Scarlet Saga: From Gamer to Godslayer

The city burned around him. Rian Kurota’s hands were red to the wrist, not with paint or rust, but with blood. The last thing he remembered of Earth was the chaos of the underground arena: a hush-hush combat tournament where “retired” soldiers, mercenaries, and gamers tested themselves in deadly matches. He had been the champion — blade, bow, staff, dagger, he’d mastered them all. In that concrete pit he had cut down a dozen assassins in less than a minute. But the tournament was a front. The sponsors had summoned something from another plane — a demon, real and hungry. The thing burst into the arena, slashing competitors and spectators alike. Rian fought until the stands were slick with gore, but in the end the demon tore through his chest. He collapsed, coughing blood, a thousand system notifications from his hacked-together training app flickering in his dying vision. If only this was a real game, he thought, I’d hit respawn. Then a voice spoke from the darkness above him. > “You have pleased me, mortal. You fought like a god even before you knew one. Your skills, your will, your blood — all amuse me. In my world the balance falters. Become my piece. Be born again as my weapon.” The voice belonged to the Forgotten God — an exiled deity who had been watching Earth’s blood sports for decades. Rian felt invisible chains hook into his soul and pull. His last sight of the arena was the demon impaled on his dagger even as he died. > [Soul Transfer Initiated] [Unique Class ‘Bloodbound Arsenal’ granted] He screamed — not from pain, but from the rush of power — and then there was nothing. --- He awoke to the smell of iron again. But this time, his lungs were small. His hands were tiny. He was an infant swaddled in rough linen, lying in a blood-streaked hut while monsters howled outside. His “parents” — a warrior couple of the frontier — were fighting for their lives as the village burned. Another demon tore through the doorway. His mother threw herself over the cradle. His father swung an axe. They both died buying him a few heartbeats. Their blood splashed across the baby’s face. And something inside the newborn stirred. > [Skill Activated: Blood Memory] [Retaining Combat Mastery from Previous Life… Complete] The infant’s eyes glowed molten gold. He couldn’t yet speak, but his mind was that of a twenty-five-year-old elite fighter. Tiny fingers clenched the air, and a spectral dagger materialised above the cradle. It darted outward like a snake, slicing the demon’s throat. The creature fell, gargling its own black ichor. The hut became a slaughterhouse. Each time a demon approached, an invisible blade cut it down. The newborn’s wails mixed with gurgles of dying monsters until the village fell silent. --- Years passed like pages turning. With each year his “stats” exploded. By ten he could conjure bows of pure shadow and staff-blades of light. By fifteen he was training alone in the crimson canyons, carving sigils into rock with weapons that only existed in his hands. By eighteen he had cleared his first dungeon single-handedly. He was a living legend whispered about by guild recruiters but still officially “unknown.” And now, at twenty, he stood once more in a field of corpses, the smell of iron heavy in the air — déjà vu of his first death. This time he wasn’t a dying champion; he was the predator. A massive demon general roared across the battlefield. Rian summoned a dagger into one hand, a sword into the other. He grinned. “Round two.” He lunged, blades singing, blood spraying. Above him the sky cracked, and far beyond it he felt the Forgotten God watching, waiting for his champion to grow strong enough to slay even the gods themselves. Rian wiped demon blood from his hands and flicked it onto the dirt. The battlefield behind him looked like an oil painting done entirely in red and black. Notifications blinked in front of his eyes: > [Level 45 Achieved] [Skill Upgrade: Blood Reaver → Blood Reaver II] [New Skill Unlocked: Weapon Echo] He dismissed them with a thought. “Good grind,” he muttered. “But if I keep soloing everything, I’ll never unlock the higher-tier raids.” A wind full of the smell of roasted meat and ale blew over him. Down in the valley below, lights glowed — a town. Above its gate hung an iron emblem of crossed fangs. The Guild Hall of Ironfang, one of the oldest adventurer guilds on the western continent. Rian descended the hill, sheathing his weapons back into nothingness. As soon as he stepped through the town gate, a familiar chime rang in his head: > [Main Quest Updated: Join a Guild] Inside the hall, adventurers shouted over mugs of beer. Swordfighters arm-wrestled. Mages in pointed hats argued over spell formulas. A huge notice board bristled with quests — bounties, escort missions, dungeon runs. Rian strode up to the counter. The receptionist, a petite elf with emerald hair and round glasses, blinked at his blood-stained cloak. “Uh… can I help you, sir?” “I’d like to register,” he said. “Rank doesn’t matter. I just need access to quests.” She slid a crystal orb across the desk. “Place your hand here to reveal your class.” He hesitated. His Unique Class wasn’t exactly subtle. But then again, hiding it wouldn’t help; sooner or later he’d be fighting in public. He put his palm on the orb. It flashed scarlet. Letters swirled inside: > NAME: Rian Kurota CLASS: Bloodbound Arsenal (Unique) LEVEL: 45 SKILLS: [Redacted – High Tier] The receptionist’s eyes widened. Around the hall, conversations stopped. Someone whispered, “Unique class…” Another muttered, “No one’s seen that in a hundred years…” A burly knight at a nearby table snorted. “Bloodbound, huh? Sounds like an edgy kid’s build.” He stood, towering over Rian. “Why don’t you prove it in the pit? Winner takes loser’s quest tokens.” The hall erupted in cheers. The PVP Pit — a sand-floored arena at the center of the guild hall — was where disputes and bets were settled. Rian rolled his shoulders. “Sure. Need to stretch anyway.” They entered the pit. A magical barrier flared, sealing them in. The knight drew a massive greatsword. “I’ll make this quick.” Rian summoned a dagger into one hand, a bow of black light into the other. “Please do.” The gong rang. The knight charged. Rian flicked his dagger; it split into a dozen spectral blades that circled him like sharks. The knight’s sword swung down — and hit nothing. Rian had already shifted behind him, firing three arrows point-blank into his back. Blood sprayed across the barrier. Gasps from the audience. The knight roared, swinging blindly. Rian caught the blade on a conjured spear, twisted, and with his free hand pressed a palm to the knight’s armor. > [Skill Activated: Blood Reaver II] Scarlet chains erupted from the ground, draining the knight’s HP and freezing him in place. Rian raised an eyebrow. “Should I stop now?” The knight collapsed. The barrier flickered off. Silence — then thunderous applause. Coins changed hands. The receptionist looked faint. “Congratulations, Mr. Kurota… you’re now registered as an A-Rank adventurer.” From the second floor balcony, the silver-haired mage from the battlefield — the one who had helped him with the demon horde — watched with narrowed eyes. When Rian looked up, she quickly turned away, cheeks pink. He smirked. Guess fate’s queuing up my party members. The system chimed again: > [Side Quest Unlocked: Form a Party] Rian grinned, stretching his arms. “Guild joined. PVP won. Next step… raid a god.”