The mont Flynn logged into Continent of Aetheria, a private ssage from Let-There-Be-Light popped up.
"Night-Stalker, it’s ti. Amy hit level fifteen ahead of schedule and she’s already in Moster. We’re gathering at the west gate. Let’s move."
"On my way," Flynn replied, accepting the party invitation as he did. After a quick farewell to Gnomo, he climbed into a carriage bound for the West District, settling back as the vehicle lurched into motion.
The current lineup was Let-There-Be-Light, Not-A-Bystander, Amy, and a Duelist Flynn had never t before, a player nad Peerless Blood-Sword.
The instant Flynn joined the party, a ssage appeared in the chat.
"Hello, expert."
Flynn couldn’t help but laugh. "Are you talking to ?"
"I am," Peerless replied, the enthusiasm practically audible through the text. "Bystander said you’re incredible, and the boss told I’ve got a lot to learn from you."
"Mm. Then I’ll make sure to give you a pointer or two when I have the ti," Flynn answered, entirely straight-faced.
Everyone except Amy was montarily speechless at his shaless acceptance of the complint. Amy, who knew him better than anyone here, rely rolled her eyes.
’Not modest at all. More like pathologically self-assured.’
Still, she had to admit he had the skill to justify it.
Oblivious to the silent reactions on the other end, Flynn asked, "Are we ready?"
"All set." Let-There-Be-Light took a steadying breath before continuing. "I bought twenty-five potions, five each. We’ve got the chanical Dolls you made, too. And the gear Amy was holding, we distributed it to the studio mbers who needed upgrades. I hope that’s alright."
"Of course," Flynn replied without hesitation. "It’s yours."
"No." Let-There-Be-Light shook his head. "That wouldn’t be fair. Let’s settle it now. Seven pieces of gear and ten chanical Dolls. How does one hundred gold sound?"
"One hundred?" Flynn paused, genuinely surprised.
The Bronze items he usually offloaded through Amy sold for around two gold apiece, and the price was slipping lower every day as supply increased. The materials for a chanical Doll barely cost more than one gold. By rough calculation, the total value was nowhere near a hundred.
Let-There-Be-Light gave a rueful chuckle. "It’s actually cheap. If you auctioned the Ring of Kolut’s Roar alone, you’d get at least sixty gold. What we’re offering is already discounted. It’s everything we could scrape together on short notice. Dungeons burn through money like crazy. Hope you’re not pissed."
The blunt honesty disard any suspicion before it could even form. By admitting the numbers plainly, Let-There-Be-Light made it clear he was not trying to take advantage of Flynn. If Flynn felt shortchanged, he could simply ask for the items back.
Truth was, Flynn couldn’t care less about the gold. As long as he had enough to get by, he wasn’t interested in stacking coins. He agreed to the price without hesitating, which left the others feeling grateful and kinda guilty at the sa ti. They knew they owed him big ti
The carriage cut through the streets at impressive speed. A trip that would have taken twenty minutes on foot ended in less than three. By the ti Flynn stepped off at the drop-off point, the west gate was only a short jog away.
He had barely started moving when the party chat exploded.
"Boss, watch out!" Peerless Blood-Sword’s clear, youthful voice rang out. "So foreign players just ganked !"
"Foreigners?" Flynn’s interest sharpened instantly.
"Damn, not these guys again," Let-There-Be-Light chid in. "Night-Stalker, hurry up! These foreigners are causing problems."
The words had barely left him before he grimaced at his own tone. It sounded as if their entire outco depended on Flynn’s arrival. He hated that feeling.
Not-A-Bystander was pissed. "These idiots have a death wish, acting like they own the place right outside Moster!"
It was not an empty boast. More than eighty percent of Moster’s player base ca from the North Arican region. Though divided into countless guilds and rival factions, they were remarkably unified when it ca to foreign players. Over the past few days, several large-scale PvP clashes had broken out, and every one had ended in a decisive North Arican victory.
"Almost there," Flynn replied, breaking into a sprint.
With his high Agility, he moved noticeably faster than the average player, weaving through the crowd and closing the distance in seconds.
Outside the west gate, Peerless Blood-Sword’s body lay sprawled on the ground, his spirit already released and on its way back from the graveyard.
Let-There-Be-Light, Amy, and Not-A-Bystander stood facing Kazehana’s group in a tense standoff. Among the enemy players was a familiar face: King of Nibelung. He and several ranged attackers had focused their fire with ruthless precision, deleting Peerless before he even had a chance to react.
Kazehana stood at the front, her expression cool and openly disdainful.
"You idiots," she said as her gaze swept over them. "I finally caught you. This ti I’m camping your corpses. I won’t stop until I’ve sent every one of you back to the Starter Zone."
King of Nibelung scanned the area uneasily.
Flynn was not visible. That offered so comfort, but not much. He knew better than to trust his eyes. A Rogue could be in Stealth at this very mont. The re thought made the back of his neck prickle, as if he could already feel a dagger pressing against his spine.
’Damn it. That guy really got into my head.’
Being killed three tis in a row by the sa player was not just frustrating. It was humiliating.
Let-There-Be-Light’s expression darkened. He had seen Kazehana’s group approaching earlier but assud they would not dare attack so close to the city gate, especially with so many players around. He’d underestimated how crazy she was. To get her revenge, she didn’t care who saw or what happened.
It was exactly like the Starter Zone incident, where she had sacrificed her entire team just for the chance to drag his down with her.
"This psycho," he muttered through gritted teeth. He was supposed to be going for a world-first clear of the Ceylan Ruins, not wasting ti here with these nutjobs.
"Light, what do we do?" Amy asked in the party chat. "We fighting?"
"Yeah, we fight," he said. "But drag it out. Wait for Night-Stalker." He glanced at the map. Flynn was close. Once he showed up, they’d actually have a chance.
A few nearby North Arican players noticed the confrontation.
"Hey, you need help?" one of them called out.
The recent PvP clashes in Moster had left tempers running high. No one felt charitable toward foreign players, and seeing their own side outnumbered stirred a sense of instinctive solidarity.
Kazehana turned sharply toward the would-be reinforcents, as her gaze turned icy.
"This is private," she said. You’d be smart to stay out of it. Sun-King won’t be happy if you don’t."
"Sun-King?"
The na passed through the crowd in a wave of startled murmurs.
The players who had offered help hesitated, then exchanged uneasy looks before stepping back with awkward apologies. Let-There-Be-Light and his teammates were equally shaken.
Any serious gar knew that na.
Sun-King held over sixty thousand points in the World Gaming Alliance rankings, nearly double the score of a player like Chad. Breaking into the top ten thousand marked soone as world-class. Players around thirty thousand were respected within their regions, skilled but not globally renowned.
But anyone above fifty thousand sat comfortably in the global top one hundred.
They were legends. Household nas in competitive gaming. They had Sponsorship deals worth millions. Sun-King was one of the top ten players in Asia, a figure whose reputation alone carried weight.
Let-There-Be-Light himself ranked just inside the top ten thousand, and barely at that. Compared to soone like Sun-King, the gap was enormous. Not-A-Bystander and Amy trailed even further behind at thirty and forty thousand respectively.
They looked to Let-There-Be-Light for a decision.
He felt a dull ache forming at his temples. Kazehana was reckless and vindictive. She would not stop unless forced to. But if she truly had ties to Sun-King, offending her could bring consequences far beyond a single PvP skirmish. Their studio lacked the influence to withstand that kind of pressure. A single comnt from a player of his stature could unleash a tidal wave of harassnt.
For a brief mont, they hesitated.
Then Flynn’s voice cut cleanly through the party chat.
"Amy. Focus King of Nibelung. Kill him."
The words had barely sunk in when a violent spray of blood burst from the top of Nibelung’s head.
Behind him, Flynn’s form flickered into view.
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