The seemingly familiar, yet alien sound of night resonated around Mors as his heavy footsteps lead him deeper into the woods, away from the huntsmen. It wasn’t long before the small amount of light from the camp’s fire was completely lost as the trees enveloped him, leaving Mors in complete darkness due to the thick canopy and dark clouds that were blowing in from the east, blocking most of the light from the two moons.

Not really paying attention to where he was going, Mors was deep in thought as he continued onwards. With each step he took, Mors felt like he was regaining some strength, his muscles stretching and repairing as his blood pumped through his body. Little did he know, or anyone else for that matter, that because of Mors' outstanding heritage and soul, his body had almost unique regenerative properties, and in this mana rich environment, was recovering at a remarkable rate. In fact, the only creatures who naturally boasted a better healing ability were vampires and dragons, and that occurred only in the right conditions.

This was the first moment that Mors had got any time to himself, in this lifetime at least, and as he thought about what had happened since his arrival in Acoria, the more questions he had. The memories of Verz had helped out to a large extent, showing him snippets of information about this world but other than that, and the few short memories of the airport, he knew nothing. Well, that wasn't exactly right, he had a lot of knowledge about things he shouldn’t know anything about, but it was always out of context and thus, extremely confusing for the young demon.

None of that knowledge was presently helpful to him in the slightest. What Mors felt he really needed was power. The power to take control of his life and exact his revenge on those who had caused him so much pain and misery by initiating the events that led to his daughter's soul being destroyed.

“I’m weak,” spat Mors in disgust. The rage initially aimed at those who committed the summoning suddenly turned inwards as self-loathing hammered his mind. He might have been able to kill some of the Sun Clan’s minions when he was born, but as the God of Death pointed out, that was due to external influences and were basically unrepeatable.

Verz’s memories had shown him what the true definition of strength was. Verz was considered one of the elite, but even she did not have a fraction of the strength of some of the true powerhouses lurking in this world. This made Mors feel incredibly stupid and arrogant having had openly declared, in front of god and mortal alike, that he would destroy the Sun Clan and all those who stood with them.

“How could I have been so full of myself when I don't even know what I am,” muttered Mors as he kicked a log into the distance, barely feeling the impact on his bare feet.

Mors remembered something else from one of Verz’s memories, the ranking system that this world was built on.

In Acoria, a person’s worth was often intrinsically linked to their strength, which was incredibly difficult to gauge due to the wide variety of species, variants and the presence of magic. To make things easier, a ranking system had been introduced using a particular type of crystal that measured every attribute of a person's being, revealing an average result that could be grouped. This was later combined with the status stone, another invention that enabled one to see their skills and abilities as well as other miscellaneous bits of information.

The highest level of this system was divided into realms, with the first level of the next realm being roughly four times the value of the highest previous one. Within each of these realms, there were collections of ranks, each holding a unique title, which in turn were divided up into collections called stars. Each rank held five stars. The stars descended in rank, with the fifth star being the weakest and the first, the pinnacle of that collection and the bottleneck for those wanting to progress.

The realms were commonly referred to as Copper, Bronze, Silver, Gold and Diamond.

The copper realm was the lowest of the realms but also was the fastest to progress through. The majority of non-combatants remained in this realm throughout their lives. Those with Jobs like blacksmith and carpenter were often at the Squire rank whereas town guards or militia were around the Armiger level. Those who wanted to become soldiers or adventurers aimed to reach the Knight rank.

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When someone reached the pinnacle of the Knight rank, also known as a pinnacle copper or a one-star knight, they were often headhunted by the various organisations looking for talent, including the huntsmen, although the huntsmen were extremely selective in their backgrounds and rejected huge numbers of potential applicants

The second Realm, Bronze, was considered the starting point for all those setting out to acquire strength and power.

Although this was considered the starting block, this realm contained over 80% of the world's strongest residents, which would have stunned those who existed before the great cataclysm significantly. Back then, even their newly born offspring could attain this rank in a few years.

As one of the world's elite fighting forces, the huntsmen's troops were situated at the top of this realm, with Verz being the strongest, at the level of a one-star Marchioness. Although the Sun Clan had more members, they were considerably weaker, hovering around the Baron/Viscount level, and so had to rely on more indirect means when the two sides clashed.

It was considered exceedingly rare for one to reach the silver realm, and in acknowledgement of this achievement, as well as to warn anyone within earshot not to do anything foolish, anyone who entered this realm or above, would be addressed by their rank and not their name.

For one to reach the gold realm was almost unheard of in recent history, and was heavily polluted by the feudal systems that many of the countries had adopted to try and vaguely link their monarchy with these almost mythical existences.

There were around fifty known beings who had reached the silver rank in the last two hundred years, with only twenty of them making it to the gold realm, showing just how hard it was to attain.

The last realm was reserved for those on the boundary of becoming gods. Beings whose very presence could change the world, both its direction and its literal shape. It was widely accepted that it was impossible to get to this realm and that only those with the pure bloodlines of old, that had been diluted millennia ago, had even the slimmest of chances.

Mors let out a sigh as he stepped over a fallen tree. This world is sure complicated.