The march began under the cold light of dawn.
Dozens of soldiers moved in tight formations, boots striking dirt in steady rhythm. Banners of Ashwood fluttered above them, iron-tipped spears glinting. Every motion spoke of discipline, of drilled training far beyond anything coded NPCs had ever shown in a game before.
Kenji rode his small Ashwood Pony near the rear ranks, eyes scanning. The Guard Captain barked orders at the front, while the Tier 1 Envoy rode silently, cloak flowing, aura heavy as stone.
Around them, the forest shifted. Birds scattered. The normal sounds of life grew quiet, replaced by the creak of leather armor, the clink of steel, the steady breath of soldiers heading toward war.
Kenji's grip tightened on his Twin Fangs.
Whispers floated between the NPC soldiers.
"They say it's a beast taller than trees.""Bah, with the Captain here we'll hold the line.""Then why did the Envoy come, eh? Capital doesn't send them for nothing."
Kenji smirked faintly.
NPCs gossiping like this… It's eerie. Too real. They don't feel scripted—they feel alive.
But his attention shifted when the system pinged.
[Other Players Detected: Legendary Quest Participants.]
At the forward staging area, two figures stood apart from the NPC formations.
The first drew his eye immediately.
A healer in flowing robes, staff in hand. Her aura radiated calm, confidence, warmth. Her appearance wasn't generic like the starter models—her face bore sharp definition, her hair moved with detail far above standard settings.
Skarlie.
Kenji had seen her name on the Ranking Board. She stood with easy poise, sunlight catching in her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips as she greeted soldiers like a commander.
Somehow she customized her avatar? Premium access?
He shook the thought away. He wasn't curious enough to waste energy. Whatever trick she had used, it didn't change his path.
Beside her stood a slimmer figure: a young man with a bow slung across his back. His hands fidgeted against the string, eyes darting nervously.
Kyl.
Level 6, ranked #10 regionally. His movements screamed anxiety. He wasn't sure if this was bravery or suicide.
"Ah, GrayWolf," Skarlie called, her voice warm, welcoming. "I wondered if I'd see you here."
Kenji approached, nodding.
"You triggered it too," he said evenly.
"Seems we all did," she replied, eyes flicking to Kyl. "Though maybe by different means."
Kyl swallowed hard. "I… I gave up something. Don't know if it was worth it."
Kenji offered no sympathy. His gaze lingered on them both, mind working.
better allies than enemies. For now.
A party invite appeared.
[Skarlie has invited you to join a group.][Party: Skarlie (Lv7, Healer), Kyl (Lv6, Archer), GrayWolf (Lv7, Duel Swords).]
Kenji clicked Accept.
[Party Formed.]
Their names glowed in the corner of his vision. The benefits were clear—shared health bars, coordination, easier tracking.
"Let's watch each other's backs," Skarlie said softly.
"Until it's over," Kenji replied. His tone was polite, but his mind was elsewhere.
She radiates positivity, but positivity doesn't win wars. Positioning, timing, ruthlessness—that's what decides fights.
The horns of the Guard Captain blared, echoing through the forest.
"Hold formation! Ready spears! Archers to the rear!"
The NPC army tightened ranks. Shields locked, bows drawn, healers raised staves.
Kenji's eyes narrowed. He felt it before he saw it.
The trees shuddered. Birds erupted from the canopy in a chaotic cloud. The ground trembled under heavy steps.
Then it emerged.
A beast of nightmare—its body massive, like a wolf fused with a bear, muscles rippling, fangs longer than swords. Red eyes glowed like embers. Its hide bristled with black thorns.
[Regional Boss Detected: Thornhide Ravager (Lv ???)]
With a roar that shook the clearing, the creature charged, slamming into the first rank of NPC soldiers. Shields shattered. Men screamed. The formation buckled.
Kenji's heartbeat quickened.
So it begins.
He spun his blades into position, mind already calculating angles, cooldowns, escape routes.
In chaos, the clever survive. In war, the schemers thrive.
This was no grind. This was survival.