A series of notifications flashed before Ryan’s eyes, each one a welco sight.
—
[Glorious Achievent: Swamp Ally]
2 Free Attribute Points
2 Auxiliary Talent Points
50 Health Points
40 Mana Points
50 Gold
2000 Alliance of Light Reputation
—
Two more Auxiliary Talent Points. Ryan couldn’t help grinning. He’d been sitting on a single point, too hesitant to use it, but now, with three in total, he could finally open the Book of Light and unlock so of the more powerful talents.
It felt extravagant, like burning through savings in one go, but the boost in power would more than pay for itself.
The system finished tallying rewards, and the grand prize for [King of the Nyman] dropped into his inventory. An orange icon shimred faintly before resolving into the image of a legendary mount.
—
Swift Marsh Drake
Binds on Pickup
Level: 40
Requires: Riding Skill
Effect: Movent speed increases with Riding Skill level
—
Ryan’s excitent faltered when his eyes landed on the requirents. Level 40. He still had a climb ahead of him before he could even touch Riding Skill, let alone take this beast for a spin.
At Level 40, players could finally learn Novice Riding from their capital cities. That first tier was enough to buy mounts tied to reputation vendors, though most of those starter creatures were sluggish, offering little more than a sixty percent boost in speed.
As riders advanced, they would unlock Journeyman Riding, then Master, and eventually reach the top tiers, where mounts tore across the land at triple speed. And for those willing to brave the most dangerous regions, there was Flight Riding—winged mounts that carried players into the skies, above the grind of the world below.
Even if the Swift Marsh Drake was out of reach for now, Ryan couldn’t resist a preview. He summoned the image window, curious to see just how majestic his prize really was.
The projection flickered into view, and Ryan froze.
What stared back at him wasn’t a drake. It was a giant insect.
He blinked, checked the na again, then the image. No mistake—this was supposed to be his Swift Marsh Drake. But on the screen lood a hulking monstrosity straight out of the Dreadful Mire: three ters tall even when hunched, body plated in an obsidian-black exoskeleton, eight thick legs pumping with reptilian precision. The thing moved with a sinuous rhythm, half reptile and half horror, but unmistakably more bug than dragon.
Ryan scratched his chin. "Drake" seed like false advertising, but still—there was no denying it looked formidable. He could already imagine the stares when he rolled through town riding the thing.
He pushed the mount’s preview into the guild channel, tagging it clearly as the Swift Marsh Drake. The replies ca flooding back almost instantly.
"Guild Leader, where in the world did you dig that up? That’s not a drake—that’s a nightmare bug from so sci-fi horror!"
"Calling that a drake is like calling a cockroach a wyvern," another added. "It’s a bug, plain and simple."
"Wait, wait," a third chid in, "If you could actually ride it, though, wouldn’t it be kind of epic? Creepy, sure, but epic."
"Oh, co on," soone else scoffed. "The Guild Leader probably found so abomination again. If it were , I’d take the Spotted Serpents from the Valley of Spirits. Those Night Elf border beasts? Now those look like real monsters."
As the guild’s chatter spiraled into a debate over which in-ga beasts were beautiful and which were abominations, Ryan decided it was ti to pull out his trump card. The argunt had run its course.
"Check this out, everyone," he said, dropping the Swift Marsh Drake’s legendary stats into the channel.
The reaction was imdiate and explosive.
"Holy smokes, a legendary mount!"
"Oh my god, legendary! I’m still stuck in rare gear—I haven’t even seen an epic yet!"
"Guild Leader, you’re a god! Hand that mount over!"
"The first legendary item, and it’s a mount? Guild Leader, you’re unreal!"
Monts ago, the channel had been a sleepy stream of banter. Now it was a torrent, every quiet mber and lurker coming out of the woodwork, their ssages flooding the screen faster than Ryan could read them.
One voice rose above the chaos: "Damn it, hurry and post this on the forums! Let those clowns see it for themselves! Show them the Guild Leader didn’t skip the Forest of Decay because he was scared—he was busy getting the best loot in the ga!"
"Exactly!" another agreed. "They’re all over the forums saying you knew you couldn’t handle the Forest, so you ran off to grind quests instead. Weak, they called you! Weak!"
Piece by piece, Ryan pieced together the picture. He had muted guild chat earlier, focusing on the quest, and missed the storm entirely. Now, as he scrolled through their angry recounts, he could only smile faintly.
So that was it. Critics and gossips, bitter because he hadn’t played to their expectations, had been spinning stories to tear him down. They wanted him humbled, wanted proof that the so-called Guild Leader wasn’t untouchable.
Pathetic.
Ryan scoffed quietly. He wouldn’t waste words on them. Let them bark on the sidelines. As long as he kept climbing, reaching peaks they couldn’t even glimpse, their faces would keep getting slapped, again and again.
"Guild Leader, say sothing!" a young woman chid in, her lively tone cutting through the frenzy. "Should we post this legendary mount on the forums? Or should we post it? Or should we definitely post it?"
Ryan chuckled. "No need to ask. Of course we’re posting it. Ti to shut them up."
He left it to the guild to handle the announcent. His own focus had already shifted. There was a new finish line: Level 40, the next Glorious Achievent, and reaching it before anyone else.
"Alright then!" Winter Lily declared, her voice brimming with fire. "That’s what I wanted to hear. Let’s put them in their place. They say Flowing Light is just a tiny guild, and our Guild Leader just so lucky guy with a bit of skill. Well, let’s prove them wrong."
She lived for monts like this.
"Then give it your all," Ryan said with a smile. "I’m going to claim the world’s first Level 40."
Before the words had fully left his lips, the flat clearing ahead of him shimred. Dozens of Nyman warriors materialized at once, their ranks bristling with weapons. At their center stood Agu, the Nyman shaman who had disappeared earlier.
The battlefield quest had begun—one that demanded the presence of every player.
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