Poof!
Sakeer twisted the sword slightly, and the wild boar's final breath left its body.
Blood seeped from the wound — dark and sluggish rather than spraying — just as Lehr had advised. The strike was clean, efficient.
"Ding! Gained 15 XP!"
A notification flickered across Sakeer's status panel.
[Status Panel]
Innate Ability: [Player]Overall Level: Lv2Experience: 95/100Classes:Basic Class: Genius Lv1 (Warrior, Priest)Intermediate Class: Sword Master Lv1Skill Points: 0
Passive Skills:
Item BoxSlash Increase (1%)
Active Skills:
Warrior: Instant Reflex, Four Lights Slash, Quick SlashMagic: Minor Injury Heal (1st Tier)
Sakeer scanned his stats. Only 5 more experience points to level up — faster than he'd anticipated.
He'd barely done anything, just killed a few beasts.
But that was normal. With his current low level, gaining experience was still easy. As he progressed, he knew things would become far more difficult.
"Hmph."
Lizzie's earlier satisfied expression had vanished.
At first, she thought Sakeer had taken her advice to heart — that he would focus on his magic talent and not waste time elsewhere.
Now? Clearly, he hadn't listened at all.
Sakeer pretended not to notice her disapproval.
In this world, reaching Level 29 meant stepping into the Hero Realm — the pinnacle for most humans. Anyone who achieved this was considered a powerhouse in human society.
However...
Even with exceptional talent and relentless effort, most humans hit their limit around Level 40 — a threshold reserved for those deemed "abnormal" in strength and skill.
This wasn't a matter of dedication or talent anymore — it was simply the racial limit.
Even the four most powerful human "Elders" — all of whom were rumored to be somewhat inhuman — had barely surpassed this boundary.
And yet...
For Sakeer, Level 40 was only the starting line.
It was inevitable.
If he intended to oppose the powerful forces of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, no human would ever be strong enough to stand beside him.
That reality shaped his decisions.
When he first arrived in this world, Sakeer had wrestled with whether to specialize in magic or martial classes. In the end, he chose both — a decision driven by necessity.
Without reliable allies, mastering both paths gave him a better chance of survival against Nazarick's formidable threats.
"You're getting better at this."
Lehr's voice drew Sakeer from his thoughts.
"But don't get cocky," Lehr added with a grin. "Monsters are nothing like ordinary beasts."
With practiced ease, Lehr lifted the lifeless boar and began expertly carving it.
"Gotta start somewhere," Sakeer replied with a small smile.
He picked up a porcelain jar he'd borrowed from Nfirea and emptied his water bag into it.
Then, balancing the jar over the campfire, he let it heat.
This jar was originally meant for storing medicinal herbs, but since it wasn't in use, Sakeer had repurposed it as a kettle.
"You really seem to like hot water."
Nfirea, watching Sakeer's familiar routine, couldn't hold back his curiosity.
For several days now, Sakeer had insisted on boiling river water before drinking it.
"Oh, it's nothing special," Sakeer replied, settling cross-legged near the fire. He smiled slightly. "Just a tradition from my hometown."
Nfirea blinked in surprise but didn't press further.
In this world, customs and beliefs varied from region to region, and it was common courtesy not to pry too deeply.
Among the human nations, the dominant faith centered around the Six Gods.
In truth, humans in this world owed a great deal to the first wave of players who arrived long ago — those early visitors had shaped much of the world's structure and beliefs.
The world may have been vast and filled with unknown dangers, but here — on the map of humanity — those echoes of the past still lingered.
Though humanity's territory may seem vast, it occupies only a small fraction of the continent — a mere corner in the northwest.
The heart of the continent belongs to subhumans and xenomorphs, where humans are little more than slaves... or food.
In this world, non-human races possess longer lifespans and far higher growth potential. Compared to them, humans are short-lived and inherently weaker — a species burdened by limited potential.
By all logic, humanity should have been wiped out long ago. Surviving, let alone claiming a portion of the continent, seemed impossible.
And indeed...
Six hundred years ago, humanity teetered on the brink of extinction.
But then, the first group of players — remembered as the Six Gods — arrived.
With overwhelming power, they rescued humanity, guiding them to the northwest corner of the continent and securing a place for their survival.
This is why the Six Gods remain the cornerstone of faith across all human nations.
But unfortunately...
Aside from the one known as the God of Death, the other five gods were all human — mortal beings bound by short lifespans. One by one, they passed away within a century.
The sole surviving God of Death met his end 500 years ago — killed during a climactic battle with the infamous King of Eight Desires.
Compared to the Six Gods, the King of Eight Desires seemed far more like a player — unpredictable, ambitious, and ruthless. Even their self-proclaimed title hinted at dominance over the entire continent.
Curiously, despite the King's notorious nature, human society harbored surprisingly few stories depicting them as evil. Records even suggested that, unlike most subhumans and xenomorphs, the King of Eight Desires showed a surprising fondness for humanity.
Perhaps that's why, even now, this powerful figure isn't widely demonized in human folklore.
"Six hundred years ago, the Six Gods arrived...
Five hundred years ago, the King of Eight Desires appeared...
Two hundred years ago, the Demon Gods emerged, followed by the Thirteen Heroes...
And somewhere along the way, there were rumors of other players descending upon this world."
Sakeer's thoughts raced.
"And soon... the 'Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick' will appear."
Almost like clockwork, every century seemed to mark the arrival of another player.
Given this pattern, Sakeer speculated that the Dragon Lords — ancient beings of immense power and knowledge — had likely already noticed this trend. They would surely be prepared for the next wave of players.
"But this time... it's different."
The arrival of the Six Gods had been abrupt. The King of Eight Desires? Unpredictable. Even the Thirteen Heroes' actions were largely unknown.
But Nazarick?
The sheer power of the Great Tomb far eclipsed any previous player group.
"If the Dragon Lords could clash with Nazarick early... I might be able to turn that chaos to my advantage."
A cunning smile formed on Sakeer's lips.
Even if the Dragon Lords lost, their struggle would weaken Nazarick's forces — a scenario that only benefited him.
(End of Chapter)