Lycan made one thing clear—if you wanted to eat, you had to work. There was never a shortage of labor in the settlement.

Before assigning any tasks, Lycan asked sternly, “Are you infected?”

Dandao Dantart and the others were puzzled. Many of the players didn’t understand what the term “infected” even meant. What did that have to do with anything?

However, a few players who had done their research stepped forward confidently, declaring that they were not infected and offering to strip down for inspection. Before the village chief could even respond, they had already taken off everything except their underwear. Lycan sent a few men to inspect them. After checking, they confirmed there were no Originium particles present—none of them were infected.

“What’s this all about?” some players whispered among themselves.

Those who had studied the game’s lore shook their heads and gestured for silence, indicating that now wasn’t the time to explain.

Lycan continued, “You can herd livestock in the pastures or gather herbs. Our stone tools have been wearing out lately—they need replacement. If you’re capable, try your hand at hunting in the nearby forest. You can trade resources or sell game for money. Those with strength can take on bounties from the town.” He paused to cough, and someone quickly came to support him. “If you want to leave, the nearest town is a four-day journey to the south. If you’re looking to learn a skill, become an apprentice at the tailor’s or the craftsman’s shop.”

From Lycan’s explanation, the players gathered that this was a humble settlement, even smaller than a village, with a permanent population of about 300. Only a handful of life-related secondary professions could be learned here, and the sole combat-related option available was [Novice Hunter].

Anyone with MMORPG experience would know that a class like this was far from rare. At best, it would provide attribute bonuses while hunting. In PVP, anyone showing off a hunter sub-class would just become a laughingstock.

As for a map? The players were quick to notice that the interface lacked any kind of built-in map. Upon asking Lycan, they learned that maps needed to be hand-drawn by someone with the scribe sub-profession. Fortunately, one such scribe lived in the village and could lend out maps for temporary use—but owning a copy required a purchase.

Those who had been daydreaming about exploring the whole region quickly gave up their fantasy after learning that even by vehicle, reaching the nearest town would take four full days.

Yes, this was truly a beginner’s village.

Before long, a small group of four players discussed among themselves and decided to form a party. They headed off toward the blacksmith’s shop.

As the first team to take initiative, they naturally drew the attention of everyone else.

Dandao Dantart recognized one of the usernames: Touxinliang, the leader of the medium-sized gaming guild War Song. They had clashed briefly in a previous game. However, Dandao Dantart was using a brand-new ID this time in Ark, so Touxinliang wouldn’t recognize him.

Each player started with an initial capital of 30 LMD. Dandao Dantart calculated that a simple lunch in the village—a loaf of bread and a bowl of water—cost 6 LMD, meaning a new player had just enough funds to survive for two days without work.

Pooling their resources together, the four players collected a total of 120 LMD and purchased a woodcutting axe. From the expression on Touxinliang’s face, it was clear he was quite satisfied with the weapon’s craftsmanship.

Following them closely, the other players watched as the group headed toward the bounty board. Touxinliang studied the available tasks, eyes scanning left and right, before settling on the simplest quest: Originium Slugs extermination. With a wave of his hand, he accepted the mission, and the group quickly headed off toward the forest.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, they returned looking dejected. Touxinliang’s mood had clearly soured. He had expected the Originium Slugs to be like the usual starter monster—comparable to slimes in most MMORPGs. True, the way the axe sank into the Slugs’s soft, sticky body did resemble attacking a slime. But unlike the typical weakling enemy, this Slugs didn’t even lose a sliver of health. It just continued crawling around as if nothing had happened.

The defense of this slime-like enemy was absurd. The team failed the mission, and their morale took a hit.

“Say no more,” someone muttered. “That Originium Slugs only took one drop of my HP.”

“Damn it, the durability on our axe dropped a lot.”

“I got one-shot by flying rocks! Just finished my respawn countdown.”

The death penalties were brutal: the first death meant a 5-minute respawn wait, the second 10 minutes, the third 20, the fourth 40… The exponentially increasing penalties prompted many players to log off after dying, taking the opportunity to grab something to eat in real life.

While everyone was chatting and trading information, Dandao Dantart approached one of the players who had earlier reacted to the word “infected.”

“Hey man, what’s the infected thing about? Is it a class or something?”

“It’s not a profession,” the player replied. “On Terra, there’s a raw material called Originium. Anyone who comes into contact with it can develop a disease called Oripathy. It’s kinda like nuclear contamination. For NPCs, there’s no cure. Once infected, they’re considered Infected—the lowest of the low.”

“Damn, that bad?”

“Wait a minute… can we get Oripathy too?” another player asked, alarmed.

The man nodded. “According to the lore, yes. But as long as you take proper precautions and don’t get mortally wounded during combat, you’re safe. If you’re killed instantly, your body disappears, so there’s no infection risk.”

He added, “According to the official website, infected players get a buff—they can use magic skills without a staff.”

“For real? That’s insane!”

Hearing this, Dandao Dantart asked, “What about the debuff?”

“HP will slowly decrease during battle.”

That made sense. The condition came with both advantages and drawbacks—a classic double-edged sword.

Dandao Dantart mulled it over more deeply. Based on the earlier attitude of the NPCs, he inferred something important. The infected, as described by other players, were clearly unwelcome. If a player contracted Oripathy, they likely wouldn’t be allowed into the main city—perhaps not even back into the settlement.

Others were thinking along similar lines. As seasoned MMORPG players, they all approached their characters with long-term planning in mind. A debuff that caused health to gradually drain during combat was too great a risk. Many players backed off from the idea entirely. Those who had chosen the Lupo race had done so to enjoy cold weapons and explore a mafia-inspired narrative. None of them had set out to become wizards.

After learning all this, the players quickly abandoned the idea of tackling bounty quests—at least for now. Without proper equipment, it was the equivalent of charging in naked, and on top of that, they risked infection. Only an idiot would take that gamble. So they went their separate ways, chatting up NPCs for intel and eagerly diving into beginner-friendly quests.

Lycan stroked his beard with satisfaction. These wanderers and outsiders were surprisingly diligent. At the very least, none of them were sitting around waiting for death. They were all young and able-bodied too. If they could marry into the town and settle down, that would do wonders for expanding the community.

“Hey! I picked up the Farmer secondary job. I even leveled up—my HP increased quite a bit!”

“The Novice Hunter perk for hunting is decent, but the XP requirement’s steep. I think I’ll work at the blacksmith shop for now.”

“My talent is Cold Blooded—I get a Dexterity bonus when sneaking. Think I’m cut out to be a Scatterer?”

“Man, the payout for missions is so low—only 40 LMD.”

“Ouch! Don’t cut off your own tail—you’ll lose HP!”

The game gave each player a modest starting amount—just 30 LMD—and nothing but the clothes on their backs. While there was a beginner’s guide, the game didn’t coddle players to the point of boredom. Instead, it struck a careful balance, easing them in with steady, meaningful progress. This pacing slowly drew players in. The variety of quests and professions helped keep the gameplay from becoming repetitive. Sure, the labor could be exhausting—some players even grumbled under their breath—but watching their LMD and XP grow always brought back a smile. It was the kind of experience that was both painful and rewarding.

The high level of freedom made players genuinely excited. Many had already mapped out their futures: save up some LMD, raise their levels and attributes to a decent standard, then hop on a wagon to explore a new map.

Dandao Dantart chose the secondary profession of Novice Hunter. He spent the entire afternoon working and used his earnings to purchase a spear that looked sturdy and reliable. Fortunately, he had a higher Strength stat at the start, allowing him to equip the weapon without issue. He then used all his remaining, meager experience points to level up his Novice Hunter role to Lv.4.

In the previous game, he had been a member of Touxinliang’s Guild and once dreamed of going pro. However, the leadership at War Song Guild wasn’t interested in nurturing professional players, which led to friction. Eventually, Dandao Dantart left, becoming free agents. In the final season before the last game update, he finally qualified for the professional league. He passed the initial selection round and made it into the Top 48 before being eliminated.

For someone unaffiliated with any guild, making it that far was already quite impressive.

At the time, he had done it out of spite. Now, thinking back, it felt a little amusing.

He’d abandoned his old username, stepped into a new game, and was ready to begin a fresh journey. If possible, he hoped this new ID would be the one to carry him into Ark’s professional league.

Dandao Dantart headed to the map vendor to take a look. The map displayed a vast region filled with green mountains, clear rivers, dense forests, and expansive deserts. Yellow Sand Village occupied just a tiny corner of it. Based on what he saw, there were more than a dozen villages similar in size to Yellow Sand. The closest was a place called Moshan Town, which, according to the village chief, would take four days to reach by bus. On the map, it sat next to an area labeled “Moshan”—a rather straightforward naming convention.

For the record, the transport bus didn’t run daily. It only arrived at Yellow Sand Village once a week to deliver supplies.

The map cost 15,000 LMD. After giving it some thought, Dandao Dantart estimated that it would take him three full days to earn that amount—accounting for the food and supplies he’d need for the journey.

There were three categories of players eligible for the closed beta.

The first group were the lucky ones who gained access through a lottery. The second group were players from game guilds and clubs who secured a spot through connections—people like members of the War Song Guild. The third were professional players, whose beta qualifications were submitted and approved through formal requests by their teams.

Dandao Dantart belonged to the first category. He was no longer part of any guild, nor was he a formally registered pro. Pure luck had granted him this opportunity to participate in the beta.

What did beta testers do in Sword Art Online? They explored the map and uncovered new areas.

In Ark, a game with strict leveling limits but an incredibly high degree of freedom, as long as you had enough supplies and a means of self-defense, you could go wherever you pleased, right?

Staying in the Novice Village to complete mundane tasks felt like a waste of his beta access. After all, he only had a one-month head start over public beta players. Once they joined, any level advantage would quickly disappear.

In the vast land of Terra, opportunities and missions were truly claimed on a first-come, first-served basis. With so many locations and powerful nations to explore, getting there early meant access to exclusive resources and equipment.

Most importantly, he had indirectly learned that Moshan Town offered a secondary job class—Novice Swordsman—which was exactly what he needed at this point.

Before long, the number of players gathering around the map vendor exceeded five. Glancing sideways, Dandao Dantart immediately recognized that these were players from a game guild. Clearly, they’d come to the same realization.

With a heavy sigh, frustration bubbled up inside him. He turned and stormed off, heading straight to take on the filthiest, most exhausting job available: cleaning the pack animal sheds. No matter how hard or unpleasant the work was, he couldn’t ignore the reward—100 LMD was too tempting to pass up.

Three days later, he successfully purchased the map and boarded the transport bus to Moshan Town that very same day.

In addition to the four members from the War Song Guild, there were also two expert players from a major club riding along. No one exchanged information during the ride. When they logged off, they simply let their avatars slump onto the seats, lying motionless as if asleep.

The atmosphere on the bus was dull and uneventful. Dandao Dantart passed the time chatting with a few NPCs. He managed to trigger several quests, but they all required him to travel to far corners of the map to complete. While the rewards were more than double those in the village, the internal test period was limited—he wasn’t willing to waste time on side errands.

The other club players already had basic protective gear. It was clear they hadn’t been idle over the past few days. After purchasing their maps, they’d gone hunting and were now equipped with new armor that boosted trace attributes—though it was more accurate to call them knee pads and wrist guards, since Yellow Sand Village didn’t sell the full medieval armor one might imagine.

Fortunately, when the boredom of the long ride crept in, he could browse the forum to pass the time.

Players who didn’t have access to the internal test were begging for pictures and guides. But most beta testers were busy exploring and didn’t have the time to post. Still, from the occasional forum update, he learned that the novice villages across other player waves were more or less the same as Yellow Sand Village. The consistency didn’t feel unfair—instead, players found camaraderie in the shared struggle, completing tasks while browsing the forum in their spare time.

After finally staggering off the bus, his body sore from lying flat for four consecutive days, all he could think of was logging off and getting something to eat. Outside the window, the vast expanse of wind, sand, and scenery greeted him. He treated himself like a tourist, activated the player’s camera mode, and snapped a series of photos.

The players split into three groups, each heading off in different directions. Their arrival was like a raindrop falling into the sea—quiet, unnoticed, and quickly absorbed.

Dandao Dantart stared at the medieval-style town before him. The difference between this and the village was striking.

His eyes gleamed like a hungry wolf’s, scanning the area for a place where he could immediately start earning LMDs. His gaze swept from the food store to the blacksmith shop, then over to a flower shop—until a glint of golden light caught his attention.

He saw a Sankta—a figure with a golden halo above his head and radiant golden wings at his back. He had short gray hair, and his eyes were the same brilliant gold as his halo. Dressed in a black coat and holding a bouquet of flowers, the man gave off an air more akin to a gentle priest than a passing traveler.

But what stood out most was his aura. A warm, approachable smile lit his face, and the female NPC speaking with him responded with a silly, dreamy smile… The scene struck Dandao Dantart deeply. This game is way too realistic.

Dandao Dantart had to admit—this was the most handsome NPC he had ever seen. If I were a woman… maybe… cough, cough. And according to the forums, Sankta NPCs were extremely rare.

Narrowing his eyes, he threw a retcon at the handsome Sankta youth.

[Felix Shawn Lanshem Lv?] (yellow name)

[Introduction: ?]

[Danger Level: Warning! You have no hope of survival] (Red)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep