Chapter 1 

Argos blinked in disbelief as he stared at his most bloodthirsty warrior. The chief had seen many things in his long years as ruler of these tribes. He had witnessed the birth of a great Conqueror among monsterkind, a uniter who had succeeded in his quest, and had ascended to divinity. He had seen terrible wars -ones that made the current strife seem like friendly children’s play, witnessed honor and courage and cowardice many times over.

Yet he was flabbergasted by the audacity of a minotaur who wanted to retire.

“Leave?” He sputtered. Yes, Garek had failed to reach his prime, that much was true. The breakthrough into the level thirties constantly eluded him, and yes, he had fallen behind his peers in the eyes of the system, for which he was constantly tormented. But few held the minotaur’s sheer, almost divine bloodlust and thirst for combat.

He, Argos Stonegrinder, was for the first time in long memory at a loss for words. Not simply out of disbelief, but what did one say about a minotaur who no longer wished to fight? The very thought was anathema.

“Leave, then.” He rumbled. “Pack your things and be gone before the sun sets. Never show your face within these lands again, to spare us the shame of your existence.”

One of his own, turned coward, unable to taste the joy of bloodshed. Another soul lost on the long, treacherous journey to the one-hundreth level. The promise of ascension that came with touching the final level drew many. Most of whom perished in the attempt to reach it.

But to willfully turn and leave the sacred path behind? Dishonor and heresy. Men had been killed for suggesting less.

He refused to speak any more words, and simply stood in silence as the disgraced minotaur turned and walked away in his own shame.

 

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This week was proof that whatever god there is hates me. I wake up just as this guy’s spirit vacates the body from an overdose of pills that make this entire place fight-horny, find out I’m a furry, and immediately get told to go stop a monster raid.

Sure, good deal. At least I have a massive beefslab of muscle for a body, lots of experience, and according to the System, a fuckload of Skills.

Immediately got my ass beat because what the fuck is a muscle memory when I’m not human anymore?

No, seriously, trying to move feels like piloting a big furry mech suit. All stomp, no grace. Eyes out of alignment. Way too strong sense of smell.

I blame the eye thing for how thoroughly I got stomped into the ground by the way. The others rescued me, pulled me back to camp and tossed me into what I assumed was my tent to heal up.

I immediately went and quit.

Fighting monster raids non-stop all my life, competing with the entire world to reach the one-hundreth level. Endless war after endless war here on the frontier? Fuuuuckkkk. Thhaaaat.

Garek or whatever his name was, had done a lot of killing. Like, copious amounts of it. His tent was piled with weapons forged from monster remains. Sacks of coin littered the floor, jars of rage pills were messily stacked by the shelf-full. Everything about this person was devoted to bloodshed in an almost fanatical fervor.

And I wanted none of it.

He had very portable loot, several large sacks, and more muscles than brains.

I didn’t want to be an adventurer, a slayer, a dungeon explorer, a warlord or whatever the fuck big beefy had for career options. Instead, I was going to do what I had been decently good at; Farming.

Screw glory, I already had gold, and if capitalism had taught me anything, it’s that the value of owning land was priceless. Time to go be the bestest little farmhand nobody had ever seen.

A bag slung over my shoulder with every conceivable possession this brute had owned inside, I trudged out and awkwardly stumbled off. A big, clunky, furred mech suit indeed.

Someone waved and began to approach, and I just trudged along faster. They got the message, and within a few minutes, I had left the camp behind.

It took several hours of sifting through memories of gleeful violence and strangely ero visions of weapons. I would never recover those lost brain cells. But I did find some sort of useful information, at the cost of severe mental scarring.

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