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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Seeing Angie’s full name appear in the system window, Aslan’s first thought was that he was hallucinating.
Perhaps, after twelve years of wandering and suffering, he had finally lost his mind.
But a thought required testing.
Aslan’s fingers traced patterns in the air, pressing where the Mana stat should have been, now a blackened void.
[Remaining Points: 3]
The points didn’t decrease.
If it had worked correctly, Angie should have reacted. But she only stared at him, her eyes filled with confusion as he continued to trace patterns in the air.
Next, he tried Strength. The stat with the most noticeable effect.
He didn’t even need to press the system window. The moment his finger brushed against it, Angie reacted.
“…Huh?”
Her remaining points decreased to two, and she suddenly lifted her arm, staring at it intently.
Her thin, pale forearm flexed as she made a fist, then opened her hand.
Seeing her reaction, Aslan knew he wasn’t hallucinating.
He hesitated for a moment.
‘No reason to hesitate. If it’s given to me, I’ll use it.’
His hesitation was brief. He closed his eyes, then opened them, and tapped Vitality and Agility.
“Huh? Wha…?”
Angie reacted to each tap, but Aslan ignored her and selected his own name.
[Aslan]
[■] [■■] [■■]
[Mana] [Fighting Spirit] [Luck]
[Remaining Points: 2]
It seemed the stat points were divided between him and Angie. Aslan allocated his remaining two points to Fighting Spirit and Luck.
He felt a surge of energy coursing through him.
Aslan closed the system window with a sigh. Angie, wiping sweat from her brow, met his gaze.
“What did you do to…”
“What did you dream about?”
The girl, who had realized her physical changes were somehow connected to Aslan’s actions, stopped mid-sentence.
“…I dreamt… things were staring at me.”
He had a hunch. Aslan hoped he was wrong, but the evidence was undeniable.
A crack appeared in his normally impassive expression. Angie noticed.
“What’s with that look?”
“How many things were staring at you?”
He didn’t answer her question, only asked another. The girl looked annoyed, but something in Aslan’s demeanor made her quietly hold up her fingers.
She extended all the fingers on one hand, then switched to the other. Aslan’s expression grew more troubled with each finger she raised.
She stopped with one finger left to extend on her second hand.
“Nine.”
Aslan closed his eyes and sighed.
There was a specific scene in the game, Eternal Dominion, that players encountered early on.
The first time the player camped after leveling up, they witnessed the protagonist’s nightmare.
A nightmare where the gods, observing the protagonist’s newfound power, their elevated status, fixed their gazes upon them.
But it was more than just a dream.
Being watched, scrutinized by seven gods, couldn’t be dismissed as a simple nightmare.
And the fact that Angie had seen nine gazes was undeniable proof.
Unlike the game Aslan had played, Gelladrion had two additional gods that didn’t exist in Eternal Dominion.
This meant only one thing.
The same thing implied by the names appearing in the system window.
The same thing signified by the main quest appearing after twelve years.
‘I’m not the protagonist.’
Aslan opened his eyes and saw Angie kneeling before him, staring intently.
The annoyance from a moment ago was gone.
Instead, she looked concerned, tilting her head. Her expression was unreadable.
“Are you okay?”
Hearing her question, Aslan asked himself the same thing.
His thoughts turned inwards.
Strength, Vitality, Agility – those had become the girl’s stats, not his.
Only Mana, Fighting Spirit, and Luck belonged to him.
The conclusion was clear, but questions lingered.
Why was she the protagonist?
Why were the stats divided between them?
Why was this happening now, after twelve years?
There were many unknowns. But Aslan decided not to dwell on them.
Contemplation wouldn’t provide answers. Even if he came up with a theory, he couldn’t be certain it was correct.
He didn’t want to waste his energy on something he couldn’t immediately understand. He focused on the one thing he did know.
He had leveled up.
He had gained Mana, Fighting Spirit, and Luck.
A much better situation than before, when he had nothing.
It was even better than having only Strength, or Agility, or Vitality.
While Fighting Spirit had its uses, Mana and Luck were far more versatile.
Even with immense Strength, Agility, and Vitality, he wouldn’t become an invincible god capable of slaughtering everything in his path.
True strength came from having options, from being resourceful.
That was how Aslan thought, how he lived, how he fought. And Mana and Luck were powerful tools.
‘Mana, used correctly, can replace Strength and Agility.’
He couldn’t replace Vitality, but lamenting what he didn’t have was a waste of energy.
Having reached that conclusion, Aslan finally answered her question.
“I’m fine.”
Angie’s expression clearly indicated she didn’t believe him, but when he didn’t elaborate, she simply lay back down on her bedroll.
A few moments later, she was asleep, her breathing even.
Aslan watched her for a moment, then opened the system window again, sighing.
He had a new protagonist to deal with.
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Breaking camp didn’t take long.
While they didn’t have any clocks, Aslan used the system window to track time. He woke his companions, and they set off.
They encountered few trolls after leaving their campsite. Few enough that Aslan could handle them alone, with the others providing support.
Carlson, finding this strange, commented,
“It seems… we’re seeing fewer monsters.”
“That means we’re getting closer to the exit.”
Harod, the large Dragonkin, replied to Carlson’s mumbling, looking around.
Dragonkin had poor eyesight, but their sense of touch was highly developed, giving them decent detection abilities.
Even with his enhanced senses, Harod noticed the significant decrease in troll activity.
As the number of trolls dwindled, their surroundings began to change.
The narrow tunnels widened, and moss-covered rocks appeared here and there.
Life was slowly returning.
They stopped seeing the trolls’ nests, the holes carved into the rock by their acidic blood.
They were getting closer to the escape route.
“Actually, Boss, I think it’s getting brighter…”
“You’re right. Extinguish the torches.”
Even Angie, Carlson, and Ekul, despite their lack of experience, noticed the change.
As the bald man commented on the increasing light, Aslan gave a simple order and extinguished his torch, stuffing it into his backpack. They didn’t need the light anymore, and their pace quickened.
They stopped when they finally found the escape route.
A tunnel bathed in faint light, with vines hanging down from the opening.
It was clearly a way out.
Rain was falling outside.
The rainwater trickled into the tunnel, pattering against the rocks with a refreshing sound.
Flowers bloomed beneath the vines, illuminated by the faint sunlight.
“Outside! We’re outside!”
Carlson, the bald man, let out a cry of near-hysterical joy at the sight of life, the sound of rain, and the sunlight filtering through the vines.
“I’m never setting foot in this damned cave again!”
He shouted, running towards the exit.
“That idiot…”
Harod, who had been cautiously warning his subordinates throughout their journey, chuckled, his tension finally broken.
Ekul, exhausted, was massaging his knees. Angie frowned, staring at the rain-soaked vines.
While the others relaxed, reveling in the promise of freedom,
Aslan remained vigilant, his grip tightening on his mace.
Only Aslan, knowing what was coming, was prepared to fight.
It couldn’t not appear. Not with the exit so close.
He just didn’t know when or where it would show itself.
His nerves on edge, his eyes scanned their surroundings. Several things bothered him.
Mud trolls could survive even in areas without toxic fumes.
Yet, they hadn’t come this far. They should have nested in the areas with more abundant plant life, but they had chosen the toxic areas instead.
Aslan didn’t think it was because they preferred the toxins.
It was more likely they were avoiding something.
A named monster, perhaps.
Aslan’s gaze darted around, then stopped.
A small puddle, collecting rainwater.
Something disturbed the water, sending droplets flying.
A splash.
The moment Harod flinched at the sound, Aslan lunged forward.
“Get down!”
Carlson, the bald man, turned to look at Aslan. And behind his shiny head, something appeared.
It materialized out of thin air, resembling a mud troll.
But it was only a resemblance. It wasn’t a mud troll.
Its white fur shimmered translucently in the rain filtering into the tunnel.
The creature raised a large forepaw.
Carlson, finally sensing the presence behind him, paled. His face, as well as his head, turned white.
Seeing Carlson frozen in fear, Aslan threw his mace.
–Crack!
–Growl!
The mace struck the creature’s descending forepaw, deflecting the blow.
The white-furred monster stumbled back, and Aslan reached Carlson.
Catching the rebounding mace in midair, Aslan drew his longsword with his left hand and addressed Carlson.
“Stay back.”
“Y-yes sir!”
The bald man scrambled away. The monster growled, its gaze shifting between the fleeing man and the human who had suddenly appeared.
Aslan knew this monster.
Whitescale Chrome.
A mud troll that had gained the ability to turn invisible and regained its regenerative abilities.
The so-called first mini-boss.
As the white troll lowered its stance and growled, Aslan channeled his mana.
He knew, thanks to his newly acquired Mana stat, that this would be an easy fight.
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