As Daisuke watched her walk away, his thoughts shifted from regret to sifting through a spell of internal conflict. My damage output might have improved, but there’s something that’s been bothering me for a while. Just like in the real world where people—normies—are free to choose their profession, NPCs can do the same.
They can become mages, archers, warriors, and more. They can even pursue special classes, similar to how normies strive to become doctors, pilots, or engineers. And once they decide, they dedicate themselves to studying and practicing to master their craft.
A warrior trains their body, a mage hones their mana core, and a cleric builds their faith. The one thing that both normies and NPCs share is that some level of interest and devotion is required to truly pursue that profession.
My Status Window only opened after I proved to the System that I was genuinely committed to putting my life on the line to become a player. After that, I made a conscious choice to fight in my own way, the roundabout way, just to stay alive. Is that the reason most of my skills are utility-based?
In SO, players are granted skills that reflect their personality, play style, and a variety of other factors. But in general, they have a wide range of attack skills they can cycle through during combat, skills that supplement and maximize their damage modifiers for greater DPS.
And then there’s me. I’ve got an epic class, but not much else to show for it. Is it possible that I need to rethink my entire mindset and approach to fighting?
“Haxks?” Tiphanna called worrisomely from ahead, noting the faint lines creasing his forehead. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he reassured, holding her curious gaze. “By the way, what can you tell me about this Treant? Is there any way to track it?”
The elf puckered her lips, mulling over the question. “Well, like regular plants, Treants draw their nutrients from the soil and sunlight, so they rarely have a reason to move.”
Daisuke stroked his chin in thought. “And since it’s winter, they’re probably conserving energy.”
“Precisely,” she chimed, her voice tinged with mild frustration. “These Treants remain indistinguishable from ordinary trees until they decide to move, which makes them nearly impossible to detect. That’s why Glacium Heartwood is so rare—and so expensive.”
As Tiphanna spoke, Daisuke was already scanning their surroundings through the Eye of Verity. His perspective shifted, lifting his field of vision several meters above the mountainous terrain.
From the monochrome lenses of the Evil Eye, he observed a variety of monsters scattered across the vast expanse, their yellow auras standing out against the stark black-and-white world.
Then, something unusual caught his attention.
Roughly 500 meters northeast, a familiar yet unexpected hue emerged—a vibrant green, the telltale sign of a Field Boss. But something was off. Auras typically conformed to the shape of their owner, yet this one was different. The green light was spherical, diffused over a wide area, as if whatever lay beneath it refused to be confined to a singular form.
Is it underground or something? he wondered, his eyes narrowing. I can’t see past the treetops, so there’s no way to tell—not from this angle, at least.
As he scoured the immediate area, trying to unveil more than just a boogeyman of preconceived shapes and shadows, his gaze eventually caught onto something else nearby—a distinct yellow silhouette, towering and unmoving.
“…I think I found something,” Daisuke murmured, dismissing his ocular ability. As color flooded back into the world, the sudden contrast made Tiphanna’s face seem even more striking than before.
“Haxks?” she called, her cheeks heating under his lingering gaze. “…What do you mean you found something?”
“Oh,” he said, snapping out of it. “The Treant.”
“Huh?” Tiphanna blinked in disbelief, glancing around. “You can’t be serious—we haven’t even started looking yet.”
“Let’s go,” he urged, already ascending the steep, rocky slope. “We’re supposed to finish before sunset—let’s make it happen.”
“Hey, wait for me!” Tiphanna called, hurrying after him. A breathless laugh escaped her. “You never cease to amaze me, you know that.”
Am I really supposed to believe it’s pure coincidence the Treant is lurking that close to a Field Boss? Daisuke wondered, keeping his eyes peeled. Could it be drawn to its power? Whatever the reason, I’m not about to put Tiphanna in harm’s way. I’ll finish this quest first, come back later, then deal with the Field Boss.
***
Daisuke came to a halt in front of a towering oak tree, its massive trunk stretching up nearly thirty meters into the sky. He tilted his head back, his eyes scanning the gnarled, skeletal limbs that reached out like twisted arms against the pale winter sky. Fresh snow clung to its bark, dusting the ancient tree with a blanket of white.
Tiphanna arched an eyebrow curiously. “Why did we stop?”
“We’re here,” came the flat response.
“Here?” she asked, glancing around.
“This is the Treant.”
The elf frowned, noting his reckless proximity to what he was proclaiming to be a fierce monster. “Is this some kind of joke? No matter how you look at it, that’s just a regular oak tree.”
Daisuke smirked. “You wanna bet?”
PUOK!
A dagger shot from Tiphanna’s hand, narrowly missing his face as it lodged itself into the tree trunk.
“See?” she scoffed, a smug smirk tugging at her lips. “Just a normal tree, like I said.”
Without a word, Daisuke casually turned toward the normal tree and started fiddling with the waist of his pants.
“Um. What’re you doing?”
“I’m going to pee-wee,” he said nonchalantly.
“Huh?!” Tiphanna yelped, her hands flying to cover her face, which was now flushed bright pink and steaming. “H-How can you think of doing something so inappropriate in front of a young lady?” she snapped, her voice stern, though her eyes peeked through her fingers. “And what grown man uses the word ‘pee-wee’ anyway?”
“Me, apparently,” he replied dryly, unfazed.
Just as he was about to flick the almighty lightning bolt from its sheath and let loose—
“ROOOOAAWARRRR!”
The oak tree bellowed in outrage—the sound a raw, ancient fury stemming from the deepest depths of its core.
Tiphanna paled, shoulders slumping as the ground trembled beneath them. Daisuke moved quickly, scooping up the gawking blacksmith and retreating to a safe distance.
Roots snapped like whips, stones split apart, and dirt cascaded in waves as the massive tree wrenched itself free from the earth.
Gradually, the wood’s camouflage faded away, revealing an eerie transformation—pale, near-white bark stretched over a towering frame, streaked with veins of gold and deep green that pulsed like the lifeblood of the forest itself.
What was once a lofty tree lost its rigid structure, morphing like liquid wood into the shape of an enormous humanoid. Branches coiled and thickened into limbs, fingers extending like clawed roots, each twitch of movement sending creaks and groans through the air. Horns spiraled upward from its head. Leaves and moss cascaded over its shoulders and down its back, forming something akin to shoulder guards and a tattered cloak of greenery.
Daisuke broke into a sweat.
His body dipped low as he summoned the Dark Upheaval twins. In the same beat, a single emerald eye flared to life beneath the Treant’s wooden brow. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and malice.
“Th-That’s not the Frost Treant,” Tiphanna stammered, taking a nervous step back, her eyes wide with dread. “It can’t be… it’s not supposed to be this massive.”
BOOOOM!
Daisuke averted his gaze, watching as the mountainous creature took a single, foreboding step forward. His expression twisted in shock when he noticed the creature’s yellow aura beginning to morph.
It transformed into a bright green glow, which was synonymous with a particular tier of monster—an entirely different caliber of threat.
What the hell?! He thought, his mind racing. Did it… somehow manage to camouflage its aura as well?
Tiphanna took another step back, her breath quickening.
“You should go,” Daisuke urged with a faint smile. “We’ve bitten off more than we can chew this time. I’ll hold it off while you get out of here.”
The girl paused, her gaze trembling as it shifted from his rigid expression to the daggers tightly gripped in his hands. The weapons were not just tools—they were embodiments of her determination and resolve.
While she worked tirelessly at the forge, she told herself they served many purposes—one of which was to be the instrument, the catalyst, for preserving the integrity of the city and, in turn, creating a safe place for the people she cherished to find happiness.
But right now, in this very moment, if she succumbed to her fear and abandoned him. If she allowed him to fight alone and perish before he could give purpose and prestige to the weapons she made, she would never forgive herself.
Worse, she wouldn’t be able to face her friends again. And in the most painful possibility, she would lose her muse to smith—which would be the same as tarnishing her father’s memory.
“No!” the elf responded, more to herself than to him. “I won’t run. I won’t leave you behind. I’ll fight beside you… to the very end.”
Daisuke studied her grin, noting the bravado in her words. His eyes took on a golden gleam as he read her status window, then compared it to the encroaching fiend that was gradually transforming its right arm into a lance forged from vines and hardened wood.
[Name: Tiphanna Eryndoril
Species: Elf
Gender: Female
Level: 52 | EXP: 7,383/422,500 (1.75%)
Class: Smithammer
Affiliation: Eryndoril’s Blacksmith
Title: Ashen Exile
HP: 19397/19397 | MP: 8198/8210
Strength: 172 (+4) | Stamina: 130 (+2) | Agility: 125 (+3) | Intelligence: 93 (+6) | Dexterity: 12
Stat Points: 0]
[Colossal Frost Treant | Lvl 47 | Field Boss | HP: 4892064/4892064]