Chapter 84: Black Wolf Fangblade
It wasn’t like Martin had never been the center of attention before. Back in his teenage years, he had been notorious for speaking with his fists, and that had drawn plenty of attention.
It felt similar today, except that once the rush of adrenaline faded and everything was over, Martin looked around awkwardly.
Oh damn.
Martin didn’t want this much attention. Too many eyes were already following him, the same kind he had learned to hate at work: entitled, curious, and convinced they deserved a piece of him. He wanted this game to be a breather, not another place where strangers kept pushing into his space. A small circle of loyal friends would have been enough.
Judging by the looks already sliding his way, that was no longer likely. A public duel, a public win, and a public collection of the debt had turned him into exactly the kind of player others would want to challenge.
Who wouldn’t want to bring down a daring, powerful player and stand over him with a look of superiority?
If I keep my head down for a while, people will forget, and I’ll be able to focus on myself. I just hope not many people bother me from now on. Otherwise, I’ll have to keep grinding Light Tree’s Dungeons.
Once Martin spotted Crimson Halo, he walked over to her.
"The best place to avoid this much attention is definitely a dungeon, but I have something in mind. Can you come with me? I want to repay you a little more for your help," he said.
Crimson Halo lifted her eyes to him with a dignified expression, then nodded. She followed him to Samu’s restaurant.
The walk there took longer than it should have. Small knots of players fell quiet when Martin passed. Some looked at his face, but more looked at the sword first, as though the black fang at his side confirmed the story better than any rumor could. One boy nearly walked into a pillar because he kept staring. Another broke into a hurried jog the moment he recognized the weapon, no doubt eager to carry the news farther.
Martin barely reacted. He neither straightened under the attention nor quickened his pace. He just kept walking with the calm, faintly annoyed air of someone moving through a tiresome inconvenience.
That caught Crimson Halo’s eye more than the whispers did.
A commoner would have basked, fumbled, or at least looked flattered. Martin did none of it. He wore attention with the weary ease of a man long accustomed to spotlights, which only made her suspicion more amusing.
As they walked, whispers trailed after them.
"That tome..."
"Is she joining him?"
"She has to be his healer."
The idea pleased Crimson Halo. The corner of her mouth almost moved before she smoothed it away.
More than that, Martin’s indifference to the attention kept feeding her suspicion. He moved through the stares and whispers with the tired ease of someone already used to public attention, which only made him seem more like a celebrity in disguise playing the commoner for reasons of his own.
And yet, whatever role she believed he was playing, the emotions this world drew out of him felt far too vivid to dismiss. The thrill of battle, the pressure of risk, the strange satisfaction of support and healing... none of it could be faked so easily from the inside.
After tasting emotion that raw, the kind no performance could ever imitate, the thought of staying at a safe distance suddenly felt dull. She wanted to step into this world properly and claim the finest adventures it had to offer.
Players like her younger sister and Martin were exactly the kind who aimed that high. She fully intended to be there with them.
There must be some correlation between breaking bones and breaking hearts. That must be why I find this so engaging.
Inside the restaurant, Samu peeked out from the kitchen to see who had come in. Warm air rolled through the place, rich with broth, roasted meat, and fresh herbs. Buracchu always made a familiar sound when a friend arrived, so Samu had suspected it might be a welcome face.
Indeed, it was Martin. He hadn’t come alone, either, but with a woman who was clearly older than him.
Samu led them into the kitchen to give them some space, and since Martin was already both his apprentice and his friend, it felt natural.
Once inside, Martin took his usual seat and greeted the chef.
"Thanks for having us. This is Crimson Halo. She’s Chaos’ older sister, and I think she’ll be our future healer."
Crimson Halo did not comment on his words.
Instead, she gave the chef a low curtsy. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Samu."
Her voice was smooth and polished, and even the small dip of her curtsy had perfect control to it. She carried herself like someone born into aristocracy, and for a moment Samu found himself wondering what the nobility in Martin’s world must be like.
He smiled back. "It is my kitchen’s pleasure to host you, miss. If the kitchen itself could welcome you, I’m sure it would do so already. Every utensil would rattle in greeting."
Martin deadpanned.
All the other players who had been receiving quests and training from Samu widened their eyes in utter shock. Some even stared as if checking whether Crimson Halo’s tome had knocked something loose in the man’s head.
What was with that attitude? What were those words? Had he gone senile?
Crimson Halo covered her lips and laughed. "Ah, my... that would be a memorable experience. But today, I’m here with a friend after his spectacular victory. Please, do not trouble yourself over me."
"Haha! Right. Martin brought Thorn’Shield down," Samu replied, turning back to Martin.
Martin looked surprised. "News sure travels fast."
"A lot of the academy staff watched that battle. It was a duel between Night Espresso’s well-known tanks. From what I heard from Ragnar, no one came away disappointed by either of you. You did well."
"Thanks." Martin smiled at the man. "But that battle wouldn’t have happened without Crimson Halo’s help. She convinced me to step up and do it, even if the details of the bet were... controversial. That’s why I want to repay her with a delicious meal. I need your help, Chef."
Samu chuckled. "Can’t refuse you on this one. Let’s raise the pitchforks!"
Martin chuckled too. "But first, I need to do something."
"Oh?" Samu looked over his shoulder.
That was when Martin called Angel out from her pocket dimension. She climbed onto the counter in the kitchen, and her little head emerged from the shell to sniff at the food.
Buracchu froze at the sight of her size, and so did Samu.
"By the Light that guides us, I didn’t expect her to grow so fast, even if I knew she would grow a lot! This is... the size of a level-three one? May the Light enlighten me!" Samu said, and Buracchu barked in agreement.
Martin deadpanned again.
How could Samu show two completely different sides in a single day? One respectful and gentlemanly, the other completely devoted to the Light.
Angel squealed.
"I’ll make you food soon," Martin said.
She nodded and retreated into her shell.
"Before she gets impatient, I’ll check out my trophy," Martin added. It was the second thing he wanted to do.
The sword appeared on the counter with a heavy thud that made nearby utensils jump.
Black metal caught the kitchen light in a dull, predatory sheen. Its shape really did resemble a wolf’s tooth, thick near the base and brutal all the way to the point. For a brief moment, the kitchen went quiet. Even the players lingering nearby leaned in before they could stop themselves.
They knew the weapon. Of course they did. Thorn’Shield had not lost just any sword. He had lost the blade people had seen in the ring, the one that had helped define his presence at a glance.
Martin wrapped his hand around the grip and felt the weight settle into his palm. It felt brutal, controlled, and far too good to be ordinary loot.
So Thorn’Shield really had lost something meaningful.
[Black Wolf Fangblade (Orange)]
[Type: One-handed Sword]
[Requirement: Lv. 5]
[Damage: 48-102]
[Strength: +116]
[Defense: +31]
[Agility: +47]
[Durability: 420/420]
[A thick black sword shaped like a wolf’s tooth. Its weight settles deep and steady in the hand, giving each strike a grounded, reliable feel, while its balance keeps the blade from becoming sluggish despite its brutal frame. Built for direct pressure and close-range exchanges, it rewards fighters who stay on their target and force openings through constant threat. Compared to lighter swords, it sacrifices some fluidity, but in return offers heavier presence, firmer control of space, and a far more dangerous answer against guarded opponents.]
[Death Jaw]
[Type: Sword Skill]
[Requirement: Black Wolf Fangblade]
[Mana Cost: 22]
[The sword’s orange aura thickens into phantom jaws that surge along the line of attack. Death Jaw can only be executed as a thrust. Its biting force is designed to slip through guarded moments, making it highly effective against standard defense and difficult to fully stop even with precise blocks. Against shield users and heavily defensive opponents, one clean hit can tear away a devastating amount of HP.]
Martin licked his lips.
That was one juicy weapon, and an even juicier steal.
A slow, private pleasure settled into him. Winning the duel had felt good. Taking this from Thorn’Shield after making the debt stick in public felt even better.
Then a notification flashed before his eyes.
[NukEncore has logged in.]
Martin stared at it for a moment.
What kind of reaction was she going to have to his duel?