Chapter 9

Chapter 9
## Chapter 9: The Pantheon of Legends

Because of the influence of two celestial entities, the reward selection was boosted by two tiers.

Among the ten possibilities presented, not a single one was worth overlooking.

‘They handed over a top-tier raid set as if it were pocket change. Is this where I finish the Michella collection?’

The Michella armor was legendary among early-game gear for its efficiency, but its rarity was equally notorious. Very few individuals managed to gather all three components. Yet, here it was, offered as a primary quest bounty—a prize that usually demanded months of grueling slaughter and perfect luck.

‘…Every single one of these is a unique drop from a high-level boss.’

Despite the allure, he paused. He wasn’t some wide-eyed amateur; he was a seasoned veteran of Pangeniar. He understood that the other eight items held utility that rivaled, or even surpassed, the Michella set’s raw stats. In the opening year of this world, most would reflexively grab the armor.

But he saw deeper.

‘The Guardian Amulet. It creates a sanctuary in the wild where predators can’t reach you.’

In this reality, failing to find a secure location before logging out was a death sentence. As players pushed into uncharted territory, established “safe zones” became nearly nonexistent. Artifacts like the Amulet weren’t just luxuries for sleep; they were vital for recovering during intense hunts. Its only flaw was its fragility.

‘It has a set number of charges.’

Once those activations were spent, the treasure crumbled. Their scarcity turned them into a strategic resource that had to be rationed with extreme discipline.

‘The Sea Gill is a non-negotiable for aquatic exploration.’

The depths held countless secrets, most gated behind level seven requirements. Trying to find a Sea Gill later in the game was a nightmare that made players weep with frustration. Securing one now was the ultimate long-term investment.

He looked over the [Great Enemy’s Anvil] and dismissed it; his innate Dexterity made him a natural crafter, but he wasn’t planning on a life at the forge. The [Red Knight’s Banner] and the [Red Horse] were also passed over. The banner offered a hollow nobility tied to a kingdom’s whims, and he already possessed the Hydragon’s Soul as a superior mount.

[Palam’s Armor], [Fairy Queen’s Tear], [Shadow Cloak]… His gaze finally locked onto the latter.

‘Shadow Cloak.’

A garment that merged the wearer with the darkness. It granted permanent concealment. As long as the fabric remained intact, the effect was eternal—an absolute game-breaker. While master-level scouts or specialized detection gear might pierce the veil, those were rare encounters. Furthermore, its utility in the physical world was unparalleled. The childhood fantasy of being unseen was now within his grasp.

[You have chosen the ‘Shadow Cloak.’]

[One reward selection remaining.]

He locked in the cloak without a second thought. Now, for the final piece of the puzzle. He rubbed his jaw, his eyes scanning the remaining treasures with a predatory focus. Which choice would cement his reputation as a genius if the world ever learned of this haul?

—

The fabric of reality was fraying. The world felt as though it were being ground into dust, leaving the observer unable to distinguish between a nightmare and waking life. For Dramat, the world as he knew it was ending.

The serpent watched the human in a paralyzed state of disbelief. He had been certain the man would be incinerated the moment he touched the 【Star】. Instead, the intruder had strolled forward with casual indifference and claimed the celestial object as if reclaiming a lost toy.

‘A delusion. This cannot be happening.’

Dramat tried to retreat into denial. This was surely a psychic trick, a veil pulled over his eyes. He had slumbered for eons; perhaps his mind was failing, or he had accidentally consumed a toxic fungus. He forced his internal systems to accelerate, attempting to flush out any perceived venom and snap back to the truth.

He squeezed his eyes shut and threw them open.

*Whoosh!*

A brilliant torrent of astral energy washed over the chamber.

‘This is madness.’

The “poison” must be more potent than he imagined. How else could the 【Star】 have chosen this insignificant creature? Its previous master had been Wilhelm—a titan among men, a paragon of power that Dramat had been honored to follow. The power gap between Wilhelm and any other living thing had been an ocean. Dramat had bowed to that strength instantly.

But this new figure?

‘He possesses less raw force than the stone sentry at the gates. I am to serve *this*?’

The man lacked any aura of transcendence. He wasn’t just unprepared; he was fundamentally weaker than the local wildlife at the foot of the peaks. The disparity was so vast it was insulting. Dramat had laughed when the challenge began, waiting for the fire to consume the fool.

Then, the human spoke.

“Dramat, get on your knees.”

「……」

“Ah, I forgot. You’re a serpent. No legs.”

The creature bristled. This insolent whelp was using the exact same phrasing Wilhelm had used upon his ascension. Even the mocking comment about his physiology was a perfect echo.

“Is your head not a bit high for a servant meeting his superior?”

*Ssssss.*

Despair and fury fought within the serpent, but his instincts betrayed him. Despite every ounce of his will screaming to strike, Dramat felt his snout forced toward the floor. His massive frame coiled and lowered until his eyes were level with the man’s boots.

It was an ontological shackle. He could not disobey. This human was, by every mystical law, the true sovereign of the 【Star】.

“Good.”

*Tap. Tap.*

The man reached out and patted the serpent’s scales with a smirk. The Old King, the legendary protector of the heavens, was being handled like a common hound.

“I am Randolph. I expect much from you, Old King Dramat.”

「……」

“What, lost your tongue?”

「……」

“Very well. Prove your worth then. We begin by charting the sacred territory.”

Dramat clung to the hope that this was a fever dream, but the true nightmare was only just beginning.

—

Isabella’s chest heaved, her heart hammering against her ribs. She couldn’t tell if the celestial energy or the man’s sudden transformation was more terrifying. She was wound tight, vibrating with a tension she had never felt before.

“Isabella.”

“…I am here.”

She found herself speaking with an instinctive, formal reverence. The moment he seized the star, he had ceased to be a simple “Awakener.” He had become an avatar of the divine. She was no longer standing before a comrade or a client; she was standing before a god.

Even as the second-in-command of Paysalmer and a beloved princess of the sands, she felt like a grain of sand caught in a gale. Her previous confidence was gone, replaced by the crushing weight of his presence. To treat him as an equal now would be an act of spiritual suicide.

“What is your desire once your shackles are broken?”

“To leave this wasteland…”

“And then?”

“…I wish to rediscover my lineage.”

“The house of Dersian, correct?”

Her breath hitched. He saw through her entirely. Isabella von Dersian was a name hidden from the world, a noble identity from the distant continent. She had only learned the truth from the Queen—the same woman who had cursed her and demanded her servitude in exchange for a freedom that never came.

The Queen had lied. But this man knew things he shouldn’t. Even with the star’s power, such specific personal secrets should have been veiled.

“I will give you my favor, but it comes at a price.”

“A price…?”

“Swear your service to me for one year. In return, I will break your chains and restore your heritage.”

“Ah…”

“Do you doubt my word?”

Isabella shook her head frantically. The man smiled—a cold, bright expression.

“I am not like the Queen. My words are iron.”

A single year of service for her life back. Even if it were a gamble, it was the only one worth taking to flee the desert.

“I accept. My life is yours.”

—

[1st: Randolph — 230 points]

[2nd: Gracia — 198 points]

[3rd: MintChocoDelicious — 190 points]

[4th: Black Night — 166 points]

[5th: Master — 160 points]

…

*Cough!*

The player known as Massacre spat in disgust as the notifications flooded his vision.

“What the hell is this?”

His heartbeat quickened with rage. The Secret Auction House was a perk reserved for the elite tier of the second main quest. Having his access stripped was a massive blow to his progression. He was a high-tier player, but his standard class had kept him at the bottom of the rankings—and now, he had been bumped off the board entirely.

However, his frustration turned to shock as he looked closer.

“Randolph… 230?”

He squinted, certain the numbers were glitching. He had dominated the first quest with 220, and now he had eclipsed that. 230 points? What kind of insane class did he find? He knew Gracia had attained the ‘Sword Saint’ rank, a legendary tier, and even she only hit 198.

“Could Randolph be Phantom?”

It was the only logical conclusion. Only a man like Phantom, who knew the inner workings of the world’s code, could outperform a Sword Saint. His original character had been wiped, and now he was back, rewriting the record books.

‘I’ll kill him. He has to die.’

Massacre’s teeth ground together. Regardless of how powerful his class was, Randolph would be at his most vulnerable right now. He needed to hunt him down, whether in the digital realm or the physical one.

‘But first, I need my spot back.’

He took a jagged breath and forced himself to focus. Reclaiming his ranking was simple enough. He just had to find someone listed above him and remove them from the equation.