Chapter 1: An Unusual Request

Part 1

Shin soothed the little fox resting on his head and set off toward the royal capital. After repeatedly saying, “Use your paw punches with claws retracted,” he ultimately managed to calm the creature. Prior to that, its claws had touched his face, making him stumble awkwardly.

After taking Millie’s advice, a girl from the orphanage, Shin had found himself fighting numerous Skullfaces. During the battle at the forest shrine, he’d rescued a small fox—an Element Tail.

With the battle concluded, the forest buzzed with life. This vibrant scene stood in sharp contrast to the eerily quiet trek to the shrine. Shin wondered whether the animals had hidden themselves as the swarm of Skullfaces drew near during his journey.

Nonetheless, the massive number of Skullfaces couldn’t be attributed to natural events. This extensive gathering could only occur in familiar undead-spawning locations such as graveyards, underground dungeons, or other perilous areas shrouded in miasma.

“I’ll have to inform the guild,” Shin sighed. He looked at the fox lounging leisurely on his head and reflected, At least I should keep the Element Tail under wraps for the time being.

“Hey, I’ve got a suggestion,” he called out.

“Ku?” The fox emitted a curious sound, tilting its head in response. By now, Shin had realized that the creature could understand him.

“If your real identity is exposed, we could both face consequences. What do you think about making a pact with me?”

The “pact” he mentioned was a partner contract between a Tamer and a monster. Unlike Summoners, who could form an unlimited number of contracts with summoned beasts, Tamers were restricted to five contracts at a time. However, if a Tamer changed professions, they were allowed to retain one partner contract.

Although this limitation reduced the number of contracts a Tamer could hold, it was usually sufficient for most adventurers, providing them with a pet-like companion or light support. This seemed to be one such case.

Shin typically had competent support characters by his side, so he’d never felt the need for a partner monster. However, at Kashmia’s—a Tamer and Summoner from the guild Six Devas—suggestion, he’d hesitantly agreed to learn how to form contracts. In reality, it hadn’t been much of a decision; he’d been more or less persuaded into it. He’d never anticipated that this choice would come in handy in a situation like this.

“I’m not a Tamer, so I don’t get any special perks,” he clarified. “But if we form a contract, no one else will be able to see your level or species. Plus, we’ll be able to talk without needing any items.”

In The New Gate, a mechanic prevented players with lower levels or stats from viewing the stats of much stronger opponents. This mechanic often influenced how players assessed an enemy’s power. Furthermore, this rule applied to partner monsters as well, as others would need access to their contracted player’s stats for their own stats to be visible. By forming a contract with Shin, who possessed immense strength in this world, the little fox’s stats would be effectively concealed from almost everyone.

Furthermore, telepathic communication was unique to the connection between a Tamer and their partner monster. To an observer, it may seem as though they were engaged in a silent struggle, but in truth, the Tamer would be issuing clear commands to their partner throughout the fight. This aspect defined a Tamer’s approach to battling alongside their partner monsters.

“Ku?! Kuku!” The little fox let out a spirited cry, delivering another paw punch as if to say, “Really?! Let’s do it!” Somehow, Shin could already understand what the fox meant, even without the contract.

“Okay, okay! Just hold still for a second!” Shin said, both exasperated and amused. He raised the fox above his head and carefully turned it to face him. Placing his forehead against the fox’s, he uttered the key phrase.

“I wish to walk alongside you.”

“Ku…” the fox responded with a gentle cry, mirroring Shin’s words. If it were a monster with the ability to speak, it would probably have said, “I pledge to stay by your side.”

As the cry faded, a falcon-shaped tattoo appeared on their left arm and forepaw respectively, symbolizing their contract.

Players could personalize the contract seal, which was used to differentiate partner monsters from regular ones. Typically, partner monsters raised by players were more powerful than standard monsters, sometimes resulting in situations where inexperienced players would accidentally target a partner monster, leading to a quick defeat in response.

“Well then, let’s make it official,” Shin said.

“Ku!” chirped the little fox, raising its right paw as if to say, “Nice to meet you!” It was heartwarming.

“First, there’s something we need to do after forming a contract,” Shin added.

“Ku?” The fox tilted its head curiously.

“We should assign you a name. Element Tail refers to your species, but when you become a partner, it’s important to have a name that is distinctively yours.”

“Ku?! Ku-ku!” The fox jumped with excitement, its paws thudding against Shin’s head as if inquiring, “Really? What name?” Trying to soothe the fox, Shin gently calmed it down.

“Hold still, you’re shaking my head!” he chuckled. Suddenly, an idea struck him. “What about… Yuzuha?”

“Ku… Ku…” The fox quieted, its faint voice fading as if considering the name. After a moment, it chirped cheerfully. “Ku!” It appeared to embrace the name fondly.

The idea of the Element Tail in the game’s quests had drawn some inspiration from the legends of the nine-tailed fox, which often appeared in a female form. This might have led Shin to instinctively consider a name with a feminine touch.

“Well, technically, gender isn’t really a thing for you,” Shin remarked. Male or female distinctions didn’t bind monsters like the Element Tail. They could appear as either. While the standard form presented to players was typically female, Shin recalled reading on a strategy site that, on rare occasions, they could appear as male. However, he had never seen it himself.

“Ku?”

“Nothing. If you ever find yourself in a male form, we’ll refer to you as Yuzuto or something similar.”

Many novels, manga, and anime often depicted a character snuggling with an animal at night, only to discover a beautiful naked person beside them upon waking. Although Shin wasn’t sure if the Element Tail could transform into a humanoid like in the game, he couldn’t help but hope it would be female if it did. The thought of waking up beside a man was a definite dealbreaker for him.

My luck stat is low. It probably won’t turn humanoid anyway.

“Ku?” Yuzuha tilted its head once more in response to Shin’s whispered thoughts.

“No weird luck here,” Shin murmured. Yuzuha, now officially named, observed its rather peculiar master with a touch of worry but ultimately thought, Oh well.

After all, Yuzuha was still just a young fox. Thinking deeply about such matters wasn’t its strong suit. Instead, it focused on lightly batting Shin’s forehead with its soft paw, claws retracted, in a playful manner.

Shin responded to the light taps with a cheerful, “What’s up?” For Yuzuha, who had suffered through poison and curses alone for a long time, these simple, seemingly trivial interactions brought her genuine happiness.

Part 2

“Hmm?”

As he approached the edge of the northern forest, Shin heard a familiar electronic ping near his ear. This sound, frequently encountered in the game, indicated level-ups, incoming messages, or event notifications. Since Yuzuha didn’t react, it appeared that only Shin could perceive it.

“A message? From Tiera, huh?”

A translucent notification appeared at the edge of his vision, stating, You have a new message. Even after several days in this world, such distinctly game-like occurrences still made Shin feel as if he might be trapped in the game.

“The system’s partial functionality creates a strange disconnect,” he muttered. In the VR game world, where everything resembled a game interface, it felt natural. Yet experiencing those same effects in what now seemed like reality was jarring.

“Is this what it feels like when the boundaries between a game and reality start to fade?” he pondered, frowning. Nevertheless, the ease was undeniable. With a sigh of resignation, he opened the message.

To Shin,

When I tested it, I found that I could send you a message. I don’t know if Master Schnee has a message card, but if I receive a reply, I’ll let you know.

P.S. Can’t you attach items to a message card or something?

It seemed Tiera, familiar with Schnee in this world, had sent a message card without any trouble. Shin, who had failed to get in touch with Schnee himself, hadn’t contemplated that Tiera might succeed in contacting her.

“At least we’ve made contact. I’ll take it,” Shin muttered, reassuring himself that the outcome was satisfactory. In his reply, he chose to experiment with Tiera’s idea by including an unused message card with his response.

The message card transformed into shimmering particles of light and merged into the response letter. It seemed only lightweight items could be included, yet it was still remarkably convenient.

“So, this is how things work in this world. You couldn’t attach items in the game.”

This was a minor yet fascinating difference. I ought to assess additional items too. The increased flexibility relative to the game hinted at the possibility of unforeseen results.

Considering the vast number of items in his inventory, Shin realized that testing them all would be a formidable challenge. Just the idea gave him a slight headache.

“Keep me updated if Schnee replies, okay?” he said in his response, along with instructions for attaching the item. After that, he continued walking toward the eastern gate of the royal capital.

Although he intended to keep Yuzuha a secret, he could not escape reporting to the guild about the assault by nearly three hundred Skullfaces.

“Hey, Shin! What’s on your head this time?”

At the eastern gate, Beid approached Shin. After their nearly daily encounters, the rigid formality of their initial meeting had disappeared.

“That’s Yuzuha, my new partner,” Shin remarked, gesturing toward the small fox perched on his head. “By the way, I’d like to verify, are there any rules regarding bringing a partner monster into town?”

Shin anticipated that, despite a Tamer’s oversight, introducing a monster straight into the city would pose a problem.

“If it’s a large or aggressive monster, there are several restrictions,” Beid replied. “However, for something this small, it won’t be an issue. You only need to complete some paperwork we provide and log the contract seal to show it’s your companion. That’s basically it.”

“Surprisingly lax,” Shin remarked, caught off guard by the straightforwardness of the process.

“Regulations are more stringent for creatures perceived as dangerous or troublesome. If a partner monster causes issues, the Tamer bears full responsibility. In certain areas, some individuals intentionally provoke partner monsters to lodge complaints and seek compensation from the Tamer. Be wary of such individuals.”

“Yeah, it makes sense that there are people like that.”

“It’s quite frustrating. However, if you impose too many restrictions on Tamers, their partner monsters become vulnerable. Striking the right balance is challenging.”

“It seems you’ve considered this carefully,” Shin replied, feeling reassured. Beid continued, mentioning that some individuals attempted to trap rare monsters for sale. Shin grasped the reasoning behind it. Tamers had the right to defend themselves if someone tried to forcibly take their partner monster, although dealing with the consequences could be quite intricate. Beid remarked with a sly grin, “If you decide to proceed, ensure it’s somewhere private.”

And that’s coming from a guard…

Beid emphasized that most attacks on partner monsters were linked to monster-trafficking organizations or other criminal groups, making them unworthy of mercy. Shin was determined not to remain silent if anyone threatened Yuzuha. Additionally, given Yuzuha’s significantly higher level compared to most individuals, anyone daring enough to start a fight would soon come to regret their decision.

“Name: Yuzuha. Species: Mystic Fox. Moving on…” Shin began filling out the paperwork Beid had passed to him.

Mystic Foxes were a type of fox monster, favored by players for their graceful looks and powerful skills.

Element Tails, designated as high-caliber boss monsters, were distinctive enough to constitute a separate species within the Mystic Fox family. They resembled advanced forms like high humans or high elves, illustrating an elite subgroup within their category. Thus, Shin’s classification of Yuzuha’s species wasn’t completely incorrect, but it wasn’t entirely accurate either.

“Okay, I’ve finished filling it out. Take a look at it,” Shin said, passing the form to Beid.

“Let’s see…” Beid examined the document, then nodded. “Looks good. Now, for the final step, registering the contract seal. Put the seal here.” He retrieved a purple sphere, roughly the size of a baseball, and extended it forward.

Shin and Yuzuha placed their left arm and paw, respectively, against the orb, which emitted a soft glow, revealing the image of a falcon, marking their contract seal.

“And that’s it. You’re officially registered,” Beid confirmed. “By the way, if your partner monster were to… well, die or get kidnapped, there is a process for dissolving the registration. Just keep that in mind.”

“I’ll strive to prevent that from happening.”

As he strolled through the busy streets with Yuzuha sitting on his head, he caught the intrigued looks from people around him. Children eagerly pointed and shouted, “Look, it’s a fox!” only to be shushed by their parents. Although Shin could let Yuzuha walk on the pavement, he considered it too dangerous in such a crowded place—not for Yuzuha herself, but for anyone who might inadvertently bump into her.

Disregarding the stares, Shin opened the doors of the Adventurers’ Guild, entering under the scrutiny of even more eyes. However, most weren’t focused on him but on Yuzuha perched on his head.

At the reception desk stood identical twins, Celica and Cilica, known for their professional demeanor, who greeted Shin in unison.

“Welcome! How may we help you?” they inquired, their voices in flawless harmony.

Although their gazes momentarily shifted to Yuzuha, their faces stayed expressionless—more out of habit than genuine curiosity. Shin was impressed by their composure.

“Uh, there’s something I need to report,” he started.

“We’re listening,” the twins replied in unison.

“Um, which one of you should I speak with?” Shin inquired uncertainly.

“I’ll han—”

“I’ll handle this!” declared Cilica, the younger of the twins, cutting off her elder sister Celica before she could speak.

The difference between the hardworking elder sister and the fun-loving younger sister was clear. Shin had quickly used their hairstyles to tell them apart, and it appeared his assumption was accurate.

“Cilica,” Celica said, her voice steady.

“What?” replied Cilica.

“Shin-sama stands before me, so it’s only right that I take care of this.” Celica’s expression was steady yet resolute.

“Oh, come on, I can do it as well,” Cilica insisted.

“No. I’ll do it.”

“You’re acting kind of different today.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Fine, fine. I’ll stay quiet.”

It seemed that Celica had triumphed in this instance. For Shin, it was irrelevant who handled his report; the information would remain unchanged regardless.

“Um… Can I start now?” Shin chimed in, attempting to ease the tension.

“I apologize for the disturbance. Please, continue,” Celica said, restoring her professional demeanor.

“Earlier today, I came across many Skullfaces in the heart of the northern forest. I eliminated all the ones I could find, but there’s a chance a few may have escaped, so I decided to report it just to be safe.”

“A large number, you say… But how many is that, exactly?” Celica inquired, her brows knitting together.

“I didn’t keep track, but I’d guess nearly a hundred,” Shin stated plainly.

“W-What?” Celica’s poise wavered.

Almost a hundred Skullfaces. Despite the recent encounter with a Jack-class monster, the sheer number caught her off guard. Although she didn’t visibly respond to Shin’s assertion of having defeated them, the gravity of the situation clearly disturbed her.

“Surely… there weren’t any particularly strong ones like before?” she asked with caution.

“No, this time they all fell within the usual levels and equipment parameters,” Shin assured her. “There was a combination of Jack-class and Pawn-class units, and they appeared to be arranged in a formation encircling a specific structure.”

“A structure, you say?” Celica inquired, leaning in with curiosity.

“Yes, a shrine. A place dedicated to worshipping deities,” Shin explained. Uncertain if the term would be clear, he provided a general description instead.

“A shrine… I’ve heard these places are found in Hinomoto, but I didn’t know one existed in the northern forest,” Celica reflected. It was likely that the shrine had remained unnoticed because of the barrier that repelled living beings. Given its localized impact, it was no wonder it had been ignored.

“When I approached out of curiosity, I suddenly heard the sound of something shattering, and that was when the Skullfaces began swarming. I think there was some kind of barrier in place, and it may have broken.”

“Did you discover anything inside?” Celica asked.

“There wasn’t much in the structure, but I noticed what appeared to be a magic circle. That’s the only significant thing I found,” Shin replied, deliberately leaving out any reference to Yuzuha as he discussed other observations.

“Thank you for your report,” Celica remarked, inclining her head slightly. “We will look into this alongside the recent Jack-class incident. If you observe anything further, do inform us. There could be specifics that only an eyewitness, such as you, might notice.”

“Got it. I’ll inform you if anything comes to mind,” Shin said. “By the way, I’ve gathered the hilk grass. Where should I leave it?”

While speaking, Shin retrieved a bundle of hilk grass he had conjured from an item card, presenting it to Celica. She pointed to a door next to the guild’s bulletin board.

“To submit it, please take it to the material counter in the room through that door.”

After thanking her, Shin left the reception desk and entered the designated room. Inside, five separate counters awaited, each staffed with a person prepared to manage incoming materials. Shin approached one of the counters and set the bundle of hilk grass on the surface.

“Please verify this for the collection request,” he stated.

“Understood. Please hold on for a moment,” the woman at the counter responded.

It was notable that all the staff present were women, with a man stationed near the door, presumably as a guard. The woman processing Shin’s request completely ignored Yuzuha, who was sitting on his head, concentrating solely on her work with a professionalism that Shin found admirable.

“Thank you for your patience. Unfortunately, I can’t confirm this as a completed request at this time,” she communicated, delivering the message with a steady yet assertive tone.

“What?!” Shin shouted in surprise.

After discovering the final piece of hilk grass while returning through the forest, Shin felt certain that this would signify the successful fulfillment of his first request.

“Out of thirty bundles, twenty-nine are certainly hilk grass, but one is a different herb known as jewel grass,” she clarified.

“W-What?!” Shin groaned, his shoulders drooping. However, her next words took him by surprise completely.

“That one jewel grass equals a platinum Jule coin in value.”

“A platinum coin?!” Shin gasped, his voice tinged with disbelief. He muttered, “That’s costly!” During his hunt for hilk grass, worth one silver Jule coin per thirty bundles, he’d inadvertently discovered a material worth a platinum Jule coin.

Indeed, Yuzuha had discovered the final piece. Shin had only taken a brief look at it without considering its value. Unlike rewards obtained from quests or events, items gathered in the field didn’t show detailed information unless appraised.

“But isn’t jewel grass only utilized for crafting fourth-tier recovery potions?” Shin pondered, gradually regaining his composure. After all, how could something employed for relatively mid-tier potions be so costly?

The woman at the counter, baffled by his reply, paused before responding, “Pardon me, but I believe you’re undervaluing its importance. Jewel grass holds considerable worth.”

Recovery potions were classified from Tier 1 to Tier 10, with lower tiers signifying greater strength. The effects of limb regeneration begin with fourth-tier potions. Although their healing speed did not match that of first- or second-tier potions, they were extremely beneficial for recovery after battles. For fighters lacking high-tier items, fourth-tier potions were essential.

Moreover, mixing Tier 1 Recovery Potion (Potion-One), Tier 1 Ether Potion (Aether-One), and some rare ingredients like jewel grass may produce an Elixir, an exceptional all-purpose recovery item.

For Shin, who regularly carried at least Tier 2 potions and even owned Elixirs, the significance of jewel grass felt abstract and distant.

“Do you have experience with potions above Tier 4?” the woman inquired, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“Just from tales I’ve heard,” Shin responded, maintaining a casual tone. He wanted to keep it a secret that he had potions as high as Tier 3 and Elixirs too. Concealing this information felt prudent.

Observing the woman’s doubtful gaze, Shin promptly asked to sell the jewel grass. After finalizing the transaction, he quickly stashed the money in his pocket and departed from the counter.

Before departing, he traded the hefty platinum coin for smaller gold and silver coins, which would be more convenient to use.

“Receiving this amount of income without finishing the request… What’s going on?” Shin murmured, clearly frustrated. After spending hours in the forest gathering the necessary hilk grass, he found it ironic to have earned so much from a different herb, leading him to doubt the value of his efforts. This feeling was amplified by the fact that, in the end, the request was still unfulfilled.

“Yuzuha, you really have a keen eye to have discovered that,” Shin said with heartfelt admiration.

“Ku! Ku-ku!” Yuzuha puffed out her chest proudly, as if to say, “Praise me, praise me!” Her tail energetically swished behind her atop Shin’s head.

With a smile, Shin reached up to gently pat Yuzuha’s head as they walked back to the guild hall. The mild disappointment he had experienced began to dissipate while he stroked her fur. Observing Yuzuha nuzzle her face against his hand transformed his previous frustrations into mere trifles.

Choosing not to think on it any longer, Shin turned his attention to the request board. Initially, when he accepted the hilk grass job, he had focused solely on G-rank postings. Now, he scanned the higher-ranked, more rewarding requests that were beyond his current capabilities.

While scanning the board, a smaller, nearly concealed bulletin captured his attention. Measuring about thirty cemels square, it was mounted beside the main board. The requests attached to it appeared handmade and rough, contrasting with the polished documents on the main board.

Intrigued, Shin stepped forward and began looking over the disorganized requests. One request stood out to him. He picked it up for a closer inspection.

To skill inheritors,

We have a request for your assistance. If interested, please contact the orphanage next to the church in the eastern district. Payment negotiable.

As Shin reviewed the details, he realized this request was beyond the typical guild ranking system. Such jobs were usually posted on a designated board often used by those in unusual circumstances. The requests ranged from pleas from needy children to assignments involving criminal acts.

When Shin asked Cilica about the purpose of that board, she replied, “Everyone has the right to make a request, no matter who they are.”

“However, many of these appear quite questionable…” Shin murmured, remembering a rumor he had caught wind of through his Listening skill.

The rumor concerned links between public guilds, like adventurer and merchant guilds, and secretive shadow guilds involved in illegal activities such as assassinations and kidnappings. It was said that shadow guilds would deal with troublesome clients or demanding nobles in return for the public guilds ignoring their crimes. Although there was no solid evidence, Shin couldn’t disregard the possibility.

“An orphanage? That reminds me of Millie,” Shin reflected, recalling Wilhelm’s words from their last meeting.

The idea that this request could be connected to Millie, the girl who had indirectly guided him to Yuzuha, made it feel inappropriate to overlook it.

I might as well take a look, Shin thought. He was planning to visit Millie anyway, so it made sense to ask about the request while he was there. With this in mind, he headed toward the orphanage in the eastern district.

Part 3

Guided by Celica’s directions, Shin strolled for a few minutes until he reached a church. It was precisely what one would imagine, a chapel adorned with stained-glass windows and exuding a serious atmosphere.

From the open doors, Shin observed the pews for worshippers and the bright stained-glass windows that cast multicolored light throughout the dim interior. The sun appeared perfectly angled behind the windows, bathing the area in a mystical glow.

Inside the chapel, aside from a couple of worshippers, two sisters were tending to it, with no priest or pastor present.

The interior may vary slightly, but this resembles the “Church” structure that can be constructed with the Architecture skill.

The Architecture skill, as its name implied, was utilized for building construction. Advancing through levels enabled the creation of more complex structures and detailed designs. Through his time with Cain, the unique magician and architect among the Six Devas, Shin had elevated his skill to level VI, gaining a discerning eye for assessing a building’s quality. Although this church was old, it had been carefully maintained, showcasing the dedication of its caretakers.

“Is there anything I can assist you with?” one of the sisters inquired, observing Shin as he examined the surroundings. She was a middle-aged woman, her brown hair tied neatly in a bun. Her calm black eyes regarded him steadily.

“Hm? Oh, my apologies. This is my first time visiting a place like this,” Shin said, feeling embarrassed.

Remaining quietly at the entrance, without praying or moving inside, might have made him appear suspicious. Nevertheless, the sister’s tone revealed no trace of caution.

Although he had no dealings with the church, Shin chose to inquire about the orphanage, which was out of sight of the entrance.

“I actually came about a request I saw at the guild, posted by the orphanage,” he said.

“You’re here because of the request?!” the sister exclaimed dramatically. Shin was surprised. Perhaps it was unusual for anyone to respond to requests from that specific bulletin board, or perhaps they hadn’t expected anyone to accept this one at all.

“Um, sure… I figured I’d find out what it’s about. Also, does this orphanage have a beastkin girl named Millie? I need to ask her something about this little fox, Yuzuha,” Shin said, pointing at the fox sitting on his head.

The sister finally spotted Yuzuha and widened her eyes in astonishment. She quickly regained her composure, but her gaze became a bit wary as she glanced back at Shin.

“What about Millie?” she inquired cautiously.

“In yesterday’s meeting, she brought up an interesting point. As I addressed the request, I looked into it and found Yuzuha,” Shin explained, lowering his voice to maintain discretion. The sister’s reaction suggested that Millie’s circumstances were probably unique.

“Understood. Please, follow me,” the sister said after a brief moment of contemplation. She instructed the other sister, whom she called Sister Rashia, to tend to the chapel before leading Shin outside and around the back of the church.

At the back of the church stood an aging structure that resembled an apartment complex. Though it showed signs of past repairs, it didn’t appear excessively worn. It appeared to be the orphanage.

Upon entering, Shin was led into what seemed to be a reception area.

“I’ll get Millie. Please stay here,” said the sister.

As Shin relaxed on the sofa, absorbing the room’s atmosphere, his sister soon returned with Millie.

“Shin-nii!” Millie softly exclaimed.

Initially concealed behind the sister, she spotted Shin on the sofa and hurried over to sit beside him.

“You don’t seem like a bad person after all,” the sister remarked with a soft smile, settling down on the sofa across from Shin.

Shin muttered, scratching his head, “Honestly, it’s a bit awkward being looked at so kindly all of a sudden…”

The sister laughed gently. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s been a while since Millie has connected with someone like this.”

“Wilhelm brought that up as well,” Shin said while nodding. “I’m Shin, by the way. I’m an adventurer.”

“Thank you for considering Millie’s request,” the sister said kindly. “I’m Tria Surius, a sister from the church and the one responsible for overseeing the orphanage.”

It appeared that she was the one in charge of the orphanage.

“Today, I’m here to confirm something,” Shin said, directing his gaze at Millie. “Hey, Millie. Was the ‘fox’ you talked about yesterday this one?”

He gestured toward Yuzuha. Millie’s expression brightened, and she nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that’s the one. Thank you!”

Suddenly, she embraced Shin tightly, conveying her gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” Shin chuckled. He then looked at Yuzuha, still sitting on his head. “Yuzuha, you should thank her too. If it weren’t for Millie, I might not have saved you.”

“Ku!” Yuzuha chirped in agreement.

While softly patting Millie’s head, Shin ensured that Yuzuha conveyed her appreciation. He couldn’t imagine what might have happened to Yuzuha without Millie’s support.

Yuzuha jumped down to the floor and performed a brief bow. Millie, in response, giggled happily, recognizing the gesture. After watching them, Shin focused back on Sister Tria, prepared to discuss the purpose of his visit.

Tria, the sister, watched the playful exchanges between Millie and Yuzuha, a soft smile appearing on her face. Yet, when Shin spoke to her, she straightened up, her expression turning serious.

“I have one more point to clarify,” Shin said. “It’s regarding the request I noticed on the guild board. Can you provide more details about it?”

“Yes, of course. You appear to be trustworthy,” Tria replied with a serious nod, her voice unwavering. The nature of this rank-exempt request implied there was more to it than it seemed.

“Since you’re here about that request, Shin-san, you must be a Skill Inheritor, right?” Tria inquired, her eyes locked on him.

“Well, something like that,” Shin replied somewhat ambiguously. Technically, he didn’t precisely mean what she intended, but he thought it would be simpler to agree with her assumption instead of complicating the conversation.

Based on Tiera’s insights, acquiring a skill typically earned goodwill, while inheriting one demanded considerable effort or financial investment. There were also simplified forms of skills called Arts, though Shin had not come across any yet.

“We’re searching for someone who possesses a particular skill,” Tria explained. “And if possible… though I know it’s a lot to ask… we’d like to request that they teach it as well.”

The gravity in her tone indicated that the skill she sought was essential. A few options quickly surfaced in Shin’s mind.

“Is it something like Heal or Cure?” Shin inquired, alluding to familiar restorative skills.

“No, nothing like that,” Tria replied, shaking her head. “The situation is a little more complicated.”

“Complicated?” Shin echoed, intrigued. Mastering basic recovery skills was essential for any support role, and he had been pondering whether requesting to teach them would be reasonable. However, it appeared this wasn’t Tria’s intent. The other ideas he considered included resurrection or light-element magic, but those were skills that couldn’t be casually taught.

“So, Tria-san, what exactly is the skill you’re looking for?” Shin asked, leaning forward slightly.

“It’s…”

“I apologize, I didn’t quite hear that. Could you say it again?”

“The skill we seek is Purification,” Tria repeated, this time with more volume, yet her tone revealed a trace of resignation, as though she anticipated that Shin would not be aware of it. “I take it… you’re not familiar with it?”

“Ah, Purification.”

“I recognize that this is a significant request, but…”

“Indeed, it’s a bit of a hassle, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s a hassle… Wait, what?”

Tria needed a few seconds to digest his reply, and once she did, her confusion was clear.

“Pardon me, but… could you repeat that?”

“Oh, I mentioned it’s somewhat of a hassle,” Shin reiterated nonchalantly.

Tria, at a loss for words, appeared completely bewildered. In contrast, Shin stayed composed and at ease, as if this interaction were perfectly ordinary. It reminded him of the situations he had recently become accustomed to.

“Do you… know how to acquire the skill?” Tria asked hesitantly, almost as if she were afraid of the answer.

“I absolutely do,” Shin replied promptly.

“Would you consider accepting the request?” Tria inquired, her tone reflecting both hope and doubt.

“That depends on you,” Shin said, his tone becoming more serious as his demeanor changed.

Despite his earlier relaxed manner, Shin had been thoughtfully assessing the situation. He initially sought to learn more about Millie, yet the conversation yielded no valuable insights. Instead, he uncovered the orphanage’s problem concerning the Purification skill, something he had not expected. For the time being, he opted to pretend he was familiar while keeping the full extent of his abilities to himself.

“I need some time to think about the reward,” Tria said carefully.

“There’s no need for payment,” Shin said, shaking his head. “Rather, I have a few requirements.”

Tria’s expression tightened at his words, as if she already anticipated what was about to happen.

“Conditions?” she asked, her voice tense.

“Yes. First, please share everything you know about Millie’s abilities. Second, I require any information you gather from the church over the next year. Third, ensure you do not disclose that I made this request. Even if someone from the church hierarchy inquires, just say I’m an adventurer assisting with volunteer work.”

The church served as a gathering spot for individuals of all ages and backgrounds—young and old, men and women. It was a space where secrets and hidden truths could emerge, prompted by the confessional aspect of addressing God. Although Tria seemed to embody goodness, she may not be aware of these obscure dynamics.

Shin, however, was more focused on the mysterious ability Millie had demonstrated. As a gamer, his mind naturally leaned toward explanations such as future sight or danger detection, concepts that would likely be dismissed outright in Shin’s original world.

“These are the rewards I’d like for my assistance,” Shin said, breaking the silence.

Tria, on the other hand, seemed deeply conflicted about how to proceed. If Shin had been ignorant of the skill’s nature, she might have pitied him and provided guidance in exchange for a modest reward. However, Tria was well aware of the risks involved in teaching a skill like Purification, and Shin, having been forewarned by Tiera about the complications, understood enough to demand a worthy reward.

From Tria’s viewpoint, disclosing Millie’s talents to a stranger who had just shown up posed a significant risk. There was no assurance that Shin would keep what he learned to himself. Moreover, he expected her to go against the highest ranks of the church by keeping his involvement confidential—a demand that would be daunting in any situation. Additionally, she had no solid evidence that Shin even had the means to obtain the Purification skill.

Powers such as foresight or threat perception, if discovered by the wrong individuals, greedy nobles, or those driven by self-interest, might jeopardize Millie’s safety. Casually accepting Shin’s terms was not an option.

As Shin waited patiently, the silence in the reception room became oppressive, while Tria was lost in thought, her lips forming a tight line.

“Everything will be all right.”

Millie’s soft voice broke the tension, slicing through the atmosphere like a light breeze.

“It’ll be fine.” Her voice held a surprising gravity, and as she spoke, she fixed her gaze on Tria. Her youthful eyes glimmered with an ethereal glow, far exceeding what one might anticipate from a child.

“Millie?” Tria inquired, taken by surprise.

“If Shin-nii is involved, it will be fine,” Millie stated with calm assurance.

“…”

Millie’s voice held conviction, and her gaze sparkled with brilliance, igniting something within Tria. After a brief pause for contemplation, she let out a soft sigh and nodded with determination.

“I see your point. We agree to your terms,” Tria finally replied. “However, we are newcomers. I’m uncertain how much assistance we can offer if you anticipate us finding substantial information.”

“Just inform me of any unusual comments made by visitors to the church,” Shin stated. “My main concern is grasping Millie’s ability.”

Trying to convert them into informants might backfire, and Shin wasn’t willing to take that chance.

“Millie possesses a gift title known as Star Reader,” Tria explained. “She has mentioned that she occasionally perceives things beyond typical vision. So far, everything Millie has seen or anticipated has proven accurate. I think she sought your assistance because she witnessed something through that ability.”

“Star Reader? Millie has a gift like that…” Shin murmured, his mind racing.

“Yes… Do you know anything about it?” Tria inquired, her face a mix of hope and uncertainty. “I’ve heard only fragments regarding this gift title. There are fewer holders of gift titles than skill inheritors, and they seldom disclose their abilities openly. All the information I’ve shared with you is from Millie.”

Hmm… Shin pondered, weighing the information thoughtfully.

In the game The New Gate, Star Reader was a gift title that provided basic hints to players when they accepted quests. Although Shin had the title, it had never functioned as it did for Millie. There may be specific conditions needed to fully unlock its potential, but nothing came to mind right away.

Millie’s abilities, without a doubt, did not match Shin’s understanding of The New Gate. If her Star Reader skill functioned as described, it might even offer a hint for returning to his original world.

Items such as Message Cards are behaving differently, and even gift titles seem to have changed. This alone makes it worth noting, though confirming it will be difficult, since Star Reader doesn’t activate on demand. It resembles a type of precognition…

Gift titles typically belong to two categories: permanently active passive abilities and on-demand triggered abilities. Star Reader stands out by activating during quests, allowing players to choose whether to use its effects.

Shin redirected his attention to a more urgent matter.

“If Millie’s talents were to become widely recognized, I can imagine people might attempt to kidnap her or something more sinister. How have you managed that risk?” Shin inquired, maintaining a light tone, though a serious note lingered beneath. As he spoke, he ensured to shield Millie’s ears with his hands.

“We ensure that only reliable people are aware of it, and we highlight how crucial it is to maintain confidentiality. Moreover, former residents of the orphanage who have turned into adventurers assist in safeguarding us.”

“Like Wilhelm?”

“Absolutely. He’s among the most dependable,” Tria affirmed. “Just his reputation keeps away most who would consider harming the children. Because of him, threats have dropped significantly.”

Although Wilhelm instilled fear in adventurers, Shin now believed he wasn’t a bad person. His intimidating reputation, whether good or bad, acted as a protective barrier for the orphanage. Although Wilhelm’s adversaries could potentially attack the orphanage in revenge, it appeared that other adventurers had intervened to stop such occurrences.

“All right then,” Shin said after a moment’s thought. “Since I’ve already received my reward, I’ll formally accept the request. Is Tria-san the one who’ll learn Purification?”

“No, actually,” Tria responded. “I’d prefer you to teach it to Sister Rashia—the other sister you saw in the church.”

“Oh? I thought it would be you.”

“Rashia is the priest’s granddaughter from this place,” Tria shared. “Passing on this skill to her will make the transition of responsibilities easier, considering her background.”

Shin felt that Tria was withholding information about the situation. There were undoubtedly more complexities involved in the decision, but he chose to leave it be for the moment. As he stroked Yuzuha’s fur, a wry smile crossed his face, and he began to anticipate the challenges that lay ahead.

Part 4

After agreeing with Tria’s suggestion to include Rashia in the detailed discussion, Shin resolved to remain at the orphanage until the church closed. Knowing she couldn’t leave her responsibilities, he chose to keep the children company in the meantime.

“A fox?!”

“It’s a fox!”

“Let me hug it!”

“No, I’ll hug it!”

“It’s me!”

“Ku…”

The children at the orphanage were captivated by Yuzuha. Although Yuzuha did not enjoy being treated like a toy, Shin had asked her to tolerate it for now, intending to step in to save her when the chance arose. Conversely, none of the children were brave enough to approach Shin. The sole exception was Millie, who stayed close to him.

“As expected, but wow, this loss really hurts…” he muttered, letting out a deep sigh.

“Try your best?” Millie suggested, her words providing a bit of comfort to his wounded pride.

“Well, I suppose it’s unreasonable to think they’d quickly embrace a complete stranger,” he confessed.

Children, particularly orphans, were often wary of strangers. Even with Tria’s introduction, earning their trust would require time, especially for those who had lost parents or siblings.

“Millie, don’t you want to join the others with Yuzuha?” Shin asked.

“I’d lose,” she replied flatly.

“Lose, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Her unexpected response caught him off guard, as she indicated she might lose in terms of strength. Considering her petite frame, it was understandable that she would be hesitant to jump into the crowd of children surrounding Yuzuha.

As Shin contemplated this, Yuzuha, unable to withstand the children’s continuous affection any longer, escaped their grasp and hurried over to Shin, perching herself on his head. Her fur was slightly raised, indicating her unease.

“Yuu-chan, come here,” Millie called softly.

“Ku,” Yuzuha said with a chirp, pausing briefly before releasing a small cry and resting in Millie’s open arms. After their earlier encounter, Yuzuha appeared quite at ease with her.

Apparently, Yuzuha’s nickname was “Yuu-chan.”

“Now I’ve got all the fluff to myself,” Millie declared with a victorious smile.

“You little schemer!” Shin gasped in mock astonishment.

“Victory, effortless,” Millie said with a deadpan yet triumphant tone.

“Are you trying to sound profound or something?!”

It seemed Millie had anticipated Yuzuha’s escape and taken full advantage.

“You’re terrifying, Millie!” Shin exclaimed with exaggerated dismay.

In the midst of this lighthearted interaction, Shin abruptly sensed someone observing him. When he glanced up, he saw the children watching him from afar.

“Well, now… What should I do?” he murmured thoughtfully.

While he contemplated his next move, the girl who seemed the oldest among them stepped forward. It appeared girls showed more bravery in these situations than boys. Shin couldn’t help but think, Come on, boys, step up!

The girl had gray hair that reached her shoulders and green eyes brimming with anxious resolve. In contrast to the younger children bustling around Yuzuha, she seemed to be on the cusp of adolescence.

“Greetings,” she offered warily.

“Hello. I’m Shin. You might know me through Tria, but I’m an adventurer. It’s great to meet you,” Shin remarked with a warm smile, reintroducing himself for clarity.

“I’m Kua. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the girl responded, her voice a bit shaky yet successfully delivering her words. Shin’s attempt to seem non-threatening appeared effective, as she reciprocated his introduction, though she spoke with a slight stutter.

“This little one is Yuzuha,” Shin said, pointing to his companion. “She’s my partner, so please be careful not to pull on her whiskers or tail too much, okay?”

“Are you the one who’s going to help us?” Kua asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Shin replied, puzzled.

“I mean, are you the one helping Sister?”

Shin could comprehend that. However, the expression “helping us” made him hesitate.

“Sister said this place might be gone soon,” Kua continued, her voice quieter now.

“Gone? Do you mean the church?”

“No, just the orphanage.”

“Only the orphanage?” Shin echoed, clearly taken aback. He had always thought of the church and the orphanage as inseparable. If the orphanage vanished, what would become of the children here? From Kua’s look, Shin realized the answer was likely grim.

“Can you tell me more about it? I’m not very familiar with the details myself,” Shin asked, his tone serious yet gentle, hoping to encourage her to open up.

“Okay,” Kua replied after a brief pause, possibly comforted by the sincerity in his tone.

She started describing the situation in a subdued tone.

This church apparently needed a priest or cleric with specific management skills, and Tria, though involved, lacked the required qualifications. In this scenario, the term “priest” encompassed both male priests and female sisters under the same designation.

In the absence of a qualified manager, another priest would assume oversight of the church. However, the individual most likely to take over had publicly expressed his desire to dismantle the orphanage. His demeanor was so unfeeling that Shin doubted whether he could genuinely be considered a man of faith.

A precedence system existed, prioritizing successors with the closest family or relational connections to the previous manager among those qualified. This was why Tria had chosen to nominate Sister Rashia for the role rather than herself. If Rashia took on the position, it would temporarily resolve the issue.

Shin paid close attention, astonished by Kua’s extensive knowledge on the topic. He had not anticipated that a child could be so aware of such intricate and serious issues.

“But why wouldn’t that cleric want to maintain the orphanage? He belongs to the same church, right?” Shin asked, furrowing his brow. Given Tria’s and Rashia’s efforts, he had thought the church dedicated itself to helping others. However, the actions of the man likely to assume control were clearly unusual.

“We don’t like that man,” Kua stated plainly, her voice tinged with subtle disdain. The children behind her nodded in concurrence.

“What kind of guy is he?” Shin asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“A pig blinded by money,” Kua spat with surprising venom for a child.

“Ah, yeah. That’s sufficient information for me,” Shin said, sighing. If a child could speak about him with such bitterness, it was easy to picture what kind of person he might be. Although Shin recognized the folly of judging someone from a single perspective, it was difficult to view this cleric favorably.

Organizations always seem to have some rot in them, Shin thought, staring off into the distance. As long as humans were involved, no world could completely escape such flaws.

“So, for Rashia to take over, she has to master Purification, huh?” Shin mused aloud. According to Els from the guild, the Purification skill was exceptionally significant for clerics.

“But it’s okay because Shin-nii will help her,” Millie chimed in confidently, her voice filled with unwavering faith.

“This isn’t something I can guarantee,” Shin replied, gently tempering her enthusiasm. While Millie’s confidence was endearing, Shin understood that this situation wasn’t one he could resolve on his own. Rashia would need to learn the skill through proper methods, without resorting to shortcuts like a Secret Scroll. Her success would depend entirely on her own efforts.

The choice to avoid a Secret Scroll was intentional. Shin had yet to grasp its true importance in this world and aimed to train Rashia, helping her learn how to face challenges. Kua had indicated that simply mastering Purification wouldn’t solve all the church’s problems. The circumstances seemed ripe for further conflict.

Naturally, Shin mused sarcastically, if Wilhelm went on a rampage, it could settle matters swiftly.

“But if Millie-chan believes it’ll be fine, perhaps it truly will be,” Kua whispered, her voice laced with a blend of hope and doubt.

Hearing her quiet comment, Shin tilted his head, curious.

“Does Millie usually get things right when she says something?” Shin asked.

“Yeah! Though she only tells us things sometimes, like which shop has cheap stuff or where snacks are hidden,” Kua replied cheerfully.

“Wait, hold on, that seems a bit off,” Shin murmured, slightly caught off guard by the surprising response. He had feared that Millie’s keen insight might attract odd looks from others, but the ordinary quality of her “predictions” left him feeling at ease. It appeared that Millie was very discerning about what she disclosed and to whom.

“Strange?” Millie asked, tilting her head as she looked up at Shin.

“Not strange, no. If anything, that’s probably a good thing,” Shin replied, nodding. If Millie were only revealing harmless things, she wouldn’t stand out too much, just like a kid with a good memory.

He suspected her maturity stemmed from the abilities granted by her Star Reader, which likely allowed her to see and understand far more than most children her age.

“What’s important is that you’re not pushing yourself too hard,” Shin said softly. He extended his hand to gently pat Millie’s head. Initially, she appeared confused by the action, but her face soon relaxed and softened as she responded to his touch.

“I enjoy being patted,” Millie whispered, her tone serene and soft.

Her enjoyment of Shin’s affection drew the gaze of several nearby beast children, who observed the scene with open envy, or at least, that was what Shin believed.

Part 5

Millie acted as a connector, allowing Shin to spend hours bonding and playing with the children. When Tria returned to the orphanage, most of the younger kids had already fallen asleep, and only a handful of the older ones were awake.

“Thank you for looking after them; I truly appreciate—” Tria’s voice trailed off when she saw the children sleeping soundly. Her shoulders slumped, and the tension she had been holding began to fade away. She had likely felt anxious about asking Shin, whom they had just met, to care for the children.

“It seems they’ve already come to trust you,” Tria said softly.

“I hope that’s the case,” Shin replied modestly.

Behind Tria stood a young girl named Rashia, who had been introduced earlier. Her ash-gray hair was styled in a chignon, reminiscent of Tria’s. While her brown eyes were fixed on Shin, her rigid posture betrayed the same nervousness Kua had shown earlier.

“You must be Rashia,” Shin greeted with a warm nod.

“Y-Yes! It’s an honor to meet you, and I’m excited to collaborate— Ah, ow!” Rashia exclaimed suddenly, having accidentally bitten her tongue during her speech.

“Um, are you all right?” Shin asked, his concern genuine.

“She can be a bit clumsy at times,” Tria said with a wry smile, stepping in to reassure Shin. “But I can guarantee she’s a hard worker.”

“I-I’m so sorry for making such a poor first impression…” Rashia stammered, visibly flustered.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep things relaxed,” Shin said, waving off her concerns with a kind smile. “I’m Shin, an adventurer. I’ll be guiding you in mastering the Purification skill. However, whether you succeed or not will depend entirely on your own efforts. Please don’t forget that.”

“Absolutely!” Rashia responded with conviction this time, her eyes gleaming with resolve.

“Well then, let’s get into the details,” Shin began. “First, do you know of any places where a large number of high-level undead monsters tend to appear? If not, I’ll check with the guild to find one.”

Such a location was essential to acquiring the Purification skill, as its effectiveness hinged on the environment.

“The most well-known location would probably be the Wraith Plains,” Tria suggested.

“The Wraith Plains?” Shin repeated, tilting his head at the unfamiliar name.

“Yes. It’s a plain to the north of the royal capital. Apparently, it was once the site of a dungeon, but a natural disaster exposed part of it to the surface. As a result, undead monsters now roam the area freely,” Tria explained.

“A dungeon that reached the surface? Is that even possible?” Shin asked, intrigued.

“There are similar cases elsewhere, but I’m not familiar with the details,” Tria admitted.

“Well, since our goal is to find undead monsters, this location seems perfect for our needs,” Shin said. While it felt a little too convenient, he decided not to question his luck. He thought it better to view this as a stroke of good fortune that saved them the trouble of searching for such a place. From the way Tria described the situation, time didn’t seem to be on their side, so the sooner they acted, the better.

“So, how long will it take to reach the Wraith Plains?” Shin asked, turning his attention back to Tria.

“Surely it can’t take that long…”

“Five or six days by carriage,” interrupted Wilhelm, who appeared at the entrance, cutting off Tria mid-sentence. In his hand, he held the cursed spear Venom, his combat aura quietly radiating around him.

“Oh, Wilhelm. You’ve returned?” Tria greeted him with calmness.

“Yo, just stopping by,” Wilhelm replied casually. “So, you’re the one who took on the request, huh?” Wilhelm remarked, examining Shin. Though he seemed composed, Shin could feel the underlying tension in his posture, indicative of a battle-ready stance.

“Absolutely. Given that I’ve already been compensated, you can trust me with the Purification training,” Shin responded, maintaining a calm tone.

“What did you hear?” Wilhelm inquired, narrowing his eyes. It was clear he recognized that Shin’s “payment” went beyond mere money or possessions. His expression conveyed a strong message, silently cautioning, “Don’t lie to me.”

Shin took a moment before responding, “It’s about Millie’s Gift and the power it possesses. Also, former residents of the orphanage who are now adventurers are aiding in preventing any information from leaking.”

“You trust people way too easily, don’t you?” Wilhelm said, directing the comment at Tria. Looking at the orphanage's members, it was clear who had made the arrangements.

Shin couldn’t envision Rashia negotiating this, so it was reasonable that Tria had managed it.

“It’s fine. He doesn’t seem like a bad person. Plus, Millie said it would be okay,” Tria replied confidently.

Wilhelm’s expression changed as he faced Millie, disbelief flickering in his eyes. “You saw it?”

“Yep,” Millie replied simply.

“I see,” Wilhelm replied after a moment’s hesitation, his tone softer now. He appeared to be somewhat reassured.

“So, has everything been settled?” Shin asked, glancing between the two.

“Yeah. If Millie thinks it’s okay, then I’ll trust you,” Wilhelm responded, though he still held some doubts.

Faced with this unexpected acceptance, Shin could only shrug his shoulders.

“Don’t worry. I have no plans to share what I’ve learned or misuse Millie’s power,” Shin assured him.

“You’d better not. If you try anything, I’ll drain the life out of you with this,” Wilhelm warned, raising Venom slightly for emphasis.

Wilhelm swung Venom with a carefree demeanor, almost playfully, yet the intensity in his eyes revealed a stark contrast; they were filled with deadly seriousness. The charged atmosphere suggested that the spear might be unleashed at any moment.

“No fighting! Bad!” Millie interjected, sensing the tense atmosphere as she stepped in to mediate.

“Whoops,” Wilhelm muttered, pulling back.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue, but reined in the combat aura he had been emitting, signaling that he had no intention of escalating further.

Millie scolded lightly, “Wil-nii, you’re so impatient.”

“Sorry about that. I’ve always been short-tempered,” Wilhelm admitted sheepishly.

“Wilhelm just doesn’t know how to be patient,” Tria and Rashia chimed in, subtly trying to smooth things over, or so it seemed. Their tone sounded more like a pointed critique than a defense.

“Sounds like they’re calling you out,” Shin teased.

“Damn you guys,” Wilhelm growled, but Tria and Rashia remained unfazed by his intense combat aura, prompting Shin to wonder if they could truly be deemed “ordinary.”

“Fine. Since you’ve heard plenty from our side, I’ll take some info on Purification from you,” Wilhelm said, seemingly shifting gears.

“Not a word to anyone,” Shin warned.

“Relax. Leaking secrets about the church’s sacred arts would be a death sentence,” Wilhelm replied, prompting the others to nod in agreement.

It seemed the church was an even more powerful organization than Shin had imagined.

“To be safe, let me cast an anti-eavesdropping spell first… All right, let’s get to it. To acquire Purification, you need an item called the Sacred Orb of Prayer and must defeat two hundred undead monsters at level 150 or higher. You don’t need to fight them solo; just landing the finishing blow counts. So, I’ll weaken them, and Rashia-san can take them down repeatedly.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Even Wilhelm couldn’t conceal his shock at the explanation.

“I’m serious,” Shin replied calmly. “The real challenge is usually obtaining the Sacred Orb of Prayer, but since I already have it, we can skip that step.”

Shin stated it so nonchalantly that it caught Wilhelm completely off guard.

In contrast, Rashia sat in a stupor, appearing as though her soul had departed her body.

“Hey, Rashia!” Wilhelm called sharply.

“Y-Yes!” she yelped, snapped back to attention.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wilhelm muttered, shaking her gently by the shoulders to bring her back to her senses. With no other options, it was clear she had to step up and see this through.

“Hey, Shin. This time, I’ll join you,” Wilhelm stated confidently.

Shin replied casually, “Yeah, that’s fine. It’ll probably make things easier for her to have someone she knows around.”

If anything, Shin thought, being alone with me would likely worsen things for her. Given Rashia’s fragile state, Shin couldn’t blame her.

Observing her reaction, Shin realized just how challenging the trial he had described was. Even for seasoned adventurers, it would be overwhelming to accomplish. He caught himself slipping into the mindset of his gaming days, mentally reminding himself to tread carefully in this world.

“Rashia, do your best,” Tria encouraged warmly.

“Yes, I’ll do my best!” Rashia responded, her voice steady now.

While Shin was lost in thought, Rashia appeared to have regained her composure. If she was to shoulder the future of the church, she had no choice but to rise to this challenge.

After Rashia resolved herself, they discussed the finer details of their plan before wrapping up the meeting.

With everyone agreeing that the sooner, the better, they decided to depart the following morning, giving them time to prepare for the journey. The rendezvous point was set at the east gate.

Part 6

After Shin left the church, the other members began preparing for the following day.

Rashia and Tria occupied themselves with packing while also entertaining the children.

Wilhelm, on the other hand, went out to purchase food and supplies for the journey. As he walked along the main street gathering what was needed, he also reached out to trustworthy adventurers with ties to the orphanage. There was a chance the cleric attempting to shut down the orphanage might make a move in his absence, so precautions were needed.

Even among the adventurers from the orphanage, only a select few were aware of Millie’s powers. Since Wilhelm expected to be away for an extended period, he knew he needed to warn each of them to remain vigilant.

Despite his efficient progress through tasks, Wilhelm repeatedly found his thoughts drifting back to one person—Shin.

The first time he’d met Shin was at a beloved restaurant, where they’d happened to share a table.

Wilhelm had been surprised when Shin, despite being a rookie adventurer, had spoken to him so casually, even in the presence of Venom. When they met again at the orphanage, Wilhelm had recognized him immediately.

When Wilhelm learned that Tria had revealed Millie’s powers to Shin, he’d initially thought her trust was reckless. However, Millie had firmly declared, “It’s fine.” That assurance was enough for Wilhelm to tentatively accept it.

Moreover, Millie had assured him that she’d seen it.

She hadn’t elaborated on what she had seen, but at the very least, Wilhelm felt confident that Shin wasn’t a threat. Millie wouldn’t have vouched for him otherwise.

Nevertheless, Shin remained an enigma. The more Wilhelm pondered it, the odder things appeared.

For instance, when Shin first saw Venom, he’d asked if Wilhelm had appraised it and had even so far as to inquire about the skill level of the appraiser. Reflecting on it now, Wilhelm recalled that Shin’s expression at the time had seemed to convey, “That won’t cut it.”

Then there were the conditions Shin had outlined for obtaining Purification: defeating over two hundred undead monsters at level 150 or higher. Shin had casually added that Rashia only needed to deliver the final blows while he weakened the monsters.

Wilhelm understood that Shin had not expected his assistance to be included in their combat team.

If Shin’s words weren’t an exaggeration, it meant he had the strength to handle level 150 monsters on his own, even while taking care of someone inexperienced like Rashia.

Is he really just a rookie adventurer? Wilhelm wondered.

When they first met, Shin had spoken as though he had prior combat experience before becoming an adventurer. If his abilities were that exceptional, there should have been rumors about him.

Even without being an adventurer, news of someone with such talent would circulate rapidly. However, even after Wilhelm consulted information brokers linked to the orphanage, there’d been no mention of anyone like Shin.

Anyone who could take on level 150 monsters alone would rank at least B, possibly even A, among adventurers.

How could someone like that remain entirely unknown?

Could it be…?

Wilhelm stopped in his tracks, the realization striking him like a bolt of lightning. A single word surfaced in his mind—a word known only to a select few.

It referred to entities with exceptional power, capabilities that exceeded normal understanding.

Those who were born with a variety of skills and knowledge, individuals who transcended the conventional concept of levels, were collectively known as the Chosen Ones.

It was a term closely tied to Wilhelm himself.

“Could he be… a Chosen One?” Wilhelm muttered under his breath. His words were swallowed by the bustling noise of the city, unheard by anyone.

The following morning, Shin hastily finished his breakfast and told Tsugumi, the innkeeper’s daughter, that he would be leaving the royal capital temporarily. He settled his bill and pocketed the remaining balance from the prepaid amount.

With all his belongings stored in his item box, he didn’t need to pack, which made his departure swift, though not immediate. Tsugumi had refused to let go of Yuzuha, delaying him.

She moved like a hunter stalking its prey, making Shin wonder if it had something to do with her surname, Bear.

As usual, with Yuzuha sitting on his head, Shin strolled through the quieter streets. With the midday crowds missing, he made it to the east gate’s meeting point more quickly than he had anticipated. Believing he might be too early, Shin was surprised to find someone already waiting.

“Yo,” Wilhelm greeted him casually.

“Good morning. You’re early,” Shin replied, his tone revealing his surprise at Wilhelm being the first to arrive.

In this city, people kept time by the bells that rang at set intervals, which often made arranging meetups difficult. Consequently, one party frequently found themselves waiting for the other.

Although merchants frequently carried pocket watches, adventurers were generally more relaxed about such items. Tsugumi and Douma had informed him that it was not unusual for people to arrive at the very last moment.

Thanks to the game system embedded in Shin’s perception, he knew the exact time and realized there were still twenty minutes before their meeting. He had left too early and was beginning to regret it.

“Are you always this early?” Shin asked.

“Nah. I wanted to check something before we head out. Come here for a sec,” Wilhelm replied, motioning him closer.

Shin trailed behind Wilhelm, puzzled by the unusually grave expression he wore. Curiosity gnawed at him as he speculated about the unfolding situation. Meanwhile, Yuzuha lounged comfortably on Shin’s head, completely at ease, seemingly oblivious to any threat.

“By the way, where’s Rashia?” Shin asked.

“I assigned her a minor task. There’s no need for her presence,” Wilhelm responded tersely.

It seemed Wilhelm preferred that Rashia not overhear this conversation.

After walking for a few minutes, Wilhelm paused before a particular establishment. Based on the sign, it seemed to be a dining venue. The logo featured a glass and a spoon, but the nature of the food or drink offered remained unclear.

Wilhelm knocked on the door three times at steady intervals before opening it.

The interior was softly illuminated, providing sufficient light to navigate without tripping. Shin’s gaze swiftly absorbed the layout: three tables, five counter stools, a neat row of liquor bottles behind the bar, and a bartender carefully polishing glasses.

It seemed to be a tavern.

“Sorry, but I’m borrowing the place,” Wilhelm said casually.

The bartender nodded silently, walked to a door behind the counter, and exited without saying a word.

Although the bartender had likely noticed Yuzuha sitting on Shin’s head, he’d said nothing about it. Shin had half-expected to be refused service for hygiene reasons, but it seemed such issues weren’t a priority in this world.

“An acquaintance of yours?” Shin inquired.

“Yeah. Orphanage connection. You’ve heard about folks like that from Tria, haven’t you?” Wilhelm replied.

“Yeah. So, does that mean he’s an adventurer too?”

“Exactly.”

Believing it was awkward to remain standing, the two decided to sit at the counter.

Suddenly, Wilhelm cut straight to the point.

“I need to confirm something. Are you a Chosen One?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shin asked, tilting his head in confusion.

He had never encountered that term before. The brief pause in his reply stemmed from his mental search to determine whether it referred to a title or a gift he had missed. However, nothing surfaced in his thoughts.

“You don’t know?” Wilhelm asked, his gaze scrutinizing Shin closely.

“Yeah, not a clue,” Shin replied frankly.

“…”

Wilhelm, carefully observing Shin’s demeanor, remained silent for a moment before finally beginning to speak.

“A Chosen One refers to individuals who are born with skills, titles, gifts, or knowledge they shouldn’t otherwise possess. Sometimes, they possess power that doesn’t align with their level.”

Shin couldn’t help but imagine the strange scenarios he had read about in reincarnation-themed web novels, like infants capable of advanced thought or speaking complex sentences despite their age.

In the game world, children could activate skills, so he asked, half-joking but also curious, “You don’t mean to tell me babies start talking or casting magic right away, do you?”

“I’ve come across stories like that. There are tales of five- or six-year-old children defeating Tetra Grizzlies with their bare hands, or unexpectedly employing secret skills once believed forgotten. Such discussions seem never-ending.”

“So, basically, they’re born strong. Sounds like they’d get called monsters.”

These abilities appeared inherently linked to one’s birth, yet having skills or knowledge from the beginning was rare enough that such individuals were viewed as Chosen Ones by the inhabitants of this world.

“When you say knowledge, does that include memories of a previous life?” Shin asked.

“No. It’s mostly information about items or monsters. I’ve never heard of someone remembering anything about their past self.”

“Got it.”

As Wilhelm’s explanation continued, a possibility began to take shape in Shin’s mind. There were still inconsistencies, but it was plausible enough to warrant consideration.

Multiple skills from the start, holding gifts, possessing high abilities… Could it be that the “Reincarnation System” is still functioning?

In The New Gate, reincarnation was a feature performed through a temple. However, if it were happening in real life, it would make sense that one might start over as a newborn. That could lead to being born into an ordinary family somewhere.

Reincarnation offered many perks, such as inheriting Titles and Gifts, gaining skills, and receiving status bonuses. Although there were contradictions that Shin couldn’t overlook, this theory appeared to be the most likely explanation for him.

However, the temple's location was now a danger zone teeming with monsters, making it nearly impossible to investigate.

“Do you have any leads?” Wilhelm asked.

“Yes and no,” Shin replied, his answer vague and hesitant.

Although Shin had experienced reincarnation in the game, it wasn’t the same as being reborn as an infant in this world. Nevertheless, to the people of this realm, Shin’s skills could only be seen as those of a Chosen One.

Moreover, Shin was registered as a human in the guild, preventing him from using the excuse that his abilities stemmed from being part of a long-lived race.

Even if he told the truth, there was no guarantee he’d be believed. Even if they did believe him, it would only complicate matters. After all, high humans were supposed to be extinct.

“Roundabout, aren’t you? Well, whatever. I’m not here to make you spill everything. Everyone’s got things they don’t want to talk about,” Wilhelm said with a shrug.

“Thanks. That helps,” Shin replied, genuinely relieved.

“You don’t seem to get it, though,” Wilhelm continued, his tone sharpening. “Taking on level 150 monsters solo, that’s the work of a high-ranking adventurer. You, a Rank G, shouldn’t be talking about it like it’s no big deal.”

“Now that you mention it… Yeah, that does sound bad. Oops!” Shin laughed awkwardly, scratching his head.

His casual response concealed his inner unease. Shin knew very well that in a world where level was the primary metric for ability, his judgment based on stats often seemed out of touch. Although he’d thought he had been careful, he had slipped up once more.

Shin had resolved to watch himself more closely after seeing Rashia’s reaction to Purification, but here he was, making the same mistake. Then again, it was challenging to fully grasp the standards of this world when he’d only been here for a short time.

In many respects, this world was more unforgiving than the game itself. A few days were insufficient to completely adjust to its values and norms.

“The name Chosen One isn’t well-known, either,” Wilhelm warned. “People with power tend to attract trouble. Better to be cautious.”

“It’s probably too late for that,” Shin muttered dryly.

“You fought the guild master and won, didn’t you? Then there’s the report about you taking down a King-class Skullface. Not to mention, you just recently wiped out a mixed group of Pawn- and Jack-class Skullfaces, three digits’ worth of them, all on your own.”

“I don’t even know where to start with that. What the hell is with this ridiculously intense resume?” Wilhelm said, exasperated.

“Not like I planned for all that to happen,” Shin replied defensively. “I’m not exactly going around sticking my nose into trouble on purpose, you know.”

Granted, Shin had approached the unique monster Skullface of his own accord. However, the battle with Balrux had resulted from the letter of introduction to the Moon Sanctum. Meanwhile, the massive group of Skullfaces had appeared just as Shin had been trying to time his intervention to save Yuzuha. In particular, leaving the Skullfaces unchecked was not an option.

“Damn it, I figured you’d gotten into something, but this is no joke. Seriously, watch yourself. Chosen Ones tend to be respected for their abilities, but as you said earlier, in the wrong place, they can end up being treated as outcasts.”

“That’s only natural, I suppose,” Shin said with a shrug.

“There are even people who claim Chosen Ones are the subjects of divine prophecy… Their abilities don’t always increase as they grow, and their circumstances vary widely. Most of the time, though, Chosen Ones are under the protection of the church or the state, so it’s not usually a huge problem.”

“Good to know. But here’s something I’m curious about: how many Chosen Ones does a single country typically have?” Shin asked.

If Chosen Ones were indeed individuals who underwent repeated reincarnation, as Shin suspected, it was entirely possible for one of them to destroy a nation. Knowing their numbers seemed crucial.

“It differs by country. If you believe the published information, this nation has four Chosen Ones, including the guild master. In general, neighboring countries have one or none. Regarding the power dynamics between nations, it’s challenging to determine. There is considerable variation in the individual strengths of the Chosen Ones, and not all are skilled in combat.” Wilhelm clarified. “This variability complicates the assessment of which nation is dominant. In terms of sheer combat strength, Bayrelitch leads the pack. However, if they adopt a highly aggressive stance, neighboring nations would likely unite against them. Regardless of a Chosen One’s strength, they cannot eliminate an entire army on their own. Currently, the situation is fairly balanced. Naturally, it’s an open secret that each nation has hidden Chosen Ones as contingency plans.”

“Figures no country would openly reveal their trump cards,” Shin said with a nod. “Still, even Chosen Ones can’t annihilate entire armies? What’s the upper limit for the strongest ones?”

“As far as I know, the strongest in our country are the First and Second Princesses. The First excels in magic, while the Second specializes in close combat. The First Princess can launch wide-scale magical attacks and take on thousands at a time, but if enemies get too close, she’s done for. The Second Princess depends on enemy tactics; if she’s bombarded with long-range magic, she’s in trouble. Even among combat-specialized Chosen Ones, individual capabilities vary a lot. That said, the royal pair from Bayrelitch is definitely among the top tier.”

Listening to Wilhelm’s explanation, Shin started estimating the approximate abilities of the Chosen Ones.

Ordinary soldiers without the advantages of a reincarnation system can’t push their stats beyond 300, even at their maximum level. Equipment can naturally raise those limits, but even then, having multiple stats reach 300 should be rare.

Given this, along with the fact that humans have higher magic resistance than other races, the First Princess’s INT must be over 500 to handle thousands of enemies at once. Her MP would also need to be significant. Combined with her ability to use magic that can attack multiple targets simultaneously, her capabilities are extraordinary in this world.

As for the Second Princess, she likely has high HP, with STR, VIT, or AGI nearing 500. Shin couldn’t help but smirk at how well the two fit into the archetypes of a magic user and a warrior.

“They are surprisingly simple to grasp. If you combined them, they would be nearly unstoppable, right?” Shin commented.

The First Princess could eliminate enemies with magic, while the Second Princess handled anyone who approached. With both of them being one-person armies, the results on the battlefield would be extraordinary.

“That’s true,” Wilhelm agreed. “But no matter how good a pair they are, it’s still just the two of them. If an enemy Chosen One appeared to counter them, the outcome would depend on the strength of the regular troops. Since every country is in the same position, it keeps things in a stalemate.”

“Got it.”

In other words, Chosen Ones with exceptional abilities probably didn’t differ much in their stats.

Though unconfirmed, Shin speculated that Chosen Ones, whom he defined as reincarnators, generally had stats hovering around 500.

Reflecting on this, Shin considered Schnee. With all her stats exceeding 800, it was no wonder she was frequently the target of assassination attempts. Depending on her current weapon, her STR could even approach 900 with the additional equipment bonuses.

If she could employ the wide-area annihilation magic that Shin had instructed her in, she might be capable of single-handedly destroying tens of thousands. Should she ever serve a specific nation, it would be easy to envision her swiftly conquering neighboring countries.

Now that I think about it, neither Els nor Celica ever asked me about Chosen Ones.

As a member of the guild staff, they should have been aware of the Chosen Ones and displayed greater interest. However, Wilhelm’s tone suggested that such knowledge was likely reserved for higher-ranking staff or adventurers. On the other hand, the significance of breaking Tiera’s curse and defeating the Skullface may have simply eclipsed everything else.

“Thanks for the warning. Even if it’s already too late, I’ll try to be more careful,” Shin said.

“Make sure you do,” Wilhelm said roughly.

“Still, Wilhelm, you have an unexpected talent for looking out for others. Are people truly that afraid of you?” Shin queried, sharing a thought he had been contemplating. The perception he had gathered about Wilhelm from others didn’t align with the individual seated before him.

Wilhelm seemed intentionally aloof, as if he aimed to create a negative impression.

“People can think whatever they want. Not my problem,” Wilhelm said bluntly.

“But you protect the orphanage. Wouldn’t that make you more of a hero?” Shin countered.

“It’s just because the others are so dedicated. Ever since the priest, Rashia’s grandfather, kicked the bucket, some greedy pig has been poking his snout where it doesn’t belong. That’s why the kids end up crying. And let me tell you, kids’ crying is a pain in the ass,” Wilhelm said, scowling.

Yet, because of the sense of incongruity Shin had noticed earlier, it felt less like Wilhelm was irritated by the crying itself and more like he was angry at the situation that caused it—or perhaps the person behind it.

“So, you just shut those troublemakers up?” Shin asked.

“Exactly. But lately, who knows what’s going through their heads? The kids have started worrying about weird stuff, too. They should eat, sleep, and run around like kids are supposed to,” Wilhelm said, his tone brusque.

Wow, this guy’s actually a good person.

In essence, Wilhelm believed children should enjoy their childhood freely, without burdens, and anyone who made them cry deserved no mercy. He was, in Shin’s eyes, a truly dependable “big brother.”

“Come on, you’re not being very honest, are you?” Shin asked, struggling to hide his grin.

“?” Wilhelm tilted his head, confused.

“Oh, nothing,” Shin replied, brushing it off. “By the way, something’s been bothering me. If that greedy pig can interfere with the church’s inheritance, does that mean he can use Purification, too?”

Shin straightened his expression, determined to confirm something that had been on his mind. While the man in question was certainly detestable, if he had managed to acquire Purification on his own, he couldn’t be underestimated. A pig that could fight wasn’t just a pig.

“Damn it, as much as I hate to admit it, the bastard does seem to have it. That said, his combat ability is, frankly, pathetic. There’s no way he could have obtained it using the method you described yesterday. His level makes it impossible,” Wilhelm stated firmly.

“Do you know his exact level?” Shin asked.

“Word is he’s level 40.”

“I see. Yeah, that rules it out. In that case, the most likely explanation is a Secret Scroll.”

It was now evident that the man had gained the skill from an item rather than through personal effort. It didn’t add up for him to possess Purification at such a low level. While it might be plausible if he were a reincarnator, a Chosen One in this world, Wilhelm’s descriptions implied that this was unlikely.

“The church is full of secrets, so it wouldn’t be surprising if they had something like that. Actually, they almost certainly do. I’ve heard that all the high-ranking clerics at the headquarters are skill inheritors,” Wilhelm said, his tone tinged with irritation.

“And yet they let a small fry like that pig run loose. Either they’re bad at judging people, or it’s all about the money… Definitely the latter,” Shin replied.

It was unlikely that all leaders had poor judgment. Many possibilities came to mind, but money remained the most straightforward explanation.

“There was a moment when I thought you might’ve been working for that bastard,” Wilhelm said bluntly.

“Fair enough,” Shin admitted.

An adventurer appearing at this exact moment, just when the Purification skill was needed, would naturally raise suspicions. Without Millie’s intervention, things could have turned out very differently.

“When Millie talks about what she sees, it’s usually for a reason. That’s why I figured you must have some connection to all this,” Wilhelm said, his expression softening slightly.

“Interesting. So, who else has Millie spoken to about what she’s seen?” Shin asked, genuinely curious.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well, she talked to me, didn’t she?”

“Fair enough… I can’t give you all the details, but let’s see… There was a black dragnil, a blonde pixie, and a silver-haired elf.”

“Hmm,” Shin said, nodding thoughtfully. As he considered the description, he recognized that mix of people.

A black dragnil, a blonde pixie, and a silver-haired elf… That combination sounds familiar. If it were just one, it wouldn’t stand out; but all three together?

Even with some pieces absent, Shin couldn’t dismiss the feeling that it could be those guys.

“Hey, the silver-haired elf, was it Schnee Raizar?” Shin asked.

“Huh? Why do you think that?” Wilhelm replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a hunch… That’s all I can call it, but it feels like it.”

“A hunch, huh?”

Shin looked straight into Wilhelm’s inquisitive eyes. “May I inquire what she mentioned back then?”

“She said, ‘He’ll be back soon.’ No idea what it means, though,” Wilhelm replied after a pause.

“I see.”

“Got any leads?”

“Not really, no.”

“You sure about that? You’ve got this oddly convinced look on your face for someone who doesn’t know anything.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure how to explain it…” Shin muttered, unable to deny Wilhelm’s observation.

He was taken aback that Wilhelm had shared the conversation at all, yet Shin could not confess that it might pertain to him. Nevertheless, the thought that Millie could have foreseen his arrival remained in his mind.

“Uh, well…” Shin started, attempting to shift the subject when something in his peripheral vision attracted his attention—a flashing message.

“What should we do now?” Wilhelm inquired, observing Shin’s distraction.

“Wait a second,” Shin said, lifting a hand to stop the conversation. He read the message.

To Shin,

I’ve received a response from Master.

She had a lot of questions, so I told her everything I could for now.

She said she’ll wrap up her work as soon as possible and hurry back.

If you plan to leave Bayrelitch, please let me know.

P.S. She asked so many questions that it was a little scary. What did you do to her?

“…”

Shin quickly replied, curious about how many questions it took to frighten Tiera. Was it the silence of five hundred years that unnerved her? A twinge of concern hit him, yet he realized there was little he could do at this moment. Instead, he chose to prioritize meeting her in person to uncover the truth.

Just as he was about to close the menu with a wry smile, something caught his eye in the Valuable Items section. Intrigued, he opened it and spotted the letter of introduction from the Moon Sanctum, glowing silver.

“Huh? Ah!”

As he pondered the source of the glow, a memory of his encounter with Balrux came to mind. Balrux had explained that two letters of introduction would resonate with magic, validating their authenticity.

“So that means…”

Shin took out the letter in its card form. To hide its identity, he covered the illustration with his hand, just in case. Even in this form, the letter radiated a silver glow.

“This is…”

“Hey. That thing you’ve got, is it a letter of introduction from the Moon Sanctum?”

Shin froze mid-thought as Wilhelm’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

How does he know? Shin thought, about to ask, when it hit him. IfWilhelm knows about the glow, then…

“You… have one too?” Shin asked.

“So that glowing object truly is a letter of introduction!” Wilhelm exclaimed, his expression a blend of astonishment and skepticism as he reached into thin air and retrieved a card.

Like Shin’s, Wilhelm’s card shone with silver light as well.

“Could it be?” Shin said cautiously.

“It’s exactly what you think,” Wilhelm replied grimly.

The two locked eyes, an indescribable tension filling the air between them.

Part 7

After taking a moment to reflect, the two regained their composure and revealed their cards, carefully confirming their authenticity.

“So, you’re a letter holder too, huh?” Wilhelm said.

“That makes two of us,” Shin replied with a wry smile, noting Wilhelm’s slightly deflated tone.

Despite Millie vouching for him, Shin assumed Wilhelm still harbored some level of caution toward him. Wilhelm approached Shin with a baseline of suspicion, thinking, He’s not likely to misuse his power, but…

Nevertheless, holding the letters completely erased any remaining doubts between them.

“There’s nothing more convincing than this. No wonder you guessed Schnee Raizar,” Wilhelm admitted.

“In my case, I got it from Tiera,” Shin explained. “Did you get yours from Schnee?”

“Yeah. She gave it to me after she trained me a bit. Not that it was much of a ‘training.’ She just beat the crap out of me.”

“Ah… yeah, that sounds like her. She’s pretty serious about that kind of thing.”

Although Shin had developed Schnee’s character, he’d only provided a vague outline of her personality. He had not introduced any specific changes, so he anticipated some differences between the Schnee in the game and her counterpart in this world. However, from Wilhelm’s description, she appeared to be nearly identical.

Although Schnee didn’t have AI sophisticated enough to replicate human actions, Wilhelm’s narratives created a depiction strikingly close to Shin’s anticipations.

“Well, we’d better get moving, or Rashia will catch up to us. We can continue this on the way,” Wilhelm said, glancing at the clock on the wall before standing up.

“Time flies, huh?” Shin replied, following his lead.

Although they hadn’t intended to stay long, the unexpected find of their shared letters had extended the discussion. Nevertheless, Shin believed the time had been worthwhile, considering the valuable insights they had acquired.

Letter holders were believed to possess exceptional skills, though only a handful were unstable. Keeping this in mind, Shin felt optimistic that all of the church’s numerous issues could be addressed quickly.

As they left, Shin glanced at Wilhelm, his mind occupied by a question now that trust had been built between them.

“By the way, now that we’ve confirmed we can trust each other, I’ve got to ask, Wilhelm, you’re a Chosen One too, aren’t you?”

“I’m not planning to hide it at this point, but why do you think so? Not all A-rank adventurers are Chosen Ones, you know,” Wilhelm said, his tone probing.

“Well, it’s your weapon,” Shin replied. “Ordinary people can’t equip it; they get rejected outright. The fact that you can wield it normally makes it pretty obvious that you’re not just anyone.”

“Hah! So that’s it. No wonder you were so curious about appraisals and skill levels. You already knew what that thing was from the start, didn’t you?”

Wilhelm’s weapon was the legendary-grade magic spear Venom, an artifact requiring a minimum STR of 500 to equip. When Shin had first met Wilhelm, his focus on the spear had been precisely because of its unique properties.

Usually, legendary-class equipment required stats in the 350 range. In contrast, Venom’s requirements were unusually elevated. This was not a glitch; rather, it was a deliberate design choice with a clear rationale.

“I couldn’t exactly bring it up in front of a crowd,” Shin explained. “By the way, earlier you pulled that card out of nowhere. Does that mean you can use an item box? I heard only a few people can.”

“Oh, that? It’s more of a workaround,” Wilhelm replied. “Using an item called an Expansion Kit, you can get something like an item box. The capacity isn’t huge, and it doesn’t work for everyone, but it gets the job done.”

“Interesting,” Shin said, nodding. He couldn’t help but think, So that feature still exists.

In the game, the Expansion Kit had been created to allow support characters and partner monsters to carry substantial quantities of items. Over time, their storage limits could be enhanced to nearly equal those of players. Consequently, most players had used one or two kits to ensure their support characters had enough items for emergencies, such as healing potions.

Shin, on the other hand, had fully utilized the storage capacity of all his support characters, not out of necessity, but simply as a personal quirk.

“Well, you’re using an item box yourself, aren’t you?” Wilhelm pointed out.

“Yeah, but I’ve been able to use mine from the start,” Shin replied.

“See? You really are a Chosen One.”

“Ugh… Fine. At this point, let’s go with that.”

Recognizing that Wilhelm appeared satisfied with the response “because you’re a Chosen One” without needing further details, Shin chose to agree. This approach was simpler than inventing complex tales, and it seemed wise to prevent inconsistencies later on.

As they chatted while walking, they retraced their steps to the eastern gate, where Rashia waited, glancing around nervously.

“Hey, Wil! Where were you yesterday? You left all the shopping for me!”

“Sorry, sorry. I had some errands to take care of,” Wilhelm replied, raising a hand in mock surrender.

“Errands? You weren’t off sneaking into some shady place again, were you?”

“Of course not! Are you still half-asleep?”

“Shin-san, don’t let Wil drag you along to who-knows-where, okay? Honestly, he needs to learn a lesson the hard way!” she exclaimed.

“Listen to me! Stop saying things that give people the wrong idea!” Wilhelm barked.

“All right, you two, calm down,” Shin interjected, managing to defuse their bickering.

As they set off at last, Shin felt a twinge of envy watching how freely they teased and argued with each other. He kept his feelings to himself.

For this trip, they would travel on horseback, using horses that Wilhelm borrowed from the guild.

The guild’s stablemaster presented two magnificent horses with chestnut coats and impressive builds that even Shin, a complete novice regarding horses, could appreciate.

When the horses caught sight of Yuzuha sprawled lazily atop Shin’s head, they froze momentarily. Yuzuha let out a soft “Kuu,” and one of the horses replied with a quiet “Hrr.” After that, they calmed down as if they had reached an understanding. Whatever exchange had just occurred went completely over Shin’s head.

They partnered up, with Wilhelm and Rashia sharing one horse, while Shin and Yuzuha rode the other.

It was Shin’s first time riding a real horse, but thanks to the effects of the Riding skill, he had no trouble at all. In the game, Shin had ridden not only horses but also griffons, dragons, and various other mounts, so his skill level was already quite high.

While the trip was initially expected to last five to six days with a leisurely wagon pace, Shin believed they would reach their destination much sooner given their current speed. Although Shin could easily cover the distance on foot, carrying Rashia in his arms was not feasible, so he chose to keep that to himself.

They made steady progress, stopping occasionally to rest the horses and encountering no significant issues. With two item box holders in the group, their minimal luggage allowed them to cover ground even more efficiently.

Additionally, the array of tools available in their item boxes allowed camping meals that went beyond bland, preserved foods, enabling decent cooking. As a result, even Rashia, not used to traveling, did not seem overly fatigued by the journey.

Over four days, the group strengthened their bond to the extent that they could engage in casual conversation. By midmorning on the fourth day, they arrived at the Wraith Plains.

Even with the sun high in the sky, the plains remained shrouded in dim light. It felt as though an unseen barrier at the forest’s edge was obstructing the sunlight. Upon closer inspection, Shin observed a dense, purple haze ascending from the ground, surrounding the plains like a border.

Even when Shin utilized Analyze, nothing showed up, suggesting that the haze probably didn’t lead to any status abnormalities.

“Touching it doesn’t trigger anything. This must be the boundary,” Shin observed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Wilhelm confirmed. “And here’s another thing, once you cross it, the monsters inside won’t follow you back out. They can only exist within this area.”

“Really?” Shin asked, intrigued.

“I tried pulling one out once. It was daytime, sure, but the monster’s equipment crumbled to dust the moment it left the boundary. No doubt about it.”

“In that case, we’d better make sure we can retreat outside if things go south,” Shin said.

Given Rashia’s presence, they required an emergency escape route. Although Shin and Wilhelm could probably manage most dangers, the monsters ahead represented a serious threat to Rashia.

“Let’s set up a base we can retreat to in a pinch. And here’s the Sacred Orb of Prayer; you’ll need this to make any of this worthwhile. Oh, and this is a bonus; even a dragon’s breath won’t get through it,” Shin said, handing over an item.

“Y-Yes! Thank y— Ow!” Rashia stammered, still tense from the cold air wafting out of the Wraith Plains. Although she had spent much of the journey bickering with Wilhelm, it seemed her nerves had caught up to her despite her efforts to remain relaxed.

The extra item Shin presented was a bracelet-shaped magical tool. It nullified damage up to a specific threshold and significantly reduced any damage beyond it. As a custom item made by Shin, it would withstand even the continuous attacks from a King-class Skullface. Its durability was undeniably dependable.

Although the existing protective measures alleviated some tension, mere words couldn’t fully calm the nerves of someone new to combat. In the end, it was an adjustment Rashia would need to make over time with experience.

Rashia’s informal tone with Wilhelm originated from their childhood friendship, enabling her to express herself freely.

Yuzuha, I’m counting on you.

Shin conveyed a telepathic message to Yuzuha, who was seated on his head. Since establishing their contract, they could communicate telepathically, enabling him to transmit thoughts straight into her mind.

Through this bond, Shin could perceive Yuzuha’s straightforward replies, whether agreement, rejection, or subtle glimpses of her feelings, such as joy or frustration.

After receiving Shin’s request, Yuzuha hopped off his head and perched on Rashia’s shoulder, affectionately rubbing her face against the girl’s cheek.

“W-Wait, Yuu-chan! That tickles!” Rashia exclaimed.

“Kuu,” Yuzuha purred.

“She’s telling you to cheer up,” Shin said.

“Oh… Thank you, Yuu-chan,” Rashia said, her smile softening, albeit still slightly awkward.

“Kuu!” Yuzuha chirped, pleased.

Seeing Rashia’s mood brighten, Shin quietly expressed his thanks to Yuzuha. At that moment, Wilhelm appeared from the bushes, coming back from their earlier separation to prepare the campsite.

“How’s the base coming along?” Shin asked.

“I followed your advice and arranged it around the tent, but… what on earth are those?” Wilhelm pointed toward the woods with a nod. From their position, the setup was hidden, yet beyond the trees, a tent was surrounded by four gemstones, each about ten cemels across. Although the monsters were confined to the plains, Shin ensured the tent was placed at a safe distance.

“They serve as a defensive item. When a monster approaches, they activate a magic attack. Additionally, they can form a barrier to stop monsters from entering. It’s ideal for a quick base, wouldn’t you agree?” Shin clarified.

“Never heard of an item like that before,” Wilhelm muttered, his brow furrowing.

Shin would typically have set up a barrier on his own, but he chose defensive items instead to avoid drawing attention. Even as a Chosen One, showing abilities that exceeded the expected limits could lead to unwanted scrutiny.

Although Shin recognized the Chosen Ones as exceptional, their powers were not infinite. The challenge lay in the ambiguity of their abilities’ boundaries, which posed a risk when attempting to exceed them.

“We’ll just have to chalk it up to ‘because I’m a Chosen One,’ and leave it at that,” Shin said with a shrug.

“What a convenient title,” Wilhelm muttered, shaking his head.

“Wait, Shin-san, are you a Chosen One too?!” Rashia exclaimed, clearly familiar with the term. She must have heard about it from Wilhelm.

“Oh? I hadn’t mentioned it yet?” Shin asked, tilting his head.

“There wasn’t really a good time to bring it up,” Wilhelm admitted with a wry smile.

“So, the two of you being together on the day we left… was that to confirm it?” Rashia asked, her expression tightening in understanding.

“Exactly,” Wilhelm said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You could’ve told me from the beginning!” Rashia pouted, clearly frustrated at being excluded.

“We figured it’d be obvious enough. You must’ve realized how hard the conditions were for anyone who wasn’t incredibly strong,” Wilhelm said, trying to calm her down.

“Well, since you said you could handle it, I thought that was just normal for people like you!” Rashia replied, tilting her head in a blend of confusion and exasperation.

Wilhelm sighed in mild disbelief. “That’s not even remotely normal.”

“But… But the only Chosen One I know is you, Wil! I know you’re strong, but I don’t really know how strong,” Rashia said defensively.

Even if someone understood what it meant to be a Chosen One, it was impossible to truly grasp their power without witnessing it firsthand. Since Wilhelm would never bring Rashia to a battlefield where he fought at full strength, it wasn’t surprising that she didn’t fully understand.

“Hey, I hate to interrupt,” Shin said, finally speaking up after quietly observing their exchange, “but shouldn’t we get started? We don’t exactly have time to dawdle.”

“You’re right. Let’s go. Feeling a bit better now?” Wilhelm asked Rashia.

“Huh? Oh, wait, hold on!” she said, rushing after him.

Shin had waited for the right moment, knowing Wilhelm was trying to ease Rashia’s tension. As he watched them, he couldn’t help but add a playful comment.

“Now then, what’ll pop up first?” Shin said with a grin.

“Throughout the day, you’ll likely encounter Skullfaces, Biohounds, or Mad Zombies,” Wilhelm replied nonchalantly. “Physical monsters tend to appear more frequently in daylight.”

“Given their level range, nighttime seems to be our most promising option. For now, we’ll view this as a warm-up and wrap up after some practice. We’ll begin in earnest once night falls,” Shin said.

“It’s all up to Rashia now. Look, here comes our welcoming committee,” Wilhelm said.

As they stepped before the trembling Rashia, who gripped her staff tightly, Shin and Wilhelm turned their focus to the encroaching shadows. Although the haze reduced visibility, their instincts for danger stayed keen.

Emerging from the mist were two Jack-class Skullfaces and three Biohounds.

The Biohounds, with their bodies partially decomposed and falling apart, forced Rashia to cover her mouth with her hand. The grotesque realism of the creatures, far more vivid than anything in a game, was unsettling even for Shin.

“Not a bad warm-up,” Shin murmured.

“The Biohounds are going to be a pain, though,” Wilhelm grumbled, readying Venom while Shin lowered his stance. Seeing this, Rashia, though still pale, seemed to steel herself. Raising her staff, she began chanting.

The first to move were the Biohounds, charging straight at them with reckless speed. Lacking intelligence, the three beasts barreled forward in a direct line. Shin acted immediately, extending one hand and activating the Divine-type Skill Leaf Purification.

This skill enabled players to create a localized barrier at a specified position.

In front of Shin, a semi-transparent barrier about 1.5 mels in diameter appeared. Unable to stop in time, the Biohounds slammed headfirst into it, their bodies crumpling to the ground with a sickening crunch.

Divine skills often had extra effects against the undead, and defensive abilities were no different.

The Biohounds’ HP dropped to critical levels due to their reckless charge and the barrier’s anti-undead properties. Shin wasted no time exploiting the situation.

As the Biohounds lay sprawled on the ground, Shin dispelled the barrier and gave a command to Rashia.

“Attack the Biohounds!”

“Yes!”

Without hesitation, Rashia finished her chant. A dazzling white light emanated from her staff, enveloping the Biohounds. The skill she used was the Divine Art Heal.

While the divine skill didn’t pack as much punch as other offensive abilities, it was devastatingly effective against undead monsters vulnerable to healing magic. The Biohounds’ remaining HP was erased, and their bodies disintegrated shortly after.

Watching this, Shin confirmed that the rule of “no monster corpses left in dungeons” still applied here. It appeared that the Wraith Plains were regarded as part of a dungeon.

“More incoming!” Wilhelm called out, snapping Shin out of his thoughts about the field’s mechanics. He immediately shifted to a defensive stance.

The two Skullfaces advanced with the clatter of armor, charging straight ahead as the Biohounds had. However, unlike the hounds, they held their shields raised in proper formation.

“Shield Bash, huh?” Shin muttered, evaluating their approach.

“Hey, can your barrier stop that?” Wilhelm asked.

“Don’t worry about it. Once they’re off balance, cut off their arms and legs. You can handle that, can’t you?” Shin said confidently.

In response to Wilhelm’s challenge, Shin activated Leaf Purification once more.

When the barrier appeared, the Skullfaces crashed into it. In contrast to the Biohounds, the Skullfaces used their shields to absorb the impact without sustaining any damage. However, they seemed unprepared for the Shield Bash to be thwarted. They lost their footing, stumbling back in confusion.

The moment Shin dispelled the barrier, Wilhelm darted forward with Venom at the ready, leaping into the gap between the two staggering monsters.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Take this!” Wilhelm roared.

With a sweeping motion, he executed the Spearmanship-style Martial Art Blossoming Flash. The attack sliced through the air, breaking the legs of both Skullfaces and creating a deep crimson trail behind it.

Wilhelm’s assault didn’t stop there. He seamlessly transitioned his swing into a spin, using the centrifugal force for a follow-up strike. The blow disarmed the Skullface to his right, sending its sword and shield flying away.

The disarmed Skullface fell to the ground, now both without weapons and legs.

“Impressive,” Shin remarked, observing Wilhelm’s movements. At the same time, he activated the Swordsmanship-type Martial Skill Crushing Blade, shattering the arms of the Skullface to his left. His katana, already in hand, gleamed as it delivered the strike.

In Shin’s grip was the crimson-bladed katana Red Thousand Birds, imbued with lightning attributes. Its cutting-edge design and durability surpassed those of the Kazuchi blade he had used before, marking it as a legendary-class weapon.

The Skullface, now left with only its head and torso, remained undamaged at its core. Yet, every flash of crimson lightning that surged through the blade continuously depleted its HP.

The katana’s lightning attribute inflicted extra damage by sending faint electrical shocks throughout the monster’s body, allowing it to drain HP even without a direct hit to the core. For monsters like Skullfaces, whose non-core parts were rarely vulnerable, Red Thousand Birds proved highly effective. This was one of the main reasons Shin had chosen it.

“Rashia! Keep spamming Heal on the one in front of me!” Shin called out, keeping Wilhelm in his peripheral vision.

“Y-Yes!!” Rashia replied, her voice brimming with determination.

While chanting, Shin pushed down on the Skullface, which writhed in resistance. Simultaneously, he broadened his awareness beyond what he could see. Despite the mist hindering his vision, his Presence Detection skill picked up on several monsters approaching, probably attracted by the noise of the fight.

“More incoming. Let’s finish this quickly,” Shin warned.

“I’m trying, but I can’t do it any faster!” Rashia replied, straining from the effort.

Even with her efforts, the significant level difference between her and the Skullface, over 100 levels, meant her Divine Art Heal took considerable time to whittle away its HP.

“Tch. So that’s the limit of Heal as an offensive art,” Wilhelm muttered, clicking his tongue in irritation before he turned to Shin.

“Hey, Shin! Can’t you use that barrier to trap them and attack from the inside?” Wilhelm asked.

“Nope, that’s not possible. Even if it were, I wouldn’t know how to pull it off,” Shin replied, shaking his head.

While Wilhelm’s idea sounded appealing, the mechanics of barrier-type skills did not permit such a tactic. Barriers completely isolated their interior from the outside, preventing any one-sided attacks. This was an inherent limitation of such skills.

In a world with more freedom than any game ever offered, there had to be some way to make this work—with a little creativity, maybe.

“Tch. Guess we’re stuck doing it the old-fashioned way,” Wilhelm muttered, shoulders tensing with annoyance.

“Looks like it,” Shin said, letting out a breath through his nose.

Trying to immobilize enemies without taking them out entirely was way more trouble than either of them had expected. Most adventurers wouldn’t even bother with a tactic like this; it was impractical and exhausting. But as far as Shin and Wilhelm were concerned, the real lesson was simple:

What a pain in the ass.

“Hey! I’m over here doing my best, and you two are just chatting away like this is some picnic! What’s with that?!” Rashia shouted from behind, her voice cracking with frustration.

Rashia’s protests, however heartfelt, were casually brushed aside by the two, who kept their weapons raised and their attention sharp, just enough to react, not enough to worry.

“Since we’re near the edge of the plains, the monsters aren’t too high-level,” Shin noted, eyes scanning the misty horizon.

“We’ll probably have to head deeper in at some point,” Wilhelm replied with a grunt. “That said, we can’t go charging in just yet. Not until Rashia’s strong enough to keep up.”

“She’s already come a long way,” Shin said, glancing back at her. “Started at level 10. Jumped to level 24. Those Biohounds we fought earlier were around level 60… and after finishing off that last one, she jumped straight to 40. The EXP boost from huge level gaps really stacks.”

If a by-the-books adventurer overheard that, they’d probably explode with something like, “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”, after grinding away for months just to see marginal gains. But Shin didn’t dwell on it. They didn’t have the luxury of leveling the slow way.

And besides, criticizing Rashia now would be cruel.

She was still chanting Heal, her hands trembling, lips tight with focus, standing right there in the middle of bloodlust thick enough to choke on. Monsters that could kill her in one hit were watching, waiting. For her, this wasn’t some training mission.

This was life or death.

Even with them there to protect her, fear like that cut deeper than steel. It wasn’t the kind of terror adventurers got used to over time; it was the raw kind, the kind that numbed your fingers and turned your knees to water. Shin was sure of one thing: if mental stress had a number, Rashia’s would be in the red.

“She’s close to her limit,” he murmured. “Probably low on… mana, too. Throwing her in against Biohounds right away might’ve been pushing it.”

He caught himself before saying MP. The locals only used the term mana. He hadn’t heard MP mentioned once since arriving, and slipping up with game-world terminology would raise questions he didn’t want to answer.

Thankfully, Wilhelm didn’t seem to catch the hesitation.

“Yeah. It’s been brutal. Honestly, kind of a miracle she’s still standing,” he said, watching Rashia with something that wasn’t quite admiration, but wasn’t indifference either.

“If she goes down, we’re in trouble,” Shin said. “Let’s clear out the ones closing in and give her a break.”

“Yeah, agreed. No point in leveling up if it doesn’t restore her mana anyway,” Wilhelm added.

Deciding not to push their luck too soon, the group pulled back to their base for a much-needed breather.

In the game, leveling up used to refill everything—HP, mana, the works. But here? That didn’t seem to happen. Shin had been hoping to use level-ups mid-battle like a reset button, but that strategy had just gone out the window.

Guess I’ll have to manage recovery more carefully. No more crutching on full restores. I’ll have to keep an eye on my mana pool from now on.

With magic potions like Ether in limited supply, Shin made a mental note: they’d need to work natural recovery into their combat plans. As he cut down the last of the encroaching monsters, his mind was already recalculating. This was going to take longer than he’d thought.

Once the skirmish ended, the group retreated past the edge of the plains to catch their breath.

Rashia, though clearly rattled, was physically fine, thanks in no small part to the rapid level gains. Her body and mana were in peak condition, even if her nerves weren’t.

“Ugh, I thought I was going to die,” she groaned, letting herself drop onto the grass.

“Not with us around, you weren’t,” Wilhelm said, chuckling.

Shin gave her a reassuring nod. “He’s right. That said… Biohounds are no joke for regular folks. Especially with how they look.”

“Don’t remind me!” Rashia snapped, wrapping her arms around herself with a visible shudder. She tried to shoot them a glare, but it lacked any real bite.

“By the way, was that your first time fighting monsters for real?” Shin asked, curiosity slipping into his tone.

“It’s not like I’ve never been in a fight before, but that? That was completely different! They just came out of nowhere, and those things… Gods, they were awful. And my level shot up so fast I thought I broke something!”

“That’s what happens with a level gap like that,” Wilhelm said. “At this pace, you’ll probably unlock Purification around level 150.”

Since Rashia wasn’t one of the reincarnated, her growth wasn’t capped or slowed like Shin’s had been. She was rocketing through the levels at a terrifying pace. If things kept up, she might even catch up to Wilhelm—though in terms of raw power, there would still be a massive gulf between them.

Then again, they played different roles. It wasn’t a competition.

“That might be true, but my body feels… lighter,” Rashia said, glancing down at her hands. “And it’s like my mana’s overflowing. It’s exciting, but also kinda scary. It almost feels like my body’s turning into something else.”

“Yeah, normally you level up little by little,” Wilhelm said, stretching his arms behind his head. “The changes aren’t noticeable all at once.”

“Well, you’ll get used to it,” Shin said, then shifted the topic with a subtle smile. “That aside, I’ve got something for you.”

He reached into his box and pulled out a Secret Scroll.

From what they’d seen in combat, Rashia’s Divine Art Heal was clearly lagging behind the skill-based version. Tiera had mentioned it was about a third as effective, but that gap probably changed from user to user. In Rashia’s case, it was probably even worse.

Even at nearly level 70, she still needed multiple casts to take down a near-dead Biohound. The inefficiency was hard to ignore.

Which was why Shin had made up his mind. It was time for her to learn the real thing. Since the skills weren’t offensive, there was little risk of misuse.

“What’s that?” Rashia asked, eyeing the scroll with wide-eyed curiosity.

“It’s called a Secret Scroll. Use it, and you’ll learn the skills written inside. This one has Heal and Cure.”

“Wait, it gives me skills?!” she blurted, stumbling back half a step. Her hands flew up in front of her chest like she was fending it off. “No way! I can’t take something that valuable! Do you have any idea what that would sell for?!”

Her reaction made it clear just how rare and precious skills were to the average person.

“You don’t need to repay me,” Shin said casually. “Just keep my secrets. I was planning to give it to you anyway. Those skills will help people, right?”

“Oh, really?” Wilhelm cut in, voice dripping with suspicion. “That’s your real reason? Or do you just like sounding noble?”

His stare all but shouted, “Don’t give me that crap.”

Shin sighed. So much for subtlety.

“Arts just aren’t cutting it,” he admitted. “If we want to speed things up, this is the way.”

“So you’re just being lazy!” Wilhelm shot back without missing a beat.

“Call it what you want,” Shin said with a shrug. “But you know as well as I do, arts are weaker than skills. The level gap doesn’t help, sure, but even so, it’s taking too long. We’ve got two hundred monsters to deal with out here. We can’t afford to stretch this out for weeks.”

His expression darkened slightly.

“We left the orphanage in Tria-san’s hands… and that pig-headed priest’s still lurking around. Who knows what he’ll pull while we’re gone.”

The group from the orphanage fell quiet. No one could really argue with Shin’s reasoning. They all knew just how inefficient things had been so far, and if Heal and Cure could be used back at the church, they’d be worth their weight in gold.

To Shin, these were nothing more than beginner-level skills, stuff he used to hand out casually to newbies back in the game. Sharing them here might go against local customs, but as long as no one asked where they came from, he figured it was fine. And honestly, if it came down to it, he was ready to spread them even further.

Still, the real reason behind the rush was apparent to all of them: the orphanage.

With Wilhelm, their strongest fighter, out of the picture, there was a real chance that someone might take advantage of his absence. And that priest… Shin didn’t trust him for a second.

“I understand,” Rashia said, bowing her head slightly. “I’ll gratefully accept your offer.”

“Good call,” Shin replied, then motioned for her to go ahead.

With some hesitation, Rashia unrolled the Secret Scroll. As her eyes scanned the text, a soft green light, just like the one that had surrounded Tiera when she learned Analyze, rose and enveloped her. It lingered for a few moments, then faded into nothing.

“How does it feel?” Shin asked.

“Oh, yes, I can tell how to use it now,” Rashia said, her eyes lighting up.

“So it’s not something you memorize by reading, huh?” Wilhelm asked, leaning in with a skeptical squint.

“Nope,” Shin said, crossing his arms. “From what I’ve heard, it just sort of… imprints itself into your mind.”

“Yes, exactly,” Rashia added. “It’s hard to describe, but it feels like the method just… settled in. Like I’ve known it all along.”

She stared down at the now-empty Secret Scroll, a strange reverence in her expression, as if it had handed her a piece of something sacred.

“Well, let’s get moving,” Shin said, pushing himself to his feet.

“Yeah,” Wilhelm echoed, rising beside him.

“O-Okay!” Rashia scrambled upright, still holding the scroll with both hands. She hadn’t lost much physical stamina, so she was more than ready to continue.

The moment they stepped back into the field, enemies came crawling toward them, Pawn-classSkullfaces and Biohounds, their forms slinking out of the mist like hunters drawn by scent.

But Rashia was different now.

Her Heal was no longer a slow burn. It was sharp, immediate, and powerful.

The dark aura clinging to the Biohounds dissolved in an instant, her cast sweeping it away like smoke blown apart by the wind. No more back-and-forth, no more waiting for Shin or Wilhelm to wear them down. Now, just a few clean casts were enough to erase them entirely.

Watching her work, Shin found himself nodding quietly.

So that’s why skill inheritance holders are held in such high regard.

“That’s… a massive difference in power,” Shin muttered, watching the aftermath of Rashia’s casting.

Still facing forward, Wilhelm responded without even glancing back. “Yeah? I guess that’s just how skills are, right?”

Shin blinked. “Wait, don’t tell me. You’ve never seen them in action before?”

“Nope,” Wilhelm said casually. “First time.”

Shin groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “I hate how that somehow makes perfect sense.”

Even with the banter, they didn’t let up. Wilhelm drove Venom into the limbs of a Jack-class Skullface, crushing bones with brutal efficiency. At the same time, Shin dispatched a humanoid monster—an enormous Gray Orc, level 163—by slamming the flat of his katana against its temple.

Gray Orcs, sometimes called Zombie Orcs, were exactly what they sounded like—bloated, half-rotted versions of regular orcs, shuffling forward with dead eyes and relentless aggression.

“Peace to the wounded. Heal!” Rashia called out, her timing perfect.

A flash of radiance erupted across the field as her skill struck home. Despite the monsters’ still-formidable level difference, Heal was doing real damage, far more than any art ever had. Under the pressure of Rashia’s magic, the two undead began to crumble, breaking apart into particles of soft, glowing light.

Strangely, of everyone watching, Rashia herself looked the most stunned.

Wilhelm flicked dust off the shaft of his spear. “Well, this should speed things up.”

“Maybe,” Shin said, “but the real issue’s finding valid targets. They’ve gotta be level 150 or higher.”

“Daylight, open plains, and we’re not even inside the sealed zone. It’s no wonder they’re rare. Still…” Wilhelm said, sighing deeply, “it’s frustrating.”

“Wait.” Shin paused mid-step. “Sealed zone?”

Wilhelm gave him a sideways glance. “You don’t know? Seriously?”

Shin shook his head. “First I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, listen up,” Wilhelm said, shifting his grip on Venom. “This whole area’s locked down with monster-repelling artifacts. Keeps the heavy-hitters from spilling out into the rest of the region. The closer you get to the center, the stronger the undead. It’s all regulated by the guild; they don’t mess around.”

“I see. So they’re focusing the seal’s effect on the stronger monsters and letting the weaker ones roam free,” Shin said thoughtfully.

“Exactly,” Wilhelm nodded. “They only have so many sealing tools, so they can’t waste them on low-level pests. Makes sense they’d prioritize the real threats.”

The layout reminded Shin of a dungeon, where the deeper you went, the stronger the enemies became. Only this time, “depth” referred to how close you were to the center of the plains. A strange inversion of dungeon logic, but familiar enough in structure.

“So, how do we get into the sealed area?” Shin asked, glancing toward the hazy interior.

“If you’ve got a guild card marked A-rank or above, you’re in. That’s one of the perks when the guild runs the show,” Wilhelm replied.

Shin gave a small nod, watching as Rashia brought down another Gray Orc with her now-potent Heal, the monster dissolving into a swirl of glowing embers.

“All right. Then tonight, we head inside.”

At this point, Rashia’s level had risen so fast that lower-ranked monsters had started to steer clear of her. The once-crowded fields were beginning to feel eerily empty. Only the occasional Jack-class Skullface still showed its face, and even then, they were few and far between, already dispatched by Shin and Wilhelm.

They weren’t making progress. Not nearly enough.

Their target number was still in the single digits, far from the total they needed. So when Rashia’s level finally ticked past eighty, Shin called for a retreat.

Back at their base, the group rested until sunset. The sky was still bright enough to see by, but Shin and Wilhelm took shifts on watch just in case. Rashia didn’t last long; barely had she lain down before she was out cold, completely spent.

With nothing else to do during his shift, Shin turned inward. He figured now was as good a time as any to run a few tests.

Last time, he’d focused on offense. This time, he turned his attention to detection-type skills.

Back in the game, I could only have a few of these running at once, he recalled, already starting to stack activations one after another.

Presence Detection. Search. Trap Awareness. Magic Flow Perception.

One by one, they activated. No warnings, no cooldown restrictions, no skill slot limits.

“This is… incredible,” Shin whispered, wide-eyed.

Even abilities that had been mutually exclusive in the game world now worked side by side without issue. It was like the rules had been rewritten, or maybe removed entirely.

The result was beyond anything Shin had anticipated.

Their strengths had merged seamlessly, erasing almost every previous weakness. The detection range had widened considerably, and even individual targets could now be singled out with pinpoint accuracy.

“It’s so versatile. It’s like… a whole new skill altogether,” Shin muttered, still watching the overlapping layers of perception in his mind’s eye. “Do similar skills always enhance each other like this?”

He made a mental note to look into that. So far, combining detection-type abilities had only yielded benefits, but that felt suspiciously convenient.

There’s no way it always works this smoothly… right?

Dozens of questions began to pile up. Did this effect apply to passives too? Or only to manual activations? Were there limits? Risks?

He didn’t have answers yet. Just possibilities, and those were multiplying fast.

Before he realized it, his shift was over. The hours had vanished in a blur of silent experimentation and wonder.

By the time 8 p.m. rolled around and the sun had completely vanished, the group was ready to head deeper into the Wraith Plains.

Shin had assumed the trip would be slow going, but to his surprise, the thick mist that blanketed the area during the day had all but disappeared. Under the moonlight, visibility was surprisingly clear.

“Huh. I figured the mist would still be around at night,” Shin said, narrowing his eyes at the now-barren field.

“No clue what’s up with that,” Wilhelm replied with a shrug. “I heard some mages say it might be from mana leaking out of the dungeon.”

“Leaking mana?” Shin repeated, intrigued.

“Yeah. Supposedly, the dungeon itself is some kind of undead. Since part of it’s exposed above ground, sunlight damages it. So, they think the mana inside starts spilling out because of that.”

“Huh… that actually kind of tracks,” Shin said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

Undead and sunlight didn’t mix. He’d seen it himself; drag one into daylight, and their shadowy aura would start burning off, almost like their HP was evaporating into the air.

So maybe the mist was just that. A byproduct. A giant cloud of mana bleeding out into the world.

“At night, maybe the dungeon’s just soaking that energy back in,” Shin mused aloud. “Recovering what it lost during the day.”

“Most likely. Not that it matters to us,” Wilhelm said with a shrug.

“Fair point,” Shin replied, matching his pace.

Not long after, a faint, shimmering wall came into view—translucent blue, stretching across the plains like a curtain of light.

“This it?” Shin asked.

“Yeah. That’s the seal I mentioned earlier,” Wilhelm said, slowing to a stop. “The blue part’s just the visual marker. The actual barrier covers the whole airspace above it, too.”

“I see.”

At a glance, the wall stood maybe four mels high, low enough that someone might think they could vault over it. But Shin could feel it: the pressure, the quiet hum of energy. This wasn’t something you could bypass with a simple jump.

Wilhelm turned back to the group. “All right. Everyone ready?”

“I’m good to go,” Shin said, tightening his grip on the hilt of his katana.

“M-Me too,” Rashia added, her nerves leaking through her voice.

“Kuu!” chirped Yuzuha, fluffing up beside her.

With a quick nod, Wilhelm stepped forward and pressed his guild card to the wall. A moment later, a narrow doorway shimmered into existence, about two mels tall and one wide.

Wilhelm stepped through first. Yuzuha, now trotting alongside Rashia, followed behind, and Shin brought up the rear. It was a formation designed with caution in mind—Wilhelm to shield from the front, Shin to guard the back.

Once inside, Shin glanced around. The terrain looked almost exactly the same—open, slightly uneven grassland bathed in moonlight. No cliffs, no obvious structures. At a glance, the sealed zone felt nearly identical to the outside.

It wasn’t.

Shin’s enhanced detection abilities, stacked through his combined skills, were already pinging with movement. A handful of presences flickered into focus, just beyond visual range.

They had time. No monsters in immediate view. Still, Shin sharpened his focus and began mentally isolating the incoming targets.

Three Raptoraptors, closing in from dead ahead. Two Jumpkins flanking from the left.

Raptoraptors looked like wingless wyverns. They were massive, muscular beasts that relied on terrifying leg strength to unleash devastating kicks. Their claws weren’t just sharp; they carried a paralytic effect that made getting hit once a gamble. Most of them sat around level 170.

The Jumpkins, on the other hand, were something else entirely.

They hovered through the air like cursed lanterns, resembling grotesque flying pumpkins with rotted, uneven skin and carved faces that twisted into exaggerated expressions. Some smiled. Others grimaced. Some wept. The worst ones laughed.

Each emotion fueled a different kind of magic: joy and anger sparked fire spells, while sorrow and amusement triggered earth-based attacks. And unlike the Raptoraptors, their levels hovered closer to 200.

“We’ve got company,” Wilhelm muttered, his instincts already alert.

“Three Raptoraptors up front. Two Jumpkins flanking from the left,” Shin confirmed, narrowing his eyes.

Wilhelm turned slightly, brows raised. “You can tell that already?”

“Yeah. You handle the Raptoraptors. I’ll keep the Jumpkins off our backs.”

“Fair enough,” Wilhelm said, readying Venom without missing a beat.

Without another word, they moved. Shin gave a sharp nod to Yuzuha, entrusting her with Rashia’s protection. Then he broke into a sprint, heading toward the floating threats.

The Jumpkins hovered about two to three mels off the ground, just high enough to avoid most melee fighters.

Not Shin.

Drawing Red Thousand Birds, he exploded off the grass in a single motion. The world blurred around him.

“Sei!”

Two arcs of crimson light tore through the air.

The Jumpkins froze in place. Half a second later, two wet thuds resounded as the monsters crashed down, motionless.

They weren’t dead, just paralyzed. Shin had struck them with the blunt edge of his blade, aiming to incapacitate, not kill. Without hesitation, he pulled a large cloth from his item box and wrapped both monsters in a practiced motion.

“Rashia, you’re up,” he called over his shoulder, hoisting the bundle with ease.

A few seconds later, Wilhelm clashed with the Raptoraptors.

Despite their decayed bodies, patches of flesh missing, bone occasionally showing, they were nothing like the Biohounds. Standing at around two mels tall, they resembled undead dinosaurs: fast, muscular, and violently aggressive. Their movements were crude, sure, but all they needed was one clean strike to end a fight.

Wilhelm knew better than to give them the chance.

“Tch.” Wilhelm’s lips curled in annoyance as the first Raptoraptor lunged straight at him. He sidestepped with ease.

A decoy.

From the flanks, the other two pounced simultaneously, claws outstretched, jaws slack and twitching.

“Nice try,” Wilhelm grunted.

Venom swung wide in one precise sweeping arc. The blade caught both attackers midair. The impact sent them spiraling backward, brittle bones snapping like dry twigs. The squelch of ruptured organs followed a beat later, thick and wet in the night air.

Wilhelm glanced at the two crumpled forms. They weren’t fading yet, still intact, still technically alive. That was good. He hadn’t gone too far.

Which left the last one.

The remaining Raptoraptor crouched low, eyes locked on him, a faint shimmer of instinct flickering beneath its undead haze. It didn’t flinch. Didn’t run.

“You’re a stubborn bastard,” Wilhelm muttered. “Getting real tired of half-measures.”

He didn’t wait.

One step, then another. Fast. Direct.

Venom came down like a guillotine, clean and fast. The blow crushed the skull in a single hit, caving bone inward without mangling the rest of the body.

Once the fight was over, Wilhelm pulled some rope from his item box and bound the remaining two monsters without ceremony. He slung them over his shoulder like sacks of grain, their limbs dangling limply.

Neutralized and transportable, just the way Rashia needed them.

He turned to head back toward the rendezvous point.

Then—

“Kiaaaaaaaaaa!!”

An ear-piercing shriek ripped across the plains.

Wilhelm stopped in his tracks.

He exhaled through his nose, deadpan.

“… Rashia.”

Part 8

While Shin’s party was busy hunting undead in the heart of the Wraith Plains, a different battle had erupted in a forest several dozen kemels away.

“Surround it! Aim for the core!”

“Injured, use potions! Clerics and mages, focus all lightarts on the enemy!”

“Keep Jacks distracted! Don’t let the Pawns regroup!”

Steel rang through the trees as a unit of knights, armor dulled by grime and battle wear, surged forward with a thunderous cry. Their swords hammered against the towering Skullface, holding the line with sheer determination. Behind them, clerics in ceremonial robes and mages cloaked in spell-threaded cloth lobbed spheres of radiance through the gaps in formation. Each orb struck like a sunburst, purging the shadows wrapped around the Pawn-class Skullfaces. Bones clattered to the ground. The frontline pushed forward.

Unfortunately, the real enemy hadn’t fallen.

“Damn it, it’s too strong!” a knight shouted, staggering as his shield caught another crushing blow.

“Reinforce the flanks! If we lose more, we’ll be overrun!” another bellowed, trying to keep the defense from cracking.

“What is that thing?!”

Even among this elite force, soldiers chosen from multiple allied nations, panic had begun to slip in. No matter how many hits they landed, their opponent remained pristine. Not even a scratch. Attacks that should’ve ended the fight were shrugged off like wind.

“Even for a Jack-class, this is ridiculous!”

The clash of metal and bone swallowed the comment.

In the middle of it all stood the Jack-class Skullface, a monstrous figure clad in rusted armor, its left arm wrapped around an unnatural white shield that shimmered faintly in the dark. It didn’t roar. It didn’t react. It just kept pressing forward, countering, swinging, breaking whatever stood in its path.

The knights had begun to falter. Some dropped to a knee, others fought through wounds that should’ve knocked them out cold. Still, they held on, but just barely.

Bergh, commander of the unit, stood at the front.

Years of experience gritted his jaw shut, but the frustration was written all over his face. Nothing he’d learned, nothing he’d seen before, was helping now.

Its timing’s too clean. Its guard doesn’t drop. Is it learning as it fights?

Every strategy he ran in his head crumbled the moment he tried to apply it. There was no pattern, no weak point, nothing to exploit.

For the first time in a long while, Bergh felt it—something that had no place on a battlefield he commanded.

Doubt.

Its agility was inhuman. Its swordplay, flawless, calculated, unrelenting, matched that of a seasoned master. And worse, it carried a shield that rendered even light-elemental magic and divine arts—normally fatal to undead—practically useless.

They had it surrounded. And yet no one could close the gap.

Any careless advance ended in blood. That shield didn’t just defend; it controlled the battlefield. Every time Bergh’s unit tried to press forward, the line broke, someone screamed, someone fell. The frustration clawed at them.

If only we could get rid of that shield…

Bergh gritted his teeth. The same thought had looped in his mind since the battle began. That cursed shield was the reason this Skullface was a monster. High defense, magical resistance, no drag on its movement. It didn’t make sense. Nothing that strong should move that fast.

It was absurd. Borderline unfair. The kind of thing that made a man want to curse the gods.

Still, it was not unbeatable.

The knights had grit and experience. They weren’t rookies hoping for a miracle; they were hardened soldiers. And thanks to their relentless efforts, small cracks had begun to show. Scratches on armor. Delayed footwork.

Bergh watched, calculated, and adjusted.

He was ready to call a retreat. If it meant preserving lives and regrouping, so be it.

And then—

A streak of silver light tore across the battlefield.

It didn’t roar. Didn’t spark or explode. It was simply fast and smooth. A line of motion zigzagging unpredictably, too quick for the human eye to trace. The next thing Bergh knew, it was at his side.

The Skullface collapsed.

The battlefield froze.

No shouting, no clash of steel, but utter silence, broken only by the soft rustle of wind in the trees.

The silver light took shape and became a figure.

She didn’t radiate power. She didn’t need to.

Long, luminous silver hair flowed down her back, catching the faint moonlight like strands of silk. Her eyes, piercing, azure, calm, held a quiet confidence that silenced any question. A faint smile touched her lips. Not arrogance, not amusement. Just a kind of peace. An elegance that didn’t feel born of effort, but of nature itself.

She looked like a painting that had stepped into the world.

Then the wind shifted, and from behind a few strands of her hair, pointed ears emerged.

Elven. No, more than that.

High elf, Bergh thought. And for a long, silent moment, no one dared move.

The woman’s attire resembled a maid’s uniform, but only at first glance. Upon closer inspection, it bore more in common with a Victorian-era dress from Earth. A wide apron lay neatly across her torso, and the long skirt flowed to the floor in elegant folds. It was, unmistakably, the uniform worn by the staff of the Moon Sanctum.

Whether it was due to the expert tailoring or her naturally graceful figure, her silhouette drew the eyes of more than a few knights. Some found themselves staring, just for a moment too long, at the gentle curve of her chest, before quickly looking away, ashamed.

Yet none could deny it: this woman held the entire battlefield in the palm of her hand. And she did it with nothing more than a dagger in her hands.

She was Schnee Raizar, the acting manager of the Moon Sanctum, a high elf of old blood and ancient arts.

“Wide Heal.”

Her voice rang out across the forest like a bell, clear, calm, and effortless.

A soft light radiated outward in gentle waves, wrapping around the battered knights. The Divine-type Skill Wide Heal was far stronger than the typical healing art, and its effect was immediate. Cuts sealed shut. Bruises faded. Exhaustion lightened.

By the time the glow faded, the men and women who had been slumped in pain now stood whole, stunned by the completeness of their recovery. Not a single scar remained. Low, reverent murmurs rose.

Bergh was the first to move.

Realizing how long he’d stood there like a fool, he stiffened his posture and raised his voice.

“Formation check! Mages regroup at the center! We’re not done yet!”

His commands snapped the knights back into motion. Armor clanked. Boots stamped the soil. The forest stirred once again with the sound of disciplined movement.

Then, turning to her, Bergh placed a fist to his chest.

“We are deeply indebted to you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “If you hadn’t appeared when you did… we were ready to fall back.”

Schnee offered a quiet smile. “It was your courage that made this possible,” she said softly. “Your strength carried you through.”

Her tone was gentle, but it reached deep. For Bergh, her words were more than thanks; they felt like absolution. The weight pressing on his chest lightened.

“Your kindness honors us, Schnee-dono,” he said, bowing his head. “But let us not pretend. Without your aid, we’d have been overrun. Allow us at least to recognize that truth.”

“If you insist,” she replied, her smile unchanged, her gaze steady. “But don’t relax just yet.”

She said it without raising her voice or hardening her tone. And yet, the air shifted again.

Her warning wasn’t a formality.

The battle wasn’t over.

It all began a month ago, when a newly promoted B-rank adventurer wandered a little too close to the Wraith Plains. Just as they were about to step into the fog, a Skullface emerged, breaking through the mist several mels away.

The sight defied logic. Monsters from the Wraith Plains weren’t supposed to cross the border. That had always been the rule.

The adventurer froze, but only for a second. They’d survived more than a few close calls in the past, and they knew exactly what this meant. Whatever was happening, it was bad. Without wasting another breath, they turned and ran, sprinting all the way back to town to report what they’d seen.

The guild didn’t hesitate. A scouting party was dispatched almost immediately. What they found confirmed the worst: while the exact cause remained unclear, a handful of monsters, stronger than typical Skullfaces, were leaking out of the fog and into the forest beyond.

The Wraith Plains were massive, and the breaches unpredictable. It took weeks to identify the precise moment when these creatures were slipping through. No one could say how many had already gotten out. Their movements were erratic, impossible to track. Meanwhile, reports of casualties started coming in from nearby nations.

When Shin first arrived at the guild, the absence of veteran adventurers wasn’t by chance. They were already dealing with the fallout.

The surrounding nations didn’t sit still. Patrols were doubled, fortifications strengthened. But it didn’t help. These monsters were too strong. Too fast. They weren’t like the undead anyone had fought before. In most cases, the defenders didn’t win; they ran or died.

With the threat escalating, the monarchs of the allied nations invoked their old pact, summoning elite knights from their armies to form a joint suppression force. Their mission: contain the threat and restore order.

At the same time, a request was sent to a single person: Schnee Raizar, the acting manager of the Moon Sanctum and someone known for solving the kinds of problems no one else could.

There was no guarantee she’d accept. She had no obligation to help. But she did.

Without hesitation, Schnee joined the suppression force—not for politics or prestige, but because she wanted to protect the people.

“Now then, as per our agreement, the weapons and materials from the monsters will be entrusted to Schnee-dono,” Bergh declared.

“Yes, I’ll take care of them,” Schnee replied with a polite nod. She began storing the scattered equipment of the fallen Skullfaces into her item box, her movements efficient and practiced.

Since the suppression force was a joint operation comprising knights from multiple nations, measures were taken to prevent disputes over valuable equipment and materials. Most items would be distributed equally after the campaign, with certain exceptions. To prevent opportunism or theft, the task of managing the spoils was entrusted to Schnee, who not only possessed an item box but also stood among the most capable combatants.

Watching her efficiently store the Skullfaces’ equipment, Bergh couldn’t help but think: if Schnee Raizar hadn’t been here, the situation would have spiraled into an even worse catastrophe.

As the recent battle demonstrated, even the finest knights from multiple nations working together struggled against some of these monsters. While the knights' lack of coordination contributed to their difficulty, the sheer strength of these creatures was undeniably abnormal.

The greatest concern was the emergence of monsters like the recent Skullface, which wielded exceptional weaponry. Reports gathered so far indicated that all such cases involved Skullfaces, but this pattern wasn’t guaranteed. Bergh could only hope these monsters would eventually exhaust their supply of extraordinary weapons.

Currently, Schnee was systematically eliminating the Skullfaces wielding special weapons, while the knights, leveraging their numerical advantage, focused on the others. Should a weapon-bearing monster appear, a messenger would immediately notify Schnee, a system that had worked just in time for this battle. When Schnee arrived, even monsters that overwhelmed the knights were dispatched effortlessly, often in mere moments. And she achieved this in close combat, a domain traditionally challenging for elves.

“She truly is someone the high humans deemed worthy of their company,” Bergh murmured.

The high humans, legendary rulers of a long-lost continent, had once shared their dominion with allies of Schnee’s caliber. That connection alone commanded the awe and reverence of the people in this world. Despite the passage of countless years, the legacy of the high humans remained vivid in humanity's collective memory.

The knights fought valiantly, driven by the honor of standing alongside such a figure. Determined not to disgrace themselves, they poured their all into the battle. This shared resolve minimized internal disputes and kept the monster-suppression effort moving smoothly.

The Skullface they had just defeated marked the last known monster in the area. All that remained now was to work alongside the adventurers dispatched by the guild, combing through the surroundings to ensure nothing had been missed. If no new threats surfaced in the coming days, the suppression force would withdraw. After that, the allied nations, alongside the guilds, would coordinate to establish a permanent surveillance network around the Wraith Plains.

“I hope we’ve seen the last of this trouble…” Bergh murmured. His voice was low and worn, tinged with both exhaustion and fragile hope.

Then, without warning, a faint ripple of unease passed through him. Bergh had learned long ago not to ignore such feelings. His instincts were a sharpened blade honed by years in the field. He muttered under his breath and turned his eyes toward Schnee.

She stood near the clearing, where the materials from the last Skullface had been scattered. In her hands was a letter, already opened. She was reading, absorbed in its contents.

“Schnee-dono?” Bergh called out, brows furrowing. “Is something wrong?”

She folded the letter with deliberate care and turned to face him. As she did, Bergh caught a fleeting glimpse of the words Azure Moon printed across the page. The phrase meant nothing to him, but it stayed in his thoughts.

“No, it’s nothing,” Schnee said, her tone as composed as ever. “I’ll be continuing the search on my own. Since locating exact positions may prove difficult, please use the magic item I gave you should you encounter more monsters.”

“Understood,” Bergh replied, though his concern didn’t fade.

Schnee wasted no time. With a graceful pivot, she turned and vanished into the trees. Even dressed in a full-length skirt, her movements were smooth and fast, like wind sliding between leaves.

As she ran, the words from the letter looped through her thoughts. The card had come from Tiera. Within it, a short note and a name. A common name. Not enough to stir her on its own.

Then came the mention of Azure Moon.

That changed everything.

To her knowledge, only one person possessed it.

“You’ve come back, haven’t you?” she whispered, voice trembling.

She knew she wasn’t herself. Not the way she usually was. Not the Schnee Raizar people expected.

She kept running.

Her path was clear back to the Wraith Plains. She hated the thought of wasting time on routine monster patrols, but once a task was accepted, she would see it through. That wouldn’t change.

Still, her heart outran her duty.

I might finally meet the one I’ve been waiting for.

That single hope burned bright in her chest, driving her forward with a force no command could summon.

Chapter 2: Beyond the Long Night

Part 1

A few nights into their hunt in the Wraith Plains, Shin’s group remained within the confines of the sealed area.

“Damn it! Hey, Shin! A Pecker Hollow headed our way!” Wilhelm shouted, his voice tight with tension.

“Can’t be helped. Let’s pull back for now,” Shin replied, his tone calm but decisive.

The moment they sensed the monster’s approach, Shin and Wilhelm ordered Rashia and Yuzuha to fall back first, then followed after them, exiting the boundaries of the sealed zone. Based on their prior observations, the barrier blocked monsters from detecting anything beyond it, even if the enemy was nearby. Sure enough, the Pecker Hollow eventually wandered off, hovering aimlessly for a bit before losing interest and moving on.

The Pecker Hollow was a monster straight out of a nightmare. A level 541 undead beast, it was said to be born from the merging of countless corpses, fused into one seething mass of hatred. Its form was grotesque, like the upper body of a mantis erupting straight out of the earth.

It was hard to even look at. Its “compound eyes” were actually clusters of human eyes jammed together. Its scythe-like arms? Just human bones, shaped into blades. Faces, limbs, even feet stuck out at random angles. Just standing near it could turn your stomach. The thing’s reputation alone had been enough to make most female players avoid any area where it was known to spawn.

Interestingly, its appearance wasn’t what made it dangerous.

Its true threat lay in its skill: Deadman’s Howl.

The howl didn’t deal much damage. That wasn’t the problem. The real danger came from the barrage of status effects it unleashed: confusion, madness, and curses, all stacked together. And worse, they were all level V or higher. It was a walking nightmare. While Shin and Wilhelm could probably manage, Rashia and Yuzuha wouldn’t last a second under that kind of pressure.

That was why they had a system: if something like the Pecker Hollow showed up, they retreated. Simple. No risks. No exceptions.

“Is it gone?” Wilhelm asked, eyes still scanning the dark.

“Let’s give it a little more time,” Shin said, voice low. “If it hears fighting, it might come back. We don’t want to deal with that.”

In just the past few days, they’d already taken down over two hundred monsters. Most had been minor, sure, but they all counted. By Shin’s estimate, Rashia was just one kill away from unlocking the skill they’d been aiming for: Purification.

“Rashia, Yuzuha, are you both doing okay?” Shin asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yes… Somehow, I feel like I’ve gotten used to it,” Rashia replied, her voice oddly calm for someone who had seen so much horror.

“Ku!” Yuzuha chirped, brimming with energy and completely unfazed.

Shin let out a quiet chuckle at the contrast between Rashia’s detached tone and Yuzuha’s boundless enthusiasm. Then, without missing a beat, he refocused on his Presence Detection, widening his awareness for any sign of danger.

Several readings surfaced in his mind:

A level 343 Jack-class Skullface,

Two level 158 Gray Orcs,

One level 177 Gel Bison,

And four level 249 Einu Jackals.

The Gel Bison was a bison skeleton suspended inside a transparent, jelly-like substance. The gel could stretch and lash out like a whip, snaring anything that got too close. Once caught, its prey would be slowly dissolved and consumed alive.

The Einu Jackal, by contrast, was a scavenger, a monster that had earned its place among the undead by feeding exclusively on carrion. About two mels long and tinged a sickly purple, it resembled a jackal twisted by necrotic energy. Though classified as low-tier, its paralyzing magic eyes made it a frustrating enemy to handle.

Both monsters were the kind that could spell disaster for newer players still adjusting to the system.

As for the Pecker Hollow, it was no longer within range. Enough time had passed since their retreat that Shin felt it was safe to resume their operations, albeit carefully.

Among the threats he detected, only the Skullface was nearby. The rest were clustered along the outer edge of his detection radius.

“There’s a Skullface close by… but its level is off,” Shin muttered, narrowing his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Wilhelm asked, stepping in beside him.

“What’s wrong?” Rashia added, her curiosity piqued.

“Its level is 343,” Shin said. “Remember that King-class Skullface I ran into before? This one gives off the same kind of pressure.”

“This area’s strange enough already, but I’ve never heard of anything like that appearing here,” Wilhelm said, frowning as he scratched his chin. “Then again, I’ve been gone from the kingdom for about a month. Maybe something changed while I was away.”

“Come to think of it,” Rashia said, her brow furrowed as if tugging at a faint thread of memory, “Ragnar-san mentioned something about villages near Bale Rune being attacked by powerful undead monsters.”

She only vaguely recalled it now. Bale Rune, she remembered, was the country that lay directly opposite the Bayrelitch Kingdom, with the Wraith Plains stretched between them.

“Powerful undead, huh? Sounds like it could be connected. Who’s this Ragnar guy?” Shin asked, tilting his head.

“He’s the owner of that bar I took you to. You’ve met him before, remember?” Wilhelm replied.

“Oh, him,” Shin said, recalling the silent man Wilhelm had introduced as a former adventuring companion.

“Well, putting that aside, what’s the plan? Personally, I don’t like the idea of leaving this thing alone,” Shin said, glancing toward Wilhelm.

“How strong do you think it is?” Wilhelm asked.

“If I had to guess, its abilities match its level. The problem is how it moves, way too fast and unpredictable for a typical Skullface. Like that King-class one I fought before.”

“Then it’s just the two of us. No reason to drag Rashia into something that risky,” Wilhelm said, firm in his tone.

“Agreed,” Shin nodded.

Before either could act, Rashia stepped forward, determination blazing in her eyes. “No, I’m coming too!”

The two men exchanged a glance, surprised.

“What do you think?” Wilhelm said. “If she’s this determined, I don’t see the harm. With the gear we gave her, she should be able to handle herself.”

“Fair enough. Rashia, you sure about this?” Shin asked.

“Yes! I don’t want to keep relying on you two to protect me. If I can’t stand on my own, I’ll never be able to go back with my head held high,” she said, voice unwavering.

After all the battles over the past few days, Rashia had grown into someone unfazed even by monsters over level 200. She could now fight enemies above level 80 outside the sealed area without flinching.

That change had come, in large part, thanks to the relentless Spartan-style training from Shin and Wilhelm. While some might question its harshness, the results spoke for themselves.

“All right then. Let’s move,” Shin said.

“Just don’t go charging in ahead of us,” Wilhelm added.

“I’ll show you what I’m capable of!” Rashia replied with renewed fire.

At her words, the group advanced toward the nearby Skullface. Due to the speed difference, Rashia stayed behind; her role was to deliver the final blow. Yuzuha remained at her side, while Shin and Wilhelm pressed forward.

This particular Skullface wasn’t using anything out of the ordinary, but the way it held its sword and shield looked exactly like the one Shin had fought before.

“This one’s just like the one I fought earlier. The stance is the same,” Shin said, narrowing his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter. We stick to the plan and take it down!” Wilhelm shouted as he charged in.

He went in with a powerful strike, aiming straight at the Skullface’s core. The monster blocked with its round shield, raising its left arm. Wilhelm’s spear dug into the shield, but before it could go deeper, the Skullface twisted its arm and knocked the spear off course.

It countered right away, slashing with its sword. The attack came fast, but Wilhelm caught it just in time, bringing his spear back to block. Sparks flew as the weapons clashed, but Wilhelm held his ground.

The Skullface pushed forward, trying to overwhelm him. It shoved with its shield, trying to knock Wilhelm away, but Shin, watching from behind, stepped in with a clean slash.

The Skullface sensed it and jumped back, lifting its shield to block again. Still, a sharp metallic sound echoed as the shield and the arm holding it split apart.

If it had reacted just a bit slower, Shin’s blade would’ve taken off its leg too. But instead, it gave up its arm to avoid worse damage. Not something a normal Skullface would do.

“Well, well. This guy’s not your usual sack of bones,” Wilhelm said with a grin, flashing his teeth.

He looked fired up. The Skullface’s skill had clearly gotten his blood pumping.

“Stay focused,” Shin reminded him.

“I know, I know. Just let me have a little fun,” Wilhelm replied, voice eager.

“You can handle it, but if things get dicey, I’m jumping in.”

“Fine by me. If we run into more like this one, I’ll treat ’em like sparring partners.”

Skullfaces didn’t go down just from losing limbs. Unless the core was destroyed, they’d keep coming. That made it easier to go all-out without holding back.

Wilhelm smirked and lowered his stance. He turned his body slightly and angled Venom down, holding it diagonally in front of him, ready to go again.

His right hand gripped the base of the weapon’s shaft, while his left hovered beneath it, lightly supporting the weight. The stance called to mind a bowstring drawn taut, coiled with deadly potential. Tension crackled in the air, humming like a bow under strain, as Wilhelm’s fighting spirit reached its peak.

Across from him, the Skullface shifted slightly, drawing its right foot back. With deliberate grace, it raised its sword in its right hand, holding the blade upright, level with its head, pointed straight toward the heavens. The faint aura shimmering around its bones began to thicken, condensing into its skeletal form.

It stood like a knight preparing for a duel, and Wilhelm welcomed it.

His fighting spirit surged again, the very air between them icing over with pressure. Neither moved. They stood locked in a silence so tight, so fragile, it felt like even a breath would shatter it—a stillness before the storm.

“Wil!” Rashia’s voice rang out, piercing the frozen air as she finally caught up.

Her cry lit the fuse.

Both figures lunged, shadows in motion.

A deep crimson arc split the darkness as Wilhelm’s blade sliced through the void to meet the Skullface’s decapitating strike. Their weapons clashed, steel meeting steel in a single, thunderous beat.

Then, silence.

The Skullface crumpled, its head and torso crashing to the ground as its limbs scattered like broken twigs across the field. Wilhelm remained still, his weapon, Venom, thrust forward, unwavering.

The Skullface writhed, its limbs twitching in what could only be called a death throe. Wilhelm’s crushing blow had shattered its arms and legs, and the force of the strike had left deep fractures running through its core—one breath away from breaking apart entirely.

“Rashia! Don’t just stand there, finish it off!” Wilhelm barked, glancing back over his shoulder.

Rashia approached with a huff, her fists clenched at her sides. “Why did I even come here?” she muttered, simmering. She hadn’t lifted a finger yet. All that determination she’d built up? Pointless.

Wilhelm didn’t even pretend to feel bad. “Hey, not my fault you didn’t jump in sooner!”

“Ugh, seriously? Is this some divine test?” she groaned, throwing a dramatic glance toward the sky.

Frustrated, but not one to pout for long, Rashia refocused. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with,” she muttered and cast Heal on the fractured core.

A warm light spread across the Skullface’s chest. The lingering aura faded into nothing, and in the next moment, its body dissolved, vanishing like ash on the wind.

Then came a flash.

A golden light surged around Rashia, flooding her body in an ethereal glow.

“W-What the— What’s happening to me?!” she cried, panic rising in her voice.

“Rashia?!” Wilhelm shouted, taking a step forward, eyes narrowed. He hesitated, unsure if moving would make things better or worse.

“Don’t worry!” Shin shouted to calm them both. “This happens when you meet the conditions to unlock a new skill; it’s just an effect!”

It seemed Shin’s calculations had been spot on; the Skullface Rashia had just defeated was her 200th, the exact number required. The radiant effect faded shortly after Shin explained, leaving Rashia standing in a daze, her gaze drifting blankly into the air.

“Hey, Rashia! Are you okay?” Wilhelm asked, giving her a soft pat on the shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Rashia replied, her voice absentminded and exceptionally mellow.

“What’s with that spaced-out look? You sure you’re okay?” Wilhelm asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… All of a sudden, the knowledge on how to use the skill flooded into my head. It startled me, that’s all,” Rashia explained, her tone returning to normal.

“Was it different from when you learned a skill through a Secret Scroll?” Wilhelm asked, tilting his head.

Rashia nodded slowly. “Yeah… it was.” Her eyes narrowed as she tried to put it into words. “When you use a scroll, the knowledge just… flows in. It’s smooth. Feels natural. But this time…” She trailed off, frowning. “It hit me all at once. Like someone dumped a bucket of information straight into my brain. I know that sounds dumb. I’m not great at explaining things, but that’s how it felt.”

Apparently, there were all kinds of ways to gain skills, each with its own effect on the body and mind. And while Rashia looked okay, Shin still couldn’t imagine what that sort of experience must’ve been like. The very idea of knowledge being forced into your head was alien to him.

“Well, whatever the method,” Shin said, offering her a grin, “you got Purification. That’s what matters. Congrats.”

“Yeah. Good job,” Wilhelm added with a short nod.

“Ku!” Yuzuha chirped, her tails wagging in delight.

Rashia looked up at them and smiled. Tears gathered in her eyes, her voice catching in her throat. “Thank you. I… I can save the orphanage now.”

With Purification finally hers, the weight she’d been carrying—fear, uncertainty, helplessness—began to lift. Her smile deepened as she wiped at the tears threatening to spill.

Wilhelm stretched his arms overhead. “Well then. Let’s head back to base. We’ll catch some sleep and head for Bayrelitch Kingdom at first light.”

“Yeah,” Shin agreed, already turning. “No reason to hang around here.”

Rashia nodded. “Let’s go,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

With smiles on their faces, the three of them, along with Yuzuha, started toward the edge of the sealed area. The surroundings were calm, with no sign of enemies. The request was complete, and all that remained was to return to the kingdom.

Or so they all thought.

Part 2

It happened without warning.

The Wraith Plains were deathly quiet at night, no insects, no rustling wildlife, just a heavy, unnatural stillness pressing down on everything. It was that silence that made Shin notice the change right away.

“Huh? What’s that sound?” he muttered, tilting his head.

“Ku?” Yuzuha perked up from her perch atop his head, her ears flicking upright. Whatever it was, she’d heard it too.

At first, it sounded like the wind brushing through the grass—soft, almost gentle. Nothing strange about that. But beneath the rustling came something else. Something wet. Something wrong. A grotesque squelching, like bones and flesh being crushed underfoot.

Shin stopped mid-step and turned.

Then he froze.

“What… is that?” he whispered.

“Ku…” Yuzuha whimpered, her fur standing on end.

“Huh? What’s up with you two?” Wilhelm started, then fell silent as he turned to look. His words died in his throat.

Where the last Skullface had fallen not long ago, a pitch-black sphere now floated in the air. It hadn’t been there moments before, but now, it was impossible to miss. It hovered silently, steadily consuming the remains of the Pecker Hollow.

Shin glanced at the corner of his vision and pulled up the map. A massive red marker now blinked ominously before the blue-and-white icons that represented their party.

It hadn’t been there before.

The Pecker Hollow was being drawn into the sphere and devoured inch by inch. The sphere was only about thirty cemels wide, but it was swallowing the creature whole. The scale didn’t add up. It shouldn’t have been possible.

And yet the sickening sounds didn’t lie.

Snap. Squish. Crack.

The Pecker Hollow’s grotesque body, covered in faces that looked all too human, was being compressed, crushed into the void.

Still, it didn’t resist.

There were no spasms. No last cries. No signs of pain. The faces, dozens of them, smiled serenely, almost joyfully, as they were pulled inward, as if they were grateful for the end.

“Ugh… that’s disgusting…” Rashia choked out, dropping to a crouch and covering her mouth, eyes wide as the horror unfolded in front of her.

“What the hell’s going on? What is that thing?!” Wilhelm shouted, rushing to Rashia’s side.

Shin stepped forward, placing himself between them and the ominous black sphere.

The Pecker Hollow didn’t last much longer. Within seconds, its grotesque form had entirely vanished into the void.

Then the ground lurched.

“Whoa?!”

“Ku?!”

They staggered, barely keeping their footing as the earth trembled beneath them. A low rumble filled the air—deep, almost alive.

Then, without warning, pillars of purple light burst skyward from all across the Wraith Plains.

The beams shimmered as they climbed into the night, each one rising from a spot where a Skullface had fallen. It was as if the battlefield itself were exhaling, releasing the souls of the dead into the heavens.

“It’s… beautiful,” Rashia breathed, her voice hushed in awe.

For a moment, the scene held them. The light, the silence, it was otherworldly. If not for the black sphere pulsing nearby, Shin might’ve let himself admire it too.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t look away for long.

His eyes flicked toward his map. The red marker, the one that had appeared when the sphere emerged, was fading.

“What… is this?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Still watching the sphere, Shin activated Farsight, narrowing his focus on the area where the red marker had been. The skill sharpened his vision, pulling the distance closer.

Scattered across the plains were Gel Bisons and Einu Jackals, their monstrous forms glowing faintly. From their bodies, thin streams of violet light rose into the sky, curling upward like smoke. It looked eerily similar to how undead monsters dissolved when defeated in the game.

Then, just like that, they began to fade.

Their forms unraveled, blurring at the edges until they drifted apart, dissolving into the night air. The glowing strands of light arched through the sky, then bent, pulled toward the sphere.

Drawn in. Devoured.

“It’s absorbing mana,” Wilhelm said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing.

“Mana?” Rashia repeated, confusion knitting her brow.

“Yeah. That light’s the mana that keeps the undead going,” Wilhelm said tersely. “Once it’s gone, they can’t hold their form. They just… vanish.”

“I see,” Shin murmured, eyes narrowing.

Moments later, the last traces of mana floating in the air were drawn into the black sphere. It began to rise, slowly, until it hovered roughly ten mels above the ground.

Then it stopped.

A dense, inky aura spread from its surface, rippling outward like a wave. It started to take shape; bones formed first, unnaturally large and twisted, the silhouette unmistakably that of a Skullface, but massive. Enormous. A skeletal frame easily dwarfing any they’d encountered before.

Black armor wrapped around the bones, forming with eerie precision. The space between armor and skeleton pulsed with swirling energy, thick and unnatural in its malevolence.

It happened in seconds, and then it stood before them.

A towering Skullface, easily ten mels tall. Its armor was covered in intricate designs, impossible patterns that seemed etched by some unholy force. Were it not for the bleached skull grinning beneath the helm, one might have mistaken it for a noble knight.

There was no question about it. That aura, dark, suffocating, seething, left no doubt. This thing was undead.

The group stood frozen, tension crackling between them.

Then, with a flicker, twin flames sparked to life in the creature’s hollow eye sockets.

Skullface Lord, Level 804.

The name and level floated in Shin’s vision, courtesy of his Analyze X skill. He inhaled sharply.

Level 804.

No mistake. This wasn’t just a strong enemy; this was a disaster waiting to happen.

“Level 804…” he muttered under his breath. “Is this… a dungeon boss?”

Wilhelm’s head snapped toward him. “Wait, what? Did you just say Level 804?! Are you serious?!”

“No mistake,” Shin said grimly.

Rashia’s face went pale. “That’s… That’s the kind of monster that wipes out entire nations…”

“Kuruuu!” Yuzuha growled low, fur bristling as her body tensed, ready to defend.

The number hung heavy in the air like an impossible threat. One glance was enough to leave both Wilhelm and Rashia visibly shaken.

Since the Day of Fallen Glory five centuries ago, when once-thriving cities were reduced to dust, no monster outside the cursed “Holy Land” had ever reached this level.

The Holy Land, once a proud city, had long since rotted into a demonic capital. Even its most powerful monsters, recorded in the deepest annals of history, had never surpassed level 600. And those monsters alone had destroyed entire nations.

Yet now… this.

“There’s a seal, right?” Rashia asked, her voice barely holding steady. “It can’t get out… right?”

Shin didn’t answer immediately. “Who knows,” he said at last, guarded.

As if answering her fear directly, the lord moved.

The towering creature bent its massive arms, each one as thick as a tree trunk and easily several mels long. Its bony fingers curled into a fist. With a deep, grinding motion, it crouched slightly, then rocketed its fist skyward.

The impact came with a sharp, bone-dry crack. Above them, something shattered, something unseen.

Fragments of magical energy burst apart like shards of glass, glittering in the air as mana scattered like stardust. The sky above them shimmered, then cleared.

The seal was gone.

“Well,” Wilhelm muttered, jaw clenched. “So much for the seal.”

“Yeah,” Shin said, eyes still on the drifting remnants of broken magic. “That last punch annihilated it.”

“No… No way…” Rashia breathed and dropped to her knees. Her gaze was locked on the empty sky where the barrier had once been. That seal had been built to contain even legendary-class threats.

It hadn’t lasted ten seconds.

Then the lord’s gaze fell upon them.

It had no eyes. But that didn’t matter. They felt it, like a tidal wave of pressure crashing down on them.

Wilhelm stiffened. “It’s looking right at us.”

“Yeah,” Shin replied quietly. There was no doubt. They were its target now.

Wilhelm didn’t wait. He moved quickly, hoisting Rashia into his arms. Her entire body was trembling, her face drained of color.

Then came the roar.

“GRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

It tore through the plains like a physical force, the sound alone enough to make their knees buckle.

The deafening, guttural bellow hit like a physical blow. The air itself seemed to shudder beneath the weight of its voice.

Shin instinctively braced himself. Yuzuha curled into a tight ball atop his shoulder, ears flattened. Wilhelm dropped to one knee, gritting his teeth. Rashia clutched her ears, face twisted in pain.

“Damn it!” Wilhelm growled. “It’s not letting us run, is it?!”

“No, it’s worse!” Shin shouted. “Look around!”

Even as he spoke, the ground around them buckled and cracked. White skeletal arms shot upward, clawing through the dirt. One after another, bony fingers dug into the soil, pulling entire bodies out of the earth.

Skullfaces.

Cruelly, not just any Skullfaces, these were warriors.

Jack-class. Queen-class. Even the towering King-class monsters emerged, each wrapped in rusted armor and exuding pure malice. The King-class alone, standing nearly eight mels tall, was a nightmare capable of leveling a town.

It wasn’t just a handful. It was hundreds.

Maybe more.

All around them, the field had transformed into a waking nightmare, an undead army clawing its way into the world. Their black auras churned together, forming a thick, oppressive mist that swallowed the land in shadow.

It wasn’t just here.

Shin could see them across the plains. Everywhere. The Wraith Plains had become a battlefield. They were surrounded, utterly hemmed in.

“Wil! What do we do?! Tell me, Wil!” Rashia cried, panic cracking her voice as she clung to him.

“Calm down!” Wilhelm barked, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Losing it won’t help!” He turned toward Shin. “Hey! We’re busting through this horde. We make a run for it, now!”

“No,” Shin said, voice like steel. “I’m staying.”

Wilhelm whipped around to face him. “What?! Are you out of your damn mind?! You trying to get yourself killed?!”

Agitated by Shin’s unnervingly calm response, Wilhelm grabbed his shoulder, trying to pull him around. Yet Shin didn’t budge, standing as immovable as a mountain.

Then, quietly but deliberately, Shin released his Limiters.

“Whoa—?!” Wilhelm stumbled back, his eyes wide.

“Ah!” Rashia yelped as the torrent of raw energy surged outward from Shin, washing over them like a tidal wave. Both stared at him, stunned.

“I can’t leave this thing as it is,” Shin said, his tone calm but resolute. “I’ll carve out an opening. You two head for the kingdom through the path I make.”

“This power… Who are you?” Wilhelm muttered, disbelief in his voice.

“There’s no time to explain. Besides, I’ve got my own reasons for staying behind. I don’t want to drag you into it, so get as far away as you can.”

As he spoke, Shin began gathering mana into his hands. The sheer density of the power crackling around him left Wilhelm momentarily speechless.

“Tch… Fine,” Wilhelm grunted, clicking his tongue in frustration. “I’ll take Rashia and that fox with me. You want me to grab anything from the base?”

“No need. There’s nothing I can’t replace.”

“Got it. But when you come back, you’re telling me everything!” Wilhelm snapped.

“I will. I’ll even throw in a speed buff, just don’t trip, all right?”

“Hah! Who do you think you’re talking to?!” Wilhelm retorted, though his sharp tone softened as he tried to pry Yuzuha off Shin. “Hey, this fox won’t let go!”

“Ah— Ow, ow, ow! Yuzuha! Stop clinging to me!” Shin winced as Yuzuha whined and clawed at him, desperately holding on.

“Ku! Ku!” Yuzuha cried, her voice filled with distress, as though she were protesting being left behind.

“What now?” Wilhelm asked, glancing between the struggling pair.

“Yuzuha…” Shin murmured, his expression softening as he looked at her.

Through telepathy, Shin felt Yuzuha’s emotions, a powerful, unyielding desire not to be separated from him.

“Fine. You can stay. But don’t you dare leave my side, got it?” Shin said, exhaling in resignation.

“Ku!” Yuzuha chirped eagerly from atop his head, her determination unmistakable.

“You done talking? Then hurry up already,” Wilhelm snapped impatiently.

“Yeah, sorry to keep you waiting! Let’s do this!” Shin replied, springing into action.

He cast a buff on Wilhelm, then aimed a powerful magic skill in the direction of their base.

Lightning-type Magic Skill Lightning Bunker.

Two massive bolts of lightning, each several mels wide, roared through the Skullface horde, reducing dozens of them to ash in an instant. Keeping the skill active, Shin spread his arms wide, directing the arcs of electricity to carve an opening through the encirclement.

“Go!” Shin shouted.

At his signal, Wilhelm kicked off the ground, his legs empowered by Shin’s buff. The force of his movement left afterimages as he dashed through the breach Shin had created.

“Waaaahhhhhh!” Rashia’s terrified scream trailed behind them, but it quickly faded into the distance as Wilhelm’s speed carried them away.

Being near the edge of the seal’s boundary, Wilhelm’s augmented strength would likely propel them outside the encirclement in no time.

Spears and swords hurled by the remaining Skullfaces whistled through the air, but Wilhelm deflected them with Venom without breaking stride, maintaining his relentless pace.

“They’re gone,” Shin muttered as Wilhelm and Rashia’s figures disappeared from sight.

“Ku!” Yuzuha chirped in response, her ears twitching.

With their escape assured, Shin deactivated Lightning Bunker. By then, dozens of Skullfaces lay destroyed, their remains smoldering in the wake of his attack. Yet, as soon as the skill ended, the openings he had created were quickly filled by the countless other Skullfaces pressing forward.

Now, Shin faced the Skullface Lord, flanked by an army of Jack-class, Queen-class, and King-class Skullfaces too numerous to count. The lord, exuding a terrifying aura, remained fixated on Shin, completely ignoring the fleeing Wilhelm and Rashia. The name Skullface Lord was unfamiliar to Shin. It was a wholly unknown monster with a level exceeding 800, an alarming anomaly. However, Shin knew better than to judge its power solely by its level.

Facing an unknown opponent also meant the chance of discovering something, either a clue, an item, or even information, that could be crucial for Shin’s return to his original world. For that reason, fleeing was never an option for him.

“Well then, I guess it’s my turn to get started,” Shin muttered.

“Ku!” Yuzuha let out a determined cry, her voice resonating with courage as she perched atop his head.

Feeling emboldened by her presence, Shin gripped his katana tightly and charged into the horde of Skullfaces. What followed could only be described as a massacre.

Bones shattered, swords splintered, and armor was reduced to little more than lumps of mangled iron that fell uselessly to the ground. The earth beneath their feet was scarred with deep fissures, not caused by magic, but carved by the sheer force of Shin’s blade.

“Shhh!”

Without even activating a skill, Shin swung his katana in a wide arc. That single stroke cleaved through over ten Skullfaces, splitting their cores in two and dissolving them into mana. The destroyed swords and armor were mere collateral damage.

Under the pale moonlight, each arc of Shin’s blade created a breathtaking spectacle, as if castles of sand were crumbling with every strike. The Skullfaces fell one after another. Even the King-class Skullfaces, which would normally require dozens of adventurers and countless sacrifices to defeat, were little more than sturdy wooden dolls in this battle. Shin cut through them as effortlessly as mowing grass, methodical yet unstoppable.

“Kuoooooo!”

Shin wasn’t the only one attacking. From her perch atop his head, Yuzuha unleashed blue-white flames from her mouth, incinerating enemies and leaving only ash. The flames were the result of a Monster-exclusive Skill Foxfire. For an Element Tail like Yuzuha, the flames burned with a distinctive blue hue. Though the skill was challenging for Yuzuha in her current state, her true form, when she reached level 1000 as a fully grown Element Tail, would wield a multitude of attacks using her tails.

Each of an Element Tail’s tails was connected to a specific element: fire, water, earth, wind, lightning, light, and darkness, along with physical and divine skills. For an opponent, fighting an Element Tail was akin to battling multiple enemies at once.

Yuzuha’s single tail seemed to specialize in divine magic, enhancing her Foxfire. Although it wasn’t a skill available to players, Shin could deduce its capabilities based on the impressions Yuzuha conveyed to him.

“Man, there’s no end to them,” Shin muttered as he sliced through yet another wave.

“Ku,” Yuzuha agreed.

Shin and Yuzuha had already defeated over a hundred Skullfaces, yet they had barely moved from their position. The sheer number of enemies, combined with their enormous size, meant that the next wave of monsters instantly filled any gaps created by their defeats. It felt like digging through sand with bare hands; every handful removed was quickly replaced by more, making the effort seem endless and futile.

The Skullface Lord, seemingly the boss, had retreated to the center of the Wraith Plains after summoning his massive army. The plains stretched several dozen kemels from one end to the other, and since Shin was positioned near the edge, the lord was well beyond his line of sight.

Whether the lord’s retreat was a ploy to wear down Shin’s stamina or part of some other scheme, Shin couldn’t tell. Nevertheless, he kept swinging his blade, cutting down Skullfaces with relentless precision, while Yuzuha continued to unleash her blue-white flames. Amid the sea of black aura staining the plains, only the area surrounding Shin remained clear, the earth visible like an island in a dark tide.

“Don’t push yourself too hard, all right?” Shin said, his voice calm and steady despite the chaos.

“Ku!” Yuzuha responded enthusiastically, her determination unwavering.

To an observer, the pair might have appeared to be on the brink of being engulfed by the dark, turbulent waters. However, their playful banter, oddly out of place for such a grave circumstance, stood in stark contrast to the reality around them.

Even as they spoke, Shin’s strikes continued to cut through the Skullfaces, pushing back the dark tide. His slashes were so precise and relentless that no enemy nearby could even dream of breaking through.

Although most of the Skullfaces moved with the precision and grace of master swordsmen like the one Wilhelm had fought, at best, they could only buy themselves fleeting moments. The disparity in power was so vast that it almost seemed pitiful.

“This isn’t working. Their spawning range is too wide,” Shin muttered.

He had been using his detection skills alongside his strikes, gathering information about the area around him. His flashy attacks had attracted most of the Skullfaces on the plains, but some had slipped past and were heading beyond them. Among them were signals indicating King-class Skullfaces.

If this persisted, the surrounding areas could face considerable casualties.

“Time to go big. Hang on tight!” Shin called, gripping his katana tightly.

“Ku!” Yuzuha replied, bracing herself.

Shin wielded his katana, Red Thousand Birds, with fresh power, sending the nearby Skullfaces flying in every direction like leaves caught in a tempest.

Seizing the cleared space, Shin gripped a new weapon in his left hand while transitioning his right hand, which held Red Thousand Birds, into a throwing stance.

Lightning surged through Red Thousand Birds’ blade, far more intense than before. The crimson bolts coiling around the blade emitted a radiant light so bright it seemed the weapon itself was glowing. Occasionally, a faint, metallic groaning could be heard—the sound of the blade crying out beneath the immense magical power being channeled into it.

Shin’s enhanced stats had pushed even the legendary-tier weapon to its limits, as it was unable to fully withstand his overwhelming mana. The Skullfaces seemed instinctively aware of the dense magical energy swirling around him, hesitating to approach any closer.

This moment of hesitation gave Shin the precious seconds he needed to prepare his next move.

Swordsmanship and Lightning Composite Skill Swallow’s Flight - Thunder Slash.

A combination of martial and magical abilities, this powerful skill was unleashed with a single, forceful throw of Red Thousand Birds.

Fueled by Shin’s superhuman strength, the katana sliced through the air, creating shockwaves as it moved. The crimson lightning surrounding the blade expanded outward like serpentine tendrils, incinerating any Skullfaces in its path, leaving only ash behind.

The scene appeared like a Hydra, with crimson lightning surging through the dark sea of enemies, consuming them as though the Skullfaces were eagerly jumping into its jaws.

Once Red Thousand Birds finished its flight, it created a trail over 10 mels wide behind it. The ground had been carved and burned by shockwaves and lightning, resulting in a large, smoldering trench.

Without wasting a moment, Shin sprinted down the newly carved path, making a beeline for the Skullface Lord at the center of the plains.

His goal was clear: either defeat the lord or destroy the dungeon core to end the chaos. Shin reasoned that either should stop the endless waves of enemies.

If Schnee were here, this could’ve been handled differently. There was no point in dwelling on what wasn’t available. He needed to focus on what he could do now.

Shin shifted his mindset, drawing the weapon he had gripped in his left hand as he sprinted forward, unsheathing it. With the massive blade resting on his shoulder, he surged ahead with unwavering determination.

In his hand was a Mythology-class odachi named Vampiric Rippleblade. Its name was derived from Japan’s greatest odachi, a weapon of unparalleled craftsmanship and legend.

Including the hilt, the odachi exceeded three mels in length. Its blade shimmered in the moonlight, reflecting its brilliance as if banishing the surrounding darkness. For some, its name might evoke the legendary Nenekirimaru.

The Vampiric Rippleblade, however, had extraordinary anti-undead capabilities. Its immense blade featured both devastating power and a range rivaling that of a spear, making it a formidable weapon against the Skullfaces.

“Ha!” Shin exhaled as he made a simple horizontal swing.

However, the outcome was anything but straightforward. An unprecedented number of Skullfaces were sent flying, far exceeding anything Shin had accomplished previously.

The Vampiric Rippleblade was crafted for players who possessed a minimum STR stat of 800, necessitating tremendous strength to wield it properly. Its blade was exceptionally sharp, capable of severing the head of a low-level dragon merely by allowing its own weight to strike down.

In Shin’s hands, whose strength surpassed even the limits of max-level players, the odachi’s destructive power was incomprehensible. The blade cut through the air, creating shockwaves that reduced everything around it to splinters. The Skullfaces had no means to resist. Against such overwhelming force, their existence became irrelevant; they were swept aside like debris caught in a storm, an earthquake, or a flood. At this moment, Shin was that unstoppable force.

The slow, steady pace of progress had once seemed like a distant memory. Now, Shin surged toward the Skullface Lord with relentless speed. Although Skullfaces filled the gaps created by Swallow’s Flight - Thunder Slash, they couldn’t even delay him. The roaring sound of his blade accompanied each swing, scattering the enemies into fragments.

“Scatter!” Shin bellowed, activating an additional magic skill for good measure.

This time, it was the Wind-type Magic Skill Air Bullet that fired compressed masses of air in a chosen direction. Ordinarily, this skill was strong enough to bring down small flying monsters, but in Shin’s hands, it was anything but ordinary.

The air bullets, measuring over two mels in size, shot in all directions, effortlessly sending heavily armored Skullfaces flying. They resembled bowling pins thrown by an unseen force rather than the terrifying undead creatures they were. Any hint of threat they once possessed was utterly destroyed.

As Shin approached the center of the plains, the number of Skullfaces converging on him continued to grow. His map display showed the area around him filling with red markers, the enemy density so overwhelming that counting them was impossible.

The white marker representing Shin moved steadily forward, carving a path through the crimson tide on his map. With his unwavering focus and relentless attacks, Shin continued his charge toward the Skullface Lord.

In the back of Shin’s mind lingered the image of the sphere that had absorbed the Pecker Hollow. The Skullface Lord born from that core was undeniably powerful, but its ability to enhance and respawn subordinate monsters wasn’t particularly rare for a boss monster.

By the standards of this world, it likely posed a perilous threat. However, Shin had faced even larger challenges before. That experience kept him cautious as he swung his odachi, his thoughts racing. Could this truly be an enemy he could defeat easily?

Staying alert never hurts.

Even as he methodically annihilated enemies, Shin kept some strength in reserve. His stats had grown far beyond their limits from his gaming days, granting him the luxury of leaving some energy in reserve. Yet he knew all too well that quantity could sometimes overwhelm quality.

Maxed-out stats didn’t make Shin invincible or immortal. If he were to be killed, that would mark the end.

“—!!!”

A deafening roar echoed across the plains. The high-pitched, almost ultrasonic wail signaled a new wave of hands emerging from the ground. The source of the roar was none other than the Skullface Lord.

The endless waves of Skullfaces were clearly connected to this ability. Every time the roar sounded, more of the undead clawed their way out of the earth.

“Again,” Shin muttered, his tone tinged with frustration. Although the roar's proximity indicated he was drawing closer to its source, the overwhelming number of enemies was becoming increasingly exhausting. The urge to unleash a wide-area destruction magic grew stronger within him, but he restrained himself. He couldn’t risk using such a powerful spell recklessly.

In this world, magic skills didn’t have the same range or power as in the game; they were much greater. With Shin’s current stats, even the basic fire magic skills he’d learned early on could easily match the potency of mid-level spells. If he miscalculated and used a high-tier wide-area magic skill, the destruction could be catastrophic.

Accidentally destroying an entire forest wasn’t something he could easily laugh off.

If I were alone here, I could’ve taken a different approach…

Shin glanced at the green marker on his map—a symbol indicating a neutral entity, like another player or NPC. The marker confirmed he wasn’t the only one here.

Adjusting his focus, Shin activated the fire-type magic skill Inferno Flame.

Flames roared around him, their intense heat pushing back the advancing horde. Meanwhile, Shin kept a vigilant watch on the green marker. It wasn’t an enemy, nor was it an ally, but someone else was present amid this chaos.

Countless fireballs appeared above Shin’s head, raining down on the Skullfaces surrounding him and the green marker. The fireballs didn’t blow up; instead, they released intense heat the moment they hit their targets, disappearing immediately afterward. The Skullfaces hit by the fireballs were filled with holes before disintegrating into ash.

Because the fireballs didn’t scatter flames or produce clouds of dirt from explosions, there was little risk of collateral damage, and they maintained remarkable accuracy even over long distances.

“This isn’t good,” Shin muttered.

Although the massive bodies of the surrounding Skullfaces blocked his view, the green marker's movements indicated that whoever it was had been holding their ground, supported by Shin. Luckily, the Skullfaces swarming the green marker were in the lower 300s in level, on the weaker end of the enhanced undead.

Unfortunately, a group of Skullfaces surpassing level 500 was closing in from behind them. Even with Shin’s magic skills helping, the distance was too great for him to provide perfect support. Shin’s expanded sensory range, a result of his mastered skill combinations, was the only reason he noticed the danger ahead of time.

If only I could fly.

In The New Gate, where no flight skills existed, he could only “jump,” not “fly.” Closing the gap quickly wasn’t an option.

“Why are they coming this way? Haven’t they heard the roars?” Shin muttered.

Still caught in a whirlwind of slashes, he changed his direction toward the green marker. Whoever they were, he didn’t know them, but abandoning them wasn’t an option.

“Ku?” Yuzuha chirped inquisitively, as if to ask, “Are we helping them?”

“They’d better not die before we get there,” Shin replied curtly, sweeping aside nearby enemies with another magic skill.

The red markers representing Skullfaces blinked out one after another, only for new ones to quickly emerge from the ground and replace them.

“Tch, come on! Make it in time!” Shin growled as he channeled mana into his hands.

Just as Shin was about to unleash another magic skill, a bright blue lightning bolt flashed in his line of sight.

The thunderous bolt was unmistakable; it was Lightning Bunker, the same lightning magic Shin had used to help Wilhelm and Rashia escape earlier. The lightning zipped past the green marker, narrowly missing it, yet precisely striking the Skullfaces around it. Not a single scratch marred the green marker; the magic’s destructive power was entirely directed at the enemies, wiping them out with ruthless efficiency.

Shin’s focus fixed on the new marker, its color, and the name shown next to it.

The marker was blue, signaling an ally. The name was Schnee Raizar.

Part 3

The blue marker, Schnee, was moving toward the green marker. Likely telling them to leave, the green marker soon started retreating from the plains. With the neutral figure gone, Schnee changed her course, heading straight for Shin.

Her speed wasn’t quite on par with Shin’s, but any Skullface that got in her way was dispatched instantly. Meanwhile, Shin also moved toward Schnee, cutting down the approaching Skullfaces as he went. However, his steps felt heavier than usual.

Even though the letter from Tiera hinted that Schnee might remember him, the idea of actually meeting her made him strangely nervous. In the game, Schnee had only been an NPC, and beyond scripted interactions, there had been no meaningful communication. Her affection level, as part of the game mechanics, was maxed out, but Shin had no idea how that might affect her personality now.

He had abandoned the shop and stayed out of contact for five hundred years, so Shin couldn’t guess Schnee's current opinion of him. She could be angry or resentful, and she would have every right to feel that way.

Despite his internal struggle, the gap between them quickly shrank.

Amid the swarm of black skeletons, the two finally reunited. For some reason, the Skullfaces seemed to hesitate as their movements suddenly stopped. Although they tried to press on, it was as if an invisible wall blocked their way, keeping them at a distance.

Shin, always alert, quickly identified this anomaly. Before he could respond, a gentle pat on his forehead stopped him. Based on his thoughts, it appeared Yuzuha had raised a barrier to keep the enemies away.

The barrier wouldn’t hold for long, but Shin hadn’t intended to stay anyway.

“Thanks,” Shin muttered, expressing his gratitude through their telepathic link.

“No problem,” came Yuzuha’s cheerful reply, brimming with an almost uncanny understanding of the situation.

After their brief exchange, Shin refocused on Schnee, prepared for whatever was coming next.

Her silver hair gently swayed in the breeze as Schnee looked straight at Shin.

Looking at her, Shin’s first thought was a simple one: She hasn’t changed. Her radiant silver hair, her translucent blue eyes, even the clothes she wore. None of it was different from when they had parted ways.

“Have you been well?” he asked, breaking the silence.

After mulling over countless words in his mind, that single, awkward sentence was all he could say. Even he thought it sounded clumsy. He had assumed that once the game was over, he would never see her again.

In the game, Schnee had been his longest companion and the character he had grown most attached to. With the VR technology so immersive, she’d felt no different from a real person, at least to a casual observer. Maybe that was why he’d sometimes fantasized about how incredible it would be if, like in some sci-fi story, she had AI advanced enough for genuine conversations.

Schnee remained silent in response.

Her eyes shimmered, her lips pressed into a tight line as if she were desperately holding something back. Tears glistened in her eyes, but she valiantly kept them from falling. Seeing her like this, Shin panicked.

“Schnee…” he began, her name barely leaving his lips before a flash of silver streaked toward him.

“Ugh?!”

Schnee held him tightly, and Shin staggered from the blow, far stronger than he expected. Her stats, which had always been exceptional even among support characters, weren’t just for show.

It took every ounce of his strength to avoid crying out a clichéd “Guhhh!” as the force crushed his ribs. Somehow, he managed to endure it.

“S-Schnee?” he stammered.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” she demanded.

Shin’s spine arched with the pressure of her grip, and his mind raced to find something to say. What could he possibly say, surrounded as they were by enemies?

“Uh… I’m sorry for leaving you behind all this time— Gah?!”

Her arms clenched tighter, causing an audible crack in his bones.

“Wrong.”

“O-Okay! Thanks for keeping the shop safe for— Owww!!”

The pressure increased again, and Shin could almost feel his spine pleading for mercy.

“Wrong again.”

Not an apology, not gratitude. So, what was it then? What hadn’t he said?

Shin frantically racked his brain.

He replayed everything that had happened since he’d come to this world, and his thoughts naturally focused on the Moon Sanctum, the treasured place Schnee had protected all these years—a place they had once all shared.

Ah… I see now.

A rueful chuckle escaped him. How had he missed something so obvious? In the game, these words would never be spoken. But here and now, they were the only thing he had to say. After leaving the shop, disappearing for so long, and finally coming back, there was only one thing to say first.

“I’m home.”

“Welcome back,” Schnee replied.

Part 4

I’m home.

Hearing those words, Schnee released Shin from her tight hold. Her tears had stopped, replaced by the calm expression Shin was so familiar with.

“I thought you’d never come back,” she said softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again either,” Shin admitted.

After completing the death game, the Moon Sanctum, as well as Schnee and the other support characters, were supposed to be erased along with the game’s data. Without a “real” version of Schnee in the outside world, they were never meant to meet again.

Even though Schnee was just an NPC, only able to respond with programmed lines, their farewell had been much more painful than Shin had expected.

Expressing those feelings in words was challenging.

It wasn’t love, romance, or friendship.

More than data, but not quite human. That was the closest Shin could get to describing it, though even he couldn’t fully understand the complexity of his emotions.

“Kyuu,” came a deflated sound, breaking the somber moment.

Shin looked up to see Yuzuha limply sprawled on his head, her strength clearly drained. It seemed she had reached her limit holding the barrier in place. As soon as it broke, Shin saw the Skullfaces rush toward them again.

“As much as I’d love to catch up,” Shin said, turning back to Schnee, “we should probably deal with this mess first.”

“You’re right. I got a little carried away with the reunion,” Schnee admitted with a small smile.

“Ku,” Yuzuha whimpered from atop Shin’s head, her tone practically saying, “The rest is up to you…”

Shin chuckled at her worn-out acceptance before refocusing on the approaching Skullfaces. Schnee did the same.

“How about we start with something big to make an impression?” Shin suggested with a mischievous grin.

“Let’s. I happen to have just the thing,” Schnee replied, her serene smile unwavering as she raised her hand toward the sky.

“Let purity manifest,” she intoned.

“Let eternity manifest,” Shin echoed.

They were invoking a divine skill, one that was reserved exclusively for cooperative use. It required at least two players or support characters to activate.

Its name was…

“Sanctuary of Light!”

Their chant dissolved into the darkness, and almost immediately, its effects became visible across the entire plains. High above, a colossal magic circle spread across the night sky.

This was a combined skill executed by Shin and Schnee, two combatants unmatched in this world. Its power far surpassed anything an average magic user could achieve.

Before the Skullfaces could close in on them, a brilliant light poured down from the sky.

The purifying light, intended to remove all impurity, pierced the darkness, illuminating the earth and ruthlessly destroying the writhing masses below. The brilliance was so intense it temporarily drove away the night, as if the sun itself had risen.

“Aaahhhhh…” came the garbled cries of the Skullfaces.

Though the exact pace of their decline differed among individuals, most of the undead faded into shimmering mana, their forms disappearing completely.

The Skullface Lord, however, managed to endure. Its guttural, displeased growls echoed across the plains. Yet even as it summoned more Skullfaces to its aid, the light eradicated the new arrivals the moment they emerged from the ground.

Unlike in the game, where such skills would fade after a few seconds, the magic circle above remained steady, shining its powerful yet gentle light down on the earth below. In this state, it was unlikely the Skullfaces could operate effectively at all.

Shin’s map display showed the effect. Red markers indicating enemies were cleared, revealing the untouched field below.

“Well, now that the nuisances are gone, it’s time to deal with the real culprit,” Shin declared.

“Do you know the cause of this phenomenon, Master?” Schnee asked, her gaze fixed.

“Yeah. A monster called the Skullface Lord. It’s my first time seeing one, though. Do you know anything about it?”

“No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Shin had hoped Schnee, after spending so much time in this world, might have some insight. But it seemed even she did not know anything about this monster.

With the horde of Skullfaces eliminated, nothing now stood between them and the lord. After quickly checking their gear, they broke into a run toward their target. Yuzuha, fully healed thanks to the healing powers of Sanctuary of Light, perched alertly on top of Shin’s head, vigilantly watching their surroundings.

Shin would have preferred to give Schnee Azure Moon but since he’d left it with Tiera, he gave her a pair of powerful ninja blades and a short wakizashi instead.

Schnee’s main role was as the female counterpart of the ninja, a Kunoichi, but weapon restrictions by class did not apply to her. While most support characters for ordinary players could skillfully use only two or three weapon types at most, Schnee, being Shin’s support character, was knowledgeable in numerous weapons.

With a ninja blade in her right hand and a wakizashi in her left, Schnee sprinted alongside Shin.

“There it is,” Shin said as the two sped across the plains with overwhelming pace, finally reaching the Skullface Lord.

Battered by the intense light still pouring down, the lord knelt on one knee, its black armor cracked in several places, with plumes of mana rising from its body. Its HP gauge hovered around the halfway point, a testament to the devastating effectiveness of Shin and Schnee’s cooperative divine skill, which had exploited its weakness to holy magic.

“Grrr…” it growled, its sunken gaze locking onto Shin and Schnee. The ghostly fire burning within its skull radiated malice, an ominous glow refusing to fade despite its grievous condition.

“At over level 800, it’s no wonder this thing’s still exerting pressure,” Shin muttered, feeling the intense weight of its presence.

“There are plenty of things I’d like to ask it,” he added, narrowing his eyes, “but it doesn’t seem like it’s in the mood for talking.”

Although Shin didn’t really expect the creature to talk, he was curious because this monster wasn’t in the original game. As he watched its form, he wondered if it might hold an important clue or piece of information.

Though battered and broken, the Skullface Lord’s appearance resembled a more refined and imposing version of the King-class Skullface. From the details gathered using Analyze, all Shin could confirm was that it was indeed an advanced variant of the Skullface.

“In any case, it’s an enemy that must be defeated,” Schnee stated confidently.

“Yeah… Let’s go,” Shin replied.

“Understood.”

Acknowledging Schnee’s words, Shin charged at the lord, who was already bracing itself for their attack. In its hands was a massive black greatsword, seemingly drawn from nowhere. With a powerful horizontal swing, the lord attempted to cut through the approaching duo.

Shin charged ahead, confronting the attack directly with his odachi.

The sudden burst of speed, combined with the weight of his blade and his immense strength, led to a devastating clash. The odachi struck the flat of the lord’s sword, sending it flying with a loud crash that echoed like colliding steel beams. The force of the impact almost ripped the greatsword out of the lord’s grip, causing its upper part to jerk backward, exposing its torso.

Schnee wasted no time. With both blades in her hands, she moved quickly toward the vulnerable target.

Her skillful strike was the Swordsmanship-type Martial Skill Crushing Blade. Highly effective against enemies with resistance to slashing attacks, the skill used the Mythology-class ninja blades Azure Blaze and the wakizashi Crimson Flame, their fiery blue and red trails slicing through the air in striking arcs. Each swing further cracked the lord’s armor, exposing its inner core.

Beneath the shattered armor was a black, tar-like substance, pulsing ominously as if it had a will of its own. The moment the armor broke, the black tendrils surged toward Schnee, stretching as though alive.

“!”

Sensing danger, Schnee stopped her pursuit. She blocked the approaching tendrils with both blades, quickly retreating beyond their reach.

“Tentacles… It’s like that Gel Bison,” Shin muttered, recognizing the attack.

The writhing tendrils coming from the Skullface Lord reminded him of the Gel Bison he’d encountered on the plains. It had also been dissolved into mana, absorbed by the mysterious sphere.

Does it have access to all the abilities it’s absorbed? It was a theory he desperately hoped wouldn’t prove true.

Undead monsters often shared similar traits, relying on their endurance to overpower their foes. Few had unique abilities like the Gel Bison. What truly unsettled Shin, however, was knowing that the Pecker Hollow had been absorbed among the other monsters.

“No holding back,” Shin muttered.

After confirming Schnee had retreated, he focused his mana into his left hand. In the next instant, a surge of crimson flames burst from his palm, rushing toward the Skullface Lord.

The spell he cast, Fire-type Magic Skill Flare Volcano, was released without any incantation. The inferno surged across several dozen mels instantly, engulfing the immobilized lord entirely.

Bathed in both the purifying light of Sanctuary of Light and the blazing crimson flames, the lord was annihilated before it could even scream. All that was left was a molten trail of scorched earth, its surface turned into bubbling slag from the intense heat.

“Is it over?” Shin asked aloud.

He had intended for the spell to finish the job, but something about how easily the lord fell left him uneasy. Schnee, apparently sharing his suspicion, kept her guard up and didn’t lower her stance.

Resting Vampiric Rippleblade on his shoulder, Shin activated his detection skills to their maximum. The intense combat had filled the air with mana, enabling him to sense flows of energy he hadn’t noticed before.

That was when he sensed something unnatural: the mana from the defeated Skullfaces wasn’t dissipating into the air but was instead being absorbed by the ground. It wasn’t just one or two; nearly all of the defeated monsters’ mana was being pulled downward.

“It’s below us!” Shin shouted.

The moment he looked at the ground, a violent tremor shook the area around them. At the same time, a new red marker appeared on Shin’s map. Small at first, it quickly grew until it surpassed the size of the Skullface Lord.

“Master,” Schnee said, her tone steady yet tense.

“Yeah. Looks like this is the real deal,” Shin replied.

From beneath the earth, a black sphere burst upward, breaking through the surface with a menacing pulse. Unlike the one they had seen before, this sphere was now streaked with red, vein-like lines, beating rhythmically as if it were a living heart.

“So, that thing was just a husk,” Shin muttered, the realization dawning on him.

It all made sense now. The lord had been nothing more than a decoy, a discarded shell. The true entity had used the distraction to draw mana from the plains, gathering its strength for this moment.

After the sphere appeared, the ground shook even more violently. Huge arms, big enough to crush a King-class Skullface in one grip, began to rise from the earth. When six arms had fully lifted, they seized the ground and pulled the monster's main body into view.

Its head bore twisted horns, its torso seemed like a fusion of countless Skullfaces, and its lower half looked like the armored body of an insect, supported by four pairs of legs. Five tails, resembling a scorpion’s stinger, lashed menacingly behind it.

It was clear that the entity had absorbed the Pecker Hollow’s abilities. Its grotesque form, made up of countless corpses, stretched over twenty mels in length, completely beyond the size of any Skullface they had encountered before.

The black sphere blended smoothly into its large body, and ghostly flames illuminated its empty eye sockets.

“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH────────!!!”

Its roar blasted out like a shockwave, coupled with a powerful rush of wind. While Shin and Schnee stayed calm, the force of the sound could easily have knocked weaker adventurers off their feet.

“So, this is its true form,” Shin remarked grimly.

“It seems so,” Schnee replied, her tone steady.

“In that case, it’s time for us to get serious too.”

Using the shortcut system to instantly switch to his pre-registered gear, Shin equipped the weapons and armor he had once used to challenge Origin.

Deep crimson gauntlets covered his hands, matching greaves protected his legs, and a black long coat billowed around him. A scarf of black fabric, streaked with red lines that resembled lightning, hung loosely around his neck.

His weapon was the ancient-class katana, True Moon, sheathed but ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice. His left thumb lightly rested against the tsuba, poised for a lightning-fast unsheathing.

As his equipment changed, so did the aura around him. Whether it was the result of the gear or Shin’s change in mindset, his presence exuded a powerful sense of dominance, an oppressive force that hadn’t been there earlier.

The new Skullface Lord’s ghostly flames flickered and wavered, the creature visibly rattled by the sheer intensity of Shin’s new presence. The rattling of its bones echoed like a nervous tremor.

“Let’s go,” Shin said simply.

With a soft click, his katana’s guard left the sheath’s notch, and his right hand gripped the hilt.

He activated Ground Shrink, vanishing from his position and instantly reappearing within the lord’s range.

The lord swung four of its arms in response, each grasping massive black greatswords that seemed to condense pure darkness. The force of their movement whipped up gusts of wind, making it clear these weapons were no illusions; they carried immense weight and destructive potential.

The greatswords reached Shin first. The moment they entered his striking range, his katana was drawn from its sheath, and a crimson arc sliced through the air.

Despite warding off all four incoming greatswords, the clash produced only a single, ringing sound. With a decisive slash, Shin deflected every blade threatening him and slipped into the Skullface Lord’s guard.

The lord tried to defend itself with its last two arms. Feeling a threatening chill, it instinctively raised one arm above its head. A metallic crash echoed, followed by a shower of bright sparks.

The source of the strike was Schnee’s Azure Blaze. Her attack, launched from a blind spot, demonstrated the strengths of a ninja, the advanced class of assassin. Reacting to such an ambush was no easy task.

Yet undead monsters, by nature, did not rely on traditional senses. The Skullface Lord, enhanced beyond its original design, had detected the attack through heightened awareness. This strange reaction made Schnee realize how much the lord had deviated from typical Skullface behavior.

“As I thought, this is no ordinary monster,” she murmured.

Using the recoil from the clash to land smoothly, Schnee dodged a counterattack from one of the lord’s scorpion-like tails. She kept analyzing its capabilities as the fight progressed.

The lord’s pursuit of Schnee was half-hearted, its focus occupied by Shin, who had closed within its range. The lord swung one of its remaining arms in an attempt to fend him off, but a single greatsword was no match for Shin’s speed and precision.

With a devastating blow using Crushing Blade, Shin shattered the weapon. The force of the strike sent the lord staggering back several mels.

No longer holding back, Shin’s attacks now used his full, enhanced strength. The resulting power was overwhelming, so much so that even Schnee, who knew his capabilities well, was surprised.

“Shhh!”

Before the lord could regain its footing, Shin pressed the advantage, launching a relentless follow-up attack. The lord crossed its gauntlet-covered arms to shield itself, but the katana’s descending blade cleaved through both arms in one brutal strike. Sparks erupted as the severed limbs clattered to the ground.

“GURUAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

A guttural roar erupted from the lord as four serrated, scorpion-like tails lashed out simultaneously, aiming to skewer Shin from all directions.

Before the tails could get to him, Shin leapt toward the lord, propelling himself through the air with incredible agility.

The Skullface Lord, in a desperate move, swung one of its massive arms at Shin. However, Shin skillfully dodged the blow mid-air, using the Movement-type Martial Skill Flying Shadow, which allowed for a double jump. He closed the gap, aiming for the lord’s torso, the area corresponding to the solar plexus in human anatomy.

At close range, the significant size difference worked in Shin’s favor. This distance put him perfectly within striking range of the area where the Skullface Lord had absorbed its core. Sensing the danger, the lord tried to retreat, but against Shin, who was already poised to strike, it was far too late.

“────!!”

Shin exhaled sharply as he swung his blade down in an arc.

The skill he used was the Swordsmanship-style Martial Skill Mountain Breaker.

Even in mid-air, where it was impossible to leverage full footing, Shin’s strike carried devastating power. A crimson-black slash tore through the air, striking the lord’s left shoulder, slicing through its torso, and severing one of its right legs before carving a deep trench into the ground below.

“GIIIAAAHHH!!!”

The lord emitted a deafening shriek.

Through the gash, Shin caught sight of the core, the black sphere, partially exposed, with about one-fifth of it severed.

“Missed the mark,” Shin muttered.

The core swiftly vanished from sight, retreating deeper into the lord’s body. It appeared the sphere could move freely within its host. Noticing this, Shin quickly adjusted his strategy. He landed on the ground and smoothly shifted into a relentless chase.

With one of its right legs severed, the lord’s balance wavered, making it vulnerable to Shin’s onslaught. His katana struck rapidly, so fast that afterimages followed each swing.

Every strike embodied the power of the Swordsmanship-style Martial Skill Cascade Slash. This skill released multiple random slashes of equal strength to the original strike, forming a relentless onslaught.

The internal structures of the lord, now unarmored, were mercilessly shredded by skill. While Cascade Slash was designed to hit multiple enemies at once, its power increased with the user’s attack strength. For Shin, whose basic hits were already extremely powerful, Cascade Slash surpassed its usual limits, causing area-denial destruction even against a single target.

Coupled with the immense power of an ancient-class weapon, Shin’s attacks had an edge that would have been just as devastating even if the Sanctuary of Light skill hadn’t been active and the lord had been in peak condition.

“GI… AA…”

Each slash unleashed within the lord’s body caused chaos. Already close to death after being hit by Mountain Breaker, the lord no longer had the strength to withstand the assault.

Even its once-threatening scorpion-like tails had been cut off, thanks to Schnee.

As internal pressure increased, the lord’s body started to swell. The unseen extra slashes caused by Cascade Slash kept tearing inside, their energy desperately looking for an escape.

Although the core was nowhere to be seen, Shin hadn’t missed it. Amid the storm of slashes tearing through its torso, there was no longer any safe place. The core’s only refuge was the head.

“This ends now!” Shin declared.

With a ground-shaking leap, he propelled himself upward.

Above the lord, True Moon was held high, its blade surrounded by crimson lightning. The skill he used was the Swordsmanship and Lightning Composite Skill Crescent Moon - Thunder Slash.

First, a blade of red lightning formed and smashed down onto the lord’s head. Then, True Moon, the physical blade, followed through, cleaving through the lord’s skull. The lightning tore into the lord’s interior, ravaging it from within.

Crimson lightning burst from the hollow sockets of the lord’s eyes, snuffing out the ghostly flames that burned there. As the lightning destroyed everything inside the lord’s head, it surged down its neck, scorching its entire massive frame.

Even as its body burned, the lord remained silent.

Shin’s strike cut through the black sphere, the core that had fled to the lord’s skull, destroying it along with the head. The following burst of lightning wiped out any remaining trace.

Without its core, a Skullface would vanish after a brief moment.

Despite its massive frame, the lord did not disappear immediately, as most Skullfaces would. Its body, now reduced to a mere husk, was nothing more than a pile of remains.

As it crumbled, it stretched out its final arm toward Shin.

“Master!” Schnee cried, her voice edged with urgency. Shin, however, remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the lord.

“Wait,” he commanded, raising a hand to halt Schnee as she rushed toward him.

The lord’s imposing presence, once filled with malice and menace, now seemed free of any hostility. Its outstretched hand, reaching toward Shin, appeared less like an attack and more like a desperate effort to grasp something forever beyond reach.

“S… o… o… n…”

The mangled, shattered sounds clearly formed human speech.

Shin’s breath caught.

Moments later, like the other Skullfaces, the lord dissolved into magical particles, its massive body fading into the atmosphere. Left behind was a colossal gemstone, easily fifty cemels across, gleaming where the lord once stood.

“Master! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. No need to worry,” Shin replied, calming the concerned Schnee as she hurried to his side.

Inwardly, Shin mulled over the lord’s final words, repeatedly replaying the fractured sound in his mind.

In the end, I didn’t learn much of anything. I had hoped this one would provide more clues.

Suppressing his frustration to maintain his composure, he focused on the gemstone. Its size and brilliance made it clear that it was a supreme-class treasure. Carefully, Shin decided to collect it, just in case.

Looking at his map, he confirmed that all the red markers signifying the Skullfaces had disappeared. A few had previously escaped the cleansing light of Sanctuary of Light, but they, too, vanished after the lord’s destruction.

As I thought, the lord was at the heart of this entire ordeal.

As Shin continued studying the map, the bright light that had lit up the battlefield started to fade. The effects of Sanctuary of Light had finally worn off, leaving the plains in nothing but the faint glow of the moon.

With the light gone, the remarkable transformation of the plains became visible. From every corner of the field, sparkling magical particles floated into the air, shimmering like stardust as they rose into the vast night sky.

The sight of magical particles soaring high into the sky was captivating, as if the light itself was dissolving into the night. Across the plains, the phenomenon drew the attention of distant knights and adventurers alike.

As the divine glow that had dispelled the darkness diminished, it was replaced by the ethereal shine of the rising magic. The awe-inspiring sight left many watching it with a sense of reverence.

“It’s over, huh?” Shin muttered.

“It seems so. Before long, this place should return to its natural state,” Schnee replied.

“Let’s head back.”

“Yes.”

There was no need to ask “where to.” After watching the magical light fade completely, the two began walking away.

During the battle, Shin had spoken as casually as he did in the game, his focus sharpening his composure. But now that the tension had eased, an awkward silence settled between them.

For Shin, their time apart had been short. For Schnee, it had felt like forever.

Initially, their conversation was hesitant and halting. However, as they continued walking, words started to come more easily, bridging the many years that had kept them apart.

Before the investigating knights and adventurers could arrive, Shin and Schnee had already left the plains.

Moving quickly through the forest, the group navigated past adventurers heading toward the plains and set their course for the Moon Sanctum. Along the way, they stopped at the temporary base Shin had established. Unsurprisingly, it had been left untouched; Wilhelm and Rashia had prioritized their escape.

It was no surprise that Wilhelm hadn’t bothered to recover the equipment in the chaos; it wasn’t his style to risk lives over minor things. However, Shin couldn’t leave them behind. While losing the items wouldn’t bother him at all, leaving them unattended could turn the automated defenses into a danger for others.

Sure enough, there were signs that the defensive magic had been triggered. Some Skullfaces must have reached the base, setting off the traps. Given the base’s proximity to the plains, it wasn’t surprising that a few had managed to stray that far.

“So,” Shin asked as he finished packing up the equipment, “you said you were working on something. Is it done now?”

“Not completely,” Schnee replied, “but my role in it is nearly finished.”

“And that role is?”

“Item storage and distribution. With several nations joining forces to form this expedition, it was decided I would manage everything to prevent anyone from claiming more than their fair share.”

“Does that have anything to do with the commotion we just dealt with?”

“Of course it does.”

“You’re kidding me…” Shin groaned, rubbing his temples as the reality set in.

Though unintentional, he had once again managed to thrust himself into the middle of a huge commotion. It was hard to grasp the extent of what had just happened, an incident so big that even nations had mobilized to respond. As he reflected on the situation, Shin couldn’t help but regret how boldly he had acted, though there was little point in fretting over spilled milk.

As he listened to Schnee explain the circumstances, Shin’s mind wandered elsewhere. No witnesses, right?

After a brief period of deliberation, he concluded that, aside from Schnee, no one else could have directly observed him. The individual he’d helped, the green marker, had probably been too distracted by the towering Skullface to notice anything beyond the fiery projectiles raining down around them.

“Well, no use overthinking it,” Shin muttered, exhaling his tension. “But hey, shouldn’t you be heading back to handle the distribution? If your role is done, wouldn’t it make sense to return to the base or wherever everyone’s regrouping?”

“It’s fine for now,” Schnee replied with her usual composure. “The distribution won’t start until all units have gathered. Even if we aim for equality, it can’t exactly be a first-come, first-served situation. Considering how widely the units are spread, it’ll take at least a week for everyone to assemble. There’s no need to rush.”

Shin suspected that her nonchalance hid a wish to spend more time with him before rejoining her allies. For both of them, there was much to clarify and discuss. As they continued their journey toward the Moon Sanctum, they decided to share updates on their respective situations.

“I’ve got a lot of questions myself,” Shin said, scratching his neck awkwardly. “But you go first. It sounds like you’ve had more time to gather your thoughts than I have.”

“Understood. I’ll focus on a few key things for now,” Schnee said, her tone calm yet probing.

“Fire away.”

Schnee’s questions came in three parts:

1. Where had Shin been all this time?

2. Why had his combat skills improved so dramatically?

3. What were his plans going forward?

Shin nodded thoughtfully before responding to the first question. “All right, let’s start with the first one, where I’ve been. Honestly, it’s hard to explain. From my point of view, it’s been less than a month since I entered the final dungeon.”

Schnee tilted her head slightly, her silver hair swaying as she tried to understand his answer. “What do you mean by that?” she asked, her sapphire eyes narrowing with curiosity.

“That’s right. Do you remember how everyone saw me off when I went to face Origin?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I defeated Origin. That should have been the end of it. But deep inside the dungeon, the lowest level of the Gate of the Otherworld, there was a huge door in the boss chamber. After I took down Origin, that door opened.”

As Shin recounted the moment, the memory of that imposing, ornate door creaking open came back to him vividly, as if it were yesterday. He’d thought it was just decoration until it revealed itself with a loud, heavy groan.

“A door?” Schnee echoed, tilting her head slightly in curiosity.

“Yeah. After it opened, everything went black. When I woke up, I was lying in a field. The rest is history, you know, me heading to the Moon Sanctum, finding out it was over five hundred years into the future. Believe me, I was just as shocked as you can imagine. But yeah, I wasn’t somewhere for five hundred years. It was just… nothing. No time passed for me at all.”

“I see…” Schnee said softly. Her expression subtly shifted to one of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. The tension from their earlier reunion seemed to have completely melted away.

“Schnee?”

“Fufu, it’s nothing.”

“If you say so,” Shin muttered, still perplexed by her sudden cheerfulness. The question marks hovering over his head almost seemed tangible. But he decided against probing further; her happiness was too genuine to spoil with needless questions.

“All right, let’s move on. About my abilities, they’ve increased because of something I got after defeating Origin: gift titles,” he explained.

“Gift titles?” Schnee inquired, her tone now analytical. “What sort of gifts are we talking about?”

“Three in total: Limit Breaker, Achiever, and Liberator. The first two are the ones responsible for the stat boosts. Have you heard of any of these?”

“No, none of them are familiar,” Schnee replied, shaking her head. “What are their effects?”

Shin went on to explain each gift title in detail. While Liberator didn’t directly affect his stats, he felt it might hold some greater significance and shared its details with Schnee as well.

“That’s… incredible,” Schnee said after a pause, struggling to find the words to encapsulate the sheer magnitude of the gifts’ power.

“Right? When I first saw my stats, I thought the system was broken or something,” Shin admitted with a laugh, though the humor was laced with unease.

Schnee’s silent awe reflected Shin’s own initial reaction. The gift titles were ridiculously powerful, enough to completely disrupt the world’s power balance if someone less trustworthy than Shin gained them.

“Still,” Schnee said with a serene smile, “I don’t believe you need to worry too much about it.”

“And why’s that?” Shin raised an eyebrow, curious about her logic.

“The acquisition conditions. While this world has monsters, they don’t respawn in the same forms or locations as before. Origin was probably a one-of-a-kind entity. I can’t see anyone else fulfilling the conditions to earn these gift titles. Also, the dungeon you entered has completely disappeared.”

“Really? Then yeah, no one’s pulling that off.”

Schnee explained further, noting that shortly after Shin opened the Gate of the Otherworld, his support characters, including herself, became increasingly worried about his failure to return. They decided to follow him, but when they arrived, the dungeon was gone, completely erased, leaving no trace.

Returning to the Moon Sanctum, they encountered other support characters from different players, all distressed over their masters’ disappearances. This led Schnee to conclude that Shin had successfully cleared the dungeon, as players usually disappeared along with their data after such a feat.

The continued presence of support characters remained a mystery. It led them to start their own investigations, suspecting that Shin might still be out there somewhere.

Then, a disastrous event, the Day of Fallen Glory, hit, throwing the entire continent into chaos. Schnee decided to stay at the Moon Sanctum to protect it, while others chose between searching for their masters or defending their races.

Shin couldn’t help but guess who had made which choice. Some names and faces appeared in his mind, their likely decisions matching their personalities almost too perfectly.

“Wait a second,” Shin interjected, a realization hitting him. “Are you saying that Day of Fallen Glory didn’t happen immediately after I defeated Origin?”

“Master,” Schnee said, tilting her head slightly, “consider where the Moon Sanctum was located. Isn’t it natural that information would take some time to travel? Where do you think we were situated?”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point.”

The Moon Sanctum had been tucked away in a remote, monster-filled region, far from busy towns or dependable communication networks. Without chat features, it was understandable that news of Origin’s defeat and the subsequent Day of Fallen Glory had taken several days to spread.

“So, considering all that, it’s unlikely anyone else will ever have the same gift titles as you,” Schnee concluded matter-of-factly. “And if someone does show up… Well, I’ll leave dealing with them to you, Master.”

“Of course you would.”

“Of course. If someone with our level of strength obtains that gift title, only Master would stand a chance against them. Therefore, I’d leave that matter entirely to you.”

“Well, that seems about right,” Shin responded with a casual shrug. The mechanics were straightforward: doubling one’s stats would naturally boost their power, and the higher their base stats, the more destructive the outcome. Limit Breaker was formidable enough on its own, but the thought of an Achiever gaining such a gift was chilling, perhaps even beyond Schnee’s ability to counter.

Still, with Shin’s maxed-out stats, it was hard to picture an enemy that could defeat them in this situation.

“By the way, Schnee,” Shin said.

“Yes, Master? What is it?” she responded promptly.

“About that… the way you call me ‘Master.’ Can’t you find something else to call me?”

The question interrupted their ongoing discussion, but Shin couldn’t hold back any longer. While he hadn’t minded when he saw her as just an NPC in the game days, hearing her address him like that in normal conversation now made him unbearably self-conscious.

“Is there a problem with referring to Master as Master?” Schnee tilted her head slightly, a perplexed frown on her otherwise serene face.

“Problem? Well… yeah. Schnee, you’re pretty famous now, right? Just imagine the chaos if someone like you started calling me ‘Master’ in public. It’d be total chaos.”

Schnee’s brow furrowed as she considered his point. As the symbol of authority and prestige that upheld the Moon Sanctum's sanctity, she was truly a figure of reverence.

“Hmm, you may have a point,” she admitted with a reluctant nod.

“Right? I’d prefer to avoid unnecessary drama. So, can we drop the whole ‘Master’ thing?” Shin asked, his tone softening a bit as he tried to reason with her.

“But then, what should I call you?”

“Uh… just use my name. That’s fine, right?”

“…!” Schnee’s eyes widened in shock, and she suddenly looked away, muttering inaudibly under her breath. After what felt like an eternity, she finally lifted her head, her cheeks tinged with the faintest pink. She looked directly at Shin, determination flickering in her clear blue eyes.

“Then… Shin,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her flushed face stood out sharply against the bright red of her ears.

“Y-Yeah,” Shin stammered, scratching his head awkwardly as he tried to process her reaction. The delicate atmosphere between them was so charged that it made him squirm. Why does this feel so weird? he wondered. The situation reminded him of a scene straight out of a manga or video game, but experiencing it firsthand was a completely different experience.

Shin wasn’t entirely inexperienced in romance, but he wouldn’t call himself a seasoned expert either. To be honest, seeing Schnee—who, back in the game, rarely showed any change in expression—act shy and glance upward with just a hint of embarrassment as she softly spoke his name was… well, overwhelmingly, incredibly adorable.

“What… kind of destructive power is this?” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Huh?” Schnee tilted her head, her curious expression breaking the spell for a moment.

“No, nothing! Really, it’s nothing at all!” Shin quickly waved his hands in denial, trying to mask his flustered reaction. “Anyway, from now on, just call me Shin, all right?”

“Understood. Then… from now on, I shall call you S-Shin,” she said, her voice wavering slightly as she finished the sentence. Her effort to keep her usual calm was betrayed by the deep red tint on her cheeks and ears.

For Shin, who was familiar with her calm personality, this sudden change in her behavior struck him like lightning. The sheer difference was enough to make him want to curl up and scream inside.

So, this… is what they call gap moe, huh? I get it. Compared to this, even Celica’s occasional clumsy moments back at the guild seem insignificant.

For a while, the two walked in silence. Shin sneaked a sideways glance, noticing that Schnee’s ears had gradually returned to their normal color. Deciding it was a safe moment to break the awkwardness, he spoke again.

“Anyway, sorry for the detour. Mind if I get back to answering your earlier question?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.

“Ah, yes. My apologies for showing such an unbecoming side of myself earlier. I’m fine now,” Schnee replied, though her voice wavered ever so slightly, betraying the lingering embarrassment.

Shin decided to ignore it. Pointing it out would only make things more awkward. “Right, so I already talked about the ability part. Let’s move on to your last question. My plan from here is to travel around and gather as much information as I can.”

“Information?”

“Yeah. Whatever I do next, I need to understand this world better first. I did some basic research in the royal library, but I also want to check out the Sacred Lands. Have you been there before?”

“Yes, but only for some light preliminary investigations. I’m not familiar with what lies deeper in the central district.”

“I see.” Shin nodded, his expression serious. If the key to returning to his original world were hidden there, he’d need to confirm it with his own eyes.

“Um… Shin.” As Shin contemplated their next destination, Schnee’s voice broke the silence. It was different from before, firmer, with a hint of tension.

“Hm? What is it?”

“If you find a way… will you return? To your original world?”

“Yeah,” Shin finally replied after a long pause, his voice low and measured. He hesitated, unsure of how to answer, but any attempt to sugarcoat it would have been pointless. As long as the possibility existed, he wouldn’t give up.

Vague words would only undermine the truth.

He couldn’t lie.

“I see… Of course,” Schnee murmured, her expression unreadable.

“Sorry,” Shin said softly, his tone heavy with guilt.

“No, it’s all right,” Schnee reassured him, shaking her head gently. “When you spoke earlier, I had already guessed that would be your choice.” She smiled faintly, a bittersweet curl of her lips that seemed to understand too much. It resembled the relief she’d shown earlier, but something about it felt off, an almost imperceptible difference that nagged at Shin’s thoughts.

“Hey, Schnee,” he began, his gaze locking onto hers. “How much do you remember… from before? From when it was just a game?”

“Everything,” she replied without hesitation.

“Everything?”

“Yes. From the moment I descended with you into that world—everything.”

She paused, placing a hand on her chest as she spoke. Her voice grew softer, filled with a wistfulness that seemed to echo from deep within her.

“I remember running through the beginner fields with you. I remember sulking after being completely trounced in PvP battles. I remember the thrill of chasing every stat boost, the camaraderie of our guildmates. The times we laughed as you obliterated entire armies of players with that booming, victorious laugh of yours. The countless dungeons we braved, risking our lives to clear them. The lives we couldn’t save… Those memories still bring me to tears.”

Her voice faltered momentarily, but she pressed on.

“I remember the times you wielded that ruthless blade. The promises made with someone dear to you. And…” She closed her eyes briefly, her expression somber. “The final sight of your back as you disappeared.”

“I remember it all,” she said, her hand clutching at her chest as if to steady the emotions threatened to overwhelm her. “Even if you asked me to forget, I couldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

The radiant smile aimed at him was nearly blinding, and Shin found himself responding curtly despite himself. Seeing such a vivid expression, a stark contrast to anything an NPC would ever display, he couldn’t help but feel a small wave of happiness. So she could make a face like this, too, he thought, a faint smile forming at his lips.

“But wait. If you were aware, does that mean you were spouting all those pre-set lines on purpose?” he asked, half incredulous.

“No,” Schnee replied, shaking her head lightly. “It wasn’t until what you all called the death game began that I truly gained a sense of self, or rather, a clear consciousness. Before that, it was more like… watching a recording. It felt as though I were observing myself from afar, detached. It’s hard to describe.”

She described her memories as her own, yet somehow they felt like someone else’s. Shin didn’t fully understand, but the idea of being trapped in a body that acted on its own while she still had some awareness seemed unbearably cruel. He chose not to push further.

“I see. So that means you also remember things like logging out, and what happened after that,” Shin concluded, nodding thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Schnee confirmed. “The adventurers would occasionally speak of another world, one different from this one, starting when the life-and-death battles began. I believe they called it… Real?”

“Ah… that makes sense. That’s why some of you chose to look for me while others waited,” Shin murmured, piecing together the fragments of her explanation.

“Yes,” Schnee admitted with a wry smile, her expression tinged with a mix of understanding and regret.

The final battle of the death game was a cruel paradox. If Shin won, Schnee and the others would vanish. If he lost, they would stay, but at the cost of losing their Master. There was no happy ending, no matter the outcome. Schnee explained that this contradiction caused them to act in ways that seemed confusing at the time.

“I guess I can’t really say, ‘Why didn’t you talk to me first?’” Shin sighed, his lips curling into a rueful smile.

“Of course not,” Schnee replied, laughing softly. “That would have only made things harder for you. Back then, the best choice was the one we made.”

“I see.”

When he left the Moon Sanctum, he’d been eager to resolve everything. But now, realizing the hidden struggles of his supposed support characters, he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of inadequacy.

Even so, if someone had told him everything back then, what could he have done? He had no answer.

“At the time, none of us could fully act autonomously,” Schnee explained. “We had some degree of freedom, but it wasn’t like we could hold proper conversations like we do now. It was just impossible, no matter how much we wanted.”

“Now that you mention it,” Shin mused, scratching the back of his head, “I did think the NPCs started acting strangely human after the death game began. But hearing now that you all had a sense of self… It just makes me overthink everything.”

“You’re just as troublesome as ever, Shin.”

“Shut up… Leave me alone,” Shin muttered, scowling as he shot back at Schnee’s bemused expression. She offered him a gentle, knowing smile, as if to say his reaction only proved her right. The idea that what he’d once thought of as mere programming actually had consciousness made him uneasy. Did I treat them properly back then? he wondered, his thoughts spiraling. Schnee’s words hit closer to home than he cared to admit.

“Even so, you still chose to fight, didn’t you, Shin?” Schnee said quietly, her gaze steady.

“Yeah.”

The choice was clear: prioritize the lives of tens of thousands of real people or support characters, whom he then believed to be nothing more than data. Even knowing they had some level of self-awareness, the comparison seemed ridiculously unfair.

“Besides,” Schnee added, her voice softening, “you had a promise to keep, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

That promise, to bring as many people back to reality as he could, was something he’d made with someone very important to him. Knowing this, neither Schnee nor any of the other support characters had ever voiced objections to his decision.

“Now then,” Schnee said, her tone brightening deliberately, “I think it’s about time we stopped dwelling on the past. After all, we’ve been reunited. Let’s celebrate that instead.”

“Right. No point in hashing it out now. Enough of the gloomy stuff!” Shin declared, clapping his hands together with exaggerated enthusiasm. The tension that had hung in the air dissipated as they embraced the lighter mood. “First order of business, let’s head back to the Moon Sanctum and have ourselves a feast to celebrate. My item box is packed with ingredients, so we’ll go all out.”

“Sounds perfect,” Schnee replied, a smile lighting up her face. “I’ll take this opportunity to showcase the cooking skills I’ve been honing for years.”

“Oh? What level are you at now?”

“About a month ago, I reached level IX.”

“Seriously?!” Shin exclaimed, genuinely surprised. Cooking at that level was incredible, advanced enough to turn even high-level monsters into gourmet meals. At that point, even the simplest soups could give major stat bonuses.

In major guilds, chefs were just as highly valued as blacksmiths. Dishes made with rare ingredients could provide staggering bonuses. Sometimes, the difference between victory and defeat came down to whether a player had eaten such a meal.

The overwhelming dominance of the Six Devas, the guild Shin had once belonged to, wasn’t just because of their stats or the players’ skills. A significant factor was their access to a Chef X. In fact, the bonuses from such cooking could temporarily, if only slightly, push even maxed-out stats beyond their theoretical cap.

Incidentally, this information was known only to Shin and the other members of the Six Devas. The discovery began when a few members, including Shin, noticed subtle changes in damage output. However, the knowledge never spread widely, as only guild members could benefit from these exclusive enhancements.

“I may not be at the level of Cook-sama, but you can definitely look forward to a satisfying meal,” Schnee declared with a confident smile.

“All right! Leave the ingredients to me!” Shin replied enthusiastically. He grinned to himself, uttering a dramatic “hehehe” as he checked the contents of his item box. Although many of the ingredients had been stored since the days of the game, he had personally confirmed that they were perfectly safe to eat.

“By the way, Shin, I have another question unrelated to the previous topic,” Schnee said, her gaze drifting upward.

“Hm? What is it?” Shin asked, turning toward her.

Schnee’s eyes fixed on something above his head as she spoke. “What exactly is that?”

“That?” Shin echoed, following her gaze. Then it hit him. “Oh.”

He paused for a moment, realizing what she meant: Yuzuha, who was deeply asleep on top of his head.

“You’re asking about her name and level? Yeah, I tamed her. Or rather, we entered into a partnership under certain circumstances. Her name’s Yuzuha,” Shin explained. Then, with a slight pause, he added, “Since it’s you, Schnee, I’ll tell you. Her species is Element Tail.”

“I see. When I saw her tail, I thought she wasn’t a normal monster,” Schnee replied, stiffening for a split second before her expression softened, as if to say, “Well, of course, it’s Shin.”

“Wait, you could tell just by looking at her tail?”

Schnee gave him a look that seemed to ask, “Are you serious?”

“Shin, are you saying you didn’t notice? The moment you see a tail with three distinct branches, it’s obvious she’s not just an ordinary fox spirit.”

“Three tails?” Shin repeated, frowning as realization sank in. Now that she mentioned it, he remembered a strange feeling, a gentle brushing against his ears and the back of his head.

He reached up with his right hand and grabbed one of the tails. Soft, fluffy.

“Hmm,” he murmured thoughtfully.

Next, he reached up with his left hand and grabbed another tail. Again, soft and fluffy.

“Hmm,” Shin murmured thoughtfully, narrowing his focus to the back of his head, where he felt the faint, familiar fluff of fur brushing against him.

“Hmm,” he repeated, releasing the tails and reaching up to grab Yuzuha’s small body. Carefully, he brought her around to face him.

“Kuu?” Yuzuha let out a sleepy chirp, her eyes fluttering open as she was moved from her perch. Her three tails, now clearly visible, swayed gently behind her.

“Well, there’s no denying it. Three tails,” Shin said, his tone tinged with disbelief.

He checked her level, and his eyebrows shot up in shock. It was over 400.

“Okay, that’s way too high,” he muttered. Even considering her starting level of over 200, the jump was far too abrupt to be normal.

The monsters he fought while helping Rashia level up wouldn’t have given nearly enough experience for this. Even their battle against the lord wouldn’t have caused such a huge jump. Nearly 200 levels was crazy.

“There’s no way this is normal,” Shin concluded, furrowing his brow as he put the pieces together.

As a former member of the Six Devas, he had learned a lot about partner monster growth from Kashmia. With that knowledge, it was obvious. Such blatant growth was unheard of. The only reasonable explanation was some hidden quest triggered by meeting certain conditions, a system he was very familiar with from his gaming days.

If Shin’s memory was accurate, there were past quests involving partner monsters.

“Schnee,” he began, turning to her. “What’s the current status on hidden quests?”

“As far as I know, no quests like that have occurred. And since you disappeared, we haven’t heard the world’s voice even once.”

The “world’s voice” she mentioned was probably the in-game announcements. Hidden quests, unlike standard guild-issued ones, would activate when specific conditions were met. When triggered, they would be announced to players, explaining their objectives.

In this case, there had been no announcement at all, which explained why Shin had been completely unaware of Yuzuha’s dramatic level increase. And based on Schnee’s explanation, it seemed likely that such systems might no longer exist in this world.

“Still, could the tails have increased because her level went up?” Shin speculated, gazing at Yuzuha, who tilted her head quizzically in response.

Unlike in the game, where no child Element Tails existed, there was no precedent for how they developed or grew. Shin could only shrug at the mystery of it all.

“Yaaawn… Good morning, Master,” Yuzuha greeted casually, stretching as she let out a massive yawn, completely unaware of the turmoil in Shin’s thoughts.

“Wait, what?” Shin froze, blinking in confusion. “Hold on a second, Yuzuha. You can talk now?”

“Kuu? Yeah! When the dark thing disappeared, my head got totally clear,” Yuzuha replied casually, her voice light and carefree.

“The dark thing?” Shin repeated, narrowing his eyes as the memory of the lord’s core, split cleanly in two just earlier, flashed through his mind.

Reflecting on it, the shrine where he saved Yuzuha had been encircled by Skullfaces. The lord who showed up this time had probably been their leader.

“The dark, round thing inside the bones. Master cut it for me,” Yuzuha explained, her tails swaying lazily as she spoke.

“That sounds like the lord’s core, no doubt about it,” Shin muttered.

His gamer instincts tingled with a sense of connection between Yuzuha and the lord. Had some of her power been drained? Or maybe she had been sealed away? Either way, there was no way to confirm it now that the lord was defeated.

“For now, no talking in front of other people,” Shin instructed, his tone firm. “Regular fox spirits don’t speak.”

“Aww!” Yuzuha pouted, her ears drooping slightly.

“It’s fine if it’s just us, but no talking when others are around. Got it?” Shin said, his voice softening slightly.

“Okay, then, how about I just talk in your head?” Yuzuha asked, tilting her head.

“Telepathy, huh? That’s fine,” Shin replied with a nod. Communication wouldn’t be an issue if they used telepathy. Yuzuha seemed to instinctively understand this, nodding her agreement.

“However, Shin,” Schnee interjected, her voice calm but sharp, “with her tail count, passing her off as a little fox won’t work.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” Shin sighed.

Fox spirits appeared in many forms, often with multiple tails. In fact, those with more tails were probably more common. Still, a fox spirit with three tails specifically recalled creatures like the Flame Tail or the Long Tail Leader, both of which had base levels over 250. Such beings were far too noticeable to casually roam around in this world.

“If we claim it’s only temporary because she’s a child, we might be able to secure entry permits,” Schnee suggested thoughtfully.

“Well, she’ll grow up eventually,” Shin replied, scratching his head. After a moment of thought, he turned to Yuzuha. “Hey, Yuzuha. Can you transform or something?”

“Kuu? There are things I can do, and things I can’t,” Yuzuha replied, her three tails twitching as she gave Shin an innocent look.

“Can you make your tails look like just one?” Shin asked, tilting his head curiously.

“Easy!” Yuzuha chirped with confidence.

With a pop, the three tails disappeared, leaving just one perfectly normal-looking tail swaying behind her.

“Whoa!” Shin exclaimed, eyes wide with amazement.

“Impressive,” Schnee added, nodding in approval.

It wasn’t an illusion or trickery; Yuzuha’s tails had truly become one. Even the texture felt completely natural when Shin reached out to test it.

“Does this work?” Yuzuha asked, her tail wagging slightly.

“Perfect,” Shin said with a grin. “But it doesn’t tire you out or anything, right?”

“Nope, I’m fine!” she replied cheerfully.

“Great. Then can you keep it as one tail whenever there are other people around? It’ll make things a lot easier for us,” Shin explained.

“Sure, no problem!” Yuzuha agreed without hesitation, nodding eagerly. She didn’t seem to mind the idea of hiding her true nature.

“That was surprisingly easy to solve,” Shin said, scratching his head.

“It seems so,” Schnee agreed, giving her approval. “With this, it’s unlikely anyone will see through it.”

Shin felt a wave of relief wash over him. It seemed like they had found a practical solution.

“Yuzuha is amazing, right?” the little fox asked, puffing out her chest.

“Yeah, amazing, amazing,” Shin said with a chuckle, lifting her into his arms and ruffling her fur affectionately. Yuzuha purred contentedly, leaning into his touch.

“Adorable,” Schnee muttered, her voice soft.

“Huh?” Shin glanced at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah! N-Nothing!” Schnee stammered, her face flushing as she waved her hands in denial.

“You want to pet her, too?” Shin asked, smirking knowingly.

“By all means!” Schnee responded enthusiastically, revealing her usual composed demeanor. Despite being a warrior, she was still a woman who liked cute things.

As Schnee started to stroke Yuzuha’s head, the little fox practically melted with happiness, her ears twitching in pure joy.

“Honestly, Shin,” Schnee said with a smile, “you never fail to surprise me.”

“Hm?” Shin tilted his head, curious about the comment.

“Taming an Element Tail… something no one has ever accomplished,” Schnee said, her hand pausing mid-stroke as she regarded Yuzuha with mild disbelief.

In the game era, taming an Element Tail was considered impossible due to lore constraints, so her reaction was only natural.

“For someone so shocked, you seem pretty calm about it,” Shin remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I was surprised,” Schnee admitted with a small shrug, “but if it’s you, Shin, it’s not entirely unthinkable. Besides, this doesn’t seem to be one of the high-level individuals we fought before.”

“Fair enough. Weakening one of those without killing it would’ve been brutal, even for us in the Six Devas,” Shin said, nodding in agreement.

The Element Tail at full strength was a terrifying beast. It mastered all elemental magic and delivered powerful physical attacks with its claws and fangs, all while moving with an agility that contradicted its massive size. Even fully leveled players had to approach such monsters with extreme caution.

Curled up comfortably in Shin’s arms, however, Yuzuha exuded none of that menace.

“Kuu?” Yuzuha asked softly, tilting her head.

“All right,” Shin said, his expression sharpening. “Time to pick up the pace. I’ve sent someone ahead, and there might already be some trouble brewing.”

“In that case, we’d better hurry,” Schnee agreed, standing at attention. “If we move quickly, we might still catch up in time.”

Considering their speed, catching up wasn’t a challenge unless the other party was on horseback. But Shin’s forward scout, Wilhelm, had been enhanced with magic, and given the urgency of the situation, he was probably covering a lot of ground at an unsustainable pace.

If the two riders reached the kingdom and reported the situation to the guild before Shin stepped in, it would cause all kinds of complications for him.

“Let’s go full speed. I’d rather not attract any more attention from the guild,” Shin said firmly.

“You could have told me earlier, and I would’ve delayed the explanation,” Schnee remarked with a faint smirk.

“That’s a different matter,” Shin replied, sidestepping her point.

How could I have left it for later after seeing her face like that?

“All right, let’s move out!” he declared. He placed Yuzuha back onto his head and started running, with Schnee quickly matching his pace.

It didn’t take long for the two to catch up to Wilhelm and Rashia.

After running for about half a day, with the sun still low on the horizon, they finally spotted their targets.

“All right, time to spill the beans on exactly what the hell’s going on here,” Shin declared, his tone sharp as he approached.

“Why the hell are you starting off so confrontational?!” Wilhelm snapped back, clearly on edge. He had been standing guard, protecting the sleeping Rashia while keeping an eye on their surroundings. The moment of their reunion was brief, as Wilhelm’s irritation boiled over almost immediately.

Rashia, still exhausted, continued sleeping peacefully despite the noise.

“Well, to put it simply, Schnee took care of the lord,” Shin said with a casual shrug.

“Hmph,” Wilhelm grunted, launching a strike with his magic spear as if on instinct. It wasn’t a serious attack, but it was quick enough to make Shin flinch.

“Hey! That’s dangerous!” Shin yelped, quickly dodging.

“Don’t give me that! You let out that ridiculous burst of magic, then try to pass it off as someone else’s achievement?! Obviously, it was you rampaging around!”

“How’d you figure that out?!” Shin asked, surprised.

“Of course I figured it out, dumbass! First, you send us off with some flashy move, then you catch up in no time at all. What kind of game are you playing? Was that fight just a breeze for you? Huh? Give me back all the effort I put into running like hell!”

“Wait, calm down! Okay, okay, the joke was in bad taste, but Venom? That’s crossing the line!” Shin protested, dodging Wilhelm’s continued spear jabs.

“Tch.”

“Did you just click your tongue at me?! Come on, it was just a light joke!”

“Light joke, my ass! Don’t give me that ‘I-didn’t-do-anything’ look and then call it a joke. Quit messing around and explain yourself properly!” Wilhelm growled, glaring at Shin with deadly seriousness.

Perhaps Shin had gone a little too far with his teasing. Wilhelm was obviously at his breaking point.

“Shin, I think it’s time to get to the point,” Schnee said smoothly, stepping forward after watching their exchange with quiet amusement.

“So, you’re here too,” Wilhelm said, narrowing his eyes at her. His words carried the weight of recognition and something more.

“It’s been a while,” Schnee replied calmly. “If you understand that much, I suppose no explanation is necessary?”

Apparently, those few words were enough to create understanding between them.

“Hey, can someone explain this in a way I can understand?” Shin interjected, clearly feeling left out.

Shin couldn't understand the meaning behind the exchange, leaving him completely confused.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Wilhelm asked, shaking his head. “Schnee Raizar is famous for never bowing to anyone. Not kings, not popes, nobody.”

That’s… resolute.

“Wouldn’t that be considered disrespectful?” he asked cautiously.

“It is impossible for me to kneel before anyone other than Shin,” Schnee said firmly, her tone leaving no room for debate.

Shin had a vague sense that this might cause problems when dealing with royalty, but to Schnee, this rule seemed completely non-negotiable.

“Not that anyone would dare pick a fight with her in the first place,” Wilhelm added with a smirk.

“So that’s why her ‘disrespect’ gets overlooked,” Shin muttered. After all, if almost no one is capable of defeating her, what can anyone really do about it?

As Wilhelm continued, Shin learned that Schnee’s reputation wasn’t just built on her strength. Her manners and speech were flawless, and she was known to offer help whenever powerful monsters appeared. Her neutrality, with no loyalty to any particular faction, ensured there was no reason to oppose her. On the rare occasion someone tried, they were met with scorn from those around them and even with physical retaliation. Five centuries of such a reputation was no accident.

“Some have tried to secretly recruit her to their side,” Wilhelm explained. “But not a single group has succeeded.”

“Yeah, I can see why people would want her as an ally,” Shin admitted, nodding in agreement.

“And for her to willingly follow someone…” Wilhelm trailed off, looking meaningfully at Shin.

“Yeah… I figured you’d catch on,” Shin said with a sigh.

Shin still didn't fully understand the relationship between Wilhelm and Schnee, but it was clear that Wilhelm had already figured everything out.

“A high human, huh?” Wilhelm said, his voice steady but laced with a touch of awe.

“And my Master,” Schnee added, her voice filled with quiet pride.

“Well, kind of,” Shin said, scratching his cheek awkwardly.

“‘Kind of’ my ass,” Wilhelm scoffed. “Now it makes sense. That magic of yours? It’s no joke. Absolutely absurd.”

“Sorry about that,” Shin said sheepishly. “That was me holding back.”

“Yeah, sure. So you’re Schnee Raizar’s master, and a high human to boot. That’s already way beyond expectations, but…” Wilhelm shrugged dramatically, directing his gaze toward Yuzuha. “The fox you’re carrying up there isn’t just some ordinary fox either, is it?”

His tone, now a mix of disbelief and resignation, indicated he had gone beyond shock and into mild exasperation. Maybe his lack of fear came from meeting them without any preconceived ideas.

“Kuu?” Yuzuha chirped, tilting her head.

“She’s no little fox, that’s for sure. Her level shot past 400 during the last fight,” Shin explained.

“Yeah, I’m not even surprised anymore,” Wilhelm muttered, giving Shin a flat, unimpressed stare. It seemed the earlier revelations had numbed him to such news.

“So that’s why your answer was so vague when I asked if you were a Chosen One,” Wilhelm said, piecing things together.

“Exactly. My strength surpasses that of a typical Chosen One, but I wasn’t this powerful from the beginning. People like me are rare in this world, so it’s easier to let them think I’m a Chosen One,” Shin admitted.

“Fair enough,” Wilhelm said with a nod. “Still, if the two of you are traveling together, it’s only a matter of time before people figure it out.”

Wilhelm had a point. The Moon Sanctum’s reputation was unmatched, and any man seen openly associating with Schnee would inevitably attract the attention of information seekers and busybodies alike.

“I’ll use some magic skills to blur the truth,” Shin said, waving a hand dismissively. “Illusion magic should buy us some time.”

“Knowing you, your ‘illusion magic’ is probably nothing like what I’m familiar with. Hell, if you transformed into a monster, I wouldn’t even bat an eye,” Wilhelm retorted, shaking his head.

“Come on, give me a break,” Shin said with a wry smile.

“Let’s face it, you’re basically a walking natural disaster,” Wilhelm continued. “The kind of guy who, if the mood struck him, could wipe an entire country off the map. If I were a lord, I’d never get a good night’s sleep knowing you were wandering around.”

Wilhelm added, almost as an afterthought, “Not that I think you’d go around wrecking stuff for no reason.”

With that, Wilhelm sat down, adjusting the edges of Rashia’s blanket before gesturing for Shin and Schnee to join him. “No point standing around like this. Take a seat.”

Rashia remained peacefully asleep, her breathing soft and steady. According to Wilhelm, it had taken some effort to settle her down. He’d assured her that the presence of high-ranking adventurers nearby meant she was safe. He’d also explained that someone with Shin’s level of magical skill wasn’t likely to be defeated so easily.

“Speaking of which, are there still any records about us high humans?” Shin asked, the question slipping out as he took a seat.

While he had visited the library before, he hadn’t had the chance to dig that deep. Most of what he knew about how players were remembered in this world had come from Tiera. Now that he thought about it, maybe he’d unconsciously avoided the topic. After all, who would willingly delve into their own embarrassing history?

“To some extent, yeah,” Wilhelm replied with a shrug. “From what I know, you guys were ridiculously strong, each with absurd levels of skill in your respective fields. Some people even worship you as gods these days.”

Schnee nodded in agreement. “The others left behind quite a few legendary tales as well.”

“Ugh, sounds like another hassle to deal with,” Shin groaned. “I mean, yeah, we in the Six Devas started as a crafting guild, so it’s true we were unmatched in our specialties.”

“Huh? Didn’t you just get so strong you took up crafting to pass the time, like Schnee over here?” Wilhelm asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Wilhelm,” Schnee interjected, her voice cool but firm, “I didn’t take up cooking as a hobby just to kill time.”

While the two debated their different perspectives, Shin considered the truth. The members of the Six Devas had possessed impressive stats, sure, but their initial fame had come from their focus on production rather than raw combat power. Their renowned crafting skills had been as much a defining trait as their strength.

“That’s not quite it,” Shin clarified. “Humans are weaker than other races, even at the same level. In my case, I took up smithing to make up for that. Grinding levels while working on crafting at the same time was brutal, though.”

“Back when you started adventuring, you spent more time running away than fighting,” Schnee said, nodding emphatically.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Shin admitted with a sheepish grin. His early-game weakness was nearly unthinkable compared to how he was now.

“No normal person would even attempt that,” Wilhelm said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That’s what it means to be a high-level player,” Shin replied matter-of-factly.

“Or, as some would say, a ‘hardcore addict,’” Schnee added with a sly smile.

The exchange included some gamer slang that Wilhelm didn't understand.

“High… what now?” Wilhelm asked, frowning in confusion.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shin said, brushing it off with a chuckle. “Anyway, the loop was simple. Level up smithing to make better weapons. Equip those weapons to take down stronger enemies. Use the materials from those enemies to craft even better gear. Rinse and repeat.”

Wilhelm folded his arms and nodded. “Sounds about right. But forging advanced weapons isn’t exactly an easy process.”

Crafting skills like blacksmithing were somewhat easier to level than combat skills, but even so, The New Gate was far from a lenient game where maxing out skills came easily. This difficulty naturally created the division between combat guilds and crafting guilds. Excelling in just one field was a monumental task, let alone attempting to master both. Most players who tried gave up halfway, and those who succeeded were nearly nonexistent.

The game’s system let combat players make simple items like the low-grade Potion Ten, and crafting players could handle basic combat. However, these features were always meant to be secondary at best.

“It’s absurd. You’ve gotta be the textbook definition of an idiot to pull off something like that,” Wilhelm said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“How rude,” Shin responded with exaggerated indignation.

“Do you even realize how reckless that is? Nobody in their right mind would even attempt it,” Wilhelm retorted.

“If anyone were to consider it, it would probably be one of the long-lived races like elves or pixies,” Schnee interjected. “Though even they likely wouldn’t bother trying.”

While their lifespans made it feasible, elves and pixies were inherently unsuited to smithing. From the perspective of this world’s inhabitants, trying to master both combat and crafting was considered pure madness. Shin’s ability to do so had only been possible because it had been a game, and he had exploited every advantage available, like using bonus-enhancing items, skill books like the Secret Scrolls, and dedicating countless hours to improving his abilities.

Even then, it had taken an extraordinary amount of time. Trying something similar in this world, where people had daily lives to manage, would be completely impossible.

“I’m aware,” Shin said with a resigned smile. “The members of the Six Devas were all a little… intense. Honestly, I wasn’t the best at anything except smithing. Cain could build a castle in a day, Cook could butcher a dragon and turn it into a gourmet feast, Kashmia had somehow set up a monster ranch, and Hecate was cranking out Elixirs and Philosopher’s Stones like they were basic health potions. And let’s not forget Rade, his puppets could brawl with divine beasts.”

“And you, Shin,” Schnee added, a hint of exasperation in her tone, “were forging holy swords and demonic blades left and right. When you weren’t satisfied with them, you’d melt down even Ancient-class weapons. I still remember Filma screaming in horror every time you smelted another Mythology-class blade.”

Schnee’s lips curled into a wry smile as she remembered those days. Indeed, Shin had never hesitated to reforge even legendary or mythical weapons if they didn’t meet his strict standards.

Incidentally, Filma, Shin’s second-in-command support character, was a greatsword user. Shin remembered a time when she’d seemed strangely upset. It all made sense now.

“You’re all monsters. Wait, smithing’s your specialty?” Wilhelm asked, his expression skeptical.

“Yep. Want me to modify Venom for you?” Shin replied, his tone dripping with mischief.

“Don’t even think about it,” Wilhelm shot back instantly, clearly sensing something ominous from Shin’s unsettling chuckle.

“If you ever find it lacking, just say the word. I’ll strengthen it for you at a special discount,” Shin offered, his grin wide and undeniably shady.

“Why do you look like some sleazy merchant?” Wilhelm grumbled.

“Ah, well, you know, the smithing blood in me stirs at the thought,” Shin replied, feigning innocence.

“Yeah, I guess you really are a craftsman at heart. Now that I think about it, you’ve got the same look as those grizzled dwarf blacksmiths I’ve seen hanging around the forge.”

It appeared that blacksmiths everywhere shared a specific mannerism and demeanor.

“Don’t even think about showing off your skills in the forge,” Wilhelm warned. “Knowing you, you’d whip out some ‘secret arts’ or ‘forgotten arts’ and create some crazy weapon.”

“I wouldn’t do anything that flashy! I was just thinking of picking up my hammer again at the Moon Sanctum for old times’ sake.”

“Sure, sure,” Wilhelm said skeptically. “But listen to this, one of the smiths I work with swears that a longsword forged by the Six Devas’ blacksmiths, even at the basic normal class, could stand toe-to-toe with a legendary weapon.”

Usually, the gap between a common-class weapon and a legendary one was huge. Wilhelm, of course, wasn’t naive enough to believe such a story outright.

“That’s… Yeah, that’s definitely an exaggeration. Wait, hold on,” Shin said, pausing mid-thought. “Come to think of it, I did test how much I could enhance a normal-class weapon once.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Wilhelm said, staring at Shin in disbelief.

Schnee, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. “Are you perhaps referring to the experiment proposed by Rade-sama and Hecate-sama?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Shin confirmed. “We took some random iron, enchanted it with as many enhancement spells as it could handle, and forged it using the best equipment we had at the time. Somehow, it ended up in a shop by mistake, and the buyer called back in shock after testing it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Wilhelm asked, utterly dumbfounded.

As it turned out, the buyer had bought the weapon as a gift for a new player. The recipient had used it to easily defeat monsters they shouldn’t have been able to beat.

The player who received the weapon apparently felt that the monsters were unusually weak. The buyer, assuming it was just an ordinary longsword, didn’t bother checking the weapon’s stats and therefore didn’t realize its true potential.

“Man, I was amazed at how powerful it turned out,” Shin reminisced. “Though since it was still just iron, its durability wasn’t great. I made a few of them, but during some test swings, or more like test duels, they broke after about ten to twenty hits.”

“That’s when you should’ve realized something was seriously wrong,” Wilhelm groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead as if trying to contain a headache. The common sense that a smith’s skill couldn’t simply overcome weapon quality had just been completely upended.

“All right, all right, I get it now. You really are a high human. The normal rules of this world don’t seem to apply to you,” Wilhelm said, shaking his head.

Schnee declared proudly, “As my Master, the current norms are irrelevant to him.”

“Kuu, kuu,” Yuzuha added with a nod, as if in complete agreement.

“I wasn’t complimenting him,” Wilhelm retorted, exasperated. He glanced at Schnee and Yuzuha, both looking way too pleased with themselves, and sighed again. Yuzuha’s reactions, which seemed to suggest she understood their conversation, went unquestioned for now, probably because Wilhelm was still processing everything else.

Schnee, for her part, looked smug, perhaps because they were reminiscing about Shin’s exploits.

“Hmm… hmm?” Wilhelm began to sigh again, but stopped as a voice interrupted him. Rashia, who had been sleeping nearby, stirred awake, blinking groggily. Apparently, their conversation had been too loud for her to remain asleep.

“Shin… Shin-san?” Rashia murmured, still half-asleep.

“Yo,” Shin greeted with a casual wave.

“Huh? Oh, hello… Wait, what are you doing here?!” she exclaimed, fully waking up as recognition hit her. She stared at him in shock.

The man who had stayed behind to fend off the horde of monsters so she and Wilhelm could escape was now standing in front of her, very much alive. And, as always, with Yuzuha perched atop his head.

“Apparently, he managed somehow,” Wilhelm replied with a shrug.

“What?” Rashia turned to Wilhelm, her expression a mix of disbelief and confusion. Her wide-eyed gaze seemed to say, “What do you mean, ‘somehow’? That’s impossible!”

Wilhelm confronted Rashia’s disbelief directly.

“Apparently, someone just happened to pass by and lend us a hand,” he said, glancing meaningfully at Shin and Schnee. His eyes silently conveyed to Shin, “Don’t tell her the truth.”

Shin, already planning to keep the fact that he was a high human hidden from Rashia, gave a slight nod in agreement. Unlike Wilhelm, who had some prior connection to Shin, Rashia, as a regular citizen, wouldn’t be able to deduce his true identity from Schnee’s behavior alone. While revealing the truth wouldn’t necessarily cause harm, simply knowing such a sensitive detail could put Rashia in danger in the worst-case scenario.

For now, they chose to stick with the story that it was simply a lucky coincidence.

As for Wilhelm, Shin wasn’t concerned about him; after all, Schnee had personally given him a letter of introduction.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Schnee Raizar,” Schnee said, bowing politely. “I currently serve as the acting manager of the Moon Sanctum.”

“T-Thank you… um, wait, what did you just say?” Rashia stammered, her eyes wide with disbelief.

She had heard Schnee clearly, but she seemed unable to understand what she had just said.

“She said she’s Schnee Raizar,” Wilhelm interjected, smirking. “You know, the Schnee Raizar.”

“The?” Rashia repeated, her voice filled with awe.

“Yeah, the Schnee Raizar,” Wilhelm confirmed, crossing his arms as if that explained everything.

Schnee raised a delicate eyebrow. “I feel like this conversation has taken on a rather unflattering tone,” she said, frowning slightly.

The repeated emphasis on “the” was beginning to sound derogatory, even though it wasn’t intended that way. In this context, it was simply praise.

“Don’t sweat the details,” Wilhelm said with a wave of his hand. “Rashia, stop freezing up and introduce yourself properly.”

“Ah, y-yes! I’m Rashia! It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am! Ugh…” she said, stumbling over her words and flushing red.

“Likewise,” Schnee replied smoothly, as if Rashia’s flustered introduction had been perfectly normal. Her composed response highlighted her maturity.

“Thanks to Schnee lending us her strength, we were able to deal with the monsters. You can relax now,” Shin added, trying to reassure Rashia and emphasize Schnee’s role.

“You defeated all those monsters? That’s incredible! Truly worthy of being called a saint!” Rashia exclaimed, looking at Schnee with admiration.

Shin paused at the unfamiliar word. “Saint?”

“Ah! My apologies,” Rashia said quickly, covering her mouth with her hand. “I know Schnee-sama doesn’t accept the title, but I just… slipped.”

“You don’t accept it?” Shin asked, turning to Schnee with a curious expression.

Noticing his gaze, Schnee sighed softly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Previously, the church’s headquarters contacted me to officially recognize me as a saint,” Schnee explained. “I declined.”

“You thought it would cause problems if you accepted?” Shin asked.

“Yes,” Schnee replied with a slight nod. “As someone serving a high human, I have no intention of aligning with any specific faction. However, holding the title of saint would naturally link me to the church’s influence. That’s why I refused. It was over a hundred years ago, so I thought they had forgotten about it, but apparently, they haven’t given up yet.”

She sighed, exasperation clear in her voice. The church’s insistence seemed to catch even her off guard.

Even if the church officially recognized her as a saint, it mattered little if Schnee herself rejected the title. For Shin, who was currently caught up in behind-the-scenes conflicts with the church, the situation only deepened his suspicion of hidden motives.

As Shin thought about this, Schnee turned to Rashia with a gentle smile. “You may call me Schnee,” she said kindly.

“T-That’s far too informal! I couldn’t possibly!” Rashia stammered, clearly overwhelmed.

“You’re too tense,” Wilhelm said, rolling his eyes.

“And Wil isn’t tense enough!” Rashia shot back, glaring at him.

Although Rashia’s reaction was somewhat exaggerated, Shin believed it was probably the most fitting response. After all, Shin had known Schnee for a long time, and Wilhelm’s personality wasn’t one to show deference. This made their conversations feel relaxed. But as Tiera once said, Schnee was so famous that even children knew her name. For most people, meeting her in person would naturally inspire such awe.

“All right, stop dithering. We should get moving. No reason to sit around here any longer,” Wilhelm said, standing up and stretching.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Shin agreed, standing up. With the orphanage still on his mind, he knew there was no time to waste.

Rashia hurriedly scrambled to pack her bedding. She didn’t fully grasp the situation but was satisfied knowing Schnee had taken care of it. Although she still remembered the fear of being surrounded by monsters, she now looked at Schnee with unwavering trust, as if she believed this person could do anything.

To someone like Rashia, Schnee Raizar wasn’t just a person. She was a living legend. For over five hundred years, Schnee had protected these lands as both a hero and a saint. Rashia’s expression held a trust so deep, it bordered on reverence.

“Good grief, this is going to be more of a hassle than I thought,” Shin muttered to himself, watching the faith-filled look Rashia gave Schnee. The mere thought of traveling with Schnee made him grimace. Even venturing into a town would likely cause an uproar.

With a heavy sigh, Shin decided to put extra effort into his disguises. He knew he had to be meticulous.

Part 5

With Rashia on Wilhelm’s back, Shin and Schnee matched his pace, sprinting across the terrain. Although Rashia’s level had risen, the effort of moving at full speed would have been too much for her to bear. Wilhelm considered this the best option.

Their pace was faster than that of a horse. Despite taking breaks along the way, the group, four people and one fox, arrived within sight of the royal capital’s outer walls before sunset.

Trying not to draw unwanted attention, they started walking as soon as they reached a more visible area.

“Ugh… I feel awful,” Rashia groaned, her face pale and slightly green.

“Come on, I’ll give you a piggyback ride. Just hold on,” Wilhelm said, kneeling slightly so she could climb onto his back. Rashia, not used to being carried at such high speeds, looked like she had severe motion sickness. Walking in her condition would have been cruel.

“Are you feeling okay?” Schnee asked softly, her voice filled with concern.

“T-Thank you… for your worry…” Rashia managed to reply weakly, her voice trembling.

“She’s in bad shape,” Shin muttered with a sigh. Motion sickness, it seemed, wasn’t something a recovery potion could cure. He told her to let them know if it became unbearable and then led the group onward.

By now, Schnee had already used her magic to change her appearance. Her blue eyes had turned red, her silver hair now a deep gold, tied into a ponytail. She had also cast several subtle spells to improve her disguise.

Shin’s direct use of magic made it almost impossible to detect the illusion under normal circumstances. Also, a woman’s appearance can change significantly with just a different hairstyle. Along with the changed hair and eye color, even those familiar with Schnee wouldn’t recognize her right away.

“Just to confirm,” Shin asked as they walked, “we’re splitting up at the city gates, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Wilhelm replied. “The job was simply to ensure we learned the necessary skills. No need to escort us all the way to the church. Whatever’s going on there, it’s our problem to handle.”

Schnee gave Wilhelm a knowing, gentle smile in response to his bluntness.

“That serious streak of yours hasn’t changed, despite your tone,” Schnee remarked with a wry smile.

“Mind your own business,” Wilhelm replied, his voice rough.

Wilhelm’s words about potential trouble didn’t disturb Shin. He had already extended his detection range to the orphanage, confirming that everyone there was safe and that there were no signs of unwelcome visitors.

“All right, this is where we part ways,” Shin said as they reached the gate. He handed over a message card and a sheet of stationery. “Take these. Use them to contact me if anything comes up.”

Wilhelm glanced at the items but didn’t pick them up. Instead, he frowned. “This lets you send a message directly, doesn’t it? If it comes down to using this, I’m not going to hold back. You’ll get dragged into it, and it’ll only bring you trouble.”

His gaze was steady, silently urging Shin to take the card back. Even as a fellow Chosen One and someone recognized by the Moon Sanctum, Wilhelm clearly had no intention of involving an outsider in their affairs unless it was absolutely necessary. Shin understood the sentiment. Once the church had its eyes on someone, helping them would only increase the risks. Wilhelm’s foresight was evident in his words.

The logical choice would be to involve Shin. His strength and influence could resolve issues more quickly and with less damage. But despite understanding this, Wilhelm refused to do so.

Even Rashia, still being carried on Wilhelm’s back, stayed silent. They’d chosen to confront an opponent with much more power, wealth, and resources on their own terms.

Schnee Raizar and her Master. No one in this world would have blamed Wilhelm and Rashia for seeking aid from such unmatched power and renown. But to them, this was their fight, and they were determined to resolve it themselves.

The request they had asked for was complete. From this point on, they planned to handle the rest on their own. That resolve created an invisible barrier between Wilhelm and Shin.

“Fine. Go ahead and do it your way,” Shin said, suddenly pressing the message card into Wilhelm’s hand as if the wall weren’t even there. “I can’t just leave things unfinished after coming this far. It’d weigh on my conscience.”

“But—” Wilhelm began to object.

“And another thing!” Shin interrupted, cutting him off.

He fixed Wilhelm with a determined look. “You’re the first friends I’ve made since I got here. And those kids you’re trying to protect—they’re your family, right? There’s no way I’d leave them behind. So, when the time comes, drag me into it. Let me help.”

“You… What are you saying?” Wilhelm muttered, his voice wavering.

“I’m saying don’t hesitate to contact me. Just take the damn card already! This is getting embarrassing!” Shin snapped, the flush on his cheeks betraying his growing discomfort. He could already tell he’d cringe hard later when recalling this moment. Since when was I this sentimental? he thought, questioning himself.

One thing was certain: he wouldn’t regret it. Even though this world wasn’t his own, Shin believed it was the right choice.

“Don’t expect me to hold back,” Wilhelm finally relented.

“Yeah, you can count on me,” Shin said with a confident grin.

Wilhelm smirked and finally accepted the message card.

“You haven’t changed, Shin,” Schnee said softly.

“Really? I don’t see it,” Shin replied, tilting his head slightly as he watched Wilhelm and Rashia head toward the gate.

Schnee’s remark came from a memory, a moment just like this one. Shin’s reaction indicated he didn’t remember, but Schnee vividly recalled the many times she’d seen him help strangers with the same relaxed resolve.

A girl with tear-streaked cheeks, a boy staring into space in despair, an elderly man willing to sacrifice himself, and a young man desperately struggling to move forward. Shin’s kindness had never discriminated; his help was given freely to all.

“I can’t save everyone. I’ll just do what I can,” he’d once said.

Schnee could still vividly remember those words, spoken without arrogance or self-pity. It was simply how Shin chose to live—always protecting the weak without claiming to be all-powerful.

“Schnee, you coming? I’ll leave you behind,” Shin called over his shoulder.

“Apologies. I was just lost in thought. I’m coming,” Schnee replied, quickening her pace to catch up.

She walked behind him for a moment, her gaze fixed on his back, before finally stepping up beside him. Shin glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, curious but choosing not to comment. Instead, they kept walking toward the Moon Sanctum.

In the corner of Shin’s vision, Schnee’s profile came into focus, a serene, gentle expression on her face. It was a look of quiet admiration and fondness that required no words.

Chapter 3: A Moment of Rest

Part 1

After walking for a while, Shin and Schnee saw a familiar sight ahead: the Moon Sanctum.

The sign hanging on the door read “Owner Out on Errand,” indicating the shop was officially closed. The door was locked, but both Shin and Schnee were registered—Shin as the owner and Schnee as an employee. As soon as Shin placed his hand on the door, it unlocked automatically, swinging open with a soft creak.

The inside of the shop hadn’t changed since Shin’s last visit. A faint smell of food still lingered in the air.

“Ugh, now I’m starving,” Shin groaned, clutching his stomach.

“I’m hungry too!” Yuzuha piped up, her small voice breaking the silence she had maintained the entire time they were with Wilhelm and Rashia. Maybe sensing the need for discretion earlier, she hadn't made a sound. Now, cradled in Shin’s arms, she seemed eager to voice her complaints.

“It’s the perfect time for dinner,” Schnee said with a smile after removing her disguise. Shin nodded in agreement.

As they headed toward the living quarters behind the counter, the sound of hurried footsteps reached their ears, along with a shout.

“Master!”

It was Tiera, the shopkeeper, who rushed in. She must have heard the chime of the shop’s bell. She appeared out of breath, clutching a kitchen knife, probably in the middle of cooking. The sight was, frankly, a little alarming.

“Calm down. You’re too flustered,” Schnee said softly.

“S-Sorry! But listen, someone came by saying they knew Master, just like I mentioned in the message card! And they left something incredible!” Tiera exclaimed, still visibly worked up. She seemed so distracted that she hadn’t yet noticed Shin standing right there.

“Perhaps you’re referring to this gentleman?” Schnee asked, gesturing toward Shin.

“Ah! T-That’s right, but… wait, why is Master here with Shin?!” Tiera finally noticed Shin as Schnee stepped aside, revealing him fully.

She looked completely puzzled, unable to understand why Schnee, who was supposed to be hunting monsters, and Shin, who should have been heading toward the Wraith Plains, were together. From her point of view, Shin should still be far from the Moon Sanctum if common sense in the world applied.

“It’s a long story,” Shin said with a shrug. “How about we save it for after dinner?”

Schnee added, “There were some complicated matters yesterday, and explaining everything will take some time.”

“I… I see,” Tiera said, nodding slowly. Then her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Wait, is Shin eating with us?”

“Of course,” Shin replied simply.

“Of course? What do you mean, of course?” Tiera asked, clearly puzzled by his confident assumption.

“Come to think of it,” Schnee said thoughtfully, “I don’t believe I’ve told you yet, Tiera. Though it seems you already know each other, this is Shin, the owner of the Moon Sanctum.”

Just like that, Schnee nonchalantly dropped the bombshell.

“O-Owner? Wait, the owner… The owner? The owner?!”

It took a moment for the word “owner” to fully register in Tiera’s mind. When it finally clicked, her reaction was immediate and clear: her eyes widened, her mouth formed a perfect “o,” and her grip on the kitchen knife wavered as if she was about to drop it.

“Isn’t that an overreaction?” Shin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Considering the rumors that you don’t even exist anymore, her surprise is understandable,” Schnee said with a smile.

“How could I not be shocked?! The owner… The owner is… The legendary one?!” Tiera stammered, her voice rising in pitch.

“Wait, what? Legendary? People call me the legendary owner now?” Shin asked, looking genuinely confused.

“No! I’m talking about you being a high human!” Tiera shouted, her words practically spilling out in her exasperation.

“But… didn’t I tell you right from the beginning?” Shin asked.

“Who would take something like that seriously?” Tiera replied, still visibly flustered.

Though Tiera seemed like the odd one out because of her agitation, Shin couldn’t help but think that her reaction was probably the typical response. After all, as she mentioned, most people wouldn’t take someone seriously if they claimed to be a high human. But here stood Schnee Raizar, the ultimate witness.

If anyone could confirm Shin’s identity, it was Schnee. Having served him personally, there was no way she could mistake him for anyone else. Her testimony alone served as undeniable proof of Shin’s identity.

As this realization sank in, Tiera’s face started to go pale.

“I… I had no idea you were the owner! My deepest apologies!” she exclaimed, bowing quickly.

“Huh?” Shin blinked, startled.

“Kuu!”

The shift from shock to a formal apology was so quick that Shin was momentarily left speechless. As Tiera lowered her head, Yuzuha, sitting on Shin’s arm, tried to place her front paws on Tiera’s bowed head. Shin quickly stopped her.

Ah, so this is like when you realize the person you’ve been casually chatting with is actually your boss. I’ve been through this before… It was a prank, but still, I panicked.

Shin’s mind flashed back to his part-time job, where someone he’d been friendly with turned out to be the store manager. While the scale of Tiera’s situation was much larger, Shin could empathize. For her, realizing she’d been speaking informally to someone she should revere must have been overwhelming.

Seeing Tiera’s panic, Shin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity.

“Don’t worry about it. I totally get how you feel,” Shin said, nodding sincerely as he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Uh, um… okay,” Tiera replied hesitantly. Shin’s expression, so full of understanding, only seemed to confuse her more.

“Seriously, it’s fine. I’d rather you not suddenly start treating me differently. That’d just make things awkward,” Shin added, his voice calm but firm.

“You’re… sure? You’re not going to tell me to leave or anything?”

“What? Of course not!” Shin exclaimed, incredulous.

What kind of unreasonable tyrant does she think I am?! he thought, unable to resist saying something back.

After further discussion, it was decided that things would remain as they were. There was a brief stir when Shin revealed he was Schnee’s master and that Yuzuha could talk, but the reactions were so similar to before that it hardly seemed worth mentioning.

“Well then, shall we dig in?” Shin said, clasping his hands together.

Some time had passed since their earlier conversation, and now the three of them, along with Yuzuha, were gathered around the dining table. Of course, since they were covered in dirt and grime, they had all taken a bath first.

The pre-meal phrase, “itadakimasu,” seemed to have become the standard greeting. Elves didn’t originally share this custom, but since Schnee started it, Tiera adopted the habit as well. Naturally, Schnee had learned it from Shin.

“As expected of Schnee. Everything looks amazing,” Shin said, genuinely admiring it.

It was a well-deserved compliment. The spread of dishes on the table wasn’t the kind of meal Shin often got to enjoy. Even back in the Six Devas, where Cook, a legendary chef, was among their ranks, Shin hadn’t experienced such fine cuisine every day. And Cook’s meals weren’t always successful; some were experiments that Shin still remembered with a shudder.

Now, in front of Shin, there were dishes that rivaled Cook’s finest creations. The flavors of the ingredients had been heightened to a level unlikely in the real world. The menu before them would have made even royalty envious. It was no surprise that Shin found himself swallowing audibly in anticipation.

“Kuu! Feast! Feast!” Yuzuha cheered, practically vibrating with excitement as she looked over the spread.

“These dishes… I’ve never seen anything like them before. Master really went all out,” Tiera said, her tone a mix of awe and disbelief.

“Naturally,” Schnee replied confidently.

Yuzuha, excited by the sight of the feast, almost danced in her seat. Even Tiera, who had lived with Schnee for a long time, seemed surprised by the extra effort Schnee put into the meal.

“With cooking this extraordinary, it feels worth it to have supplied the ingredients,” Shin said with a chuckle.

“Wait a second,” Tiera interjected, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “What exactly did you provide? Some of these dishes are practically radiating a strange aura.”

“Huh?” Shin blinked in confusion.

“Kuu?” Yuzuha tilted her head innocently.

Shin froze at Tiera’s comment about the food radiating an aura, his mind racing. Yuzuha tilted her head, confused.

Shin couldn’t see anything unusual himself, but if Tiera, a sharp-eyed elf, said something was there, it wasn’t out of the question. He began to mentally review the ingredients he’d handed over to Schnee.

“R-Right… let’s see. The meat was mainly from Thermal Leo, Orc King, and various parts of an Elmorah. Vegetables included Blood Radish, Kalima Onion, and Baochao Potato. For fruit, there was the Idea Fruit and Topaz Pear. Other than that, I guess Schnee used some of the stuff I’d already stocked up on, right?”

“Indeed. I decided to use some premium ingredients for the occasion,” Schnee replied with a calm smile. “Though I didn’t have enough time to prepare anything particularly intricate.”

Her tone implied that she hadn’t even given her best yet.

Meanwhile, Tiera’s reaction was priceless.

“W-W-Wait, what are those?! Those are almost all rare, high-grade ingredients you can barely ever get your hands on! Some of them I’ve never even heard of! And the Idea Fruit?! That’s the legendary fruit that only ripens once every hundred years! It’s supposed to be extinct!”

Clutching her head, Tiera looked overwhelmed as Shin's mouth spilled out the names of the ingredients.

The Thermal Leo and Orc King were both monsters classified as disasters. Whenever they were spotted, guilds issued emergency calls for adventurers to handle them. Tiera had never heard of Elmorah, but considering it was grouped with the other two, she could imagine it was just as dangerous.

Blood Radish was a plant that absorbed ambient mana from the air, making it nearly half a monster itself. Baochao Potato, on the other hand, was notorious for exploding like a land mine when it received enough shock.

The Topaz Pear was a shimmering, jewel-like fruit, and as for the Idea Fruit, its legendary status spoke for itself.

In short, these were not ingredients that anyone would usually consider using in cooking.

“Hey, Schnee,” Shin said, turning to her with a confused look. “What exactly is this ‘aura’ Tiera’s talking about?”

“It’s the lingering magical energy or vitality from the creatures or plants used as ingredients,” Schnee explained. “We elves and pixies have heightened senses compared to other races, so we can detect those traces. You often see it in rare or powerful creatures and plants.”

“Huh, that makes sense,” Shin said, nodding as the explanation clicked. Given the elves’ and pixies’ natural sensitivity, it seemed perfectly logical.

“Tiera,” Schnee said softly, “calm down. More importantly, let’s eat before the food gets cold. It would be a shame to waste such a fine meal.”

Shin nodded in response to Schnee.

“Yeah, let’s dig in. Itadakimasu.”

“Itadakimasu!” echoed Tiera.

“Kuu? Itadakima!” Yuzuha chimed in, mimicking the others.

After clasping his hands together, Shin picked up his knife and fork. On the table were a hamburger steak, potato salad, soup, and a choice of rice or bread. For drinks, there was a special touch, a celebratory glass of Schnee’s treasured Moonlight Wine.

At first glance, the menu could easily be found at a family restaurant, excluding the drinks. However, the dishes’ simplicity only highlighted the chef’s skill.

As Shin cut into the hamburger steak, juices spilled out, blending with the sizzling sauce on the iron plate and releasing a mouthwatering aroma that made his salivary glands ache with anticipation.

The first bite was sublime. The burst of rich meat juices and savory sauce, combined with the soft texture of the steak, left only one word lingering in his mind: delicious. And when paired with a spoonful of white rice, it was nothing short of perfection.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips, and a smile blossomed unbidden. True to form, good food always brought out genuine joy. Sipping from his glass, the smooth, rich aroma of the Moonlight Wine deepened the experience, enhancing the flavors and making him even hungrier.

“Mm… mmm…”

“…”

Shin and Tiera sat quietly, devouring their meals, fully absorbed. Yuzuha, too, was the perfect picture of single-minded determination, her small frame entirely focused on the feast.

Schnee, watching the two humans and one fox with a pleased smile, ate at a relaxed pace, savoring every bite.

“Wait, did I just eat everything without saying a word?!” Shin exclaimed, staring down at his now-empty plate in disbelief.

“If you’d like seconds, I have more prepared,” Schnee offered, her tone calm and confident.

“Absolutely!” Shin exclaimed enthusiastically.

This exchange, repeated several times, soon drew in Tiera and Yuzuha as well. Schnee, always thorough, had anticipated their hungry appetites and prepared extra servings accordingly.

As the meal went on and their pace naturally slowed, the conversation turned to sharing stories about the time Schnee and the others had spent together.

“Still, those guys live pretty freely, don’t they?” Shin remarked, breaking into a reflective smile.

Shin’s remark was triggered by what he had learned about the other support characters. Some had become kings, others wandered the land, and a few were even missing. It seemed that searching for Shin was more of a side task for them. Knowing this, Shin felt a small sense of relief. He didn’t want them wasting their lives chasing a faint hope that he might still exist in this world.

Considering their personalities, it made sense. Schnee’s exceptional dedication was clearly an exception rather than the norm.

“The idea that Shin might be somewhere was always just hopeful speculation,” Schnee said. “I believe everyone understood that dwelling on it wouldn’t do them any good.”

“I’m grateful for that. The last thing I’d want is for them to spend their lives chasing someone who isn’t even there,” Shin replied with a sigh.

“Even if some had chosen to do so, that would be their decision. It’s not something you need to feel responsible for,” Schnee said gently.

“Maybe…” Shin murmured. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that knowing someone was searching for him would weigh heavily on his mind. It was simply human nature. Of course, there was little point in stressing over something the others didn’t seem to care about anymore.

“Master… sad?” Yuzuha asked, looking up at him with concern.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Shin said with a reassured smile.

“Honestly, Shin, you worry too much about everything,” Tiera chimed in, her voice slurring slightly.

“Hey, Tiera. Are you drunk?” Shin asked, narrowing his eyes. Her words were slow and a bit off, her speech slightly unclear, and her pale skin—already striking against her black hair—was now tinged with a noticeable blush. Given how fair her complexion was, the redness stood out.

Shin’s mind flashed to the empty bottles on the table. Reflecting on how much they had consumed, it was clear that the deliciousness of the drink had encouraged them to overdo it.

“Hey, Schnee,” Shin said, turning to her. “How many bottles of Moonlight Wine did we go through?”

“About five, I think,” Schnee replied calmly.

“And the alcohol content?” he pressed.

“Approximately 35%,” Schnee answered casually.

“That’s strong!” Shin exclaimed, his eyes widening. Judging by its smooth taste and pleasant mouthfeel, he had assumed it was closer to the strength of wine. Clearly, the logic of a fantasy world’s liquor didn’t follow earthly conventions.

“Hehe, I see twooo Masterrsss,” Tiera slurred, swaying slightly.

“She’s seriously drunk. Is she usually this weak with alcohol?” Shin asked, starting to worry.

“She doesn’t usually get this drunk, but considering how much she drank tonight, it’s not surprising,” Schnee remarked as she returned.

“I don’t feel all that drunk myself,” Shin replied, tilting his head thoughtfully.

Perhaps he had built up some tolerance to alcohol. He only felt a slight buzz and had no trouble staying balanced or speaking clearly. If he were still his real-world self, he’d probably be completely out of it with the amount they’d drunk. Still, not losing his composure while drinking was definitely a plus. Being good at handling alcohol rarely caused problems, or so he hoped.

As Schnee led Tiera to her room, Shin remained behind to tidy up the dishes.

“This body I’ve spent a year in now… I wonder what’s happening to the real one,” Shin mused to himself as he wiped a plate dry. “But this isn’t the time to think about that,” he muttered, shaking the thought away. There was no point in dwelling on whether he could return when the answer remained uncertain.

Schnee had returned by the time he finished cleaning.

“That was quick,” Schnee said with a small smile.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had practice,” Shin replied, shrugging. Living alone in the real world had made dishwashing part of his daily routine. Though he’d done none of that during his time in the game, his hands still remembered the motions.

“Yuzuha… sleepy…” Yuzuha mumbled, her voice drowsy as she swayed on the table.

“Yeah, I guess it’s about time for us to turn in, too,” Shin said, smiling fondly at her.

“Let’s,” Schnee agreed. “Your room is exactly as you left it, so you can use it right away.”

“That’s a relief,” Shin said gratefully.

Leaving the living room, Shin carried the sleeping Yuzuha in his arms and headed to his room. The Moon Sanctum had rooms for Shin and his support characters, as well as a guest room, though the guest room was unnecessary. It was included simply because Cain’s and Shin’s shared tendency for perfectionism led them to add extra details when building the Moon Sanctum. They went all out on details where it wasn’t really needed, driven by a distinct Japanese sense of wanting everything just right.

“It really hasn’t changed,” Shin murmured as he entered his room, looking around.

The room was about sixteen tatami mats in size, furnished with a bed, a desk, and shelves displaying trophies and items earned from in-game events. It wasn’t cluttered but clean and minimalist, just the way he liked it. Judging by the lack of dust, it was clear someone had been keeping it tidy in his absence.

Normally, moonlight would filter through the window, but tonight, the sky was overcast, and the light was faint. Shin, equipped with the skill Night Vision, didn’t bother turning on any lights. He quietly changed into his chosen sleepwear—a joke piece of gear, a tracksuit—and climbed into bed.

After all, there were no pajamas in his inventory.

Yuzuha immediately leapt onto the bed the moment they entered the room, curling up next to the pillow as if it were her natural spot.

“No matter what, this place feels the most relaxing,” Shin murmured to himself. Maybe it was because he had lived here during his time in the game. The room’s perfect security, thanks to advanced enchantments, meant he didn’t have to set up any barriers himself, which was a welcome change. Unlike during the death game, there was no need to worry about being attacked in his sleep.

For the first time since arriving in this world, Shin finally felt completely at ease.

Not that it would matter much. If someone were foolish enough to attack, they’d face quick retaliation.

“Yuzuha’s already asleep, huh? Well, I guess I should turn in, too,” Shin said, reclining onto the bed. Feeling warm and slightly buzzed from the alcohol, he let his body sink into the mattress, ready to drift off.

As his eyelids grew heavy and his thoughts began to fade into the haze of sleep, something soft suddenly coiled around his right arm. It wasn’t a jolt that startled him awake but a gentle sensation that made him blink in mild confusion.

Usually, such an event would make Shin jump up, ready to defend himself. But this time, there was no feeling of danger, not in his instincts, nor in his constantly active anti-ambush skills.

“?”

Instead of coiling, it felt more like someone was wrapping his arm in a gentle embrace. In the Moon Sanctum, only two people could do such a gesture. One was already deeply asleep, and the other…

He waited quietly, but the embrace continued. Slowly, Shin turned his head toward his right arm. There, Schnee was clinging to his arm and already asleep. His arm was nestled into her chest, which explained the softness he had felt earlier.

Is this… really happening?

This wasn’t like when he’d been savoring Schnee’s cooking; this was a completely different kind of tension.

After all, Shin was still a man. Schnee wasn’t just an NPC anymore; she was real, unmistakably so. Pretending otherwise was impossible. And, to be completely honest, Schnee embodied every one of Shin’s preferences; the outcome of careful customization.

If she had simply been lying next to him, Shin could have carried her to another room and gently tucked her into bed. But the warmth of her body and the softness of her chest pressing against his arm kept him frozen, shattering his composure. Against his better judgment, his left hand instinctively reached toward her.

This is bad.

Shin wasn’t about to blame the alcohol, but he couldn’t look away from Schnee’s defenseless sleeping face.

He knew. He knew this wasn’t right.

Despite his best efforts to calm his heated mind, rationality refused to take hold. Her expression was completely open, pure, and… faintly tinged with sorrow.

Just a little longer, Shin thought, making a flimsy excuse to himself, trying to justify delaying the moment when he would carefully pull her away.

Then, it happened. The clouds parted, and the moonlight flooded into the room.

The previously muted light now softly illuminated the space, reaching all the way to the bed and bathing Schnee in its glow.

“…?!”

Schnee’s body seemed to shimmer softly in the moonlight. Her silver hair spread across the bed, catching the light and taking on an almost otherworldly glow. And from her closed eyes, something sparkled as it fell.

“Schnee…” Shin whispered.

It was a tear, a single, glowing streak that ran down her cheek and soaked into Shin’s sleeve.

“…”

The moment he saw it, the haze clouding Shin’s thoughts cleared away. The heat he’d been trying to control vanished instantly.

Her sorrowful expression showed no hesitation.

He didn’t understand why she was crying. Was it from happiness at their reunion? Or was it because she foresaw the separation ahead of them?

Gently, he reached out and wiped the tear from her cheek, then softly stroked her hair.

“Ah… Ugh… Shi…”

Her murmured words were too faint to fully understand, but Shin thought he heard the word “Master.” Maybe she still wasn’t used to calling him Shin.

What am I?

Shin looked up at the ceiling, his right arm still in Schnee’s hold as his thoughts swirled. Even as the night grew darker and his mind started to fade, no answer came.

Part 2

Over half a day earlier.

While Shin and Schnee hurried to meet Wilhelm and the others, events were unfolding on the now-desolate plains of the former Wraith Plains. Once a battlefield, it had become a wide, barren expanse. Knights and adventurers, realizing the battle was over, had gathered there to start their investigation.

The brilliant pillar of magical light that had reached into the heavens had disappeared, leaving the area in darkness. The mages gathered to cast illumination spells, providing artificial light to aid their investigation. While they could have waited for dawn to start, the urgency of the situation required immediate action.

The absence of Schnee Raizar, who had been involved in the battle, suggested that there was at least no immediate danger. This hope gave them a fragile sense of relief.

“What on earth was that?” murmured a solitary woman, her voice soft yet edged with unease, as she gazed over the battlefield still stained by recent carnage.

Her golden hair, as radiant as spun sunlight, danced in the breeze. She was Ryonne Sytrail Bayrelitch, the second princess of the Kingdom of Bayrelitch.

It had only been a few hours earlier. Ryonne, accompanied by her knights, had been fighting Skullfaces in the forest. The event that followed had burned itself into her memory.

A soundless scream, a keening wail of anguish and despair, suddenly pierced the night. It wasn’t a voice, but it echoed through the air and her very soul.

At the same time, a new wave of Skullfaces, much stronger than anything she had faced before, started to appear. One by one, they crawled out of the ground as if called by the eerie cry.

Ryonne could only watch as these new enemies emerged before her, each emanating an overwhelming presence. Compared to the earlier foes, their strength was on an entirely different level.

Her initial reaction was fear.

It wasn’t fear of death or being killed. It was the terror of imagining the carnage these creatures would cause if they escaped from the plains. The thought alone sent a chill down her spine.

They could not be allowed to escape the plains. That firm belief filled her mind.

Disregarding her subordinates’ warnings, Ryonne charged into battle, her sword clashing with the blades of the undead.

Every strike she delivered sent shockwaves through her arm. Their agility and skill rivaled that of elite knights. Even among the famed warriors known as the Chosen Ones, Ryonne was considered one of the strongest. Facing enemies on equal footing was a rare occurrence.

What gave her an advantage was her weapon, a large white greatsword that had mysteriously appeared embedded in her chamber wall a few days earlier. Infused with light magic, the blade was a bane to the undead, weakening the Skullfaces with each strike.

Unfortunately, the sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. Except for one subordinate, none of the other knights could stand up to them.

Confronted with this dire situation, Ryonne sent messengers to summon reinforcements while throwing herself into the chaos. Her aim was clear: to attract the enemy’s attention and buy time so the monstrous horde wouldn’t break free from the battlefield.

With only one knight by her side, she charged directly into the middle of the enemy swarm.

In front of her, a higher-tier Skullface appeared. The one she’d faced earlier had probably been a Jack-class, but the one now before her could only be a Queen- or even King-class.

It was impossible—it should have been impossible.

The destruction caused by a single King-class Skullface in the past was still deeply ingrained in people's memories. Now, such creatures were appearing in numbers that could fill the plains. It was a catastrophe of unprecedented scale.

Ryonne felt death closing in on her, the cold breath of the Grim Reaper brushing her skin. Her body trembled, but she steadied herself, tightening her grip on her sword.

Just as she prepared herself, a hail of crimson projectiles poured down from the sky.

Each shot hit its target, creating holes all the way through the Skullfaces, punching through their shields, swords, armor, limbs, and even their cores. The barrage left the creatures riddled with holes, their forms collapsing under the onslaught.

At first glance, it resembled the Fire-type Art Magic Fireball. However, these projectiles moved with unnatural precision, homing in on their targets with much greater power. Unlike traditional fire magic, these attacks didn’t cause explosions. Instead, the impact points glowed briefly before the affected parts of the Skullfaces vanished, as if erased completely.

Ryonne thought it was strange that none of the projectiles hit her, but it was obvious she was being supported. She felt a wave of gratitude toward her unseen ally as she refocused on the surrounding Skullfaces and prepared her sword again.

Suddenly, a streak of blue lightning sliced through the battlefield ahead of her.

It was a lightning-type magical skill, perfected by a legendary figure who had saved countless nations. Unlike ordinary techniques, this was a skill, an elite method with unmatched destructive power.

When the dazzling flash faded, the figure that appeared was exactly who Ryonne had expected. Her silver hair danced in the wind, and her calm, resolute voice cut through the chaos. It was none other than Schnee Raizar, the acting manager of the Moon Sanctum.

Her appearance was the same as during their last encounter. Just seeing her made Ryonne feel like death had been driven away.

The blue lightning appeared to have wiped out even the Grim Reaper.

“I will handle this area. Please take care of the ones scattered in the forest,” Schnee said in her calm and composed tone.

Ryonne nodded and spun around. She caught a glimpse of the Skullfaces shattering like fragile wood as Schnee launched her attack.

As she continued to cut down the Skullfaces scattered throughout the forest, a sudden, blinding brightness flooded the area, as if it were midday. In that moment, all the Skullfaces she had been fighting disintegrated into ash.

The next Skullfaces Ryonne faced moved slowly, breaking apart with a single swing of her sword. These enemies, once evenly matched with her, had become so weakened that even a typical knight could defeat them.

The cause was probably the light that now illuminated the plains with a soft, gentle glow. Ryonne could sense her wounds healing beneath its warmth.

There was no mistaking it; only Schnee could pull off something like this.

Soon, the remaining Skullfaces disintegrated into pure magical essence and faded into the air. Seeing this, Ryonne realized the crisis had finally ended.

Now, Ryonne stood amid the aftermath of what must have been Schnee’s battle. The scars on the land were staggering. The earth had been gouged deeply, with torn ground stretching for hundreds of mels. In some places, it looked as if the soil had melted completely.

At spots where conflicts appeared to have happened, there were notably deep cuts carved into the ground alongside scorch marks from what must have been high-voltage lightning strikes.

The battle's enormous destructive power defied the imagination.

Ryonne thought of her elder sister, the First Princess, who possessed powerful magical abilities. Even she might manage to do something similar, but only from afar. Charging into a Skullface horde for close combat while sustaining such overwhelming attacks? That was unthinkable.

“So this… is the power of someone acknowledged by a high human,” Ryonne murmured, her voice filled with awe.

Once again, she was struck by how much stronger she was. This showed she was in an entirely different league.

Though Ryonne was often praised for having the strength of over a hundred warriors, she felt like little more than a mere knight compared to Schnee.

“Sorry to interrupt your reverie, Princess, but could you take a look at this?” came a voice.

One of her subordinates had been investigating the surrounding area. The speaker was a large man with an imposing frame in red armor. His name was Gadras Jarl.

Gadras was the commander of the Royal Knights of Bayrelitch and leader of the elite unit known as the Red Wolves, celebrated as the kingdom’s strongest.

He was there to offer support during combat and, more importantly, to make sure that Ryonne didn’t become too reckless. However, during this particular incident, even he had been too busy fighting the Skullfaces head-on to do his usual job. Gadras bore the scars of his fight; his red armor was pocked with dents and scratches, showing how fierce the battle had been.

As the only warrior among the knights capable of matching Ryonne in close combat, Gadras was both her overseer and sparring partner. However, this time, even he had barely managed to hold his ground.

Now, he held a single sword in his hand.

The hilt was battered, blackened, and charred. The blade was cracked and chipped, with large sections missing. In its current condition, it could no longer be called a functional weapon. It was, for all intents and purposes, a dead sword.

“What’s this?” Ryonne asked, her eyes locked on the battered sword.

“I found it stuck at the end of that gouge in the ground over there,” Gadras replied, gesturing toward the deeply carved earth. “The blade’s angle matches the trajectory of the trench exactly, so I figured I’d bring it back.”

The way the sword was positioned on the scarred ground indicated that the blade had caused the destruction.

“My gut tells me that this sword’s what carved up the ground like that,” Gadras continued. “I don’t know what kind of skill or art was used, though.”

“Hmm, it’s a plausible theory,” Ryonne murmured.

Schnee Raizar had occupied the battlefield, likely with one other person. Considering Schnee’s abilities, it’s possible that she, or her mysterious ally, could have used such a weapon to devastating effect.

“But here’s the thing,” Gadras said, pointing to a specific area on the blade. “What do you see here?”

Ryonne peered closer. “It looks like… a bird of some kind?”

“Exactly. Someone knowledgeable mentioned it’s probably a falcon.”

“And? Is that significant?” Ryonne tilted her head in confusion. Gadras’s excitement seemed unusual. “Surely there’s more than one smith who engraves falcons on their blades. Why make such a big deal?”

“You’ll see what I mean,” Gadras said, gripping the damaged hilt tightly.

With a deliberate motion, he lifted the sword high and brought it down in a single, clean slash. The blade hit the ground with a sharp crack.

“I see,” Ryonne murmured, her face changing to show she understood.

Her eyes were fixed on the fresh gouge carved into the earth. Even for Gadras, a chosen warrior, making such a cut with a blade in such poor condition should have been impossible. Yet, the blade, though chipped and cracked, had not shattered or bent.

“Ordinarily, a blade in this condition would break or crumble under that kind of force,” Gadras pointed out. “But not this one. Even with that strike, it stayed intact. No way this is the work of an average smith.”

“Indeed,” Ryonne agreed, her thoughts racing. “If it were fully intact, one can only imagine the power it could unleash.”

“That’s just it. There’s only one smith I know of who could craft a sword like this with that kind of engraving.”

“Hmm, who is it?” Ryonne asked, intentionally keeping her tone calm. Gadras’s voice had become more excited, and she wanted to keep the talk steady.

“The high human. Specifically, the one known as the ‘Dark Blacksmith,’ renowned for mastering the art of smithing.”

“I see,” Ryonne replied, nodding slightly. “If a high human, especially one skilled in smithing, crafted this blade, it would explain its extraordinary nature. However, they are said to no longer exist in this world. If it belongs to Schnee Raizar, her being a direct subordinate of a high human, it wouldn’t be surprising for her to carry such a weapon. But given the skills and radiance that helped us, we must also consider the possibility of the Crimson Alchemist.”

Ryonne’s mention of the alchemist referred to none other than Hecate, the mage and alchemist of the legendary Six Devas. Their fame in crafting and production had earned them many titles related to their professions. The colors associated with their names came from their preferred attire.

“Well, we have no solid proof,” Gadras admitted, his tone sobering slightly. “But just finding a high human-crafted weapon here is monumental. Besides, I can’t imagine someone like Schnee Raizar leaving her master’s weapon in this state or abandoning it entirely after a battle. That just doesn’t fit her character. Which makes me think there was someone else, someone so extraordinary that they could treat such a weapon as disposable.”

Ryonne considered Gadras’s words, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “This battle was unlike anything we’ve faced before. Did you see the light that lit up the night? Such a fierce fight might have left even Schnee Raizar without the luxury of worrying about conserving her weapon. But you’re right about one thing: someone else was there with her. The question remains: who?”

Gadras said thoughtfully, “I can’t imagine Schnee Raizar being pushed to her limits.”

Ryonne voiced her doubts. She had seen Schnee effortlessly wipe out the Skullfaces, and the image of her commanding the battlefield was stuck in her mind. Ryonne found it hard to reconcile that scene with the idea of Schnee being under so much pressure that she would give up such a weapon.

Her thoughts drifted back to the unseen ally who had supported her with those powerful magical skills. Judging by their scale and strength, the caster had to be at least a Chosen One or a high human.

Could it be that this figure teamed up with Schnee Raizar after Ryonne and her team left for the forest? If such a powerful person were there, who might they be?

“Surely not,” Ryonne muttered quietly.

Could a high human have been there?

The sword Gadras held was clearly superior to the one she wielded herself. Few could afford to treat such a blade as disposable. It was a piece of exceptional craftsmanship, forged to become legendary.

“No, it’s impossible,” Ryonne said firmly, shaking her head to dispel the thought. The high humans had vanished during the Day of Fallen Glory, disappearing along with countless others. No one had ever returned from that mysterious disaster, and the mystery behind it remained unsolved.

And yet, despite herself, Ryonne couldn’t completely dismiss the idea.

But… what if?

The high humans, those celebrated as heroes and champions, were said to have defeated countless enemies in their era. Such a legendary reputation made it entirely believable that they would come back.

“Enough. There’s no point speculating when the truth remains elusive,” Ryonne muttered to herself.

She couldn’t identify who had been at the scene earlier, but if they were connected to Schnee Raizar, they probably weren’t a threat. Monitoring the Moon Sanctum might require moving some personnel around, but Ryonne saw it as a minor issue.

“Once the investigation is finished, I’ll return to the kingdom. I’d prefer to have a proper conversation with Schnee-dono if possible.”

“That would be rather difficult, wouldn’t it?” Gadras replied curtly. Ryonne nodded in agreement, acknowledging the reality.

Schnee Raizar never lingered once an assignment was finished. Invitations from all directions would flood in, causing chaos for everyone involved. This time, however, the thought of that headache felt strangely distant.

“Gadras. If I’m not mistaken, the Dark Blacksmith is the owner of the Moon Sanctum, correct?” Ryonne asked.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Gadras replied.

“Hmm… Then I’ll make sure to visit the Moon Sanctum as soon as we return.”

“Forgive me for asking, but do you honestly believe the high human has returned?”

“It’s clear that at least one other person was on that battlefield. We need to verify who they are. And if the high human truly has returned, I’d love the chance to spar with them. They’d also be a great match for marriage.”

“W-What?! You can’t just say something like that out of the blue!” Gadras exclaimed, visibly flustered.

Ryonne’s sudden declaration caught him completely off guard. However, when considered rationally, the idea made strategic sense. If the kingdom could gain the loyalty of a high human by dedicating one princess, it would be a good deal. Even Gadras recognized this.

The problem was that Princess Ryonne often left people questioning whether her brain was just muscle.

Although it wasn’t true, Ryonne was often said to have declared, “If you wish to bind yourself to me, then prove your worth by defeating me in battle.” How many times had the king and his retainers wished she hadn’t said such a thing?

Ryonne recognized her role as a princess. She cared deeply for her people and was aware that she might someday be forced into an unwanted marriage. Still, even with this understanding, her actions often bordered on problematic territory. If the dangerous situation with the Skullfaces spilling out of the Wraith Plains hadn’t been happening, her behavior might have caused fewer concerns.

Sending a princess beyond the borders—and worse, into a battlefield—was a risky decision. However, with Ryonne and Gadras, both skilled and capable, serving as the Chosen Ones, the danger seemed manageable. Their presence was meant to show other nations that the kingdom would work hard to cooperate when needed. Additionally, Ryonne’s strength and beauty were used to boost the knights' morale, a dual purpose that justified her involvement in the current investigation and extermination mission.

Admittedly, Schnee’s presence had mostly overshadowed the latter role, but Ryonne still carried out her responsibilities.

There was, however, just one issue that marred her otherwise perfect character: her eccentric nature. It was here that her reputation for having a “partially muscle-bound brain” began.

“Just to be clear,” Gadras said with a cautious look, “please don’t do anything reckless, like suddenly challenging them to a duel. If we make a high human into an enemy, our entire kingdom could be wiped out.”

“I’m not that thoughtless,” Ryonne replied, her tone indignant.

“Right, and which mouth is saying that?” Gadras shot back with a weary sigh. “Anyway, even if it is a real high human, they wouldn’t take you seriously.”

Despite her intelligence, Ryonne’s talent for giving unexpectedly quirky answers always frustrated Gadras. The excitement he had when discovering the blade now felt like a distant memory.

Part 3

The morning after staying overnight at the Moon Sanctum.

“It’s so bright,” Shin muttered as he awoke.

The first thing that came to mind was how harsh the sunlight was. He had forgotten to close the curtains, and the morning sun streamed across the bed, now shining directly on his face.

“What time is it?”

Having gone to sleep without setting an alarm, Shin had no idea what time it was. He brought up the menu screen to check; it was a little past 6:30.

“Schnee… isn’t here,” he noted.

The presence that had clung to his right arm as he fell asleep, Schnee, was nowhere in sight. She had probably already woken up. The soft smell of breakfast drifting through the air confirmed Shin’s suspicion.

As he processed that thought, a strange sensation on his left arm drew his attention. A sinking feeling filled his chest. Slowly, he turned his head and was greeted by a cascade of silver hair spread across the bed. At first glance, he might have thought it was Schnee, but the body beneath the hair was much too small.

A girl who looked about ten years old was sleeping soundly in the nude.

Her identity was…

“Yuzuha, huh?” Shin sighed.

Analyze revealed the girl’s name. It seemed her comment about feeling clearer in her mind after yesterday’s battle was probably connected to some seal being broken. The sudden increase in her level, her new ability to speak, and even this human-like form—all of it could be explained if that was the case.

After all, in the game, she was a top-tier monster at level 1000, able to speak and transform into a human by default. It would seem odd for her to stay in her fox form instead.

Now, with her fox ears and tail still intact, she had a form that was entirely irresistible for certain fans.

“Still, this is quite the precarious situation,” Shin muttered.

In situations like these, it was all too common for someone to burst in at the wrong moment, causing misunderstandings and a quick, unfair punch to the face.

There was no sign of anyone coming from the other side of the door yet, but he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

“Hey, Yuzuha, wake up. It’s morning,” Shin said, grabbing her shoulder and giving her a shake. Keeping one ear trained on the door, he jostled her a little more firmly.

“Mnyuu… What is it?” she mumbled.

“I’ll say it again, it’s morning.”

“I’m sleepy…”

It seemed her mental age matched her appearance. Shin remembered the Element Tail from the game, speaking in an old-fashioned, formal way, but her tone now was entirely that of a young child.

“Come on, time to get up,” Shin urged.

“Mmm? Oh, Shin! Morning!” she chirped, her voice brightening as her sleepy eyes focused on him. She smiled at him with a carefree “hee-hee” expression, a sight that would have made some people melt in admiration.

“Yes, good morning. Now, once you’re up, put some clothes on,” Shin replied. Yuzuha was still a little groggy, but when she realized it was Shin who had woken her, she gave him a cheerful, innocent grin. Her sleepy but sunny disposition was so charming that it could easily make others melt with delight.

With a delighted expression, Yuzuha began putting on her shrine maiden outfit. Thanks to its size-adjusting feature, her small frame was no issue.

However, whether due to her fuzzy memory or simply inexperience, it didn’t take more than a few minutes before parts of the outfit became visibly misaligned and started slipping out of place.

“Shin…” Yuzuha called out softly, her voice filled with helplessness.

“If you didn’t know how to do it, you should’ve just said so from the start,” Shin replied with a sigh, stepping in to fix the disheveled outfit.

The reason Shin knew how to correctly dress someone in a shrine maiden outfit was simple: the item’s notes included an illustrated guide. Some clothing items in the game also came with similar instructions, though the reasons for this remained a mystery.

Once everything was ready, Shin gave Yuzuha a pair of tabi socks he had taken from his inventory. After she put them on, she twirled happily on the bed, her mood clearly lifted.

“Kuu!”

“Don’t move around too much; your outfit will come undone again,” Shin warned.

“If it does, Shin can help me dress again!” Yuzuha chirped playfully.

“Cut that out.”

Yuzuha twirled around, her tail swaying beneath her hakama. Her posture seemed straighter, probably because of the shrine maiden outfit. It’s like wearing a martial arts uniform; it just makes you stand taller.

“All right, enough spinning. Let’s go. Breakfast should be ready soon.”

“Breakfast!” Yuzuha exclaimed, ears perking up.

“You’re hungry too, right?”

“Yup!”

“Then let’s get going.” Shin paused, sensing something. “Hmm? Someone’s coming… It’s Tiera, isn’t it? Wait, crap!”

He suddenly realized he hadn’t explained Yuzuha to Tiera yet.

“Shin, are you up? Breakfast is almost ready!” Tiera called, knocking.

“Ah, yeah. I’ll be right th—” Shin started, but Yuzuha dashed ahead.

“Food!” she yelled, flinging the door open.

“Wha—?! Yuzuha, stop!” Shin shouted, but too late.

“Eh?” Yuzuha blinked as a thud echoed.

“Ow…” Tiera groaned.

Shin peeked around the door. “Tiera?” he asked.

Tiera sat on the floor, holding her nose. “Ugh… Who’s this child?”

“This is Yuzuha,” Shin said. “She has transformation abilities. Yuzuha, apologize.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Yuzuha mumbled.

“I see,” Tiera said, smiling. “It’s okay, Yuzuha-chan. I didn’t hit myself too hard. But be careful opening doors, okay? Oh, and good morning.”

Tiera smiled warmly, trying to reassure Yuzuha. Since Yuzuha’s behavior matched her apparent age, Tiera probably assumed she was simply an overexcited child.

“Got it. Um, good morning,” Yuzuha said, bowing slightly.

Watching the two interact, Shin started to think. Judging by Yuzuha’s current condition, this was probably her limit for now. She hadn’t gained a level since yesterday, and her mental state was clearly still not fully recovered. Why her powers had been sealed remained a mystery, but it was something Shin needed to investigate. There was clearly something beyond his understanding at work.

“All right, if we’re all set, let’s go. Breakfast is waiting, right?” Shin said.

“Yeah, it’s ready, just needs plating. Master’s already there,” Tiera replied.

“Food, food!” Yuzuha chanted, swaying her tail.

“You were a fox before, right? Yuzuha-chan, do you like fried tofu?” Tiera asked with a playful grin.

“I love it!” Yuzuha said, eyes lighting up.

“Then maybe we’ll have inari sushi for lunch,” Tiera offered.

“Really?!” Yuzuha squealed, practically bouncing with excitement. The scene was so heartwarming it almost looked like a pair of affectionate sisters.

“Good morning. Oh my, Yuzuha can transform into a human now?” Schnee greeted them as they entered the living room, her hands busy setting the table. Having already known that Yuzuha was an Element Tail, she didn’t seem particularly surprised.

Shin chose not to bring up the chaos from the night before.

“G-Good morning,” Yuzuha stammered, a bit nervous compared to her earlier enthusiasm.

“Good morning,” Schnee replied kindly, smiling as she returned the greeting. She noticed Yuzuha’s small hand still clutching Shin’s pant leg and gave her a reassuring nod. Only then did Yuzuha finally let go.

The table was big enough for four people to sit comfortably, leaving lots of space. As Schnee prepared a plate for Yuzuha, Shin brought over an extra chair for her to sit on.

“Well then, let’s eat,” Schnee said, taking her seat.

“Itadakimasu!” Yuzuha chimed enthusiastically.

The breakfast menu included white rice, miso soup with wakame, tofu, fried tofu, and a grilled fish that looked a lot like horse mackerel. Shin had thought at first that Japanese-style meals wouldn’t be a good fit for elves, but seeing Schnee skillfully use wooden chopsticks to flake the fish looked unexpectedly natural. Yuzuha, however, struggled with chopsticks and chose to use a spoon instead.

“It’s delicious!” Yuzuha exclaimed, her face lighting up.

“As expected of Master,” Tiera added with a smile.

“This is amazing,” Shin said, visibly impressed.

The room was filled with praise. The meal wasn’t fancy, but it was so tasty that Shin doubted he’d ever had anything this good, even in the real world.

“My cooking benefits from the skills, so it’s nothing to boast about,” Schnee said modestly.

“Is it really that much of a boost?” Shin asked curiously.

“The flavor should be enhanced by at least two levels,” Schnee replied calmly.

“Even so, the skill doesn’t matter if the base isn’t good. You’re still amazing,” Shin countered.

“He’s right,” Tiera chimed in. “You practiced so much to get to this point.”

Tiera started recounting Schnee’s efforts, dismissing her modesty. Although cooking skills provided various bonuses, they couldn’t turn a bad dish into a good one. If something was bad, it stayed bad. Even with the enhancements, Schnee’s cooking skills remained exceptional.

“Thank you for the meal,” Shin said, finishing his plate.

“You’re welcome,” Schnee replied with a slight bow. “It wasn’t much.”

After breakfast, Schnee and Tiera handled the cleanup while Shin went to the forge at the back of the Moon Sanctum. Yuzuha followed, clearly curious.

“What’s over here?” Yuzuha asked, her tail swishing excitedly.

“There’s a storage room and a forge,” Shin explained. “The storage is a bit special; it holds a lot more than it looks like it can.”

The Moon Sanctum’s storage room wasn’t as large as a guild-house’s, but it still held an impressive collection of items. Since it was Shin’s personal storage, its contents mainly consisted of weapons and armor.

When Yuzuha expressed her desire to see it, Shin decided to make a quick detour.

The storage room’s entrance looked like a regular door with a heavy lock. However, it was so tough that even during the game, Shin couldn’t break it no matter how hard he hit it. It was said to be physically indestructible.

“Just gotta flow some magic into it…” Shin muttered.

With a soft clink, the lock disengaged. It responded to magical recognition, so fiddling with the keyhole wouldn't open it; it was just for show.

Shin pushed the door open, revealing a room packed to the brim with weapons, weapons, and more weapons.

Swords, katanas, spears, bows, daggers, war hammers, halberds, and flails—every kind of weapon imaginable was on display. In a different section, full suits of armor, samurai gear, custom-made gauntlets, and shields were neatly arranged. Each item was rare, ranging from special unique-class pieces to legendary, mythological, and even ancient-class artifacts.

Even someone not especially sensitive to magic would feel the intense pressure the instant they entered this room. Each item radiated overwhelming magical energy, varying in amount and quality, but all far beyond what any resident of this world would consider normal. Calling it extraordinary would be an understatement.

This was a true treasure trove. Selling even one piece from this collection would trigger fierce bidding wars among nations competing for prestige. The vast array of such priceless artifacts made the storage room feel like a maze-like den of power.

“Wow! This is amazing! But it feels tingly,” Yuzuha said, her tail twitching.

“It’s the magic. If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to come in,” Shin replied.

“Nope, I’m fine!” she said confidently.

Although she appeared young, Yuzuha’s reputation as an Element Tail, one of the strongest, was evident. While her current low level prevented her from fully shrugging off the pressure, she stayed calm, looking around the room with wide-eyed curiosity. Her tail, however, fluffed out straight, though Shin chose wisely not to mention it.

“You can look, but don’t touch anything, okay? Some of these weapons are cursed,” Shin warned.

“Are they dangerous?”

“Very. Some could do more than just injure you. The storage containers have sealing functions, but I’d bet there are a few you could accidentally break open.”

“Humph, Yuzuha wouldn’t break anything!” she said, puffing out her cheeks in indignation.

Shin chuckled and apologized before guiding her to the forge. The forge was just as he remembered, well-maintained, as if patiently waiting for its master’s return.

“Everything looks fine here. I could start crafting right away,” Shin said, examining the equipment.

“What are you going to do?” Yuzuha asked, her head tilting.

“I make things here; swords, armor, that kind of stuff. But before I start, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“Ask me something?”

“A lot of things. For now, let’s head back to the living room. I’ll ask you there. I’ll work on the sword afterward.”

“Okay, let’s hurry! I want to see Shin making a sword!” Yuzuha said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

She hurried toward the living room, unable to hide her excitement. Shin, unsure why she was so excited, quickly checked his tools before following her. By now, Schnee and Tiera had likely finished tidying up.

When Shin arrived, the three were already sitting around the table. Yuzuha waved him over impatiently, her excitement making Shin smile faintly as he took his seat.

“What do you want to ask, Shin?” Yuzuha asked eagerly.

“First, why were you so weak when I found you at that shrine? And another thing, do you know anything about that incident about 500 years ago when a large number of people disappeared?”

Yuzuha crossed her arms, her face tightening in thought as she closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she spoke.

“Well… I was at the shrine because it hurt less there. Whenever I went outside, it felt so painful I’d collapse,” she explained.

“I see. Do you know anything about the patterns that were drawn on the floor there?” Shin asked.

“Hmm… Nope,” Yuzuha replied, shaking her head.

Shin thought the patterns might have some purpose to delay or ease her symptoms, but it seemed Yuzuha didn’t remember anything about them.

“What about the people who disappeared?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Not many people came by,” Yuzuha said.

“That’s right. There was something like a barrier around the area to keep people away…” Shin murmured, recalling the mental barrier that had been around the shrine. That must have been why no one ventured close to it.

“So, what exactly were you doing at the shrine?” Shin asked.

“Well, I was sunbathing,” Yuzuha started. “Then all of a sudden, the ground went boom, and the wind started whooshing everywhere. The mountain went kaboom! It scared me, so I jumped up. After that, I did my best to stop the ground from breaking apart.”

“So, basically, a natural disaster occurred, and you were trying to stop it?” Shin clarified, his brow furrowing.

“That’s probably what happened,” Schnee added calmly, nodding in agreement.

As Schnee nodded in agreement, Tiera’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, is that true?” she asked, astonished.

Shin wasn’t sure exactly how Yuzuha managed it, but Element Tails were monsters attuned to all attributes. It was very likely she’d used some special method to interfere with the natural disaster.

“I kept trying my best,” Yuzuha explained, “but then all my strength drained away, and I had to rest at the shrine. My body felt so weak, and I thought I was going to die… but then Shin came to save me.”

“So, you were cutting it pretty close,” Shin remarked, his tone serious.

“A really gross wind started blowing, and it scared me,” Yuzuha added, shivering at the memory.

Shin frowned. That “gross wind” was probably miasma. Its presence likely caused the Curse and Poison effects from that time. In the game, areas with high miasma levels would spawn more monsters at higher levels, and players would sometimes be afflicted with status effects based on their stats—a particularly troublesome mechanic.

For high-ranked players, managing status effects was simple: consistently using top-tier recovery potions neutralized the problem. However, for monsters, the miasma’s effects could have much more serious consequences.

“It’s thanks to Millie that I was able to help Yuzuha,” Shin said. “If it weren’t for her suggestion, I might not have acted in time.”

“Then we should go thank Mii-chan again!” Yuzuha said cheerfully with a nod.

“Yeah, let’s bring her a gift this time,” Shin replied. He spoke carefully, making sure not to reveal anything about Millie’s role as a Star Reader. Whether Yuzuha understood or not, she naturally followed Shin’s lead.

“Um, who’s Millie?” Tiera asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

“She’s a girl who lives at the kingdom’s orphanage. We met by chance,” Shin explained. “If you know Wilhelm, you’d recognize her as one of the orphans he protects.”

“Oh, him,” Tiera said, nodding.

“You know Wilhelm?” Shin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He visits Master from time to time,” Tiera said. “It’s rare to see him, though. He’d often buy sweets from me, and I always wondered why… but if he was taking them to the orphanage, that makes sense.”

Apparently, Wilhelm often bought Tiera’s confections.

“Tiera’s sweets are delicious,” Schnee said with a smile.

“No, it’s because they’re cheap,” Tiera replied modestly. “Master’s sweets are a lot better. Didn’t someone from the royal household once come to buy some? Mine are just unique because they’re based on elven recipes from my village.”

The mutual compliments between Schnee and Tiera made it obvious that both were skilled bakers.

“Elven recipes, huh? What kind of sweets are they?” Shin asked.

“Well, there’s one called Cafalle, a type of baked treat. Have you heard of it?” Tiera replied.

“No, that’s a first for me,” Shin said, shaking his head.

He didn’t recall any game lore about elves specializing in confections. Cooking had never been his focus, so although he had collected recipes, many of them he’d never tried, let alone mastered.

“It’s most similar to financier cakes,” Schnee added. “They’re bite-sized, making them perfect for giving to children.”

“I started selling them on a whim, but now they’re one of our top sellers,” Tiera said, smiling. “Since elves traditionally live in forests, we’re especially good at making honey-based sweets.”

“Interesting,” Shin said before furrowing his brow. “Wait a minute. The Moon Sanctum wasn’t supposed to specialize in food products, right? What about other sales?”

“We had limited items to sell while you were gone,” Schnee explained. “I don’t know much about smithing, and only you could open the storage room where the weapons and armor were kept.”

Replenishing stock seemed difficult because sourcing items elsewhere might have led to disputes over supplier rights. Without someone to manage or unlock the inventory, running low on goods was unavoidable.

“Sorry about that. I should’ve made it so you could open the storage room, too,” Shin said, guilt creeping into his voice.

“Even if I could open it, most of the items aren’t suitable for sale,” Schnee replied softly.

“True. It wouldn’t have solved the problem,” Shin admitted. The Moon Sanctum had always operated modestly, even during the game era. It made sense.

“If you could restock items when you have time, that would help,” Schnee said with a slight bow.

“Got it. Anyway, we’ve gotten sidetracked. Yuzuha, can we continue?” Shin asked, turning back to her.

“Okay,” Yuzuha said, nodding. “But I don’t know much else. I stayed at the shrine the whole time.”

Even for an Element Tail, interfering with natural disasters appeared to be a daunting task. Considering her efforts to reduce the damage after The Day of Fallen Glory, it wasn’t fair to expect her to know the broader details of world events.

“I see. If you remember anything else, just let me know,” Shin said.

“Okay, I will! Um, Tiera-nee-chan, do you still have any of those Cafalle sweets?” Yuzuha asked, perking up.

With the discussion finished, Yuzuha turned her full attention to Tiera, eagerly asking about the confections. She seemed so captivated by the sweets that she had forgotten about the forge, her tail wagging with excitement. It was a behavior perfectly suited to her youthful appearance.

“I’m sorry, but before that… Shin, there’s one more thing I need to talk to you about,” Schnee interjected, her voice steady but serious.

“What is it?” Shin asked, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.

Schnee, who had been calm moments ago, now carried a serious demeanor that stopped the dispersing mood in the room. It seemed she had been waiting for the right moment to bring this up.

“The truth is, there’s someone I urgently need you to meet. I understand there are many matters requiring investigation, but I must ask you to prioritize this,” Schnee said, her voice steady but tinged with urgency.

“And… who exactly is this person you want me to meet?” Shin asked, sensing a faint edge of anxiety in her voice. It felt like there wasn’t much time left, as if something crucial was weighing on her.

Straightening his posture, Shin waited for Schnee’s explanation.

“I hesitated to bring it up right after our reunion and decided not to mention it yesterday,” Schnee began. “But the one I need you to meet is… Girart.”

“Girart… Wait, are you serious? Girart?” Shin asked, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Girart was one of Shin’s support characters—High Beast No. 3. Still, more than five hundred years after the Day of Fallen Glory, it seemed impossible for Girart to still be alive.

“Is he alive?” Shin asked quietly.

Even high beasts couldn’t escape the inevitability of lifespan. For humans, beasts, and dwarves, living to a hundred years was considered remarkable longevity. In contrast, long-lived races like elves, pixies, dragnils, and lords often exceeded that by a wide margin. These three short-lived species couldn’t compete, and even high beasts and high dwarves, as advanced subspecies, rarely lived beyond 150 years.

For beasts, lifespan varied greatly depending on the animal they were based on. Girart, whose model was a fairly typical wolf, was not of a species known for extraordinary longevity.

Shin had known about Girart becoming a king long ago, but he never thought Girart could still be alive today.

The Farnid Beast Alliance, which united the various beast tribes, was formed during the chaos that swept the world. Girart was the one who forged this alliance amidst those turbulent times.

And the first Beast King was none other than Shin’s support character, High Beast No. 3, Girart Estaria.

The image of Girart still lingered in Shin’s mind. In his human form, he looked like a man in his early forties with short, dark brown hair, almost black, and a scruffy beard. Shin deliberately designed him to stand out from the typical handsome or beautiful characters, choosing instead for a rugged, seasoned look. A wild, battle-hardened guy adds some flavor, he had thought at the time.

When fully armored, Girart radiated the aura of a seasoned warrior, a presence so commanding that Shin felt a surge of pride in his choice at the time.

In combat, Girart would shift into his werewolf form, charging at enemies with the precision of a hunter. Specializing in close-quarters combat, he served on the frontline alongside High Dragnil No. 4, Schweid. Although his magical attack skills were limited, his mobility more than made up for it. Mastering every unarmed combat skill, Girart could hold his own against Schnee under certain conditions, even though her stats were technically higher.

Shin vividly remembered Girart striking down foes with his fists, thunderous roars accompanying each blow.

“That said,” Schnee added somberly, “while it’s not a matter of days, he doesn’t have much time left.”

Even Schnee didn’t know how Girart had managed to survive this long. But one thing was clear:

“He, too, has been waiting for you, Shin.”

Just as Schnee had waited for Shin’s return, so had Girart.

“Girart himself said he doesn’t understand why he’s still alive. But he believes there must be a reason for it,” Schnee explained. Remarkably, he didn’t seem to harbor much fear of his approaching death.

“Practically speaking, the alliance functions just fine without him. The current Beast King is the eighth in line and is not only strong in battle but also competent as a ruler,” she added.

Hearing this, Shin nodded firmly. “If that’s the case, there’s no way I’m not going. Where is he?”

“He’s north of the Wraith Plains you visited the other day. The Beast Alliance spans across plains and forests, and their capital, where the king resides, is considered their version of a human capital. Four major settlements could be called capitals, but Girart is currently in the canine tribe’s settlement, where the current Beast King resides.”

“I see. Just to confirm, there’s no immediate danger on the way there, right?”

“None,” Schnee replied. “At least for the next few years, everything should be fine. Girart himself isn’t in such a weak state that we need to rush.”

“In that case, we’ll travel normally,” Shin decided.

Had it been an emergency, Shin would have used a long-distance travel method he’d reserved for critical situations. But it seemed there was no need for such measures this time.

“All right then,” he said. “There are a few things I need to check first. Once that’s done, we’ll head out. You’ll need to prepare, so is tomorrow good for both of you?”

Shin looked at Yuzuha and Tiera, who had been listening quietly during the conversation.

“Anytime is fine!” Yuzuha chirped.

“Should I stay behind and look after the shop like usual?” Tiera asked. She was used to being entrusted with the Moon Sanctum whenever Schnee was away, so she naturally assumed this time would be no different.

“Tiera, you’re coming with us this time,” Schnee said firmly.

“Me?!” Tiera exclaimed, startled.

“Now that Shin has returned, there’s no need to stay tied to this location,” Schnee explained.

“The perks of a private shop,” Shin added with a small smile.

“But… is it okay to leave the store unattended?” Tiera asked hesitantly.

Schnee responded with a wry smile. “There’s no problem. We’ll bring it with us.”

“B-Bring it with us?” Tiera echoed, her face blank with confusion.

Her expression clearly showed, “What are you even talking about?” and honestly, it wasn’t the kind of statement anyone could take at face value right away.

Shin explained plainly, “The store is portable.”

“Wait… what does that even mean?” Tiera asked, blinking rapidly. She seemed caught between disbelief and the sheer absurdity of the claim.

“It’s rare now, isn’t it? Portable stores or houses?” Shin asked, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“They aren’t unheard of,” Schnee said, “but they’re specialized knowledge. As far as I know, even a small portable shack would fetch a considerable price.”

What was common in Shin’s game era had now become niche, almost legendary technology. It made sense that Tiera wouldn’t know about it.

“Ah, I see. No wonder you didn’t know, Tiera,” Shin said, nodding. “It seems like arts have overtaken skills as the mainstream now, right? Is that true for crafting as well?”

“Yes,” Schnee confirmed. “Crafting is also divided into arts and skills. Arts were developed after the Day of Fallen Glory, when people tried to regain skills they could no longer replicate. Like combat arts, their effectiveness is lower compared to true skills.”

So, it’s like trying to manually recreate game mechanics without system support.

Although nothing should logically occur, this was another world. It was likely that pieces of the original skills’ effects had appeared, and those pieces were what people called arts.

For something like blacksmithing, it made sense. Many techniques from that era couldn't be replicated physically alone. The rise of arts as an alternative wasn’t far-fetched.

“For someone like me, who’s part of the new generation, it’s natural to think in terms of arts,” Tiera said with a shrug. “That’s why there’s always a bit of a disconnect between people like Shin or Master and me. Back before the Day of Fallen Glory, people of Master’s caliber were everywhere, weren’t they? I can’t even imagine what that world was like.”

“Well, there were quite a few, but it’s not like they were everywhere,” Shin replied, scratching his head.

“Still, there were more than you could count on both hands, right?” Tiera pressed. “That alone is overwhelming. To think that people like that were fighting battles all over the place… Honestly, it’s amazing society didn’t collapse.”

“Well, that’s because things were, you know… properly managed. Anyone who went too far got… removed,” Shin said, carefully choosing his words. He couldn’t exactly say, “They were reported to the GMs and had their accounts deleted.” Instead, he settled for something vague.

If such a chaotic world hadn’t been regulated, it would have fallen apart long ago.

“Managed? How?” Tiera asked, skeptical.

“Well, there were people who worked together to keep things under control,” Shin replied. “Anyway, what did you mean earlier by the ‘new generation’?”

“Oh, that?” Tiera said with a nod. “It’s simple. People born after the Day of Fallen Glory are called the new generation, and those born before it who are still alive are the old generation. Apparently, someone from the first nation established after the event started using those terms, and now they’re widely accepted. Honestly, though, when I look at Master and people like you, it feels like the new generation is clearly inferior.”

Tiera’s observation wasn’t wrong. In terms of raw ability, the old generation was undeniably better; Shin and Schnee were prime examples. However, aside from skills, not everyone from the old generation was exceptionally talented.

“Even within the same generation, there’s a range of abilities,” Tiera continued. “So, I don’t usually think much about the difference between the old and the new. But when I’m around people like you or Master, it’s hard not to feel the gap.”

“A generation gap, huh,” Shin mused, though he couldn’t quite relate.

“Just think of it as something that exists and leave it at that,” Tiera said lightly.

While the terms had become widely accepted, they didn’t appear to cause much harm, except in a few cases.

“Let’s get back on track,” Shin said. “As I mentioned earlier, the Moon Sanctum is a mobile store. That’s why I was thinking we could take it along and travel together. Tiera, now that you’ve gotten used to going outside, I thought this would be a good chance for you to see more of the world. Of course, staying here is still an option if you’d prefer.”

He clarified that he wasn’t trying to pressure her into coming.

“In that case, I’ll come along,” Tiera said with a small smile. “I’ve gone outside a few times since then, but I’m still a little scared of entering places like the kingdom. I think I’ll feel safer if I’m with you and the others.”

“Then it’s settled,” Shin said with a nod.

“Everyone together!” Yuzuha cheered, her voice bright and full of excitement. The others nodded in agreement.

With Tiera and Schnee joining the journey, their destination was clear: the Farnid Beast Alliance, where an old friend awaited.

Shin chose his path, making his way through the land of reunions and farewells. What lay ahead was unknown to anyone.

Side Story: Repica

The warmth pressed against her chest and the soft light of morning pulled Schnee from her sleep.

Where… am I?

Her foggy mind started piecing together what happened yesterday.

Shin had come back.

Wilhelm and the others had been surprised to see him.

They’d shared a meal together at the Moon Sanctum.

“I remember putting Tiera to bed and then going back to my own room. So why?” she murmured, only to realize someone else was beside her. Her arms were wrapped around something, or rather, someone.

“What? S-Shin?!”

She fought back the urge to scream, her breathing unsteady as she looked at the person she had unknowingly been holding onto. The messy black hair, the calm face she knew too well, and the eyes she had seen so often shining with intense, dark determination beneath those closed lids. It was him.

Shin, the master of the Moon Sanctum.

“Ah!”

Her face turned a bright red from the proximity, her ears burning as she felt the undeniable sensation of his skin in her touch. She knew she probably looked like a ripe tomato by now.

“Last night…” She remembered feeling tipsy, but definitely not enough to crawl into Shin’s bed without being invited.

“How… careless of me…” she muttered under her breath, conflicted. Despite her embarrassment, her arms betrayed her, refusing to let go of his.

Releasing him as gently as she could, Schnee slipped out of bed, exhaling softly. She had no idea when Shin might wake, and if he did now, how could she possibly explain herself?

Although she desperately wanted to keep watching his sleeping face, Schnee forced herself out of the room. Once back in her own quarters, she hurriedly changed clothes and splashed cool water on her face, the icy sensation helping to erase the blush from her cheeks. The mirror reflected her usual composure.

“First things first… I need to prepare breakfast.”

It was just a little past 5:30 a.m., earlier than usual, but her routine required that breakfast be ready and cleaned up by 7:00. Getting started now seemed as good a distraction as any.

Schnee headed to the kitchen, checked the fridge, decided on the menu, and heard Tiera approaching.

“Oh, Master. Good morning,” Tiera greeted.

“Good morning. You drank quite a bit last night. Are you feeling all right?” Schnee asked with concern.

“Ugh… I’m sorry for causing trouble last night. Thankfully, I don’t have a hangover,” Tiera replied, her shoulders slumping as she apologized. It seemed she remembered enough of the previous night to feel embarrassed.

“In that case, please help me with breakfast preparations. We’ll likely need portions for four,” Schnee said.

“Four? Oh, okay,” Tiera responded, a hint of confusion in her voice. Still, she obediently tied on her apron and started helping.

Schnee put on her own apron too, a pale blue one she liked, while Tiera’s was a gentle green.

“What’s the menu for this morning?” Tiera asked, rolling up her sleeves.

“We’ll go with a Japanese-style breakfast. We have the ingredients for miso soup, and I’ll be using a special fish for the main dish,” Schnee replied.

“Wait, Master, you don’t mean that, do you?” Tiera asked, her surprise evident.

Schnee nodded calmly. The fish in question was an ultra-high-end ingredient, valued at the level of a platinum Jule coin. Its name? Diamond Horse Mackerel.

The dish Schnee intended to prepare was a traditional aji no hiraki, split and dried horse mackerel, but made with this extraordinary fish.

This morning’s Moon Sanctum breakfast featured grilled mackerel and miso soup, exemplifying a traditional Japanese meal. However, the Diamond Horse Mackerel was no common fish. It looked like a typical horse mackerel in shape, but its scales shimmered like diamonds in the light.

Despite its beauty, it was a savage beast with a level range of 450–600, an almost unbelievable power level. Not only was a single one dangerous enough, but they traveled in groups. These creatures could eat level 500 shark monsters or even smaller krakens as if they were just snacks.

The few that occasionally appeared on the market were usually weak stragglers that had become separated from their schools. Therefore, Diamond Horse Mackerel was one of the rarest and most expensive seafood ingredients, with a price rivaling the finest treasures of the sea.

What would happen when this legendary ingredient encountered Schnee’s culinary skills? The result hardly needed explanation.

“It looks like a simple grilled horse mackerel… but it’s sparkling,” Tiera said, her eyes wide with awe.

The elves’ heightened senses could perceive the latent life force radiating from the Diamond Horse Mackerel.

“Well, let’s start with the miso soup. Tiera, please take care of cooking the rice,” Schnee instructed.

“Ah, sure,” Tiera replied.

Schnee set the shiny fish aside on a plate and started preparing the ingredients for the miso soup: tofu, wakame seaweed, and fried tofu. She used authentic dashi, carefully made from katsuobushi and kombu.

“Master, the rice is ready,” Tiera called out after finishing her task with practiced ease. As someone who often cooked for herself when Schnee wasn’t around, Tiera was well-versed in basic kitchen skills. Preparing the rice took little time. She lit the magical stove, and with that, her part was done.

Soon, the smell of cooking rice and the fragrant aroma of dashi filled the room—a familiar and comforting scent for Schnee.

The clock now ticked past 6 a.m., and breakfast time was quickly approaching.

Suddenly, Tiera spoke. “Master, may I step outside for a little while?”

“The fish will be ready soon, so make it quick… but do your best,” Schnee replied, her voice gentle with encouragement.

“Yes… I’ll be back in about ten minutes,” Tiera said before heading to the shop’s entrance.

Schnee watched her leave, understanding Tiera's intentions. Still, she didn’t stop her. She only offered her support because some things could only be overcome by one’s own strength.

Tiera opened the door and stepped outside. The soft morning sunlight warmed her.

“It’s still a little chilly this time of year,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around herself. Whether it was the lingering chill of the night or her light clothing, the cool air made her shiver slightly as she walked slowly toward the edge of the barrier surrounding the Moon Sanctum.

“I’m okay… I’m okay…” she whispered to herself.

The closer she got to the barrier’s edge, the faster her heartbeat sped up. The first time she ventured out, Shin was with her. The second time, she managed to go alone.

Even so, the fear she had cultivated over a hundred long years wasn’t something that could be erased easily.

What if I go outside and a monster attacks me again?

What if I cause someone else to get hurt?

These compulsive fears clung to her like a shadow, threatening to break her resolve. Schnee understood this all too well, which is why all she could do was support Tiera. It was something Tiera needed to overcome on her own.

With steady breaths, Tiera moved forward step by step, making sure each move was intentional and solid. She already knew there was nothing out there; her past experiences had told her that. It was because of those experiences that she could keep pushing ahead.

What came to mind was Shin’s outstretched hand, the one that had been there for her. As if reaching for it once more, Tiera stepped beyond the boundary.

“…”

She stayed still for about a minute, carefully watching her surroundings to make sure nothing had changed. Moving outside the barrier didn’t magically change anything. Still, even knowing that, she felt as if the air around her had shifted just a little.

“Phew. I’m still a bit nervous,” she admitted aloud. Speaking the words helped her release the tension from her body. Now, all that remained was to grow accustomed to this new normal.

“All right, let’s do this quickly.”

Tiera headed toward a group of trees surrounding the Moon Sanctum. She came to a patch of tall grass, whose leafy blades reached her waist, and carefully went around it.

In her line of sight, blooms resembling the cosmos appeared. Although their shapes were alike, their petals displayed a kaleidoscope of colors—red, blue, green, and purple.

The flowers named repica symbolized gratitude and sincerity among elves.

Before she was able to leave the barrier, Tiera always knew this area would bloom with repica flowers around this time of year. Her hundred years of caring for the shop hadn’t been for nothing. From the shop’s window, she often watched these flowers bloom, year after year.

Back then, she could only look at them, never touch. But now, nothing was stopping her. She picked a few stems to decorate the table and went back to the shop.

“Now, a vase… Where’s the vase?” Tiera muttered as she searched for something suitable.

“Are you getting used to it?” Schnee asked, walking up behind her.

“Little by little, I’m managing,” Tiera replied with a small smile. Her tone carried no trace of strain or pretense, just calm sincerity.

Schnee returned her smile warmly. “Breakfast will be ready soon. Could you wake Shin?”

“Understood,” Tiera said, her expression softening as she nodded.

Schnee watched Tiera walk toward the hallway. A few moments later, the sound of something falling over echoed through the shop. Soon after, Tiera returned with Shin and a young silver-haired girl with fox ears.

Schnee managed to keep her composure, even though her mind fleetingly recalled sharing a bed with Shin the night before. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she stayed calm. Please don’t let him say anything, she thought desperately.

On the edge of the busy breakfast table, the repica flowers quietly watched the scene, their vibrant petals softly glowing in the morning light.

Author: Kazanami Shinogi

Born in Chiba Prefecture. Enjoys fantasy and science fiction novels. Prefers to carefully plan out detailed settings before starting to write. Began publishing The New Gate online in early 2012 and made their publishing debut with the same work in December 2013

Illustrations by Makai no Jumin

This book is an adaptation of a story originally published on the Shōsetsuka ni Narō platform, revised and re-edited for publication.

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