The capital had a deceptive tranquility to it—a kind of serene orderliness that belied the dangers lurking just beyond the city's walls. Clean streets, freshly swept, stretched out before me as I made my way to the blacksmith's shop. Tall, stone buildings loomed like silent sentinels, watching me with a detached indifference. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, even though the streets were filled with nothing but merchants peddling their wares, children laughing, and the occasional guard in polished armor.
I pushed the thought aside as I approached the shop. The familiar scent of hot iron and coal smoke hit me before I even saw the sign above the door—a battered metal plate depicting a hammer and anvil. The blacksmith was already at the forge, his muscled arms glistening with sweat as he pounded a glowing ingot into shape. As I stepped through the doorway, his gaze snapped up, and a wide grin spread across his soot-covered face.
"Hello there! What can I—wait… you're that guy everyone's been talking about!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening in recognition.
What?
"Uh, excuse me?" I forced a smile, but my mind was racing. How did he know? Was my presence here already causing a stir?
"You're the level 189 adventurer!" he said with enthusiasm, leaning over the counter.
The rumors had spread faster than I expected. Damn it.
I winced inwardly. "N-no, you must have the wrong guy," I said, attempting a laugh that came out more nervous than I intended.
He shook his head, undeterred. "Golden hair, eyes like twin embers—there's no mistaking it."
My shoulders sagged. "Alright, you got me," I said, dropping the act. "But keep it quiet, will you?"
The blacksmith's grin only widened. "Aye, no need to worry about that. What can I do for you?"
I leaned in, lowering my voice to a whisper. "I want an emperor-class armor. Top-tier."
His eyes flickered with surprise before he gave a slow nod. "Ah, you know the password then," he said, wiping his hands on a stained cloth. "It'll take me about two hours to craft it to your specifications."
"Two hours?" I echoed, genuinely surprised. In the games I used to play, armor of that caliber took weeks to craft—here, things worked differently. "Impressive."
He chuckled, returning to his forge. "You won't be disappointed. Come back in two hours."
I left the shop with a quick nod, eager to explore more of the city while I waited. The streets were crowded now, bustling with life, and I couldn't help but feel eyes on me wherever I went. A group of girls at a nearby café giggled and whispered as I passed. I tugged the hood of my cloak lower, feeling a familiar unease rise in my chest.
Why did it always feel like they saw more of me than I wanted to show?
The hours slipped by as I wandered aimlessly, losing myself in the maze of streets and alleys. When I remembered the quest the Guildmaster had given me, my heart skipped a beat. I made a beeline for the guild hall, trying not to look like I was in a rush.
"Where's the Guildmaster?" I asked calmly at the front desk, ignoring the admiring glances from the girl behind the counter.
"H-he's upstairs!" she replied, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she watched me. "H-he talked to me!" I I I hurried away before she could say anything else, feeling a strange mix of irritation and embarrassment.
Upstairs, the Guildmaster sat behind a desk piled with scrolls and maps, a broad smile spreading across his weathered face as he saw me. "Yo," I greeted, feeling the tension ease just a bit.
"Had fun exploring the city?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.
"Yeah," I said, forcing a casual tone. "It's bigger than I expected."
He chuckled. "It can be overwhelming. Now, about that quest…"
"The Black Moon Mercenaries, right?" I interrupted. "They're the target?"
The Guildmaster's expression darkened. "They've been causing trouble for years—kidnapping, extorting, disrupting trade routes. And worse. We've had no luck bringing them down."
"Do you really think I'm the right person for this?" I asked, feeling a twinge of doubt. "There's no one else?"
He studied me for a moment, then shook his head. "You don't get it, do you? You've broken the limits of what we thought was possible. The highest level anyone has reached here is 78—and you're way beyond that."
Seventy-eight?! If I were to unleash all my power now, what would my level look like? Twelve thousand? Twenty?
A cold shiver ran down my spine. It wasn't just about numbers—power like mine came with expectations, with eyes that never looked away.
I sighed, the weight settling on my shoulders. "Alright," I said, my voice steady. "What's the reward?"
"123,000 gold Dilons," he replied without hesitation.
I whistled softly. "That's enough for a whole mansion!," I muttered. "Why so much for a single quest?"
"They've been a plague for a decade," he said, his tone somber. "Torture, kidnapping, rape… all manner of crimes."
At the mention of that word, my blood ran cold, and a fury I hadn't felt in years ignited inside me. Memories I'd tried to bury clawed their way to the surface—my mother's screams, my sister's tears. They had died because of men like these. I wouldn't let it happen again.
I fucking hate people like these.
"I'll do it," I said, my voice hard as steel. "Just tell me what I need to do."
"Tonight, gather information. Tomorrow, observe their movements. By afternoon, wipe them out and rescue the prisoners," the Guildmaster instructed. "Simple, but dangerous."
"Got it," I said, turning to leave. "Oh, one more thing," I added, pausing at the door. "What's your name?"
"Daniel Flügensbúrg," he said with a nod. "Good luck, Flynn."
I returned the nod and left without another word, a sense of purpose settling over me like a cloak. The sun was setting as I made my way back to the blacksmith's shop, and the sky burned with a vibrant red, casting long shadows across the cobblestones.
". . ."
The smith greeted me with a triumphant grin as I entered. "It's ready," he said, holding out a small, black cube—the armor, compressed with a magic seal.
I took it, feeling the weight of the enchantments thrumming in my palm. With a surge of mana, I activated it, and the armor unfolded around me in a rush of light and shadow. Black metal, etched with gold, wrapped around my frame like a second skin. The helmet was a dragon's visage, its eyes glowing with the same crimson and gold as my own. The air hummed with power, and I could feel my aura swelling, amplified by the armor's enchantments.
The blacksmith's face paled. "W-what are you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
I compressed the armor again, slipping the cube into my pocket. "Just someone with a job to do," I said. "Keep this between us, alright?"
He nodded frantically, eyes wide with fear and awe. I left him there, my thoughts already turning to the task ahead.
". . ."
It was midnight. The tavern was dimly lit, a haze of smoke swirling above the tables where men and women sat nursing drinks. It was past midnight, and the streets outside were eerily silent. I slipped inside, the heavy cloak hiding the armor beneath. Eyes turned my way, suspicion flickering in the dim light, but I paid them no mind.
"One cup of Slyva ale," I said to the bartender, my voice low and cold. He glanced at me, unimpressed, and poured a glass from a dusty barrel.
Then I leaned in close. "The Black Moon Merc group," I whispered, letting a sliver of my true aura bleed into my words. "You're one of them, aren't you?"
His eyes widened, his face going white. I saw his hand twitch, reaching for something under the bar, but I was faster. My hand shot out, grabbing his wrist, and I pressed a dagger to his throat.
"Answer quietly," I said. "And don't make a scene."
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. "Y-yes... but I was forced! They'll kill me if I don't comply!"
I was about to press him for more when the door slammed open behind me. Three men swaggered in, dressed in the ragged garb of mercenaries, their eyes gleaming with cruel delight. They dragged a young girl behind them, her face bruised and streaked with tears.
"Oi!" one of them shouted, tossing a handful of silver coins on the floor. "Pick it up!" He kicked the girl in the side, sending her sprawling, and the others laughed.
Something in me snapped.
I threw off my cloak, revealing the full glory of my God-class armor. The room fell silent, the laughter dying on their lips as my aura surged outward—a crushing wave of power that made the very air tremble. The ground quaked beneath me, glasses shattering on the tables as I stared down the mercenaries.
"What... what the hell are you?" one of them stammered, his face draining of color.
I didn't answer. Instead, I raised my hand, a blade of pure, dark energy forming in my grasp. It was my signature weapon—the Destroyer's Blade or I had called it— Alvrjön, forged from my very soul. My voice was calm, almost disinterested as I spoke.
"Reality Erase."
The blade cut through the air, and the room shattered around us. The bar, the tables, the mercenaries themselves—everything vanished in a burst of crimson light, erased from existence as if it had never been. I stood alone in the empty space, my breathing slow and steady.
The girl stared up at me, her eyes wide with awe and fear. I reached down, helping her to her feet. "You're safe now," I said softly, my voice gentler than before. "Spread the word—tell them the Red Destroyer is coming."
She nodded quickly, backing away before sprinting out the door.
I stood there a moment longer, feeling the echo of the power I had unleashed. I was more than ready for what lay ahead. Tomorrow, the Black Moon's darkness would be snuffed out, and they would know the terror of facing a power far beyond their understanding.
The time for hiding was over.