The Sword's Tomb

I summoned the alert window.

'As expected, not very user-friendly.'

Even discovering a quest didn't reveal all the details in the alert window. That was because simply uncovering a quest's existence didn't unlock everything—you had to piece it together like a puzzle to clear it. That was how quests worked in Dimension World.

'D-rank probably because it's a starting point with low-level monsters. But SS difficulty? That's top-tier even among hidden quests.'

That was why countless SS-rank quests remained unsolved even after their start conditions were found. But the rewards were worth it.

'D-SS means a successful clear would net the highest rewards available right now.'

I nodded in satisfaction and hit accept without hesitation.

"Haha, no idea what you're talking about. There's only one tomb the Kalun Tribe guards."

Kael played dumb at my question.

"If you don't want to challenge the Warrior's Tomb, you should head down. There are all sorts of things—archery for hunting, even a village where assassins gather."

Though I'd confirmed the quest existed, as expected, Kael dodged my probe.

'Not getting it that easy, huh.'

It made sense for an SS hidden quest. No one but me could've found it this early.

The Sword's Tomb. Unlike the Warrior's Tomb, the shrine housing Gullak's sword—the legendary hero of the Northern Plateau—was known only to a select few in the Kalun Tribe.

—...I admit defeat. Take my head or my heart, do as you please.

The bloodied barbarian gave me a bitter look.

—Kael Harun. I have no intention of killing you. Why not fight alongside me? You know the prophecy. We're short on strength against the calamity.

The day I led Eltia Iron Kingdom's forces to subjugate the Northern Plateau, I'd clashed with the great warrior Kael. His power, worthy of the title "Reincarnation of the War God," rivaled a Sword Master.

—Kill me.

His response was cold and curt.

—What a pity... If only I'd had Gullak's sword, the outcome would've been different.

Right before severing his head, I heard his resentful last words. Even though it was a dream, seeing his face brought back that memory, drawing a wry smile from me unbidden.

'After that, I worked tirelessly to find the Sword's Tomb. But even I failed to claim Gullak's sword.'

I later learned it was a sacred weapon usable only by Northern Plateau tribes.

'Not certain, but by Dimension World's item grades, it's at least Unique or Legendary.'

Choosing the Northern Plateau wasn't just to build power outside the Iron Kingdom—it was the only starting area with a top-tier sacred weapon.

'The other two spots for warrior builds—Kartinin's Training Grounds in the Iron Kingdom and Muhad's Arena in the Duchy—have no such hidden treasures.'

Nell Kartinin, founder of the Kartinin family, and Muhad, the Duchy’s Sword God, were great heroes. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠But the training grounds and arena merely borrowed their names, unrelated to the men themselves.

'Muhad's shamshir and the Kartinin heirloom Reverse Light Armor are stored elsewhere. Those later training spots are just that—training spots.'

But the Northern Plateau's tomb was different. Gullak's actual sword, used by the North's hero, lay buried here.

'I could probably find it right now, but...'

I glanced at the weathered structure on the cliff and clicked my tongue, halting the thought.

'No harm in being cautious. Building favor with the Northern tribes is key for the future.'

A sudden outsider asking about it would only raise suspicions.

"More people coming. Travelers are thick on the plateau today. Gotta prep more fur clothes. Hey, come back anytime if you want to challenge the Warrior's Tomb."

Kael patted my shoulder lightly and turned away.

"Even late at night?"

"..."

His straight shoulders twitched faintly at my words.

"Haha, even warriors need sleep at night."

"Not a warrior who doesn't sleep."

I glanced at the alert above his head, narrowing my eyes slightly.

"No clue what you mean."

Kael shook his head, waving it off like he didn't get it.

'As expected...'

But I grinned at his emotional shift.

'Gotcha.'

The way into the Sword's Tomb.

"Damn it!! Why's it so fast?!"

Splat! Splat!! Thwack!!!

As tiny footprints multiplied dozens, then hundreds on the snow, the hunters' frustrated yells grew louder.

"Hey?! Other side!! No, not there!!"

"Shit, it jumped again!"

"Block the burrows!"

Leaning against the fence outside the village, I watched them hunt the Snow Poles—rabbits native to the Northern Plateau.

Whoosh!! Thwoosh!!

Only the sound of swords and clubs slicing air; no hits on the monsters.

I gave them a wry smile.

'Newbies, from the looks of it. Makes sense—most who pick the Northern Plateau are beginners.'

The dream of succeeding in an unpopular starting area to become a top player? A rare stroke of luck for the few.

Everyone fantasizes about it, but nine out of ten skip it for good reason.

"Damn...!!!"

Hunting was essential in Dimension World. But catching realistic, responsive creatures wasn't easy for novices—hitting them was a challenge.

"Aaaah!! Uwaaaah!!"

"Ow, it hurts...!"

And field mobs were mostly monsters, not animals. They gave EXP, so villages teemed with them for player growth. Snow Poles included.

Cute or not, they were monsters. Horns on rabbit foreheads impaled players mercilessly.

"Gah...! Gack!!"

"Uwaaaah!!"

The screamers had likely maxed sensitivity.

'Tsk tsk... That's why they say Rerto Karen ruined everyone.'

Sensitivity ranged 1-8; higher meant more realism. Los Clan's Rerto Karen preached high sensitivity for top players.

'Not wrong, but people don't know he doesn't max it himself.'

I sneered. Only I—and his clan—knew, since I'd beheaded him once.

'The thrill of the hunt comes from PvP, not monsters.'

That's why I'd grinded arenas. Short-staffed raids aside, monsters were patterned programs. Analyze, strategize, execute—routine after formulas formed.

Slash-! Shnick-!!

Snow Poles darted everywhere, evading hunters.

"Left!!"

Then—a man swung his mace wide. The Snow Poles fled the blade.

It seemed sloppy, but he wasn't aiming to kill in one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hit.

"Got it."

Another man punched from the side—thunk!! Snow Poles crumpled.

"Whoa, check those guys. Monsters running right to them."

"How do they fight like that...?"

Key to monster hunting: read attack timing, predict paths. Control the latter, and timing's easy. Beyond noobs, though.

'Veterans.'

Other skilled players dotted the area—folks with prior Dimension World experience.

'But no job changes... Just leveling as basics to move cities?'

"Everyone. We've confirmed: Warrior's Tomb needs level 10 minimum. Other tribes' jobs too."

The skilled Snow Pole hunter announced it boldly.

"Newbies, our guides can help you level easy. Pay extra, and we'll master early hunting for you."

I chuckled, finally clocking them.

'Power-levelers, huh.'

Power-levelers: pros camping starts, charging for gear and hunts.

'Only a day since open, and they're here. Busy bees. Made bank in DW1, no doubt.'

I didn't judge. With cash trades rampant, their service was just business.

Rumors said their scale rivaled the Eight Clans—starts everywhere, unlike territory-bound clans.

'Half a day late, but their early leveling's impressive. Big gap over noobs.'

Not dungeon bosses, but they filled a niche.

'Heard their boss is Korean... Not my business, no need to tangle.'

No dealings with them anyway. I turned away.

'Time till night... Might as well level. Sword's Tomb plan's rough; pre-leveling's smart.'

I pushed off the fence, strolling off.

"Hold up."

Some grabbed me.

"What's up?"

"Sorry, this is our hunt zone. Go elsewhere."

I was floored.

"Where's your 'zone' exactly?"

No desire for beef, so I frowned lightly.

"Red stake there to yellow flag."

I looked—stakes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and flags marked respawn spots.

"So yellow flag to that stake is someone else's too?"

"Not your concern."

I sneered.

They'd divvied zones, but obviously colluding.

"Nah."

"...What?"

"Hunt zones aren't yours or mine. Who are you to monopolize?"

They drew weapons, yelling at my smirk.

"Wanna die?"

"Back off!"

"Who the hell do you think we are?!"

I stared coldly at their racket.

Shing—the sword slid from its sheath with a chill.

"Who are you? Speak."

First time gripping a sword over a staff in-game, but it fit like an old friend.

Thud—!!!

A dull crack; the guy in front's neck snapped sideways.

Thump. As he fell, I murmured low.

"Just weaklings?"