[Silvia: Are you free right now?]
Ren blinked at the sudden message. Silvia? That was unexpected. He had just seen her with Ragnar earlier that day.
He tilted his head, smiling faintly. Did they just finish lunch, head home, and log in the game together?
He stifled a laugh. Their personal affairs weren't any of his business anyway.
[Ren: Yes]
The reply came almost immediately.
[Silvia: Good. Do you want to clear Vulcan's Cave with us? I'll pay you for your services—as long as we clear it.]
Ren leaned back in his chair, thinking.
Vulcan's Cave.
That dungeon was notorious for its difficulty. It required ten players minimum with at least +25 STR for melee classes or +25 INT for magic users. The deeper you went, the hotter it became—literally.
He remembered that place vaguely from before his regression. It was huge, filled with forked tunnels and traps that punished unprepared players. Even he didn't know the entire layout; the map had been completed long before he became an information broker in his previous timeline.
Still, he knew one thing for sure: the final boss, Vulcan the Molten Titan, was no joke. If they weren't careful, the party's HP and MP would be drained before they even reached the boss's chamber.
A new message popped up.
[Silvia: I heard it's an excellent grinding spot! You can boost your ATP past +30 and finally enter towns.]
Ren smiled faintly. So she thinks I'm still stuck below +30, huh?
He could already enter towns thanks to his +76 INT, but there was no need to correct her.
[Ren: I'll join—but I want any equipment that suits my class. You can keep the money. If there's nothing useful for me, then pay 100,000 real money for clearing it and another 50,000 for First Blood.]
There was a brief pause before her next message appeared.
[Silvia: That much? For a low-level dungeon?]
Ren typed without hesitation.
[Ren: It's a massive cave with a powerful boss. It'll take at least a full day of mapping before we reach the end.]
[Silvia: A day?! You're exaggerating.]
[Ren: That's why it hasn't been cleared yet.]
A long moment of silence followed, and then—
[Silvia: Fair enough. Fine. As long as we get First Blood. I'm building a guild, and I need the fame and loot.]
Ren ignored the boast and went straight to business.
[Ren: Do you have a Healer and an Animist or Hunter?]
[Silvia: Yes. My friend's a Healer, and we have an Animist too.]
[Ren: Has your Healer unlocked the Cure spell?]
That was crucial. Cure nullified all status effects, including [Burn], which the cave inflicted constantly. Without it, they'd be cooked alive before even reaching Vulcan.
The rewards, however, were worth it—especially the [Flame] spell dropped by the final boss. It was an upgraded version of [Fire], dealing AoE damage, and could eventually evolve into [Inferno]. Perfect for any aspiring mage.
Ren wasn't a Fire Mage, so he couldn't evolve his [Fire] naturally—but if he acquired [Flame] through this dungeon, he'd finally have a stronger replacement spell.
[Silvia: Yes. Her Heal is LV.3, and Cure is LV.2.]
Not bad. Ren nodded to himself. That must be Pamela, Silvia's pink-haired right-hand woman. She was reliable—at least in the last timeline.
[Ren: What about a Tank?]
[Silvia: Is that really necessary?]
Ren sighed. Unbelievable.
[Ren: You should never enter any cave—or fight any boss—without a Tank.]
A few seconds passed.
[Silvia: . . . Fine. I'll find one.]
He nodded approvingly. At least she listened.
As new First Blood notifications began flashing on the side of his screen, Ren barely glanced at them. Dozens of players were clearing early dungeons, but none of them mentioned Vulcan's Cave.
That meant he still had time.
[Ren: Good. Meet me at Rocky Hills tomorrow, game time. I need to prepare first.]
[Silvia: Tomorrow?! What if someone else gets First Blood before us?]
[Ren: Better to prepare properly than to get wiped out.]
[Silvia: . . . Fine. I'll find the Tank and get ready.]
Satisfied, Ren closed the chat window.
He leaned back, thinking.
Rocky Hills lay east of Plain Rock Village, in the Dwarven Continent. The Dwarves' land bordered the Elves', but traveling between them by carriage still took over a month in real time. Teleportation Crystals placed at every village and town entrance or exit were still the fastest means of travel.
If Silvia planned to challenge Vulcan, then Ren needed to prepare thoroughly. Even with a Healer in the party, he couldn't afford to rely on others—not in a dungeon filled with heat traps and lava chambers.
He remembered one thing clearly: the cave was long. Painfully long. By the time most groups reached the boss, they were half-dead, stamina depleted, and out of potions.
"Yosh," Ren murmured, standing from his chair.
He left the inn and walked straight to the save/teleportation crystal glowing faintly in the center of Ironto. After setting his destination, a bright light enveloped him.
His next stop: Evonis Newbie Village, located in the land of the Elves.
It was the quickest route to Erendia Town—and beyond that, to Maze Forest, where his new friend Hubert the gnome had set up his shop.
He'd need more trinkets and status inflicting duds before tackling Vulcan's fiery labyrinth.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the map . . .
Ragnar stretched lazily, contemplating where to go next. He'd been thinking of visiting the Human Continent to explore some beginner dungeons there.
Just as he opened the World Chat, a new message popped up.
[Silvia: Hey! Are you online right now? Want to party with us? We're heading to Vulcan's Cave. By the way . . . are you playing a Tank?]
Ragnar's brows furrowed.
So she was assembling a team already, huh?
What she didn't know was that Ragnar's in-game character was an Orc—ugly, massive, and brutal. His class, [Brute], specialized in raw power and endurance, but it wasn't exactly "tank" material.
In real life, Silvia knew him as the refined, stoic heir of a wealthy family—the one their company expected to represent them when COVENANT's stocks went public.
She didn't know that the Orc she was texting was him.
And Ragnar intended to keep it that way.
He didn't want anyone who knew his real face to see him like this—a hulking, tusked monster. It was one of the few ways he could escape the suffocating expectations of his world.
In reality, his parents had forbidden him from getting plastic surgery, despite his lifelong problem of his good looks. He could understand. Who would want their son to have plastic surgery so he could look ugly?
COVENANT was the only place where he could hide, live freely, and forget who he was supposed to be.
He sighed heavily and typed a quick response.
[Ragnar: No.]
Then he immediately closed the chat window and set his messenger to Block All Notifications.
A deep peace washed over him as he looked at the crimson sunset painting the virtual sky.
"Sorry, Silvia," he muttered softly. "But this time, I'm staying anonymous."
And with that, the ugly Orc turned away and ventured toward the wilderness—ready to live his brand-new, monster-faced, peaceful life.