Dante, for the first time, felt good.
[Level 3]
[3 Summon Slots]
[30/30 Max Mana].
And he had a bag of silver.
He already beaten the tutorial dungeon and his bonus loot.
His party was geared. And he was buffed.
But the problem is…
His [Map] was a tiny circle containing Oakhaven, surrounded by an ocean of blank.
Dante's eye twitched.
He was a gamer.
A 99.9% undiscovered map, an empty lore codex...
'This is unacceptable.'
Sure he had won, but he still know nothing. And he hated know nothing.
This [System].
Was it just him? Or were there other "Creators"?
And this world.
What was it? What were the rules?
What was that Hobgoblin? What was the "magic" that had made its club glow?
What was the King's name? What was the kingdom?
He was a "Manager." And a manager could not work without market research.
'I need intel.'
He stood up. Hana looked up from her sewing.
"Good morning, Creator. Did you rest well?"
"I did," Dante said, his voice crisp. "But we're leaving."
He left the party at the inn. This was a "business" meeting.
He approached Reeve Murdoch.
Murdoch was in his hall, looking over a ledger. He looked up as Dante entered.
He looked... relieved to see him. And also terrified.
"Lord... Mage," Murdoch stammered, standing up.
"Reeve. We're leaving Oakhaven."
Murdoch's relief was palpable. "Oh? So soon? It's a pity, but... understandable. Your talents... are..."
"We're not mercenaries," Dante cut him off.
He needed to control this conversation.
"I have a question, Reeve. I need a library. A Mage's Guild. The biggest one. Where is it?"
The Reeve was stunned by the question.
"The... biggest? Sir, you'd mean the King's Library. In the capital Aethelburg."
"Aethelburg," Dante repeated.
The name felt good.
"It's... the center of the world," Murdoch said, his awe clear.
"It has the Mage's Spire, The Great Temple of the Justicar, The Adventurer's Guild... everything. It's a week's travel east. On the King's Road."
He paused.
"But Sir… Aethelburg... it's not like Oakhaven. It's a city of high walls and high laws. There are rules. Especially for... your kind."
He meant 'mages'.
But Dante did not care.
A library. A Mage's Guild. A lore hub.
His mind was made up.
[Self-Imposed Quest: Reach Aethelburg].
[Objective: Acquire Intel].
***
The King's Road was a generous term for a muddy wagon track that cut through the endless forest.
But at least it was a road.
Dante had spent his new silver well.
He'd bought a sturdy two-wheeled cart and a grumpy mule.
The mule had been grumpy for exactly five seconds.
But the moment Hana had touched its muzzle, her [Taming (Adept)] skill had activated.
Its ears had perked. And its "grumpy" [Status] had been replaced by [Status: Tamed].
It was now, apparently, the happiest mule in the world, and would pull their cart to the ends of the earth.
The party's new dynamic was... stable.
Hana, the party's core, sat on the driver's bench, calmly holding the reins with one hand. With the other, she was [Crafting]... something.
She was weaving a sturdy leather waterskin from the Hobgoblin's Good Quality hide.
The [Gourmet Meal] buff was active. She already made a traveling stew before they'd left, and the warm smell was a comforting presence.
Shivvy sat next to her.
She was the "lookout."
She was in her new green-and-brown outfit. She wasn't hiding. But watching.
Her new boots were planted firmly on the floorboards.
Her eyes were sharp.
"Creator… a broken branch. On the road."
(An ambush spot? Dante had checked. It was clear.)
"Creator... strange tracks. Big. Like a... bird?"
(Hana had identified them. Wild Turkey.)
She was learning. And working.
But…
Rin-Rin was a problem.
She was in the back of the cart, pouting under her "mysterious" blue cloak.
"Producer-sama! This road is bumpy!" her muffled voice complained.
"It's ruining my creative process! How can I compose my new single with all this... jiggling?"
Dante walked beside the cart.
He was in his new clothes. And he had his [3/3] slots active.
They traveled for two days.
The forest was big. And the road was empty.
On the third day, they came around a wide muddy bend.
Another party was on the road.
They were heading toward Oakhaven.
Dante's brain clicked. So he analyzed them.
And his stomach dropped.
They were a real Adventurer party.
The man in the lead was a Knight.
Not just a guard. A Knight. He was encased in steel plate armor, so bright it gleamed in the noon sun.
A blue-and-white tabard, clean and crisp, hung over his chest, bearing the symbol of a silver sword.
A real longsword was at his hip. He was tall, blonde, and radiated a kind of "Lawful Good" arrogance that Dante recognized instantly.
This was a "main character" type.
Behind him, an Archer. A tall woman in dark-green leather armor, a massive longbow on her back. Her eyes were keen as she was scanning the forest.
And beside her... a Priest.
A young man in white-and-gold robes, a silver holy-symbol of the Justicar around his neck.
He looked... pure.
And they looked proper. They were a real party.
Dante looked at his own party.
A farmer (Hana). A small and quiet girl in hand-me-downs (Shivvy). A mysterious and grumpy lump in the back of a mule-cart (Rin-Rin). And him... a guy in new, but very plain clothes.
They looked like refugees.
The Knight held up a gauntleted hand.
A "stop" gesture.
"Halt," his voice boomed. It sounds like a command.
Dante gestured for Hana to stop the cart.
She did, and the mule stopping instantly.
The Knight's party approached.
The Knight looked them over, his blue-eyed gaze raking across their cart, assessing.
His gaze softened, but only into a kind of deep pity.
"Easy there, good-folk," he said, his voice now softened, but still booming.
"Are you... fleeing the Goblin raids? We are on our way to Oakhaven to handle the situation."
He was here to do the quest Dante had already finished!
Dante felt a flash of annoyance.
"We're just travelers," he said, his voice flat. "Oakhaven is fine now. The Goblins are already gone."
The Knight scoffed. A small, arrogant sound.
"Gone? My good man, we had a report of a Hobgoblin Lieutenant. A Level 12 threat. You can't just shoo away a Hobgoblin."
He clearly thought Dante was a liar.
"Do not worry," the Knight said, puffing his chest out. "We are the Swords of Dawn. The Guild has—"
"Sir..."
The voice was new. Quiet. And strained.
It was the Priest. Alistair.
He had been silent.
But now, he was pale. And sweating. A lot.
His hand was not on his mace.
It was clamped to the holy symbol at his neck.
He was not looking at Dante. He was staring at the cart.
At the lump.
The lump under the blue cloak.
"Sir Knight..." the Priest whispered, his voice shaking. He took a half-step back.
The Knight, annoyed at the interruption, turned.
"What is it, Alistair? Can't you see I'm...?"
"The... the cart..." the Priest stammered. "The... the woman. In the cart. Her."
He raised a trembling, accusing finger.
Rin-Rin, sensing drama, poked her head out of the cloak. Her face was still a pout.
"Ehhhh? A new fan? And he's rude!"
The Priest saw her.
And he recoiled. He let out a small, terrified gasp.
"Alistair! What is it!" the Knight demanded, his hand now on his sword.
The Priest was as pale as his robes.
"Sir... my 'Sight'... it... it's burning."
His eyes were locked on Rin-Rin's face.
"That's... that's not a person," the Priest hissed, his voice full of a sudden, divine terror.
"She... she's brimming with a chaotic Fae-magic! It's... it's a demon! A Siren! Stay back!"
The Knight, hearing "demon," changed.
SHING.
His longsword sang as it cleared the scabbard, the steel was impossibly bright.
"WITCH!" he roared.
He leveled the point of his blade, not at Rin-Rin, but at Dante.
"Show yourself! Release these people! Or, by the Justicar's light, I will purge you all!"
Dante, confident a second ago, was now facing a high-level "Hero" party.
And they thought his "DPS"... was the actual "Main Boss."
"Oh," Dante said, his blood running cold. "Oh, crap."