Chapter 4: The Knight's Appearance (2)

I walked alone through the alleyways of the night city.

I had parted ways with the workers quickly.

Their fear-filled gazes made it awkward to stay together.

As I trudged through the alley, I lifted my head.

Though the night street was empty, it was not dark. Unlike the abandoned factory area with its lights out, this place was filled with light.

I could see tall buildings standing in the distance.

"Tirna."

I uttered the name of the city.

Tirna was, as the name suggested, a massive city. While its architectural style suggested a 19th-century setting, it felt much more advanced.

Seeing the distant, light-filled buildings made me feel a mix of emotions.

The games I enjoyed were medieval fantasy games.

But the landscape before me was no different from the modern era.

From the medieval to the modern era, it must have been several hundred years.

Given that the original setting was based on a 14th-century medieval feel, it could have been nearly 500 years.

Good heavens, 500 years. And that's the minimum.

This place is both the world I know and not the world I know.

Over 500 years, countless dungeons, ruins, and boss monsters must have been reduced to dust by the passage of time.

I was already at a loss for what to do.

It's hard to claim I know this world when I'm in this situation.

The only thing I can rely on is my incredibly sturdy body.

'But where am I, anyway?'

I can see bullets flying and cut them with my sword.

Just that alone puts me almost in the realm of a superhuman.

'My character in the game is at max level. As a knight, I maxed out all the stats I could.'

In this game, the six main stats are [Strength], [Agility], [Vitality], [Spirit], [Intelligence], and [Faith].

The higher the strength, the stronger the melee weapon's attack power and the easier it is to wear heavy weapons and armor. Naturally, it's the main stat for a wandering knight.

Vitality makes it even easier.

I am a wandering knight, so I have a natural limitation and can't max out all stats.

All stats can be maxed out to 99.

And my character maxed out all six stats except for Intelligence.

And that's who I am now.

'It's fortunate that I'm not so weak that I'd die from a random fight on the street.'

But I can't be complacent.

Humans are one thing, but monsters are different.

This game is crazy; even at max level, you can die from a random mob on the street.

And the problem from now on is what to do.

There must be a reason I was sucked into this world.

In other words, there must be a way to return.

I need to find the cause and reason.

With a single sword.

In a city filled with steel, mechanical gears, steam, and gunpowder.

Rumble!

At that moment, a loud noise from my armor's belt made me stop walking.

I realized I hadn't put anything in my mouth since I arrived here, not even a sip of water.

In the game, there's no hunger system, so there's no need to eat, but in reality, it's different.

I'm hungry and thirsty. Even a max-level character can't survive without food.

Especially this body, full of tight muscles, consumes a massive amount of energy with even a little movement, requiring a lot of food.

'...First, I need to eat.'

*

A tavern in Tirna.

Ding!

The bell on the door rang as a customer entered.

The noisy tavern fell silent.

People who were clinking their beer-filled mugs and chatting loudly turned their gazes to the newcomer.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Under normal circumstances, they would have thought the person was just there for food or drink, but this customer was excessively unique in appearance.

The customer was a knight in full armor, something rare in this era, and almost impossible to see anywhere.

Clank. Clank.

The sound of metal clashing was heard with each step.

The only part not covered by armor was his head, revealing a face with pale skin, black hair, and a handsome, aristocratic appearance that suggested he came from a wealthy family.

The armored young man, Ossian, plopped down on a chair at the bar.

Everyone stared at the scene.

Some wondered if they were seeing things because they were too drunk.

Ossian took out the money he had stolen from the gang.

"Hey, bartender. I'll order something."

The moment he spoke in a charismatic, youthful voice, everyone in the tavern realized this was real.

Murmurs filled the air.

"What's that?"

"A knight? Or a crazy person obsessed with knights?"

"Is he insane? Who wears armor these days?"

This tavern was a place where mercenaries and problem solvers gathered.

As a result, some were analyzing the knight, while others showed hostility towards his peculiar behavior.

Ossian, sensing the hostility, looked around the tavern.

Swoosh.

He showed his sword, which was sheathed at his side, to those who were glaring at him.

- I have a sword. Are you still going to mess with me?

Ossian's actions spoke for him.

In response, some of the mercenaries who were glaring at him pulled out their pistols and placed them on the table.

- Oh, we have guns. What are you going to do about it?

That's what they were saying.

"Um."

Ossian, realizing his mistake, naturally turned his head to face the front.

Ossian didn't bother to explain that he could cut bullets with his sword and dodge them with his dynamic vision.

There was no need to, and they wouldn't believe him anyway.

The mercenaries who had drawn their guns laughed, misinterpreting Ossian's action.

Ossian knew this but didn't argue, just waiting for his food.

"Here's your order."

In front of Ossian, a steaming plate of seasoned lamb, butter and cheese-covered bread, and vegetable soup were placed.

Ossian looked at them with excitement and then looked up at the bartender.

"Where's the drink? Shouldn't it come with the food?"

Ossian said this, but he didn't really mean it.

This was more of a physical reaction from Ossian's body, which craved alcohol.

Despite his arrogant tone, the elderly bartender asked without any concern.

"What would you like?"

"The strongest one."

"Got it."

The bartender took a bottle with a skull mark from a shelf filled with bottles and poured it into a clear glass.

Ossian involuntarily swallowed when he saw the crimson liquid.

Just as he was about to take his first sip in this harsh world, three mercenaries who had been smiling at him earlier approached with grins on their faces.

"Hey, buddy. You gonna share that delicious food with us?"

Ossian paused, his hand reaching for the glass.

The other customers watched with interest.

"The Dutri brothers."

"That weirdo's out of luck. He just had to come in when those scoundrels are here."

The three men, with similar faces, were clearly brothers.

The Dutri brothers were mercenaries who earned their living in the underworld.

They had a certain reputation as mercenaries, but it wasn't a good one, as anyone could tell from the comments around them.

Ossian slowly turned his head to look at the eldest brother who had spoken to him.

"Do you have something to say to me?"

"Something to say? I'm just curious. Why did such a noble knight suddenly come to a place like this?"

The eldest brother said this and then snatched the glass Ossian was about to drink from, gulping it down in one go.

"Ugh! It's damn strong."

"That's my drink, though."

"I thought our bookish knight couldn't handle it, so I drank it for you. Aren't you grateful?"

The second and third brothers chuckled at the eldest's words.

Ossian's expression turned cold.

With a heavy expression, Ossian spoke.

"You approached me to insult me."

At this, the Dutri brothers looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Hahaha!

The laughter echoed throughout the tavern, not just from the brothers.

Ossian's use of high-sounding language and his belated realization that he was being provoked were just too funny.

But Ossian, undeterred by the situation, spoke in a serious tone.

"I am in a good mood now. I will overlook your rudeness out of my generosity, so go about your business."

"Ha, this guy."

The eldest brother, displeased with Ossian's considerate words, laughed sarcastically.

"Still don't get the situation? Hey, buddy. I don't know what you're thinking, coming here in that ridiculous outfit, but the circus is elsewhere. Get lost."

"..."

"What are you going to do, glaring at me like that? Look at him, raising his eyebrows. Are you going to draw that fancy sword on your hip?"

The eldest brother reached out to Ossian as he spoke.

However, he didn't touch Ossian's armor.

Ossian's fist hit his face faster.

The eldest brother's face caved in from the punch. His nose broke, and his teeth scattered with blood.

He flew across the tavern, breaking the door and landing outside.

The customers, who had been laughing, stopped in disbelief at the sight of him being thrown out with a single punch.

"..."

"..."

Their gazes alternated between Ossian, who had thrown the punch, and the broken door.

'Did he just throw someone that far with a punch?'

'Considering the eldest brother's size, he must weigh at least 90 kilograms.'

As everyone watched in confusion, the remaining two brothers reacted.

"Brother!"

"You son of a bitch!"

The second and third brothers simultaneously drew their shotguns from their waists.

These were shotguns designed to blast enemies apart at close range.

The time it took for the brothers to draw their guns and pull the triggers was less than a second.

And that time was more than enough for Ossian to draw his sword and swing it twice.

Thud. Thud.

"Huh?"

"What the...?"

The second and third brothers stared in shock at their guns, which had been cut and were rolling on the floor.

The cut surfaces of the guns were smooth, as if sliced by a sharp blade.

Before the brothers could process what had happened, Ossian, who had sheathed his sword, threw a punch.

Bang! Bang!

A clean one-two punch.

The second and third brothers, like their eldest brother, flew out of the tavern after being hit in the face.

The tavern fell silent again.

Everyone was amazed or impressed by Ossian's unbelievable physical abilities and martial prowess.

Ossian, who had caused the scene, casually said to the bartender, who was staring at him.

"Charge those three for the broken door."

The bartender, who had been expressionless, nodded in a dazed manner.

Ossian then continued, "I'll be on my way."