"Milord! I'll summon Physician Bray at once!"
Lister Merrick had barely crossed the threshold of the estate before the butler's voice pierced the dusk-lit corridor. The man's aged eyes locked on the torn, blood-stained coat that hung off Lister's shoulders-half-dried, reeking of blood and sweat, as if he'd returned from a battlefield rather than a hunt.
Unsurprising.
The truth wasn't far off.
Unspoken in his worry was something deeper. The old butler, Anco, had served the Merrick family his whole life. His greatest hope wasn't to see their name restored-no, it was to quietly retire under the roof he'd grown old in.
If Lister died, the Merrick name would follow him to the grave. And Anco? He'd be cast adrift-an aging servant of a fallen house, too old to serve anyone new.
"A physician? Didn't you say the family no longer keeps professionals on retainer?"
"Bray isn't a class-holder, sir," Anco said. "But he studied in Willburg. He… knows how to set bones. Stop bleeding."
Since fully accepting this world as reality-and his identity within it-Lister had stopped taking risks. He wasn't a player anymore. There were no respawns. No quickloads.
Even fighting low-level Cerberus Riders felt… personal now.
Minutes later, Bray arrived. The man was elderly, with knotted hands and pale, observant eyes. He examined Lister with silent concern, his fingertips brushing old bruises and fresh scabs.
"The young lord appears to have sustained heavy impact," Bray said at last, "but no fractures. Rest, a warm bed, and perhaps a few drops of holy water will suffice."
He produced a sealed bottle of translucent green fluid from his robes. It looked like water, but the system's overlay marked it immediately:
[Item Acquired: Low-tier Healing Water (Church-grade)]
[Effect: Gradual restoration of HP and Stamina over time.]
Lister didn't drink it.
Not yet.
His health was recovering steadily-+20 HP per hour-while resting indoors. He would save the holy water for later, when he'd need it most.
His gaze shifted to the desk.
The same historical tome about the Lucian Kingdom lay open, untouched.
Just as he'd left it.
[Remaining EXP: 41,210]
Without hesitation, he allocated the bulk of it.
[Merrick Blade Technique: LV3 → LV4 (11,231 / 40,000)]
[Damage: 417–525 (+Strength scaling)]
It wasn't the optimal upgrade.
But in this world, survival outranked optimization.
Passive gains could wait-he needed firepower now.
He slept like a corpse.
And didn't wake for nearly twenty hours.
By the time he opened his eyes, it was dusk again.
A new day had quietly passed.
As ordered, Anco had prepared provisions-dried meat, smoked fruit, a full water skin. But before Lister could leave, the butler hesitated at the threshold.
"My lord… is this part of a mission to eliminate monsters in the surrounding region?"
Lister paused.
"Why do you ask?"
"You're still recovering," Anco said softly. "And while the duel one month from now-overseen by the Duke himself-will not be fatal, injuries are still possible. Embarrassment… is probable."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
Lister knew what he was implying.
If he entered that arena as he was now, he might survive. But he wouldn't win.
And a noble who loses face rarely gets a second chance.
"Wouldn't it be wiser to train here, milord?" Anco asked. "Build strength gradually, like the others do?"
That was the way of the natives.
Long hours. Endless repetition.
Years spent mastering technique through muscle memory and sweat.
Or, if you were rich enough, the rare shortcut-potions, rare treasures, monster cores.
But Lister had something no one else did:
Experience points.
Killing monsters = real progress.
Grinding = power.
He didn't need to wait years. He had a month.
"No need to worry," Lister said with a small smile. "Do you think I'd lose to someone like Quent?"
Anco bowed his head quickly.
"No, of course not. Milord is… unmatched."
He didn't sound convinced.
But he knew better than to argue.
Lister chuckled. Even his own butler couldn't bring himself to predict a win.
No wonder the Merrick name was fading.
Even inside his own household, belief had withered.
But not for long.
"Anco," he added before mounting, "I want you to keep tracking two things."
"Milord?"
"Anna. And Quent. Everything you can find on him-where he trains, who he meets, what equipment he uses. Bring it to me."
Anco bowed again, though a flicker of understanding passed through his eyes.
He thinks I'm spying out of jealousy, Lister realized.
Let him think that.
The hills welcomed him back with quiet winds.
He returned to the Cerberus nest he'd cleared two nights before.
The bodies were still there.
Torn, decaying, some already gnawed on by smaller scavengers.
A chill settled over him.
In the game, monster dens reset every 24 hours.
But here?
No respawn.
No reset.
Dead meant dead.
This world had no server timer.
Once something was gone, it stayed gone.
"Let's hope there are more nests."
Slash.
The sound of steel parting flesh echoed through the caves again.
This time, Lister fought differently.
Cautiously. Precisely.
Even the weakest Cerberus Rider didn't get underestimated.
He drew them out one at a time, killed with surgical efficiency, and conserved his stamina.
The LV4 Merrick Blade Technique proved lethal.
Its damage numbers weren't much higher on paper-but with his increased Strength scaling, it felt like he was cutting through air.
With every strike aimed at the base of their necks, he moved through the tunnels like a butcher in holy ritual.
Cerberus after Cerberus fell, their twitching corpses adding to the piles of the dead.
The further he went, the more human corpses he found too.
Flickers of gold and trinkets glinted from the heaps-but he ignored them.
He wasn't going to dig through rotting bodies for a few bronze coins.
Three hours later, the cave was silent again.
[EXP Remaining: 62,643]
[Merrick Breathing Technique: LV2 → LV3 (+3 Strength)]
[Merrick Blade Technique: LV4 → LV5 (1 / 50,000)]
[Damage: 537–635 (scales with Strength)]
[New Skill Unlocked: Merrick Blade Draw]
→ A wide-area slash targeting enemies around you.
→ Unlocks every 5 levels of Merrick Blade Technique.
→ Cannot be upgraded directly.
→ Scales with Strength.
Lister exhaled.
His clothes were soaked. His skin sticky with sweat and blood.
But his eyes gleamed.
He'd unlocked it-the Blade Draw.
A wide-sweeping AOE strike. Deadly in the right hands.
Not strong enough to kill a Cerberus Rider in one hit-
-but in the middle of a brawl, it was a weapon of survival.
In the game, martial artists rarely had access to AOE attacks.
That's why so many players, even late-game, had kept Merrick Blade Technique in their skill bars.
The damage wasn't exceptional.
But it was dependable. Wide. Clean.
And to Lister, it wasn't just another move.
It was a symbol.
A sign that the Merrick legacy lived on.
In blood.
And blade.