Chapter 27: Legacy
A Legacy was, in many ways, a cheat—a shortcut left behind by capricious gods who delighted in playing games across multiple worlds. These legacies bestowed rare items, skills, and abilities that could change the entire game for anyone fortunate enough to find them and survive the trials.
But Azalea wasn’t here for those trappings. According to his knowledge of the game, this particular Legacy held two rare alchemical ingredients he desperately needed—ingredients so scarce that acquiring them without drawing unwanted attention would be impossible. They were extremely rare, and the risks of obtaining them were astronomical.
In the game, the House Poltren of Albion—the very same house from which Vivian hailed—had once raided this world. In doing so, they not only secured dangerous tier relics but also three prized ingredients: Quillin seeds, Narasel roots, and the Petal of Fire. These items were crazy expensive, and Azalea needed them in vast quantities if he intended to grow stronger.
"Haa... Are you sure you want to do this?" Anna asked, worry evident in her tone. "A Legacy world is extremely dangerous. How about I just give you money? Name your price."
But he didn’t answer. He only stared at the massive stone, deep in thought as he meticulously planned his next move. Yes, she was right—Legacy worlds were notoriously perilous. Most of them trapped the user until every trial was overcome, and those trials were hellish, boasting only about a 30% success rate. Yet, as he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Anna feeding the horse, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.
"Hm..." he hummed thoughtfully. The odds of him surviving unscathed were slim, but with Anna’s uncanny talent, the chances of success climbed to a staggering 70%. In that moment, he decided that the risk was worth the reward.
"We are going in," he declared.
Vivian gritted her teeth. "Are you insane?! You’re weaker than I am—even with these damned cuffs on! Do you know what kind of monsters live in Legacies?!"
Her voice cracked from frustration. She was at her limit. How could anyone tolerate a lunatic like this? She glanced back at Anna, hoping for support—but the moment their eyes met, her heart sank.