open wooden doors and dragging innocent people out of their homes.

The entire city was on total lockdown.

Saile stepped back from the window. He tied his heavy pouch of gold and his shiny Silver Rank tag to his worn leather belt. He gripped the hilt of his stolen steel sword tightly.

"Let me out," Naicul demanded fiercely. "Give me control right now, Saile. I will tear that Gold-Rank fool right off his high horse. I will crush his skull and break that tracking compass into a thousand pieces."

"No," Saile thought back firmly. "He is Level 48. He has an S-Rank holy talent. If you take over and fight him, the magical fallout will destroy the entire city. Thousands of innocent people will die in the crossfire. And my Sync Rate will go up again. We are not fighting him head-on."

"Then what is your genius plan, fisherman?" Naicul mocked angrily. "You cannot fight him, and you cannot run. The city is sealed."

"We hide," Saile said. "We play cat-and-mouse until I find a blind spot in their perimeter."

Saile heard heavy boots stomping loudly up the wooden stairs of the inn.

The Church guards were already searching the building.

They were kicking down doors on the first floor.

He did not have time to use the stairs.

Saile pushed his window open completely. He climbed out onto the wooden ledge, looking down at the street.

Two silver-armored guards were standing directly below him, holding long spears.

Saile took a deep breath.

He dropped from the second-story window.

He did not use a single drop of EX-Rank dark mana. He relied entirely on his raw Level 22 physical stats.

As he fell through the air, he tucked his chin and twisted his body sharply. He landed perfectly on top of a canvas merchant’s awning, bouncing off the thick fabric to break his fall.

He launched himself off the awning and hit the dirt street behind the two guards. He dropped into a tight shoulder roll recovery, silently killing his momentum.

Before the guards could even turn around to see what made the noise, Saile was already moving.

He planted his boots and swept his right leg across the dirt in a rapid spin sweep. His heavy boot crashed into the back of the guards’ knees simultaneously.

Both men crumpled to the ground with a loud clatter of silver armor.

Saile did not wait for them to recover.

He pushed off the dirt and sprinted directly into the narrow gap between two stone buildings.

"They are swarming the main streets," Naicul observed coldly. "They are setting up checkpoints at every intersection. This cat-and-mouse game of yours is going to get us killed."

"I just need to stay out of sight," Saile replied.

He dashed through the backyards of the local homes, hopping over low wooden fences with smooth, easy vaults.

The sounds of shouting guards echoed from every direction.

The city of Valerius had instantly transformed into a deadly, locked cage.

Saile pressed his back flat against a cold stone wall, catching his breath.

He peeked around the corner.

A squad of five heavily armed Church guards was marching down the road, searching every wagon and barrel they passed.

The overwhelming threat of the S-Rank holy user was pressing down on him.

He could not fight a Gold-Rank Executor.

He could not fight fifty guards at once.

He was vastly out-leveled, and his enemies had total control of the battlefield.

The deadly hunt had officially begun.

And Saile was the prey.

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