The Gods’ Gacha Game: Return of the God-King

Chapter 39: Information for the Next Two Scenarios

As time passed, I noticed that our spar had attracted quite a bit of attention from the nearby divine warriors. A small crowd had gathered around the ring, murmuring among themselves as they watched us exchange blows. Some looked impressed, others merely curious.

When I felt like it was about time we ended it, someone approached us from the crowd.

“Good match, you two.”

I turned toward the voice and found a tall man in his late thirties standing just outside the ring. He wore an old-fashioned training uniform, but the way he carried himself gave off a clear aura of experience—calm and composed. His black hair was tied neatly behind his head, and sharp green eyes observed us with a gaze of approval.

It didn’t take me long to figure out who he was. He must be the instructor of this training center…

I hadn’t expected him to show up while we were still sparring, but considering the small crowd we had drawn in, it wasn’t all that surprising.

Michelle, on the other hand, looked slightly confused, her eyes flicking between him and me. She clearly hadn’t realized who he was. Well, I hadn’t mentioned that this training ground might have an instructor in the first place. So, her confusion was understandable.

The instructor smiled faintly at us as he took a few steps closer. “Not bad. Lad, you’re strong. And you, girl,” he said, turning to Michelle, “you adapted well under pressure and improved drastically in a short time. How about it, care for me to teach you two?”

Michelle blinked, stunned by the unexpected praise. However, she hesitated at the sudden offer. “Er… thanks. But who are you?”

“Oof, sorry for not introducing myself first.” He gave a chuckle and scratched the back of his neck. “Name’s Igor. I’m the instructor assigned to both District D and E. I’m open to teaching anyone how to fight—free of charge.” He thumped his chest with a hearty, confident grin.

Michelle tilted her head, clearly still processing it.

“Michelle,” I said, stepping in to help her decide, “the instructor’s far more skilled than I in all kinds of weapons. If you want to improve fast, this is a great opportunity. You could even ask him to teach you how to use throwing knives or other tools you haven’t tried yet. This way, you can get stronger faster.”

Her eyes lit up a little at that. “Getting stronger faster? Learning to use throwing knives… That does sound interesting.”

“Glad to hear you’re interested,” Igor said, smiling broadly. “You’ve got potential. You too, lad. I saw how you moved and tried to guide her during the spar—you’ve got a fighter’s instinct. You must be the one who destroyed all the training dummies yesterday. Haha, that’s incredible for a new Bet-rank divine warrior! How about joining the training as well?”

I shook my head. “Thanks for the offer, but as for me, I’ll train on my own. I have a few things I need to focus on specifically.”

“Fair enough.” Igor didn’t press the matter. He clapped his hands together with energy. “Well then, let’s get started, missy. Follow me to the archery area. I’ve got a few things to show you.”

Michelle glanced at me for a moment—almost as if to confirm she should go—before I nodded at her.

“Go on. I’ll be around if you need me.”

“All right. Catch you later, Maxim,” she said with a determined smile.

With that, she followed Igor toward the archery range. The crowd that had gathered slowly dispersed now that the sparring ring had cleared. I turned away and made my way toward one of the open training areas nearby—an empty patch of packed earth beside the dummies. I didn’t want to waste the elixir’s effect, and I had no intention of taking it easy just because I had two reliable comrades. If anything, I had to push myself even harder. Every step of progress counted in these ten short days.

Dropping down, I started with my usual training regimen and pushed my body to its limit. I began with push-ups—three hundred reps, perfect form, no rest. Then sit-ups, followed by squats, and then a dozen laps around the field with added weights strapped to my ankles. Even though my muscles screamed for me to rest, I endured it all. Pain meant growth, and growth meant survival.

I wasn’t just training for the sake of a number. I had ten days to close the gap between Graham and me. Ten days to gain enough strength, speed, and control to tip the scales of that duel.

Your Stamina has increased by 1.

Your Strength has increased by 1.

The elixir worked wonderfully. Although I didn’t feel a sudden burst of strength, I could tell my body was adjusting more efficiently.

After running for nearly an hour, I switched to core drills—planks, jump squats, and controlled breathwork. Sweat clung to my clothes, my limbs felt like lead, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears, but my focus never wavered.

Across the field, I caught a glimpse of Michelle drawing back her bow in a new stance Igor had shown her. She looked focused, serious, hitting bullseyes each time.

Meanwhile, Boris was nowhere to be seen. I scanned the area but couldn’t spot him among the others training. Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t here. Knowing him, he was probably off somewhere picking fights with tougher opponents or doing his own version of “training.”

I kept repeating the training over and over again until my body gave out completely. I dropped to the ground, unable to move a single muscle.

Your Stamina has increased by 1.

Your Stamina has increased by 1.

“Huff, huff, puff… Huff. Ha…” My body was drenched in sweat, my chest rising and falling rapidly. But despite the fatigue, the results were more than worth it. I could feel my sore body getting stronger and tougher.

Nevertheless, I was feeling dehydrated, with my mouth dry and my throat hurting. Through great effort, I took out a waterskin from my inventory and poured the contents all over my face before drinking the remaining. Oh yeah, that’s the taste!

I didn’t know when it happened, but Michelle must have finished her training. She was now standing a short distance away, her expression full of concern.

“Are you okay, Maxim?” she asked, walking closer with hesitant steps.

“I’m… fine,” I uttered between bated breaths, flashing her a tired smile. My limbs felt like jelly, but I was okay.

Before she could say anything else, another voice called out from the side.

“Ho, you two are here. Perfect timing,” Boris’s voice rang out as he approached, wiping sweat from his own brow.

He looked far less exhausted than either of us, but there was a noticeable glow on his skin—he had clearly pushed himself as well.

“What’s up…?” I inquired, still lying flat on the training ground with sweat and water dripping down my face.

“I just had a match with a tough person and won,” Boris replied, cracking his neck with a satisfied grunt. “As a reward for winning, he told me some information about the fourth and fifth scenarios.”

That got my attention. I slowly pushed myself up onto one elbow. “Oh? Do tell.”

Even though I knew that the first ten scenarios were considered the tutorial phase, information was still valuable, especially if we wanted to prepare thoroughly and take advantage of every opportunity.

“For the fourth scenario,” Boris began, “it actually takes place in the same forest as the third. But this time, the objective is to eliminate several monster camps scattered across the area.”

“So, a seek-and-destroy operation,” I mused.

Boris nodded. “Yeah. But the monsters will be stronger and more organized than what we faced in the previous scenario.”

I glanced at Michelle, who was listening attentively while sipping from her waterskin. “And what about the fifth?”

“That one’s a bit more complicated,” Boris continued. “The goal is to hunt specific creatures—majestic stags with glowing antlers. You have to collect a number of their heads and place them on altars scattered across the map. Once enough of them are placed, a powerful boss will be summoned at the central altar as soon as you go there. But…”

“Let me guess,” I muttered. “The more heads you collect and the more altars you activate, the stronger the summoned boss becomes. And that’s the extra condition, isn’t it?”

“Right on the mark,” he confirmed. “But according to the guy I fought, the boss is no pushover. It’s a spirit beast in the form of a giant stag that can wield magic.”

Great. That meant preparation would be even more important.

“A magical stag boss…” Michelle muttered under her breath in deep thought.

“Sounds interesting,” I replied. “But we’d better upgrade our gear before taking on another scenario.” I pushed myself back to my feet, feeling a little less exhausted now. “We can’t afford to be under-equipped this time.”

Thankfully, my recovery was much better than when I just got into Fantasia, thanks in part to my higher Stamina stat.

“Mm-hmm,” Michelle agreed with a nod.

“Let’s go then,” Boris added.

The three of us left the training area. It was late afternoon now, and if we hurried, we could make it to the smithy before it closed. With luck, we might even be able to place an order for custom weapons or get some of our current gear repaired today.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a dwarfsmith in District E. Otherwise, they would’ve been ideal—dwarfsmiths were known to be the best in the field when it came to equipment crafting and upgrading. When it came to uncommon-grade or higher-grade weapons and armor, their craftsmanship was practically unrivaled.

Still, even a competent human smith could make a big difference with the right materials and a bit of soul coins. And the third scenario just so happened to provide us with that.

As such, we arrived at a smithy with a solid reputation, one that had been recommended by several divine warriors we spoke to around the district. It was located near the edge of District E, and the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal rang out even before we stepped through the entrance.

As we entered, the heat struck us immediately. Flames roared in a large forge at the back, and the scent of molten metal mixed with sweat and oil filled the air. The blacksmith stood near the anvil, hammer in hand, and turned to look at us.

He was a middle-aged man with thick arms and a stocky build, but what stood out even more were his fiery red unkempt hair and beard, with flecks of soot clinging to the strands. His eyes, a matching red-orange hue, seemed to flicker like embers, giving him a fierce, almost volatile presence. The thick mustache twitched slightly as he sized us up.

“What do you lot want?” he asked in a gruff voice, wiping his hands on a scorched leather apron.