“Luck…”
So that was it.
In that instant, all the scattered pieces finally snapped into place.
His overflowing 136 Intelligence had been converted by the system into an ability that allowed him to read the world through a galgame interface. It was a complicated system, one that required tedious conversations, gifts, and even extreme actions—such as confessions—to slowly pry open the rules of the world.
Kiro, on the other hand, this “Wretch” who had started with a 9-point Intelligence debuff, had been compensated in a completely different way.
A crude way.
A direct way.
An utterly unreasonable way.
Luck.
A power that could not be measured by logic, could not be calculated with formulas, yet could directly interfere with probability itself.
She had dodged the dragon’s breath not because her reflexes were fast, but because a stone underfoot had “just happened” to make her trip. The dragon had sunk into the mud not because the terrain had limited its movements, but because its supporting foot had “just happened” to slip. The blind spot in its attacks had not existed because her positioning was precise, but because the dragon “just happened” to be unable to twist its neck to that angle.
Loran had always assumed he was the only player.
Kiro was just an NPC who had been dragged into the game, someone who needed him to guide and protect her.
Now he understood.
They were both players.
One of them was playing a strategy game built on precise calculation.
The other was playing… a pure dice game.
Except every die she rolled was loaded.
A very bad feeling began crawling up his spine.
How would her next stroke of “luck” manifest? Would it lead her to some legendary weapon? Or would she stumble off a cliff, only to “just happen” to land in a hidden cave containing an Ancient Dragon Smithing Stone?
Uncontrollable.
That was what made it terrifying.
A walking chaos factor with the power to overturn the probability of the world itself. Someone who acted entirely on impulse, with no logic behind her decisions whatsoever.
Putting that kind of power in her hands was like handing a nuclear launch button to a three-year-old. She might press it simply because the button was red and looked fun.
No.
He could not leave her like this.
He had to guide her. He had to make her understand the nature of that power. He had to teach her how to control it, instead of letting it control her unconsciously.
“Kiro,” Loran said, taking a deep breath. His tone had never been this serious before. “Listen. This Luck stat might be much more important than you think. The reason you were able to beat that dragon just now was very likely connected to that attribute. We need to figure out exactly how it works.”
Kiro merely looked up and rolled her eyes at him.
“Figure it out? Why would I bother?” She curled her lip, clearly impatient. “What’s the point of leveling that thing? If I put points into Luck, am I gonna find Runes every time I walk outside? Or is the enemy just gonna trip and die the next time I get into a fight?”
As she spoke, she poured the massive amount of Runes she had just obtained straight into Faith.
Golden light enveloped her once again. Her Faith stat shot up like it had been strapped to a rocket.
“I’m going to overcome challenges with my own skill!”
She stood up from beside the Site of Grace and clenched her fist. Her face was shining with baseless confidence and heroic pride, completely immersed in the glory of having solo-killed a dragon.
“I scraped that dragon to death one hit at a time! That was proof of my strength! My technique and perseverance defeated it! It had absolutely nothing to do with some vague, invisible thing like ‘luck’!”
She paused, then raised her chin even higher.
“I’m leveling Faith! I’m playing a Faith build! Flames! Lightning! That’s the kind of stuff an Elden Lord should be using! You get it? This is faith! Faith!”
Loran stared at her for a long while, unable to say anything.
“Fine. You’re the Elden Lord. What you say goes.”
He took a step back and made an inviting gesture.
“Then… milady, may we proceed to the Weeping Peninsula now?”
The teasing form of address clearly pleased Kiro.
She snorted, lifted her chin, walked over to Loran, and snatched the spectral steed whistle from his hand.
“At least you know your place.”
She blew the whistle and climbed onto the horse with practiced ease.
Torrent still seemed somewhat resistant to his new rider. He pawed uneasily at the ground, but after Loran soothed him, he eventually obeyed and carried her at a light trot down the road toward the south.
Before long, Kiro grew bored of the monotonous journey.
She leaned crookedly in the saddle, tugging at Torrent’s mane one moment, then humming some off-key tune the next.
When they passed a stretch of broken ruins, Kiro suddenly pulled on the reins.
“Stop.”
Torrent stopped at once.
Loran also halted and looked toward the ruins.
Waypoint Ruins.
“What is it?” Loran asked.
“Let’s go down and take a look.”
Kiro jumped off the horse, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“Why go down there? Aside from a few poison-spitting flowers and a sorcerer, there’s nothing worth exploring here.”
Loran frowned. He could not understand why Kiro would suddenly be interested in this place. According to the original plan, they should have gone around it and headed for the peninsula as quickly as possible.
Kiro did not answer him. She simply walked straight toward a staircase leading underground within the ruins.
At the entrance to the stairs sat a Miranda Flower, its body rising and falling as though it were breathing.
“Hey.”
Kiro looked back at Loran and pointed at it with an imperious air.
“That thing. Handle it.”
Loran sighed and drew the short sword at his waist.
Using magic against this kind of enemy would be a complete waste of FP.
Kiro watched in satisfaction, then turned and walked straight into the dark basement without looking back.
Loran had no choice but to follow.
“There’s a big idiot with a pumpkin helmet down there. We’re gonna kill him,” Kiro announced without turning around.
“And after we kill him, there’s a sorcery teacher locked up inside. We’re going to save her.”
“Sellen?”
Loran frowned.
This was an unexpected suggestion.
Sorceress Sellen’s questline did indeed run through the game, but…
“Yeah, her.”
Kiro nodded, a nostalgic look appearing on her face.
“When I played before, I actually liked her a lot. She was so obsessed with sorcery. I thought that was pretty cool.”
Loran looked at her, momentarily unsure what expression he was supposed to make.
“I only left her out because of your current Intelligence stat,” he said, doing his best not to sound like he was mocking her. “You can’t even use the most basic Glintstone Pebble right now, so I didn’t plan on saving her. She’s no use to you.”
Those words seemed to hit Kiro right where it hurt.
“Who says she’s no use?!”
She immediately shot back, her voice rising several degrees.
“I’m saving her because I like her! Is that not allowed? If you only do things because they’re useful, then what’s even the point? God, you’re so damn utilitarian!”
[Affection: -90 → -95]
[Status: Offended / Disdainful / Insistent]
Loran fell silent.
He realized that he had once again tried to judge someone who ignored common sense completely by using rational logic.
For Kiro, the words “because I like her” were the highest principle of action.
An absolute truth powerful enough to override any cost-benefit analysis.
“Fine. We’ll save her.”
Loran gave up the argument and compromised.