The bombshell had detonated, leaving Mark in a daze. He, a regular dude nad Mark, was now David? David, the frail, Trash mob character from the shitty novel "Trials of Valor"? His head spun like a top, struggling to grasp this bizarre reality shift.
Before he could even stamr a question, Mage Marvel cleared his throat. "Young Master," he began, his voice a comforting rumble, "kindly excuse . I must take my leave."There was a flicker of concern in the old man's eyes, a stark contrast to the chilling pronouncents of Lord Hilton.
"It is a blessing to have you among the living," Mage Marvel continued, placing a gentle hand on Mark's (now David's?) shoulder. "Fear not, Young Master. Rest and regain your strength. I will return in the late hours of the morning to check on you." He shot a pointed look at the still-pale Vivian.
"Get the Young Master sothing to eat. He must be famished."With a swift nod, Mage Marvel vanished through the oak doors as silently as he had appeared. Vivian, finally breaking free from her silent paralysis, scurried behind the mage, her movents jerky and nervous. The weight of the situation, the implication of David's "revival," pressed heavily upon her.
Mark, or should he say David, sank back into the luxurious bed. His mind, still grappling with his fantastical predicant, clung to the last shred of normalcy – hunger. The grumbling of his stomach, a familiar feeling from his old life, provided a much-needed anchor. Maybe, just maybe, a decent al in this topsy-turvy world wouldn't be so bad after all.
Perhaps, with a full stomach and a clear head, he could unravel the mystery of his transformation.
David, a sigh heavy with disbelief, rubbed his temples. "This is just... too much." His mind, overwheld, slowly started to settle. "Damit, why...?" he cursed under his breath.Don't get him wrong, any self-respecting weeb would jump at the chance to be reincarnated into a world of swords and sorcery.
But of course, fate had a cruel sense of humor. He just had to beco David. Not so valiant knight or powerful mage, but David – the town drunk. The guy whose re presence made won clutch their pearls and n tighten their purses. A walking, breathing nuisance who spent his days pickled in ale and his nights terrorizing the good citizens of Aethelwarin.
A reputation so tarnished it could rival a week-old fish.The worst part? David, the original David, was supposed to be dead. Assassinated in a drunken stupor, a knife in his heart – a fitting end for a life so misspent. Except here he was, blinking in a luxurious bed, sohow inhabiting the sa body.
It made a twisted kind of sense. Mark, the original him, had died, and his consciousness had latched onto this vacant shell. But hold on... Mage Marvel confird it wasn't possession. They were all so certain this was David, the real David, miraculously back from the brink.A dizzying swirl of confusion churned in David's head.
Perhaps, just perhaps, their magic wasn't sophisticated enough to differentiate between souls. It was a chilling thought, but the only explanation that fit. He was alive, sure, but at what cost? Living as David left a bitter taste in his mouth, a constant reminder of the wasted life he'd inherited.A flicker of mory sparked in the chaos.
"The voice... earlier," he muttered, trying to grasp the fleeting thought. "Sothing about an Ascendant..."
This couldn't be real, could it? David swallowed hard, a strange certainty blooming in his chest. He spoke the word, a silent command into the unknown: "Status."
David's breath hitched. In front of him, shimring like a mirage in the desert heat, a window materialized. It wasn't made of glass, but of swirling blue energy, its edges crackling with a faint electrical hum. Inside the window, lines of text scrolled, numbers blinked, and bars filled and depleted. It was the character nu – the holy grail of any gar, and David recognized it all too well.
"Hell yeah!" he yelped, a genuine grin splitting his face for the first ti since waking up in this bizarre situation.
This wasn't just so elaborate dream.
Na: David De Gror
Race: Human
class: Ascendant
Skills: Eternal Gluttoney, Celestial wheel
HP: 30/30
MP: 5/5
Stamina: 5/5
Strength: 2
Agility: 4
Intelligence: 10
charm: 70
He scanned the bars – health, mana, stamina. They were all worryingly low, reflecting David's frail physical condition. But there were other stats too – Strength, Agility, Intelligence. They were pathetically low, just as he'd expect from the notorious town drunk.
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