There were less than ten days before players logged back in.
Each update had always followed the same rhythm: roughly a week in reality, which translated to a little over a month in-game. Not enough time for Felix to change the world—but enough to prepare for what came next.
Back at the company, he skimmed through his inbox. An event was scheduled in a few days, inviting nearly every major entrepreneur in Lungmen. It looked more like a charity gala than anything else. Felix had little interest. He had just finalized a deal with the L.G.D. and Wei Yenwu; there was no need to keep currying favor with more gifts.
Giving help in times of need was always more valuable than adding flowers to a brocade. This time, he'd simply show up, give Lungmen face, and nothing more. After all, with Tomorrow's Development (Arknights) now firmly rooted in the city, every move he made was being watched.
Ten days until the players' return. Felix hadn't checked his panel in ages. Now, he opened it again.
His experience sat at over 600,000. Rare subclasses and rare skills couldn't be raised further. His eyes fell on the newest skill he'd acquired: Originium Arts Manipulation.
Originium Arts didn't require a main class. In Terra, any profession could wield them. Which meant their leveling system followed a different set of rules.
He poured his experience into it.
[Basic Originium Manipulation Lv.1 → Intermediate Originium Manipulation Lv.10]
In just one surge, he'd vaulted two whole tiers. His current ability was on par with a freshly graduated Caster—except unlike them, he'd skipped years of grueling practice.
Placing a hand on his staff, a strange blue flame blossomed at his fingertips. Heat shimmered in the room, the temperature spiking instantly. A thought—flame gone. Another thought—flame reborn. Controlled at will.
The means of attack, however, he would have to develop himself.
That left 300,000 experience. After a long pause, Felix invested it all into his main class. He had survived in Terra for years, yet this was the first time he'd ever upgraded it. If his subclass had a soul, it would probably be crying with joy.
[Main Class: Support Novice Lv.1 → Apprentice Support Lv.15]
He gained: +39 free attribute points, +3 Dexterity, +4 Endurance, +2 Intelligence, +1 Spirit.
Now, his pool of unspent points totaled 129. Up until now, he'd invested heavily into Intelligence for blueprint research. With Originium Arts now in his arsenal, that path made even more sense.
He placed 61 points into Intelligence, spreading the rest evenly across other stats. The future him wouldn't be a backline quartermaster anymore. He would step onto the battlefield himself.
[Stats: Strength 66, Dexterity 87, Endurance 79, Intelligence 170, Spirit 85, Charisma 60, Luck 1]
Not bad.
He flexed his hand, feeling raw power coursing through his veins. His body was sturdier, sharper. And his intellect—
Five flames flickered to life, one on each fingertip. At a flick of thought, they spun and danced like fire spirits.
His control had grown far more refined. He could fight longer, burn brighter. After all, Originium Arts were tied to MP; higher Intelligence meant a larger MP pool, which meant more endurance in combat. Now, he could fight like a true Caster—fighting until the very end.
And most importantly—
[Tier: 4.1★]
[Evaluation: Hmph. I'll admit it—you finally have the strength to walk this land on your own. (˶˃⤙˂˶)]
Felix exhaled slowly. As expected, raising his main class alongside Originium Arts had pushed his strength to a whole new level. He had stepped into the ranks of the Four-Star Operators.
Opening his eyes, he stretched lazily, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Next patch, he would continue polishing his production skills. But he wouldn't neglect combat again.
The road ahead demanded both.
---
That night, Felix carried a glass of champagne, excused himself from a few ambitious-looking entrepreneurs, and slipped through the crowd toward the table reserved for the L.G.D.
Plenty of the Bureau's women were present. Dressed in elegant gowns instead of uniforms, they stood watch as discreet security for the banquet—even if no one in their right mind would dare cause trouble at an event hosted by Wei Yanwu.
"Nine, Chen. Always a pleasure to see you two."
Felix raised his glass toward them. The three clinked lightly before he took a sip. His eyes lingered for a moment—Nine, statuesque and commanding even out of uniform, carried herself like the dignified elder sister figure she was. Chen, on the other hand, looked distinctly uncomfortable, her sharp face set in a scowl that didn't quite fit the gown she wore.
"I didn't expect the Black Knight to be one of your employees… She's practically the center of the whole banquet now."
Nine sounded almost impressed. Her gaze drifted toward Degenbrecher—effortlessly radiant in a sleek dress, golden hair catching the light. She was surrounded on all sides by businessmen and their families, plenty of them openly starstruck.
Chen glanced sidelong at Felix. She knew why Degenbrecher served as his bodyguard—her own investigation had made that clear. But the more she uncovered about Felix, the more unsettling he seemed. He never missed an opportunity, never let go of a chance to climb higher. How long had it even been since he left Laterano? And already, he had carved out so much ground for himself?
Her mind echoed with Aunt Fumizuki's advice: Get closer to him. Learn from his strengths. And keep digging.
The investigation—fine, she could handle that. But getting closer? Chen truly didn't know how to approach that.
"The Governor should be thanking me, actually."
Felix tipped his glass toward the distant figure of Wei Yanwu, surrounded by investors and business leaders, every face radiating thinly veiled greed. The crowd around the Governor was nearly as thick as the one gathered around Degenbrecher—Felix's bodyguard had clearly absorbed part of the pressure meant for him.
"Recently, adventurers have been vanishing. Felix, do you know anything about that?"
Nine's tone was casual, but her eyes were sharp.
Felix shook his head. "No idea. Maybe they've got their own business to handle."
"It's not just your company's adventurers," Nine pressed. "Others tied to foreign powers have disappeared as well. Strange, isn't it? Almost like they never existed here in the first place…"
Felix's lips curved faintly. What was he supposed to say? Server maintenance?
Nine went on. "The Yanese government finally reached a decision. With so many adventurers clustered in the villages, it's destabilizing the local balance. They've decided to issue them identification papers—granting them the right to enter mobile cities."
Felix raised his glass toward the distant horizon, as if toasting Yan's capital. "Then let me thank them. As the first company to recruit adventurers at scale, this is the best outcome I could ask for. Tomorrow's Development will only keep growing—and I've been feeling short on manpower for a while now. Nine, if you ever tire of the L.G.D., you'd always have a place with me."
"Such a blatant poach?"
Nine smirked, shooting him a sidelong glance. "I didn't realize your ambition was quite this large, Felix."
"Since you put it that way…" Felix extended a hand toward her. "Would the ambitious man have the honor of one dance with Miss Nine?"
For a second she seemed caught off guard. Then her lips curved into an amused, intrigued smile. "You really are more like a man than before. A shame, honestly—someone like you not turning into a playboy."
"Well, if Miss Nine insists, I'll give it a try."
Hand in hand, the two walked off toward the dance floor.
Chen let out a quiet sigh as she watched them go. No matter how she tried, she couldn't fit into this atmosphere. Maybe it was her problem—always burdened with duty, never once knowing what it meant to truly relax. She carried her convictions like shackles.
When the song ended and Felix escorted Nine back, his hand extended toward Chen. Her face twitched ever so slightly.
"...You don't get tired of this?"
"I just want to blend in with the crowd—yet still play a role different from everyone else on this copper-scented night."
Felix turned, his gaze drifting toward Degenbrecher. Across the sea of people, her golden eyes met his, carrying a trace of helplessness. She clearly understood why her boss had brought her here. Even though he had warned her beforehand—and promised a few sparring matches afterward as compensation—tedium was still tedium.
"I don't dance."
"I do. Let me teach you."
Like a gentleman, Felix reached out and took Chen's hand. He felt the stiffness in her body, then softened his expression. "You're not used to this kind of scene, are you?"
"You seem perfectly at ease."
"I've been to plenty of banquets like this. The world changes, the locations change, but the people never do."
His hand tightened slightly around hers, and he felt the calluses on her palm. Chen might be beautiful, but she was no mere ornament.
Guiding her into the dance floor, Felix led her clumsily but steadily, moving with the music. Not far away, Wei Yanwu's eyes nearly bulged at the sight, while Fumizuki at his side parted her lips in surprise. Reluctant, stiff-faced Chen dancing with the calm, accommodating Felix—they really did look… well, almost like a pair. Fumizuki quickly pulled her gaze back. She couldn't make choices for Little Chen. Still, a young man like Felix—talented, composed, rare—was not easy to come by.
---
September flew past like a gust of wind. October arrived.
The month given to Felix had been more than enough. He had locked down housing in the Lower District, securing apartments for the incoming players, and expanded the training halls to handle the swelling numbers.
Outside Lungmen, over a hundred thousand players had already gathered. To the city, perhaps it was just a fraction. But to Felix and Tomorrow's Development, it was staggering.
And then—the day came. The Fourth Calamity or the Players returned to this broken land, carrying adventurers spirit back into its fold.
[Server online]
[Adjusting coordinates… configuring network… loading update… establishing mental link to Ark…]
[Welcome back to Terra, players. Update 2.0 – "The Fortress of Civilization"]
[Estimated duration of 2.0: Terra Time, 1777 days]
October 6, 1091. Adventurers returned to Terra.
In Version 2.0, the level cap rose to 60. For players, it was a massive leap, allowing them to finally gain a foothold on Terra. Inside the Mobile Cities, both gear and skills became far easier to obtain. Only a few rare pieces still required allegiance to factions, but for most, almost everything they wanted could now be found within the city walls.
"Wuhu!"
"This land—Daddy's back!"
"Wait, the level cap's unlocked? Time to pick up those abandoned sub-classes again!"
The first wave to log in were, as always, the pros who had camped for launch. One after another, they pulled up their status screens. Members of Tomorrow's Development noticed with relief that their 20,000-contribution tasks had already been marked as complete. Their hearts settled—at least the patch hadn't wiped their progress.
In Terra itself, only about a month had passed. They hadn't fallen behind.
And everyone knew 2.0 meant one thing: entry into the Mobile Cities, the new hubs. So the moment they spawned, most players gunned their engines and sped toward the nearest city.
"…What the hell? Why won't they let us in?"
Players gathered at the city gates, staring at the bustling urban life just within reach, scratching their heads in frustration.
"You have no identification. You are not permitted to enter the mobile city."
The guard at the gate spoke calmly. But as he watched the crowd grow—from a dozen, to a few hundred, to nearly a thousand—his composure began to waver. Damn it… most of them are undead. If they all rushed us at once, would we really have to risk our lives for just three thousand a month?
Of course, not every player was hot-blooded or reckless. Soon, some stepped forward and asked the guards how they could obtain identification documents.
After all, this was the grand 2.0 main city. There was no way the NPCs would block entry outright. There had to be a prerequisite—some sort of paperwork or a quest. That's how new map expansions always worked.
The guards, relieved to be asked rather than rushed, explained the methods:
Reside in the nation for four years. Time spent away still counted toward the total.
Pass the official military's strength test. If accepted, the applicant would then fall under their jurisdiction.
Complete government-assigned missions.
Any of the three would qualify, though an exam would still be required afterward.
Some players who had already been based in one country for years exhaled in relief. The majority, however, were furious. Most of them played as mercenaries, drifting between nations for higher bounties and more lucrative jobs. Staying put for four years was out of the question.
Still, compared to the first option, the second sounded more appealing. A strength test? Who among the players didn't have confidence in their combat skills? The only catch was being bound to the official military afterward. That reeked of chains. Everyone wanted to be free. Who the hell wanted to be someone's dog forever?
As for the third option—government missions—it might be worth checking out. Likely a loyalty test of some kind.
The moment the guards finished speaking, the crowd erupted. Players surged toward the government office in the starter town, shouting as they went:
"Give us the quest already!"
---
On the land of Terra, sparks of fire had already been lit. And awaiting the adventurers—were they civilizations, fortified Cities, or the verses of bards yet to be sung?
End of volume 1: Terra Spark