The plaza in front of the Holy Candlelight Church was as crowded as ever.
But unlike usual, there were far fewer players mingling in the crowd.
Most had realized that the church’s questline wasn’t something that could be triggered casually.
Waiting around any longer was simply a waste of time.
In contrast, the majority of the crowd was made up of devout believers.
Today was the church’s holy day of worship.
Since the sacred number of the Glorious Light was seven, the seventh day of each week had been designated as a day of prayer.
Yet among this devout congregation, one group clearly stood out like a sore thumb.
“Brother Zhu, are you sure the NPC said the church entrance? Not somewhere else?”
“Yeah, there are way too many people here.”
“What happened to ‘high noon’? It’s already edging into the afternoon.”
“Come on, do I look like the kind of guy who skips reading quest descriptions?”
Zhu was clearly annoyed, just about ready to lecture them all.
“Apologies. I was delayed by something.”
A calm voice interjected, and Zhu turned around—only to see the figure everyone had been waiting for.
She was still hidden beneath that oversized cloak, concealing her entire figure.
Though the sun was blazing overhead, it was impossible to make out her face beneath the hood, as though an invisible veil blurred her features.
The more Zhu tried to focus, the more a sense of unease clawed at him—like peering into that darkness would swallow him whole.
After completing the final ritual yesterday, Li Wen had spent the entire night meditating to recover her mana.
Only just now had it fully returned.
Since she wasn’t of a mage class, her regeneration rate was far slower than average.
Sweeping her gaze over the group, she counted five players—three men and two women.
One of them, a tall young woman, was someone she had seen yesterday.
The rest looked like standard adventurer types, with the kind of haphazard gear that screamed “beginner.”
Their class levels were likely unimpressive.
Not that it mattered.
Li Wen wasn’t looking for teammates—she needed cannon fodder.
“To make sure this operation goes smoothly, you’ll need to follow my instructions exactly. Is that clear?”
The others all glanced toward the tall woman, who seemed to be the de facto leader of the group.
“No problem,” the woman replied, “but we need to get one thing straight first.”
Li Wen nodded in agreement.
“We’re not doing this for free. You’ll need to spell out the payment first.”
Of course players wouldn’t be easy to manipulate—Li Wen had expected as much.
“That depends on you. Follow my orders and you’ll be well compensated. But if all you do is get in the way, then don’t expect anything.”
So it was based on performance?
That actually suited Zhu perfectly.
She loved this kind of reward system.
A sliding scale meant a low floor but a potentially sky-high ceiling.
If she did well enough, she might earn rewards well above her current level.
That’s how it worked in most games she played, at least.
It also meant the quest could be absurdly difficult.
But this was Zhu we were talking about—when had a player ever backed down because a quest was too hard?
As long as the rewards were good enough, they’d slay dragons if they had to.
“Pleasure working with you!”
Zhu said brightly, not even bothering to ask what the quest entailed.
She extended her hand.
“I’m Zhu. These are my companions…”
“Pleasure working with you. Call me Mephist.”
Li Wen shook her hand as well, though inwardly she was stunned.
The name “Zhu”—if it wasn’t just a coincidence—wasn’t one she could ignore.
Li Wen had never met her before, but in her past life, she’d heard the name often.
After the mass isekai of all players, there were three legendary events that defined the early years of their existence.
One of them was the now-famous “Founding of a Nation” incident.
In those chaotic early days, players were feared and hated by the native inhabitants.
To them, players were endless, undying pests—barely any different from demons crawling out of the abyss.
As a result, most lawful nations and factions wanted nothing to do with them.
Many players had no safe place to settle after their arrival.
That was when a group of powerful lone players, unaffiliated with any faction, rose up.
After the fall of the Arthurian Kingdom, they seized part of its territory with sheer force of will.
Then, in a climactic battle against the Shadow Legion of the Dusken Dawn, they emerged victorious—and from that battle, the first player-led nation was born.
And among that elite roster of players, the name Zhu stood prominently near the top.
What Li Wen remembered most was hearing that in that final battle—the so-called War of Founding—Zhu had single-handedly held back nearly a third of the Shadow Legion’s entire force, almost breaking them by herself.
At that time, Li Wen could barely even handle a single grunt from that legion.
Remembering this, Li Wen gave Zhu a few extra glances—but couldn’t spot anything extraordinary about her.
Then again, judging someone by their looks was foolish.
She adjusted her mindset.
“Let’s go. We’re headed to the West District,” she said, taking the lead.
“The West District? But isn’t the exit to the north?”
Zhu asked, puzzled.
The server had only been live for two days, and she hadn’t done much aside from learning the map.
But when it came to knowledge of Ark Town and its surrounding areas, Zhu was probably the most familiar player around.
Li Wen stopped walking and turned back to look over Zhu and her companions.
They were clearly new players—low levels, and not a single solid piece of equipment between them.
It was all basic starter gear or stuff of unknown origin.
Just by looking, she could tell it was all sub-common grade.
“We’re going to get you outfitted first.”
“I’m not expecting you to be much help, but if you all die instantly, I’ll be in trouble too.”
“Don’t worry—I’ll cover the cost.”
“If you die too fast, consider the gear your payment.”
Zhu’s eyes lit up.
A full set of gear for each player, just as a starting bonus?
This quest was incredible!
“Great, great! Everything’s fine—we’ll do whatever you say!”
As for Li Wen’s phrasing—“if you all die instantly,” “if you die too fast”—Zhu had mentally filtered that out entirely.
Please.
What player’s afraid of dying?
Zhu quickly took the lead, not only because she knew the layout, but also because she knew which smithies and tailors had the best deals.
She had truly mastered the streets of Ark Town.
Along the way, Li Wen asked about everyone’s classes and levels.
The three male players consisted of a Level 2 Guardian and two Level 2 Warriors.
The other girl was a Level 1 Hunter—all basic starting classes.
As for Zhu?
She hadn’t even picked a class yet.
Still at Level 0, completely classless.
She might as well have had “I have high standards” written on her forehead.
That was the smart move.
Basic classes capped at Level 10, and the class-switching system in the game was notoriously unforgiving.
If players wanted to switch to a Path class later, they’d have to accept the penalties of dual-classing—yet without even receiving a proper second class in return.
It was a terrible trade-off.
Plenty of players rushed into basic classes early, only to realize too late how hard it was to switch later.
Some deleted their characters in frustration; others stubbornly dual-classed and suffered the penalties.
Now Li Wen couldn’t help but think again of the Zhu from her past life.
Rumor had it her final class was the Bloodhowl Berserker, a conqueror’s path specialization infamous as the “meat grinder of the battlefield.”
No wonder she had risen to the top.
Clearly, she had a deep understanding of how the game worked.
Tftc!