CHAPTER 84: OFF-SCRIPT

Marcus looked back up, his gaze flicking between the five constructs he’d summoned. Each one was starting to show cracks and damage from the relentless waves of enemies they’d been holding off. Fissures in their ethereal forms shimmered like broken glass under pressure, and their movements, once fluid and brutal, were now growing sluggish.

"Guess it’s time I should help back in the fighting, huh..." he muttered with a tired laugh, brushing soot from his forehead. He took a step forward—intending to leap into action—but his foot found no ground.

Only air.

"Wha—?"

The world dropped out from under him.

[Warning: Summon Killed]

[Warning: Summon Killed]

[Warning: Summon Killed]

[Warning: Summon Killed]

[Warning: Summon Killed]

With a startled yelp, Marcus plummeted through the space between layers of reality, his body twisting mid-fall as gravity pulled him toward a realm he hadn’t expected to enter—not like this. Below, two familiar figures stood watching: Cynthia, arms folded in practiced exasperation, and a tall blue-haired man radiating an almost divine pressure.

"Is that... Tyr?" Marcus mumbled through the wind rushing past his face. "The late-game NPC? No freaking way..."

For a second, he forgot he was hurtling toward the ground at lethal speed.

’Let’s ignore the elephant in the plot for now...’ he thought dryly.

With reflexes honed by both desperation and experience, Marcus clapped his hands together. Flames burst from the soles of his boots, roaring into unstable jets of fire. The magic sputtered—his mana still recovering—but it was just enough to halt his fall before impact.

He hovered awkwardly, barely keeping balance as the fire danced erratically beneath his feet like untamed spirits. Then, with a final push, he launched forward in a wobbling arc and crash-landed a few feet from Cynthia and Tyr. The landing wasn’t graceful—but it worked.

Dust puffed up.

He stumbled slightly, catching his breath, chest heaving. "So... you passed the trial, huh..." he managed, voice winded, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a tired smirk.

Cynthia blinked, clearly caught off guard. Tyr tilted his head, mirroring her surprise. Both of them stared at him with matching expressions of mild confusion and intrigue.

"How’d you know...?" Cynthia asked, brows raised, a confused smile tugging at her lips.

Marcus froze. Crap.

Tyr let out a deep, amused chuckle, the kind that echoed in the air like low thunder. He reached over and ruffled Marcus’ hair with the casual ease of an elder messing with a precocious child.

"Intriguing," the elf said, eyes gleaming with something ancient and sharp. "I can sense you know more than you let on."

Marcus’s jaw dropped slightly.

’Dammit... again? The hell is wrong with me lately!? I’ve been slipping up left and right—it’s so unlike me...’

His brows furrowed, irritation flickering in his chest like embers.

’It’s probably this body... yeah, I’ll blame the reincarnation mechanics later.’

"Lucky guess..." Marcus muttered, waving a hand. "I was stuck in some weird water realm, and you literally look like the ocean decided to cosplay as a human. Pretty easy connection."

Cynthia narrowed her eyes but smiled, clearly not convinced—but not interested enough to argue. "Well... I guess that kind of makes sense. Sort of. Huge leap of logic though."

"That reminds me," Tyr interjected, voice thoughtful now as he placed a hand on his chin. "While you two certainly seem capable, you’re not strong enough—yet—to defeat the Wyrm that guarded this place. So tell me... how did you manage it?"

His tone was curious, not accusatory. A scholar seeking knowledge. A creator checking his puzzle’s solution.

And it made sense.

This entire realm—this hidden trial—wasn’t meant to be accessible. Not yet. In the original game, this content only unlocked after the appearance of the first major antagonist. It was meant to be a climax point, not an early detour.

But this wasn’t a game anymore.

Reality didn’t wait for level thresholds.

They’d stumbled in early. Too early. The only reason they survived was pure luck—specifically, the intervention of another overpowered late-game entity that dealt with the Wyrm in their place.

Still, Marcus didn’t have the clearest memory of it. This wasn’t even his favorite game, after all. He only remembered bits and pieces. Trivia. Data.

Cynthia answered first. "We didn’t beat it," she admitted bluntly. "Someone else did."

Tyr’s long, pointed ears twitched slightly at the reply. He looked pleasantly surprised. "Really? So even someone outside my bloodline could fell that beast? Hm... seems this generation has more hidden talent than I expected."

Cynthia, never one to dwell, cut to the point. "So... did I finish the trial?"

Tyr let out a long sigh, almost theatrical. "You meet the origin of your bloodline for the first time in centuries and already you’re thinking about progress reports?"

He snapped his fingers, and the air shimmered.

The moon above them pulsed with light, and in response, a tall, ornate door slowly materialized in the distance. It glowed with faint celestial runes, anchored in moonlight and arcane patterns.

"It leads to the end of this dungeon," Tyr explained. "But tread carefully. Another beast has taken residence in the final chamber. Not as powerful as the Wyrm—but troublesome nonetheless."

Marcus exhaled sharply, clearly done with today’s rollercoaster. "Great. One last headache. Then I can finally rest..." he muttered, dragging his feet toward the portal like a tired student on finals week.

Cynthia lingered behind for a second, her gaze resting on Tyr. "Wait—what was the reward for all this?" she asked. "The other two trials gave me power, insight. What about this one?"

Tyr chuckled softly, clasping his hands behind his back like a grandfather reminiscing. "Your reward... was meeting me. That alone holds more value than power, don’t you think?" he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Though I’ll admit—I didn’t expect my descendant to be human. Strange, but delightful."

Cynthia laughed, shaking her head. "Hope we get to meet again," she said, waving over her shoulder.

Tyr returned the gesture, his smile serene. "We shall. This place has fulfilled its purpose. There’s no reason for it to remain."

Together, Marcus and Cynthia stepped through the door—skipping the rest of the dungeon and heading straight for its final challenge.

The end of Cynthia’s trial had come.

Her ascension—finally marked.