The Tutorial (1)

The Sage's Tome.

It was an item of the highest grade in existence — Mythic — and one of the Three Sacred Treasures that represented Ellaon, the most fearsome and mightiest Great Sage of all time.

Unlike the Sage's Staff, which leaned toward offense, and the Sage's Robe, which leaned toward defense, the Sage's Tome was a divine artifact devoted entirely to utility.

'Ha.'

A smile crept across my face the moment I checked the Sage's Tome's stats.

For starters, it raised my total stats by fifteen points.

That was the equivalent of gaining three whole levels.

In the Sky Tower, level was fundamentally the measure of one's strength, which was why Ascenders went absolutely bloodshot-eyed hunting for any item with even a single point of bonus stats attached.

But items with bonus stats were vanishingly rare, and even those usually carried one to three points at most — and only if they were at least Hero-grade, if not Legendary.

Fifteen bonus points — the equivalent of three levels — was simply monstrous. The tome's stats alone were enough to justify the Mythic grade all on their own.

'And it's a growth-type item on top of that?'

Items had grades, and beneath each grade sat a sub-grade denoted by stars (★).

For most items, that sub-grade was fixed forever.

But on rare occasions, growth-type items existed — and the Sage's Tome I had just obtained was exactly that.

What makes a growth-type special, you ask? Simple. Every time its growth conditions were fulfilled, its sub-grade climbed higher.

'Growth-types are known to be able to grow all the way to 9 stars (★★★★★★★★★).'

And you know what that means? The Sage's Tome could one day become a 9-star Mythic weapon!

'Ohhh. That's insane.'

A Mythic-grade piece of equipment at 9 stars. My body shivered just imagining it.

The two Mythic items held by the other Seven Ascenders weren't growth-types. Their equipment sat at 3 stars and 5 stars respectively — and even so, they radiated such absolute supremacy that people hailed them as endgame gear.

But that was nothing but amateur-tier trash from an era before the Sage's Tome was mine.

'My equipment is the pinnacle now!!'

And who said the Sage's Tome was the end of it? If I gathered the rest of the Three Sacred Treasures, I'd have three complete Mythic-grade artifacts — and knowing my luck, all of them growth-types!

Yeon-hee! You said you'd regret dumping me, didn't you!

"Heh heh heh."

Joy spilled out of my mouth as unrestrainable laughter.

Anyway, if the Sage's Tome eventually grew to 9 stars, it was impossible to even fathom what stats it would carry. Its utility options were already absurd — and not a single one was a fixed value; they were all percentages. For a mana-leaker like me, that +50% mana recovery was rain after a decade-long drought.

And there was one more crucial point.

'It's a soulbound item.'

Exclusive equipment was a rare breed. Since the Sage's Tome was a divine artifact derived from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Sage trait, it had naturally bound itself to me — which meant I could carry it with me into the tutorial held at the God Tree.

As far as I knew, non-soulbound equipment couldn't be used in the tutorial at all.

'So of course my confidence is through the roof.'

Stats-wise, no one had ever cleared the tutorial at a higher baseline than me. Matching me would require starting stats of 10 across every attribute at level 1 — a number that simply could not exist. Even the Seven Ascenders, at level 1, had fallen far short of all-tens, let alone anything beyond.

So if the first skill the God Tree granted me turned out decent, then riding on the Sage's Aura — now boosted to 10 (+0.5) times, a total multiplier of 10.5 — sweeping the tutorial clean would be downright easy.

'So one more time! Please give me a good skill, God Tree! I'm begging you!'

"Hoo."

Steadying my breath with a long inhale, I began walking toward the God Tree.

The closer I got, the thicker the crowd became — a churning sea of people. Yeesh, so many of them. The vast majority were freshly awakened Ascenders at level 1.

As I approached the shade cast by the God Tree's lush canopy, I saw it: a translucent plaque floating near the middle of the great tree.

The Hall of Fame — the plaque recording the all-time rankings of everyone who had ever completed the God Tree's tutorial.

Names from first through tenth were carved into its face, all of them familiar.

It went without saying — every single one of the Seven Ascenders stood within the top ten.

And I was supposed to shatter the records of those pantheon of stars and claim first place.

'Top ten alone won't cut it, right?'

When I glanced down at the ring on my finger and asked, a voice answered.

— Of course it won't. Take first place. That is how you will gather the Three Sacred Treasures all the sooner.

'Hoo.'

I let out a long breath and steadied myself. Fine. If it meant earning another Mythic-grade artifact, I would give it everything I had. Steeling my resolve, I took one more step toward the God Tree to begin the tutorial—

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

That was when it happened.

Thud!

A sharp impact slammed into my right shoulder.

"Ugh."

I staggered and turned my head — and found a familiar face.

'The debt collector...?'

The toad-faced man I'd run into on the Lobby Floor just moments ago. But why was he here? He didn't look like he'd just awakened, either. From his gear alone — the equipment draped over him, the aura he gave off — he looked like a high-tier Ascender who'd climbed at least to the 4th or 5th floor.

'A scout, maybe?'

I knew clan scouts worked the Lobby Floor, but they were also known to actively recruit people fresh out of the God Tree's tutorial. Still, looking closer, he didn't seem to be one — scouts usually wore their clan's uniform.

Regardless, I'd been the one not watching where I was going. The polite thing was to apologize first.

"Sorry—"

The instant the word left my mouth—

"Hm."

The toad-faced man turned toward me, and for a flash, red light flickered in his eyes.

A chill crawled down my spine — a strange, menacing feeling I couldn't explain. And with it, a golden radiance visible to me alone bloomed from the Sage's Tome on my left ring finger.

'What the—? Ability neutralized?'

I was startled inside, but I did my best not to let it show.

"Tch."

The toad-faced man wore an expression like he'd just wasted his time, brushed past me, and walked on.

What just happened? As I stood there dumbly, my head still swimming, Ellaon spoke up.

— That man just tried to peer into your information.

'He tried to read my info?'

— Yes. He was one who wielded an Insight-type ability.

Insight-type abilities. Depending on their grade, they could discern everything from whether someone was an Awakened, to the powers they held — even the very traits they possessed. It was one of the core virtues of clan scouts.

If the Sage's Tome's Immune to Insight Skills option hadn't activated just now, that toad-faced bastard might have discovered my 10-star trait.

Fortunately, the man had walked off without realizing his ability had been defeated — but the lingering unease was unavoidable.

— I thought so. The fellow reeks of something foul.

'Tell me about it.'

One thing was clear: using an Insight-type ability on me, of all people, had to have a purpose behind it. No wonder he'd seemed suspicious back on the Lobby Floor.

'Still, thanks to the Sage's Tome... wait a second.'

I'd been about to praise the tome for blocking his Insight when I froze.

'If my Insight is blocked, wouldn't that seem even MORE suspicious?'

— No need to worry. I took the liberty of layering on a . To his eyes, you appeared to be nothing more than a insignificant Ascender who awakened a measly 1-star trait.

Oh. As expected.

He might look like a child on the outside, but Ellaon's experience ran deep — and it showed in instincts like this. All I could do was throw him a thumbs-up.

— Heh.

A haughty little chuckle drifted into my mind. Honestly, this guy was adorable.

"Still, why 1 star? You could've at least made it 3."

Now the toad-faced man's expression — that look of a man whose time had been wasted — finally made sense. He'd glanced at my status window and written me off as 1-star trash. What a blow to the pride.

— Might I suggest preparing for your tutorial instead.

'Ah. Yes, sir.'

Sheepish, I headed toward the God Tree.

Vuuuum!

One of the God Tree's countless leaves began resonating with me.

A clear voice rang inside my head, and the moment I affirmed my will—

Flash!

Brilliant light swallowed my vision.

A single voice echoed through the darkness.

Fwoosh!

With those words, countless points of starlight blossomed before my eyes.

"Whoa."

Awe burst from my lips. Why, you ask?

Because it felt as though I were floating in the middle of the cosmos.

Whoosh—! Whoosh.

Tiny motes of starlight darted before my eyes, tracing wild, nonlinear arcs through the void. Instinctively, I knew exactly what they were.

'Skills!'

Every single one of those lights was a skill.

That was it — I only had to pick one. My choice would determine whether I received a Normal-grade skill, or something far greater — a Hero, a Legendary, or beyond.

'Hoo. My hands are shaking.'

I strained my eyes and stared hard at the darting lights. Staring wouldn't reveal what any of them were, of course — but it showed just how locked in I was on this moment.

'Mythic is obviously out of reach, and I won't even dream of Legendary. Hero. Yes — just give me a Hero-grade skill!'

In ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the entire history of the God Tree's tutorial, not one person had ever pulled a Mythic-grade starting skill. Only whispers and rumors existed. The tier just below it, Legendary, could be counted on fewer than ten fingers.

Billions of people had challenged this ritual, and that was the toll it had exacted.

So what about Hero?

'Also an absurdly low probability.'

One in a hundred million, roughly. But then again — I, too, was a one-in-ten-billion man. I'd already endured a punishment as absurd as Mana Rejection Syndrome; surely one Hero-grade skill wasn't too much to ask for? If the heavens had any decency at all, they'd hand it over!

There was exactly one reason I hungered so desperately for Hero-grade: my judgment that conquering the tutorial at the highest rank would require, at minimum, a Hero-grade starting skill.

— Use Sage's Sight.

Suddenly, Ellaon spoke up.

'What?'

Use Sage's Sight? 'Why would I do that?'

Of course the question came. Let's review what Sage's Sight actually was:

「Sage's Sight (10-Star): Perk skill. Perceives universal truth.」

That was the entire description — a terse little line about perceiving truth. When I made a face that clearly said explain yourself, Ellaon gave a small snort and continued.

— Just use it. Then you will understand what I mean.

Understood, teacher. When the master says jump, you jump. Reaching the tutorial's highest grade in the first place required Ellaon's guidance — he surely had a reason for telling me.

'So I just... use it like this?'

I brought Sage's Sight to mind, and just as naturally, the knowledge of how to activate it surfaced in my head.

A cool, refreshing sensation spread through both my eyes. So this was what it felt like to have mana gather—

'Gahk.'

My legs nearly buckled on the spot.

— Hah. To drain your mana dry from a single use. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Your mana circuits truly are a hopeless case. No wonder you were able to inherit my legacy... though not without cost.

Ellaon's voice made me realize what was happening: total mana exhaustion. Ten-star skill or not, one cast had emptied my tank completely — and even that much was only possible because the Sage's Tome had boosted my mana stat by +5. If my circuits were ever going to be fixed, it would take the Philosopher's Stone or nothing at all. The realization struck me all over again.

'But...'

Suppressing my churning stomach, I looked at the starlight swirling before me. Regardless of my mana-starved state, a completely different vista now spread out before my Sage's Sight-empowered eyes.

'The lights changed colors?'

Before, they'd been nothing but pale white glimmers. Now they shone in every hue imaginable.

White. Sky-blue. Green. Violet. Gold. Emerald.

Six colors in total.

What? Why the colors all of a sudden?

As I blinked dumbly at the darting lights, Ellaon's voice rang out.

— The emerald one! You must catch that one!!

'...!'

I whipped my gaze after the emerald glow. The overwhelming majority of the countless lights were white; sky-blue came next in number, then green, then violet. There were only three golden lights — and a single, solitary emerald.

— Now!

Ellaon shouted the instant the emerald light darted within reach. I thrust my hand toward it without a moment's hesitation.

FLASHHHH!!!

The moment my outstretched hand met the light, my entire field of vision began to flood with brilliant emerald.