Liriel laughed, a harsh, humorless sound that seemed to shatter the peaceful quiet of the forest. "Playing a part, huh? I've been here for a year, kid. The only part I play is survival. And right now, the system says you're the resource. So let's cut the theatrics."
He lunged, not with a flourish or a battle cry, but with the ruthless efficiency of a veteran player. His movement was a blur, too fast for Rohan's human eyes to follow. He had only a split second to react, and it was pure instinct that made him raise his arm.
Liriel's fist, encased in a leather glove, connected with Rohan's forearm. The impact wasn't what he expected. It was a dull thud, not a sharp crack, and it felt like hitting a brick wall. Rohan's arm, however, felt a jarring tremor, but there was no pain. He stumbled back, more from surprise than from the force of the blow. He looked at his arm. The sleeve of his brown tunic was completely fine, not a tear or a bruise on his skin.
A faint, ghostly image flickered over his forearm—a glowing shield, barely visible, like a translucent layer of code. It dissipated as quickly as it appeared.
The Aegis of the Fallen King. The name echoed in his head, a memory half-remembered from a loading screen. It was an end-game shield that protected the user from all physical attacks under a certain power threshold. Liriel's attack must have been a low-level punch, a test.
Liriel's smile vanished. "What... how?" he muttered, his eyes narrowing.
He moved again, this time much faster. He drew his sheathed sword and thrust it towards Rohan's chest. The motion was fluid, practiced. Rohan couldn't even process the move. The blade met his torso with a loud clang. Sparks flew, and the sword bounced off as if it had struck solid steel.
Rohan looked down. He was wearing no armor, just the simple brown tunic. But another ethereal glow, this one like intricate chainmail, shimmered for a moment over his chest. A voice, clearer this time, whispered in his mind: Aegis of the Fallen King.
He was wearing the most powerful physical defense armor in the game. But he hadn't equipped it. It was simply... there. An automatic passive effect.
Liriel's expression darkened. He was no longer playing. His aura of easy confidence was replaced by a grim determination. He moved with a speed that defied human physics, a blur of motion that circled Rohan. He was a seasoned player in a low-level zone, and he was toying with his target. He unleashed a flurry of strikes, a rapid succession of sword slashes, kicks, and punches.
Clang! Thud! Ding!
Rohan's body became a drum, hit from all sides. He could feel the impacts, the powerful shockwaves that rattled his bones, but he felt no pain. Each blow was met by the ghostly shimmer of an unseen piece of legendary gear. He stumbled, falling to his knees as a kick sent him reeling. His head throbbed, not from a wound, but from the sheer concussion of the blows. He was surviving, but only barely. It was a humiliating, terrifying experience.
He wasn't fighting. He was a human punching bag. Liriel's inhuman agility and strength were overwhelming. Rohan could only dodge and stumble, hoping the passive abilities of the gear would hold up. He had the power, but he lacked the skill. He was the most powerful NPC in the world, and he was being pummeled by a player he couldn't even see.
"You're just a script, aren't you?" Liriel sneered, landing a powerful kick to Rohan's back that sent him sprawling face-first into the dirt. "Just an empty shell with a build. You can't even fight back."
As Rohan lay there, gasping for breath, his hand brushed against the hilt of the small knife he'd found. It's a low-level carving knife, his subconscious supplied. Good for foraging, useless for combat. But as his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a new sensation, a faint tremor of power, coursed through his arm.
He remembered a fleeting image, a flash of something in the game's lore. The hidden quest. The Last Guardian. The knife wasn't just a knife. It was the key. It was the trigger to unlock his true power. All he had to do was remember how to use it.
Rohan gritted his teeth, the humiliation giving way to a desperate resolve. He had to learn, right here, right now, how to fight for himself.Liriel backed away, a look of pure shock on his face. He'd been an Isekai'd player for a year, and he had seen some wild things, but this was beyond anything he'd ever encountered. He'd landed in the game as a low-level hero, grinding for months to get to a respectable power level, only to find himself now facing a character who was invulnerable to his attacks.
"It can't be... " he muttered, his eyes wide. "They said it was a myth. A lie by the top-tier guilds to cover up their cheats."
The "they" he was talking about were the other players, the Isekai'd. Liriel had heard the rumors, just as Rohan had. Whispers of a hidden quest, of an elusive NPC who held the most powerful gear in the game. But the community had dismissed it as a hoax. The few people who claimed to have found the "Lost Guardian" were accused of using cheats to get their overpowered gear. After all, who could believe that a single NPC could possess an entire collection of legendary, end-game artifacts?
And yet, here he was. The Lost Guardian, a scrawny kid who looked like he'd get winded running to the corner store, was casually deflecting Liriel's strongest low-level attacks with invisible, high-tier armor. The Sunstone Blade alone, with its ability to cut through almost any material, would have made Liriel unstoppable. And this kid had that and more.
"How are you doing this?" Liriel asked, his voice a low growl, a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.
Rohan, still on his knees, didn't answer. He was busy trying to process the flood of information coursing through his mind. The knife in his hand, the one he thought was a low-level carving tool, was shimmering faintly. It was a key. A key to his power. The legendary items were bound to him, a passive defense, but their active skills needed to be unlocked.
He had to remember the cheat codes.
He was a programmer. He knew how systems worked. The game, his memory, the legendary items, it was all code. He just had to remember the right sequence. The right command.
Liriel saw Rohan's focus, and a flash of rage crossed his face. He wouldn't let this fluke of a character slip away. He lunged again, this time aiming for the one place he knew would be a weakness: the head.
He delivered a swift, powerful kick, aimed at Rohan's temple. Rohan, still half-dazed, barely saw the blur of the movement. He didn't have time to remember a command, to find a pattern. This was his last chance. He had to react.
Just as the kick connected, Rohan flinched, his head snapping to the side. The impact still hit, but a different kind of glow flared this time. Not the solid gleam of the Aegis armor, but a quick, almost imperceptible flash of gold. The force of the blow still sent him tumbling backward, but again, he felt no pain, only a sense of profound shock.
His subconscious had executed a command.
A faint, ethereal image of a pair of winged boots appeared on his feet, an artifact called the Boots of the Ethereal Wanderer. The cheat, the ability to phase through attacks, was activated. He hadn't remembered it, but his body, guided by the deep-seated knowledge of the NPC, had known what to do.
Rohan scrambled to his feet, a renewed determination in his eyes. He still couldn't fight, not yet. But he could survive. He could evade. He was still the most powerful NPC in this world, and he wouldn't let this arrogant player take his second chance away.Liriel saw Rohan scramble to his feet, and a flicker of genuine alarm crossed his face. The kid was a total mystery. He was taking hits that should have turned him into a smear on the ground, and now he was getting up. It was impossible.
"I don't know what kind of bug this is, but you're not getting away," Liriel snarled. His body tensed, and a faint, shimmering aura of pure energy began to coalesce around his hands. This was a skill. Not a physical one, but an energy-based one. Rohan's defenses wouldn't work against it. This was the opening for the one-hit kill.
Rohan saw the glow, and a cold dread washed over him. He was a programmer; he understood variables and logic. He knew that the legendary armor, while strong, had its limits. It was a physical defense, not a magical one. His time was up.
He instinctively reached for the hilt of the small knife, a desperate, last-ditch effort to trigger some forgotten skill. His fingers closed around the smooth handle, and this time, the tremor wasn't just a flicker of power—it was a full-blown surge that shot up his arm and through his entire body.
He needed something, anything, that could give him an edge. His mind raced, pulling at fragmented memories from the game. He saw images of a fiery sword, a pulsing, purple staff, a shimmering shield. He needed one of them, but which one? He had to choose, but he couldn't. It was all a gamble, a coin toss of his own memory.
Just as Liriel's hands flared with a blinding light, a voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding.
"Liriel, stop!"
A young woman with fiery red hair and a sturdy crossbow slung over her back burst from the trees, followed by a hulking man in heavy plate armor. The woman, whose name Rohan instinctively knew was Lyra, put a hand on Liriel's arm.
"He's not a monster! What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice full of indignation.
Liriel's power fizzled out. "He's not just an NPC, Lyra! He's a player, and he's glitched! He's got all the gear. He's the Lost Guardian!"
The hulking knight, Brutus, took a step forward, his helmet giving him an imposing, expressionless face. "The Lost Guardian? That's a legend. A story for newbies. No one has ever found him." He looked at Rohan, who was still clutching the small knife, his body trembling with the adrenaline and the strain of his instinctive power. "And even if you're right... you were about to use a Void Strike. We agreed not to use that unless we absolutely had to. It drains too much mana and it's a last resort."
Rohan's mind instantly connected the pieces. Void Strike. A single-target, high-damage skill with a massive mana cost. The one-hit KO move that Liriel had been trying to use. It was his signature move, but in this world, it had consequences.
Liriel shrugged Lyra's hand off. "This is a life or death situation! He has the end-game loot! The system log says so! With all that, we could finally face Chronos!"
The name of the final boss brought another flood of fragmented memories to Rohan's mind. In the game, Chronos was the end-game raid boss. A tough, but beatable, final challenge. But Liriel's words, the panic in his voice, suggested something more.
"The final boss..." Rohan murmured, the small knife in his hand feeling impossibly heavy. "It evolved?"
Lyra's face fell. "We... think so. The power-level of this world has changed. When the players started showing up, so did the stronger monsters. The final raid boss, Chronos, isn't just a raid boss anymore. He's a living, growing entity. He's become a higher being."
She looked at Rohan, her eyes softening. "We need all the help we can get. The system tells us that you, as the Lost Guardian, have access to a power that can stop him. We need you to join us. Our goal is to beat the game so we can go home."
Lyra extended a hand to him. Rohan stared at her, then at Liriel, his mind reeling. He wasn't a quest for Liriel to clear. He was a crucial part of a world that had evolved and was now in danger. And he, a simple programmer who died from overwork, was now humanity's last hope.
He looked at his hand, still holding the small knife. He knew he couldn't control the power within it. He was a walking gamble, a living slot machine of legendary skills. But he had no choice. He had to bet on himself.
He took Lyra's hand and slowly pulled himself up. Then he said " But why should I go with you? "