Chapter 141
When the fragment of the Star of Ruin, Laves, crashed to the ground, its shockwave spread through all of Lostania. It wasn’t as catastrophic as the Inus Prairie, where it first landed, but boss monsters suddenly started appearing everywhere across the continent.
Elite monsters and bosses that used to be rare were spawning constantly and players couldn’t contain their excitement.
└ Fuck yeah! I killed four bosses over fourteen straight hours today. Boss spawn messages kept popping up, so me and nearby parties swarmed in together and beat the hell out of them. It was fucking fun.
└ Even a Level 15 newbie like me got to taste a boss raid. Thank you, devs, seriously.
└ I can’t believe we’re actually thanking those Möbius bastards.
└ LOL. It looked like the Möbius bastards cranked the difficulty way down this time. They probably got flamed to hell and back last round, so they held back a bit for once.
The event monsters didn’t drop loot, but they spewed out a ton of EXP. The balance hit that sweet spot of challenging but fair, making grinding finally feel fresh again.
Players never knew when an elite monster or boss might pop up nearby, and that sense of anticipation made leveling addictive. Working together on the fly with random parties to take down powerful enemies brought a whole new kind of fun. With that kind of excitement and solid rewards, no one had a reason to complain.
└ Still, when I saw the high-level players messing around in Inus Prairie, I honestly thought I should’ve grinded my level way harder.
└ Yeah, same here. Watching them move in huge groups and fight together makes it feel like they’re playing a completely different genre of game from us.
└ Whenever I’m not playing, I always leave Do-Jin’s stream on in the background. Every time I see him set up the tank line and melt everything with raw firepower, it feels like my chest just gets blown wide open.
The World Boss Raid itself was a spectacle. Every time Do-Jin streamed, over 200 players charged across the field, raiding enormous bosses in unison. Every moment looked cinematic, as if it were a real-time highlight reel.
But no one realized this entire event existed because of Do-Jin. Before he regressed, back when he hadn’t even started the game, the first World Boss Raid looked nothing like this.
From day one, guilds clashed. The Inus Prairie turned into a battlefield. Rivalries grew into hatred, players started sabotaging each other, and some even launched open attacks just to spite their enemies. The chaos escalated until monsters were spawning faster than players could kill them.
The balance collapsed, and eventually, the World Boss born from the fragment of the Star of Ruin broke through the prairie and invaded human territory. The power of ruin spread wider, and monsters everywhere started spawning at absurdly high levels. Level 30 bosses appeared in Level 10 zones. Players were wiped out instantly and forced to watch as their hunting grounds got overrun.
This time, things unfolded completely differently. Before the raid even started, Do-Jin shaped the tone himself, talking about cooperation and alliances, urging everyone to stay organized. He entered the Inus Prairie first and showed what a clean, orderly raid looked like. He made sure each party had its own zone, so no one got in anyone else’s way. When everyone followed the plan, fights went smoother and faster. By setting the first example, Do-Jin built order out of chaos.
“Ah, sorry about that. We got too hyped and ran into your area.”
“No worries. We weren’t exactly watching where we were going either. Since we’re all here, want to team up and clear that cluster over there? It’s a bit much for our group alone.”
“Sure thing. Let’s wipe them out together, then split back up.”
When players showed manners and respect, there was no reason for pointless fights. Sometimes, whole groups joined forces on the spot. That unity created massive synergy across the human faction. They fought better, leveled faster, and together, they crushed far more monsters than anyone had thought possible.
[The power of Ruin contained within the fragment of Laves is rapidly diminishing.]
A small change from Do-Jin had been the butterfly’s wingbeat that triggered a storm, and it wasn’t the only one.
└ I hopped through a bunch of streams, and Do-Jin still bulldozes forward the cleanest. He clears faster than groups running around with way more people, which is honestly fucking ridiculous.
└ Throwing more people in just makes the whole raid move like dogshit anyway. Once you pass a certain number, the damage is already there, so everything else just drags.
└ It’s probably the raid comp. Do-Jin’s built it weird as hell. Some raids have similar numbers and still hit like wet noodles. That mage-heavy setup is so busted.
└ Yeah, I felt that too watching it. Mages make up almost half the raid, and when you build a raid like that, the firepower goes completely off the rails.
└ From now on, guilds are definitely going to kidnap every high-level mage they see, lol. They might not matter much day to day, but for massive events like this, you absolutely need those fuckers.
└ There are barely any of them to begin with, and they level slow as hell, so mages over Level 100 are treated like mythical unicorns. Of course every guild is going to grab them early and never let go.
That was the next shift Do-Jin had sparked, a complete change in how people saw mages. Before this, they’d only been briefly re-evaluated thanks to Do-Jin’s absurd plays, but the consensus always snapped back: Unless you’re Do-Jin, don’t bother with the class. Mages were still seen as weak, impractical, and painfully slow to level.
However, that image shattered when Do-Jin led a raid with half his lineup made up of mages and absolutely tore through the battlefield, mowing down bosses left and right.
└ Our Lord and Savior Do-Jin, who once crushed the dignity of ordinary mages under his godlike control, has now personally restored it. —Do-Jin Gospel, Chapter 1, Verse 1.
└ The Mage Forum hereby withdraws all criticism of Do-Jin. From this moment, we stand united with him. Any insult to Do-Jin will be treated as an insult to all mages.
└ I honestly think that those who clawed their way to Level 100 as mages, while everyone treated them like dirt, should be recorded in history alongside Do-Jin as full-on mage rights activists.
Do-Jin’s reputation just kept soaring higher every single day. The usual complainers on the mage forums, the ones who used to say his god-tier playstyle made normal mages look useless, vanished completely.
Now, whenever someone even mentioned Do-Jin, the atmosphere turned fanatical. If anyone dared to badmouth him, people looked ready to drag them to the stake, pile up the wood, and shout “Ignite!” like it was a holy ritual.
***
Do-Jin had just finished tearing through the battlefield, using his two-hundred-man raid like a single war machine. Now, he was taking a short break in the safe zone. Each party had scattered into small groups to rest, and the mood couldn’t have been better. It made sense, since his raid held the highest record in the Inus Prairie, the heart of the World Boss event.
The mages, especially, were over the moon. After being treated like dead weight for so long, they were finally standing in the spotlight as the heroes of the battlefield.
“That’s strange,” said Tanto quietly, watching the group of excited mages chatter away.
“What do you mean, strange?” Do-Jin asked, rummaging through his inventory for some jerky.
Tanto wasn’t the kind of man to make empty comments. His instincts were razor-sharp, and if something about the situation bothered him, it was worth checking. But Do-Jin realized he’d completely misunderstood what the man meant.
“Well, how do I put it...” he said, sounding a little sheepish. “I’ve never really just... coasted like this before. I usually play solo, and even then, I always end up doing twice the work.”
“What do you mean ‘coasted’?!” Theresa snapped, whipping her head around. She had been feeding snacks to Soso before her temper flared. “Thanks to you cutting down all those mobs that broke through the line, the tanks could finally breathe.”
Lotus, who had also been holding the front line, nodded in agreement.
Do-Jin joined in. “She’s right. Even if our ranged DPS focus-fire fast and melt high-threat enemies, the front line still ends up under pressure. We’ve got a ton of mages, so our firepower drops off in close quarters. It’s the melee classes who have to cover that gap. Thanks to you, the whole raid fought a lot smoother.”
He didn’t say it vaguely, either. He laid out exactly what Tanto had done, step by step, and how much it had helped. Tanto’s body language immediately turned awkward. Even with a mask covering his face, Do-Jin could tell the man was flustered.
He scratched his cheek and spoke with that distinct, overly modest Japanese tone. “No, not at all. I’ve still got a lot to work on. It’s only because our raid leader guided us so well. The tanks held firm, the healers kept everyone alive, and I just... swung my sword.”
“Just swung your sword, huh?” Do-Jin couldn’t help but smirk internally.
Throughout the chaos of the battle, Do-Jin had to keep a wide view of the field. He needed to spot high-threat enemies fast, call out focus-fire targets, and sometimes even back up a collapsing tank line with burst damage.
But whenever he tried to assist a critical point that looked like it was about to fall apart, Tanto was already there. He was always one step ahead, darting across the field, cutting through enemies before they could threaten the formation. Tanto was the oil in the engine, keeping the raid’s momentum seamless and precise. That kind of performance was anything but “just swinging a sword.”
Typical Japanese modesty, Do-Jin thought. Or maybe he’s just so good that he honestly believes it’s no big deal.
“Anyway, don’t think you’re just coasting. If anything, it looks like you’re doing the work of five people by yourself.”
“No, no, no! There’s no way someone like me—!” Tanto stammered, waving his hands at Do-Jin as if to deflect the praise.
He didn’t press the point and moved on. “Besides, each party and raid group wasn’t built for a fight this big. These setups were meant for the final boss of the World Boss event.”
Lotus tilted his head. “The boss? That sounds like you’re saying the event isn’t just a wave of boss-level monsters. Do you know something about what’s coming, like where the next fragment might fall?”
Do-Jin smirked. “Come on. You really think LOST or Möbius is gonna wrap this up quietly?”
“Fair point,” Lotus said, nodding. “It has been going a little too smoothly.”
Tanto muttered something under his breath, his eyes wide with admiration. “Just as I expected...” He kept sneaking glances at Do-Jin, clearly impressed.
Then a group of mages, two men and three women in robes, approached. Each of them was holding a plate.
“Um... excuse me,” one of them said in a timid voice. “If it’s okay, would you like to try this? I’ve got a pretty high cooking skill, so I can promise it’ll taste good!”
On the plates were thick, perfectly grilled steaks, still steaming.
“I’m a huge fan!” another suddenly blurted out. “Thank you for proving that mages can actually shine in combat!”
“I’ve never felt this good playing a mage. Being part of this raid... it’s honestly an honor,” a third chimed in.
Their words were a little awkward, but their sincerity hit home. Do-Jin felt a quiet sense of gratitude and warmth. He filled his stomach with the steak, a meal far too refined for a battlefield, then rose to his feet again.
It was time to get back to work. He needed to keep fighting, killing, and pushing forward until the fragment of the Star of Ruin, which was spawning all these bosses, began to panic.
