Possessed as the Shitty Dark Knight
With a creak, the inn door swung open. It was between breakfast and lunch, a quiet time with no customers around, so the inn was dead silent. Thanks to that, the young waitress who’d been dozing off spotted the newcomer right away. She shot to her feet and called out in a bright voice.
“Welcome to our inn! Oh, are you a mercenary by any chance?”
Worn armor, a mace at his waist, ash-gray hair caked in dust, sharp eyes. Anyone could tell he was a mercenary fresh off a rough job.
The man neither confirmed nor denied it. He just quietly asked if they had a room.
“Of course we do. But did you just come back from monster subjugation? You’ve got a bit of a stench from all the grime... Shall I prepare a bath? It’ll just cost a few more coppers.”
Quick on the uptake, the man thought, nodding.
“I need to write your name in the registry. What is it?”
“Yoahim.”
“Yo...ahim... Got it. How many days will you be staying?”
“One for now. Might extend it. Add meals too.”
The waitress nodded vigorously. “We’ll take payment upfront for tonight.”
Yoahim pulled a few coppers from the leather pouch at his waist and handed them over. They reeked. She wrinkled her nose but quickly plastered on a smile and gave him a key.
“Your room’s at the end of the hall. Bath water will be ready in about ten minutes, so come out then.”
“Thanks.”
Yoahim strode to his room. Inside was a hard wooden bed and a simple desk. Spartan, but fine for a night. He dumped his backpack on the floor and plopped onto the bed. Dried horse shit flaked off his clothes onto the sheets, but he didn’t care.
“Fuck...”
Yoahim scrubbed his face with his massive hand, like a rough dry wash. He spat another curse.
Fuck.
“What the hell did I do to get possessed into this shitty character...”
Truth was, Yoahim wasn’t from around here. Not just the village—he wasn’t even from this world. Possession. Into a game character, no less. He’d just been playing over the weekend, and next thing he knew, he was in the game.
The game he was trapped in was Genia Saga. A solid single-player RPG, pretty popular among gamers.
“Maybe I played too hard...”
Being stuck in a game wasn’t the worst. He’d maxed out every character except one. So no matter who he possessed into, it’d be cheat-mode easy. Or so he thought.
“But no, I had to land on this one.”
Out of all those characters, the one he’d created but never leveled. The one he’d deliberately saved for last.
The Dark Knight. That was Yoahim’s vessel.
“Some luck, huh.”
As the name implied, the Dark Knight served evil gods and wielded dark powers. It got bonuses to strength and vitality like a melee class and could cast black magic. Weaker than a pure black mage, sure, but great for exploiting physically resistant foes. Depending on the skill tree, it could even use Necromancy. Not as strong as a necromancer, but enough to command three or four skeleton soldiers. Plus debuffs on enemies and buffs on itself.
In short, tank, DPS, heal, utility—the perfect hybrid!
...If leveled right.
“Only at endgame.”
Fully built, it was a jack-of-all-trades monster. Tank, DPS, heal, utility, even basic Necromancy. But the flaws? Jack-of-all-trades meant master of none early on. Maxed out, it crushed everything. Halfway? Useless. No DPS, no tanking, no healing, no utility. That’s why it was a nightmare to level in-game.
And now he had to do it for real.
Yoahim hung his head and let out a long sigh. Why this out of every character? Warriors could clear endgame naked with just a weapon. Assassins with perfect DPS builds. Mages one artifact from graduation gear. Even the discarded archer at max level. Why a lowbie Dark Knight?
Couldn’t it have waited till I leveled it a bit? Why yank me in at low level? What did I do wrong? Leveling it last a crime? Yeah, it sucked early-game. Why make me suffer?
Fuck, fuck, fuck...
“Um, sir...”
Lost in self-pity, he barely noticed the waitress peeking in.
Shit, did she see me losing it?
Yoahim cleared his throat. “What?”
“The bath water’s ready...”
“On my way.”
He grabbed a change of clothes from his bag and followed her. She kept glancing back. Definitely saw him raging.
“I’ll leave the towel here.”
She guided him to the bath, bowed quickly, and bolted—like she was fleeing.
Yoahim shook his head.
“Equipment unequip.”
His armor vanished into his inventory. Handy ability, every time. He could’ve stored fresh clothes too, but didn’t want stares. Pulling stuff out of nowhere would look suspicious. So light items went in the physical bag.
“How long since my last bath?”
He sank into the steaming wooden tub. Warmth seeped into his weary body. A month trapped in the game. Started at level 10, now 20. In a real game, he’d be maxed by now. He knew optimal leveling inside out.
But reality wasn’t a game. Characters could grind 24/7. People? No. Couldn’t hunt all day, so progress slowed.
“Hunting’s this brutal, huh...”
First time taking a blade hit, he’d screamed and run. Made him respect his old game characters—silent, skill-spamming killers.
“Ugh, why me...”
Should’ve leveled the Dark Knight sooner. Yoahim sighed out of habit.
Lucky part: he’d adapted fast. Game controls became natural body movement, like years of training. No starting from sword basics.
By level 15, grinding steadily, he knew one truth. Escape method? Unknown. But one job: level up. And level up more.
“Alright.”
Warmed up, Yoahim stood, rinsed off, toweled dry, changed, then re-equipped his armor from inventory. Lowbie gear, but it’d saved his ass plenty.
“Oh, there you are. Food’s ready.”
The waitress, lugging a laundry basket, nodded at the table. Menu: two sausages, handful of boiled beans, stew bowl, bread slice. Matched the price.
Yoahim wolfed it down, hungry. Not great, but decent. He stood and headed out.
“Huh? Where to?”
“Walk.”
Lie. Destination: mercenary guild. Game characters didn’t eat. People did, and that cost money. Real monsters didn’t drop coin on death—had to skin, butcher for parts. But guilds gave quests for pay. Like the game.
Level 20. In a small village like Serina Village, any quest was doable. He’d burned cash getting here; time to refill. Quests were best for efficient growth too. Dark Knight weak early, god-tier late. Survive to midgame, clearable.
Yoahim opened the guild door. Bell jingled.
“Welcome.”
The balding guildmaster waved lightly. Yoahim nodded back.
“Here for a quest.”
“Plenty. Monsters surging nearby. F to C-rank.”
C-rank: doable solo, maybe tough. Yoahim trusted himself. But the guildmaster slid a D-rank paper first.
“You look strong. How’s this? Good pay.”
D-rank too easy. Check details first.
Yoahim leaned in to read.
Dungeon Subjugation Around Serina Village
“Dungeon subjugation?”
“Yeah, small one popped up nearby. Mages from the tower checked—nothing dangerous. Yet. Could grow, so nip it now.”
Event dungeon. Unlike fixed instances, these spawned randomly. Clear for item chance. He’d soloed a few since possession. No drops though—bad luck.
“Mages checked it. Why not handle it themselves?”
“They’re busy. Left the quest instead.”
Annoying pricks.
Yoahim hated mages. Tanks like him up front, mages sniping safe from back. Treated tanks like shields. Really, just jealous of safe DPS. If he truly hated them, he wouldn’t have maxed one.
“Max five inside. One spot left. Say yes, head out now.”
Yoahim checked rewards. Fame slight, EXP slight, few silvers. Standard D-rank. Seemed easy.
“Can’t solo?”
Hated splitting pay.
Guildmaster shook his head. “Too risky. In? Finish, I’ll hook you with better pay.”
D-rank? He could solo. But rules were rules.
Yoahim sighed. “Where’re the others?”