The Constellation's Game: Laika

The battle had begun in earnest, but Novin's expression remained utterly serene.

And that was only to be expected.

After all, Novin's level was far beyond anything the Novark Archipelago could even make her sweat. The truth was that Lv 40 ghosts, whether they showed up or not, posed no threat to her whatsoever.

So there was exactly one thing Novin needed to watch out for in this fight: making sure her inability to hold back didn't result in absurdly overpowered heals and support.

'Well, as long as I pace myself, this much should be fine.'

Which meant that the start of the battle was, for all practical purposes, the start of Novin's 'observation' of Dave.

Why, why on earth... did someone who wielded a sword that well insist on playing tank cosplay, then archer cosplay, then summoner cosplay on top of it?

She was so desperately curious about the reason that it was taking real effort to keep herself from just asking outright.

'There has to be some explanation.'

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Then again, in a way, it was precisely because of that mystery that the situation had become even more fascinating.

'Don't tell me he shoots a bow well too?'

And roughly one hour after the party hunt had officially begun, the person of interest (?) known as Dave... was fulfilling her expectations magnificently.

In the direction that scrambled her brain even further, that is.

'This guy... he wasn't actually an archer to begin with... right?'

Thwip—!

Ghost-type monsters, almost without exception, were as good as immune to physical attacks.

Which meant that if you wanted to loose arrows in a hunting ground like this, you had to at least know how to coat your arrows in mana... and you had to lock your aim onto the target with zero error from within the flickering silhouettes of drifting phantoms.

So even granting that Novin had layered on holy-attribute offensive buffs that were exceptionally effective against ghosts—

Peeep—!

Unloading headshots onto ghost-type monsters as casually as if he were eating rice... that was—

'Something is seriously, deeply wrong here.'

It was, by Novin's common sense, a phenomenon she simply could not process.

Especially when the one filming this headshot highlight reel might not even be an archer class.

'No. He can't not be an archer. How could anyone who shoots a bow like that not be an archer?'

Lowell, who had never cared about anything in her life other than explosive experiments (?), watched Dave's antics without much reaction, and Leo—that swordsman player who'd seemed chummy with Dave from the very start—naturally focused on nothing but the fight itself.

'This isn't some hidden-camera prank, so what the hell...'

For Novin, the current situation was... an absurdity that shattered her common sense to pieces.

Then again, perhaps it only looked that vivid because she was standing closer to the role of spectator than the other party members, who were all fighting at full power.

'Even if you dragged in a top-ranked player... could they actually play like this?'

His positioning had looked like a melee DPS at first, but his archery was so flawless that refusing to call him an archer felt impossible.

"......"

And how on earth was he handling that bizarre summon, the kind of thing only necromancers were supposed to command...?

"Miss Lowell! Hold your casting for a moment! Top off your mana!"

"Yes, Dave!"

"I'll toss Barney into the middle, so Leo, pull off the aggro for a bit."

"Yep!"

"Miss Novin, your shield cooldown's back up, right?"

"Ah, yes, yes."

"Your heal cooldown still has some time left, so for now, prioritize shields on Leo. Got it?"

"I... suppose so."

And on top of everything else, he was tracking every single party member's skill cooldowns—issuing party orders that meticulous, that clean.

'Hmm.'

Novin was, at this point, genuinely starting to feel like her brain had broken down.

Given the chance, she wanted to abduct this player called Dave and cart him off to the guild laboratory for dissection.

'Don't tell me he can use magic and holy power too?'

And somewhere in all this, a problem that shouldn't have been a problem had cropped up.

Her original objective—deducing Dave's true identity—had quietly slipped her mind... and what had grown instead was a burning curiosity about just how far Dave's capabilities actually stretched.

'Then... could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this work too?'

And so Novin, finally unable to resist, activated the skill she wasn't supposed to use (?).

Woooom—!

She had gone and used a high-tier divine debuff skill—one that could only be learned upon reaching 2nd Job Advancement as a Saint Guardian.

'Nobody here would know what that is anyway. It should be fine, right?'

Every skill Novin had used so far, overpowered as they were, had all belonged to her 1st hidden class, Saint Keeper.

But in truth, Novin was not a Saint Keeper. She was its superior-class evolution, a Saint Guardian—a unique class possessed by her and her alone.

Which is to say, the only reason Novin had used Revelation: Stigmata was pure, honest curiosity—a desire to draw out even more of what Dave could do.

'Alright, Dave. What else have you got for me this time?'

The instant the skill activated, cross-shaped stigmata began to glow white-hot over the hearts of the Lumen Ghosts.

And in the very next moment—

Pop—! Pop pop—! Pop-pop-pop-pop!

Novin's jaw dropped before she could stop it.

'What... did you say?'

A crystallization of holy energy had begun to glow brilliant white above Novin's two hands.

The moment she confirmed it, she couldn't help but swallow dryly...

'The activation condition for that... can actually be met by a single dealer all on his own?'

And before she knew it, she detonated the holy power absorbed into both hands, just as it was.

BOOOOOM—!

Recruiting Novin and Lowell into the party had turned out to be a stroke of pure genius.

Lowell had, to be fair, delivered almost exactly the performance I'd anticipated...

But that little healer? She was a talent beyond anything I'd imagined.

The skill Novin had just unleashed—I knew it down to the last detail.

A top-tier, holy-attribute, wide-area combo attack that only the Saint Guardian class, the one that wielded Stigmata, was capable of triggering.

Which meant the little one was, exactly as I'd predicted, a 2nd-Job-Advancement healer... and a high-grade talent who had advanced into Saint Guardian, a considerably rare hidden class among them.

'She's not a 3rd-job healer, right? Well, I suppose at that point she'd be a global ranker here on Earth...'

If she managed to advance into Saint Aegis—one of the 3rd-tier classes—she'd carry the staggering potential to become the strongest healer in the world by the current Earth server's standards.

'Kya, now that's what they call foresight.'

Before I knew it, I no longer wanted to confine my connection with Novin to this Rumentis Abandoned Mine.

If I raised this little one properly and put her to work as a bus driver, just like Leo...

My ssalmuk lifestyle would get one whole dimension more comfortable—I could feel it in my bones.

"Seriously, Miss Novin."

"Yes?"

"Why on earth did you only use that now?"

"W-well, that's..."

"If you'd used it from the start, the hunt would've been twice as fast."

"......"

"You can keep up with my tempo just fine, so use your debuffs to the fullest from here on out. Understood?"

"I... understand."

And there was one more reason my spirits were riding so high.

Ever since the party hunt began, I'd been able to enlighten a certain lazy summon about the beauty of honest labor.

"Barney will not forget the labors of this day..."

The overwhelming tanking power of Barney under Absolute Sloth was holding up surprisingly well even against Lowell's relentless fire bombardment.

"Ah! The bunny got all charred up!"

"It's not charred, Miss Lowell. That's its natural color."

"Ohh! Really? Well then, no harm done, I suppose!"

"One could say so, yes."

And with a high-grade healer like Novin pouring out heals like an inexhaustible spring...

"It really is true! Even when Novin heals it, it doesn't turn white again!"

Our one and only tank, Barney, had lost its last excuse to rest, and was condemned to work without cease.

"If you possessed a conscience, you would guarantee Barney's break time, Master..."

What conscience?

I don't have one of those, though?

"Barney demands the guarantee of human rights."

Human rights? For a rabbit?

"Foolish Master. The rights of a doll are, precisely, called 'human rights.'"

I think it's finally lost its mind.

"......"

At any rate, thanks to the party running even smoother than I'd expected...

Diiing—!

On the very first day of hunting in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Rumentis, I managed the spectacular feat of climbing three whole levels.

"Whoa, hyung-nim, you already hit 32?"

"That's the thing. If all goes well, we might even make 35 by the day after tomorrow."

"Gah...! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That's insane!"

But there was one thing I couldn't see at that moment.

The fact that Novin's pupils—listening in on our conversation—were trembling violently, like the heroine of a Korean morning soap opera who'd just discovered the secret of her birth.