Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 011
Chapter Title: High End
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"Life is about real combat."
After practicing [Swift Arrow] for about a day.
I bolted straight for the tower.
Less because I'm insane, and more because there's a reason.
'Pushing through the tower beats practice for gains.'
Is this how it normally works?
Or is it my—[Deficiency]—at play?
On the way there, I checked the question I'd posted to the gallery.
"I got no party members."
Clones, sure, but no party members.
Calling [Anonymous Clone Art] my buddy?
Eh.
It's like writing [ㅇㅇ(106.102)], [Tower Noob(211.36)] in the friends slot.
Anyway, training time now.
I spun my sword as I entered the tower.
Paht-!
The familiar floating sensation wrapped around me,
and since I didn't close my eyes, my vision cleared fast.
"Huh?"
And I froze.
'This is floor 6. Why no walls?'
The barren, half-assed interiors up to floor 5.
The scenery had totally changed.
Grasslands.
No other way to describe the space.
Horizon visible and all.
And the popping message.
"?"
High End?
"Newbie unlocks new content on floor 6—here's the story."
After staring at the guide message strings for a while.
I couldn't hold back and live-posted it.
'But what's High End, you weeb shit.'
I don't speak English.
Newbie from nose-country, start with self-intros.
'High means tall, End means ending, so like high ending? Premium ending? Something?'
Middle school dropout ain't got a clue.
Translates everything else but leaves this in English why.
"Chwiik!"
"Grrrrr."
Enemy monsters caught my eye mid-thought.
No time for pondering.
Lemme see—orcs, two, four.
Hm.
'Six of 'em.'
Fully geared too.
"...Floor 5 had one no-drop."
Shoulda parked on floor 5.
Let popular post hype rush me into dying?
"Kraaaak!"
Barbarian vibes and battle cries too.
Training trip turned nightmare.
I frantically formed clone seals with my left hand.
"Fake Jeong-uks, out! Work time!"
"E-van-deh."
"Sseh-van-deh."
Ah shit.
These guys no-drop too.
I gripped my bow and tossed the rusty straight sword.
"Fake 1! Use this sword!"
"The will of the continuing skull senior...!"
"Ain't this clone discrimination?"
Why they voicing my brain verbatim.
Oh, right—my clones.
Unenhanced low-grade clone art maxes at two.
But no extra weapons left.
Reality sucks—what can ya do.
I opened the tower shop.
[Purchase: Novice Straight Sword]
Orcs charging this way.
Clones already engaging.
Even a second tossing weapons hurts.
If gotta throw anyway, then fine.
"Hup!"
Sword dropped into my hand—I hurled it full force.
Using all-day practiced [Swift Arrow].
'Hit.'
Skill success hunch landed true.
But.
Kang-!
Didn't pierce the halted orc's shield.
"Tch."
This ain't good.
I tsked and nocked an arrow.
"Fake 2! Grab that sword! It's brand new!"
"The will of the abandoned skull senior...!"
"Ain't this clone discrimination?"
Two bypassing the skirmish coming my way.
Numbers disadvantage—no helping it.
But two per head, huh.
That's your mistake.
'Shoulda sent four at me.'
Exhaled, fired the loaded arrow.
Pfyoong-!
Orcs raised shields, pointless.
Arrow flew off wildly anyway.
"Kruk."
Mocking snort.
But I ignored it.
Focused on the senses wrapped around the shot arrow,
and the mana clinging to it.
'[Swift Arrow].'
Arrow whipped past shields in sharp turn.
70-degree hairpin to pierce an orc's back and shred its heart.
Shoulda plated your back too.
"?!"
"William ssonnim! We'll guard!"
Stunned orc turned—
I ditched the bow and charged.
Master archer William's ultimate technique.
[Swift Arrow].
To catch that lofty realm.
William ssonnim says,
hunters treat bows like lovers.
So I respected my lover's privacy.
Tungkureong-!
Politely, I yeeted it.
Gave my lover the gift of freedom.
Shooting's a motion of the heart anyway.
Supreme archery needs no bow.
Ssonnim's teaching too.
"Arrows fly from the heart!"
Bid bow farewell, dashed at orc.
Orc fixated on fallen comrade—lost it at my ardent pursuit.
But I'm barehanded.
Better counter than hide behind shield.
"Kyak!"
Orc swung glaive wide,
exposing body from behind shield.
Opening, right?
Hurrah—another shot.
'[Swift Arrow] try 3.'
My aimed 'arrow' flew free.
Recycling the one on Orc 1?
Nah.
Why would I.
Dead orc dropped a spear.
-Eureudeuk!
Green dragon crescent blade vibes—pierced side blind spot.
Glaive, was it.
Peekaboo blade blushing red.
"Kraaak?!"
"Can't keep up with our master's archery!"
Still lively—launched its shield too.
Head-hit orc dropped glaive.
Kicked it up, snagged, [Decapitation].
Brutal show skill sprayed blood.
"Damn, another girlfriend."
This time spear gf.
Bought new weapon and back to cheater.
No-weapon newbie woes.
"Fuck it. Call me Spear Master."
"Ah, sure thing spear bro...".
Last words of freshly killed Fake 1.
But armed, each nabbed one.
-Puk!
Avenged with spear toss, reclaimed sword.
Meaning, stylishly caught [Swift Arrow]-launched longsword.
"Sword Master again. 2, gimme your sword."
"Confirmed. Clone discrimination."
New sword feels great.
Shoulda bought sooner.
Kung-!
Spear-hit orc toppled right on cue.
Me and clones took two each—five down with this.
2v1 now.
Dual swords complete—victory formula set.
Swinging unfamiliar 1/1 longsword balance,
a fact surfaced.
'High End.'
Recalled.
That endgame gear?
Endgame?
Something like that.
Clenching my combat-apron, asked the stone-stiff orc.
"So, who's High End now?"
Spear or shield fine.
Just drop one armor piece.