Flynn found the class trainer, Mia, and approached her with a faint, easy smile. "Mia, I'm here to learn some new skills."
He had learned his lesson from Let-There-Be-Light. In this world, NPCs were not lifeless scripts waiting to be triggered. They reacted, they remembered, and they responded to tone. Treat them like real people and they tended to return the favor.
Mia looked up from her workbench. She wore dark leather armor that had seen years of use, the surface scratched and dulled in places where blades had struck. A flicker of approval crossed her eyes when she saw him. She gave a low chuckle. "Young adventurer, your progress has exceeded my expectations. Your deeds are already being spoken of throughout the Starter Zone. With the Teleportation Gate activated, our link to the outside world will only grow stronger."
Her gaze sharpened as she studied him from head to toe. "Yes… I can see it now. You are ready. Take a look. What will you learn?"
Flynn opened the training panel.
At level 12, a Rogue could learn three skills: Stealth, Rupture, and Gouge. Stealth was universal, available to every Rogue. But between the other two, he could only choose one. The second would require a skill book, and those were neither common nor cheap.
—
Rupture: Lacerate an opponent with a sharp weapon, dealing damage equal to 30% Attack Power plus 20% Agility every three seconds for eighteen seconds.
Gouge: Strike the enemy's head with the pommel of your weapon, dealing minor damage equal to 25% Attack Power plus 40% Agility and stunning them for three seconds.
—
One was a bleed that steadily drained life. The other was a brief but decisive stun.
For most Rogues, Gouge was indispensable. A stun meant control, and control meant survival. Lock an enemy down, interrupt a cast, break a combo before it formed. In skilled hands, three seconds could decide everything.
But Flynn was not thinking like most Rogues.
He weighed the numbers, not the habits of other players. Rupture scaled cleanly with sustained damage and rewarded precision. It suited someone who preferred to dictate the tempo rather than scramble to react. Gouge was useful, certainly, but its value depended on circumstance. Rupture promised inevitability.
He hesitated only long enough to confirm his instinct, then selected Rupture.
Some classes had clear paths. Warriors divided cleanly into Guardians and Berserkers. Paladins branched into Guardian, Vindicator, and Holy specializations. But for Rogues, the distinction between Assassin and Thief was murky at best. The NPC offered no guidance on which skill aligned with which path. Players were left to infer patterns and build their own theories.
The true divergence did not occur until the first skill enhancement, when the system formally pushed the class toward specialization. Until then, the so called "paths" were little more than player labels based on skill combinations.
To prevent irreversible mistakes, the developers allowed a skill reset at the first enhancement stage. It was a calculated safety net. Before that milestone, creativity ruled. Players experimented, mixed abilities from different directions, and shaped their own style without consequence.
After finalizing the skill, Flynn closed the panel and turned to leave.
"Young adventurer."
Mia's voice stopped him.
"You are already formidable," she said, studying him in a way that felt less scripted and more deliberate. "But when you grow even stronger, you must return to me."
He frowned slightly. "If I'm stronger, why would I need to find you?"
There was something off about it. NPC dialogue usually followed predictable branches. This did not.
Mia did not answer directly. She raised one hand and made a small, dismissive gesture, as though brushing aside a curtain only she could see.
"Seek the essence of the Rogue," she said quietly. "I am certain you will find it."
Flynn stared at her. "That's… not very specific."
He tried a few more lines, pressing different dialogue options, but she repeated variations of the same cryptic phrase. Eventually, he let out a breath and gave up.
Maybe it would make sense later. Maybe it was tied to level progression. Or maybe there was something hidden he had yet to trigger.
With that lingering question in mind, Flynn headed alone toward the Murloc Cave. The others had already left after turning in their quest rewards. He had been the only one who needed training.
They regrouped at the cave entrance, then pushed deeper, following the direction Kazehana's party had previously taken.
The interior was packed. Players swarmed through the tunnels, cutting down murlocs in steady rhythm for experience. After Beast-Lover had mentioned the mini boss, even players below level ten had flooded in, hoping to get lucky and snatch rare loot.
The moment Flynn's seven-person party entered, heads turned.
Let-There-Be-Light seemed entirely unfazed by the attention. He raised his voice casually. "Anyone want to pay a visit to the neighbors?"
"Neighbors?"
"You mean the foreigners?"
Confusion flickered across some faces, but others understood immediately. A few players in the cave had already been killed and sent back to their own Starter Zone by Kazehana's group. The memory was still fresh.
Voices rose in agreement. Offers to join came from every direction.
Without hesitation, Let-There-Be-Light opened the raid group to public entry. No approval was required.
The roster filled almost instantly.
By the time they reached the fork in the tunnel, the group had swelled past forty players. Most were level ten or above. A handful of lower-level players trailed along, clearly more interested in spectacle than contribution.
As they crossed the cavern threshold, a system notification appeared.
You have arrived at Starter Zone #2341.
"Two-three-four-one," Let-There-Be-Light muttered. "So the zones aren't sequential."
He switched to regional chat.
"Friends of Starter Zone #2341. Has anyone seen Kazehana and her group?"
The response was immediate.
"Kazehana? What do you want with them?"
"Let-There-Be-Light… are you from our zone?"
"Those guys disappeared as soon as they hit level ten. Afraid of getting killed, probably."
"Too bad there's no PvP under level ten. Otherwise we'd have camped them out of the game."
The chat descended into chaos within seconds.
The members of Flynn's expanding raid exchanged glances. Apparently Kazehana's group was not particularly popular here either.
Let-There-Be-Light typed again.
"We're from the neighboring zone. Kazehana and her people were killing players in ours. We're here to return the favor. Anyone who wants in is welcome."
"Count me in!"
"Same here. Been waiting for a chance."
Within moments, a dozen more players joined. Even though they shared the same Starter Zone as Kazehana in-game, they were not from the same country in reality. There was no sense of loyalty. If anything, the hostility ran deeper.
Beast-Lover could not resist adding fuel.
"Kazehana's group is already on the second step of the Teleportation Gate quest," he typed into regional chat. "The rewards are insane. At least two green items. Maybe even a silver."
At the same time, he sent Amy a private message. "Link your ring."
Amy hesitated. Equipment stats were not something you displayed lightly. But under the circumstances, she understood the strategy. She linked her Silver-grade ring in chat.
The effect was immediate.
Questions flooded in. Players demanded quest details. Others begged for party invites. Some offered to scout or tank or heal for free. The channel turned into a storm of text.
Flynn's group ignored most of it. Beast-Lover, however, patiently outlined the quest requirements. The Teleportation Gate quest was not unique. Anyone who killed Borg the Silver-Fang could trigger it. The first to complete the final stage would claim the rewards.
At this stage of the game, two green items were more than temptation. They were power.
Ideas began to take shape across the zone.
To obtain the quest, Borg had to die. But before that, Kazehana's group could not be allowed to finish their step.
The solution required no elaboration.
Kill them.
Players began coordinating in chat. Some volunteered to camp Borg. Others stationed themselves near the mini boss, Gulu. Lower-level players were assigned to scout for Kazehana's movements. Any sighting would be reported instantly.
It did not take long.
One of the members of her group was spotted near Wolf Mount.
A group of twenty to thirty players immediately broke away from the main force and rushed toward the coordinates.
Flynn did not activate Stealth. The skill reduced movement speed by thirty percent. He would fall behind.
When they reached the base of Wolf Mount, the forest rose thick and dark along the slope. Flynn narrowed his eyes, scanning the tree line.
Without thinking too much about it, he reached out and caught Amy's hand, squeezing lightly. "Wait before you go in."
She looked at him sharply, a faint crease forming between her brows. The gesture was too casual and familiar. She pulled her hand free.
"What's wrong?"
Hair-Stays-Perfect and the others approached, noticing Flynn's expression.
"Did you see something?" Hair-Stays-Perfect asked.
"There's an ambush up there," Flynn said quietly.
"An ambush?" Beast-Lover scoffed as he walked over, still riding the high of his earlier success in chat. "You can tell just by staring at trees?"
Let-There-Be-Light did not laugh. He studied Flynn instead.
Back at the village, after the trial instance, Flynn had warned them to be careful. The warning had come seconds too late, and Let-There-Be-Light had stepped outside and been killed immediately. The timing had not been coincidence.
"Night-Stalker," he said evenly, "what did you notice?"
Flynn shook his head. "Nothing concrete. Just a feeling."
Beast-Lover opened his mouth again, but Hair-Stays-Perfect smacked him hard on the back of the head.
"Shut up," he snapped. "His instincts are quite sharp. He warned us before we walked into Kazehana's trap in the village. We just reacted too slowly."
Let-There-Be-Light nodded faintly. He had reached the same conclusion.
Flynn raised a hand. "Enough. Have everyone hold position here. I'll scout ahead."
Before anyone could object, his figure dissolved into transparency and vanished.
Beast-Lover turned in a slow circle. "He's actually gone?"
"Looks like it."
Sky-Slasher stared toward the forested mountain and exhaled slowly. "Level twelve already. He's more than an hour ahead of us."
"More than that," Not-A-Bystander replied dryly. "He logged off earlier for an hour or two. Probably to eat. Have any of you logged off?"
They exchanged glances.
No one had.
Even for basic needs, they had rushed, rarely taking more than ten minutes at a time.
Sky-Slasher's expression shifted. "So he's even stronger than we thought."
No one argued.
They were veterans, players who had dominated every competitive game they had touched. They were used to being the benchmark others chased. Now they were trailing someone who, on paper, looked like a newcomer.
It was not an easy thing to accept.
Let-There-Be-Light sent a private message to Amy.
"Your class overlaps with his in some areas. Watch him carefully. Learn what you can."
"I know," she replied, glancing at him briefly.
A new message popped up before she could say anything else.
Night-Stalker: "By the way, your hand is really smooth."
Amy's expression stiffened. So he had grabbed it on purpose.