I Didn't Do Anything
The Legion capital. The city at the heart of what people commonly call the Central Continent, home to the largest human kingdom. A golden metropolis where logistics, manpower, and everything else flows in and out. It dwarfed the quaint medieval starter village I'd seen before—it was on a whole other level.
"Whoa..."
After a grueling two-week journey, Haring finally reached the outskirts of the capital. She let out a gasp of awe, followed by a deep sigh.
"That was long... so long."
The quest was supposed to be tough, sure—she'd braced herself for that. But she hadn't expected it to take this long just to reach the entrance.
Haring's specs were strong enough to sweep away most monsters without breaking a sweat, but the problem was the distance. With no connections and skipping the basic quests, she couldn't take the normal routes. Sure, she could've paid top coin for a shortcut, but she was in the middle of a major quest right now.
"Not an option."
Unless she hit a wall she couldn't solo, she planned to push through on her own power. No way was she letting rumors spread that the dragon quest was a total scam.
'Though the rumors are already everywhere.'
As always, Haring pulled up the gallery. Those posts had been the one saving grace during her endless trek.
After two weeks of religiously scrolling the gallery, the breakdown was clear: 70% Little Flame Dragon posts, 25% advance team chatter, and 5% random stuff. Just a few months ago, it was all selfish rants—no dragon talk in sight. Now everyone was desperate to make contact.
Haring felt a swell of pride at how her gallery had evolved. She closed it out.
"Time to head in."
No one besides her and Yongba had cleared the quest yet. Most players couldn't even get close—they were just circling the nest endlessly. And even if they somehow snagged it, good luck.
'Three thousand laps, was it?'
Compared to Haring's measly 300, the difficulty had spiked unnaturally. Too many people swarming had pissed off the Little Flame Dragon, plus her "first clear" perks had jacked up the requirements.
"Perfect."
As an advance team member, it was music to her ears—especially for dragon quests.
Haring hustled over and joined the massive line at the capital's main gate. She'd skirted roads through forests and fields till now, but entering the city meant passing inspection here. Sneak in elsewhere, and guards—or worse, knights—would chase you down.
'Yeah, no.'
Like every player, Haring couldn't take a knight yet.
"Line up, everyone!"
"Show your ID clearly! Try to fake it, and it's straight to the dungeons!"
"Hey, you! No cutting!"
A dozen guards glowered at the crowd from the gate. Haring eyed the slowly shrinking inspection line.
'Should get in fine...'
She hadn't cleared the tutorial or basics, but she had one ace up her sleeve.
"Next... Oh? A hero, eh?"
"That's right."
"Grade 4 hero badge... Confirmed. You're clear."
Her hero status. By lore, players were otherworldly heroes chosen by the goddess—treated a cut above regular mercs.
'Barely above mercs, though.'
With so many players around? Yeah. The guy who'd just passed was Grade 4—decent perks, better commissions. Higher grades unlocked more privileges.
Haring? Fresh off beginner status at Grade 7 out of 8. Fine for a backwater village, but in the capital? Meh. Knights and mercs here outclassed her easy.
"Next!"
"Hait!"
"?"
"Ah, no. Here's my hero badge..."
Haring sheepishly handed it over. Shouldn't scroll the gal so much.
The guard gave her a weird look but checked the badge and frowned.
"Grade 7 hero?"
"Yessir..."
"What's a Grade 7 doing here? This ain't your league."
"Uh, got an errand."
"Errand?"
"Delivering a letter. Know someone in the city. Can I go in?"
The guard sized her up. Grade 7, but solid gear, tough vibe. And reaching the capital unscathed at that rank? Meant she punched above her weight.
He handed back the badge.
"No trouble, got it?"
"Of course!"
＊
"Hero badge?"
"Yeah. With so many heroes around, they started handing out ID-like things. It's only been a few months, but super useful."
"Glug glug..."
It'd been two weeks since I sent Haring off on her letter errand. I sat on a rock in the nest clearing, watching my apprentice heroes train.
Thwip!
Not far off, Yongba was diligently firing arrows at a tree. Unlike sword-wielding Haring, he was an archer. Both were grinding ten thousand shots, but his form sucked—I kept making him redo it.
Thwip!
Up it went again.
"Huff... huff..."
"Arm's high."
"Yes! Got it!"
How does it mess up every time? That hard?
"Just like this—twang! Easy."
"Even heroes are greenhorns at this stage, Lea. Way behind you."
"Hm."
True enough. I nodded at the guy in the deep blue robe.
Anyway, Yongba kept at it, while about ten others dashed around the clearing. Fearless punks who'd invaded despite my warnings. I'd nearly squashed one once, but they wouldn't quit—so in a huff, I cranked the lap requirement.
No finishers in two weeks thanks to that, but the determined ones grow anyway. Quitters stagnate; grinders improve.
Munch munch.
"That good, huh?"
"Yup."
"Mind sharing one?"
"You got cash."
"I fixed that golem for you. Think of the poor thing crossing the continent—"
"That was its job. Buy your own."
"Harsh."
Munch munch.
I chomped the cream puff cookies the other heroes bought, shooting a glare at the pouting guy. Seri, the headache mage. Eastern continent specialist, always in that face-hiding deep blue robe. I'd glimpsed her face ages ago—red hair, burn scars from childhood. No clue what she looks like now.
She'd offered to show me anytime, but...
'Nah.'
'I can show you anytime...'
'If you don't wanna, don't.'
She hides it with magic daily 'cause she doesn't want eyes on it. No forcing after one rescue.
I'd shipped her the now-useless messenger golem post-Haring. Hoped she could fix the ex-tower master's relic. She rushed right over.
After three hours of her tinkering...
Vrrr!
The golem's eye glowed blue again.
"Oh."
"Fixed. Ex-tower master's magitech is always a wonder."
"No issues?"
"Probably. Just basic function—maybe 10% efficiency. Full repair needs the Magic Kingdom."
"Too hassley."
"Want me to go? In exchange for a favor..."
"Pass."
No reminder needed why she's a headache. Hate noisy drama.
I swung the buzzing golem's arm up and down. Moves good. Most functions locked, but fine for training apprentices.
As I whooshed it around, Seri prepped to leave.
"Oh, and the parts are ancient—handle with care. Apprentices won't break it, but for you, Lea, it might be fra—"
Crack.
The left arm snapped off. After 70 years dormant, it lost a limb pathetically.
I turned slowly, holding the arm, eyes on Seri.
"......"
"I didn't do anything."
"Lea."
"No, really. For real."
It broke on its own!