[Insight]
[Heightens the ability to detect, interpret, and predict subtle changes in the environment, enemy behavior, or hidden truths. This includes illusions, disguises, ambushes, and unspoken intentions.
▪︎ Higher values increase effectiveness.
▪︎ Stat Points cannot be manually allocated.]
[Juggernaut]
[Diminishes the probability of succumbing to instant-death attacks, particularly those involving beheading or heart-piercing injuries.
▪︎ Higher values increase effectiveness.
▪︎ Stat Points cannot be manually allocated.]
[Dawnheart Bracelet]
[Rating: Unique
Durability: 12/12.4 | Magical Defense: +12.2% | Magical & Physical Balance: +13.6%
A sturdy bracelet adorned with a polished carnelian gemstone, its surface swirling with fiery hues. The metalwork is infused with enchanted veins, radiating a faint warmth that intensifies when magic is cast.
▪︎ Str +6
▪︎ Fire Resistance +30%
▪︎ Evasion Rate +25%
▪︎ If health falls below 10%, a shield will be generated for 5 seconds that will absorb 3,000 damage.
Conditions of Use: Lvl 48+]
[Calamity Bringer]
[Rank: Unique
A title earned by warriors who have brought catastrophe upon colossal threats, dealing over one million damage to a Field Boss. Wherever they go, the ruin of evil follows.
Title Effect:
▪︎ Str +50
▪︎ Melee Attack Power +250
▪︎ Increases Critical Hit Rate by 20%
▪︎ Increases damage dealt to boss monsters by 15%]
Daisuke took a moment to inspect the new Special Stats, accessory, and title he had acquired over the course of slaying the last two Field Bosses and clearing the recent dungeon.
Just as he navigated to Equipment and was about to sort by Weapons to take stock of those he had yet to appraise—
GRRRRRL…
A low, pitiful rumble broke through the bustle of activity around them.
CLIP-CLOP. CLIP-CLOP. CLIP-.
He slowed his stride beside the horse, which plodded along patiently with the bound and unconscious Father Alvian slumped in a sack over its back.
Daisuke's butterscotch gaze swept behind him, falling upon the five barefoot children trailing quietly in his wake.
One of the twin boys winced, clutching his stomach as if to silence the sound himself. But it wasn't embarrassment written on his small face—it was fear. Deep, practiced fear.
The other children stiffened. No one met his gaze. They looked guilty… as if hunger was something to be ashamed of.
Daisuke's brows dipped slightly. "Are you guys hungry?"
The children immediately shook their heads.
"N-No, mistress," the eldest boy murmured. "Please don't mind us. We… we're completely fine."
"I-I'm sorry you had to hear such an unpleasant sound," the other twin began. "Please spare my brother."
"We don't deserve food, not from someone like you," whispered the little girl, eyes cast to the ground as she gripped the hem of her ragged dress.
The twin who had clutched his belly now stood rigid, fists clenched tightly at his sides, his small body tense with the sheer will to endure. Silent tears welled in the eyes of the youngest girl, but even those were blinked away quickly, as if crying too was a punishable offense.
Then, without a word, the second twin reached into his tunic and pulled out something small—half of a cracked, dark biscuit that was round and hardened like stone. He held it out, hesitating for a second before gently offering it to his brother.
"This'll help quiet the hunger," he said softly as though he were passing on treasure.
The boy blinked at the gesture, surprised, then bowed his head and accepted the piece with both hands. He took a bite. There was no change in his expression as he chewed.
Daisuke narrowed his eyes. "What is that?"
The children fell silent.
A long moment passed. Then, the eldest boy stepped forward and answered in a careful, even voice. "It's a mud biscuit, mistress. Just baked mud. It… it fills the belly."
He said it like it was normal. Like that was what children were meant to eat when their circumstances became dire.
Daisuke's heart dropped.
Without a word, he snatched the unsanitary and unnutritious abomination from the boy's hand and crushed it beneath his heel.
The children flinched in unison. But instead of rebuking their savior, they bowed their heads and apologized profusely for daring to eat in her presence.
"I-I'm sorry," the twin who offered it stammered. "I didn't mean to—"
"P-Please forgive us!" the eldest exclaimed.
The little girl trembled. Her eyes brimmed, but the tears didn't fall. She wouldn't let them. Neither would the other girl who clutched her tightly and buried her face in the folds of her dress.
Daisuke dropped to one knee.
They stiffened instantly—preparing, it seemed, for punishment. But he only extended his palm. In it lay five glossy, marble-like candies.
"Instead of that mud biscuit," he said warmly, "why don't you try these instead?"
The children froze.
Their eyes widened, darting between his face and the candy like they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
"We… we couldn't," the eldest whispered, a sense of unworthiness in his voice.
"M-Mistress… we can't possibly accept something so precious," another added, already stepping back in refusal.
With a straight face, Daisuke gave them no chance to protest further. One by one, he popped the sweets into their mouths and their reaction was instant. Their eyes lit up. Their hands flew to their cheeks, and they beamed with wide, innocent delight.
"It's so sweet!"
"I-I've never tasted anything like this!"
"It's… it's heaven…"
"So, what're your names?" Daisuke asked.
The children blinked and looked at one another. A few awkward seconds passed before the little girl with curly hair finally answered. "We're not… allowed to have names," she said.
They were still savoring their candy, small cheeks puffed out and glossy eyes shining with joy. Daisuke watched the way they hummed softly or giggled between smacks of their lips.
"Slaves aren't given names," added one of the twins.
Daisuke sighed mentally. Right. Of course not.
"So how did your master call on you?" He asked.
The eldest boy answered flatly, "He just pointed… and if we didn't move fast enough, we got hit."
Daisuke's jaw twitched. "And where's he now?"
The children exchanged looks again.
"He… he got grabbed by a monster when the dungeon exploded," one of the twins said in a small voice.
Daisuke's expression darkened as he wondered whether they were knowingly brought to the event as fodder for the monsters—or simply to be permitted to eat in abundance for once in their lives.
"He told us to stay back and not touch anything," the other twin added. "We thought maybe… we'd get food if we behaved."
The eldest boy's voice broke in. "He only brought us so he could eat for free."
Daisuke exhaled through his nose while watching them closely. "Well then," he said. "Since you don't have names… how about I give you some?"
The children froze, candy still in their mouths.
"I'll call you Lio," he said, pointing at one of the twins.
Then he turned to the other, "And you'll be Ryo."
The twins looked at one another, lips parting in surprise, then high-fived and grinned.
Daisuke turned to the eldest boy. "You… I think you look like a Theo."
The boy blinked several times before nodding.
"And you," he said to the curly-haired girl, "will be Mina."
She covered her mouth with both hands and blushed.
Then he looked at the older girl. "And you… I'll call you Alia."
There was a breathless pause.
All five children stood still, beaming in disbelief. But then, gradually, their smiles faltered. Their expressions shifted—hopeful, then hesitant, then worried.
"What's wrong?" Daisuke asked.
Theo stepped forward, his candy suddenly losing its flavor. "Mistress… why give us names if you're just going to sell us back to the slave traders?"
"That's what usually happens to us… after we're abandoned," Ryo added in a glum tone.
Daisuke looked at all of them, then gave a warm smile. "Don't worry, I have no intention of selling you off," he reassured. "I'm actually taking you to an orphanage. You'll be safe there. No more masters. No more dungeons. Just rest… and food."
The words sank in like sunlight warming cold skin. Alia's lips trembled. Ryo gripped Lio's sleeve. Mina sniffled. And then the tears came. Quiet, shivering sobs that none of them could contain anymore.
Daisuke smiled and ruffled their heads one by one. Then his gaze dropped to their tattered clothes and bare, bruised feet. "…Let's get you something new to wear first," he said. "And some real food to go with it."
"W-We're not worth that much," Lio whispered quickly.
"Mistress, we couldn't possibly—" Theo began, shaking his head.
Daisuke raised a brow. "That wasn't a suggestion. It's an order."
They instantly fell silent, blinking up at him with wide eyes before nodding.
***
A short while later, Daisuke stood before a storefront. A weathered wooden sign swayed gently in the breeze above him. He glanced up at it—Silvern Stitchwear. The door creaked open and a small bell chimed as they stepped inside.
"Welcome, welcome!" the shopkeeper called brightly from the counter. But then his eyes dropped to the children and the warmth drained from his face.
His lips tightened slightly at the sight of their dirtied skin and furred ears. It was clear they were demihumans—likely slaves. And if not, then from the slums, which wasn't much better either.
The man's sour expression instantly reminded Daisuke of his first humiliating visit to Harrington Threads. But the moment the clerk's eyes landed on Sophia—elegant, poised, and no longer clad in battle-worn leathers but in a crisp, long-sleeved blouse tucked neatly into high-waisted trousers—his demeanor shifted.
The man straightened, his face softening into a greedy smile as he rubbed his hands together. "Ah, my lady! Welcome, welcome. How may I serve you today?"
Coin over prejudice, as always, Daisuke mused.
A short time later, the children emerged from the back room dressed in clean, modest outfits. A dress, soft tunics, warm trousers, and snug shoes. Each child ran their hands down the fabric of their new clothes as if afraid it would vanish. They giggled and beamed, their faces glowing.
Daisuke watched them a moment before approaching the counter. He placed a pouch of coin on the desk, slipping in a few extra silvers. The shopkeeper blinked in surprise as the woman leaned closer, her voice velvety smooth.
"Thank you for your patience and understanding," Daisuke said with a wink.
The clerk's ears turned red as he stammered a reply, bowing awkwardly. Then, without another word, Daisuke turned, guiding the children back toward the street—where food and rest waited.