Chapter 78- Two cubs.
"The Global Labor Index now estimates that more than billions of workers worldwide have abandoned conventional employment to play Myth Online full-time," the anchor reported, voice steady and clear.
The studio lights caught the anchor’s composed features as she shuffled a thin stack of papers with practiced precision. Behind her, the floating holographic display flickered with cascading data streams and muted footage of empty warehouse floors and shuttered storefronts.
"Logistics and retail sectors across multiple continents are reporting critical staffing shortages. Economists have already begun referring to the phenomenon as the Myth Exodus."
A secondary graphic bloomed beside her shoulder: auction graphs climbing in near-vertical lines.
"In-game assets remain the fastest-growing asset class on record. One anonymous player recently confirmed the private resale of a single pair of Epic-grade boots for a sum our financial analysts describe only as... substantial."
She paused, letting the weight of the number settle over the silent studio, then continued.
"Which brings us to the individual currently dominating every major discussion board and corporate war room. A blacksmith. Many believe this same artisan is responsible for the successive world announcements that have flooded every blacksmith-related channel in the game."
"Now, even national militaries and Fortune-tier corporations are pouring resources into Myth Online, forming dedicated guilds and offering open contracts for this blacksmith."
Her tone shifted, becoming sharper. "That leads us directly to tonight’s main story."
The screen behind her brightened. Footage rolled: a press conference packed with microphones from every major network.
A woman in a perfectly tailored black suit stepped to the podium. She looked to be in her later twenties, gray hair drawn back in a severe knot, no jewelry except a plain steel watch on her left wrist.
The chyron identified her instantly.
ELONA MOSK — CEO & Co-Founder, Nexus AI ,Telsa and SpaceZ
A reporter’s voice cut through the ambient noise. "Ms. Mosk, you’ve publicly announced your intention to invest in Myth Online—and specifically in one particular player. Analysts are already calling it the largest single private investment in history. What is driving this decision?"
Elona Mosk leaned toward the cluster of microphones. Her voice was smooth, measured, and absolute.
"Because everyone is looking at the wrong thing. The market sees a game. The armies see a training ground. But the last unexplored frontier of the twenty-first century is not Mars."
She let the silence stretch just long enough for the statement to land.
"It is the world of Myth Online. And a man who can reshape that world using nothing but blacksmithing skill. That is pure talent—the mind of innovation, a genius that appears once in a century. I know you are out there, probably watching this. If you are, come join me. My door is open."
Reporters erupted. Mosk stepped back from the microphones without another word, the cameras tracking her measured exit.
In the studio the anchor sat motionless for a beat after the feed cut, her expression carefully serious.
"And there is one more matter we must present tonight. The genius pro-gamer long celebrated for legendary mechanical precision and near-impossible reaction speed continues to dominate inside Myth Online. He is still creating wave after wave."
.....
"He is the Sky. The King of Reflex. The Height. Player Caelum. Currently the highest-ranked player in the entire game—while remaining an ordinary swordsman class."
Clips of past tournament victories and recent in-game combat footage played in rapid succession: clean parries, impossible footwork, decisive kills delivered with ordinary steel.
"Please stay tuned for further updates on Myth Online. Good night."
The screen went dark, then immediately filled with a bright commercial for some new energy drink.
Leo stood in the middle of his small room of the smithy, a half-eaten piece of bread still in his mouth and a cooling cup of coffee in his free hand. He stared at the blank television for several long seconds, eyes wide.
He swallowed.
"Wow," he muttered around the bread. "I didn’t know I was that famous. Even the richest woman on Earth just invited me to join her company for exploring Myth Online. When there are already signs of mergers and buyouts... maybe I should actually visit her. Tell her the real story. Secure an ally while the door is still open."
He chewed thoughtfully. The name Caelum meant nothing to him.
He had never paid attention to professional gamers before—their rankings, their titles, their endless highlight reels.
Just another top-ranked player, apparently. Someone to keep an eye on later.
He would learn the hard way that the title of number one had not been given for nothing.
A sharp knock rattled the smithy door.
"Leo! Leo, are you in there?"
"Mr. Hargrove? One minute!" Leo shouted, setting the coffee down, wiping crumbs from his mouth, and quickly pulling on a clean shirt. He hurried down the narrow stairs and opened the door.
Mr. Hargrove burst inside like a man who had been waiting all morning to talk. "Hey! Did you see the news? That forger fellow—and that Mosk woman—" He whistled low. "Trillionaire. First one in history, they say. Said she’d hire him for any price. You believe that?"
Before Leo could form an answer, another head appeared around the doorframe. The girl from the Salle.
"What are you doing here?" Leo asked. "Is Master Rook with you?"
She shook her head and gave a wry, exhausted smile. "Master has been logged in since yesterday. He’s acting like some addict high on whatever the game feeds him. He logged out once, told me to come find you, and said to add him. His name is Sword Master."
With that she turned and left without waiting for a reply, frustration still visible in the set of her shoulders.
Mr. Hargrove watched her go, then looked back at Leo. "She came by your apartment before, you know. Looking for you. Had a scary-looking old man with her."
Leo nodded. "I remember."
"There isn’t any trouble, is there?" Hargrove asked, genuine concern softening his voice.
"No trouble," Leo reassured him. They exchanged a few more ordinary words about the neighborhood and the weather before Hargrove finally left, still muttering about trillionaires and forgers.
Leo finished the last of his coffee, climbed back to his room, and stretched out on the bed.
"Connect."
Golden light flared. When it faded he stood once more inside the forge dimension. Hugh was still there, seated near the central anvil, a long scroll unrolled across his knees.
In his free hand a flame flickered restlessly between ordinary red and a deep, unstable black.
[Ding~]
[Notifications: 4,217]
Leo blinked at the number, then opened the backlog and began scrolling.
Friend requests by the hundred.
Guild invitations from organizations whose names carried real-world weight.
Auction-house messages offering absurd sums for any Epic-grade item he was willing to list.
One particularly bold guild had simply offered to buy him outright—permanent exclusive contract, name your price.
Near the top of the list he found Shen’s message.
"Still stuck in the dungeon. Saw the world announcement. My gut says it’s you. Help me forge an Epic-rank item too when you can."
Leo smiled and typed a short reply. "Sure."
He closed the panel and turned toward Hugh. "Hey, old man. Looks like you’re only a step away from a breakthrough."
He took the scrolls from Hugh’s hands, activated Forge Sight, and translated the dense script with practiced speed.
Within minutes he had copied the essential passages onto fresh parchment and handed everything back.
Hugh’s eyes sparkled as he accepted the papers.
"You stay here," Leo said. "I’ll be back in a while."
He teleported out of the dimension, reappearing at the mouth of the Direfang Warg’s den—the same place where he had fought the beast and nearly died against the Epic-rank player who had interfered.
He extended his senses, searching for any trace of his Ember touched sword or lingering presence.
Nothing....
He sighed and stepped inside.
The cave was not a simple hollow. It was a branching network of tunnels that twisted deeper into the rock. Leo moved carefully, passive Foresight scanning continuously. Five minutes passed with nothing but the drip of distant water and the scrape of his boots.
Then, after a sharp turn, the ability pinged.
[Ding]
[Detected life signatures... nearby...]
He followed the tunnel for another two minutes and emerged into a larger chamber.
Soft light filtered through narrow cracks in the ceiling, illuminating a nest of dried straw and fur. Two small cubs lay curled against each other.
They were the size of round loaves of bread—chubby, stubby-legged, bellies dragging against the nest.
Their fur was matte black like their mother’s, broken by faint silver patches.
The first cub had a pale ash-gray mark across its chest and enormous round eyes that took up half its face. The second’s eyes were a softer ash-gold.
The moment they sensed him, both opened their eyes.
The gray-patched cub let out a soft *grrr* that was clearly meant to be terrifying and failed completely.
It charged, tripped over its own paws, and bonked its head against a rock.
It looked up at Leo with one ear flopped and one standing, then tried the growl again. The result was somehow even cuter.
The second cub remained in the nest, watching him with cautious golden eyes, both ears half-flopped.
Leo stepped closer. The charging cub reached his boots and promptly sat on them, still attempting to look fierce.
In the far corner he noticed a small cache of meat—supplies left by their mother, enough to keep the pair healthy and round until now.
He crouched, picked up the cub on his boots, and offered it a strip of the meat. The little creature accepted the food at once and stopped growling.
Leo settled it on his shoulder and turned toward the nest.
The second cub bolted.
It darted across the chamber in frantic, clumsy zigzags, giving Leo an immediate headache.
He tried coaxing, soft calls, even a ridiculous "Stay, good kitten—here, here."
Nothing worked.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Surtr was laughing so hard the sound felt like it might split his skull.
Left with no other option, Leo used Shadow Lunge.
One clean flicker of movement and the second cub was securely in his arms, still squirming but no longer able to escape.
He held them both carefully—one on his shoulder, one against his chest—and teleported straight back into the forge dimension.