Chapter 229
A new environment always brings a refreshing change of pace, revitalizing the mind. At the same time, it can also be nerve-wracking—so much so that things you could normally do without a second thought suddenly become difficult.
The Spirit World, this new environment, has given us a fresh wave of stimulation.
And yet—
"Go, everyone! Give it your all!!"
"OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
—It wasn't the kind of stimulation I expected, like watching a group of muscular men drenched in sweat, roaring in response to Amina's cheers.
Instead, I found myself staring at Seya and a group of spirits, their muscles bulging as they tugged on a rope in a heated game of tug-of-war. The surrounding spirits cheered them on.
Today, the Spirit World was blessed with clear skies.
Perfect weather for a sports festival.
"They're really getting into it, huh?"
"Yeah. All that all-night prep was worth it."
"You've worked hard, Libertà-sama."
Even though this was just a pre-event before the concert—with only three simple competitions: tug-of-war, giant ball rolling, and a scavenger hunt—the spirits were already fired up.
This was something even the game version of this world hadn't shown me—a full-blown muscle festival among the spirits.
Not just the basic elements of earth, water, fire, and wind—even the lightning, ice, light, and dark attribute spirits were flexing their strength in the tug-of-war.
It was, admittedly, an impressive sight.
I'd put Amina in charge of MC duties, and as expected, her natural charm had the spirits riled up, each one eager to show off their best side to her.
The rope looked like it might snap at any second as both teams gritted their teeth, veins popping as they strained with raw physical power.
From beneath a makeshift tent labeled "Staff," I watched the spectacle alongside Nel, who had just returned after supporting Amina.
"You look exhausted. You okay?"
"I regret pushing my level-grinded body to its limits now. If this stunt stunts my growth, I swear I'll curse every spirit here."
"You're fine the way you are, Libertà."
"As a man, I need at least a decent height! I crave being tall!"
Physically, I wasn't as drained as Nel seemed to think. The real issue was my brain running on empty from sugar depletion.
Between setting up the fan club's administrative systems with the Spirit King and drafting manuals for future members, I'd been burning the midnight oil.
The biggest hurdle?
Spirits don't have names.
How the hell do they even recognize each other?!
Turns out, they identify one another through the unique wavelengths of their souls.
But since I'm human and can't do that, I made damn sure every fan club member got a numbered ID.
Single-digit numbers were reserved for our party: Nel (1), me (2), Ingrid (3), Claudia (4), and Lady Esmeralda (5).
No issues there.
The spirits accepted it without complaint—mostly because Amina suggested it, and nobody was about to argue with her.
(Though, let's be real—an idol being part of her own fan club is a little weird.)
The real problem was the numbering after that.
The early supporters—specifically, the high-ranking wind spirits—demanded recognition.
Then others argued, "First come, first served!"
The resulting clash was so intense I had to ask the Spirit King to mediate.
As the honorary advisor (and not a numbered member himself), he weathered their jealous glares and delivered a Solomon-like judgment.
"The priority is ensuring Amina isn't saddened. Settle this peacefully."
Thus, this sports festival was born—a competition to decide who would claim the remaining single-digit spots (6 through 9).
The rule?
"If you want a prestigious number, prove your worth by making this event unforgettable!"
Amina, as MC, would decide the winners based on who brought the most energy to the festival.
And judging by the roaring crowd, the spirits were more than motivated.
"By the way," Nel said, sitting down beside me, leaving just a fist's width of space between us. "You've been so focused on event prep—what about getting stronger? Wasn't that your main goal?"
"We've all hit Class 4 and level-capped. Next step is upgrading our gear. I'm aiming for that Starry Silk we talked about. After that, it's Unique Skills, more leveling, and so on."
I'd already negotiated with the Spirit King—once the concert's costumes were ready, we'd hold the live show. After that, we'd space out events to once every two or three months, adjusting based on our training progress.
"Will that be enough?"
"With this many spirits helping, we're in a much better spot. Low-tier spirits are gathering herbs for potions, and even mid-tier ones have decent alchemy skills. It's a huge weight off my shoulders."
Thanks to the dark spirits' connections, we'd also met blacksmiths, tailors, and craftsmen among the spirits—all of them top-tier.
Long-lived races really do accumulate insane skills.
In the game, I'd never realized just how many skilled artisan spirits existed. Most players overlooked them in favor of combat-focused NPCs or their own overpowered builds.
But here?
It was a treasure trove.
"You look happy."
"Of course I am! Once we hit Class 5, gear optimization becomes critical. Enchants, specialized equipment like Dragon Slayer gear, status resistance—it's a nightmare to manage alone."
Automating even some of that—potions, equipment maintenance—would save so much time.
In the game, I'd started a clan for this exact reason.
Solo play was inefficient.
But now?
Thanks to Amina, we'd skipped years of groundwork.
"They're spirits, though."
"Doesn't matter. Human, beastkin, fairy, scaledfolk, spirit—if they're skilled, I'm recruiting them!"
In FBO, the real key to strength wasn't just raw power—it was how well you secured your support network.
Neglect that, and you'd waste years playing catch-up.
This head start?
Priceless.
As I watched the festival, a rare sense of satisfaction settled over me.
We were on the right path.
And this was only the beginning.