Dexter surveyed his surroundings before approaching the hut. Inside, he found a blacksmith hamring away at an anvil, completely absorbed in his work.
"Hey!"
The blacksmith didn't even glance up.
"Hey, NPC!"
With a sigh, the blacksmith finally looked at him.
"Go get your materials."
[!!!]
[Newbie Guide: Craft Sword and Shield #1 [_]]
[Stone: 0/10]
[Branch: 0/10]
Clad only in a white loincloth—his starting gear—Dexter dashed outside, eagerly gathering stones and branches scattered across the grassy field.
[Newbie Guide: Craft Sword and Shield #1 [✓]]
[Newbie Guide: Craft Sword and Shield #2 [_]]
[Sword crafted: 0/1]
[Shield crafted: 0/1]
He rushed back to the blacksmith, beaming as he presented his haul.
"What should I do with that?" the blacksmith grunted.
"Make a sword and shield!"
"There's an empty anvil over there. Make it yourself—can't you see I'm busy?"
'Fucking hell? Even crafting is manual?!'
Dexter marched to the anvil, grabbed a hamr, and struck a stone—only for it to crumble into dust.
'How the hell am I supposed to make a sword out of this?!'
He gathered more stones, hamred them, failed, and repeated the process until his patience ran out.
"Hey! Can't you just make a damn sword? I need to get to the Warring Kingdom ASAP!"
The blacksmith shot him a look of pure disdain.
"What a fool... Use your fucking mana, idiot."
'The Eldrion Online I knew didn't use mana for crafting—you just clicked and let RNG handle it!'
'How the hell do I use mana?!'
Gripping the hamr, Dexter focused on the stone, then swung with all his might while yelling—
"MANA!"
Tonk—
A tal rod slamd into his skull, dropping his HP from 300 to 280.
"Don't you fucking destroy my things, you dumb idiot! Feel the mana leaving your body—don't shout it! You dumb fuck..."
Dexter scratched his head. Then, once again...
He began hamring the stone, but this ti with gentle taps, feeling the mana flowing from his body with each strike. Magically, the stone transford into a blade. He repeated the process with the wood—
—hamring it as well.
The blacksmith stood beside him, watching with pity in his eyes.
"I feel sorry for your parents for raising you in this world."
Dexter snapped. He swung his hamr at the blacksmith's head, but a hexagonal shield blocked the attack.
["Ert!" Killing civilians is not allowed in Safe Zones.]
'I'll kill this motherfucker if I see him in the Uncharted Zone...'
Not that it mattered—the blacksmith could never leave the starting area.
'Damn it... I'm getting tilted by an NPC.'
"Isn't it a common sense to use knife or a chisel if you want to craft sothing out of wood? It's my first ti seeing soone hamr it... I'm really sorry if I called you an Idiot—I feel like it was an insult to the word itself."
Dexter took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. He grabbed a knife and chisel, carefully carving the wood while channeling mana. Next, he joined the blade and hilt, infusing them with mana until they fused into a crude sword.
After crafting a second sword and a shield from his remaining materials, Dexter faced a new problem: storage. With no bag, he improvised straps from tree bark, attaching them to the shield to wear it like a backpack.
He gave both swords an experintal swing—only for his arms to tremble from their uneven weight and heft.
'This feels incredibly real... I love this dream!'
'Ti to claim my reward.'
Dexter moved to the wall and opened the chest on the ground.
"You fucking thief! Put those boots down!" the blacksmith yelled.
"Why? Isn't this my reward?" Dexter replied.
"Who the hell told you there's a 'reward'? Are you insane?"
"Whatever. I'm taking these boots—no ti to argue."
Ignoring the blacksmith, he slipped on the boots and left the hut, heading straight for the gate
[Newbie Guide: Craft Sword and Shield #2 [✓]]
[Newbie Guide: Proceed to Small Village and talk to Capt. Audrey [_]]
'If I rember correctly, opening this gate will spawn two bandits I need to kill before moving forward.'
Dexter pushed open the gate—and sure enough, two bandits stood waiting ahead.
In one swift motion, he swung his crude sword horizontally at the first bandit's neck. But the blade was too dull to fully decapitate him, resulting in a grotesque spray of blood instead.
'Damn, that's brutal. Is there a censorship option?'
The second bandit jumped to his feet, startled by the sudden attack from a near-naked man in just a loincloth with a weird boots.
"You fucking pervert! Why kill him? What'd he ever do to you?" the bandit scread.
"Do I need a reason to kill a mob?" Dexter shot back.
"This bastard—!"
The bandit lunged, driving his shortsword toward Dexter's chest. Dexter raised his crude sword to block—but the blade shattered on impact, and the bandit's strike pierced his shoulder instead.
The force of the blow sent Dexter stumbling backward, clutching his bleeding wound as he scrambled to put distance between them.
[!!!]
[System Alert: Sudden health drop detected. Warning—Do not die during the Tutorial. Body reconstruction in 'Server: Earth, Channel: 5632' will be impossible if fatal damage occurs.]
[HP: 180/300]
[MP: 300/300]
[SP: 260/300]
[Status: Bleeding (-1 HP/sec)]
'FUCK! FUCK! WAKE UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE!'
"Does it hurt? See that corpse you made? You'll join him soon—just slower," the bandit taunted, circling Dexter.
"FUCK YOU, TRASH MOB! YOU'RE JUST XP—LET KILL YOU ALREADY!" Dexter spat through gritted teeth.
"Pain driving you insane? Can't bla you..." The bandit grinned, relishing Dexter's agony as he advanced.
"I'll carve you up piece by piece, you loincloth-wearing freak."
The bandit slashed thodically—shallow cuts everywhere, maximizing pain without granting rcy. Blood seeped from dozens of wounds, but death stayed just out of reach.
Then, like a flipped switch, Dexter's pro-gar instincts overrode the panic.
'Move. NOW.'
He scooped dirt and hurled it into the bandit's eyes. Montary blindness—all he needed.
THUNK.
His broken sword plunged into the bandit's chest.
Gasping, Dexter staggered toward the hut, leaving a crimson trail. The blacksmith's insults died in his throat at the sight.
"Help... ..." Dexter rasped.
"You reckless thief—! Don't you fucking die on !"
[HP: 37/300]
[MP: 300/300]
[SP: 49/300]
[Status: Critical Bleeding (-3 HP/sec)]
His vision darkened. The ground rushed up—
[Consciousness Lost.]
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