chapter 6 A Legend in the Making

Blue had spent 750 bronze on a pair of Speedstep Boots—gear originally made for assassins and rangers. Most mages wouldn’t even consider them.

But Blue wasn’t most mages.

And right now, she was flying.

Between the boots and a rare Speed Scroll, her movement blurred across the forest terrain. She leapt over roots and ducked beneath branches with graceful precision. Leaves whirled in her wake. At level 3, she was one of the slowest classes in the game—but her effective movement speed now rivaled that of a level 7 ranger.

And that was the point.

Starter-area monsters ranged from level 4 to 5. With her enhanced speed, nothing in the forest could catch her.

But that wouldn’t be true for long.

She was headed beyond the tutorial zones.

Blue knew from memory that the Glimmering Frost Herb—the target of her newly unlocked quest—could only be found in cold biomes. The closest snowy zone to the Veron Kingdom’s starter towns was the Snowlake Mountains.

Reaching it on foot at her level? A suicide run.

Most players wouldn’t even try until level 6 or higher. In her past life, the few low-levels who attempted similar missions had only succeeded by sacrificing others—a chain of runners, each buying time with their lives while one courier dashed through with the quest item. It went without saying: only a guild could mobilize that kind of coordination and sacrifice.

Even then, most failed.

But Blue wasn’t relying on sacrifice. She was relying on money—and memory.

Her first quest with Frost had unlocked the option to sell rare herbs to the Guild of Merchants. With the coin earned from those sales and her quest rewards, she'd scraped together just enough to buy her speed.

Sadly, the auction houses in the starter towns were still limited in stock, but she had done what she could—and now, she was sprinting for the edge of the map.

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As the forest broke and the trees thinned, she crested a snowy ridge—and a cold shimmer swept through her interface.

> ⚠️ WARNING: You have left Starter Zone Territory.

> Penalty for death in this region: Full level loss + random item drop.

Another notification followed:

> ❄️ Congratulations! You have discovered the Snowlake Mountains.

> Region Type: Wild / Special

> Recommended Level: 10+

> Climate: Frozen

> 🏅 Achievement Unlocked: Traveler – Passive Skill Gained: +10% Environmental Resistances

The change in atmosphere was immediate.

But what surprised her most was the achievement. Turns out, being first came with perks—and in the later game, even small boosts could make the difference between expert and elite.

The air turned crisp and brittle in her lungs. Snowflakes drifted like ash. The world shimmered in icy hues—glittering drifts, jagged peaks, high ridgelines vanishing into misty clouds.

Below her, white fields stretched for miles.

And among them, like bloodstains on linen, she saw them—Glimmering Frost Herbs. Bright red. Vibrant. Alive against the cold.

Blue crouched low, activating Keen Eye. Her vision pulsed outward in a soft wave. The herbs lit up in her interface—but so did the danger.

> 🐾 Polar Fangbeast – Level ???

> 🐾 Spiked Wolvehound – Level ???

All marked with ???—meaning at least two levels above her, likely more.

She sighed, blowing on her frozen hands. “This isn’t about speed anymore.”

Her boots and scroll could outrun starter forest mobs. These beasts, however, were a different class. Getting spotted meant death.

She adjusted her route.

Blue hadn’t come here expecting anything less, so she got to work.

Instead of beelining for each herb, she wove carefully—mapping monster patrols, keeping to the edge of detection range. Working smarter, not faster. Any herb too close to a beast was left untouched.

It took time.

But she knew the difference between bold and reckless.

One by one, she harvested the glowing red herbs. Her breath frosted the air as her excitement grew.

And then—finally—the tenth.

> 🌿 Quest Updated: Collect 10 Glimmering Frost Herbs – COMPLETE

> Return to Mr. Hubert for reward.

She exhaled, half-frozen, half-relieved. She gave the frozen lake one last glance, fully intending to leave—

And stopped dead.

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A silver chest.

Half-buried in snow beyond a nearby ridge.

She let out an exasperated laugh. “Of course there’d be treasure. Maybe a reward for the first explorers…”

Just a faint gleam of metal. A taunt.

Her heart pounded.

Keen Eye activated again. This time, scrutinizing the route to the chest.

> 🐾 Iceblood Prowler – Level ??? (x3)

One, two, three—she counted them. Still. Silent. Waiting.

Ambushers.

Her scan couldn’t identify their speed. And that made it worse.

They were guarding the chest.

They didn’t move—but they were ready.

In her past life, she would’ve walked away. The herbs were enough.

But this time, she had promised herself to be brave.

One death meant lost time. But a silver chest? That meant gear, rewards… power.

And power won wars.

If she turned away now, what good was this second chance?

Was she not here to push herself? To become someone strong enough to protect everything she held dear?

This chest was as good a place as any to start realizing her impossible ambitions.

She eyed the monsters on her Keen Eye-sharpened map, deep in thought.

She knew for certain—there was no use fighting. Even the weakest of the monsters here could kill her in one or two hits.

But not all battles needed to end with steel.

Iceblood Prowlers feared fire and loud noises.

Fanged Polar Beasts had poor sight.

This, she could use—to escape.

But the Spiked Wolvehounds?

They were cunning. Silent. No known weaknesses at her level.

She narrowed her eyes.

She’d just have to avoid them.

There was nothing else she could do about it.

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PLAN B

Using Keen Eye, Blue circled to the edge of the clearing. She stayed just outside the prowlers' aggro range, her boots crunching softly in the snow. Her breath fogged the air as she crouched behind a rock formation, heart thudding in her ears.

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From her satchel, she pulled out a mineral shard—a dense, chalky rock she’d collected while foraging. It was valuable to forgers. Just one mineral could heighten furnace heat by 20%, resulting in stronger weapons and a higher completion rate. She’d picked a few, planning to sell them once lifestyle players emerged. While worthless now, in a few months, forging apprentices would buy them at all costs.

Yet here she was, throwing one away.

She hurled it—not far, her throw weak—but enough to arc it near the prowlers.

As it landed with a soft thunk, Blue raised her staff and whispered the incantation at blinding speed:

“Fireblast!”

A crackling explosion rocked the clearing, lighting the sky with red-gold starburst flames. The sound echoed through the valley like thunder, while fiery arcs burst outward like warped fireworks, coloring the sky in bloody light.

The prowlers panicked instantly, letting out sharp, pitiful whines as they backed away, tails low, eyes wide with fear.

That was her opening.

Blue darted from cover, her speed gear flaring with every step. She closed the distance to the chest in seconds.

She dropped to her knees and grabbed it—

⚠️ Storing... 5 seconds remaining...

She couldn’t move. If she did, the process would cancel.

“Not yet,” she whispered, watching the seconds crawl by.

Keen Eye swept the surroundings. Then she saw it—

One of the larger prowlers had recovered.

Its yellow eyes locked on her.

⚠️ Storing... 2 seconds remaining...

It sniffed once—then snarled, thick paws crunching snow as it launched into a dead sprint straight toward her.

✅ Silver Chest secured. Item transferred to inventory.

She didn’t even breathe. That prowler was gaining fast—and the others would recover soon, too.

She grabbed another rock from her belt and hurled it at the oncoming beast. Before it landed, she screamed:

“Fireblast!”

The explosion went off inches from its muzzle.

It yelped in surprise, staggering back, paws shielding its face like a terrified pup.

Blue didn’t wait.

She ran.

Boots tore up snow. Cloak snapped behind her. Her mad dash began.

Keen Eye pulsed again, highlighting her intended escape route: past the Snow Fangs napping behind a low ridge.

If she could reach them, she might trigger a distraction.

She bolted.

Behind her, the prowler’s snarl returned—louder, angrier. It had shaken off the fear.

It was hunting her now.

Her breath hitched. She didn’t dare look back.

Instead, she looked ahead—spotted her victim—and cast on the run:

“Ice-Ickle Spear!”

The shard of frozen magic struck a Fanged Polar Beast sleeping beneath a snowy ledge.

It reared up with a deafening ROAR. Aggro triggered. Locked on.

Now behind her, a beast thundered forward. Ahead, the polar bear barreled toward her, shaking the ground with each leap.

She mentally calculated the speeds. Within seconds, both would reach her.

Good.

She spotted her escape and dove.

The prowler lunged to tackle her, but hit a rock formation instead. It let out a pained yelp, yellow eyes glaring like she was the one who'd tricked it—which, technically, she had.

Blue gave it a faint, almost apologetic smile and pressed her back against the stone formation. Then she slipped into a narrow niche carved into the side—barely wide enough to hide her.

The prowler sniffed, its snout twitching. Though it didn’t speak, its demeanor said it all:

I can smell you, human.

It was only meters away.

Then—

Footsteps. Snarls. CRASH.

The polar beast lunged at the only visible enemy: the prowler.

The two collided in a blur of claws, fangs, and roars. Snow exploded into the air. A prowler was flung across the field.

Not long after, its two fellow companions joined the fight. The three prowlers sank low, circling, ready to attack the lone polar beast.

Blue took this chance to crawl out of hiding and resume her mad dash to safety.

Past trees. Past ridges. Toward the starter-zone barrier—the invisible line between safety and slaughter.

Her boots hummed with fading enchantment. Her muscles screamed. Her lungs burned.

Just a few meters more—

Then she felt it.

Something was off.

Blue didn’t need time to think. Her instincts flared. One hand gripped her staff, eyes scanning—and she saw it.

A Wolven Hound—sleek, massive, lunging through the trees.

It had been waiting. Laying in ambush.

Now it was hunting.

She reacted on instinct. Triple-casting at blinding speed:

Tier 0 – Vine Bind: vines burst from the snow, snaring its legs.

Tier 0 – Ice Rush: not at the beast, but at the vines—freezing them solid.

Tier 0 – Ice Shield: just in time.

The two first spells narrowly let her slip past the bound hound. She twisted her body mid-run, both hands holding the shield she'd conjured.

Boom. The hound slammed into the shield. The water-drenched vines snapped taut. Her Ice Shield cracked, but it held just long enough.

No Tier 0 spell would hold a beast of this caliber for long.

Sort of.

The impact flung her backward—faster than her scrolls and boots combined—right across the starter zone threshold.

She landed hard, sliding across snowy earth. Her HP bar blinked red.

⚠️ Warning: Critical Health!

HP: 8 / 340

System alerts and zone warnings flared in her vision. She didn’t read them.

She couldn’t stop.

Mid-tumble, she cast Tier 0 – Flash Step on herself. The spell kicked in, hurling her a few steps ahead. She landed on her feet—and kept running.

Keen Eye activated mid-sprint.

Ahead—a lone horned boar. Level 5. Grazing, oblivious.

Behind her—

The hound wasn’t done. Even slowed by the zone barrier—it charged.

It, too, got a warning:

⚠️ Entering restricted zone. Power scaling in effect.

The beast slowed slightly, growling in confusion. Its stats compressed. But the prey was so close, so tempting.

Then it saw something easier.

A horned boar. Not even half as fast.

The Wolven Hound turned, hunger overriding instinct.

It pounced. Slammed into the boar. Dragged it back into its territory.

Content.

Blue didn’t stop. She breathed—barely.

Her plan had worked. The boar had saved her. Unknowingly.

She laughed, breathless. No time to thank the universe.

She was a red bar of life limping toward salvation.

The wind howled against her. Every gust felt like it could shatter her.

8 HP.

A sneeze from that thing could’ve finished her.

But somehow—she made it.

The gates of Rosewilder Village appeared through the haze.

Safe zone reached.

Her boots skidded on cobbled stone as she finally slowed, chest heaving.

🍃 Natural Regeneration activated.

HP: 12 / 340...

HP: 20 / 340...

She stumbled into the village square, battered but alive. A swordsman standing nearby muttered, “How is that mage so fast? Did I choose the wrong class?”—his eyes following her as she headed deeper into town.

Mr. Hubert greeted her with a gleam in his eyes and a respect that hadn’t been there before.

“You’ve done more than I expected,” he said, voice gravelly with age but warm. “Few manage to retrieve the Glimmering Frost Herb, let alone do it alone.”

The quest completion prompt finally bloomed in her interface:

🌿 Quest Complete!

You have delivered 10 Glimmering Frost Herbs to Master Alchemist Hubert.

🌟 Likeness with Master Alchemist Hubert increased to 60%.

🧾 Letter of Recommendation to Falkenhide City issued.

🎁 Reward Received:

• 2 Gold Coins

• +2 Levels

• 400 XP (Total: Level 5 – 56%)

• Rare Alchemy Recipe: Frostveil Draught

• Location Unlocked: Hubert’s Apothecary, Falkenhide

→ 10% discount on all goods

He handed her a sealed envelope, bearing the official crest of the Veron Kingdom. Her access to Falkenhide was now secured—not through combat or escort duty like Robin Arrow, but through scholarly favor.

Then he passed her a small scroll, carefully tied with silver thread.

“This,” he said, “is one of my proudest recipes. Few have it. Use it well.”

She unfurled it:

🍶 Frostveil Draught – Rare Alchemical Formula

Temporarily grants Ice Resistance equal to 4 levels above the user’s (until level 20).

After level 20: Adds +15% to existing Ice Resist.

Usable by alchemists who learn the recipe from this scroll. Max uses: 0/5.

Execution level required: Intermediate Alchemy Mastery.

Blue stared at it, stunned. Potions like these didn’t drop often, and a five-slot scroll? Huge. For a guild or a company, having five learnable uses was gold.

Churning out Frostveil Draughts on a semi-regular basis would rake in coin and skyrocket popularity—especially during the storm seasons and colder regional expansions.

She laughed aloud, the thrill of it all hitting her in one breathless wave. And then she remembered—she still had that silver chest.

But she’d be a fool to open it out in the open.

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📜 To Falkenhide

Inside the Adventurer’s Hall, Blue presented her letter. A clerk raised an eyebrow, inspected the seal, then nodded quickly.

“Right this way, miss. You’re approved. Please head to the travel quarters and board the next wagon bound for Falkenhide. May your journey prove bountiful.”

Unlike the Robin Arrow caravan, which had earned their passage by accepting a guard contract, Blue’s journey would be in comfort—a sponsored trip, courtesy of Mr. Hubert. She wouldn’t need to lift a finger. NPC mercenaries were assigned to defend the route from monster ambushes.

By the time she climbed into the velvet-lined carriage, she was more than ready to collapse.

But first, she had a chest to open.

Nestled in the corner of the carriage, she unlocked it:

⚔️ You have opened: Silver Chest – Ice Region Variant

Contents:

• Frostfang Saber – Level ? Weapon

• 570 Silver Coins

• ???-Rank Mage Stave (Unidentified)

→ Must be appraised by a certified item evaluator.

She pulled the Frostfang Saber out and gave it an experimental swing. It gleamed with a faint sheen of frost, the edge razor-sharp. A solid weapon—perfect to barter, or maybe lend to a future melee partner once her guild was up and running.

The stave, however, was something else entirely. Blackwood, twisted with silver veins, its name blurred behind a veil of magic.

She’d need an evaluator in Falkenhide. Expensive—but absolutely worth it.

She leaned back, content.

The trip to Falkenhide would take roughly four hours—just enough time to train.

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📚 Study in Motion

From her inventory, she pulled out a stack of Tier 0 spellbooks. The set had cost her half the silver she’d just earned at the auction house—but they were worth every coin.

Thanks to her past life, she already remembered the mechanics behind nearly all the early spells. But remembering wasn’t enough.

You had to read the book. Trigger the system’s recognition. Only then would the spell slot unlock—and only then could real mastery begin.

Every mage could learn from a single-use scroll—but how you cast, how you intoned the chant, the rune drawn by your stave, the understanding behind the spell—that’s what determined its power.

And on top of that?

* Multicasting.

* Silent casting.

* Chaining spell effects.

Combos that took years of training to master—and the players of now didn’t even think to try. Yet here she was, fully adapted before others could even take their first steps.

She flipped open the first tome.

🔓 Spell Unlocked: “Tier 0 – Earth Spikes”

🔓 Spell Unlocked: “Tier 0 – Wind Cut”

🔓 Spell Unlocked: “Tier 0 – Water Slash”

🔓 Spell Unlocked: “Tier 0 – Fire Arrow”

Each success pinged softly in her HUD.

If anyone knew how fast she was regaining her spell library, they’d scream bloody murder. Her knowledge was a cheat code—a full second life of high-end gaming data packed into a single head.

But no one knew.

And that was her edge.

Blue smiled to herself and kept flipping pages, the hum of carriage wheels steady beneath her, as snow-covered hills rolled by in the fading light.