Before you believe anything else, firstly, Percy's fate was not his fault.
His naive excitement was not to blame, not even his childish desire to be the hero and save the world, nor his blind trust of people in a foreign world.
What else would one expect from a nineteen-year-old after transmigrating into a fantasy game world?
Presented with a similar scenario, many of us will fall into the trap of the same compulsions.
After all, who would ever suspect that the very people who summoned you to become their Hero, would betray and kill you right after you defeat their dreaded villain?
Percy never suspected. He never had reason to.
All the manhwas he read, and the animes he binge-watched, sold him the story of heroism. The story of an aimless young man like him, worthless in his world, but worth a million in another.
In that other world, he was revered, praised, and bestowed with powerful abilities to perform a single task:
Defeat the Demon Lord.
Evernia, the world Percy had transmigrated into, wasn't any different.
It was unique in its principles and setting, but the plot was still very much the same.
Evernia was built like a game (an ARPG to be specific). Everyone was ranked in levels, those who awakened had the specific task of clearing Gate Worlds (themed dungeons that spawned in random provinces) as a way to level up and master the Skills and abilities of their Class.
Percy was one of these people. An Awakener.
However, he wasn't just any Awakener, he was the Awakener who would lead other Awakeners in slaying the Demon Lord across the Ocean of Late on Akuma Island.
He was the chosen outworlder, fated to surpass the level cap of power and evolve his Class—an unattainable feat for the normal Awakener.
Percy had awakened the Swordsman Class.
It had appeared unimpressive at first. A Class with a Special-Ranked Talent did not seem fitting for the Hero of Evernia. Not in a world where Mages, Knights and Beast Tamers existed.
But once he wielded the Kingdom Sword, a Mythic-Grade Weapon blessed by the gods themselves, his power quadrupled. His Class evolved from Swordsman to Sword Saint, and from then, no one could rival him.
Not even the Demon Lord.
With his party—handpicked champions of the Human, Elf, and Dwarf kingdoms—he shattered every Gate World he came across, leveling beyond the limit of 150. And then, crossed the seas, stormed Akuma Island, and slayed the Demon Lord.
It was a dream.
For Percy. At least.
Many of us, many of you, would never live out our fantasies. But Percy did.
He became the summoned Hero of a fantasy world, and he did not have to wait for a lazy author to return after the one thousandth hiatus so he could finish the story.
He had completed it himself. He had killed the Demon Lord.
Life was as wonderful as it could be. Nothing could go wrong.
…
Everything went wrong. Because, well, Percy was dead.
Very dead, in fact. A Silverlance Sword was stabbed right through his heart.
Just before he died, and now in death, Percy had realized something:
Fantasy worlds were not much different from the real world he'd left behind.
Betrayal was always.
Eternal.
Multiversal.
The nobles of Evernia hadn't cared that he had saved their world. All they saw was an outworlder who had stolen the people's love. A foreigner who shone brighter than their kings.
At least that was what Aethelstan told him before he sunk his Mythic-Grade sword into his chest.
"You really didn't think the kings would let you live, did you? The people already love you, we can't let them believe that you saved them. You must die, Percy."
So he died.
Of course it wasn't a simple death. Not for Prince Aethelstan and the rest of the party.
Percy fought fiercely.
But escape was futile.
He might have stood against one Lvl. 150 Mage. Even three. But not seven of the most powerful young Awakeners in the entire realm, coordinated and aiming for his life.
Even the Kingdom Blade couldn't cleave treachery.
At least he had taken two of them with him. Bromm, a talkative Barbarian who was larger than humans yet supposed to be a dwarf, and Liraeth, an Elemental Mage with a sharp tongue.
Hopefully, they would share a place in hell together.
Although, wherever this void-like place was, it didn't seem at all like hell.
What did hell seem like?
Percy wasn't sure. But this feeling of nothingness, like he was the entire galaxy and yet nothing at all. It couldn't be hell, could it?
Maybe it was the rage burning inside him. The anger, the sting of the betrayal, and the realization of how blind he had been.
No. That was a different feeling.
That feeling, he could describe. This one he had no words for except for the earlier 'nothing.'
As it persevered, he realized the feeling felt familiar.
It had happened to him during his transmigration. It was a feeling of being inside his own soul, and his soul was a void of air.
He had become that void of air, and was traveling through time and space.
Again.
Percy panicked. Was he returning to his old world? To his creaky hostel bed and noisy roommates? Somehow, dying seemed like a better option.
The sensation stopped.
Percy feared, if he opened his eyes, he would see the peeled-off paint of his hostel ceiling. But he noticed the silence. His hostel was anything but silent.
With some certainty, he opened his eyes.
Before him was a golden translucent screen, the same one he was accustomed to. His Swordsman Status Screen.
It appeared to him like normal, as if he hadn't even died, with a notification:
⸢You have been rewarded a Transcendent Relic by a god⸥
Percy stared at the notification. His expression was nothing as he was only thin air, but his mind was a scramble of confused thoughts.
Transcendent? He had never heard of that rank before.
Relics were ranked the same as other types of loot: Common, Rare, Special, Legendary and Mythic. To think there was another rank above Mythic… he'd never even considered.
And why would a god reward him with a relic? Wasn't it already too late? He was dead.
⸢Relic: Returner's Hourglass⸥
⸢Description: For those who would defy the mercy of endings⸥
Relics were never straightforward with their descriptions.
Percy had always hated that, but with his knowledge of light novels and manhwas, it was impossible for him not to have an idea of what this Relic could do.
⸢Use Relic? Yes/No⸥
With a skeptical heart still heavy with hope, he chose ⸢Yes⸥.
The sensation came again.
Percy was like air, moving through tunnels of magic and time. When it stopped once more, he was met with another question.
⸢Do you wish to rebuild character appearance? Yes/No⸥
Percy thought about that question.
When he had first transmigrated into this world, he had created his character appearance. This meant the Relic had worked.
He had actually regressed.
Despite the numerous thoughts that traveled through his mind, he managed to focus on one. His old appearance.
Percy had given himself silver hair, bright eyes, and a smile that people adored.
He didn't feel anything like that person again.
With that in mind, he created his character.
The status screen reminded him appearance was final. Physique and upkeep were up to him to maintain; he couldn't edit more muscles into himself later.
Percy didn't think muscles mattered in a world like this.
When he was done, another screen appeared.
⸢Character has been finalized⸥
⸢Welcome back to Evernia⸥.
Suddenly, the darkness around him began to crack, light spilling through. Then it shattered like black glass, and he felt himself falling.
It was like the dream, except he couldn't jolt himself awake, and could only pray that the Returner's Hourglass knew what it was doing.
The falling stopped.
He could feel.
He felt carpet, on his fingers and beneath the sole of his boots.
A thunderous sound filled his ears. He could hear too.
It was like a spell detonating in an echoing hall.
He recognized the sound. It was the first one he heard when he transmigrated into Evernia for the very first time.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the courtroom of the Human Kingdom, Valoris. It was cathartic to see it again. His eyes moved to the robed diviners, and the guards clutching spears.
He wondered if they were troubled by his lack of shock.
"The Summoning Ritual was successful, King Alfred!" a diviner declared. "The Hero is here!"
Percy rose to his feet, the long dark hair he had chosen spilling down his broad shoulders.
King Alfred leaned forward from his throne, clad in gold and crimson, a tall crown on his yellow head. "You are welcome to our world, Evernia, dear Hero! Do you mind introducing yourself to us?"
All eyes turned to him.
Percy's expression was guarded as he pondered on a response.
He couldn't give them the name Percy. It was a sweet boy's name. A familiar name for a fool worthy of being betrayed.
He opted for the full name instead.
He told them his name was Percival.