“That’s impossible.”
Contrary to his hopes, Raul’s response was curt and unwavering.
“Why is that?”
Woojin asked, his expression betraying confusion.
“My swordsmanship isn’t something just anyone can learn. It’s a legacy skill. Still interested?”
‘Legacy skill? What’s that?’
“…Of course.”
Woojin answered cautiously.
A chill ran down his spine. Raul exuded a murderous intent so oppressive that Woojin’s body trembled involuntarily.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
The lethal aura receded as Raul nodded to himself.
“I couldn’t believe your talk of coming from another world, but seeing you now, it’s clear you’re not from here.”
“…What?”
“A legacy skill is a unique-grade technique that only one person can master at a time,” Raul explained.
With a smooth motion, he drew his sword.
“I should’ve guessed from your lack of reaction when I mentioned being a first-grade adventurer.”
Despite the countless wolves the blade had cleaved, its edge remained pristine.
“A first-grade adventurer?”
Raul spoke in a low tone.
“It’s a title granted only to those who’ve successfully hunted a dragon.”
“A dragon?”
Woojin couldn’t hide his shock.
A dragon slayer.
In Evil Tale, no player had reached their first job advancement yet, so the title existed only as speculation on official forums.
It was tied to a hidden third-tier class: Dragon Hunter, unlocked only after completing a specific quest.
To think such a figure stood before him now—Woojin could hardly believe it.
“I didn’t realize you were such a remarkable person.”
“Ha, not remarkable. It’s just faded glory from the past. These days, I fear wolves more than dragons.”
“…What?”
“Ambition was my downfall.”
Raul loosened the straps of his armor, revealing his collarbone and torso, scarred with deep, festering wounds.
“…!!”
“I foolishly reached for something I shouldn’t have.”
“What was it?”
“The heart of a dragon.”
Raul laughed bitterly.
“The dragon’s power is slowly devouring me. One day, it’ll consume me entirely.”
The Dragon Heart.
Renowned as the elixir containing the strongest power in existence, yet no one had discovered how to refine it.
“Wasn’t that reckless? With your strength, why would you…”
“Because it still wasn’t enough.”
“…I see.”
“You and I aren’t so different.”
Woojin fell silent at Raul’s words.
The difference lay only in the scale of their ambitions.
Click—.
Raul held out his sword to Woojin.
“Grab it.”
With trembling hands, Woojin cautiously grasped the hilt.
K-KRAKKA-KA-BOOM―――!!
The instant he touched it, his mind erupted as though struck by lightning.
Memories of countless battles flashed through his consciousness, imprinting themselves as if they were his own.
“Gah?!!”
He staggered back, gasping in shock.
“This… What is this?”
Woojin stared at Raul with wide eyes.
“Those are thirty years’ worth of my memories, spent hunting dragons. That’s what a legacy skill is. It’s not just about learning techniques—you inherit the experience and life of its master.”
Raul smirked faintly, as though expecting his reaction.
“Dragon Sky. My life’s work, embodied in my swordsmanship.”
A soft hum resonated from Raul’s blade as it emitted a faint glow.
“Ha… The only time someone inherits such memories is when the master dies.”
Raul stood up, brushing off the dirt from his clothes.
“Sorry, but I can’t teach you my sword yet. I’m not ready to die.”
At the cave’s entrance, the morning light spilled in, framing his solitary figure.
Had it not been for the kindness of this stranger, Woojin might have perished, forgotten in this different world.
‘Yeah, desiring even his life would be sheer arrogance.’
“Is there no cure?”
Raul shook his head.
“Perhaps. They say there’s a high priestess named Loren on the northern isle of the Lion King. If anyone can, it’s her.”
Though the dragon’s power was killing him, his eyes still burned with determination.
“Do you have a destination?”
Woojin shook his head.
In Evil Tale, the goal was to conquer the Labyrinth Tower, but in this world, there were no remaining floors to clear. The only floor stood high in the sky, untouchable.
“Then why not come with me? You’ve got sharp eyes and decent aptitude. While I can’t teach you Dragon Sky, I can train your fundamentals on our way to the Lion King’s fortress.”
It was a tempting offer.
The Dark Forest was vast, teeming with goblins, orcs, and creatures far deadlier than wolves.
Could he survive alone?
Recalling the wounds left by the wolves, Woojin nodded.
Next time, those fangs might pierce his throat.
“Thank you.”
The best way for the weak to survive was to stay close to the strong.
The forest path seemed endless.
By the time the sun set, the oppressive darkness returned, suffocating them.
[Keeeng!!!]
Woojin’s sword sliced clean through the gnoll’s neck.
“Lower your stance. Your sword tip still wavers. If you’re aiming for my swordsmanship, master the basics first.”
Hearing Raul’s words from behind, Woojin gritted his teeth and turned to the remaining gnolls, cutting them down in quick succession.
“Huff… Huff…”
Three gnoll corpses fell at his feet in an instant.
‘This is just a beginner’s area…’
Yet it was grueling.
The towering trees and occasional cries of beasts mixed the air with an oppressive weight.
“No runes.”
Woojin checked the monster corpses and stood up, his expression calm.
“It seems my luck ran out after the first day. I haven’t found any since.”
Raul chuckled.
“You’re right. That night, the moon was bright. Such nights bring more runes.”
‘A time-based effect?’
In Evil Tale, there was a similar mechanic—daytime reduced experience but weakened monsters, while nighttime increased both.
“Let’s rest here for tonight.”
At Raul’s suggestion, Woojin quietly gathered branches to start a fire.
“You’re finally starting to hold the sword properly.”
Raul commented, roasting gnoll meat over the flames.
“But I still can’t use any skills.”
“Don’t rush. Once your fundamentals are solid, they’ll come naturally.”
On the third day of traversing the Shadow Forest, the two of them had hunted a significant number of monsters.
Most of the hunting fell to Woojin.
Since that day, Raul had been teaching him everything from how to grip a sword to footwork, posture, and all the basics necessary for survival.
“Your world is currently attempting the tenth floor, you said?”
“Yes. Unlike before, this time it’s a large-scale assault.”
Up to the ninth floor, instance dungeons could be cleared by small parties, but the tenth floor was different.
It required a raid format with at least ten participants. Woojin remembered reading on the community forums that the renowned [Phoenix Corps] of Kergah, known as the strongest guild, was leading the charge.
“They may have already cleared it by now,” Woojin said.
“This world has little interest in clearing the Tower. The faster it’s cleared, the grimmer things become,” Raul replied.
At Raul’s words, Woojin quietly gazed at the distant floating castle of the Tower’s final 100th floor.
‘The game’s conclusion couldn’t turn out like this… could it?’
The thought sent shivers down his spine.
‘How can something like this even be possible?’
A world identical to the game existing in reality—no matter how much he thought about it, it defied belief.
‘But unless I’ve gone insane…’
One question lingered in his mind.
How could Evil Tale create a world that was an exact replica of this one?
‘Evil Tale wasn’t created by humans.’
The tagline used in the game’s early marketing campaigns resurfaced in his memory:
“The first-ever virtual reality game created by autonomous AI, [Ethan].”
‘A game created by artificial intelligence.’
While there were plenty of rumors and debates at first, all criticism ceased once the game launched. Its world-building was so flawless that no one could find fault with it.
But Woojin could tell. If this other world was truly real…
‘The AI didn’t create a perfect world.’
All Evil Tale had done was replicate a pre-existing one.
‘If that’s the case…’
Gulp. Woojin swallowed nervously.
Perhaps the key to resolving everything that had happened to him lay there.
‘The AI, [Ethan].’
The game, this world, and reality—all seemed connected by this singular existence.
‘I can see the path forward, at least a little.’
The only problem was figuring out how to return.
In the real world, the game was accessed through a capsule.
‘If this world is another version of reality…’
Then returning would require a device similar to the capsule.
But the absence of any obvious connection mechanism was a problem—there couldn’t be a capsule in this other world.
“Can I ask you for a favor?” Raul suddenly said.
“What is it?”
Woojin turned to Raul after snapping out of his thoughts.
“If you manage to return… and find yourself in the central continent, would you visit a small village called [Yorka]?”
“The central continent, huh… Sure, though I’ll need to level up quite a bit before I can get there.”
“There, you’ll find a small house with a green roof. A woman named Lea should be living there.”
Woojin nodded at Raul’s request.
“Could you tell her to watch out for colds?”
“…Excuse me?”
Surprised by the seemingly out-of-place request, Woojin stared at Raul.
“My mother suffered from pneumonia her entire life.”
Raul’s face softened as he shared a piece of his past. Woojin nodded quietly.
“I’ll make sure she hears it.”
Fifty years apart.
While Woojin wrestled with the fear of an unknown future, those left behind in the past carried messages they wished to send forward.
He still didn’t know if the game he’d return to was truly Raul’s past, but he couldn’t ignore a heartfelt request.
“Thank you. I couldn’t ask for more.”
Raul let out a deep sigh, as though relieved to have eased a long-held burden, and leaned back against a tree.
“Don’t make it sound like a farewell speech,” Woojin added.
“Cluck-cluck, my apologies. It’s just that from here on out, we’ll need to stay sharp.”
At Raul’s words, Woojin steeled himself.
They were heading west within the Shadow Forest.
‘If I recall, that’s where the goblins’ territory begins.’
Though goblins weren’t particularly strong, they were cunning.
Unlike most monsters, which were relentlessly aggressive, goblins knew how to retreat and even escape. In the game, they were infamous for being among the most persistent and annoying foes players had to deal with.
“Don’t worry. I’ve faced goblins before.”
“Goblins? That’s not what concerns me here,” Raul replied, his expression turning serious.
“The Faceless Monster.”
Woojin froze as a long-forgotten memory resurfaced.
“Be careful. This is its domain.”
Raul had warned him about it when they first met.
“Forty years ago, shortly after the Tower appeared, a black sorcerer from Murenka created a monster here.”
Raul lowered his stance, stepping cautiously.
“At first, people thought it was just another typical creation of black magic… but what does it mean when a creature survives even now, with the Tower cleared up to the 99th floor?”
Raul’s tone was heavier than ever.
“It means no one has been able to kill it.”
Gulp. Woojin swallowed again, his mouth dry.
“Could it be…?”
His voice trembled as he spoke.
“Is that the Faceless Monster?”
[Hrrrr…]
A raspy, metallic breath echoed from the darkness.
A shadow, darker than the surrounding gloom, emerged, revealing a rusted knight wielding a corroded sword.
Creak.
Its face, scarred as though burned, had no features—only two crimson glimmers stared back at them.
“…Damn it!!!”
The forest erupted in chaos once again.
