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