Sparring with the Continent's 11th Strongest
Ramark Kingdom.
Once the mightiest nation to unify the continent, now reduced to the weakest country on the continent—a land shrouded in tragedy.
Player opinions on Ramark Kingdom were universally scathing.
A nation with absolutely nothing to praise.
That was the verdict from players fresh off their second job change—veterans who'd "tasted real RaSe."
But as with most things, you see what you know.
Players aiming for RaSe's top ranks saw it differently.
The one element that made this utterly ordinary weak kingdom special.
Do-pa Gillian.
The name of one of the Continent's 11 Strongest carried that much weight.
And among them, Gillian was infamous for his peculiar personality.
—Put it nicely, he's an eccentric. Put it bluntly, he's nuts.
Ramark's NPCs were uniformly hostile to players, but Gillian was the sole exception.
If a player caught his eye, he'd freely offer guidance and quests, no hesitation.
—So he's a good NPC, right?
—End result? Sure. But the process'll drive you insane.
If he spotted potential, he'd drag you straight to the training grounds.
And beat the crap out of you.
Beat you, beat you, beat you some more.
Even in a VR game where pain feedback was minimal, getting one-sidedly demolished without fighting back wasn't fun.
—After getting your ass handed to you, you start questioning why you're putting up with this in-game too. Reality hits hard. Drop out midway, and you get nothing.
Worse, even enduring it didn't guarantee rewards—odds were against you.
—You tank the "sparring" beatdown, and he goes, "Heh, guess my eye for talent's dulled with age. Useless." Then kicks you out. Wouldn't that piss you off? Guy acts like you can't tell if he's Do-pa or Beat-pa.
—...Imagining it, yeah, reality check's brutal.
—Right? That's why he ranks high in "Worst NPC" polls every time.
Still, lotteries exist.
Endure and win his approval, and the rewards were outrageous.
He'd hand over unique-grade weapons from his collection or teach you his personal skills.
Of course, all this only if you earned his recognition.
Whoosh!
"The legendary heir from 800 years ago? This is gonna be fun!"
Gillian swung his rectangular greatsword in a massive arc before settling into stance.
"I won't yield first strike. No need for chit-chat—come at me full force."
"Hmm..."
Carpe got the situation.
This eccentric old man had a bad case of wanting to mentor promising youngsters.
—Obviously, you ain't winning. Let's see... at this point, Gillian's around late 200s level? Definitely not 300... probably that range.
'Damn, that's high.'
The pinnacle among NPCs levels above Carpe's by over 200.
Winning was impossible; even surviving was a pipe dream.
That's why the quest just said "gain recognition."
But.
'Whatever, even if I lose, gotta land at least one hit.'
—Good attitude. Please nail that old bastard's face and solar plexus for me. Just to clarify, I'm not saying this 'cause I got my ass kicked in a past life or anything.
'...Sure, let's say that.'
As Carpe pulled Tina and Mirage from his robe pocket, Gillian's eyes gleamed.
"Ho ho, an honor. The legendary Seven Knights who guarded the Magic King? Planning a joint assault? I don't mind—welcome it, even!"
"No. Things'll get intense; wouldn't want you caught in it."
"We knights know better than to gang up in a duel. My liege, good fortune in battle."
"Master, do your best."
Tina and Mirage said that, then left the training grounds. Drek approached them.
"Heh heh. While the general spars with the heir, I'll attend to you two. Need anything? Something to eat?"
"In that case, tea for me."
"Something sweet for me..."
"Perfect—I have fine leaves. Tea for the Radiant One, cookies for the Illusion One..."
"Squeak!"
"Ah, acorns too. Please wait; I'll have a servant bring them."
With his party fully in spectator mode, Carpe took stance.
Left fist forward, gripped tight; right hand slightly back.
Knees bent, ready to launch.
Seeing Carpe adopt a fighter's pose instead of a mage's, Gillian burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! A Magic Fist Lord! Just like the Magic King himself. Excellent! Come on!"
"Don't mind if I do!"
Bam!
Carpe kicked off the ground full force—and triggered a spell simultaneously.
"Fire Arrow!"
A flaming arrow streaked toward Gillian's face.
But.
"Hup!"
Gillian didn't dodge; he slapped it away barehanded.
Boom!
Explosion and smoke billowed.
In that split-second vision block, Carpe accelerated again.
Whoosh!
A kick targeted Gillian's side.
The Fire Arrow as a vision feint into a follow-up ambush.
Flawless combo.
But Gillian embodied "battle-hardened veteran."
Thud!
Carpe's attack was effortlessly blocked by the greatsword—as if anticipated.
'Tch.'
Carpe clicked his tongue inwardly and leaped back.
As he pondered the next move, Gillian slammed his greatsword into the ground.
Bam!
"Pass!"
"...Huh?"
"Magic destructive power. Instant speed. Combat sense, judgment—all flawless! Incredible! Better than any outsider I've seen!"
Gillian's face shone with genuine admiration.
Carpe was stunned by the intensity.
"I only attacked once, though?"
"Once is enough to judge. Astonishing. Not just from the Magic King's power—you're a natural. No proper master yet, right?"
"Got a ghost giving advice, but nothing formal in combat."
"Ghost? No idea what that means, but no teacher. Figures—no systematic training vibe. Raw, honed in real fights."
In short: prime teaching material.
"Looks like the gods haven't abandoned Ramark. My twilight years'll be busy. Uhahaha!"
"So the test's over?"
"Of course! On my name as Ramark's sole duke, I pledge full support. But a pass is a pass..."
Whoosh!
Gillian aimed his greatsword at Carpe again.
"Gotta finish what we started, right? Ending here'd leave you unsatisfied."
"Yeah, figured."
One glance showed Gillian was a born battle maniac.
And Carpe was no different. A similar grin crept onto his face.
"Round two, then."
"Come anytime!"
The fight resumed. With every exchange, Gillian's praise grew.
"Great! That strike would've pierced most generals' guards!"
"Too straightforward there—but the power behind it? Phenomenal!"
"Excellent! Perfect!"
Lost in battle ecstasy, Carpe moved in a trance.
He barely noticed the alerts in his peripheral vision.
You have engaged in battle with a being at the pinnacle of mastery.
Strength+1
Dexterity+1
[And more...]
A flood of alerts other players never saw—'cause they just got beaten down.
How much time passed?
"Huff... huff."
Carpe collapsed on the spot.
He'd lost track of time charging in, but landed zero clean hits. Despite taking a few himself.
"Hahaha! Nearly let a few through. Impressive."
"Hoo... haa... still didn't land a single one."
"Level gap's unavoidable. Don't get down—beyond what I could've dreamed at your age."
Gillian glanced at Drek.
"Audience secured? Tell His Majesty Gillian vouches for the heir."
"Regrettably, His Majesty is unwell. The heir's audience must wait."
"That guy's got no duties yet always 'sick'? Same old excuses."
"...Mind your words, General. Overheard by others, that's treason."
"Treason? I'd have done it already if I wanted. Tch, annoying."
Gillian turned back to Carpe, apologetic.
"Sorry you came all this way for nothing. How about more sparring? I'll teach in detail."
"Huff... huff... tough right now. Gotta level up."
Fighting Gillian was fun and rewarding.
But as a gamer, leveling couldn't wait.
"Level up? Hm, vital indeed."
Gillian pondered, then clapped.
"How's this? I'll handle your leveling!"
"...Pardon? How?"
"Outsiders level from allies killing monsters, right? Handy blessing."
"...No way."
"Yup. I kill, you level fast—then learn from me. Deal?"
—...Holy shit.
"..."
Carpe stared blankly at Gillian.
In other words.
"A bus? From the continent's top NPC?"
Lucky bastard Carpe.
The moment he boarded the smoothest leveling bus ever.
The 10-Star Player's Lucky Draw