It was a world where bizarre cultures were common. There were many areas in the world that were out of reach. The more closed off the place, the more bizarre it was. 

‘There are really many things that are different from the usual.’

From the very beginning, and just based on the clothing that they wore, Grenier’s natives were bizarre. They were covered with monster skins and decorated with skulls. They were wearing outfits worthy of the temperament of skinning people alive. 

Grid confronted them casually. He realized the vastness of the world through these bizarre barbarians. 

“What...?” 

On the other hand, the natives were shocked, like they had been struck by lightning. It was different from Grid, who had witnessed and experienced many things in the world. They were just frogs at the bottom of a well. For those who believed that Grenier was the whole world, the transcendent presence coming from Grid was a concept that was difficult to accept. 

“What do I look like?” 

“......”

The man who appeared silently and snatched their companions. No one answered Grid’s question. There was only silence. Many natives were dazzled by the wave of energy being emitted by the Overgeared God that spread an orange light. The sun that lit up their mornings and day was actually divine. God had descended. God was angry. Etc, etc. 

It happened just before the thoughts that emerged uncontrollably in the minds of the natives were expressed in words... 

“Hey!” The woman wearing the ogre skull shouted. The veins on her neck bulged as she shouted loudly to cover up her trembling voice. She, the chief of the Removal Tribe, felt fear. 

Only a few seconds had passed since an unidentified intruder broke into the scene. Envy filled the eyes of the tribe people looking at the intruder. It was a similar reaction when facing the guardian of the Mountain King. Something that shouldn’t happen was about to happen... 

“He is a guy who uses very evil black arts! I’m sure he is the king of the yōkai! Block your ears! Shut your mouth! Keep your eyes open! Hold the spear and stab him!” the chief shouted loudly. 

She wasn’t concerned at all about her companions caught and struggling in Grid’s hands. Did what others were being subjected to matter? The natives had lived on the barren mountain and had limited lives. Only their own safety was precious. 

“Wahhhh!” 

The tribe people of the Removal Tribe obeyed the chief. It was because the chief managed the honey they collected from the cliff at the risk of their lives, and the milk of very precious mountain goats. Submitting to the chief was the only way to enrich their lives. 

Just then, Grid split into two people. It wasn’t a big deal. He simply summoned Randy. 

The doppelganger of the mysterious forest—thanks to Pagma’s kindness, he copied Pagma’s appearance and abilities, and maintained it for many years. This meant he was familiar with the power of a legend even before meeting Grid. Since then, he had developed steadily alongside Grid. In addition to copying Grid’s appearance, he had reached the point where he could implement 50% of Grid’s stats. In other words—

“Kuaaaaak!” 

“Hiiik!” 

The enemies Grid usually dealt with were rare and strong opponents. This meant that Grid often used Randy as a meat shield. However, it was not because he underestimated Randy. It was simply inevitable because the enemies were too strong. Yet when facing ordinary (?) enemies like now, Randy alone was enough. 

“B-Black arts...?! That yōkai’s black arts is too much... Cough!” 

The natives were helplessly thrown aside. The two intruders suddenly swung their hands and feet, and the natives couldn’t even respond. They were confused as soon as they saw it. 

“T-That person...?” 

The monks that were hanging precariously upside down with their ankles tied by the rope—they were caught by barbarians they couldn’t communicate with at all and were waiting for death. Now they belatedly came to their senses and looked at the situation. 

The fierce barbarian soldiers, who were like beasts and didn't know reason, were reduced to sheeps that were being chased. It was too much to laugh at them for being unseemly. The intruder was too strong. The moment he took a step, he stretched out like a gale. The movement of his fists and kicks was very beautiful. He occupied all directions with a single movement and neutralized the resistance of the barbarians. They thought he was an unknown strong person who had been honing his fist and kick techniques in the mountains all his life. 

This was until they took a closer look at his face. 

“Gasp! O-Overgeared God...!” 

A monk was different from ordinary religious people. They didn’t have the illusion that the **** they served was noble and almighty. In fact, most of the gods that the monks served came from an ordinary human origin. The **** of hunting, Debirion, was also like this. As a human, Debirion was the best hunter. 

He was able to become rich by catching many wild animals every day, yet he distributed the leather and meat to the villagers for free. He only sold it to wealthy people for a reasonable price. It was thanks to Debirion’s warmth that the villagers could live while being exploited by their lords. They didn’t tremble in the cold thanks to the leather he gave them, and they didn’t starve due to the meat he gave them. Debirion even taught people how to hunt well. All the villagers were good at hunting, so he didn’t regret it, even if he might have to go hungry. This was his cause until the moment when he died alone in the mountains. 

For the monks, gods were such an existence. A worthy and respectable object to learn from, even if there were foolish sides. Therefore, they respected the gods even more. Unlike the followers of the three gods and Yatan, the monks didn’t reject the gods served by others. They weren’t prejudiced against Grid because he had a human origin, deny him because he wasn’t almighty, or disparage him by evaluating his actions. They affirmed he was a **** without any such thing. 

“Haha... I think Debirion led us to the Overgeared God, not the Mountain King,” an old man with a friendly face spoke. Since he was hanging upside down for a long time, blood flowed as he smiled with a puffy face. He was quite broad-minded. It was a monk’s temperament. Monks weren’t shaken by trials. The process of patiently overcoming trials was considered training. Of course, this was limited to NPCs. 

Med’s thinking was extremely normal. He twisted his body and urged his group, “It isn’t the time to laugh. We should try to escape in this gap.” 

“Huhu, it is hard to break the rope because all our belongings have been taken away.” 

“Haha, yes. I should’ve trained my abs and masticating muscles harder.” 

They raised their upper body, bit the rope with the teeth, stopped to recover their breathing, raised their upper body again, and bit the rope.The group kept talking while repeating this. They were relaxed in a manner that didn’t fit the urgent situation. They were laughing while sweating and only Med was impatient. 

‘It seems I have chosen the wrong class.’

This was an idea he had for a long time. How many crises and deaths had he experienced every time he walked the path of asceticism due to a class quest? If he carried out group activities with the monks, then his survival rate would often drop exponentially. 

Gnaw gnaw. 

Med grumbled on the inside, but he still acted the same as his group. He raised his upper body and chewed on the rope tied to his ankle. In fact, there was no other way to escape. He didn’t have a relationship where he could ask Grid for help.

“How long is it going to take if you try to escape like this?” 

“......!” Med was startled. It was because Grid came close to him and asked him a question with a cocked head. His expression was solemn and heavy as he observed the rope. 

It had been seven years. The Grid he met in the 1st National Competition was completely different from the current Grid. 

“Isn’t it possible to use skills?” 

Grenier’s barrier only blocked the use of magic. In other words, why wasn’t he using his skills to break the rope? 

The red-faced Med replied in a weak voice, “Monks... don’t have a lot of practical skills...” 

“It feels like borrowing power to enhance strength. Well, drink this first.” Grid passed a potion to Med. He identified that Med’s health was being consumed in real time 

“What is this...?” 

“I think you are going to die.” 

“No, why are you helping me?” 

“Isn’t it natural for a person to help others?” 

“......”

Satisfy was a competitive society. In particular, rankers had a tendency to regard even their allies as their competitors. It might be common for players to help NPCs on a moral level, but it was quite rare to help players unconditionally. 

“...Thank you,” Med briefly thought about it before opening his mouth. He gently received and drank the potion that Grid gave him. 

Grid looked at the rope. 

‘It is very tough and hard.’ 

The rope made of twisted wood was as hard as metal. It seemed to have some type of protection in it. Simply breaking it with force was near impossible. 

“It is crazy to try and break it with your teeth. There seems to be some type of seal that can only be released by the shaman who made the rope...?” Med was trying to explain with an awkward expression when his eyes widened. It was because the rope was cut by Grid with just a single swing of his sword. He managed to adjust himself and stand upright just before his head hit the ground. Then he stared blankly at Grid. 

Meanwhile, Grid released all the other monks and frowned upon rechecking Med’s condition. “Did you use Reverse Origin?” 

“Eh? Uh...” 

Monks boasted tough vitality, but they were surprisingly weak when it came to endurance. It was because most of their skills were costly. A prime example was Reverse Origin, which restored health and healed wounds when used, but eventually led to death. 

[Overgeared God ‘Grid’ has given you 100 ‘Highest Quality Recovery Potions.’] 

Once at the myth rating, the person would be marked as a god, not a player. Med showed an interested expression when he learned this new fact, only to suddenly look baffled. 

“What is this again...?” 

“I was told that you can pray to Debirion in the mountains. Keep taking this when you need to until Debirion responds. It is a special product made at Reidan’s alchemy center, so the effect should be sufficient.” 

“Why are you going so far for me?” 

The effectiveness of Reidan’s highest quality potions were famous. He knew the value well, but right now, that wasn’t the important issue. Putting aside kindness, Med didn’t understand why Grid was showing him this favor. 

Grid shrugged. “You are strong. Your war contribution is close to 500. You don’t have an affiliation, so this means you must’ve been busy running around throughout the entire war. You must’ve helped a lot of people in the process. It is the same for me.” 

“......”

“If you feel uncomfortable, then do something to pay me back later.” 

“...Yes, definitely.” 

Grid smiled. It was good to see Med’s determined expression. He felt that there would be one more person he could turn to for help in the future war against the demons and gods. Grid needed more strong allies. 

‘It is over.’ 

The surroundings were quiet. Looking back, he saw dozens of natives who had fainted with foaming mouths. The woman wearing the ogre’s skull as a headpiece had her bare face revealed and her name was golden. 

Med was astonished. ‘The doppelganger alone overpowered these ignorant people? In just a few minutes?’ 

Randy was Grid’s long-standing power. Players knew that Randy’s identity was a doppelganger. Additionally, monsters had their limits. The dominant prediction was that his performance would become less prominent as time passed. Yet Randy didn’t seem to have any limits. Dozens of natives, who were powerful enough to hold Med captive, were subdued by Randy. 

Of course, Med had been caught because his companions were taken hostage. Even so, Randy was much stronger. Med himself knew it best. 

“Ohh... As expected of the Overgeared God, you are as strong as the rumors were saying.” 

“I gained enlightenment thanks to you.” 

The monks surrounded Randy and spoke to him politely. It was Randy, not Grid, who was mistaken for the main body. It was a normal reaction. Randy did most of the work. 

‘Even so, it is like this.’ 

It was a shame that Med should bear. He sighed before bowing to Grid. “Thank you for your help. This is a small token of my sincerity. Please accept it. I’m not saying I will repay your grace with this. I will repay you properly in the future.” 

[The player ‘Med’ has given you ‘Teachings of the Hunting God.’]

Grid was surprised.

It was a world where bizarre cultures were common. There were many areas in the world that were out of reach. The more closed off the place, the more bizarre it was. 

‘There are really many things that are different from the usual.’

From the very beginning, and just based on the clothing that they wore, Grenier’s natives were bizarre. They were covered with monster skins and decorated with skulls. They were wearing outfits worthy of the temperament of skinning people alive. 

Grid confronted them casually. He realized the vastness of the world through these bizarre barbarians. 

“What...?” 

On the other hand, the natives were shocked, like they had been struck by lightning. It was different from Grid, who had witnessed and experienced many things in the world. They were just frogs at the bottom of a well. For those who believed that Grenier was the whole world, the transcendent presence coming from Grid was a concept that was difficult to accept. 

“What do I look like?” 

“......”

The man who appeared silently and snatched their companions. No one answered Grid’s question. There was only silence. Many natives were dazzled by the wave of energy being emitted by the Overgeared God that spread an orange light. The sun that lit up their mornings and day was actually divine. God had descended. God was angry. Etc, etc. 

It happened just before the thoughts that emerged uncontrollably in the minds of the natives were expressed in words... 

“Hey!” The woman wearing the ogre skull shouted. The veins on her neck bulged as she shouted loudly to cover up her trembling voice. She, the chief of the Removal Tribe, felt fear. 

Only a few seconds had passed since an unidentified intruder broke into the scene. Envy filled the eyes of the tribe people looking at the intruder. It was a similar reaction when facing the guardian of the Mountain King. Something that shouldn’t happen was about to happen... 

“He is a guy who uses very evil black arts! I’m sure he is the king of the yōkai! Block your ears! Shut your mouth! Keep your eyes open! Hold the spear and stab him!” the chief shouted loudly. 

She wasn’t concerned at all about her companions caught and struggling in Grid’s hands. Did what others were being subjected to matter? The natives had lived on the barren mountain and had limited lives. Only their own safety was precious. 

“Wahhhh!” 

The tribe people of the Removal Tribe obeyed the chief. It was because the chief managed the honey they collected from the cliff at the risk of their lives, and the milk of very precious mountain goats. Submitting to the chief was the only way to enrich their lives. 

Just then, Grid split into two people. It wasn’t a big deal. He simply summoned Randy. 

The doppelganger of the mysterious forest—thanks to Pagma’s kindness, he copied Pagma’s appearance and abilities, and maintained it for many years. This meant he was familiar with the power of a legend even before meeting Grid. Since then, he had developed steadily alongside Grid. In addition to copying Grid’s appearance, he had reached the point where he could implement 50% of Grid’s stats. In other words—

“Kuaaaaak!” 

“Hiiik!” 

The enemies Grid usually dealt with were rare and strong opponents. This meant that Grid often used Randy as a meat shield. However, it was not because he underestimated Randy. It was simply inevitable because the enemies were too strong. Yet when facing ordinary (?) enemies like now, Randy alone was enough. 

“B-Black arts...?! That yōkai’s black arts is too much... Cough!” 

The natives were helplessly thrown aside. The two intruders suddenly swung their hands and feet, and the natives couldn’t even respond. They were confused as soon as they saw it. 

“T-That person...?” 

The monks that were hanging precariously upside down with their ankles tied by the rope—they were caught by barbarians they couldn’t communicate with at all and were waiting for death. Now they belatedly came to their senses and looked at the situation. 

The fierce barbarian soldiers, who were like beasts and didn't know reason, were reduced to sheeps that were being chased. It was too much to laugh at them for being unseemly. The intruder was too strong. The moment he took a step, he stretched out like a gale. The movement of his fists and kicks was very beautiful. He occupied all directions with a single movement and neutralized the resistance of the barbarians. They thought he was an unknown strong person who had been honing his fist and kick techniques in the mountains all his life. 

This was until they took a closer look at his face. 

“Gasp! O-Overgeared God...!” 

A monk was different from ordinary religious people. They didn’t have the illusion that the **** they served was noble and almighty. In fact, most of the gods that the monks served came from an ordinary human origin. The **** of hunting, Debirion, was also like this. As a human, Debirion was the best hunter. 

He was able to become rich by catching many wild animals every day, yet he distributed the leather and meat to the villagers for free. He only sold it to wealthy people for a reasonable price. It was thanks to Debirion’s warmth that the villagers could live while being exploited by their lords. They didn’t tremble in the cold thanks to the leather he gave them, and they didn’t starve due to the meat he gave them. Debirion even taught people how to hunt well. All the villagers were good at hunting, so he didn’t regret it, even if he might have to go hungry. This was his cause until the moment when he died alone in the mountains. 

For the monks, gods were such an existence. A worthy and respectable object to learn from, even if there were foolish sides. Therefore, they respected the gods even more. Unlike the followers of the three gods and Yatan, the monks didn’t reject the gods served by others. They weren’t prejudiced against Grid because he had a human origin, deny him because he wasn’t almighty, or disparage him by evaluating his actions. They affirmed he was a **** without any such thing. 

“Haha... I think Debirion led us to the Overgeared God, not the Mountain King,” an old man with a friendly face spoke. Since he was hanging upside down for a long time, blood flowed as he smiled with a puffy face. He was quite broad-minded. It was a monk’s temperament. Monks weren’t shaken by trials. The process of patiently overcoming trials was considered training. Of course, this was limited to NPCs. 

Med’s thinking was extremely normal. He twisted his body and urged his group, “It isn’t the time to laugh. We should try to escape in this gap.” 

“Huhu, it is hard to break the rope because all our belongings have been taken away.” 

“Haha, yes. I should’ve trained my abs and masticating muscles harder.” 

They raised their upper body, bit the rope with the teeth, stopped to recover their breathing, raised their upper body again, and bit the rope.The group kept talking while repeating this. They were relaxed in a manner that didn’t fit the urgent situation. They were laughing while sweating and only Med was impatient. 

‘It seems I have chosen the wrong class.’

This was an idea he had for a long time. How many crises and deaths had he experienced every time he walked the path of asceticism due to a class quest? If he carried out group activities with the monks, then his survival rate would often drop exponentially. 

Gnaw gnaw. 

Med grumbled on the inside, but he still acted the same as his group. He raised his upper body and chewed on the rope tied to his ankle. In fact, there was no other way to escape. He didn’t have a relationship where he could ask Grid for help.

“How long is it going to take if you try to escape like this?” 

“......!” Med was startled. It was because Grid came close to him and asked him a question with a cocked head. His expression was solemn and heavy as he observed the rope. 

It had been seven years. The Grid he met in the 1st National Competition was completely different from the current Grid. 

“Isn’t it possible to use skills?” 

Grenier’s barrier only blocked the use of magic. In other words, why wasn’t he using his skills to break the rope? 

The red-faced Med replied in a weak voice, “Monks... don’t have a lot of practical skills...” 

“It feels like borrowing power to enhance strength. Well, drink this first.” Grid passed a potion to Med. He identified that Med’s health was being consumed in real time 

“What is this...?” 

“I think you are going to die.” 

“No, why are you helping me?” 

“Isn’t it natural for a person to help others?” 

“......”

Satisfy was a competitive society. In particular, rankers had a tendency to regard even their allies as their competitors. It might be common for players to help NPCs on a moral level, but it was quite rare to help players unconditionally. 

“...Thank you,” Med briefly thought about it before opening his mouth. He gently received and drank the potion that Grid gave him. 

Grid looked at the rope. 

‘It is very tough and hard.’ 

The rope made of twisted wood was as hard as metal. It seemed to have some type of protection in it. Simply breaking it with force was near impossible. 

“It is crazy to try and break it with your teeth. There seems to be some type of seal that can only be released by the shaman who made the rope...?” Med was trying to explain with an awkward expression when his eyes widened. It was because the rope was cut by Grid with just a single swing of his sword. He managed to adjust himself and stand upright just before his head hit the ground. Then he stared blankly at Grid. 

Meanwhile, Grid released all the other monks and frowned upon rechecking Med’s condition. “Did you use Reverse Origin?” 

“Eh? Uh...” 

Monks boasted tough vitality, but they were surprisingly weak when it came to endurance. It was because most of their skills were costly. A prime example was Reverse Origin, which restored health and healed wounds when used, but eventually led to death. 

[Overgeared God ‘Grid’ has given you 100 ‘Highest Quality Recovery Potions.’] 

Once at the myth rating, the person would be marked as a god, not a player. Med showed an interested expression when he learned this new fact, only to suddenly look baffled. 

“What is this again...?” 

“I was told that you can pray to Debirion in the mountains. Keep taking this when you need to until Debirion responds. It is a special product made at Reidan’s alchemy center, so the effect should be sufficient.” 

“Why are you going so far for me?” 

The effectiveness of Reidan’s highest quality potions were famous. He knew the value well, but right now, that wasn’t the important issue. Putting aside kindness, Med didn’t understand why Grid was showing him this favor. 

Grid shrugged. “You are strong. Your war contribution is close to 500. You don’t have an affiliation, so this means you must’ve been busy running around throughout the entire war. You must’ve helped a lot of people in the process. It is the same for me.” 

“......”

“If you feel uncomfortable, then do something to pay me back later.” 

“...Yes, definitely.” 

Grid smiled. It was good to see Med’s determined expression. He felt that there would be one more person he could turn to for help in the future war against the demons and gods. Grid needed more strong allies. 

‘It is over.’ 

The surroundings were quiet. Looking back, he saw dozens of natives who had fainted with foaming mouths. The woman wearing the ogre’s skull as a headpiece had her bare face revealed and her name was golden. 

Med was astonished. ‘The doppelganger alone overpowered these ignorant people? In just a few minutes?’ 

Randy was Grid’s long-standing power. Players knew that Randy’s identity was a doppelganger. Additionally, monsters had their limits. The dominant prediction was that his performance would become less prominent as time passed. Yet Randy didn’t seem to have any limits. Dozens of natives, who were powerful enough to hold Med captive, were subdued by Randy. 

Of course, Med had been caught because his companions were taken hostage. Even so, Randy was much stronger. Med himself knew it best. 

“Ohh... As expected of the Overgeared God, you are as strong as the rumors were saying.” 

“I gained enlightenment thanks to you.” 

The monks surrounded Randy and spoke to him politely. It was Randy, not Grid, who was mistaken for the main body. It was a normal reaction. Randy did most of the work. 

‘Even so, it is like this.’ 

It was a shame that Med should bear. He sighed before bowing to Grid. “Thank you for your help. This is a small token of my sincerity. Please accept it. I’m not saying I will repay your grace with this. I will repay you properly in the future.” 

[The player ‘Med’ has given you ‘Teachings of the Hunting God.’]

Grid was surprised.