CHAPTER 7: THE QUEST

Chapter 7 – The QUEST

The door creaked as I pushed it open. The familiar wooden scent of the inn’s main hall washed over me, blending with the faint aroma of stew and freshly baked bread. Compared to the suffocating gloom of the dungeon, this place felt like a sanctuary. The lanternlight glowed warm and steady, casting away shadows that clung to me even after leaving that forsaken place.

Before I could even step further inside, a cheerful voice rang out.

"Oh, Michael! Where have you been the last two days?"

I turned toward the source—the innkeeper’s wife, a plump woman with bright brown eyes and a motherly smile that could soften stone. She dried her hands on an apron as she approached me with both concern and warmth.

"It’s already the 9th of March. You didn’t show up yesterday either," she said, looking me up and down. "I was beginning to worry something had happened to you."

Behind her, the innkeeper himself leaned against the counter, polishing a mug with a rag. He had the kind of weathered face that spoke of long years in the trade, his gray hair tied back into a stubby knot. He grunted when he saw me.

"Ah, Michael. Don’t forget, the academy entrance exam is on the 15th. Be prepared."

His tone wasn’t sharp—more like the practical reminder of a man who had seen many young hopefuls come and go.

I let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’m ready. I just had... some things to do before the exam. Nothing to worry about."

The wife studied me for another moment, as if deciding whether I was being truthful, then finally nodded. "Well, as long as you’re safe. You look tired though. Make sure you eat properly, alright?"

"Of course," I said with a polite smile.

After a bit more small talk, I excused myself and headed upstairs. My legs felt heavy as I climbed, and by the time I opened the door to my room, it was like dropping a weight I didn’t know I’d been carrying.

The simple room greeted me: a small bed, a wooden wardrobe, a basin. Modest, but compared to the dungeon, this was luxury. I shut the door behind me, unfastened my cloak, and tossed it onto the chair. My shirt followed, damp with sweat.

Time for a bath.

Steam soon filled the small attached washroom, and I sank into the warm water with a sigh. The heat seeped into my bones, easing the soreness from fighting and swinging my blade for hours in that cursed place.

By the time I stepped out five minutes later, wrapped in a towel, I felt like a new man. My reflection in the small mirror looked sharper too—eyes more focused, posture straighter. It wasn’t just the bath.

It was progress.

I sat down, stretched my hands, and finally gave the command.

"Status."

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[ STATUS WINDOW ]

Name: Michael Willson

Age: 15

Class: Magic Swordsman

Traits: Mana Manipulation

Rank: E-

Affinity: Ice, Space

STR – 101

STA – 112

AGI – 87

ENC – 79

INT – 107

Mana: 2900 / 2900

Unallocated Stats: 20

SP: 15,660

Skills – (5)

Arts – (1)

| SHOP | CREATION SKILL |

---

I studied the glowing panel carefully, lips curling into a half-smile.

Twenty unallocated stat points. Not bad at all.

But stats weren’t just numbers—they translated to raw ability. And right now, I needed balance. My STR and STA were solid, but my agility lagged behind, and in a fight speed was survival.

After a moment of thought, I made my choice.

"Allocate seven points into AGI, eight into STR, and the last five into STA."

The screen pulsed, numbers shifting.

---

[ STATUS UPDATED ]

STR – 109

STA – 117

AGI – 94

ENC – 79

INT – 107

Mana: 2900 / 2900

Unallocated Stats: 0

---

Not bad. Not bad at all.

But then my gaze landed on the small note under "Rank." E-.

I clenched my fists. To rank up to a full E, I needed at least 125 in one stat. My STR and STA were close, but not quite there yet. Just a few more points.

"Guess that’s another wall to break," I muttered.

Still, compared to the me who had first woken up in this world, I was stronger. Tangibly stronger.

And as if in response to that thought, the System chimed in.

Ding!

[ Quest Unlocked ]

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[ QUEST 1: Pass the Entrance Exam ]

1.1 Pass the First Exam

→ Reward: +3 Stats, +500 SP

1.2 Pass the Second Exam

→ Reward: +3 Stats, +500 SP

1.3 Pass the Third Exam

→ Reward: +3 Stats, +2 STR, +600 SP

1.4 Pass the Final Exam

→ Reward: +5 Stats, +3 STR, +2 INT, +900 SP

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[ QUEST 2: Be the Best (Result-based Reward) ]

Rank 9th – 5th

→ Reward: +5 Stats, x1 Blue Skill

Rank 4th – 3rd

→ Reward: +10 Stats, x1 Purple Skill

Rank 2nd

→ Reward: +15 Stats, x2 Purple Skills, +5000 SP

Rank 1st

→ Reward: +20 Stats, x1 Purple Skill, x1 Gold Skill, +15,000 SP

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[ QUEST 3: Admitted to the Academy ]

1.1 Become an official student of the Academy

→ Reward: +10 Stats, +5000 SP

1.2 Assigned to Class A

→ Reward: +15 Stats, +8000 SP

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The blue panels hovered in front of me like tantalizing bait. My chest tightened.

These rewards... If I could actually pull this off, it would accelerate my growth massively. Blue, purple, gold skills... In the game, those had been rare treasures. And stats, oh the stats—they were basically the foundation of everything.

"Yeah," I whispered, smirking. "This is it. This is my shot."

But reality was a cruel teacher. To stand out in the exam, I needed more than stats and a few basic skills. I needed something that could make me different. Something that would give me an edge over not just ordinary candidates, but monsters in human skin.

A weapon.

A proper one.

My gaze fell to the corner, where my current sword leaned against the wall. Functional, but nothing special. It wouldn’t make heads turn, and in a fight against real elites, it might not even hold.

I knew where the best option lay. The sword belonging to Leon Lionheart, the so-called protagonist. The blade that would shine brilliantly in the hands of the game’s chosen hero.

But that path was closed. I couldn’t touch it not without risking everything.

So what then?

I leaned back on the bed, closing my eyes, dredging through the half-buried memories of my past life. Game lore. Side quests. Hidden developer notes.

And then it came to me.

Not the protagonist’s blade... but another.

The second Divine Weapon.

The Drakran Sword.

The details flickered in my mind like a half-forgotten story. It had been mentioned only once, in an obscure side story, practically hidden from normal players. Most dismissed it as flavor text. But I remembered.

Forged nearly three millennia ago by the dwarf blacksmith Delora, whose rank had been said to reach Saint+. He had used dragon martial fragments and even a shard of divinity itself. But the sword was too dangerous, it could possess its wielder if they weren’t strong enough. So Delora sealed it away, burying it beneath the roots of an ancient tree in the Black Forest.

It was locked behind a trial, with a stone seal marked by a symbol. Press the symbol, and the door to the hidden chamber would open.

And there, waiting, would be the sword.

"Drakran Sword..." I whispered, eyes gleaming.

In the game, no one ever retrieved it. It had remained a legend, a whisper. But now? Now I had a chance.

The System flickered, as if acknowledging my thought.

[ Item Detected: Drakran Sword ]

Rank: Sealed

My breath caught.

So it was real.

The weapon was out there, waiting.

And I would claim it.

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