Vincent’s eyes locked onto the Drakorii woman before him, his gaze intense behind his mask. “Whatever I want, you say?”
Azhara took an involuntary step back, unnerved by his piercing stare.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ignoring her question, Vincent pressed on. “Tell me, young lady, what can you offer?”
“What do you want? I have many things here…” Azhara waved her hand, and suddenly the air shimmered. A dazzling array of items materialized before them: crystals that seemed to pulse with inner light, gems that sparkled like captured stars, potions in every color of the rainbow, and various light orbs with possible variety of rare items.
Vincent’s eyes widened behind his mask, fixated on the black ring with its neon light design adorning Azhara’s finger.
‘She’s loaded!’ he thought, barely containing his excitement. ‘If this were a game, she’d be the walking loot box!’
Unaware of Vincent’s reaction due to his mask, Azhara misinterpreted his silence.
“Is this not enough?” she asked, worry creeping into her voice.
Vincent cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “Which of these are you willing to offer?”
Azhara tilted her head, puzzled. “What do you mean? Of course, I’ll be giving you all of this.”
“What?!” Vincent exclaimed, his composure slipping. ‘Is this girl for real?’
“What’s wrong? Is this really not enough? In that case—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Vincent hurriedly interjected as Azhara prepared to summon even more items. “That’s more than enough! Any more and we’ll need a moving truck!”
“Really?” she asked, uncertainty written all over her face.
“Yes, really,” Vincent assured her, marveling at her naivety. ‘How has she survived in this world with such an attitude? Did she fall out of a “Rich Kids of Fantasy Land” reality show?’
Composing himself, Vincent addressed her request. “Listen, I’ll agree to bring you with me if you promise to follow my instructions. Are you alright with that?” His tone was firm, like a teacher laying down classroom rules.
“Yes, I promise!” Azhara nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining brighter than her jewels.
“Good. Let’s introduce ourselves properly. You can address me as Shroud,” Vincent said, opting to use his alias. He couldn’t simply trust her, no matter how adorably clueless she seemed.
“I’m Azhara, a Drakorii,” she replied cheerfully, as if her dragon-like features weren’t already a dead giveaway.
“Alright, Azhara. Are you prepared to leave?”
“Yes,” Azhara smiled gently. “Before I came here, my father even gave me a gift.”
With a flash of crimson energy, a beautiful silver rapier materialized, its rose-shaped crossguard gleaming. Vincent sensed a subtle flame energy emanating from the blade.
‘An armament?!’ Vincent thought, astonished. His curiosity about Azhara’s background deepened. She was clearly from a privileged background, equipped with rare items and gifted an armament by her father. ‘Great, I’m babysitting a dragon princess. What could possibly go wrong?’
As they left the Sanctuary, heading towards the Verdant Wilds, a shadowy figure stealthily followed them.
In the Verdant Wilds, Vincent’s blade flashed, cleaving a ferocious Blackbite Rat in two. The creature dissolved into digital lights, leaving behind a small, dark tooth.
[You have killed a Blackbite Rat!]
[You can’t gain more experience points]
It had been merely an hour since they entered the Verdant Wilds, and Vincent had already maxed out his experience points. The reason? Azhara had panicked at the sight of a bug—a mere Tier 1 – 1★ primal—and stumbled into a Blackbite Rat’s den.
“It’s just a bug!” Vincent had yelled as Azhara flailed around.
“But it’s so… buggy!” she had shrieked back, demonstrating a remarkable grasp of the obvious.
Although individually weak, the sheer number of rats had been overwhelming. Vincent lost count after slaying a hundred. Fortunately, Azhara proved her worth with her fire affinity and rare armament, allowing them to vanquish the horde.
Exhaling heavily, Vincent turned to the silent Azhara. “What did you promise before I agreed to your request?”
Azhara, too ashamed to respond, could only mumble an inaudible apology.
Vincent sighed. “Forget about it. Let’s take a short rest before we look for flairmuse and conclude this deal. And maybe invest in some bug spray.”
As he began collecting the materials dropped by the Blackbite Rats, Azhara watched him curiously.
“Why are you putting those in a backpack?”
“Because I don’t have a storage item,” Vincent replied, not looking up from his task.
“Eh? But why? Isn’t this item cheap?” Azhara wondered, glancing at the black ring on his finger.
Vincent’s lips twitched. ‘Young miss, you have a nice way of indirectly calling me poor to my face!’ he thought. ‘Maybe I should start a GoFundMe: “Help a Poor Origin Warrior Buy a Magic Backpack.”‘
“No, it’s not. They’re not cheap, and I can’t afford them yet,” he admitted.
“But father has many of these…” Azhara muttered before her eyes lit up with an idea. She approached Vincent, who immediately turned, still cautious.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Um, I’d like to give you this as an apology for my mistake earlier…” Azhara held out a black ring—a storage ring.
Surprised but wary, Vincent asked, “Are you sure?”
Azhara nodded with a gentle smile, pressing the ring into his hand.
“I am sure. Please accept it.”
Though still dubious, Vincent accepted the gift. “Then, I’ll gladly take it. Thanks.” He bound the ring to himself.
As they prepared to continue their journey, a twig snapped in the nearby underbrush. Vincent tensed, his hand moving to his [Darksteel Sword].
“Azhara, stay close,” he whispered. “And please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t scream if it’s another bug.”
Suddenly, five rough-looking men with different races emerged from the foliage, their eyes gleaming with malice. Vincent quickly assessed them—Tier 1 – 4★ bandits, each slightly stronger than him individually.
“Well, well,” the leader sneered, a Tier 1 – 5★ brute with a nasty scar across his face. “Looks like the little princess has some valuable trinkets. How about sharing with us, sweetheart?”
Azhara gasped, instinctively moving closer to Vincent. “W-who are you?”
The bandit leader chuckled darkly. “We saw your little display back at the Sanctuary. Couldn’t resist following such a tempting target.”
“Wow,” Vincent muttered, “stalking is really becoming an epidemic these days. Have you guys considered a less creepy hobby? Like knitting, perhaps?”
The bandit leader’s eye twitched. “Enough talk! Hand over the valuables, or else!”
Vincent’s mind raced, his mental score of 3.5 working overtime to formulate a strategy. These men were indeed higher-level than him, but he had his skills and talents to even the odds. He even had an option to upgrade his level now.
“Gentlemen,” Vincent said calmly, “I suggest you reconsider. This young lady is under my protection, and I assure you, the consequences of harming her would be… severe.” He paused for dramatic effect.
“Also, has anyone ever told you that you’re really embracing the whole ‘evil bandit’ stereotype a bit too enthusiastically?”
The bandits hesitated for a moment, but their greed won out. They charged forward, weapons raised.
Vincent pushed Azhara behind him, his [Darksteel Sword] vibrating. “Stay back,” he warned her. “And remember, if you see any bugs, they’re on our side this time!”
He met the first attacker head-on, their weapons clashing with a shower of sparks. Using his superior speed, enhanced by his Basic Origin Movement Speed skill, Vincent ducked under the bandit’s guard.
“[Virulent Stinger]!” Vincent called out, activating his Uncommon skill. The [Darksteel Sword] glowed with a sickly light as it found a gap in the man’s armor. The bandit howled in pain as the poison took effect, his movements slowing.
As the first bandit stumbled back, the others closed in. Vincent weaved between them, his movements fluid and precise. He couldn’t match them in raw strength, but his agility and quick thinking kept him one step ahead.
“[Darksteel Slash]!”
Vincent’s sword glowed with dark energy as he unleashed his weapon skill on the second bandit. The enhanced attack caught the man off guard, opening a deep gash across his chest and sending him reeling.
“Azhara!” he called out, parrying a vicious blow from the third bandit. “Use your fire! Create a barrier!”
Understanding dawned in Azhara’s eyes. She raised her hands, channeling her innate Drakorii abilities, and a wall of flames sprang up between them and the remaining bandits.
The attackers recoiled, momentarily blinded by the intense heat and light.
“Hot enough for you?” Vincent quipped. “I hear fire is great for roasting marshmallows… and bandits!”
Seizing the opportunity, Vincent activated [Basic Origin Movement Speed], his form blurring as he dashed through the gaps in the flame barrier. His [Darksteel Sword] flashed twice in rapid succession, leaving two more bandits clutching at bleeding wounds.
The bandit leader, seeing his men fall one by one, snarled in rage. He charged at Vincent, his superior strength sending shockwaves through the air with each swing of his massive axe.
Vincent, recognizing the danger, focused his Origin Power into his blade. As the bandit leader’s axe came crashing down, Vincent sidestepped and countered with a precisely aimed [Virulent Stinger].
The poisoned blade found its mark, sinking deep into the leader’s thigh.
The massive man roared in pain and fury, his movements becoming sluggish as the poison spread. Vincent, seeing his chance, unleashed a flurry of strikes, each empowered by his C-Rank Origin Power Enhancement talent.
Finally, with a decisive [Darksteel Slash], Vincent brought the bandit leader to his knees. The remaining attackers, seeing their invincible boss defeated, turned tail and fled into the woods.
“And stay out!” Vincent called after them. “Next time, try a less dangerous profession. I hear the Verdant Wilds are short on telemarketers!”
Panting slightly, Vincent turned to Azhara, who stared at him with wide, awe-filled eyes.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice rough from exertion.
Azhara nodded, still too shocked to speak. Vincent quickly gathered what valuable items the bandits had left behind, his new storage ring proving immediately useful.
“We need to move,” Vincent said urgently.
“They might have friends nearby.” Grabbing Azhara’s hand, they sprinted deeper into the Verdant Wilds, leaving the groaning bandits behind.
‘Is it really that difficult to have a peaceful experience farming..?’
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