"Jack, you finally showed up," came a rough voice—deep and solid like gravel.
The speaker was a broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his cheek and slick, black hair pulled back in a loose tie.
His appearance was always a mess, but his skills? Unmatched. And more than that, he was direct—sometimes painfully so.
With a toothy grin, Asmon stood up and clapped Alex on the back, nearly knocking the air out of him. "Glad to see you still breathing. I told you not to spend too much time on the frontlines."
He let out a heavy sigh and motioned toward the chair across from him. "Sit. We've got another mission."
Alex blinked. "Already?"
Normally, a soldier got at least a week to recover—especially after the kind of battle he just returned from. Even if he counted his delayed return, it hadn't been that long.
This could only mean something out of norm has happened.
"…Did we lose? Badly? How many people did we lose?"
Seeing the grim look on Alex's face, Asmon let out a hearty laugh. "It's not what you think. We've still got plenty of soldiers. No, the reason this came down fast is because our kingdom just got blessed."
Alex's brow furrowed. "With what?"
"A legendary class," Asmon said, lowering his voice.
Alex's eyes widened. That changed everything. Legendary classes weren't just powerful—they could be game-breaking. Depending on the class, one person could shift an entire war. "What kind of class?"
Asmon's smile widened. "I'm only telling you this because it's you. It's a support-type. Sorry—I can't say more."
"A support? For real?" Alex leaned in, surprised. "That's huge."
"Exactly. So tomorrow, we're moving out. Direct strike. We hit their kingdom before they have time to react."
Alex gave a quiet nod. From a strategic standpoint, it made sense. Strike while the enemy was unprepared, make the most of their advantage. But just because it was logical didn't mean he wanted to go.
Jack's mother was still unconscious. If something happened while he was away—
"General… I'm sorry. I can't go. My mother's condition hasn't improved. I need to be there when she wakes up. You know my situation."
Asmon looked at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he shook his head. "It's a Priority One mission, Jack. You know what that means."
Alex tensed. Right—based on Jack's memories, refusing a Priority One deployment came with severe punishment.
Prison time, the usual plot like in most RPGs he'd played. But this wasn't a game. And this was the worst timing possible.
"General… there's got to be a way out of this. You're not out of favors. I know you have pull."
Asmon chuckled. "I love the confidence. You're not wrong—I could get you out of it." He leaned forward, eyes glinting.
"But why would I? You keep talking about wanting more contribution points. Well, here's your golden ticket. Don't waste it."
"You go on this mission, Jack, and you might even rank up—maybe get a shot at a rare or epic advancement class. Hell, maybe even a legendary."
If this were a game, Alex would've jumped at the opportunity without hesitation. But it wasn't. These were real people. Real stakes. Real consequences.
"I understand, General," Alex said quietly. "And thank you for the opportunity. But without seeing my mother awake, I won't be able to focus on the battlefield."
Asmon tapped his finger on the desk, thinking. After a moment, he exhaled. "Then let's pray she wakes up by tomorrow. Because if not… you're still going. Priority One orders don't wait for personal matters."
Alex's jaw tightened.
"Relax," Asmon added, waving a hand. "I'll send a bishop to look after her."
"A bishop? But the cost—"
"I'll cover it," Asmon said flatly, cutting him off. Then a sly grin spread across his face. "But it's not charity. We'll just take it out of your next pay—with interest."
Alex sighed, already expecting it. From Jack's memories, this wasn't the first time Asmon had made that kind of offer.
He always said the interest would bleed you dry, but in the end, he never took more than a sliver. It was just his way of keeping him grounded.
"Alright, General. If that's what it takes."
"Good. Then don't waste time. Fix your gear, make sure your durability's maxed. And visit the temple.
You haven't gone in a while. Maybe you've racked up enough to receive a blessing."
Asmon's gaze sharpened. "You're lucky enough to have extra lives. Don't let that go to waste."
Alex flinched slightly. "About that…"
"Don't worry. I won't ask how you got them," Asmon said, leaning back. "Everyone has their secrets. But answer me this—how many do you have left?"
Alex hesitated. The truth? He could die a thousand times and come back, thanks to the exploit he found. But there was no way he could say that out loud.
"Two more," he said after a beat.
Asmon's eyes narrowed with a glint of surprise. He knew the default for all soldiers—three lives. He always kept track.
Alex had already used all three. But now he had two left.
Which meant… five in total?
"Damn," Asmon muttered. "You make me jealous. Look, if you really feel like you owe me, maybe share one of those lives, huh?"
Alex chuckled, relaxing a bit. He knew Asmon was joking. There was no system that allowed life transfers—if there were, the kingdom would've weaponized it already.
Weak classes would be sacrificed en masse to power up elites. It would break the game's balance—and the very rules the world was built on.
"If I knew that dungeon had rewards ," Alex said with a grin, "I would've brought you with me, General."
Asmon laughed, shaking his head. "Careful, kid. Keep talking like that and I'll start getting greedy."
He leaned forward, serious again. "Now go. Rest up. Tomorrow's going to be a war worth remembering."
Alex than excuse himself, he still have many things to do. Asmon look at his disappearing figure, deep in thought, 'I hope the prince is busy with the new class, otherwise Jack will have a lot of trouble.'