Laglan's lips curled into a sly grin, his confidence practically radiating.
In a different place, far removed from Laglan's scheming, a crowd of bewildered individuals milled about, their faces etched with confusion. Some among them had been rounded up, herded together like lost sheep.
They were told they needed to organize themselves into groups.
"Are you kidding me? This is absurd," a man exclaimed, his voice dripping with disbelief.
"Absolutely, it's true," another chimed in, shaking his head vigorously. "I swear, I have no connection whatsoever to this nonsense."
The atmosphere quickly spiraled into disorder, a chaotic jumble of raised voices and restless movement.
"Very well, if that's how things are going to be," a voice cut through the clamor, "allow me to reintroduce myself, just to clarify matters."
"I am the announcer, your guide in this peculiar affair."
If anything, his words only fanned the flames of unrest, and the situation grew even more uncontrollable.
"So, what's the deal then?" someone shouted from the crowd, their tone sharp with suspicion.
The announcer's voice boomed in response: "The team that emerges victorious will have the freedom to do whatever they please with the losing team."
A ripple of skepticism passed through the crowd, many exchanging doubtful glances.
What followed was a disorganized melee, people lashing out without any clear purpose or direction.
Those who wanted no part in the madness tilted their heads skyward, distracted by a sudden, earth-shaking roar.
Above them loomed a massive floating island, suspended in the air as if defying gravity itself.
The announcer let out a hearty laugh, and in the blink of an eye, everyone found themselves whisked away, now standing on the surface of that very floating island.
"Please, everyone, remain calm!" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the strange terrain.
"For those of you who have no interest in participating, you're welcome to leap off the edge."
Not a single soul dared to take that plunge.
"Hey, hold on a second—how are we supposed to get back to where we came from?" a voice called out, tinged with desperation.
"It's quite simple," the announcer replied smoothly. "All you need to do is clear the game. In other words, see it through to the end."
He paused for effect before continuing, "Indeed, you are the chosen ones. The first 100 players to complete this game will be rewarded with a truly extraordinary prize."
"Wait, so this is some kind of game world?" The question hung in the air as confusion deepened among the crowd.
They began to take in their surroundings, slowly piecing together where they were. This was Shout Island, a notorious location known as one of the early spawning grounds for a special boss in the game.
Vines slithered across the ground like living things, and the trees around them seemed to wear eerie, almost mocking smiles.
From the shadows of those twisted trees stepped a man clad in white garments, now stained and tattered. In his hand was a sword that every person there recognized instantly.
With startling speed, the man broke into a run and hurled himself off the island's edge, plummeting below.
At that precise moment, the figure everyone had been waiting to see finally appeared.
The announcer, now visibly enraged, waved his hand, and in an instant, everyone was teleported back to the ground below.
"Listen closely," he growled. "This is a new side quest. Your task is to retrieve that sword from the man who took it."
"A side quest, you say?" someone muttered from the crowd, their curiosity piqued.
Those enticed by the promise of rewards didn't hesitate. They took off after the man, chasing him with reckless determination.
He was fast—impossibly so—sprinting without pause and leaping over obstacles with the agility of a seasoned warrior.
Meanwhile, in another part of this strange world, Laglan had just managed to scale a sheer cliff to reach the floating island's surface.
"Well, well, looks like it's just you and me, Vandegra," he said, his voice brimming with defiance as he faced the special boss.
Vandegra, provoked by the challenge, lunged forward, striking with a vicious elbow.
Vandegra was no ordinary foe. Known as Vandegra the Blasphemous Knight, he was a special boss armed with a deadly sharp appendage that served as one of his primary weapons.
Laglan leapt into action.
"I'm going for a counterattack," he declared, his eyes narrowing with focus.
He swung at Vandegra's arm, but the limb was as hard as steel, unyielding.
Quick on his feet, Laglan dodged and hurled a rock at his opponent.
Vandegra swatted it away effortlessly, then summoned a cluster of sharp roots that erupted from the ground.
Options:
1) Block the roots, 2) Dodge, 3) Counterattack, plus nine additional choices he barely had time to consider.
"Alright, let's do this," he muttered.
With a swift motion, he slashed through the roots with his sword, severing them cleanly.
But in his focus, he misjudged a step, and one of the roots pierced his side.
"Damn, I forgot how much that stings," he said through a pained grin.
"My turn now."
"I've got your patterns memorized, Vandegra."
Vandegra charged with ferocious intent.
Laglan responded with a well-placed kick, followed by a sweeping sideways slash.
He nimbly avoided Vandegra's elbow strike and thrust his sword forward in a stabbing motion.
The clash was intense. Laglan managed to slice through one of Vandegra's legs, knowing full well that the boss would soon unleash a frenzied assault. To avoid being overwhelmed, Laglan chose to fall back.
Vandegra retaliated with a volley of sharp, stinging roots that shot toward him like arrows.
"Hell no!" Laglan cursed.
"Oh, damn it, I fell for that one."
options:
1) Curl up defensively, 2) Give up entirely, 3) Throw another rock, 4) Run.
"These choices are garbage," he grumbled, frustration mounting.
But before he could act, Vandegra's focus shifted abruptly.
Laglan's memory clicked into place—Vandegra was supposed to wield a sword. If he didn't have it, someone must have stolen it.
Seizing the opportunity, Vandegra abandoned the fight and tore down the hill, racing to reclaim his weapon.
Laglan, ever cautious, took the chance to catch his breath, though he remained on high alert.
Down below, pandemonium erupted as the crowd caught sight of Vandegra charging toward them.
The boss was after his stolen sword, and even the slightest contact with his venomous thorns left people paralyzed in agony.
Yet the man who held Vandegra's sword was a force to be reckoned with. He dodged every attack with uncanny precision, weaving through the onslaught of roots and thorns.
With a series of accurate slashes, he cut down Vandegra's roots, darting from one spot to another.
At last, he executed a devastating spinning attack, slicing clean through half of Vandegra's body in a single motion.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, standing tall amidst the chaos.
"Whoa, who are you?" the crowd gasped in awe.
"The name's Zephyr," he replied coolly.
"Your level must be insane!" someone exclaimed.
"Indeed. I'm at level 34 now," Zephyr said with a faint smirk.
From his vantage point above, Laglan watched the spectacle unfold, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Without wasting another moment, he set off, his mind already on his next move.
He sought out the announcer, determined to bend the situation to his advantage.
"Hey, you're the announcer, aren't you?" he called out, striding forward with purpose.
"And who might you be?" the announcer asked, visibly puzzled by the bold newcomer.
"Teleport me down there, quick! I want to be part of the action!" Laglan demanded.
"You've got some nerve, kid," the announcer said, narrowing his eyes.
"What, you want to fight me?" Laglan shot back, unfazed.
"No, no, let's not get carried away," the announcer replied hastily.
"Fine, if that's what you're after, I'll grant your wish."
With a wave of his hand, the announcer teleported Laglan.
"Still too far," Laglan complained. "Get me closer to the others."
"You impudent little—do you realize I could end you right here and now?" the announcer barked, his patience wearing thin.
"Come on, relax. I'm one of your registered players, aren't I?" Laglan said with a sly wink.
The announcer sighed. "Fine. What's your name? I want to remember you."
"Laglan L. Lepletts," he replied smoothly.
"Very well," the announcer muttered, teleporting Laglan once more.
Somehow, through sheer audacity, Laglan had managed to manipulate the announcer.
He materialized right in the heart of the crowd, and without hesitation, he drove his sword into one of the unsuspecting players.
With a dramatic flourish, Laglan bid them farewell, snatching the sword and vanishing into the chaos.
The announcer, caught completely off guard, hadn't anticipated this turn of events.
Special side quest:
The Blasphemous Sword has been stolen. The Scourge Harbinger worships the dark tree, and the Fairy King is poised to rise once more. Defy your fate as a follower of darkness.
Options:
1) Yes, 2) No.
"This," Laglan whispered to himself, his eyes gleaming, "is exactly what I've been waiting for."