When Sam’s eyes opened, an endless sky stretched out in front of him. It was light-blue, like the color of a shallow pond in the midday. There were no clouds.

The temperature was frigid. Sam stood up slowly, letting the accumulated snow shake off of him. Taking a deep breath, he noted the air was thin.

Finally, the view hit Sam like a dragon’s tail. He turned in a slow circle, staring out at the distant horizon. The world opened up in front of him like a storybook, and tears ran down his face.

He was no longer in the ‘Tutorial’. Instead, now, he was standing on the very highest point of the tallest mountain on the continent of Braxia.

Sam pulled his backpack off his back and pulled out his newest book, opening up to the map. Comparing the map to the other mountains in his view, he quickly ascertained the cardinal directions, as well as his own location.

Sam screamed at the top of his lungs, a long guttural cry lacking any verbiage in any known language. It was something primal, a cross between joy and rage. It was a cry of existence; it was pure catharsis.

Sam was free.

-

Sam considered the strange blue-screen that he had seen at the end of the dungeon. It mentioned that he would respawn at the top of the mountain whenever he died.

Sam was tentative for a moment, but then he clenched his fists and unsheathed his sword. In one motion, he slit his own throat.

Welcome to Braxia!

Sam sucked in his first breath hard. He looked around and found he was still on the mountaintop, but now the sky was covered with a film of gray. The soft rumbling of thunder echoed in the distance.

Sam stood up and looked at the horizon, only to find it shrouded in low-lying clouds. Clouds above and below gave the world an odd juxtaposition.

Sam’s armor, backpack, and sword all came with him. He checked over his body, and found his scars from the Jungle-level of the tutorial were still there. Finding the scars he so treasured gave him an amazing feeling of relief.

Sam walked across the summit until he came to the place he had slit his own throat. The snow was reddened, but there was no sign of his body, as if it had simply vanished.

For all intents and purposes, Sam was immortal.

A few thoughts came to Sam. His spawn point was, undeniably, his greatest strength… It was also his greatest weakness. If he ever made enemies in the future and they discovered where he respawned, it would be far too easy for them to simply put down a trap on the spot. Perhaps remodel the top of the mountain into an active volcano or some other obscene and horrid trap.

Sam didn’t imagine constantly coming to life in the middle of a lava pool would be an overly comfortable way to spend eternity.

-

In order to protect the mountaintop, Sam set out creating powerful safety measures. He erected a barrier around the entire peak and set up magic traps that would detonate with indescribable fury. He used illusion magic to deceive and repel anyone who dared approach his mountain home.

Sam used all of his magic skills and his concrete potions to erect a stone temple. He used the Demon Lords’ visages for statues and conjured powerful elemental beings to defend it.

Sam wanted to desperately see the world, but his own safety came first. Ten years in the Jungle taught him that paranoia could be a powerful ally at times.

-

For 10 years Sam stayed at his mountain home, setting up defense measures and living leisurely. He had enough food stored to last him a century, but his own excitement for seeing the world at large began to overwhelm him. Afflicted by a powerful wanderlust, Sam stared out at the world with longing eyes. Every moment he spent on that mountaintop began to hurt his spirit. He wanted to see other people like him. He wanted to meet other humans.

And so Sam finished his preparations. Using the star positions to foretell, he planned his departure for a clear, weatherless day.

On a calm day in the 3rd Month, Sam finally began his journey down the mountain. His destination was the Kriegan Empire, the home of Archmage Roland, the author of the beginner’s magic tome.

As he climbed further and further down the mountain, the snowy icescape gave way to a forest of needled trees, each a different shade of dark-green. The smell of their pitch was familiar. Visions of a needle-tree covered in glowing lights and bulbous glass ornaments flashed in Sam’s mind. Fragments of memories long forgotten swirled in the ether of his thoughts.

He walked up to one of the trees and lightly touched a branch, letting the needles brush over his fingers. He noticed a small fruit-like object hanging from the branch and plucked it. It was hard and flakey, with concentric rings of strange tab-like protrusions. It did not taste good.

Sam couldn’t remember the name of the odd brown fruit, and he didn’t find its taste as familiar as its image. Defeated, he simply tossed it aside and continued his hike down the mountainside.

The further Sam descended the less often he was privy to distant views. The trees grew taller and more robust, their bark thick like the hide of a Yeti. The forest seemed to grow around him, and on occasion Sam took a moment to stand perfectly still and listen to the sounds of nature and breathe in the chilled mountain air. The wind tasted sweet like red fruits from the Jungle.

The snow on the ground gradually began to thin, and the silence of the mountain peak ended with new birdsong. Jays and Weavers zipped overhead, gathering food for their hatching young. Sam found himself whistling along, sometimes adding to them lyrics of songs on the fringes of his memory.

Everything was interesting to him. He had forgotten much over the years, and he hoped to learn again about the world. He took his time and walked slow, enjoying every new sight and smell.

-

Sam traveled down the mountain using magic to supplant traditional climbing gear in harsher terrains. Chasms, cliffs, and rockslides were little danger to him. He had faced far harder foes in his years traveling the Tutorial.

As he approached the base of the mountain, the area around Sam opened up into wide meadows. The trees grew sparse and he could see ahead for miles. Near the mountain he spotted a beaten dirt roadway with thin wagon marks stretching alongside the mountain.

Judging by the road’s direction, the northwards way would lead to a nearby township while the southbound road would circle around the mountain towards the Lazann Kingdom.

Sam looked up at the sky, confirming the afternoon sun, and decided to head towards the town. While he could cast magic to improve his running speed and circle the mountain in an hour or two, Sam wanted to take in the scenery and enjoy his walk. It also helped that the Kriegan Empire he wanted to visit was to the north as well.

-

Sam followed the dirt road as it cut around hills and through meadows. The tall grasses on each side of the roadway were filled with colorful flowers and saplings. Sam guessed that the land here had been farmland as recently as 20 years ago. It didn’t take long for nature to reclaim forgotten pastures. He predicted the surrounding lands would be a burly woodland within another two or three decades.

As the road curved a particularly large hillside, a distant wall came into view. The wall was long and made of half-logs stacked vertically, forming ramparts.

Outside the wall, farmland stretched for hundreds of yards, eventually reaching a line of simple fencing. Several men and women could be seen out in the fields planting seeds or tilling the land. They wore cotton-like clothing, mostly long-sleeved and weather-worn. The womenfolk wore long dresses while the men preferred suspenders and cufflinked shirts.

They looked to be a rural, hardworking people.

A few of the farmers noticed Sam and seemed to reel at the sight. Sam didn’t blame them. He cut an impressive figure with his large muscles and scarred body. The sword on his hip and his beaten leather armors probably didn’t help much, either.

Most of the farmers, after getting a good look, averted their eyes. A few of the tougher looking menfolk leaned against their tools and glared, as if in challenge.

Sam simply waved his hand and smiled, offering no hostility himself. This was the first time he had seen other people in many many years, and his excitement over that fact kept his mood from souring.

A guardsman dressed in steel mail waved at Sam from the nearby gate, “Greetings, traveler! You must be quite accomplished to travel the South Road. What purpose do you have in our town of Madda?” Tufts of red hair leaked out of his helmet and his frame was rather large. He had the build of a professional wrestler. The guard looked as if he had seen his fair share of combat over the years. In his right hand was a long spear with a black haft.

“M-my n-name’s Sam,” Sam stuttered with a smile, his words slow and pronounced harsh. He hadn’t spoken aloud much outside of magic chants, considering the Demon Lords usually communicated telepathically. “I’m on a j-journey to the K-kriegan Emp-p-pire. I hoped to st-stay the night at an inn.”

“You’ve got some pretty sturdy looking armor there. And the sword at your hip looks sharp,” said the guard as he rubbed his chin, paying no mind to Sam’s poor communication skills. His voice was filled with curiosity. “Do you have any identification papers with you?”

“Id-identification papers?” Sam asked.

“Yes, you’re coming up the Southern Road, so I can only assume you’re a Knight from Lazann, or perhaps a Hunter from the Guild. Do you have proof of citizenship there, or maybe a Guild card?”

“I ha-have n-none of those things. I’ve lived my l-life on the m-mount-m-m… the World’s Crown,” Sam replied, deciding a half-truth might help him get through the village gate. The shame of his poor speaking was beginning to take a toll on him.

“The mountain? There were a few sparse homesteads on the mountainsides, but with the increased monster activity over the last ten years we assumed all of them were overrun,” the guard replied in a quiet voice.

“In-increased monster activity?” Sam asked. When he lived at the peak it seemed most monster habitats in the upper mountain were barren. Why was the base of the mountain dealing with increased monster activity?

The lack of monsters was something Sam had found strange. He set up a ton of countermeasures to deal with monster activity at his spawn point over the last decade, but hardly any monsters ever appeared. The few that did weren’t aggressive at all. In his book on habitats, the World’s Crown was supposed to have numerous stronger monsters near the peak…

“Wait, th-the last ten years?” Sam asked, suddenly realizing something.

“Aye, lad,” replied the guard. “Listen, if you really are from the mountain then the mayor will want to ask you a few questions. He’s been wanting to send a survey crew to the mountain for a few—” The guard stopped mid sentence and his eyes went wide. He started yelling, “SHIT! Sound the alarm! Oy, Bartson, get your boys out of there!”

The guard’s sudden change in tone startled Sam, who took a step back. It was at that moment he finally sensed a small number of approaching mana sources. They had been so small he didn’t take note of them before. Turning quick, Sam caught sight of a dog-shaped demon. He recognized the beast as a ‘Turtle Wolf’, a type of territorial pack monster that possessed a defensive shell. It was physically weaker and slower to compensate for those defenses, having only the same level of power as a Goblin Warleader—the first foe Sam ever fought.

The red-headed guard took off at a dead sprint towards the beasts. A loud bell began booming over the area. The farmers in the field started to scatter, but they were all moving too slow. A monster was going to claim a life before the guard could get there. Sam felt confused for a moment. To him, everyone looked to be moving in slow-motion… Then he realized they weren’t moving slow, he was just so accustomed to high-speed movements that they seemed slow to him.

Not willing to let one of the first humans he’d met since coming to the mortal plane die, Sam gripped his scabbard and unsheathed his blade. He jogged forward at an easy pace and stopped a Turtle Wolf’s paw inches from its intended victim.

To all the farmers and the red-headed guard, Sam simply vanished from where he stood and reappeared in front of the monster. A powerful wind roared in his wake, knocking several people off their feet as they stared on in shock.

Three more Turtle Wolves leapt the fencing from the overgrown fields, each targeting a different farmer. Sam frowned. In one motion, he slashed up and cut the first wolf in two. In a flash, he jumped nearly 100 yards and split the skull of a second and then a third beast.

Finally, he charged a small Ruin magic and tossed it, boring a hole through the last monster’s chest and killing it instantly.

Sam’s frown turned into a smile as he pivoted to face the people he saved, only to find them staring at him in much the same manner they stared at the monsters.

The red-headed guard ran up to Sam, his eyes wide. He huffed a few times to catch his breath.

“I’m very sorry for my disrespect, Mr. Sam,” the guard said as he bowed, his tone far more formal than before. “I hadn’t realized. You must be an undercover ‘A’ ranked or higher member of the Guild. Please, allow me guide you to the mayor of the town.”

As he finished saying that three more guards appeared from the town walls, each walking slow, the amazement on their faces clear as day.

“Charlie, Jack, Will, clean up the corpses. Afterwards, Charlie you take over my spot on the wall while I guide our guest, here,” the redhead called. The other three guards nodded in affirmation.

Sam decided it would be troublesome to dispute his status with the guard. Perhaps the mayor would be more reasonable.

Sam followed the redhead and noted how quickly the farmers cleared a path for them. All of the menfolks’ expressions had changed. Where some had viewed Sam with challenge in their eyes before, now there was only fear and reverence.