In my room, where I am seconds away from victory, I laugh. There is no doubt about it, the pride of the Ramalet family. The result of over two hundred years of inbreeding and incest, at long last, will achieve their dream!

I nod my head as I contemplate just how great I am before I take a second to stroke my triangular chin.

Though it had taken a significant amount of time and countless corpses in the process, I have achieved my family's goal. To become a being beyond mere humans, elves or dwarves, I, Markus Ramalet, have succeeded! Well, nearly. The truth is, there is still a bit of time left.

With an impatient turn of my head, I glance towards the patterns of magic that exist on the ground. Though the circle and blood preparation are complete, it would take until midnight for the procedure to be possible. Because the spiritual power is most potent at that time, I must wait. As I stand in the blood-soaked contraption, I shiver. Even if it was not done yet, I could not help the feelings of delight.

To a dishonoured mage, there is no greater pleasure than to bring your family's status back to the forefront. That is the principle upon which mages operate, and I am no different. Even a country bumpkin mage, who specializes in summoning watermelons and cabbage, also wants to be stronger. To summon bigger and stronger watermelons or become a god beyond measure, the principle remains the same. The ultimate goal of any true mage is to become the strongest.

Let alone the cost.

It is a shame, unfortunately, that some see otherwise. Whether it be the government agents or so-called 'heretic hunters', many did not understand what must be done for the greater good. With a sigh, I look upon the clock with a great deal of impatience.

If I knew I had enough time, I would have gone and got a smoothie at the nearby store. But here I am. I was waiting with nothing to do and nothing to contemplate. Sure, I had won, but dammit, was it boring.

All tension that should have been there was non-existent. It was almost too easy, I suppose. For a mage of my calibre, there sure was a lack of, well... Enemies. Usually, there would have been at least several antagonists who would come to challenge you.

After all, the great Absinthe Sessogun had twenty different assassins sent after him, and so did Namre ó Murchadha, who had fifty, and Lerse, and Razadon... Now that I think about it, all these great mages had people sent after them.

The only ones who didn't were so barely significant. So weak that they were not deserving of notice. Indeed, that can not be the case. Is the Ramalet son no more worthy of their time than a misshapen carrot in the market?

I then laugh aloud and shake my head. What a preposterous idea. The idea that I am weak was simply incomprehensible.

No weak mage could prepare dozens of demons, monsters, traps and much more. So what could it be then? Even with that knowledge, it does not answer my question. Unable to understand, I look for a way to divert my unease.

A perfect opportunity arrives, and I hear the clock tick. One moment short of midnight, I gleefully cast my eyes to it.

Because there is a minute to the spell's activation, I position myself in the centre of my magic circle. My feet, which feel the spiritual power in the leylines below me, notify me it is time. The next moment, I channel the incantation to the spell.

My magical vessels, which have been dormant until now, flare to life. A serene sense of joy flows through my body. Though I am a master of magic, I cannot control the tears that fall from my eyes.

Finally, grandpa, grandma, great-grandma, I will achieve our dream.

"Selbide o leik, kele tzu rak the".

I can feel it. The mana within my body has begun to connect with the earth below me. All the energy, which once laid below the ground, now began to rise.

The next moment, I weep my final tear as a mere human. Though my parents and siblings have long abandoned the true dream of our family, I have not. Even if it means getting disowned and being called an 'animal-loving twat', it is a necessary sacrifice. A flash of light envelops my vision. But though I cannot see, I know what I have become. When the light is no longer radiant, my eyes shift to the body I now possess.

Two shorthands and a great pair of feet give me far more buoyancy than humans would, my body instinctively registers what it has become. Though many may call it some outback creature, or an animal that belongs to the zoo, I know that I am now the ultimate lifeform.

Even if the size is no larger than a human, I feel the power surge through my body. In my muscular tail, my short long pointed ears and clawed hands, I understand it is flesh capable of great destruction. My body jumps with unbridled joy as I bounce forwards.

With a wall in front of me, I feel the need to test my new power. As I mutter a spell under my breath, I feel my mana surge through my legs. With a kick, I shatter the concrete wall as quickly as I would wood. A hole, wider than even my body, shows its cracks.

That was when I knew that I had won.

"I HAVE BECOME A GOD!"

I, Markus Ramalet, shout these words with complete confidence.

"Is that so?"

My throat becomes as dry as the desert as I turn around.

I now understand that the source of the noise comes from a woman behind me. A pale, blue-haired woman, she wears a suit and tie and holds a camera in her hands. Though I know her name and job, I still do not comprehend how she has broken through my defences without leaving so much as a trace.

Perhaps because she is kind, or perhaps because she feels pity, she chooses to answer.

"There is a sewer below your lair."

It cannot be. The system, which was enough to repel the strongest of enemies, did not do anything. The woman, who chose the vilest path possible, instead went through the poop and rat-infested underground. Though the very idea of it disgusts me, I am almost impressed by her efficiency. No normal mage would go through that path, and so, as a fellow outcast, I sympathize with her cause.

"Hahaha." I then laugh. It doesn't matter. Though I feel pity, it is not enough for me to stop myself.

If she has broken through my defence, all I need to do is kill her myself. I give her one final look before I cast my spell.

"Might of the large foot!"

There is little doubt that she will expect what is to come. Because of my new beautiful form, I can bypass the extensive preparation and resource customarily required. With over 1,000 pounds of force in my leg, I attack.

The battle should be over in an instant. The spell which requires all the mana left in my body is used.

Even the wind and air, which paves to my kick, submit to my will. Faster than the eye can see, space compresses before my power. My tired breath leaves my throat. Though my kick lands, I feel the obstacle before me, stay put. There is no pushback, no shatter of bone, and no sound.

Though I know my vision is true, I cannot believe what is before me. The woman who remains blocks my kick as easily as she would a pillow.

I, who cannot help but speak, utter with a dry throat. "Fuck."