The dream faded, and reality returned. My companions shook me awake.
"Hero, rise. We must go."
I wished—just for a moment—that life could be like the dream I had seen. But the path before me was real, and so was the burden.
We arrived at the king's castle. His voice was commanding, yet strangely warm.
"Young men, you are to defeat the Demon King. I believe the goddess will bless you with power."
Blessing… perhaps I am considered one, I thought.
The king handed us 150 D coins and free equipment. "Go, Hero Party. Accomplish your duty."
We bid farewell to Poker Kingdom.
On the road, I asked Sanot, "Which city suits our level?"
Sanot replied, "Droscent Town. It has low-level monsters, useful for training. Three days by foot."
And so we marched.
I fought monsters relentlessly—goblins, wolves, orcs—while my companions laughed and played. Yet they leveled up with me, for the party shared experience.
Narrate whispered, "Oh! I forgot to mention—when one gains EXP, the whole party benefits."
I cooked, cleaned, polished weapons, and scouted half the night. Sanot conjured baths with his skill, while the others took shifts lazily.
Three days passed. My patience thinned.
"I am the only one fighting while you fool around," I snapped.
Sanot smirked. "You are the Hero. You must fight. We are only your subordinates. Try harder."
I clenched my fists. This will never end.
Checking my status, I discovered a new skill: Holy Slash. My heart lifted. "At last… something real."
We reached Droscent Town by evening. I trained, swinging my sword, honing footwork.
Night fell. The inn had no bathhouse, but I had already washed that morning. I arranged my gear and slept.
Days passed. I hunted in Droscent Forest, killing monsters to grow stronger. My companions wandered:
- Bange joined the assassin guild, killing for coin.
- Clever fought in arenas, earning bets.
- Alovent flaunted his body at hostess clubs.
- Sanot drank sake, mocking the poor.
And I… I fought alone.
One evening, exhausted, I whispered, "Enough for today. Holy Slash has drained me. I cannot level further."
Suddenly, a monster lunged—a Distinct Dog, its eyes glowing with malice.
Fear gripped me. My Last Minute Luck skill flared. I swung Holy Slash with my final MP. The blade cut true, and the beast fell.
I staggered back, trembling. My first true kill. Blood stained the earth.
That night, I lay sleepless, haunted by the memory. My companions laughed and drank, their night jolly.
Thus begins Dransart's true journey—his trembling steps into battle, his companions' selfishness, and the slow awakening of his catastrophic destiny.
Would you like me to write the next chapter as the turning point where Dransart realizes his companions may betray him, tying back to the king's sinister laugh and foreshadowing the clash between loyalty and survival?