The Rebirth of the Great Warrior
The players, now trapped helplessly before the altar in the Zone 2 raid, had eyes that brimmed with hope only moments ago but were now flooded with fear and terror.
“E-everyone, snap out of it!”
Emily, the leader, shouted late, yet the fear that had already spread like a contagion refused to fade so easily.
All anyone could do was hold their breath and stare at the approaching statues.
Thud. Thud.
I don’t want to die. I want to live. Why did I ever come in here? Get me out! I don’t want to die! Save me! Please, someone… Aaaaaah!
But their frozen bodies could not even produce a sound. Every ounce of strength had drained away, leaving their minds capable of thinking only of death.
In that silent scream, the players’ faces turned deathly pale. The only thing left for them was to wait for the end inside predetermined despair.
That was the exact moment.
Boom!
A single figure surged upward from the earth.
Like a meteor streaking across the night sky. Or like a moth hurling itself into flame.
The beautiful blue trajectory stole every gaze.
“I-Ian?”
Ian. The only solo player in the raid party and the girl who bore the title of savior.
“Haaaaap!”
She swung her sword with everything she had.
Why had I chosen to rush out alone?
Even at level 16, even after gaining three levels’ worth of stats, charging three statues at once was suicide. There was not the slightest chance of victory by myself.
Yet the instant I saw those faces—twisted by fear, surrendered to terror—my body had moved on its own.
Why? Had some shallow sense of justice bubbled up from the depths of my heart? Did I suddenly want to play the savior?
No. I had never carried any such sense of mission from the beginning.
Even now, fighting at the forefront against the boss, I held no honest desire to end this world.
But.
The reason I decided to fight.
The reason I resolved to become stronger than anyone.
Yes. It all began that day.
It started in the dark back alleys of Startia.
Just remembering it brings bile to my throat. The face hidden in shadow rises in my mind and my whole body instinctively locks up.
Still, I swore I would never again be dragged along by someone else’s will. Even if it meant dying.
My end will be decided by me.
Therefore, if I must die, I would die fighting rather than wait for death in a pathetic heap.
Exactly like right now.
I had thrown myself into the enemy lines to uphold my own will.
“Sword Rush!”
Sword Rush
The statue wielding a shield—Indomitable Sigurd.
His shield blocked my blade.
Clang!
As though to prove the title was no exaggeration, Sigurd’s shield did not budge an inch.
At the same time, a massive sword glowing blue stabbed in from the side.
That’s Linear!
The fourth form of basic swordsmanship, a single thrust technique unlocked at 200 sword proficiency.
I kicked the shield hard, spun in mid-air to evade the sword of Condemner Tyr, and swung my own blade.
My sword and Tyr’s clashed in a burst of sparks.
Of course the one being pushed back was me. My stance was poor and I lacked power, yet I still managed to twist the sword’s trajectory.
“Urk!”
Simply clashing and deflecting had left my wrist numb. If I had let my concentration slip even slightly, I might have dropped my weapon.
But the sword remained in my hand, and another weapon waited at my waist.
The moment I landed, I brought my blade down vertically while aiming the staff at myself.
Basic magic skill, first-circle wind magic. Single support technique.
“Haste!”
Haste
The new skill gained at staff proficiency 100. The wind’s blessing soaked into my body.
A shadow fell over me. Tyr’s sword and Sigurd’s shield were slamming down on my position.
I drew my blade and charged.
Boom!
The ground exploded, but my body was already far ahead.
With Haste active, my speed was one-and-a-half times what it had been. A three-minute limit existed, yet this was no time to worry about it.
The first target I had to drop was shield-bearing Sigurd. Having seized his back, I activated a skill and vaulted straight onto his head.
I raised my sword overhead.
Basic sword skill, third form. Two-hit slash.
“Double Accel!”
Double Accel
The highest-damage skill I could currently produce. Twin trajectories slammed into the statue’s head.
Crack-crack!
The solid stone repelled my strike. As expected, destroying these statues would require far greater power.
In other words, I still needed the players’ coordinated attack like before.
But.
Are they still not snapping out of it?
I hoped they would join before the buff expired. I twisted through the air to dodge Sigurd’s grasping hand.
Landing atop the statue’s head, I sprinted across its shoulder.
Tyr’s sword thrust in again. I leaped upward to evade it, ran along the flat of the blade, and slashed at Tyr’s arm.
My brain burned white-hot. My entire body felt like a sharpened blade; everything except combat vanished from my mind.
Like I had become a beast.
I surrendered myself to instinct.
“N-no way…”
A voice thick with shock reached my ears.
It defied common sense for anyone to hold back multiple statues alone without help.
Yet no one could look away from Ian.
The trajectories she carved were breathtakingly beautiful. Yet they were also tragic, like a flame that might flicker out at any second.
At the same time, the sight made their chests ache with envy.
They could only watch her desperate struggle in a daze.
“Fuck… what the hell am I doing?”
At that moment, Emily’s voice cut through the crowd.
She bit her lip hard, then slapped her own cheek with a clenched fist and turned to face the others.
Every face showed surrender.
But right now their strength was desperately needed.
I swore I would clear this game no matter what it took.
While Ian bought them time, Emily had to restore their morale by any means necessary.
And that duty belonged to her, the leader.
Turning the shame of her momentary weakness into fuel, Emily shouted at the players.
“Everyone, get a hold of yourselves! Are you just going to stand here watching?”
Her desperate cry shook them to the core.
They had all been paralyzed by despair, yet deep down a spark of admiration still lived.
“Did you come to sightsee? Weren’t we here to raid the boss?”
Still, no one stepped forward; they only stared at the ground. Mustering courage in the face of death was never easy.
Silence fell.
Disliking that silence, Emily slammed her shield into the earth.
“Get up! We haven’t lost yet! So do something—anything!”
She turned, shield raised high.
“I won’t order you to follow. But if you’re scared, at least throw your skills. I’ll hold the front line no matter what.”
Emily charged into the battlefield where Ian rampaged.
The players watched her receding back.
Then one of her own party members stepped forward—Mugi.
Normally quiet and shy, she now aimed her staff at the statues with ice-cold eyes.
“Naira, get up.”
“M-Mugi? You’re really doing this?”
“Then are you just going to let unni die?”
“…No. I don’t want that.”
Naira drew her bowstring beside her.
Emily was precious to them. They could not abandon her here.
Next, the man standing beside them spoke.
“Yeah. We came to clear it anyway. Let’s do this.”
Adrian drew his axe once more.
“Good. I refuse to lose in such a pathetic way.”
Aslan, gauntlet user and leader of party 7, cracked his knuckles.
“I’ll help too.”
“Me too.”
“Let’s win this.”
Staff user Wang Mei of party 4, shield user Nasser who held the vanguard for party 9, and Sigrid, spear user and leader of party 5.
One by one, more players gathered beside Mugi.
Shaura shook his head.
“Truly reckless people.”
Yet it was that very recklessness that let them choose to fight on the deadly front line.
Adrian raised his spear high.
“Since it’s come to this, let’s see who wins!”
The players, morale restored, burned with fighting spirit once again.
Arrows and magic blanketed the sky. Everyone charged the statues.
Kwaaaaang!
While every eye was fixed on Ian, the defenseless statue of Tyr took the full barrage and shattered.
Countless stone fragments exploded outward. Watching the sight, Ian let out a hollow laugh.
“What? You guys could do it all along?”
At that moment, Sigurd’s shield cast a shadow over her head. A voice rang out at the same time.
“Ian, dodge!”
It was Emily. She thrust her own shield upward to meet the falling one.
A skill usable once shield proficiency exceeded 200.
Basic shield skill, fourth form. Single defense technique.
“Iron Wall!”
Iron Wall
The iron barrier Emily created collided with Sigurd’s shield.
“Uaaaaah!”
Emily held on with everything she had. Blood vessels burst in her eyes.
“E-Emily?!”
“I’ll endure as long as I can, so hurry and finish him…”
Ian wasted no more words. She broke away from Emily’s side and vaulted straight onto Sigurd’s head.
The players’ attacks poured down.
Boom!
Cracks raced across Sigurd’s stone body. Ian seized the opening and swung with all her strength.
The technique she used most, her most basic skill.
“Slash!”
Slash
The blue blade energy sank into the stone.
Hard rock split. It shattered. And then—
“Haaaaap!”
Sigurd’s statue crumbled apart.
Ian landed on the ground, chest heaving.
Buff’s over?
The three minutes she had been granted had run out. Her body felt as heavy as if iron weights had been stacked on her limbs.
Yet her heart had never felt lighter.
Only one statue remained: the benevolent Eyra holding her staff.
Just that one left.
And the single statue gripping a spear, staring at the players.
Ian ignored its gaze and prepared to charge Eyra’s statue at once.
At that exact moment, Eyra slammed her staff into the ground.
Green light burst outward. It was not the wind magic I used, but a warm, merciful breeze that seeped into the shattered remains of Tyr and Sigurd.
The fragments enveloped in light rose into the air, gathered together, and reformed into their previous shapes.
“R-recovery?”
They had expected powerful attack magic at worst, but the sight of perfect restoration magic left the players’ eyes wide with shock.
After all, recovery magic had never appeared in any of the staff skills unlocked so far. Even the title “benevolent” had not prepared them for this.
Yet Ian simply readjusted her grip on her sword.
“We did it once, so we can do it again. Let’s destroy the staff statue first.”
“It won’t just let us.”
“Then we draw its attention like before.”
Ian stamped forward. She was noticeably slower than earlier, but she still slipped between sword and shield.
Emily shouted over her shoulder.
“Shields! Everyone block the sword first! Melee dealers draw the shield’s attention—ranged attackers focus on destroying Eyra’s statue!”
Compared to Tyr’s sword, Sigurd’s shield possessed greater destructive power but slower speed.
Using that fact, Emily issued her commands. The players moved accordingly.
They split into three groups. Ten shields struggled against Tyr’s blade, the melee group darted swiftly to prevent Sigurd from defending, and the ranged group poured skills into Eyra behind them.
It was by no means easy. Tyr’s irregularly curving sword kept finding blind spots, the giant shield’s sweeping arcs made openings rare, and Eyra’s magic sowed chaos among the players.
But—
“Eyra destroyed!”
The players finally brought Eyra’s statue down.
With their means of recovery gone, Tyr and Sigurd were once again reduced to dust beneath the coordinated assault.
Now only a single statue remained: the nameless warrior holding a spear.
Everyone instinctively understood this was the raid’s final phase. They held their breath, waiting for it to move.
However.
“Why isn’t it moving?”
“Is it bugged?”
Time passed, yet the statue remained still.
At that moment, the stone tablet’s voice thundered across the battlefield.
USELESS TRASH. VERY WELL—THIS BODY SHALL HUNT YOU ALL PERSONALLY.
ABOMINABLE GREAT WARRIOR, BECOME ONE WITH ME HERE!
The tablet rose into the air.
It soared high, then stopped directly in front of the motionless statue.
Brilliant light poured forth.
The light became a tether linking tablet and statue, and at last the two fused into one.
The statue’s eyes burned crimson.
And above its head appeared the name it had lost.
The final phase.
The nameless great warrior, fallen from his corrupted master’s hand, had returned.