Party Play
‘Normie Warrior’ is the classic slur for challengers stuck with the standard Warrior class.
The Tower of Trials had already been fully cleared up to Floor 100 by now, and thanks to all the bus drivers and rankers out there, the environment was pretty damn comfortable. Naturally, rare class promotion routes and strategies had been established ages ago, and you could easily snag promotion items from the auction house. On top of that, even without promoting, you could climb floors or prep for it via ranker buses whenever you wanted.
Of course, promoting to a basic class didn’t mean you couldn’t switch to a higher one later. But changing classes reset your mastery skills and proficiency levels, so the sooner you went for an advanced class, the better. Oh, same-class promotions did carry over some skill growth, at least.
The problem wasn’t just skill growth, though. Classes also differed in stat gains per level-up, so leveling as a basic class was a loss in itself. That’s why I’d hesitated to promote on Floor 1. Warrior was the only class you could grab there with no special conditions, but it shaved off your future ceiling right from the start. Plus, Warrior-line classes often had masteries that didn’t transfer well, so very few skills carried over to advanced ones.
In this setup, rocking a normal class like Warrior boiled down to one thing: no money, no connections. Ranker buses always put you last in line, same reason you couldn’t switch classes quickly. But without the patience to wait a millennium, they’d bite the bullet and promote to Warrior anyway—dirt-poor challengers with performance that was basically inferior to every other Warrior subclass. That’s how the Normie Warrior slur was born.
Truth is, plenty of challengers promoted to Warrior early just to blitz the early game. Sure, it capped your peak a bit, but swap classes after the opener and your specs wouldn’t have major holes.
The real Normie Warriors were high-level ones like me. The few who bulldozed the early game as Warrior, then couldn’t switch fast due to the same lack of cash and clout. Even when capital came, the piled-up growth was too much to abandon—they’d gotten hooked on the Warrior class. My backstory was unique, but I still fit the bill: overleveled on a basic class.
But fuck, who taught this prick to say it to my face?
“What?”
I scowled and shot back right away. Holy Knight Kim Min-hyung tilted his chin like what’s your problem? Look at this smug bastard, confidence oozing out his ass. His level was 44, eight below mine. A big gap, but levels weren’t everything. For starters, he was rare class. The difference between normal and rare wasn’t huge, but it could cover an eight-level deficit. And his gear looked a full tier above the other two. Mine screamed junk, so he probably figured his class and items put him on top.
So, what to do with this guy? No clue on his skill beyond specs yet.
Tap, tap. I fiddled with the hand axe at my waist, gauging the vibe. No point starting shit out of nowhere.
Then, before either of us moved, someone else did.
“Hey! What’s with calling the guy who gave up his spot a Normie Warrior, huh?!”
Kim Jin-ah hopped up and swung her wand at the prick’s head.
Clang! Oh, nice crisp sound.
**
Kim Jin-ah immediately bowed her head, apologizing nonstop. Not just for herself—she chewed out the rude Holy Knight too, forcing an apology. He dipped his head half-assed, like he’d done nothing wrong, but it wasn’t that bad. Hell, I’d ragged on easy-target Normie Warriors in the community forums myself, so I let it slide this time. Just some dude who couldn’t separate reality from online bullshit. He didn’t know my name, so probably not a forum regular anyway.
After that, we quickly hashed out dungeon tactics. The three were a fixed party with solid synergy, so inserting myself felt awkward. Short meeting later, my role was rear guard: protect the DPS Kim Jin-ah up close.
“Hold up, wouldn’t I be better for that?”
“You tank up front.”
“Yeah, we’re sticking to our usual setup.”
The prick Holy Knight grumbled a bit, but no real reason to swap, so he got shut down fast. Now I got why he’d been a dick to me. Trying to look cool in front of the girl. I get it, but next time, no mercy.
Would you like to enter?
People were waiting, so we sorted positions quick and hopped the portal.
“Yes.”
Stepping through revealed massive golden ruins.
**
The dungeon’s style wasn’t much different from the Floor 3 lizardman ruins. Bigger scale visually, and gold ornaments everywhere? Real gold? Strip it all and sell outside—wonder how much that’d fetch. Tower items weren’t fully yours post-clear, but still.
“Community info says the main mobs here are golems,” Kim Jin-ah explained.
I’d fought golems once, on Floor 4’s desert field boss: a sand golem. Body of rock and sand—attacks barely scratched it. Smashed what I guessed was the head three times in a row, and it stopped regen and dropped. Dead.
“Ever fought golems?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing tough. Find the core and smash it—they go down easy.”
Ah, so the sand golem’s core was in the head. Pure luck on my part.
Kim Jin-ah loved sharing knowledge, rattling off golem trivia. I nodded along, matching her pace, when I heard the lead prick Holy Knight click his tongue.
Tsk. “At that level and never fought a golem…”
A bit annoying, but not aimed at me, so I ignored it.
Moments later, the ground rumbled—huge rock golem incoming. Bigger than Floor 4’s, head at least 3 meters up.
The trio snapped into position and charged battle.
“Hah!”
Tank Holy Knight led with greatshield and Shield Bash, slamming it. Shield flashed—his class skill, probably. Didn’t seem to dent the golem much.
Gladiator Kim Jin-seok followed, dual-wielding swords that gleamed as he activated a skill: six-hit combo. Stone chipped off hard—solid damage.
While the melee duo held aggro, mage Kim Jin-ah chanted.
“Magic Missile!”
Boom! White projectiles blasted the golem’s chest, cratering it. Red round stone exposed inside—that’s the core.
Melee held position, not rushing the core. Jin-ah’s second Magic Missile finished and shattered it.
Thud!
I hadn’t done shit, but loot popped for me. That’s why he’d offered party lead like a big shot—leaders could skim rewards. Sneaky system.
“How’s it look, Jin-hyeok? What dropped?”
“Material and a coin.”
Not every trash mob dropped coins, apparently—Jin-ah beamed, calling it good luck.
“More importantly, what do you think of our skills? Told you we’re a solid party, right?”
She asked mid-mana potion. Fishing for praise? They’d held positions calmly, sure, but rating-wise… eh.
“Yeah, looks good.”
I tossed a bland compliment, shoving my real thoughts aside. I’m no social butterfly, but unlike that Holy Knight dick, I had manners. Couldn’t just call them shit-tier straight-up.