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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Simzy
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Magician.
That was what some magic-wielding players called them, but in truth, those who bore that title were a distinct group.
Einheart. A force that, along with Silver, divided the world. Among Einheart’s key strengths were its special individuals—its magicians. Despite Einheart’s relatively weaker military power, it remained a formidable force, and those magicians were a major reason why.
“Magician, found.”
Lee Rowoon had asked the Black Market King to locate a magician.
“There are magicians in Black Market as well, but I didn’t think that would be enough,” Lee Rowoon had said. The magician he sought had to be someone expendable—someone useful but disposable. More importantly, they needed to be well-versed in magic circles.
And most crucially—
Not a magic-type player, but a Circle Magician.
Magicians were said to be common in Einheart’s territory but were rarely found in South Korea, within Silver’s domain. Given the ongoing war between Einheart and Silver, if an Einheart magician were to surface here—
They’d be captured and executed immediately.
Even so, the magician’s worth was undeniable. In Silver’s sphere of influence, the larger guilds had magicians, though their treatment was far from ideal.
The Blood Cult doesn’t even have that.
They had elders who called monsters yokai—so what was there to discuss?
“I found someone who perfectly matches the Blood Demon’s requirements,” the Black Market King declared with confidence.
Lee Rowoon’s interest was piqued. “It seems to be someone I know.”
The Black Market King bit his lip at that.
“…Indeed,” he admitted. “They weren’t an opponent to be taken lightly.”
He had expected as much.
The Black Market King knew about his past.
Player Lee Rowoon.
However, there were likely many details he couldn’t be certain of. Records of his time as a slave were scarce, and with two rebirths, much had changed—his fingerprints, his dental structure—everything that could have tied him to the Lee Rowoon of the past was gone.
All that remained was suspicion.
The Black Market King likely wanted to confirm whether Lee Rowoon was truly the same Player Lee Rowoon from back then.
There weren’t many magicians he had been connected to. But among them, one name came to mind immediately.
“Bondenoi, is it?”
“That’s correct.”
Lee Rowoon closed his eyes for a moment.
I thought he was dead.
Indeed, the magician the Black Market King had found was tied to his past self—a distant past, a faint spark buried in the ashes of memory.
“But there’s a problem.”
“A problem?”
The Black Market King nodded.
“Bondenoi’s dungeon, Armo’s location, has been discovered.”
A fiery light flickered in Lee Rowoon’s eyes.
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Ganghwa Island.
One of the top three guilds in South Korea and a high-ranking territory within the Silver faction—the domain of the Haenam Guild. Nearly a hundred people had gathered there.
“Pleased to meet you all.”
A white-haired old man greeted them, performing a fist and palm salute with a hearty expression.
“I am Yuk Sagul, one of the elders of the Haenam Guild.”
A murmur spread through the gathered crowd.
“Oh! Yuk Sagul, that means…”
“Isn’t that Swift Sword?”
“We greet Elder Yuk Sagul!”
The martial artists returned the fist and palm salute, bowing deeply. They, too, were residents of Silver—martial artists from guilds across the region who had gathered at the Haenam Guild’s call. They cheered at the presence of the influential figure, Yuk Sagul.
But not everyone was pleased.
“…….”
Some remained silent, watching cautiously.
“Damn it. If he’s an elder, how much of a pain will he be?”
“What can we do? We have to follow their orders.”
These were guilds that operated within Ganghwa Island, Incheon, and Bucheon—territories under Haenam’s influence. But unlike the others…
“How noisy.”
“As if barbarians like you…”
They were player guilds.
“…….”
The players fell silent at the martial artists’ words.
A changed world.
People always said—
‘I wish I could become a player.’
They dreamed of gaining superhuman abilities, amassing great wealth, standing out, earning fame. They believed that simply becoming a player would grant them all these things.
“Damn it.”
It was all nonsense.
The leader of the Gyodong Guild—one of the four player guilds summoned by the Haenam Guild—muttered under his breath. He had once believed that becoming a player would change his life.
And in a way, it had.
He had accumulated more wealth. He had gained more recognition than ever before.
But reality was different.
They’re just dogs.
To the residents of Silver, players were never equals. Ordinary people, the so-called commoners, were tolerated without much discrimination. But players?
Barbarians. Butchers.
As if this were still the Joseon Dynasty.
There was a reason they despised players.
What is a martial artist?
“Those who cultivate internal energy after long contemplation and study to attain enlightenment.”
That’s how they would put it.
But players?
“They only know how to beat down monsters, and they don’t even know their place.”
“Still, it’s fortunate that their bodies are strong. Yes.”
“Do we have to take those guys along this time too?”
They only grew stronger through hunting.
There were players who swung their swords a hundred, a thousand times, training relentlessly. But no matter how much they trained, their stats wouldn’t increase by a single point, and no new skills would be created. It wasn’t that they gained nothing at all—but in the end, for players to grow, they had to hunt.
So how did they appear to those who called themselves martial artists?
‘Ma’ (Demon).
To them, players were no different from those who practiced demonic arts—the very ones they despised and sought to eliminate.
In fact, when the Silver world first merged with Earth and martial artists encountered players, they outright hunted them, calling them members of the Demonic cult.
Now, the Assembly was suppressing such actions, but the underlying contempt and scorn remained.
And it would never disappear.
The Assembly is actually tolerating it.
The Assembly. The Martial Arts Association.
They weren’t just above the Player Association—they were the ruling body of Silver, dominating all of Asia.
And they would never allow players to stand on equal footing with martial artists.
Not now. Not ever.
“In this subjugation, we will play the role of scouts. But! I have no doubt that we alone can wipe out all of those demonic hordes!”
Yuk Sagul’s voice rang out with conviction.
Meanwhile, separate from the main group, Kang Cheol-woo—the guild leader of the Gyodong Guild and the one leading the players this time—gathered only the players and spoke.
“What he said is true. I don’t know about wiping them out, but we’re playing the role of scouts this time.”
Scouting—stepping forward to gather information.
That was their role.
The reason they had all been summoned this time was simple.
Armo.
An Einheart dungeon had appeared in South Korea—deep within Silver’s sphere of influence. And this mission was to subjugate it.
“The dungeon isn’t that big, and its overall composition isn’t too high,” Kang Cheol-woo began.
Then, suddenly—his face twisted.
“But we’ll have to do all the work. Don’t make any mistakes.”
Because they were dogs.
Players.
Maybe things were different in Einheart’s domain, but here, in Silver’s territory, they were ultimately slaves.
The chains were just longer. The scraps thrown to them, slightly bigger.
But still—resistance was impossible.
Players had long since submitted to that power.
“And…” Kang Cheol-woo’s gaze shifted toward a particular section of the gathered players.
“The Dark shadow Guild, was it?”
An unknown guild that had abruptly announced its participation just before the subjugation summons ended.
Normally, unvetted outsiders wouldn’t be allowed in a mission like this. But—
Damn Haenam Guild.
He had heard that a high-ranking member of the Haenam Guild had personally forced them in at the last minute.
“Let’s not cause problems with the other dogs.”
“Understood.”
A voice, somewhat restrained.
Kang Cheol-woo shuddered as his eyes landed on the black-haired man who had spoken.
“Ahem. Well, anyway…”
Meanwhile, Yuk Sagul’s long speech was finally drawing to a close.
“Don’t die.”
The Armo subjugation force totaled one hundred people—sixty martial artists and forty players.
Most of the martial artists were first-rate to peak-level, and the players weren’t weak either. It was, as Yuk Sagul had claimed, a force capable of more than just scouting. They could subjugate the dungeon outright.
Furthermore—
“This damned demonic world is disgustingly hideous.”
At the forefront stood an old man, gripping a bluish sword.
A master of the Transcendent Realm.
Transcendent Realm.
Among players, it was a title given to only about ten thousand individuals per sphere of influence.
Ten thousand might sound like a lot, but in a world where players numbered nearly a hundred million, they were an elite minority—less than one percent of the total.
And since martial artists were typically rated one or two levels above players, Yuk Sagul was a powerhouse. A man strong enough to take on several rankers at once.
Whoosh.
The sword in his hand pulsed with a swirling blue aura.
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Dungeon Armo.
The dungeons of Einheart’s magician forces often took the shape of true, underground dungeons.
Therefore, even if the world wasn’t vast, it was notoriously difficult. The dungeon took the form of a complex underground maze.
Swoooosh!
Yuk Sagul swung his sword in a horizontal arc, a sharp tearing sound slicing through the air.
Koo-oong!
The sword energy he unleashed struck the maze wall, and in an instant, the sturdy stone collapsed as though it had been smashed by a giant’s fist.
“Indeed, it’s the Sasaeparang Sword of Haenam!”
“They say all of the Swift Sword’s techniques are contained within it!”
The Sasaeparang Sword—a rising sword technique passed down only to the direct descendants of the Haenam Guild. Even walls resistant to magic crumbled before a single strike.
“Lead the way and check it out!”
At Yuk Sagul’s command, Kang Cheol-woo and the players began moving. Just as they were about to step through the collapsed wall—
Ooooooo!
A deep, ominous resonance rang out.
Whoo-ooo-oong!
A searing heat spread through the passage. Thick, acrid smoke filled the air.
“Cough, cough!”
Some players coughed violently, while the martial artists swiftly emitted qi to disperse the smoke.
“Keuk…”
Several players groaned, having been caught in the explosion.
“You fools. You couldn’t even dodge something so simple?”
Yuk Sagul’s voice, laced with irritation, echoed through the cavern.
“Stop whining and check for other traps.”
Fortunately, no one had died.
Kang Cheol-woo distributed potions to the injured while scanning the area.
“N-nothing unusual,” came a low-voiced report.
“That’s fortunate. Let’s move.”
The martial artists advanced only after confirming the players’ safety.
Hoo…
Kang Cheol-woo took a deep breath, drinking a potion himself before addressing the players.
“Are you okay?”
“How could we be okay…”
Burns and scorched wounds were visible on many. Kang Cheol-woo scowled at the sight, but—
“Rest here for a moment before moving on. Kang Cheol-woo, check the passage,” Yuk Sagul ordered.
Looking around, Kang Cheol-woo noted that most of the players had been injured by the blast. But then—
‘Dark shadow Guild?’
The last-minute additions to the subjugation team.
‘Did they have some kind of protective artifact?’
They didn’t look particularly well-equipped, yet none of them seemed injured. Among them, a man with a languid expression, as if half-asleep, stood out.
“You there. Follow me for a moment.”
At Kang Cheol-woo’s words, the man—Lee Rowoon—moved at a leisurely pace.
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