Chapter 11 …
When people face a situation that defies common sense, their thinking stops — or so they say.
A phrase he’d heard once suddenly came to mind.
Because that was exactly what Dohyun was experiencing right now.
‘What kind of situation is this?’
He can’t become an Apostle?
The vessel of an Apostle can’t be created?
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
He had honestly(?) drawn a card and made his choice — so why was it being rejected because the vessel couldn’t be formed?
There was no way he could accept this.
‘I’ve never heard of something like this happening…’
Of course, everything since the very start of the tutorial had been different from what he’d heard — but this was clearly an error.
What did they mean an AI had no bugs?
There was a blatant error right in front of him!
“…Wait. Vessel?”
At that moment, a chilling thought flashed through him.
‘Don’t tell me… it’s because I never received the Goddess’s revelation?’
There was one difference between Dohyun and the other users who had completed the tutorial.
Whether they defeated the boss without dying — or died, met the Goddess, and received her revelation.
Growing anxious, Dohyun opened his status window.
[Player: Kaiser]
[Level: 1]
HP: 700 / 700
MP: 150 / 150
Stamina: 210 / 210
Class: Adventurer
Titles (2):
Max Affinity From the Start?
First Slayer
Stats
Strength: 5 (+18)
Agility: 5 (+18)
Vitality: 5 (+18)
Sense: 5 (+18)
Mana: 5 (+18)
Remaining Points: 0
“…It’s not there.”
Instead of “Apostle,” the class simply read Adventurer.
Maybe the Apostle’s vessel only formed after a player died and received the Goddess’s revelation?
“Damn it!”
No matter how he thought about it, that was the only answer.
If that were true, even the message saying the deity was surprised made sense. Who would have expected the vessel not to exist?
This must be the first time even Tir had encountered such a situation.
‘Then what am I supposed to do?’
Would redrawing the card even matter?
It would obviously just get rejected again for lacking a vessel. At this rate, he might be stuck in the Pantheon forever.
But he couldn’t delete the character either.
All the traits he had worked so hard to obtain would vanish — and he’d have to wait 60 days.
‘Do they know how long I’ve waited for this moment…!’
He had endured a full year and six months.
After surviving what felt like an eternity, he finally reached this point — and now he was supposed to wait another 60 days?
Even if he could regain the traits, that was absolutely unacceptable.
‘I need to find a solution.’
He had to.
…but how?
If he forcibly logged out, it would auto-select — but would that even apply when he’d already been rejected for lacking a vessel?
‘If it works, it’s a problem. If it doesn’t, it’s also a problem.’
If it triggered and he ended up with some useless fable-tier god, that would be infuriating. If it didn’t, he might have to delete the character.
He couldn’t recklessly log out.
Caught in an extreme dilemma, Dohyun clutched his head in frustration.
‘Ha… and why is there so much light everywhere?’
His mind was already a mess, and the lights pouring out from the ten thousand cards were making his eyes spin.
Just as he was about to turn around to think—
“…Huh?”
Something strange caught his eye.
Among the countless lights of three colors, one card stood out distinctly.
It couldn’t help but stand out.
“Why is that one a different color?”
Because only that single card, tucked away in the corner, was glowing red.
And that wasn’t the only strange thing.
The neatly aligned square cards all had equal numbers per row.
He hadn’t noticed before — but the row containing that card had one extra.
That was why it was sticking out awkwardly at the edge. It had been in the corner, so his eyes hadn’t gone there.
‘Was there ever a red card?’
There had been no god-draw system in Demrock — but there was no such color rarity.
Same with Godose.
He’d never seen any post or NewTube video mentioning a red card.
‘No — more importantly, the count doesn’t add up.’
The Pantheon was called the Pantheon for a reason.
It was a temple of ten thousand gods. There shouldn’t be a ten-thousand-and-first card.
And looking closer, the card was strangely opaque compared to the others — suspicious in every way.
Step…
As if possessed by the bizarre phenomenon, Dohyun approached.
By the time he came to his senses, he had already selected the card.
Ding—
[You have selected a hidden card.]
[You have drawn Kashiyar, the Forgotten Last Adventurer.]
[You have obtained the Vessel of an Adventurer.]
[Conditions satisfied.]
[Would you like to choose?]
“…Ah.”
An exclamation escaped him.
It was a god he had never heard of.
No — could you even call it a god?
Unlike Fable Gods, Hero Gods, or Myth Gods, it had no rank.
Only the title: the Forgotten Last Adventurer.
But that alone was enough.
Instinct told him this was the only card he could choose.
[You have selected Kashiyar, the Forgotten Last Adventurer.]
[You have become Kashiyar’s Apostle.]
‘…It actually worked.’
His hunch had been right.
He had inherited a one-of-a-kind deity.
So was this a rotten rope — or a golden lifeline?
He couldn’t tell yet.
But one thing was certain—
‘Hidden piece.’
At the very least, this choice was one of the hidden pieces.
And hidden pieces were never ordinary.
[Choose your path.]
[Advanced Class]
Last Adventurer
There was only one option.
Without hesitation, he selected it.
Red light burst forth and wrapped around Dohyun. The light surged into his body, circulating within—
His eyes turned crimson.
Flash!
[You have advanced to Last Adventurer.]
[You acquire class skills.]
Class: Last Adventurer
Description:
Humanity was originally a race of adventurers.
They were the masters of Avtartel — stronger than any other — possessing power and influence great enough to threaten even the gods.
But humanity desired peace and did not challenge the gods.
Yet fate was cruel.
War ultimately broke out against the peace-seeking humans.
It was the great war, Ragnarok, that destroyed all divine realms — and the conflict that began when they turned their gaze toward Avtartel.
During the long war, Avtartel’s once-beautiful nature collapsed, and countless casualties emerged.
Even so, humanity did not lose a single continent.
They believed they could protect Avtartel and drive the gods away.
Until the day everything collapsed in vain…
Humanity was defeated.
And I am the last adventurer of humanity…
“Ah…”
Dohyun let out a breath of awe.
Every line of the description was extraordinary.
It carried the strong scent of a hidden piece tied to the deepest secrets of the world.
‘Jackpot.’
His instincts screamed.
This was definitely not an ordinary class.
It clearly possessed something immense.
Just look at the description — nothing about it was normal.
‘Humanity fought the gods… I’ve never heard of lore like this.’
At least, not in anything Dohyun had researched.
Maybe deeper digging would uncover it — but one thing was certain.
This was not a common class.
It felt tied to the world’s hidden secrets…
‘This is interesting.’
He had thought any sword-wielding god would be fine — whether Fable-tier or not.
Who knew he’d end up obtaining a hidden piece like this?
Life really was unpredictable.
In any case, he’d naturally learn more while playing.
‘What did it give me?’
Right now, something else sparked his curiosity.
‘Unique Ability.’
Each god granted a unique ability.
What power had this one-of-a-kind god — the Last Adventurer — bestowed upon him?
He was too curious to endure.
Swallowing dryly, Dohyun opened the Unique Ability window—
And his eyes widened.
<Unique Ability>
[Adventurer]
Description:
Adventurers are those who pursue freedom.
As the masters and companions of Avtartel, they possess explosive potential.
Effect:
You can use skills regardless of class restrictions.
‘This is insane!’
An ability that could use all classes’ skills?
Even with the limit of 13 skill slots, this was practically the same as awakening every class.
His excited mind began racing.
‘I can build a skill tree using only the best skills from each class.’
Dozens of builds already came to mind.
The only problem was how long it would take to obtain them all—
But Dohyun had the Eye of Truth.
A broken trait that let him obtain desired skills with certainty rather than probability.
‘And if I combine this with Weapon Master…?’
It would be the ultimate, weakness-free all-master.
Gulp.
Dohyun took a small breath.
Even seeing it with his own eyes, it didn’t feel real.
He hadn’t even started the main game yet — and already this much?
He could barely count today’s gains.
‘This isn’t a dream… right?’
It was hard to believe.
But this was reality.
Not something that fell into his lap — but something he earned by clearing hidden pieces.
Dohyun’s eyes sharpened.
[Advancement complete.]
[You will be transported to Avtartel shortly.]
[5…]
[4…]
The warp was ready.
The tutorial was truly over — and the real stage was about to begin.
Watching the countdown, Dohyun placed a hand on his chest.
‘Let’s do this.’
As the pounding in his chest was gradually swallowed by light, a slow smile spread across his lips.
‘Ranker.’
White light enveloped him—
And his vision flipped.
The real game had begun.
* * *
Users who completed the tutorial always arrived first in Arde.
And in the central plaza of this so-called beginner city — the City of Beginnings — there was never a moment without people.
Because newbies kept appearing in brief flashes of light.
Having finally stepped onto Arde’s soil after finishing the tutorial, they each exclaimed in awe.
“Whoa…!”
“This is insane, it’s so pretty!”
“This is amazing. It feels like I came to another world. It doesn’t feel real, but it feels real…”
“I wanna call BS, but… yeah, I admit it. Look at the buildings and people — they all look real. Feels like I’m inside a fantasy movie.”
“It’s different from what we saw at Arren Castle. It feels way more developed?”
The pure, childlike excitement of newbies.
It was the kind of sight that made passing veteran players pause and smile nostalgically.
“Those were the days…”
It was also where users moved most actively.
But not everyone was like that.
“…Ugh, my mental is wrecked.”
“Maybe I just don’t have talent for games… I’ll just go production.”
“Just hang in there until level 10. In Godose, you don’t have to be combat. If you’re good, production jobs get great treatment too.”
Because Godose was so hyper-realistic, some newbies inevitably got shocked by combat.
Those people usually came out mentally shattered.
“Tsk… looks like Charlie chewed them out.”
“That’s more than just a lecture. Their mental got completely destroyed.”
“Man, no one worth scouting today… We need combat types.”
The grotesque monsters alone were enough to make people dizzy — and with Charlie’s backseat coaching piled on top, many simply couldn’t endure it.
Some with weaker hearts gave up on combat entirely.
Thanks to that, Godose had far more production and non-combat players than during the VR era — which players liked.
But for scouts, it was a headache.
“Later on, recruiting combat players with good traits gets insanely strict.”
“You think that’s all? Their standards are sky-high now, and they want everything.”
“Snatching them now is best… sigh. This isn’t even finding a pearl in the sand anymore. Competition’s brutal, talent keeps drying up — what are we supposed to do?”
Godose already had one billion players.
Newbies still flowed in steadily as minors came of age each year — but most joined at the start of the year.
Now that it was April, how many truly skilled newcomers would there be?
Occasionally, a “genius” would appear—
But only rarely.
“There’s no fairy tale where geniuses fall from the sky.”
