More Apprentice Heroes

"Again."

"This stuff's expensive, though…"

"Then go buy more."

It had been five days since Yong-ba joined the training.

I shoved aside the venison he'd brought and flopped down in my nest. The taste was… fine. Just fine. Unseasoned, barely cooked through, and nowhere near enough of it. If I'd been starving I might have eaten it, but I wasn't. A little hungry, sure — not hungry enough for that.

Yong-ba grumbled under his breath as he walked over to the discarded meat and stuffed it into his inventory.

"Dragons aren't supposed to be picky…"

"What are you talking about? Dragons care about flavor more than anyone."

I had no idea what kind of fantasy he'd built up about dragons, but the truth was that dragons tended to be extremely particular about their food. Take the kingdom that once hosted a massive dragon: in exchange for the dragon's protection, the kingdom had to prepare its meals — and matching that dragon's palate meant stripping the royal larders bare. The quantity alone would have been manageable, but every dish had to be made from the finest ingredients. Chaos ensued.

I'd gone and given that dragon a light tap on the head, telling it to tone things down.

It was delicious, though.

As payment for driving the dragon off, I'd spent about three days enjoying the same cuisine it had been receiving. It was so good I briefly understood why it had nested there in the first place. Staying any longer and I would have ended up just like it, so I'd left in a hurry.

Slurp.

"I-I'm not food!"

"…Meringue. Get ready."

"Prepare the seasoning…?"

"Training, you idiot."

Thonk.

A shallow dent appeared in Yong-ba's skull.

"Hah… hah… hoo…"

"I'm going to die… Wait, why am I doing six hundred…"

"Because you have mana."

I looked down at my two apprentice heroes sprawled haphazardly across the ground. Haring had finished three hundred laps and was on the verge of passing out. Yong-ba, who'd been assigned double that — six hundred — was gasping up at the sky.

Unlike Haring, Yong-ba had mana, which made running almost trivial for him. So I'd ordered him not to use it. That should have put them on equal footing…

…Uh, so.

What?

How exactly do I turn mana off?

?

Mana's just a passive. I don't think you can actually turn it—

The problem was that even after learning mana, he had no way to control whether he used it. What a ridiculous situation. I chalked it up to another one of the Goddess's senile design choices and simply doubled his lap count.

Originally I'd planned to suppress his mana with my own power, but…

Too much work.

Who had time to sit there holding it down? Yong-ba wasn't that strong anyway. Doubling the laps was close enough.

"Alright. Shall we move on to the next stage?"

"…Oh? Really?!"

"Yeah. You can't just run forever."

"Ooooh!!"

Technically they should have run about ten times more than this… but they weren't proper heroes, just some half-baked ones, so this was good enough as a baseline.

I'm not taking this seriously anyway…

If they needed more later, they'd train on their own.

At my words, the two apprentices who'd been crawling across the dirt like they were about to die sprang to their feet. Then they started screaming with joy at the empty sky — so loudly that I flicked my staff.

Smack! Smack!

"Aagh!"

"Holy crap that hu— Gah!"

"Shut up, idiots."

"Ehehe… Flame Dragon! I pledge my loyalty! Loyalty! Loyalty!"

"I'll do anything! So please, just once, show me your true form…"

"……"

Maybe I should just kick them out.

"Whoa, no way…"

Haring stared at the system windows floating before her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Thirty-two. Level thirty-two.

At this point in the game, only the top 0.1% of players had just barely cracked level 30 and started calling themselves "rankers" — and she had hit 32. That meant Haring could walk into any crowd and flex about being a ranker without anyone arguing.

On top of that, the various titles she'd stacked meant that raw stats alone put her nearly on par with the absolute top-tier rankers. Things were already insane, and if —

"What if I clear the second one too…?"

Fifty-five thousand experience.

That was more than double what Flame Dragon's Training (1) had given. Claim that and first place on the rankings was a lock.

"Hehehehe… Me, rank one…!"

If she hit rank one and bragged about it on the gallery, how many upvotes would she rake in? Even just this much of a level jump would already whip up a storm of jealousy — rank one would be on another level entirely.

Haring was still grinning, mid-draft of a gallery post, when —

"Haring."

"Yeah?"

"Could we talk for a moment?"

Yong-ba approached with a distinctly serious expression. After the quest ended, the Flame Dragon had banished them from the nest and told them training would resume in three days. They'd just been heading down the mountain. Haring had assumed he'd gone off somewhere else — so why was he here?

"What's up? Oh, you wanna post a flex too? Fair warning, I'm dropping mine ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first, so you'll have to wait a bit."

"No. You can't post it."

"…Why not?"

Haring, who'd been about to drop a brag post (read: a flex thread) on the gallery, tilted her head. She'd half-expected him to be angling to post first himself — but Yong-ba's face was dead serious.

"I'm level 43 right now."

"Yeah, I heard earlier. Congrats! Isn't 43 like top 100?"

"I'm third."

"…What?"

"Third."

Third?

Not top 100. Not top 50. Not even top 10. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Third?

Only then did Haring understand what Yong-ba was trying to say.

"If word gets out that this kind of power-leveling is possible, it won't just be the gallery. Pretty much every player in the game will flood the Red Mountain."

"……"

"Right now it's only blowing up on the Prollasia gallery, and it hasn't really caught on with streamers yet. The reason being…"

"Everyone's mid-raid."

"Exactly."

Streamers and top guilds alike were completely absorbed in the main quest and large-scale raids. Haring's own older brother was so deep in raid content he hadn't so much as checked in, let alone paid attention to any of this.

But if it came out that you could farm massive experience just by running laps around a nest a few hundred times…

"There's a very real chance the top guilds will lock down the Red Mountain entirely. Same way they already monopolize high-level hunting grounds."

"…We've got Nest Return, though."

"Doesn't matter if they camp the nest entrance."

The skill had a cooldown, so future training would become nearly impossible. Of course, whether the Flame Dragon would sit still and tolerate that kind of nonsense was another question…

Then again, she might just let it happen.

A lazy, sleep-loving dragon might actually welcome someone else keeping the crowds out for her. And rankers would have better skill and talent anyway — she might prefer training them instead.

Haring fully grasped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the severity of the situation.

"For now, the best public narrative is: 'It's a high-level ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dragon with no known clear strategy, so just focus on the main quest.' We should act like we haven't made any real progress either."

"…Yeah. Okay."

"Complete radio silence on the quest for now. Just drop the occasional photo here and there."

"Gotcha. Wait — are you actually a brain character?"

You really didn't look like one.

"……"

"Haaaaawn…"

Peaceful days, for once.

The nest was wonderfully quiet now that Haring and Yong-ba had left. They'd be back making noise in a day, but once I put them through some training they'd settle down on their own.

Chew, chew.

"Not bad, I guess…"

Gnawing on the oversized strip of jerky Yong-ba had left behind before he went, I found myself somehow hungrier than before. He didn't have much of an eye for quality, but at least he wasn't short on money — he kept bringing things. Still, none of it hit the way Haring's offerings did.

"Mmmph… hm?"

Rustle.

A commotion at the nest entrance. Someone else?

I lifted my head just enough to see a group of four — men and women — filing into the nest.

"Is this the place?"

"Oh. It's a real dragon!"

"No way. No way."

"Dragon! We've brought offerings!"

Gear like fresh-faced mercenaries, faces free of any fear, and an oddly bright energy about them.

Apprentice heroes. Again.

Did these people have some kind of group chat? This was the ninth batch already, and the fatigue was starting to pile up.

They're not going to keep showing up forever… right?

A sharp sense of dread settled over me. I'd already taken on disciples, and I was about to shoo these ones out of sheer laziness when —

"We brought Ddujjonku too!"

"Why would a dragon know what Ddujjonku is?"

"Dunno? The community said it likes cookies, so I made some."

Cookies?

Those little dark, round things?

They didn't exactly look like cookies, but somehow they looked delicious…

Hmm.

"…Want to go for a run?"