As the three figures of the Ass Guild made their grand entrance, the crowd erupted into a chorus of praises and admiration, a testament to their widespread popularity.
“Look! That’s Maylock!” one voice exclaimed. “Even though he possesses only an Elite-grade class, he reigns supreme in the archer rankings!”
Another individual nodded, their eyes gleaming with admiration. “He’s truly extraordinary. He was revered as the mastermind behind the Ass Guild, Maylock orchestrates battles and organizes massive raid boss encounters with unparalleled precision. It’s almost as if he can foresee the future with those strategies of his.”
“He’s the reason I chose to become an archer myself.”
As they spoke, another figure among the three caught the attention of the crowd.
“If you look closely, Kingsley’s physique is undeniably robust and imposing. It’s no wonder they call him the Great Wall, the one who shields the Ass Guild in every skirmish.”
“Yes, Kingsley,” another murmured. “Quiet he may be, yet in the heat of battle, he transforms into something fierce and unyielding. He is formidable and versatile, capable of single-handedly facing an entire party of high-level players.”
“But how does one attain such might without even an Epic-grade class?”
The last of the revered trio, though aged, seemed to hold a different yet equally formidable kind of power. The whispers grew hushed as his presence was noted.
“Goldrich, the old pervert, they say, possesses an unmatched mastery of magic. Among all the Immortal Legacy players, his repertoire of spells is the largest.”
“He’s incredibly meticulous,” another chimed in. “It’s said he can effortlessly read his opponent’s moves and counter them with his vast knowledge of magic spells.”
“At his age, to still be playing with such stamina and dexterity is nothing short of extraordinary,” remarked someone. “His skillset is truly remarkable.”
“He is also known to be extraordinarily wealthy. Does anyone know his real identity? I suspect he might be a retired magnate who has taken up gaming as his pastime.”
“The members of the Ass Guild are mostly wealthy people. I can’t imagine how elite their guild must be, with such a small number of members but possessing such immense power. It’s truly incredible.”
“I dream of becoming one of them, joining the Ass Guild.”
Kingsley strode forward, each of his steps resonating like a drumbeat in the hushed tension. Towering well over seven feet, his presence immediately forced the five men encircling Broken to slump and retreat slightly.
“What are you doing here? You have no business being here,” one of them said.
Maylock stepped into the fray with a mischievous smile that suggested he relished the unfolding drama.
“Hey now!” he called out. “Look who it is, our dear friends Broken and Freya. I deliberately sought you all out after catching sight of you entering this place.”
He turned his piercing gaze upon the five men. “So, what’s happening here? Are we having some trouble?”
Freya interjected, “Yes. They’re bullying us, apparently for their own amusement, even saying lewd things to me. I think it’s high time they got a lesson. Maybe a short trip to the Temple of Resurrection?” She finished, a grin spreading across her face.
Maylock’s demeanor shifted in an instant, his tone becoming cold and sharp. “Is that so? In that case, why don’t we make things interesting? A duel to the death: me against your entire group. The loser must surrender their weapons and everything in their inventory. Although,” he added with a hint of disdain, “I doubt there’s anything in your inventories worth my effort.”
The five men exchanged uneasy glances. A man with shiny black hair, perhaps trying to save face amidst his peers, “What’s your business messing with us, huh? Is it because you high- level guys fancy picking on us lower-level players?”
“Oh, isn’t that exactly what you’ve been doing to our two friends here? I’m merely offering a challenge that matches your level. What do you say? Interesting, isn’t it? I’m not one for pleasantries. Duel me now, or I’ll end this right here and now.”
Faced with Maylock’s deadly promise, the group’s courage fractured. One of them, finding his voice despite the fear shimmering in his eyes, muttered, “Let’s get out of here. Maybe we can take him down if we gather more people, but there’s no point in dealing with these arrogant high-rankers now.”
And with that, they turned on their heels, retreating like chastised pups fleeing from the fierce bark of a dominant hound.
A murmur rose like a growing wave throughout the room as the scene unfolded before them, a mix of disbelief and curiosity in the air.
“What? Friends? How can those two low-level players be friends with members of The Ass Guild?” someone exclaimed.
Another voice chimed in. “As far as I know, The Ass Guild never accepts new members. They might be few in number, but every single one of them is an elite player.”
“I’m curious about those two,” someone mused aloud. “Their names don’t ring any bells. Are they important figures we just haven’t heard of?”
A third voice speculated, “Given that the members of The Ass Guild are talking comfortably to them, these two must have some sort of influence or valuable connections. Whatever the reason, I’m very eager to find out more.”
As the buzz grew louder, the old mage, Goldrich, let out a hearty cackle. He glanced towards Broken with amusement in his eyes.
“Khi khi khi… I will take this opportunity to officially introduce myself. My name is Goldrich, and I hope you will accept this introduction despite our earlier misunderstanding.”
Broken, managed a smile. “Thanks, sure. My name is Broken.”
“Hi, I’m Kingsley, I feel ashamed to introduce myself after the stupidity I did.” he said.
“Take it easy, Kingsley, I knew it would be difficult dotting a baby with such a high level,
huh?” Freya responded.
They then introduced themselves to each other.
With that, Broken and Freya pulled up chairs and took a seat. Goldrich settled himself next to Freya. Maylock and Kingsley followed.
Freya, her smile weak but present, inched her chair closer to Broken.
The old mage cackled again with a knowing glint in his eye. “Khi khi khi… Young lady, why don’t you look comfortable around me?” he teased. “I think my reputation is quite good.” Freya’s eyes sparkled with a blend of mischief, “Don’t worry, old man. I’m doing this because I really understand your reputation as an old pervert mage.”
Goldrich clapped a hand to his chin. “Oh goodness, have I been misunderstood? I am simply an old gentleman who enjoys making friends,” he said, the corner of his lips curling upward. “Though perhaps I do pay a bit more attention to the beautiful young ladies.”
With the ice now broken, the group fell into easy conversations, exchanging pleasantries and banter.
“Sorry…” Kingsley began. “I tried my best to stop Melliandra from attacking you. But I couldn’t. The fight broke out, and now both of you have suffered losses because of it.”
Freya turned towards Broken, attempting to smile. “He said he doesn’t mind about it
anymore.”
Broken’s brow furrowed. “When did I ever say that?”
Freya was giggling and sought to shift the focus. “I believe she has learned her lesson now, right? How is she doing at the moment?”
“No!” Maylock scoffed, shaking his head. “That girl has a lot to come to terms with. Don’t be surprised if you’re still dealing with her tantrums in the future,” he added.
Freya sighed lightly. “I understand,” she conceded.
Just then, Goldrich seized the moment. “While we’re on the topic,” he began, “I couldn’t help but notice you possess a spirit of extraordinarily high grade. Such immense potential-one must be truly fortunate to acquire such a powerful companion.”
Freya’s demeanor hardened. “Stay back, old man,” she said. “We aren’t nearly close enough for you to be interrogating Broken like this, don’t you think?”
“Khi khi khi,” Goldrich chuckled softly. “Curiosity got the better of me,” he acknowledged, turning his keen gaze toward Broken. “For a swordsman such as yourself to master the ancient technique of Ethereal Form-well, that’s no small feat.”
He paused, letting his words linger in the air. “If that skill wasn’t a gift from the Deities themselves,” he continued, his fascination evident, “then your stroke of luck must be something extraordinary. I find myself incredibly eager to learn more about it.” Broken slowly raised his head, his eyes locking with Goldrich’s stare. A myriad of thoughts
raced through his mind, but he chose to cloak himself in silence. “He’s dangerously clever,” Broken muttered softly to himself.