After Akara's brief introduction, her face grew solemn.
"Since you've made it here, it means you're qualified to take on missions.
After the five heroes defeated the Prime Evils, the four survivors wandered the world and eventually formed the Human Alliance. Together, they poured their strength into creating the Guardian World.
Three years of work, and it was finally complete.
The Guardian World isn't a real world—it's a mirrored projection of Sanctuary itself. Now it acts as a shield. Any invader seeking to enter Sanctuary must first conquer the Guardian World.
At the same time, this world strengthens humanity while suppressing all foreign powers.
Now, look up at the star dial atop the tower."
She paused, tilting her head toward the strange clocktower.
Leo glanced up. Nearly half of its markings glowed.
"There are five star dials. The markings show the degree of Hell's corruption in each surrounding region. The higher the corruption, the weaker the suppression. If all five reach one hundred percent, the Guardian World will collapse, and the invaders will descend into Sanctuary at full strength.
Through years of trial, the Alliance found the simplest, most effective way to reduce corruption: kill enemy projections. The stronger the projection, the better the effect.
But enemies grow stronger, and our camp is in danger. Begin by clearing the Blood Moor outside. Be cautious—the beasts are formidable.
Still, we are not without means. Soon you'll experience firsthand the Guardian World's blessing.
Now begins the transfer ceremony. Stand still, calm your hearts, and embrace what comes."
Rainbow light engulfed the crowd. Within it, seven streams of power floated, waiting. One, silver, resonated deeply with Leo, echoing his own strange cultivation. Without hesitation, he reached for it.
Warmth flowed into him, gentle as winter sunlight, remolding his body. Ten minutes later, the silver light faded.
Leo felt as though chains had broken inside him.
\[Beep beep. Host has completed class transfer. Minimap function unlocked. Open with thought.]
He willed it open. Like Diablo II, his map lit up only at his location, the rest dark. Perfect—he'd never be lost again.
Akara's voice returned, soft and clear:
"I know you're confused. You've all transferred now. Think of what you need, and some answers will appear. The rest is yours to explore."
The recruits buzzed with excitement until Akara coughed once—gently, but with psychic force. It brushed Leo's mind like a breeze, silencing all.
"Now follow Kashya to the barracks. Register, claim your supplies, and let the Rogues guide you around. Afterward, learn your new powers before taking missions."
She departed, leaving them to Kashya and her warriors.
Inside the barracks—really just big tents—Leo's turn came. A Rogue held a small stone to his badge. The blank silver surface glowed, a crossed-sword-and-shield emblem etching itself, with "Leo the White Warrior" on the reverse. The stone morphed into his likeness, uncannily real.
"Greetings, Lord Leo. I am Shike. I'll guide you through the camp," came a cheerful girl's voice.
Leo looked up from the badge. Before him stood a lively sixteen- or seventeen-year-old with an athletic frame, neat reddish-brown ponytail, skin pale as milk, and wide dark eyes brimming with curiosity.
"Hello, Shike. Just call me Leo. No 'lord,' no formality—it feels strange. Could you take me to the camp center first?"
She skipped ahead. Leo followed, smiling faintly, absently turning his badge over.
"This badge is more than ID," she explained. "It shows a warrior's potential and strength. Potentials run white, blue, yellow, green, and dark."
Leo's face paled. White? That was him.
Shike giggled. "Don't worry. True potential isn't read until level 30. Until then it's provisional."
He exhaled in relief.
"As for strength," she went on, "it rises one tier every ten levels: Warrior, then Champion, then Hero. Past 30, I don't know—I've only reached Hero myself."
What the hell—just a Rogue girl, already over level 20.
At the camp's center, the clocktower loomed higher still, seamless stone, fire embers glowing at its base beside a massive warehouse.
Two figures stood there: one Rogue, the other a girl with golden curls spilling from under a skullcap, clad in studded leather. A badge on her chest bore crossed claws. Her hands twisted nervously at her chest; whenever eyes fell on her, she glanced away, shy and uneasy.
Leo approached. She shrank back half a step.
The Rogue guarding her stepped forward, bow ready, mistaking him for a masked stranger.
Leo quickly produced his badge. "Wait! No harm meant. Are you… Maijessie? It's me—Leo."
Her eyes lit, her smile burst wide, and she hurled herself into him. "Brother! I missed you so much. Don't ever leave me again."
Leo froze. Two lifetimes of solitude hadn't prepared him for this. He'd endured transmigration itself, but not this kind of scene.
At last she released him.
"Maijessie, are you unwell?" He already guessed the truth, but knew time was the only salve.
She forced a smile. "I'm fine. Just dizzy from the teleport."
Leo grimaced. A flimsy excuse—the transfer ritual had already restored everyone's bodies. But he played along.
"Wherever we go—Hell, Heaven—I'll take you. For now, let's follow Shike and her sister here to learn the camp."
"Her name's Debbie," Maijessie said, wiping her eyes, nodding obediently.
They reached Leo's tent—number 222. Perfect.
"Here you are, big brother Leo," Shike chirped. "A whole tent to yourself! I even picked up your supplies already. Got scolded for it too, by Kyoko, who handles stores." She stuck out her tongue playfully.
Leo rifled through the kit: bedding, canteen, firewood—and four minor healing potions. Akara's "little gift."
"Thanks, Shike. One thing—how long have you been here?"
"That's forbidden talk," Debbie cut in coldly.
Shike smiled slyly. "We can't tell you camp secrets. But you could always ask Lady Akara. She sees into hearts, but she's usually kind."
Leo shrugged. "Never mind. Can I move my tent near my sister's?"
"Of course," Shike said brightly. "The camp isn't our master. We provide tasks and lodging, that's all. Once registered, you're free. You could pitch your tent out in the Blood Moor if you wanted."
Leo packed his tent into his inventory. Like in the game, four rows by ten slots—forty spaces. The tent alone filled half.
Soon they reached Maijessie's tent—number 666. 222 + 666 = 888. An auspicious sum.
He mapped the encampment with his minimap:
• Northwest—trade district: tavern, Gheed's hated caravan.
• Northeast—smithy: Charsi and her forges.
• Southeast—sisters' quarters: Akara and the Sightless Eye crafting magic items.
• Between smiths and sisters—the barracks: Kashya and her Rogues, guarding the gates and the teleport.
• Southwest—adventurers' quarters: the great arrival circle, only for positioning, not transport.
• Center—plaza with the star dial tower, warehouse, roaring bonfires where Rogues celebrated nightly, and Cain's residence beside them.
Not wanting to appear aloof, but not keen to cluster with others, Leo set up near the sisters' quarter—quiet, and a little awe-inspiring.
As he worked, Maijessie stepped forward to help. He waved her off—no way such a small girl should haul gear. He forgot she was a warrior now too.
Obedient as ever, she sat watching.
"Brother… I think that Shike girl was a little strange."
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