A blue screen slid in front of Kyle.
Kyle's eyes narrowed the moment it formed—then widened. `Wha-what?`
[Name: Mark]
[Strength: ??? | Intelligence: 64 | Endurance: 91 | Agility: 87 | Magic: 70]
[Affection: 0%]
Kyle stared at the first stat.
`Strength... ???`
He'd never seen that before.
He looked again, as if the screen might "fix itself" under pressure, but it didn't.
A slow understanding settled in. `It's not that the system can't identify it... it's that I can't.`
Kyle's gaze flicked across the rest. Everything else was visible—and all of it was high.
His eyes narrowed further. `So stats stop displaying past a certain point? Is it 100?`
He couldn't be sure. But the pattern was hard to ignore. Kyle dismissed the screen, jaw slightly tight.
In fact, he had improved during the missions over the previous month.
Kyle opened his status screen and glanced at it before closing it, satisfied.
[Name: Kyle]
[Class: Mind Controller]
[Strength: 25 | Intelligence: 34 | Endurance: 23 | Agility: 19 | Magic: 0]
[Unused Stat Points: 0]
[Skills: "Mind Control", "Thought Reading"]
Then his eyes drifted toward the Hero's Party and opened their status screens too.
His eyes widened in shock. Their stats had increased—not by much, but they had increased.
The increase was very small, with only one or two more than before. The one whose statistics increased the most was Arthur—his stat rose from 43 to 46.
It may not seem much, but Kyle had a different opinion. He had been seeing the status screens of many people since he came to this city—different adventurers, mercenaries, even ordinary people.
But he hadn't seen any increase in stats, even in his own team, which he had been with for about a month and a half. He hadn't seen a single increase.
Now he saw that three people's stats had increased in one month, which only proved to him that the hero's team was not like the rest.
For the first time, he began to feel threatened. He was special in this world—he didn't need to train, he didn't need to understand techniques or skills or anything.
All he needed to do was collect stats to become stronger and buy equipment and skills from the store in the blink of an eye.
Although he knew that this world must contain many powerful and special people, this idea was only a hypothesis... but now that he had actually seen the truth, he felt that he had to become stronger quickly.
Kyle dismissed the thought as his party began moving.
"Come on," Alara said, already rising. "We have until dawn."
The sun was already starting to fall outside the guild windows. Campaign members scattered into different preparations the moment they stepped into the main hall.
Some headed for the alchemy stalls—cheap diluted potions, bandages, emergency salves. Others stayed in the guild to study the map, listening to veterans talk about mountain routes and monster behavior.
Kyle had something more important on his mind. He had to charge the Fear Blade well.
He bought a small jar of fresh animal blood from a butcher who didn't ask questions, then stepped into a quiet alley behind the inn.
He drew the dagger and tipped the jar, letting the blood run along the edge.
The dagger drank it in. The red lines brightened—just faintly—then settled into a low, steady glow before fading back down.
Kyle exhaled. "Good."
By midnight, the city had returned to calm—the bars had quieted down and the streets were empty.
Kyle returned to his room and sat on the bed for a long time without lying down.
A 300-year-old red dragon.
Its strength was equal to an A-rank adventurer like the guildmaster, but that doesn't mean the guildmaster will face it alone.
It wasn't just about raw strength. No sane A-rank adventurer would fight this dragon alone.
Their strength is equal, which means that even if the guildmaster wins, he will have serious injuries and may be on the verge of death.
Also, dragons can fly. They can retreat, circle, burn the ground, and withdraw whenever they want.
On top of all that, the Blackroot Mountains are known for their powerful monsters.
Although the red dragon does not live deep in the mountains, that does not mean there are no monsters near it. The blood and noise would call everything nearby.
That was why there was a campaign.
A spear to kill. And a shield to keep the spear from being eaten while it tried.
Kyle leaned back, staring at the ceiling. `The plan is solid... the roles are solid too.`
And still... he felt uneasy.
It wasn't fear, nor hesitation. Just a faint intuition that something about this campaign would go wrong.
Kyle exhaled quietly and lay down on the bed. He didn't want to get discouraged before the campaign even started.
With that, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
---
Dawn arrived, quiet and cold.
Kyle was getting dressed. A dark fitted shirt, a long black coat that didn't hinder his movement, and dark trousers.
A single shoulder guard strapped over one side—enough to catch a bad strike without weighing him down. A bracer on his forearm.
Kyle grabbed Fear Blade and slipped it into its sheath on his belt. Then he looked at his hand, specifically the mark on it.
He hesitated—then summoned Nightmare.
Golden sparks gathered, and the bird formed in a quiet ripple.
It was almost his height now. Four wings folded tight. Tail feathers long. And those... eyes. A few, not many.
Still enough to make Kyle's skin prickle if he stared too long.
Nightmare tilted its head at him, three golden eyes focusing calmly.
Kyle watched it for a second, then exhaled. "Stay ready."
Nightmare blinked slowly.
Kyle dismissed it again, and the tattoo returned.
Then he left.
The guild was right next to the inn, and three carts stood outside in a row, stamped with the Golden Vanguard crest. Two standard ones... and one larger than the others.
Kyle walked inside the guild and saw his party already there.
Alara looked sharp in her battle gear, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Mira looked half-awake and fully nervous, hugging her cloak around herself like it was going to protect her from dragon fire.
Weston was calm, speaking quietly with Leo about positioning strategies.
Stewart's party lingered in another corner, talking low. They seemed ready.
Then footsteps came from the stairs.
The guildmaster descended first with his party. Behind them—Arthur, Kaia, and Celestia.
Arthur looked ready—maybe too ready. His armor gleamed, and his sword rested at his hip.
A slight smile appeared on Kaia's face as she glanced around the room. She looked either bored or intensely alert. Probably both.
Celestia stood in her usual white veil, hands folded in front of her, expression unreadable.
The guildmaster stopped at the bottom and swept his gaze across the room.
Then he fixed his gaze at the primary assault team.
"We will engage directly with the dragon. Stick to the roles we planned earlier. Remember to stay alert and don't rush into anything."
Arthur nodded. "Yes, Guildmaster."
Then he turned to the secondary assault team.
"You will handle the perimeter. Alara, Stewart, you two are in charge. Keep your team safe."
Alara and Stewart nodded their heads.
"Expect to reach the dragon's cave by noon. Secondary teams will establish positions and wait for orders. Primary teams will advance together."
He paused.
"And remember—this is a coordinated campaign. Work together, stay in contact, and for god's sake, don't die."
With that, he walked toward the guild doors and out toward the carts.
"Now, let's move. Secondary assault team in the standard carts." His eyes flicked to the larger one. "Primary assault team with me."
With that, he walked out. His party and the Hero's Party headed toward the bigger cart.
Alara's party moved toward one cart. Stewart's party toward the other.
Kyle climbed in with his team into one of the standard carts, sitting near the side so he could see the road ahead through the gap in the canvas.
The carts rolled, and Stonehelm's gates opened. As the city fell behind them and the land began to stretch into hills—
The campaign was beginning.