Free Web NovelIan tightened the clasp of his cape.
It was not merely for appearance.
The cape was a basic starter item, but it came with a built-in +15% resistance to fire and various status effects.
And more importantly, it was default equipment.
Any player who selected the character ‘Ian’ began the game wearing it.
People constantly complained that the Ian route offered no advantages whatsoever, but honestly, his starting gear was fairly decent.
‘If even this sucked, I’d be completely doomed.’
Equipment available in Ian’s route was notoriously limited. Most obtainable items were either consumables—like arrows—or lightweight armor restricted to leather-class gear.
As an archer, Ian could not equip heavy armor in the first place.
Lightweight defensive gear with high durability and bonus options was practically priceless. That was why he usually did not replace Ian’s initial outfit until the mid-to-late game.
Anyway.
Narrowing his eyes, Ian adjusted the cape he had been wearing nonstop since the beginning of the game.
‘Here it comes.’
The steel chandelier swung toward him like a giant pendulum.
Without hesitation, Ian jumped.
Enhanced by <Blessing of Agility> and <Blessing of Lightness>, alongside <Blessing of Strength> and <Blessing of Balance>, his legs exploded with force.
He landed lightly atop the chandelier.
Even so, despite trying to control his movement, the edge of his cape brushed against one of the candles and instantly caught fire. Ian slapped it out immediately.
His teeth clenched on reflex.
The smell of scorched flesh reached him first.
Pain shot through his hand in sharp pulses. The added weight caused the chandelier to sway violently, chains groaning overhead. A wave of nausea rolled through him.
‘They really shouldn’t have programmed this.’
Who the hell throws up while gaming? It was not like he had consumed poison.
‘...’
Ian bit down hard enough to taste blood.
The sharp sting snapped him back to himself.
Right. freёweɓnovel.com
There was no “player” anymore.
This was reality.
And he was not about to throw up over pain like some amateur.
That kind of embarrassingly realistic reaction did not suit him.
He clenched an arrow between his teeth while fitting another onto the bowstring, pulling it taut as he took aim below.
Keith was battling at the center of the room.
Books flew around him like a murderous flock of birds while invisible attacks slashed through the air. Amid the chaos, he fought the semi-transparent Tower Keeper Ghost.
The ghost attacked with little more than flicks of its fingers.
Each gesture caused the floating books to rustle violently, launching invisible blades toward Keith.
“Silence in the library!”
“Naughty children who make noise are bad children!”
“You must be punished! You must be disciplined!”
“Who deserves punishment? Who has been naughty?”
The Tower Keeper Ghost screeched its eerie nonsense nonstop.
‘You’re literally the loudest thing in here.’
Ian aimed directly at the ghost’s head.
Wind gathered silently around the arrowhead, while a brilliant Level 7 enhancement shimmered along the shaft.
Sssssk—
Thud!
“Kiiiiaaaah!”
The ghost shrieked.
The books circling around it froze instantly before all turning toward Ian at once.
Despite lacking eyes, they somehow still felt like they were glaring at him.
Ian did not care about being stared at.
The real problem was what came next.
“Keith!”
“Yes.”
Ian had called his name to signal, Draw aggro again.
But Keith seemed to have already understood.
And unfortunately, he had reached the correct conclusion.
‘Lord Ian is physically weak.’
Keith respected Ian’s abilities, but from Keith’s perspective, Ian’s close-combat capability remained dangerously inadequate.
Even if Ian had methods to survive on his own, that was irrelevant.
Keith’s role was to protect him.
Crack!
Ian’s eyes widened.
Keith charged straight toward the ghost.
The books reacted immediately.
Their first priority was defending their master, which meant they instinctively targeted the more immediate threat.
The more dangerous threat.
Ian’s arrow barrage had shifted aggro onto him, causing dozens of books to open simultaneously and unleash invisible blades.
Once detached from the pages, the attacks vanished from sight entirely, making them nearly impossible to defend against.
But Ian had already calculated all of this.
He absolutely had a method for avoiding the attacks.
He was surrounded by candles.
The chandelier hanging around him was lined with flickering flames on every side.
‘If something approaches, the flames will react first.’
Strangely enough, those candles never went out no matter what happened around them.
But they still responded to changes in their surroundings.
If someone got too close, fabric might ignite.
If wind moved nearby, the flames flickered violently.
And when invisible pages flew through the air—
—the candles warned him first.
To a gamer, it was practically a visual cue screaming:
Incoming attack.
Failing to react after seeing that would simply mean lacking skill.
Back when this was still a game, Ian had almost treated this boss mechanic like a rhythm game, smashing through invisible attacks in perfect timing.
Back then, only his fingers needed to move.
Now his entire body did.
That alone was an absurd difficulty increase.
‘Worst case, I’ll tank a few hits.’
Keith would regain aggro soon enough anyway. The attacks targeting Ian would not last long.
Then Ian could continue dealing damage.
Everything had been perfectly calculated.
But Keith moved in a way Ian had not anticipated.
“Ugh—”
Keith drove himself directly into the ghost’s attack range. freewebnøvel.com
A muffled groan escaped him.
One of the ghost’s books pierced through his chest.
The ghost’s translucent arm emerged through Keith’s armor slick with blood.
The ghost was not vulnerable because it possessed a physical body.
Rather, holy power directly damaged the magical energy composing it.
And now the reverse was happening.
The ghost’s magic was tearing through Keith’s actual flesh.
“Naughty child! Loud child! You must be punished!”
The Tower Keeper Ghost practically rejoiced.
Before it could redirect its attacks toward Ian, Keith forcibly intercepted everything.
Every invisible blade.
Every attack.
The floating books shifted targets as well, shredding into him instead.
His cape tore apart instantly.
His HP dropped by nearly half in a single moment.
Ian felt the blood drain from his own body.
“What the hell are you doing...?!”
“Continue.”
Light enveloped Keith’s body as he spoke.
His HP slowly began recovering.
In every game ever made, paladins existed as the ultimate tank class.
Which meant they were optimized specifically for situations like this.
Massive HP pools.
Self-healing.
Exceptional aggro control.
Bloodshot eyes cleared once more beneath the glow of healing magic, while the dark blood pouring from his armor gradually stopped.
“It barely hurts,” Keith said coldly. “Is this truly all the power you possess to punish someone?”
“Kiiiiaaaah!”
The ghost shrieked furiously.
The books revolving around it accelerated into a violent vortex.
Even the towering bookshelves began moving, shifting to block Keith’s escape routes.
But Keith simply seized one of the moving shelves and used it as a foothold.
Thump!
He launched himself forward.
Dozens of books instantly swarmed to defend the ghost.
Keith never reached it.
But the ghost screamed again anyway.
“Aaaaaaaah! Naughty child...!”
Its head was suddenly riddled with arrows.
Ian had not moved once.
He simply continued firing.
Now that the chandelier had stabilized beneath him, his aim became terrifyingly precise.
His eyes never left the ghost.
The thick calluses on his fingers had split open without him even noticing. Blood soaked the bowstring as he pulled it back again and again, the taut line cutting sharply across his clenched lips and jaw.
Particles of light gathered at the arrowhead.
Release.
The arrow tore through the air like a streak of light and pierced the ghost cleanly.
‘Again.’
Faster.
His fingernails split under the repeated strain of drawing the bow.
Ian ignored the pain entirely.
The rage burning inside him drowned out every warning his body tried to send.
Keith was tanking properly.
Exactly like a traditional MMORPG tank.
Which was completely against Ian’s intentions.
‘Why are you taking hits that I’m supposed to dodge?’
Ian had never ordered this.
Protecting the damage dealer was indeed the tank’s role.
Paladins were designed for that very purpose.
Keith also possessed powerful self-healing abilities. Realistically, it was difficult to imagine him dying from a simple miscalculation in damage intake.
Logically, Ian knew there was no reason to panic.
Keith’s HP was recovering steadily.
And yet—
‘It still hurts.’
Ian had never built Keith ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) as a balanced fighter.
Keith’s body was specialized for speed.
And the greatest virtue of a speed-focused character—
—was dodging attacks.
Not throwing himself directly into them.
Ian’s stomach twisted violently.
