Dark Fantasy Normalized

*[Title: WTF, the Fate Quest Changed the Game Completely]*

*Content:*

Why the hell are these mobs suddenly adding an extra zero to their levels? 😂

I saw a level 27 and thought it was a boss, but nope—it was just a grunt mob.

Seriously, what are you even doing here as a grunt? Go back down where you’re a boss, LOL.

- "Better to be the tail of a dragon than the head of a chicken."

- "Is it really the tail of a dragon, though?"

- "Maybe it’s the chicken’s tail."

- "The fact that this might be the fact is also a fact."

- "Haha, newbs, always smelling trouble. From level 1 to 99, just chaos all around."

- "Judging by the named mobs’ levels, it’s a freaking delight to be alive."

---

*[Title: Why Are Adventurers So Weak?]*

*Content:*

This guy’s supposed to be from a first-rate guild, but his level is barely 10.

- "Well, in this world’s setting, that’s actually considered strong, isn’t it?"

- "Yep. Even noble brats who barely hit level 10 by the age of 20 are treated like living weapons among commoners."

- "Level 10 equals third tier, right? You’d need years of martial and mana training to reach that level by 20."

- "So, an extraordinary commoner equals an average noble? Roughly."

- [OP]: "No wonder nobles strut around like they own the place."

- "Still, at the top levels, adventurers hold their own."

- "Yeah, top-tier named adventurers average fifth tier."

- "But they’re all worn out..."

- "Right? Anyone above fifth tier is over 30."

- "And even 30 is considered young prodigy territory."

- "Aren’t there exceptions? Youngsters who hit fifth tier or higher?"

- "Sure, but those guys are always getting screwed over by Fate Quests."

- "Goddamn, lol."

---

Kella was a veteran adventurer, despite her relatively young age.

With over ten years of experience under her belt, she was now on the cusp of reaching the third tier.

This made her someone even minor nobles in Bondales wouldn’t dare to dismiss lightly—especially once they found out she belonged ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) to the prestigious **Draphon Adventurers' Guild**.

With her skills and judgment honed by years in the field, Kella had an undeniable pride in her expertise.

And from her perspective, Lysir was... ordinary.

Though his appearance had a refined, almost noble quality, his gentle and relaxed demeanor made it clear he was far from the noble class.

If Lysir had been a noble and, like his peers, had reached the third tier, Kella would have been mildly surprised.

But if Lysir turned out to be far beyond that...

---

“M-magic?! Lysir, was that you?!”

Kella, struggling to process the situation, found herself uncharacteristically flustered.

Her assessment of Lysir shifted dramatically.

Perhaps his mild demeanor was a mask, concealing something extraordinary.

“Miss Kella,” Lysir said, breaking the silence.

“Yes? Oh, yes! Master Lysir, please speak!”

Her casual tone shifted to one of reverence.

‘Master?’ Lysir thought, slightly baffled by the sudden change in attitude, but continued.

“Do you know anything about these people?”

“No! I’ve got no idea! Who the hell struts around Bondales in broad daylight causing this kind of ruckus—”

“We have no business with you!” one of the hooded figures shouted from the group’s forefront.

---

“If you don’t interfere, we won’t bother you! Leave now, and we’ll act as if this never happened!”

“You know,” Lysir mused, “usually you extend a handshake first and swing a sword if that doesn’t work. Not the other way around. Are you trying to take shortcuts in life?”

The cloaked man faltered but stood his ground.

---

Though Lysir was tempted to agree and let them leave peacefully, he knew better. The world didn’t work that way.

These were the kind of people who wouldn’t hesitate to kill after being spotted in an empty alley. Trusting their words would be foolish.

---

And then, Lysir’s gaze locked onto something.

‘There it is.’

A hooded man in the group was cornering a young wolf cub, holding out a ring set with obsidian.

The eerie aura Lysir had sensed earlier was emanating from the ring.

‘That thing... if I let them leave with it, they’re going to wreak havoc somewhere else.’

Determination flared within him. This aura would be normalized.

---

“Miss Kella,” he asked, “what would adventurers normally do in a situation like this?”

“An attack on a guild member is an attack on the guild! If this were Draphon, we’d subdue them and uncover their motives!”

“Then you intend to capture them and take them back to the guild?”

“...Uh, yes?”

“Great. I’ll assist you.”

“...Thank you?”

---

Kella blinked. Wasn’t this guy the one who entered the alley first? Wasn’t he the one attacked first?

Still, her instincts told her not to let this strange connection with Lysir slip away.

---

Meanwhile, the cloaked men exchanged glances, their confidence shattered as they eyed their unconscious leader.

One of them made a decision, turning tail and fleeing in the opposite direction.

---

“Hmm,” Kella nodded. “Smart move.”

For her, running away seemed like the most logical choice.

---

But Lysir saw it differently.

‘He’s going for reinforcements!’

His mind, warped by his skewed experiences, spiraled into paranoia. What if they bring a sixth-tier combatant? What if it’s necromancers? What if—

Lysir shook his head. “I’ve gotten too cocky.”

---

Before he could dwell further, the remaining hooded figures broke ranks and fled, panicked by Lysir’s intensity.

“...”

As Lysir watched them scatter, clarity returned.

Their amateurish actions didn’t align with the sinister conspirators he’d imagined.

“Pathetic fools...” he muttered.

One of the men clutching the obsidian ring froze as Lysir turned to him.

The man hesitated but eventually bolted after his comrades.

---

Using a burst of wind magic, Lysir incapacitated him and swiftly pursued the others, subduing them with ease.

---

“Magic mastery like that... Is he fifth tier? At his age?”

From a distance, Kella watched in awe, her own sense of reality beginning to fray.

---

At the same time, Lord Meltas received an unexpected visitor in his study: **Master Didoa**, casually inquiring about Lysir.

Meltas sighed. “If you’re so curious about him, why not just visit him directly?”

“...That’d be too forward,” Didoa replied.

Their antics continued, while elsewhere, Gadena was reluctantly preparing to accompany Didoa to meet Lysir, grumbling all the while.

---

Back in the alley, Lysir held the obsidian ring in his hand.

“What’s that?” Kella asked cautiously.

“Oh, nothing. Just a ring imbued with dark magic.”

“...!”

Kella instinctively stepped back. Meanwhile, Lysir’s gaze shifted to the wolf cub still on the ground.

The cub growled, not in fear but in longing, its eyes fixed on the ring.

**‘A stimulant?’** Lysir thought, sensing the magic’s pull on the creature’s instincts.

Instead of purifying the ring, he turned his power toward the wolf.

---

The cub’s body shimmered, its shape distorting before it expanded into that of a wolf-eared woman.

“Finally, damn it!” she exclaimed, her rough tone startling Lysir.

“...?”

Her coarse language was at odds with her appearance, leaving Lysir speechless.