He sighed deeply and dragged his hand down to his face, resting it over his eyes. "Here we go again."

He forced himself to sit back up on the floor, fingers closing around the hilt of the sword as he got up.

His body complained, asked for rest. His mind cursed Michael constantly, cursed the system, and also cursed himself.

But his eyes? They were steady, and a look of hunger was inside of them.

His body complained, asked for rest. His mind cursed Michael constantly, cursed the system, and also cursed himself.

But his eyes? They were steady, and a look of hunger was inside of them.

As soon as the final strike landed, Silas's sword slipped from his fingers, and it hit the ground with a low, dim thud

His legs then buckled up he dropped backward onto the bed like a corpse falling into its grave.

He lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, chest rising up and then falling rhythmically, trying to get his breath steady.

Lips parted as he dragged his breath after breath into burning lungs. Arms were trembling as the whole body was filled with sweat.

A drip of sweat rolled down his temple, fell into his right eye. His eye twitched as he continued staring at the blank ceiling.

Every muscle in his body trembled violently; they screamed as they asked for mercy. His wrists felt like someone had driven nails straight into the bone. Pulse was beating violently.

Just when he thought that he could finally rest now—

[DING!]

A bright blue window of the System appeared in front of his eyes. Glowing bright with the blue light, which made Silas's hope about resting fade away.

[Assignment Complete.]

[Next Lesson Available.]

Silas then snorted weakly, relaxing his body, resting his head on the pillow. "Hah…. I'm still alive, that definitely counts as a win."

His voice was thin. Barely a whisper which only he could hear.

He lifted one of his arms in the air slowly—it felt like lifting a mountain.

"System, did any of my stats increase because of that gruesome hell which I survived? Or was that for nothing?"

[Host, the teachings are from a god. Of course, your stats increased.]

A new system window appeared out of thin air.

[Strength: B-]

[Agility: B-]

[Endurance: C+]

Silas blinked a few times. "What the actual fuck!?" Silas's voice came out loud, feeling of slight disbelief was buried inside his tone.

"I'm already at the level of a B-Rank awakened?"

[Yes, Host. You finally did.]

Silas let out a small, exhausted smirk. Not pride — just the smile of a man whose body is dying while his soul is doing a victory dance.

He didn't even remember when he closed his eyes, slowly, the sleep caught up to him.

Morning came in the blink of an eye.

The morning came soon, rays of the sun were coming inside the room from the tall window, making golden stripes on the ground, and dust particles were getting visible as the rays struck them.

Silas woke up to the sunlight, which was stabbing his face like it had a grudge with him.

His entire body felt stiff and half-frozen, like someone had put him into the freezer and shut the door for the whole night.

A small groan escaped through his lips, rubbing at his eyes with his right hand's fingers.

[DING!]

A new notification from the system hovered in the air. Silas looked at it with his half-opened eyes.

[New Quest:

[Host must go to the Awakened Center and get his rank upgraded.]

Silas frowned. "Upgraded? Yeah, that makes sense," Silas stretched his fingers. "I can't do higher level dungeons if I don't level up to a high rank."

He pushed his body up, stretched—he tried to stretch.

[DING!]

[DING!]

Another panel of the system appeared.

[Host, your teacher has contacted you.]

"My teacher? Who the fu—"

The screen in front of him started to flicker.

And from the other end, Archangel Michael appeared. He sat in the same peaceful scenery from before, a beautiful garden, golden sun, white trees, birds that perched calmly around him like he was the star of some holy documentary.

Michael's blue eyes were sharp, they were locked onto Silas. His voice came softly. "So," he said slowly. "I see that you have completed yesterday's assignment, which I gave you."

Silas straightened his back automatically, like a kid who's caught faking his homework, and a drop of sweat rolled down his cheek. He still felt nervous while being in the presence of Archangel Michael.

Silas let out a small sigh. Voice came. "Y-Yes, sir."

Michael rested his hand on the stone table. "That's good. Then today's assignment will be more realistic." A small smile curled up on Michael's face.

Silas immediately didn't like that word, a new window of the system appeared in front of his eyes.

[Assignment – Archangel Michael]

• [100 km running]

• [1000 push-ups]

• [1000 sit-ups]

• [1000 sword strikes]

• [1000 sword swings]

• [1000 sword slashes]

• [1000 sword thrusts]

Silas's body froze. His jaw dropped automatically, his eyes were locked onto the screen, fingers trembled slightly.

His voice came out slow, tone was filled with the feeling of shock. "What the… hell!"

Michael just gave a small nod in agreement that the assignment is real, not a delusion. "Enjoy, Silas."

The system panel, which was reflecting the image of Michael, disappeared into thin air.

Silas then took his palm, placed it next to his face. A small sigh escaped his mouth as if he was trying to calm his trembling body down. "Let's go and do that rank thing first before I start crying."

He grabbed his jacket, brushed his messy hair back, and walked towards the wardrobe, grabbed his worn-out coat, put it up and made his way towards his apartment's door.

Outside, the city was already buzzing like usual—the honking of the cars, hundreds rushing around with their equipment, vendors yelling at the top of their lungs to sell their products—mana potions were getting sold out like candies.

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