Awakening: Mage of Oblivion with SSS-Level Infinite Evolution Talent Chapter 108: Over 1 Million Experience Points, Completing Ol

Ding!

---

[You have killed "Demonic Ruins Leader, Agras" (Level 40 Mythical-Rank Special Boss NPC)"]

[You have killed x59 "Demonic Ruins Soldier (Level 38)"]

[You have gained 1,013,000 experience points!]

[Congratulations, you have leveled up to Level 37 Level 38!]

[You have gained 10 points in all of your attributes, and 10 free points to distribute.]

[You have gained 35 Evolution Points!]

[You have gained 6,000 Lives!]

---

’Damn!’

Stark clenched his fists, feeling the adrenaline still pumping in his veins.

The amount of experience points was insane, way beyond what he expected.

His breathing was rough, but a proud smile stretched across his face.

He had done it. He had actually done it.

Agras, a boss that nobody had ever managed to defeat in his past life, now lay dead at his feet.

Stark had shattered that wall with his own hands.

’I really managed to pull this off...’

For a second, he just stood there, letting the weight of the achievent sink in.

The battlefield was silent now.

A silence only broken by the faint crackling of mana lingering in the air from the spells he had unleashed.

’I wonder... if the other civilizations went through the sa thing.’

The thought ca suddenly, sharper than he expected.

Normally, Stark wasn’t one to overthink like this.

He wasn’t the type to sit and reflect on the "bigger picture."

But this ti... he couldn’t help it.

[Eternal Soul] wasn’t just his world’s trial. He knew it.

There were countless other civilizations connected to it.

So the question lingered. Were they also fighting through zones like this?

Bleeding, dying, respawning, crawling forward just to survive?

Or were their "realms" completely different from his?

Stark didn’t know.

What he did know was that [Eternal Soul] was built on fairness, or at least the illusion of it.

Opportunities existed for everyone. The difference was in who managed to seize them.

And if that was true... then maybe, at so point, if he pushed deep enough into the ga, he’d et them.

All of them. Other civilizations. Other warriors clawing for survival.

Enemies, allies, or sothing in between.

But before the thought could spiral further—

Ding!

[Your "Curse Flower" has taken 5,400 Lives from demons.]

Stark’s grin returned.

’Nice.’

All around him, crimson flowers blood from the corpses of the fallen demons, their petals glistening faintly before they dissolved into particles.

The scent of ash lingered, but Stark didn’t mind.

These flowers fed him lives. And one by one, the bodies vanished.

Even Agras, the Demonic Leader, couldn’t escape the countdown rule.

NPCs always respawned after a set ti, and Agras was no exception.

In one hour, he’d return.

Stark knew so powerful NPCs had exceptions, reduced countdowns, unique chanics, but that wasn’t the case here.

That would co later. For now, he ignored it.

The important part was this:

[Lives: 60,694]

Stark raised an eyebrow.

The battle had earned him nearly eleven thousand lives.

Enough to last through hundreds of deaths if he stayed outside.

It sounded ridiculous. Any other player would be thrilled, relieved even.

But Stark’s expression stayed hard. Because he knew the truth.

The [Land of Mist] alone drained lives at a rate of 1,000.

Every death there cost ten tis as much.

And after that? It only climbed higher.

If you weren’t ready, if you didn’t have an absurd stockpile of lives, you were done.

That was the main reason players got stuck.

It wasn’t just the monsters or the chanics of the zones.

It was the simple math: lives.

He rembered it clearly.

The [Fortress of the Damned]. A zone buried deep within [Eternal Soul].

It was mandatory if you wanted to move forward.

But the lives loss rate was so absurdly high, entire guilds fard for months, sotis years, before daring to even attempt it.

And Stark? He wasn’t exempt.

Even when he had tead up with Max and Seren, the three of them had chosen to wait, grinding endlessly before daring to step foot inside.

Not even monsters like [Ghost] or [EvilDemon] had ignored that.

No matter how strong you were, lives were the great limiter.

But now... Now Stark wondered.

What if he could tear through these zones faster?

What if he broke the chains that had shackled everyone in his past life?

Maybe this ti, he could reach further inside of [Eternal Soul], into whatever lay beyond this "first part."

Ding!

[You have completed Olikar’s Special Quest: "Conquer the Demonic Ruins by Killing the Demonic Leader"]

’Good.’

Ding!

[You have received 5,000 Lives and "Olikar’s Note"]

Stark blinked.

"Huh."

A "???" reward, and it turned out to be a note.

Still... information was valuable. Sotis more valuable than power itself.

If this note contained even a fragnt of knowledge about sothing, Stark would be satisfied.

But first things first.

The battlefield glittered faintly with loot. The demons had dropped plenty of gear.

Most of it wasn’t useful to him, but that didn’t matter.

He swept it all into his inventory.

Gear ant trades. Trades ant leverage.

Then his eyes landed on Agras’ corpse.

The Demonic Leader had dropped sothing far more valuable.

---

[Demonic Leader’s Dual Swords (Mythical): Warrior/Sentinel/Tank-type weapon. 3,500 Strength. Requirent: Level 40.]

[Demonic Buff (Passive): When on the verge of death, boost the user’s strength and speed.]

[Dual Crimson Slash (Active): Only usable when wielding BOTH swords. Slash the air to form an X-shaped attack that deals 3,000% of Strength.]

---

’Damn.’

Even Stark had to pause at that.

Two skills. That alone made the swords absurd.

Most gear didn’t even have one, and if it did, it was usually sothing small.

But this? A massive strength buff at death’s door, plus an ultimate-level active skill.

If Stark had owned these in his past life as a warrior, the [Land of Mist] would’ve been a joke.

Entire days of grinding could have been skipped.

Too bad he couldn’t use them.

A flicker of disappointnt crossed his face.

He wasn’t a Warrior, Sentinel, or Tank.

Still, he tightened his jaw. The [Mage of Oblivion] was the strongest class.

He believed that as the [Authority of Oblivion] itself had told him so.

These swords might’ve been tempting, but they weren’t ant for him.

’I just need a better staff,’ he muttered.

That was all. And as if answering his thought, the small locked gate in front of him groaned open, gears clanking as the path revealed itself.

Behind it... a massive chamber.

Stark’s grin returned.

’Of course.’

The [Demonic Ruins] was still a zone. And every zone had a final reward. A chest.

And this one would be his.

For the first ti across both lives, Stark would be the one to claim it.

The demons had already fled, too terrified to remain near him.

That left Stark walking forward in silence, the echo of his boots filling the space.

The chamber was vast, lined with demonic carvings, and at its far end stood a throne carved from obsidian.

It lood like a shadow, oppressive and cold.

But Stark’s attention wasn’t on the throne. It was on what sat before it.

Ding!

[You have entered the "Leader’s Room"]

There it was. In the center of the chamber, glowing faintly with a crimson light, was the chest.

[Mythical Chest]

"Amazing..."

His first mythical chest of this life. And it was his to claim.

He stepped forward, every instinct thrumming with anticipation.

Above the throne, a tir ticked.

[57 minutes 49 seconds]

That was when Agras would respawn. Less than an hour.

Stark barely spared it a glance. That wasn’t his concern.

Right now, there was only one thing that mattered.

He placed his hand on the chest, pouring mana into the lock.

And...

Click!

The sound echoed like a promise. It was his for the taking!