The Crite Wyrm Hunt
The Constellations' game, Laika.
The land where the continent begins — the first ground every player set foot on after leaving the 'Cradle'.
Which meant…
As the city where the greatest number of players in all of Laika resided, its scale was absolutely staggering.
According to the Awakened Wiki's information…
The resident NPC population alone exceeded four million, and the estimated daily average of moving players was a whopping five to six hundred thousand. That was the metropolis known as Lumis Territory.
With the officially registered player population of the World Awakened Association sitting at just over ten million, a full five percent of every player on Earth was loitering in this one place.
"Wow… so this is Lumis…"
It was perhaps only natural, then, that Leo's eyes went round as saucers the moment he first stepped foot here.
The scale of Lumis Territory was, to put it simply, comparable to Seoul — the massive metropolis outside the Gate.
Admittedly its population density was low, but in terms of sheer landmass, Lumis was a territory even larger than Seoul.
Which meant that encountering something like this in Lumis was…
Ziiiing—!
not the least bit surprising.
"There! If you're getting on, get on quickly. The schedule's tight."
The so-called Mana Carriage — a special coach, as players called it, linking every city within the territory.
"Fare to Lumenhardt is 15 LP."
"Here you are."
Leo needed to reach Lumenhardt, the most bustling district within Lumis, so he had no choice but to take the carriage.
If he tried walking from the territory's outskirts to Lumenhardt, he might very well be watching tomorrow's sunrise along the way.
Which is to say, there was no way around paying that murderous 15 LP fare.
'Ugh. So this is why you're supposed to save your return point to the plaza portal as a must before level 40…'
Truthfully, if Leo had arrived on Alterion through an ordinary class-advancement route, he would never have needed to board a Mana Carriage on his very first day.
Players who advanced into the basic classes all began at the plaza in Lumenhardt, where the Guild Hall of their respective class stood.
What's more, up to level 30 the standard playstyle was to focus on sub-quests and grow inside the dungeons within the city…
meaning there was hardly ever any reason to leave Lumenhardt in the first place.
"Whew."
But Leo, having advanced into the Tempest Blader class, had been dropped into an open field called the Hill of Storms.
After clearing his quest there and moving toward the territory, he'd even had to purchase a 50 LP scroll from the exchange.
Even after tearing that scroll, warping only got him as far as the territory's outskirts — hence the carriage ride now.
He told himself it was the price of obtaining a hidden class he truly loved, but there was no denying it was a painful expense.
'Counting the scroll, 65 LP just evaporated in one go.'
Either way, once he properly completed his Return Registration this time, he wouldn't need to ride a carriage for a good while.
They said the registration fee alone cost 200 LP… but he decided not to think about that sad fact right now.
After all, these past few days had been — for the first time in his Laika life — firmly in the black.
All thanks to Brother Dave's grace.
Creeeak—
Lost in those thoughts, Leo boarded the carriage.
Once two more passengers climbed aboard, the door slammed shut with a gruff clatter.
Clack—!
The three-carriage train seated roughly four passengers per car, so there were probably around ten people riding this Mana Carriage in total.
'Players… maybe?'
Leo stared for a moment at the man and woman seated across from him, then turned his gaze back out the window.
They were wearing rather distinctive outfits, which stirred a flicker of curiosity, but striking up conversation felt a little burdensome.
Unlike the Village of Beginnings, Bereshit, telling NPC from player wasn't easy around here.
Giiiing—!
With the peculiar resonance of mana, the carriage departed, and the scenery outside the window warped in a strange, rippling way.
Remembering that the trip to Lumenhardt took about twenty minutes, Leo suddenly felt drowsiness wash over him, and he let his eyes slip half-closed.
But he couldn't fall asleep.
Just as the Mana Carriage began to sway in earnest —
jolt!
— the woman across from him spoke first.
"You're a player, aren't you?"
Matching the carriage's sway, the woman slowly crossed her legs.
Red hair bobbing at her shoulders, ruby eyes glittering like drops of syrup.
Startled by the woman's unabashedly direct question, Leo faltered for a beat.
But there was no particular reason to deny it, so he nodded reflexively.
"That's right."
"Figured."
"You two are players as well, I take it?"
Since they'd brought up the word 'player', the odds were high that they were players too.
The NPCs of the continent rarely used the word 'player'.
They called players… Gatewalkers.
"We are. Seems like fate, sharing the same carriage like this — care to introduce yourselves?"
"That much is hardly difficult."
"I'm 'Sera'. This here is 'Zayd'."
"A pleasure. I'm Leo."
"My, what a stylish player name."
The female player who'd introduced herself as 'Sera' carried a positively seductive air about her.
Unfortunately (?) for Leo, who was utterly oblivious to such things, it made no particular impression on him…
but the man called 'Zayd', seated beside Sera, apparently found her behavior quite unpleasant.
"Why the hell are you handing out my name for?"
"Don't be so prickly. If you're tired, just sleep, Zayd."
"Making nice with strangers even in the middle of this… you're really something else."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You haven't forgotten where we're headed right now, have you, Sera?"
"One more word out of you and I'll shove you clean off this tram."
"Whew."
Intrigued by the bickering pair, Leo took a closer look at their outfits.
The man called 'Zayd' wore a black leather trench coat and a necklace shaped like a short fang, while the woman who'd introduced herself as 'Sera' was dressed in a deep purple robe that clung to her body, a cartridge-shaped ornament hooked over one ear.
And soon enough, Leo couldn't help but be genuinely startled.
"…!"
Both of them were distinctly dressed, sure — but that wasn't what surprised him.
It was because he could feel a faint, hushed flow of mana radiating from their gear.
'Equipment can only hold mana if it's at least tier 7 or higher, right?'
He was no appraiser, so he couldn't say for certain.
But the gear draped over that man and woman was, even at a glance, clearly expensive, high-end stuff.
Which meant that with high probability, they were veteran players well past level 60.
What he couldn't figure out was why users of that caliber would be riding such a bargain-bin form of transport.
"Phew. Sorry for the commotion, handsome."
"Ah… it's fine."
"There's a grumpy man in here whose buttons keep getting pressed today, you see… Sorry for the unintended inconvenience."
"Bullshit."
Leo exchanged a bit more small talk with Sera, but before long the inside of the tram grew quiet.
Whether it was because she was minding 'Zayd's mood, she, too, closed her mouth after a few more words.
And so Leo was able to pass the remaining ten minutes or so until Lumenhardt in silence, eyes gently closed.
Then, a little later…
"Aaand we're here. Anyone headed to Lumenhardt, this is your stop."
Clunk—!
The carriage door swung open, and Leo stepped out of the compartment.
'They were definitely unusual people. They do say there are all sorts of strange ones among players…'
And soon all thought of the two vanished completely from Leo's mind.
He assumed they were nothing but passing acquaintances — that he'd never run into them again.
Ziiiing—!
But right at this very moment…
there was one fact Leo had no way of knowing.
"Just as I said. Am I right, Zayd?"
"Definitely. A face that handsome — no way you'd mix it up."
"A shame. If we'd found him a little sooner, things would've been easier."
"Either way — we've got one of them."
The fact was this: Sera and Zayd boarding the same compartment as Leo had been… anything but coincidence.
"And the other half… it's about time he showed his face. Don't you think?"
The Crite Wyrm was a colossal insect.
It couldn't match the 'Sand Worm' that inhabited the western desert region of Alterion…
but it was a ferocious monster boasting a body nearly as enormous.
Back in my beta player days, I'd nicknamed this thing the 'Mineral Worm', and the reason was simple.
Its carapace, right down to the shell on its back, was coated in hard ore — in essence, it was a worm made entirely out of minerals.
And why, you ask, did I go on at such length about all that?
Well… because that's the key point of the entire Crite Wyrm strategy.
As proof, I brought this monster down in all of five minutes.
Skreeeee—!
WHUMP—!
Not that I did it without my party's help, of course.
Critical damage dealt to 'Crite Wyrm'!
'Crite Wyrm' has been successfully slain!
After the massive impact and the monster came crashing down…
Nobin, wearing a strangely deflated expression, muttered his question at me.
"It… it actually worked?"
"That's how it was designed to be fought in the first place."
Brother Gorlbo muttered something similar, wearing much the same look.
"Geez… the strategy guide said to brace yourself for at least two or three hours of hammering away at it."
"Whew. Knowledge really is power in this world, I'm telling you."
The Crite Wyrm, which dwelled in dark mine veins, interpreted shifts in light intensity as 'signals of enemy movement'.
Lumen ore — the Wyrm's food — was, after all, a mineral that gave off a soft glow of its own.
So when hunting for prey, the beast likewise used light signals as its basis for detecting movement.
Because of that, the moment the incoming luminance spiked past a certain threshold, the Crite Wyrm went berserk.
And that berserk state lasted five minutes.
If you simply dodged and endured through that span, once it expired the monster fell into a groggy state for one full minute.
Essentially 'action-impossible' — a whole sixty seconds left completely helpless.
All that remained was to pile on the free damage during that window and take it down with ease. Simple as that.
And thanks to having a fire mage in the party, we hadn't even needed a separate flash grenade.
"Dave-nim, how on earth did you know all this?"
In answer to Nobin's question, I replied with the utmost concision — pure fact (?).
"I bought it from an information guild."
"Ah, of course…"
The point of purchase may have been my beta player days…
But either way, I did buy it from an information guild. Can't call that a lie, right?
Of course, even knowing the Wyrm's groggy pattern didn't solve the whole battle.
A Crite Wyrm in its groggy state went rigid, its hide hardening further still — no ordinary attack could so much as scratch it.
Which was where the real star of the show came in: the tier-3 pickaxe I'd procured from the exchange for a full 100 LP.
The easiest way to break through the hardened hide of a rigid Crite Wyrm was, quite simply, mining.
In fact, the NPCs who ran Crite Wyrm raids professionally kept a miner-class player on retainer for exactly this reason.
Without someone who genuinely knew their way around a pickaxe, piercing the hide within one minute was impossible.
So how on earth did our party manage it, you ask?
In my heyday, I'd advanced into every class under the sun — well over a hundred of them. Would it really surprise you that a miner class was somewhere in the mix?
"In any case, we've been in your debt all day, Brother."
"Not at all. I'd have been in serious trouble without your party too, Brother."
Sure, I did the carrying — but it's equally true that I benefited from the party.
A fire mage with no healer? The very thought gives me shivers.
Come to think of it, though, it feels like Brother Gorlbo didn't really do much of anything…?
The reason he'd spent the whole time apologizing and itching to do something for me had apparently been there all along.
And yet…
"I don't know whether the chance will come later, but if I can, I'd like to repay this debt somehow."
Unless you're paying me in LP, I honestly don't need anything, Brother.
Or, hmm… if you could perhaps transfer full ownership of this Crite Wyrm's carcass over to me…
That might just tempt me?
"Well, of course we owe you at least that much."
"Nobin's right!"
"I agree too. No idea what you'd use it for, but if that's what you want, then it's yours."
Kuhum.
A clean, unanimous vote.
These guys were actually decent people, better than I'd given them credit for?
Grumble-grumble—!
In that case, I'd graciously accept without further protest — and gobble it all up.
LP, after all, is something you rake in whenever the raking's good, isn't it?