In a crystal cave Dante swung his sword in a wide arc, cleaving the head clean off his opponent's shoulders. The body collapsed to the ground in a heap, pixelated blood pooling beneath it.
"Too easy," Dante muttered, flicking the blood off his blade. This was his third kill tonight in the lawless VR world of Paradigm Online.
Once a popular VRMMORPG, Paradigm Online had long since been abandoned by its developers, left adrift with servers still online but no updates or support.
The player base had dwindled to only the most dedicated - and deranged - who reveled in the complete freedom afforded by the lack of rules or consequences.
Kill, loot, exploit - do whatever you want. That was the allure for those who still played Paradigm.
Dante was one of the best. His avatar towered over most players, with a skinny build but sharp features, sharp teeth, and a red coat.
Unlike his real self, the calm, composed scholar his family knew, in Paradigm Dante was rage incarnate, taking out his frustrations on anyone foolish enough to stand in his way.
[Congratulations, you have reached level 455!] A notification box popped up in front of Dante. He grinned wickedly, allocating all his new skill points to strength and Dexterity. He ranked 5th but at this rate, he'd soon be the highest-level player in the game.
Dante turned and teleported.
He strode through the rubble-strewn streets of the Dark City, once the tutorial area now a lawless hub for deranged players.
Fires burned unattended, the acrid smell of smoke hanging thick in the air. Most buildings were abandoned shells, no one bothering to repair or maintain the decaying metropolis.
Still, it suited Dante just fine. The chaos and destruction mirrored the tumult in his soul.
In the distance, two players were dueling in the dead fountain area at the city center. A crowd had gathered to watch the battle unfold.
Dante changed course, shoving through the onlookers toward the front. The larger fighter with blonde hair wore heavy plate armor that marked him as a warrior class he was named [Rc] the 52th ranked player, while his opponent was a leather-clad rogue who darted and flipped with acrobatic grace.
Dante watched with interest as the two clashed, blades sparking off shields and slicing through armor.
Despite the rogue's agility, Rc's sheer power steadily whittled down his health. A crushing overhead blow finally finished him off, the warrior driving his sword through the rogue's heart. The crowd erupted into raucous cheers.
As the victor basked in the adulation, Dante stepped forward. "My turn" he declared, equipping his massive zweihander as it forms from pixels in his hand. All eyes turned to him, the cheering cutting off abruptly.
Rc sized up the new challenger. Recognition flashed across his features. "Well, if it isn't Dante" he laughed. "Come to claim my head as a trophy?"
Rc and Dante were friends online, and although not extremely close, their connection was still engaging.
"It will look lovely mounted on a wall" Dante replied evenly.
The warrior hefted his sword with a grin. "Don't be so cocky."
[Danger Two high level players are fighting in a green zone] A text box appeared to everyone, but no player cared this was Paradigm after all.
Without warning, the warrior lunged, his blade seeking to run Dante through.
But Dante sidestepped the blow with ease, bringing his own sword around in a vicious swipe. The warrior's shield barely blocked in time, the force of the strike pushing him back.
For several minutes they traded blows, Dante giving no quarter as he relentlessly pressed the attack. The warrior was skilled, but Dante's raw power soon overwhelmed his defenses.
A devastating slash caved in the side of the warrior's helmet, sending him staggering. Dante moved in for the kill, his sword cleaving downwards in an unstoppable arc...
The crowd was deathly silent as the warrior's severed head toppled from his shoulders, the body crumpling limply after. Dante let out a bestial roar, basking in his victory.
Just then, a shimmering portal opened up beside him. An automated voice announced, [You have been randomly selected for a prison raid. Transferring now...]
"Oh fu-" Before Dante could react, the portal sucked him in, warping him away from the Dark City.
He found himself standing before a massive stone fortress, ringed by high walls and guard towers. The Ancient Bastille, one of Paradigm's maximum security prisons and home to some of its most notorious boss monsters.
A raid was one of the most hated mechanics of Paradigm, as in after level 10 you don't know when it will show up and take you to your death.
Other players began appearing around Dante, similarly summoned by the random raid assignment system. He counted twenty in all, sizing them up. A mix of warriors, rogues, mages, and healers - a well-balanced team. They could prove useful.
The prison gates groaned open. [Raid commencing in 30 seconds] the voice intoned. [Survive and be rewarded.]
Dante hefted his sword in anticipation. The bosses here dropped some of the best loot in the game. He would paint the dungeon red with blood. When it was over, he'd be even stronger.
The countdown ended and the raiding party rushed into the fortress.
Immediately they were set upon by hulking brutish jailers wielding massive spiked clubs. Dante bisected the first one that came at him, black ichor splattering his face.
On he pressed through the dank dungeon corridors, his fierce shouts mixing with the screams of his prey.
Dante's relentless advance through the gloomy prison was a symphony of death and destruction.
His blade danced through the air, cleaving through the zombie jailers who dared to stand in his path. The clanging of metal against metal, the wet thuds of bodies hitting the ground, and the agonized cries of the jailers echoed through the stone corridors.
As the raiding party followed Dante's lead using him as a shield while he gave no care to that, they quickly realized they were in the presence of a true gaming legend.
He moved with a grace and precision that seemed almost supernatural. His swordsmanship was a deadly art, a deadly dance, and the jailers were mere pawns in his grand performance.
One by one, the jailers fell before Dante's onslaught, their grotesque forms collapsing into pools of foul-smelling ichor. The raid party watched in awe and terror, realizing that their survival hinged on this lone warrior.
Amidst the chaos, Dante noticed a shimmering aura from a nearby chamber.
It was the boss's room, and Dante knew that the most formidable challenge awaited him there. The rest of the raid party had dwindled in numbers, casualties of the relentless onslaught of jailers. Now, only Dante remained, standing before the imposing chamber door.
With a deep breath, Dante pushed open the door to the boss room.
Inside, he beheld a sight he saw a million times. A colossal, armored behemoth stood before him, its body adorned with intricate, glowing runes.
It was [The Jail-heart], the guardian of the Ancient Bastille.
The Jail-heart's eyes glowed with an eerie crimson light as it regarded Dante. Its voice, deep and resonant, echoed through the chamber. "You have come to challenge me, intruder. Prepare for your doom."
Dante flashed a confident smile, his sharp teeth gleaming, and adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Doom? I've served it up countless times. Ready for another taste?"
The battle between Dante and The Jail-heart erupted with thunderous force. The boss swung its massive, rune-encrusted mace, but Dante deftly dodged the blow, narrowly avoiding being crushed. The impact left a gaping crater in the stone floor.
Dante retaliated with a series of lightning-fast strikes, his sword finding chinks in The Jail-heart's armor. Sparks flew as metal met metal, and the chamber reverberated with the clash of titans.
Dante's agility and precision allowed him to exploit the boss's vulnerabilities, slowly chipping away at its health.
[The Jail-heart Health 50437/1058100]
"You are skilled, but you cannot defeat me" The Jail-heart boomed, launching a devastating shockwave that sent Dante flying across the chamber.
Dante rose to his feet, bloodied but undeterred. "You underestimate the power of a player who refuses to lose."
The battle raged on, each exchange of blows pushing Dante and The Jail-heart to their limits. The boss unleashed a torrent of dark energy, but Dante's determination and skill allowed him to deflect the attack, sending the energy cascading back towards The Jail-heart.
With a deafening explosion, The Jail-heart's armor cracked, and its crimson eyes dimmed. Dante seized the opportunity, delivering a final, thunderous strike that shattered the boss's remaining defenses.
The Jail-heart let out a deafening roar as it crumbled to the ground, defeated.
Dante stood victorious, his breath ragged, and his body covered in wounds. The boss room was bathed in an eerie silence as the raid's conclusion played out.
The automated voice returned [Congratulations, Player Dante. You have defeated The Jail-heart. Your rewards await.]
Dante wiped the sweat and blood from his brow, panting heavily. He had conquered one of the most formidable challenges in Paradigm again.
After an hour of relentless slaughter, Dante emerged bloody but triumphant from the depths of the prison.
The loot was good - an epic two-handed axe with a chance to do bleed damage.
"Hmmm 600 more damage yet less durability, this could be good for now"
He swapped it for his trusty sword; he was always seeking to improve his kit.
Checking the time, Kanzaki decided to call it a day. He opened his menu and selected the log-out option. His avatar evaporated into pixels as the world faded away slowly...
Kanzaki awoke in his real body, lying on his bed surrounded by the gently humming consoles and haptic suits that comprised his state-of-the-art VR rig.
For a moment he was disoriented. Who was he here, in the real world? His violent, aggressive game persona felt more real than this flesh-and-blood form.
Slowly the fog cleared from his mind. Here he was Satoru Kanzaki, 17-year-old ace student at the Minamoto Academy.
Outwardly he seemed a model child - handsome, polite, top of his class. But inside he seethed with a barely contained rage, stemming from the staggering pressures placed on him by his family in the end he was Satoru not Dante and he knew it.
His parents were both surgeons, and his siblings overachieving doctors and lawyers. Expectations for Satoru were sky-high; only relentless perfection was acceptable.
This drove him to obsessively study and train in various pursuits - martial arts, classical piano, speed chess - honing skills far beyond his peers.
Yet he took no joy in any of it. There was only the cold, grim satisfaction of living up to his family's demands.
He had to be the best, always, no matter the cost. Emotions were a pointless distraction. Weakness would not be tolerated.
Satoru rose mechanically from his bed and crossed the room to his private bathroom. As he washed off the sweat from his extended session in Paradigm, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
To the outside world, he was the very model of a serious, disciplined student. But alone, he could see the turmoil behind his own eyes. The rage never quite extinguished, only suppressed until he could unleash it again in the virtual world.
After showering, Satoru put on his school uniform and headed downstairs.
His family was gathered for breakfast in the massive, modern kitchen. Father and mother are already dressed for work, reviewing patient charts on tablets between bites.
Older brother Isamu talking loudly about his achievements at law school. Younger sister Fumiko staring lovingly at a picture of a boy band.
They barely looked up as Satoru entered and took a seat at the table. "Good morning, Satoru," his mother said briskly. "I trust you completed your studies last night? The mock exams are soon."
"Yes mother. I am fully prepared" Satoru replied in an even, measured tone. Inside his thoughts seethed. Why must they always begin with an interrogation?
"Remember what happened to Isamu when he scored second in his cohort?" father asked, not looking up from his charts. "One slip leads to another. Stay sharp."
"Of course, father." Satoru gripped his chopsticks tight to stop his hand from shaking. Just one outburst, just a moment of lost control, and he would confirm their deepest fears about him. He slowly unclenched his fist.
He lacked the same natural talent as them entirely, and it was at the tender age of 5 when he first started to stage a performance of absolute perfection.
"Sit up straight, Satoru" Mother chided. "A slouching posture suggests laziness and weakness."
Satoru straightened. "My apologies."
Breakfast proceeded quietly, his family returning to their own tasks. Satoru finished quickly and stood. "I will be going now. Would not want to be late."
His parents nodded, waving him off. His siblings ignored him, absorbed in their distractions. And so he set out alone, as always, to walk the mile to Minamoto Academy.
The crisp fall air was refreshing after the stale environment of his home. As Satoru walked, he passed neighbors and shopkeepers on their morning errands.
To them, he would seem to be taking in the beauty of the red-tinged leaves fluttering in the breeze. But in truth he was stewing, casting his awareness out like a net to fish for secrets and rumors. Information was power, after all.
By the time Satoru arrived at the academy gates, his head was swarming with fresh gossip. He would have to decide what was worth retaining versus discarding. For now, he shifted mental gears, assuming the guise of the perfect student once more.
He exchanged perfunctory greetings with his classmates as he changed to indoor shoes and ascended to the third-year homeroom.
Most tried to engage him further, praising his intelligence or trying to share their silly teen problems, but he deflected it all with polite disinterest. None could know the real him.
The morning classes proceeded much the same, with Satoru answering questions flawlessly when called upon and taking meticulous notes. Yet it was all a tiresome chore.
He found no joy in learning for its own sake - only utility in high grades and accolades bringing pride to his family. 'How boring, how pointless.'
When lunch period finally came, Satoru grabbed his bento box from his bag and made for the door. His classmates tried to invite him to eat with them, but he declined as always. He preferred to eat alone on the roof, away from their inane chatter.
Up on the roof, the autumn wind was stronger, tossing Satoru's hair as he selected a spot tucked out of sight behind the air ducts. From here he could quietly eat and observe the city streets below.
Satoru picked at his food, appetite fading. He felt like a prisoner in his own life, able to taste freedom only in the virtual world of Paradigm. Yet even there he was trapped by his uncontrollable anger and bloodlust. Was there nowhere he truly belonged?
A commotion below jolted Satoru from his gloom. A group of five boys had cornered another youth in an alley and were roughly shoving him back and forth.
Satoru instantly recognized the assailants - members of a gang who extorted weaker students. He had tapped them as potential pawns months ago, enthralled by their cruelty.
Satoru watched, conflicted, as the bullies continued their torment. The victim covered his head and pleaded for them to stop. Part of Satoru knew he should fetch a teacher or intervene directly.
But the other half was...intrigued. Curious to see how far those teens would go. Their violence echoed his own, barely repressed.
In the end, the gang seemed satisfied with just the terror they inflicted, leaving their bruised victim cowering as they swaggered off.
Satoru let out a breath, not realizing he had been holding it. Why is this fascination with brutality, real or virtual? He truly was twisted inside.
The bell cut off Satoru's introspection, signaling the end of lunch. He rose quickly, eager to lose himself in a bland routine again. But before descending from the roof, he stole one last look at the alley.
The beaten student was gone, but Satoru's interest in the gang was piqued. Perhaps there was potential to utilize them.
Afternoon classes proceeded smoothly, Satoru earning praise from teachers that he shrugged off with false humility.
His mind kept returning to the incident he witnessed at lunch. The gang's domination of the weaker student was a microcosm of Satoru's own family dynamics - the high expectations, the pressure to succeed, and the lack of empathy for failure. Were these violent impulses inevitable in a competitive, hierarchical world? he couldn't understand.
While at school, he came across a rumor concerning a girl who supposedly played Paradigm.
Paradigm was played by everyone back then breaking world records, but now it is viewed as an old dead famous game only played by the outcast which gave its players a bad light.
However, this rumor appeared to be not true from his point of view as he noticed that certain girls seemed to be spreading it with the intent to bully her for stupid reasons. Even if she did indeed play the game, Satoru remained indifferent.
At last, the final bell rang, freeing Satoru from the tedious social rituals of school. He gathered up his books quickly, hoping to avoid his classmates' overtures of friendship. He just wanted to be alone with his dark thoughts.
Stepping outside the school gates, Satoru began the long walk home. But just then, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb beside him. The tinted window rolled down to reveal Satoru's older brother Isamu.
"Get in, little brother! Father asked me to pick you up today," Isamu said with a smile.
Satoru hesitated. His brother was likely here on their father's orders to interrogate him about school under the guise of family bonding.
But refusing the offer would seem churlish, so Satoru had no choice but to comply. He slid silently into the plush leather back seat, the school bag on his lap. Isamu pulled away from the curb, classic jazz playing softly on the surround sound stereo. "How was your day then, Satoru?" he asked casually.
"Uneventful," Satoru replied in a neutral tone. "Classes proceeded according to the expected curriculum."
Isamu chuckled. "Come now, really? No interesting gossip or developments? You always seem to know what's going on at school."
Satoru stayed silent, guarding up. His brother was fishing for something.
After a few more failed attempts at small talk, Isamu adopted a more serious tone.
"Satoru, you know Father worries about you. He says you've grown more distant and unpredictable lately. He asked me to check that the pressure isn't getting to you."
"Please assure Father I am coping adequately with my studies," Satoru said through gritted teeth. How like his father to pry and meddle without showing the slightest care for his actual mental state?
"Are you sure? No issues at all?" Isamu pressed. "You know you can talk to me, right? Unlike Father, I do understand you need to blow off steam sometimes. Why do you think I bought that fancy car and apartment despite barely starting my career? The rewards are meant to be enjoyed too."
Satoru stared straight ahead. "My issues are my own. I neither require nor desire your assistance."
Isamu sighed. "I hope you change your mind. This path you're on leads only to isolation and unhappiness. Take it from your big bro who wants the best for you."
They drove the rest of the way home in silence. When the car pulled up to their house, Satoru wordlessly gathered his things and went straight to his room without another glance at his brother.
He dropped his bag on the floor and collapsed into his desk chair, emotionally exhausted from the day's events.
He considered booting up Paradigm Online again to blow off some steam, but he knew his responsibilities came first.
He had mock exams to prepare for, and expectations to meet. People depend on his perfection. His own desires meant nothing.
With that bleak thought, Satoru turned to his textbooks and began reviewing meticulous notes. The complex formulas and familiar routines soothed his frayed nerves.
Here there were clear right and wrong answers. Not the messy unpredictability of family and social ties.
Hours passed in a blur until his mother called him down to dinner.
Satoru ate quickly and quietly as always, ignoring his family's conversations. Their voices melded into a dull static in his ears. Right now he was just trying to get through the day. He had to maintain control.
After helping clean up the dishes, Satoru went right back to studying. Late into the night, he reviewed, hammering the knowledge into his brain until his eyes burned.
At last, he could take no more, collapsing exhausted onto his bed well after midnight. As he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts lingered on the alluring freedom of Paradigm Online...
The next day proceeded much the same as the one before. Classes, dubious gossip, social evasion. Wash, rinse, repeat. Satoru floated through on autopilot, speaking only when required by etiquette. He felt hollowed out inside, like a flesh-covered robot simply executing his expected functions.
After classes ended, Satoru headed directly home, not bothering to snoop on his peers or ruminate philosophically.
He only wanted the numbing oblivion of study until it was late enough to justify bed. Maybe he could find meaning in his dreams.
Entering his room, Satoru was about to toss his bag aside and get started when he noticed an alert flashing on his VR console - a notification from Paradigm Online.
Intrigued, he walked over and donned the haptic gloves and goggles. Selecting the alert opened a message board:
"After 6 years of inactivity, Paradigm Online will be updated with a new grand update in one month. The game will have some small updates to fix problems. Thank you to all our dedicated players who stuck with us for so long. We will be back soon The new start will begin soon"
Satoru's breath caught in his throat as he read the update announcement again. After 6 long years, new life for Paradigm Online? This virtual world that had become his solitary refuge, completely reinvented?
Part of him refused to believe it. He'd been burned before when whispers of a revival proved false. The developers had long since abandoned Paradigm, leaving it to rot. Why would they care now?
Yet...the posting looked legitimate. The user name matched the original Paradigm admin account "World54" dormant for over a decade. Hope and doubt warred within Satoru. If this was real, everything could change.
Walking around in his room, Satoru's mind raced. What would a "grand update" entail? New zones and environments? Reworked skills, classes, and gameplay loops? He imagined shimmering cities, terrifying dungeons, exotic lands – an entire virtual world rebuilt and revitalized.
A pang of apprehension tempered Satoru's excitement. Paradigm's lawless chaos was integral to its appeal. The anonymity and unrestricted freedom fueled his bloodlust, letting his shadow run wild.
If they "civilized" Paradigm into just another polished VR experience, its dark heart would be lost however the veteran players would persist, ensuring that the chaos endures.
Satoru shook his head sharply. He was getting ahead of himself. Best not to speculate before details are revealed. This could be an elaborate prank meant to toy with veterans' hopes.
Still, the implications were staggering if real. An estranged world comes back to life. Satoru dared not dream, just in case.
Donning his VR set, Satoru logged into Paradigm to search for clues. The grinding hum of the server farm providing the Processing power surrounded him – still active, though dangerously overloaded.
[The client downloaded: no patch or changes yet..] He breathed deep, steadying his nerves.
After looking at his avatar's fearsome appearance, Satoru spawned into the central square of the Dark City, Paradigm's lawless hub. Derelict buildings loomed, rubble and trash strewn about the streets. Only the most dangerous and ruthless players still lingered here.
"Home sweet home."
Several veterans were gathered near the lifeless fountain, heatedly discussing the update rumors. Satoru approached, his silhouette shadow towering over them. "Tell me everything." he rumbled. "Omit no details."
One of the players by the name of [Emperor] looked at Dante with a smile.
Emperor was one of the most famous hackers in Paradigm a player older than Satoru yet not as strong because he was only playing for fun.
Some players walked away nervously as they were scared of Dante but some stayed still just like emperor.
With a smile, he said "I recounted the sparse bits of intel dug up so far – emails alluding to 'big plans' server equipment transfers. Nothing definitive yet, but together it painted a compelling picture. This could really be happening."
One player Rc with a massive battleaxe, sneered. "Who cares? They'll just gut Paradigm, and make it all bright and happy. I like the grime and grit." He spit for emphasis.
Even when Rc was only the 52th ranked player, he was the leader of one of the biggest groups in the whole of Paradigm [Dark star]
Murmurs of assent rose from the crowd. Paradigm losing its edge was the biggest concern. Satoru nodded gravely. "We must be vigilant. But pessimism serves no one. There could be an opportunity here."
"Tch don't worry, me and my clan will take care of it and can keep your emo playing," He said while laughing as he walked away.
Emperor looked at Dante still smiling "As I said this will be interesting" Then he logged out.
The crowd dispersed, but one figure remained behind – a slender rogue clad in black leather armor. Her black hair was styled in a short hair cut, with one claw mark scar across her left cheek. She'd been present the whole time, silent and still as a shadow.
"You seem less troubled than the others," Satoru remarked. "What do you think this update signifies?"
The rogue tilted her head curiously. "Change comes, whether we like it or not. Best be adaptable." Her voice was muted but razor-sharp. "The reckless and rigid will be broken. Only the flexible remain unbroken."
Satoru observed a hint in her demeanor, suggesting her attempt to exude air to look cool. then he chuckled. "Bold words. What's your name, philosopher?"
"Scar" she said simply. Before Satoru could respond, Scar vanished into smoke.
'Isn't that the name of the character everyone is talking about in my school?" He thought to himself.
Over subsequent days, Satoru strengthened his forces, preparing for Paradigm's transformation. He stockpiled rare artifacts and leveled up all of his equipment. All the while, the update's effects remained unknown.
He occasionally spotted Scar exploring the city's forgotten corners alone. They exchanged nods but no words. He noted her liquid grace and economy of movement. If conflicts arose, she could tip many scales.
Meanwhile, the Emperor had been sharing his level-up achievements on the game forums, to annoy the people who hate him.
On the other hand, RC appeared to be making a plan to transform his clan into a formidable PK group, intent on preserving the game's original essence.
Satoru also began spending more time observing Paradigm's admin [World54] page for any updates.
Strange anomalies and corruption were spreading. He couldn't pinpoint the cause, but a feeling of foreboding settled upon him. Change was coming, in ways beyond any update.
Paradigm became trending for a while because of the news update, it was a classic after all.
At school, Satoru went through the motions, focusing on his studies and keeping his play while the ground shook underfoot only he could feel. Most students seemed oblivious to his distracted state, though a few eyed him curiously as if sensing unseen forces swirling about him.
Satoru remained civil to his family but withdrew further into himself. They wouldn't understand his connection to Paradigm or the significance of its metamorphosis.
His thoughts revolved solely around analyzing the update and preparing for any outcome. He scarcely ate or slept, spending every free moment online.
One week after the announcement, Satoru returned from school to find the Paradigm client finally patching after 13 years.
Heart thudding, he donned his VR gear and logged in. The download took ages, long enough for doubts to creep back in. This was it...the moment of revelation.
The patch was completed and the world loaded around him. Satoru gasped. The Dark City was completely transformed – cleaner and sleeker, looking like any other RPG village.
All the dead NPCS were back about and vendors hawked wares, but PvP and free anarchy seemed intact. Satoru sighed in relief. Not gutted yet, anyhow.
Reading through the patch notes, Satoru saw an overworld map which was something the game never had, and some old dungeons were updated to make them more difficult.
The game feels faster as well it seems this was a [quality of life update] so far.
He also noticed some new players joining it seems like the game is starting to gain huge traction.
Other players began appearing, equally stunned. General chat exploded – some with joy, others bemoaning the changes. Even if it was that the main village was fixed or some small changes people had mixed feelings about it, it was the first update in 6 years.
Rc and his clan were smashing windows and killing NPCs as they screamed nothing new.
Satoru opened his Status menu for the first time since the update
[
Character Name: Dante
Level: 478
Class: Spellsword
Health: 31070/31070
Mana: 24000/24000(Max)
Experience: 12,480/105,000
Attributes:
Strength: 619 Dexterity: 100 Intelligence: 110 Vitality: 120 Agility: 302 Wisdom: 98
Luck: 85
Equipment:
Weapon: Mystic zweihander (+20% Spell Damage, +10 Strength)Armor: Robotic suit(+15% Mana Regeneration, +5 Intelligence)Accessory 1: Ring of the Elements (+10% Elemental Resistance, +5 Intelligence)Accessory 2: Amulet of Vitality (+20 Max Health, +10 Vitality)
Skills:
Flamestrike (Level 214) - Deals 150% weapon damage as fire damage to a single target.Arcane Shield (Level 102) - Creates a protective barrier that absorbs 300 damage.Healing Wave (Level 40) - Restores 200 health to the caster or an ally.Teleport - Instantly teleport to a nearby location....
Quests:
Main Quest: "Defeat the world ender" (Complete 95 times)Side Quest: "Helping the Lost Traveler" (Completed)Side Quest: "Gathering Rare Herbs" (Completed)...
Inventory:
Health Potions (x732)Mana Potions (x321)Elixir of Wisdom (x45)Gold Coins: 1,159,532,350...
Guild: Non.
Status: Finished everything.]
Then he started to navigate the now unfamiliar streets...