I Own EVERY Class in This World: Life Set to HELL Mode!

[Teleporting all participants, congratulations on your victory!]

[Winners: Sora, Lilith, Chosen and... Follower.]

Stark's eyes widened as he saw that.

The brilliant light of teleportation enveloped Stark, Sora and Lilith, transporting them from the battleground to the bustling capital of Fellarburg.

The moment Stark appeared, the square erupted with gasps, shouts, and frantic whispers.

"HOLY SHIT!"

"That's them?! Chosen?!"

"WHAT?!"

Cameras flashed in quick succession, capturing the trio as they stood amidst the chaos.

Stark stood unmoving, his gaze locked onto the ground.

His usually sharp eyes were wide and unfocused, his pupils trembling with the weight of the name he had seen on the panel.

Follower.

How had he survived? Stark clenched his fists, his thoughts spiraling into a chaotic whirlpool.

Was it another trick?

That aura of his… it felt familiar. Could it be?

A horrifying possibility gripped his mind: Godless Demon.

Stark's expression darkened, his crimson aura beginning to flare around him, flickering like a warning beacon.

"Let's go," Sora said softly, tugging at Stark's arm.

She clearly disliked the attention, her discomfort not visible though, "We should head home, Stark."

Lilith, standing beside them, sighed heavily. "Can I come with you two? I don't live in this country, and I don't exactly have anywhere to go."

"Fine, but don't be an annoyance!"

Despite their conversation, Stark didn't answer.

He didn't move. His aura continued to intensify.

Instead, through all the noises and flashes of the camera, he looked up, his face completely covered by his crimson aura, intimidating everyone who was watching.

"What the…"

"Chosen being… chosen, huh?" one onlooker muttered nervously.

The Darkness Appears

Just as the teleportation light dissipated entirely, the uneasy murmurs turned into shouts of confusion.

"Wait a minute… what is that?!"

"W-Why is he alive?"

"THE FUCK!"

Stark's gaze followed the direction of their shouts.

His aura flared as his eyes landed on the figure emerging from the light, and there, he saw him... no... IT.

Follower.

But this wasn't the human he had fought in the trial.

The figure standing before them was transformed, his form twisted and unrecognizable, he looked exactly like the dark entity that was protecting him in the trial.

His entire body was shrouded in an undulating darkness, the edges of his form rippling like smoke.

Towering horns spiraled upward from his head, and his glowing red eyes pierced through the gloom like beacons of malevolence.

"Lord Godless has given me a chance," Follower whispered, his voice distorted and reverberating unnaturally.

He dropped to one knee, as though bowing to an unseen master, charging up energy at the same time, "I shall take it."

Before him, a crimson panel hovered in the air, its sinister commands etched in glowing letters:

[Kill them all.]

[I do not care about Chosen anymore; he will mean nothing upon my descent.]

[Just kill the maximum amount of classifiers possible. Avoid any and all danger. Do not engage directly in a fight.]

[The human race will disappear, birthing a new, superior one.]

Follower rose to his feet, the panel vanishing. "Yes, Lord Godless," he said, his dark aura crackling to life.

Stark's instincts screamed at him, his vision flooding with dozens of warning panels:

[Warning! Warning! Warning!]

[Avoid!]

"...!"

Without hesitation, Stark summoned his Asura's Arms, the crimson limbs materializing in a blaze of energy.

He lunged toward Sora and Lilith, scooping them into his arms before leaping into the air. Continue your saga on empire

The instant he left the ground, Follower's energy reached its peak.

After activating [Godless Demon Transformation], he had finally done everything Godless wanted him to do, now all that was left was chaos.

"DARKNESS BLAST!"

The shockwave tore through the square like a hurricane of destruction.

Black energy, sharp as a legendary blade, radiated outward in every direction.

Hundreds of classifiers and spectators caught in the blast had no time to react.

Their bodies were shredded, reduced to lifeless husks as the wave cut through flesh, stone, and steel alike.

Buildings crumbled, their foundations obliterated by the sheer force of the attack.

The once-proud square was reduced to a smoldering ruin in a single instant.

Stark landed atop a shattered wall, holding the two girls tightly.

He gritted his teeth as he surveyed the devastation. Hundreds dead. All because of Follower.

Follower stood in the epicenter of the destruction, his twisted form glowing with an unholy light.

He turned to Stark, a grin stretching across his shadowy face.

"Chosen, do you not realize?" Follower's voice echoed mockingly. "You can't even hope to hurt me now. My transformation is complete."

Stark released Sora and Lilith gently, his crimson aura flaring with unrestrained fury.

"Run," he ordered, his voice cold and unwavering. "I'll deal with him."

"But—" Sora stammered, her voice trembling.

"I SAID GO!" Stark bellowed, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You'll die if you stay here!"

"Oh?" Follower tilted his head, his grin widening. "Do you truly believe I'll waste my time on you, Chosen?"

Follower's red eyes flickered, recalling the command from Godless's panel: Do not engage directly.

With a burst of speed, Follower leaped onto the roof of a nearby building, summoning a Darkness Blade into his hand.

His aura crackled with destructive energy as he scanned the city below.

"Goodbye, Chosen," he sneered, his voice filled with disdain.

Then, with a laugh that echoed like a death knell, he dashed forward, slicing through anything in his path.

Stark's eyes narrowed as he watched Follower rampage across the city.

Fires erupted in his wake, and screams filled the air as civilians and classifiers alike fell victim to his blade.

The Godless Demon's influence had spilled into the real world.

This wasn't just a personal vmatter anymore—it was the beginning of something far worse.

Stark clenched his fists, his Asura's Arms blazing brighter. He couldn't let this continue.

This ends here.

He leaped from the wall, his crimson energy propelling him toward Follower.

The air around him crackled with power as he prepared to unleash everything he had.

"You think you can run from me?" Stark roared, his voice cutting through the chaos as he reached Follower, faster than the transformed human.

Follower turned, his red eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Oh, I'm not running," he replied, his tone dripping with mockery. "I'm simply following orders. But if you're so eager to die, Chosen…"

The darkness around Follower surged, his blade growing larger and more menacing.

"…I'll be happy to oblige."

The capital, now a battlefield, trembled as the two forces prepared to collide.

The clash between Stark and Follower would determine the fate of more than just this city—it would mark the first battle in the war against the Godless Demon's descent.

And Stark, the Chosen One, wasn't about to lose.