Ilen’s Curse: Cursed with resetting the timeline to roughly a day before, after dying, with only hazy memories of what happened. Essentially a save and load function. The constant search for his causes of death leads him to die several times in various reset timelines until he has known enough to avoid his untimely demise. Only Ilen has a rough knowledge of the timelines he has gone through. No one else knows about this curse and it can only be seen as an impossibly concise understanding of his opponent’s methods and strategy.

Sea of Emotions: The ability to read the emotion of anyone based on their body language, expression and voice. Lack of any of the three impedes this reading.

Spiritual Energy: Any point on a surface he or his sword touches may be infused with energy that can then be fired at a target in a pale translucent bolt. It is slow enough that it can be seen and avoided, given enough distance close to ten metres or more and extremely good reflexes. Zhelan must keep his attention on every planted shot unless he has already set them on a timer, up to five at maximum before he breaks concentration. Firing from his fingers or sword is rare but possible as well. Impacts are equivalent to a small hammer spread across a large area, enough to bruise many places and to stagger armoured individuals but little more.

Close Quarters Combat: He performs exceptionally well in close combat with or without his sword, following an unnamed style that focuses on protecting oneself with as little effort as possible whilst wearing or disabling the opponent. Many attacks from the sword involve quick movements in the wrist rather than large sweeping strikes.

Battle Continuation: He can intentionally numb pain and continue to fight well beyond the abilities of a normal person’s mental strength, limited only by his own physical state. The situation that requires him to fight beyond human limits can only be a battle he must win on threat of death or worse.

Cleansing Sword: A cleansing sword, jian, to be precise, that existed many centuries ago under the care of Zhelan’s predecessors. It is used in many rituals before, and whilst it is as malleable as common steel, it is near unbreakable in combat and possesses an everlasting edge.

Even though he technically can’t be killed, he obviously cannot predict what does not lead to his death. Much of his advantage comes from knowledge, and without preparation he is inferior to most others in combat capability.

He relies heavily on close combat, and his projectiles are unable to deal lasting damage. Keeping distance limits his options many times fold.

Spiritual energy requires him to concentrate and maintain every shot he has planted, and any disturbance such as a flash bang, severe injury, or simply pressuring him in battle can force him to limit or drop his shots completely.

Mid twenties with black dishevelled hair reaching down his neck. His features are typically eastern but with no close resemblance to any ethnicity, flat with a thin nose. His build is lean but with firm muscles, and is slightly taller than the average asian male.

Dull and emotionless, aimed at depriving Ilen of any pleasure. He often speaks and acts neutrally, based on who he is dealing with and what brings the best conclusion. He gives those he meets a fair chance, judges them by what they do and acts upon such judgements free of emotional bias. This also implies his ruthlessness, and he can do anything, especially emotional manipulation, to attain a beneficial conclusion. This should be differentiated from a cold and calculating or robotic attitude as he does care for morality and generally acts in a way many would consider ‘good’. Due to his lack of emotion, his jokes on occasion come off as extremely dry.

Zhelan was a defiant teenager in an obscure village tasked with the duty of suppressing a devil/demon that had been killed a few centuries before, and only resurfaced recently. Ilen, that same demon, would tempt Zhelan from within her prison, and her temporary release resulted in a mass execution of her captors, with the curse of continuity unleashed upon Zhelan in order to break his mind through constant death so he may serve as her ‘cute toy’. Her attempt to torture the head priest, Zhelan’s father, in front of his son was however met with backlash as the priest mustered enough strength to seal her a second time. In his dying breath the head priest made his son abandon all thoughts of revenge, for killing Ilen would only spurn her next reincarnation where there would be none left to stop her, and instead to spend his life to convince Ilen to abandon her ways. After his father’s death, Zhelan killed off his emotions and forced Ilen to join him on a journey across the world in hopes that the sights may change her mind. Due to the seal being incomplete, Zhelan has to fuel the seal with souls, hunting down people whose lives would not be missed. Ilen voluntarily accepts these souls as they would be otherwise be forced upon her, but is largely unaware as to the reason behind their journey. But one of Zhelan’s targets prove to be different and that caught the attention of the system, throwing him into a nest of fighters who constantly seek for his life.

An incredibly strong demon who feeds on the negativity of humans, taking the form of a twelve year old child due to her lack of powers. She sports long, fluffy cream coloured hair with black ribbons tied to both sides, generally preferring casual wear in dark hues. Her actions and demeanor are a disconcerting mix of an innocent child and a twisted, sadistic personality that enjoys negativity. She is largely unconcerned about morals and ethics, but is also surprisingly practical, preferring whatever that is the least hassle and feeds her vices well enough. Currently due to the seal she can muster the strength of three grown men, but lack of experience keeps her from fighting in any capacity. Whilst she is hard to kill due to extreme regenerative capabilities and far stronger flesh, it is still possible. She can remove a human's soul to fuel the seal upon her, but her target must be subdued.

“Arise, good keeper. The day has long begun without you.”

His eyelids fluttered open, and before him he saw the lightly smiling face of a child, her cream coloured hair swaying gently across her forehead. Scarce few would think much of her, but the pointed ears that poke from underneath her hair, and an unsettling feeling about her smile pointed to something more.

“You mean to say you want breakfast.”

“I would prefer to peruse your purse, but when you keep it in your pocket even asleep…” The child trailed off, her eyebrows raised just a fraction.

“It’s to prevent dubious people from taking it. I see it’s working as intended.”

He arose from the painfully thin mattress, ignoring the disatisfied look from the other and instead inspected himself at the dresser, noting his bed hair with some distaste.

“Dubious is no way to address me.”

“No,” he agreed. “Neither is calling me good keeper with that mocking smile you love so much. Ilen.”

Her smile twisted slightly, dispelling all innocence that she once had. “So, good keeper, you admit my words have effect.”

He turned around, casting her the same neutral expression, complete with the hint of a bored look that came with his half opened eyes. “Do I appear to show such?”

Her smile faded away, replaced with a frown of clear dissatisfaction that failed to last as an audible sound echoed from her stomach.

“Come. We will have breakfast.” He stood up to leave, barely giving Ilen a second glance. “Close the door as well.”

“You are anathema to enjoyment, Zhelan.” She pouted, just as the door slammed behind her with a startlingly loud bang.

“To your enjoyment, as I vowed. And mind your strength.” He replied simply, turning a corner around the hallway to the stairways leading downwards.

“You would pay for the repairs, I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid then, we would have to cut back our food expenses for the month.”

The footsteps behind him abruptly stopped.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.”

He made his way down, ignoring the sullen silence from her, through the lounge and reception on the ground floor, and then the glass double doors and led him outside. None gave him attention, save a quiet nod of courtesy from the receptionist. Better to be forgotten than remembered, he thought.
The eatery they found themselves in the small town was a cheap and gaudy one, but for all its appearance as a crumbling shack and the crude noises that came from some of its patrons, it seemed to offer the best fare at affordable prices. They sat at the bar table for lack of space and placed their orders.

“You have a strange look on you, Zhelan. Does my curse speak to you?” A mischievous smile spread across Ilen’s lips.

Zhelan did not respond immediately, but his brow did furrow as if she had been right.“You will see.”

“What a lackluster reply.” She commented with a sigh, even as hint of amusement remained in her voice.

But almost as if on cue a thin man made his way to the seat beside Zhelan, his movements brisk and deliberate, movements that did not belong to one in need of food or drink. Already Ilen craned her neck to watch what this newcomer would do, but Zhelan remained as composed as before.

“You Zhelan? I’ve got something for you. Urgent.” The man rasped, keeping his head low and only speaking loud enough for the other to hear.

There was the briefest of pauses as Zhelan tapped the table once. “I am.”

A loud bang reverberated throughout the eatery and subsequently the dull clatter of metal upon wood, stilling all noise save for a gleeful clap from Ilen. The stranger did not speak, only staring at his hand which once held a pistol. It was gone, blown away by an unseen force the moment it fired. He reached into his coat once more, but was swiftly caught by the neck and thrown onto the bar table. No amount of clawing freed himself from suffocation, and soon shock quickly descended to despair and fear.

“Ilen.” Zhelan commanded.

“You need not speak.” She replied in the usual belittling tone. She clambered onto the table, brushing her fingers mockingly across the man’s face, that scrunched further at the sight of her expression.

“How I wish i could feed upon you…” Ilen mused with a wistful tone, but quickly shook her head. “No, it is time to go. Goodbye human, it was a brilliant performance. More than you deserved.”

Her hands brushed across his eyes and with a sudden shudder he ceased to move. The eerie silence carried on for but a few moments, before realisation hit all that was present in the room. Zhelan whisked Ilen off the table amidst the screams and yells, dashing out of the eatery with the demon in his arms.

“We’ve yet to eat.” She complained.

“That will come later. I’ll buy some chocolate at the gas station.”

“...You are excused.” Ilen gave a triumphant grin and snuggled herself against his arms as comfortably as she could.