Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Mage's Dungeon (1)
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‘Mage’s Dungeon.’
Despite its simple name, it was a place that had caused despair for countless players ever since it became known.
In most dungeons, even if the owner was a mage, they’d station golems or monsters as guardians. But this dungeon’s master had freakishly filled it with nothing but magic traps and magical monsters.
That’s where the problem arose. Players still had barely any resistance to magic attacks beyond what they’d built up from PvP against mage users.
Since the concept of magic resistance hadn’t fully taken root yet, there was no proper way to deal with it, and items related to magic defense were either unavailable or treated like trash.
“No choice but to make do like this.”
That’s why Rokan had scoured the integrated auction house for gear with as much magic resistance as possible.
Most of it came in the form of specific elemental resistances, so searching took forever, but it didn’t matter. As long as he could get it on a few slots, that was enough.
“Please reinforce these.”
The magic defense he’d gathered totaled 9%.
Not exactly satisfying, and since he’d prioritized options, the base defense was abysmal. But Rokan had reinforcement on his side.
Just like with the critical hit set, he forcibly pushed them to +5. It was still lacking, but the defense had risen to a usable level.
‘At least I have the Sealed Helmet of the Lion King.’
If Rokan’s control was lacking, or if berserkers didn’t inherently struggle with high defense, or if he didn’t have the Sealed Helmet of the Lion King, it might’ve been worth reconsidering. But with everything in place, he could charge in boldly.
‘The big dead tree to the southwest is the entrance.’
True to its mage dungeon nature, even the entrance and entry method were unique. Deal a certain amount of impact to the massive dead tree southwest of Crossroads, and the illusion would vanish, revealing the entrance.
Fortunately, there were no major hunting grounds nearby, and like Moonlit Cemetery, it reset automatically after one person or party entered, so with some care, he could slip in without drawing attention.
It was a dungeon tough enough to make even Rokan tense, so even if someone knew about it, they wouldn’t steal it from him easily.
*Peep!*
Rokan pulled out his magic map to confirm the location, then mounted his horse and galloped toward his goal.
“Argh, fuck!”
He’d planned ahead and occasionally dismounted for some prep work, and as he neared his destination after riding for a while, rough voices pierced his ears.
‘Players here, huh?’
Frowning slightly in annoyance, he drew closer and spotted the source of the commotion.
“You fucking short-ass dwarf keeps stealing our kills!”
“Stealing my ass! You’re just too slow to catch ‘em, so you bitch at me? And you’re the ones who stole first. Nah, you’re just too shit to even do that.”
“You made your character like that, so of course we can’t see it, you prick! Talking ain’t gonna cut it anymore.”
“Why don’t you come at me with that skill of yours? Think numbers scare me?”
They’d apparently gotten into a spat over hunting prey.
‘There aren’t any decent mobs around here, though.’
Rokan pondered for a moment before realizing the answer.
‘It’s because of me.’
The quest monsters he’d targeted. Two of them, including Gyropol, didn’t have fixed habitats and roamed the entire field.
They must’ve been wandering in search of those and drifted here.
“Fuck it, let’s just kill him. He can’t even use the shops properly, so PKing him won’t make much difference.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna catch this bastard today even if it turns me PK!”
“You retards gonna keep yapping?”
The half-elves were fuming, while the other player, partially obscured by them, stayed out of clear sight.
From the voices, it sounded like a one-versus-many fight, but the lone guy seemed confident. Whether that was self-assurance or arrogance would reveal itself soon enough.
‘This is a hassle.’
As the mood turned hostile, Rokan’s expression hardened.
If a fight broke out here and they accidentally targeted the dead tree...
His secret dungeon, meant for exclusive use, could end up exposed by mistake.
Even if it was a dungeon hard to clear even if known, he’d rather avoid the crowds.
“Beat his ass!”
But despite his wishes, the battle erupted. The half-elves suddenly spread out and nocked their bows.
‘Hawk Eye, huh.’
Rokan, watching with a scowl, recognized them.
A guild made entirely of archers who maximized half-elf traits.
Far stronger than Blood Chaser, but they’d declined due to their racial supremacist recruitment policy, accepting only half-elves.
“Piercing Arrow!”
“Shadow Shot!”
*Pabababat!*
Their skills were decent enough that Rokan naturally predicted their victory. But the next moment’s events surprised him.
“With aim like that, what kind of archer are you? Fireball!”
“Guh.”
*Boom!*
The opponent dodged all three Hawk Eye members’ arrows and counterattacked, putting them on the defensive.
He’d used his speed to evade, but not perfectly—one groaned.
“Damn midget!”
‘Interesting.’
That only fueled their rage, making them pull their bowstrings more aggressively, but it was futile. The small, swift foe dodged every attack effortlessly.
Only then could Rokan make out the opponent.
It was someone Rokan knew well.
‘Click-Resistant Mitty.’
The nickname players had bestowed with deep-seated frustration.
Race: Gnome. Class: Probably mage and hunter.
The class combo was unbalanced, but his real insanity lay elsewhere.
‘He’s ridiculously tiny.’
He’d minimized an already small gnome body through customization.
To make enemies fail to spot or hit him.
And it worked perfectly.
Even in PC games, tiny targets were hard to click. In The Lord, where you controlled your body directly, it was worse.
Unless they had AoE attacks, landing hits on him was nearly impossible.
Just like now.
“Running around like a rat!”
“Take a hit already!”
“Multi Shot!”
Stats offered some accuracy correction, but only up to a point.
For those three, aiming at a tiny arrowhead on a moving target felt harder than hitting a moving bullseye.
They ended up firing wildly, but Mitty was the one landing hits.
“Guh!”
“What the hell are you shooting?”
Mitty’s weapon was a wrist-mounted crossbow.
Aim at the enemy, press the button, and the crossbow on his forearm fired automatically. Low damage, but high utility.
Cumulative damage added up.
‘Fast.’
Using hunter speed to pepper them while kiting, the half-elves were getting one-sidedly overwhelmed.
Short legs, but the system compensated with boosted movement speed for quick footwork.
The tiny body darting everywhere made their vision spin and stomachs churn.
“Guided Shot!”
Perhaps out of spite, the three used a homing skill.
They’d aimed manually out of archer pride before, but now they couldn’t hold back.
*Peep!*
Then Mitty whistled. A bird landed on the back of his left hand—a shield curlew, a hunter-exclusive defensive summon.
*Clang!*
It swung its wings, easily blocking their attacks.
*Whoosh.*
Followed by a counter.
The wrist-crossbow fired, and an arrow sprouted from another half-elf’s thigh.
‘No need to watch.’
The fight was as good as over. Not just because Mitty was fast, but because he was so small they couldn’t hit him even standing still.
Meanwhile, Mitty dealt steady damage with his crossbow and summon, tossing in spells occasionally. Victory was only a matter of time.
“Arrrgh! I’ll kill you!”
Frustrated, one half-elf went berserk and charged, unable to contain his temper.
‘Oh no.’
Rokan read it wasn’t a simple rush.
Closing distance to tighten angles for a powerful finisher.
Obviously a combo skill.
‘Gotta stop it.’
Not for Mitty’s sake—he didn’t care what happened to them. But if Mitty dodged, the attack might hit the dead tree.
“Stop!”
A shout laced with immense power.
An enemy might’ve flinched in terror, but since they weren’t hostile yet, it just drew their attention.
Except for one. Eyes rolled back, he kept charging at Mitty despite Rokan’s yell.
“Throwing!”
“Eek!”
*Thud!*
But before the combo, a chilling axe blade embedded at his feet, snapping him back to reality.
“W-Who are you!”
The sheer power in that strike let him gauge the foe’s strength, so he yelped like a scared pup with a trembling voice.
Already on the verge of losing 3v1, with the midget’s ally showing up? Defeat was certain.
“Crossroads Guard!”
“Gasp!”
Seeing them tense to attack, gripping weapons tighter, Rokan bellowed.
He’d used Disguise right before leaping out, so his actions were seamless.
“What’s with those defiant glares? You planning to defy the Crossroads Guard? Is that your and your guild’s choice?”
“N-No! No way! Absolutely not! I just...”
Rokan’s rough demeanor perfectly mimicked how NPCs treated players. No wonder they panicked.
No thought of doubting him—they dropped their weapons immediately. Mention of his guild turned him pale, denying frantically.
“Quiet! I saw you assaulting an innocent outside the city. He’s no ‘citizen,’ but attempting to murder a fellow faction member is grave. You’ll face fitting punishment. [Judgment]!”
[You’ve arrested Half-Elf Eagle Eye in the act.]
[Analyzing crime log.]
[First strike against Gnome Mitty confirmed.]
Exercising the guard’s authority, the offender’s body turned to light and vanished—teleported for sentencing.
His body would’ve been handed to the Crossroads Guard, punishment fitting the crime.
‘First offense, so probably just a day in lockup.’
NPC-on-player was different, but player-on-player scuffles got light sentences.
And he wasn’t even a murderer from successful PK.
The key was removing him from here.
Rokan promptly judged the remaining two. Same or slightly lesser penalties since they didn’t strike first.
“......”
Only Mitty left.
But his puffed cheeks showed displeasure.
‘Mad I stole his prey?’
Rokan understood perfectly.
But not now. He wasn’t Berserker Rokan—he was Guard Rokan.
Scowling to show offense, Mitty’s expression flipped 180 degrees.
“Oh, great work, sir. Out on patrol beyond the city when you’re so busy! We can live carefree thanks to the Crossroads Guard... really...”
“......”
Mitty oozed sycophantic sales smiles and flattery.
“Don’t loiter pointlessly—get lost!”
“Of course! Bothering a busy man like you? I deserve to die. Don’t mind me...”
“I said scram. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Glaring again at Mitty trying to shoo him off first, he tucked tail and fled.
‘If that’s really Click-Resistant Mitty, we’ll cross paths again soon.’
Watching Mitty bolt like his soles were on fire, Rokan mused with a hunch.
If it was truly him, something fun was coming soon.
“Time for me to get started.”
Shaking his head to refocus, Rokan stood before his target dead tree. Gripping his battle axe tight, he swung a mighty first blow to cleave the base.