The silence of the Northern End Cave was punctured not by the drip of groundwater, but by the rhythmic clanking of steel. Grid, stood frozen as the cavern entrance swarmed with the silver-and-blue surcoats of the Patrian high guard.
Dozens of knights, their levels averaging 200, fanned out with surgical precision, cutting off every thermal vent and shadow that could serve as an exit.
Then, the air itself seemed to bow. Earl Ashur, the Great Magician and Lord of Patrian, stepped into the torchlight. His face, usually a mask of noble indifference, was contorted into a snarl of pure, unfiltered loathing.
"...?" Grid's mind blanked. The logout button was greyed out. The mountain of treasure was a mirage. And now, the man who had promised him a fortune was looking at him like a cockroach that had stepped on a silk rug.
"Foolish traveler," Ashur's voice hissed, echoing with the reverb of high-tier mana. "You all have the same predictable greed."
In a flash of red light, the system forcibly updated Grid's reality. The S-grade quest he had bled for—Earl Ashur's Secret Request—was gone. In its place was a monstrosity of a notification that signaled the end of his social life in the Eternal Kingdom.
[The quest 'Earl Ashur's Secret Request' (S) has changed to 'Earl Ashur's Anger' (SS).]
[Difficulty Level: SS]
[Description: Earl Ashur chose you for your average abilities, your stupidity, and your easy-to-exploit nature... Since you betrayed him and steal the book he wants, he intends to kill you and take away Pagma's Rare Book.]
Grid's jaw dropped. The system description was roasting him. Stupidity? Average abilities? He looked at the penalties. His reputation in Patrian—the city where he had spent a year building ties, getting merchant discounts, and being treated like a hero—was being incinerated. He was now a 'Thief.' A pariah.
"Earl Ashur… no, you bastard!" Grid roared, the injustice of it all boiling over. "You sent me on a wild goose chase! If this book didn't exist, I'd have died for nothing! You lied first, and now you call me the greedy one?"
The knights drew their blades, the rasp of steel on scabbard sounding like a death knell. Ashur raised a hand, restraining them, his eyes cold as glacial ice.
"You decided to betray me before you even knew if the book was real," Ashur countered. "We had a contract. You trespassed on my faith. You are a truly poor man, traveler. I hadn't expected you to actually find this cave, but your patience will be rewarded with a painless death."
Grid looked at the clear conditions. Kill Earl Ashur and his knights. He was Level 76. Ashur was Level 300+. It was like a toddler trying to kill a hurricane with a plastic spoon. And the reward? The title 'Noble Killer', which carried a permanent -50 Intelligence penalty.
'Minus fifty intelligence?' Grid's heart sank. 'I only have thirty! I'll literally be an idiot! I'll be a wanted through continent! This game is trash! Why is there no exit?!'
Desperation is a powerful catalyst. As the knights closed in, their swords glowing with the blue light of 'Sharpness' buffs, Grid realized that if he died now, Pagma's Rare Book—the item worth hundreds of millions of won—would likely drop and fall into Ashur's hands.
The thought of Ashur winning, of that arrogant NPC getting the legendary item while Grid lost everything, was more painful than the idea of death.
'If I can't have the money, he can't have the book!'
Grid hated manual labor. In the real world, his days were spent moving bricks and swinging shovels at construction sites to pay off his mounting debts.
The idea of being a blacksmith—spending his gaming hours sweating over a forge, mining ore, and hammering iron—made him want to vomit. He wanted to be a hero.
He wanted to be a general. He wanted to be Arthur, surrounded by beautiful women and standing at the peak of combat.
But a blacksmith was better than a corpse.
"It's better to use it than to lose it to him for nothing!" Grid screamed, his voice cracking with tears of frustration.
He threw the book open.
Ashur's eyes widened in horror. "NO!" He thrust his hand forward, mana swirling into a concentrated sphere of destruction. "STOP HIM!"
It was too late.
[You have become Pagma's Successor.]
[Your level has dropped.]
[You are now Level 1.]
Grid's body was enveloped in a pillar of white light that pushed back the knights. He felt his strength drain away. The skills he had spent a year mastering—the warrior's strikes, the passive buffs, the hard-won stats—were being deleted.
"What is this?" Grid cried out. "Level one? My year of work! My life! All gone!"
But the system didn't care about his grief. A flood of gold-bordered notifications began to scroll past his eyes, faster than he could read.
[Dexterity stat has opened.]
[All Blacksmith skills have been mastered to the level of the Pinnacle...]
[Legendary Blacksmith's Breath created.]
[Legendary Blacksmith's Creation created.]
[Title: 'One who Became a Legend' acquired.]
Four new stats appeared in his window: Composure, Indomitable, Dignity, and Insight. These were the marks of a legend, stats that players at the top of the rankings didn't even know existed. To a normal observer, it was the greatest jackpot in the history of gaming.
But to Grid, it was a disaster.
"I'm a laborer!" he wailed. "I lost my warrior skills for this? I'm level one! I'm back in the tutorial! Why is there a quest like this?! Fuc*!@….~#@….@….^%!!"
He didn't have time to process the World Announcement that was currently shaking the hearts of two billion players across the globe. He didn't have time to realize that he had just become the Second Legendary class in Satisfy.
He only had time to see a knight's sword descending toward his neck.
SLASSH.
[You have been hit by a blow!]
[You have died.]
As Grid's body dissolved into grey light, leaving the Northern End Cave empty and Earl Ashur screaming in futile rage, the world outside stood still.
In the capital of Reinhardt, the players in the auction house stopped their bidding. In the high-level hunting grounds, the Rankers lowered their weapons. A golden message had appeared in front of everyone, informed to every inhabitant of the virtual worland.
[A Legend has been born.]
[The 'Pagma's Successor' has appeared!]
In the small town of Winston, inside the heat of Khan's Smithy, Arthur paused. He felt a sudden, sharp resonance in his own Dignity stat. His ruby eyes flared with a brilliant golden ring as he looked toward the north.
"So it finally happened," Arthur whispered, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "The fool actually did it."
Beside him, Piaro stopped his training, his straw hat tilting upward as he sensed a new, raw power entering the world.
The gear of the world had shifted. The blacksmith who would change the fate of empires had arrived, crying and Level -1, while the Prince who had prepared the way stood ready to greet him. The era of the Overgeared had truly begun.