Cassandra McConnell's Perspective
The moment Cassandra read the description of the title she had just received, she knew immediately.
She probably wouldn't be rid of that brute and his mage friend anytime soon.
Not that it was exactly a problem.
In fact, the mere fact that he was so strong was reason enough for her and her friends to cling to him — at least for a while.
Finding good players wasn't easy.
In truth, until now Cassandra hadn't met anyone who was truly worth the effort in this game.
But with this title?
Ah, with this title everything changed.
Honestly, she knew: it would be impossible to convince her friends to refuse any invitation the brute might extend in the future.
Even if she argued, even if she insisted, the logic was too simple — no sane person would walk away from a collective 10% stat bonus.
Not even Hana, who sometimes seemed more stubborn than she was.
So, with a resigned sigh, Cassandra simply gave up.
If that's how things would turn out, better to just accept it.
And in the end, it wasn't really a loss.
There were far more interesting things to worry about in that dungeon.
Like, for example… loot.
Finally, after so many fights, blood, and sweat, there was loot in this game.
A golden glimmer caught her eyes, and Cassandra felt a shiver of satisfaction ripple through her.
In the end, maybe the Black Tower did have its rewards.
Cassandra wasn't really after more power.
Of course, stronger items were always welcome — who would refuse?
But deep down, her main goal was something else: to stand out.
For someone like her, who had always cared about fashion, it was simply degrading to wear the same outfit as every other mage in the Black Tower.
All of them had the same robe, the same silver trim, the same lifeless short cloak.
The only difference was the colors.
It felt less like individuality, more like a uniform.
An aesthetic prison.
Sure, she could buy different clothes from NPC merchants.
But the prices were ridiculous.
Far too ridiculous to spend on items that offered nothing but looks.
No bonuses, no stats, no advantages.
Just aesthetics.
If she had as much money as Hana — that girl seemed to live in some alternate reality when it came to resources — maybe she would consider it.
Maybe she'd even pay the absurd prices just to avoid blending into the sea of clones.
But reality was different.
Her bank account — both in-game and in real life — was broke.
Utterly broke.
She didn't have many options.
Until now.
Because as she looked around the hall after the boss's fall, Cassandra saw what truly made her eyes sparkle.
Dozens of gold coins scattered across the floor, reflecting the flickering light of candles like little golden stars.
Fragments of battered armor, rough wooden and iron staves, scraps of leather still reeking of smoke and blood.
And among it all, a few rare gems, glowing in shades of blue and red, as if they held a silent fire within.
All of it, abandoned, just waiting for quick, ambitious hands.
For others, it was just loot.
For Cassandra, it was possibility.
Her mind raced, almost breathless, already piecing together combinations in her head.
Cloth could be adjusted.
Metal buckles reused as decorative accents.
Even a chunk of poorly forged armor could be turned into an accessory.
She wasn't just thinking about power.
She was thinking about new ways to stand out.
To be different.
To never be mistaken for the ocean of generic mages wandering the Tower in the same dull robes.
Every coin was a seed.
Every gem, an opportunity to reshape how she would be seen.
And Cassandra wanted that with every fiber of her being.
It was almost ironic.
While others saw the Black Tower as a brutal test of survival, Cassandra saw it as a stage.
A cruel, bloody stage, yes…
But still, a place where she could shine in her own way.
But before she could start her private celebration, the brute known as Aslan — whose real name she now knew was Alessio — finally stood up, drawing everyone's attention.
Eleanor was the first to speak, her voice heavy with worry:
"Careful… are you alright?"
He replied with the same calm as always:
"Of course, I'm fine. Thank you very much for the help."
The sigh of relief escaping Eleanor's lips almost made Cassandra roll her eyes.
But she kept the thought to herself.
Alessio then scanned the ruined hall, surveying the wreckage, the bloodstains, and the boss's body still pinned to the wall.
"This was quite the mess. Good work, girls. Especially you, Hana… without that arrow, the boss would've stayed berserk much longer."
Before anyone could answer, Matteo spoke up, indignant:
"Hey, man, I helped too!"
Alessio turned to him, keeping his composure:
"Of course, man. Great work with the defense."
The engineer adjusted his glasses, wearing the meticulous air of someone who demanded recognition.
Cassandra, meanwhile, was still wondering where on earth he had gotten those glasses in a game where nothing beyond the basics seemed available.
"You'd better know it," Matteo muttered, satisfied.
It made everyone laugh — even her, she had to admit. That mage had a bit of a comedian in him.
And then, with the same dreamy tone as always, he added:
"Hey, did you see this title? I guess we're a team now, right? The First Pioneers. I feel like a Spanish conquistador in the 16th century."
Hana was the first to answer, direct as always:
"I'm free for a dungeon or two whenever you want."
Eleanor just nodded firmly in agreement.
At that point, inevitably, all eyes turned to Cassandra.
She only sighed, having long foreseen the inevitable direction of things.
"Sure, as long as it's worth it, I'm in," she said, without dwelling on the details.
And only then did she realize that, with a single sentence, she had just tied her fate in this game to that band of lunatics.