The air inside the ruins of the Blackthorn Forest didn't just feel cold; it felt heavy, as if the darkness itself had physical mass.
Arthur led the twelve silver-clad knights deeper into the skeletal remains of the temple, his [Instinct] skill screaming a frantic rhythm against the back of his skull.
"Stay close," Arthur whispered, his voice barely audible over the metallic clink of Aldric's plate armor. "The shadows here aren't empty. They're waiting."
As if summoned by his words, the darkness at the end of the vaulted hallway began to coagulate. Shrouded figures drifted from behind shattered basalt pillars, their eyes burning with a sickly, necrotic violet light.
At their center stood a man Arthur recognized—the mid-level zealot who had been holding the ritual dagger over Cecil only twenty-four hours ago.
"You!" the Believer hissed, his voice a rasp of dry parchment. "The pagan worm returns to the burrow? You stole the sacrifice, but today, your blood will serve to lubricate the gears of the Great Destroyer!"
Arthur didn't waste breath on a retort. He simply tightened his grip on the [Prodigy's Sword].
"Curse of Petrification!" the lead Believer shrieked, his fingers twisting into a grotesque mudra.
A bolt of grey, calcifying energy shot toward Arthur, moving faster than any physical projectile. Aldric reached out to intercept, but he was too slow. The magic slammed into Arthur's chest, enveloping him in a shroud of stone-colored mist.
[You have been hit by Petrification Magic.]
[Trait 'Prince of the Eternal Sun' (Legendary: passive) is active.]
[You have resisted.]
Arthur didn't just resist; he absorbed the impact and kept moving. His lips curled into a maniacal, predator's grin—the look of a man who knew the rules of the world were currently bending to his whim.
"My turn," Arthur muttered.
He blurred. Even at Level 12, his hidden stats and the "Unconditional CC Resistance" of a Legendary-class holder made him a nightmare for casters. He closed the distance in two strides, his blade singing a sharp, final note.
The edge of the Prodigy's Sword buried itself into the Believer's skull with a sickening thwack.
[Critical!]
[You have dealt 33,897 damage!]
The man didn't even have time to register his failure before he dissolved into grey motes of light.
[Your level has risen!]
[Your level has risen!]
[Your level has risen!]
Arthur felt the surge of warmth as he hit Level 15. To a normal player, killing a Level 40 NPC while being Level 12 was a feat of myth; to Arthur, it was simply efficient arithmetic. Black magicians were glass cannons—if you broke the glass, the cannon was irrelevant.
"Shadows rise, the veil descends!"
The chanting didn't stop. It multiplied. From the upper galleries and the hidden alcoves, dozens of figures emerged. But these weren't just mindless NPCs.
Arthur saw the fluid, erratic movements and the greedy glints in their eyes.
"Players," Arthur spat.
"Kikiki! Look at these knights! If we wipe them out, the quest reward is a 10-level jump!" a Dark Magician shouted, his username ShadowStalker66 hovering faintly.
"The ranking! I'll finally break into the top 100 Black Magicians!" Phonklover69 name hoovering above his head.
A hundred players, lured by the high-risk, high-reward quest of the Yatan Church, descended like vultures. They saw twelve knights and one low-level player. They thought it was a buffet. They were wrong.
"They're trying to overwhelm us with numbers!" Aldric roared, parrying a bolt of dark fire that scorched his cape. "Thorne! To the center! Protect the mages!"
The knights formed a steel ring around Kaisel and his fellow magician. It was a clash of eras—the disciplined, high-level NPCs of Earl Ashur against the chaotic, desperate hunger of the player base.
"Aiya Eärendil, elenion ancalimat!" Kaisel's voice rose in a melodic, resonant chant. "The light shall prevail!"
He didn't just cast a spell; he broke a flask of [Rebecca's Holy Water] against his staff. The reaction was violent. A wave of radiant, blinding gold erupted from the center of the formation, a physical tide of sanctity that washed over the ruins.
"AGH! MY EYES!"
"The barrier! It's burning my mana!"
"This is a scam! The quest didn't say they had a High Magician!"
The player-magicians screamed as their dark shields shattered like glass. The holy light didn't just hurt; it purified the air, making it impossible for them to weave their corrupt incantations.
"Now," Arthur commanded, his eyes glowing with the reflected gold of the spell. "Aldric, Thorne, with me! We take the casters while they're blinded!"
Arthur became a reaper. He didn't target the players first—their loot was random and often useless. Instead, he hunted the high-level Yatan NPCs hidden among them. Each stroke of his sword was a calculated execution.
He moved through the panicked ranks of the Yatanists like a wolf in a high-security sheepfold. Every time a Believer fell, the golden light of a level-up washed over him.
[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]...
By the time the last zealot was run through by Thorne's massive warhammer, the ruins were silent, save for the heavy breathing of the knights and the disappearing sparkles of a hundred dead players.
Arthur stood in the center of the carnage, his blade dripping with disappearing data. He checked his status. Level 31. He had nearly tripled his level in a single encounter.
"It's done," Arthur said, though his maniacal grin hadn't entirely faded. He wiped his blade on a discarded cloak. "But don't get comfortable. Yatan's roots are like weeds; pull one, and three more grow in the shade."
Aldric looked at Arthur with a new, profound respect. "You fought like a man possessed, Arthur. For a... 'blessed' individual of your level, your instinct is terrifying."
"Let's just get the loot and go," Arthur said, his eyes already scanning the floor.
Amidst the piles of misc. ingredients and dark crystals, a flicker of purple light caught his eye. He reached down and picked up a leather-bound tome embossed with a silver lightning bolt.
[Class Change: Lightning Swordsman]
Rating: Rare (Growth)
Description: A hidden class for those who wish to move like the storm.
Arthur stared at the book. Somewhere in the world of Satisfy, a very unlucky player was currently screaming in a respawn point, realizing they had lost the rarest item in their inventory because they wanted a "quick level-up" in a Yatan ritual.
"Nana is going to love this," Arthur whispered, tucking the book into his inventory.
The gates of Patrain swung open before they even reached them. Rumors in a city move faster than horses, and the news that the "Hero of Patrain" had led a strike team to wipe out a cultist nest had already set the streets on fire.
"They're back!"
"Look! Not a single knight lost!"
"Arthur! Arthur!"
The residents erupted. Flowers were thrown from balconies; NPCs and players alike lined the streets, cheering as the twelve knights rode in formation, their silver armor gleaming under the midday sun.
Arthur tried to keep a low profile, but with his new Level 31 presence and the legendary aura he couldn't quite suppress, he looked every bit the commander. He led the group straight to Earl Ashur's castle, passing the joyous short celebration in the square with a respectful nod.