Little Pink Starfish

Even though Pei Sen had confirmed it, he couldn’t really ask Bix Magic Cube for copyright fees—after all, in essence, Bix Magic Cube was copying himself, not the other way around.

“But this game system really is quite clever.” Its learning ability was truly impressive.

As Pei Sen mused over this, he reread the announcement. Despite the warning about the high difficulty of the Mage class, the comments below were flooded with enthusiastic “cloud players” insisting they wanted to play a Mage. Pei Sen could only sigh at how naive they were.

In the original timeline, players had explored Bix Magic Cube far more deeply than they had now, and combat practice was much more frequent. By then, it had already been six months since launch, and most players had adapted to the combat system of this holographic game. There were a lot more guides available. Even cloud players were no longer clueless.

Yet even then, when the Mage class was first released, it was universally condemned by players. Many called it a “newbie killer.” Countless players were driven out of the game by the Mage class. Only a small fraction persisted; the vast majority deleted their Mage characters and returned to playing Swordmaster.

“Aaaaah, the Mage is finally out!”
“A game without Mages is incomplete!”
“Only Mages have style—in the continent of Alyria, Mages are untouchable!”
“I never play melee. Ranged is my destiny!”
“No matter what, I’m playing Mage. Mages are my true love!”
“But what about my Swordmaster from the closed beta? This game only allows one character per game pod. If I want to play Mage, I’ll have to abandon him…”
“Dude, just start fresh with us. Mages are awesome! Let’s go play Mage together!”
“……”

The comments under the announcement were more lively than ever. Cloud players surged in, most yelling about how they wanted to play Mage. Only a small number pointed to the warning about the class being difficult and cautioned others not to get too optimistic.

“Have you guys seen how hard Bix Magic Cube is? That level 20 dungeon, Slaver’s Cave—could you even beat it at level 20? That’s what the game considers a level 20 difficulty!”
“Forget level 20—I’m almost level 40 and I still can’t clear it consistently, and the dungeon caps at level 40…”

It was a beginner dungeon, accessible from levels 20 to 40. Since players weren’t yet fully adapted to holographic combat, there were still very few guides. As a result, many found this entry-level dungeon shockingly hard.
The drops were good, sure, but it might be more reliable to grind contribution points and gamble for a skill at Pei Sen’s place.

“Think about how hard it was to fight mobs on Starfall Plains in the early days—Savage Hoppers, first-rank magical beasts. How many times did they kick you so hard your head buzzed? And Swordmaster is marked as an easy class.”
“Swordmaster is easy. Mage is just ‘a bit more difficult,’ right?”
“Knowing Bix Magic Cube? I don’t think it’s that simple. Yuanfang, what do you think?”
“Better choose carefully. But hey, it’s just the start of open beta—you can test it out. If it’s too hard, just delete your character and switch back to Swordmaster, not too late.”
“From what I’ve seen, there aren’t many NPC Mages, supposedly because being a Mage is extremely hard.”
“Question—can someone like me, with years of experience as a clumsy player, manage the hardest class in a holographic game? I always picked the easiest, game-recommended classes in PC and mobile games…”
“…Girl, don’t drag us down. Just pick Swordmaster.”
“……”

The forum buzzed with chatter. Pei Sen skimmed a few posts, then raised his hand. A small flame danced at his fingertip.
Is Mage hard? Yeah, it really is. Otherwise, after all these years since Bix Magic Cube launched, the number of Mage players would not still be second to last among all classes.

Last place was always the Priest—unshakable.
Mage was just hard, but Priest? Priests were incomprehensible. There’s a difference. Mage skills were hard to learn. Priest skills… most people couldn’t even learn them at all.

On the continent of Alyria, there were four available classes: Swordmaster, Thief, Mage, and Priest. It looked like a standard Western fantasy game setup. But players soon found out: the last two were traps. Huge traps.
Just like in Alyria itself—Mages had a high barrier to entry, Priests were full of mysticism. The game world wasn’t going to change for the players; players had to adapt to it.

By comparison, Swordmaster was truly easy. Even Thief was harder than Swordmaster.

“At this rate, the Thief class should be out soon,” Pei Sen thought. He remembered Thief was released right after launch. A huge wave of players jumped in—and then quickly switched back to Swordmaster.

Bix Magic Cube didn’t lie. When it said Swordmaster was easy, it meant it.

“But now that Mage is out, should I release some Mage skill stones for players to draw from?” Pei Sen pondered. “Feels doable. But even if they pull Mage skills and can’t learn them, will they say I’m scamming them?”
Pei Sen still had a conscience. “Whatever. I’m pricing everything clearly and fairly. I didn’t force anyone to buy the skill stones. If they gamble and can’t learn the skill—that’s not on me.”

Mage skills were fundamentally different from Swordmaster skills. For Swordmaster, you learned it and you were done.
For Mage, you had to memorize a headache-inducing 3D model and etch it into your skill panel to learn it.
Sound easy? It’s not. You can’t just copy it.

In holographic mode, the game doesn’t give you an environment to trace or follow. You have to memorize it, then recreate it in one go, with perfect lines and placement. Any error—any line or dot wrong—and you fail.

Pei Sen remembered some player raging on the forums, saying he tried thousands of times before finally etching a single skill. After that, he gave up the Mage class entirely.

Each spell model was a dizzying, irregular mass of lines—chaotic and ruleless. Just memorizing one was nearly impossible.

“And that,” Pei Sen thought, “is only the first barrier to playing Mage.”
The second barrier? Accuracy after casting—i.e., whether your spell hits the target, which could be a make-or-break issue.

Mages were a ranged class. In traditional PC or mobile RPGs, targeting is usually automated—unless it’s an FPS. But in holographic gaming, there’s no such thing as target-lock.

If you’re a melee class like Swordmaster or Thief, or even using something like the Soul-Hunting Rifle (which has auto-aim), you’re okay.
But as a Mage, you have to manually adjust your position and aim each spell precisely within range. Spell forms and trajectories vary wildly. Without enough practice, you’ll be wildly misfiring all over the place.

“They’ll understand after getting smacked around a bit,” Pei Sen thought optimistically. “Anyway, Thief class might launch in a month. The players who quit Mage in frustration can just delete their characters and try that instead. Maybe Thief will hit a new peak then.”

Bit by bit, Bix Magic Cube was becoming more polished. With more classes added, the real main storyline might be close to launching.

So far, closed beta players had been treating faction storylines like the main quest. Except for tossing a couple main quests at Pei Sen, Bix Magic Cube hadn’t revealed any others. Clearly, the game was still evolving and testing. It had started off clumsy, not quite sure how to be a “real” game.

Meanwhile, most closed beta players had gathered in Icecrag City, locked in a strategic battle with the Blackrock Gang. After Sevin, the city lord of Icecrag, was taken by Eagle, Eagle sent Ichabod to hold the city. He didn’t dare send someone weaker—they’d probably be assassinated by the gang.

Sevin’s removal had made a strong statement. The next day, the lords of the other five cities hurried to Red Maple Castle, eager to swear loyalty to Eagle.

The only holdout was the Blackstone City lord, who like Sevin, was entangled with the Blackrock Gang and didn’t dare defect.

Eagle wasn’t worried. The Blackrock Gang would be wiped out sooner or later. How long could that guy hide?

For the other five city lords, it didn’t matter who sat in the lord’s seat—as long as they stayed lords themselves.
Thankfully, the Red Maple family hadn’t risen to power, or their people might be scrambling to seize authority. But under the current new lord, who had few followers, their own positions were relatively secure.

Pei Sen poured tea for the lords and stepped aside. One of them couldn’t help but glance again at the strikingly handsome steward. He was better informed than the others and knew this steward was the new lord’s confidant. He dared not show attitude, lest he offend him unknowingly.

The other four lords didn’t care much about Pei Sen. To them, even if he was a close aide, nobles only respected nobles. And small-time lords often clung even more tightly to this sense of superiority.

Eagle sat silently by the fireplace, observing the nervous city lords. They were mostly in their forties or fifties. On the continent of Alyria, commoners rarely lived past forty. Slaves usually died before thirty.
But nobles, thanks to supernatural power, lived longer and stronger lives—enhanced by potions and divine blessings.

Thus, though in their forties, these lords still looked vigorous—certainly younger than Sevin.

Pei Sen watched them, then looked at Eagle, who showed no fear.
The young master was changing. Maybe because Sadin had left, Kesso had died, and he’d left the Lanno domain—something in him had been released. He no longer hid his nature.

Precocious, calm, dominant, outstanding—he was no longer just a moody boy. He revealed less of his thoughts now, except to Pei Sen. Others could no longer meet his gaze.

The young master had grown into a true lord—one worthy of awe and respect. Even Ichabod no longer dared disobey his commands.
More and more people recognized his excellence. Those who followed him from Golden Rose Manor to Frost Maple now stood united—his finest blades.

In contrast, the city lords grew more uneasy. They dared not underestimate this newly appointed overlord. Sevin had already proven how dangerous it was to do so.

They had originally wanted to bring guards, but Sevin’s example made them hesitate. The castle was heavily fortified; they decided not to provoke the new lord.

Fortunately, Eagle didn’t intend to throw them all in prison.

“You’ve come to pledge your loyalty?”
“Yes, my lord.” The first to speak was the only woman among them. Her background was similar to Lady Mary from Golden Rose Manor—originally a trusted steward of the Red Maple lady, later appointed to govern Frostmoon City.
Eagle nodded. “That’s acceptable.”

He really didn’t have that many suitable candidates for city lords. The Red Maple lady’s notes indicated these five had flaws, but not as serious as Sevin’s. If no better candidates were found, they could stay.

And right now, Eagle had no better options.

Only the Blackstone City lord needed to be dealt with—but there was no rush. Let him stay scared a while longer. That was fun.

On Eagle’s end, he was gradually stabilizing Frost Maple Territory. Meanwhile, nothing major was happening back in the Lanno Territory.

Eagle had entrusted Golden Rose Manor to Aiken. He trusted this friend deeply—Aiken not only managed Arzi Town, but now also oversaw the entire Lanno Territory’s administration.

For most people, taking over a domain would require an adjustment period. But not for Aiken. The territory he’d once managed was even larger than this one. That was precisely why Eagle chose him for the job.

Furthermore, the Lanno Territory had already been thoroughly purged. Both Casey City and Arzi had undergone reconstruction, and all potential threats had been eliminated. For Aiken, managing it now was not just easy—it was almost enjoyable.

“This is how a lord should act,” Aiken said. “Everything chaotic has been completely crushed underfoot.”

His housekeeper, Vido, retorted, “Only Count Eagle can manage a territory like this. Don’t get any ideas.”

Aiken laughed but didn’t respond. After a moment, he asked, “Any news from the territory?”

By “the territory,” he didn’t mean the Lanno domain he was currently managing temporarily, but his own original domain.

Vido was silent for a moment before replying, “I heard the young master Boswick recently left the domain to visit a few surrounding lords.”

Aiken sneered. “The new Viscount Oak Boswick is already out socializing, huh?”

When Aiken was still lord, his relations with neighboring domains had been lukewarm. The old nobles looked down on him as a new upstart, and Aiken didn’t care to engage with such stubborn relics of the past.

However, they were long-time friends of the Boswick family—ancient nobility, unlike Aiken.

Oak Boswick had indeed left the domain to visit neighboring lords. And it wasn’t just about socializing—they needed to exchange intel in person, especially with unrest stirring in the capital. Everyone had started making rounds, sharing whispers.

Despite the existence of magical communication, face-to-face meetings were still the most secure method.

That day, Oak even visited Viscount Frey’s estate—and there, he met two unexpected people.

“I told you, even if I came back, Viscount Frey would never abandon me,” Jekko said with a bitter smile.

The lich nearly jumped up and cursed, “He nearly got you killed in Lanno Territory! And now he gives you a measly pouch of coins and kicks you out?!”

“Not just that—he even freed me from slavery,” Jekko smiled faintly. “That’s already generous. I failed the mission and caused him trouble. It’s not his fault.”

The lich glared at him. “You’re still defending him? He blamed the entire failed assassination on you! And he refused to believe anything we said about how terrifying the Bix race was—he thought you were exaggerating to excuse failure! We didn’t lie at all!”

The lich was fuming. During their talk with Viscount Frey, as Jekko recounted what happened in the Lanno Territory, Frey’s retainers outright laughed at them, treating it like some absurd fantasy. The mockery had made the lich furious.

Jekko remained calm. “Honestly, when I think back to what happened in Lanno, it all feels like a dream. Completely unreal. If they hadn’t seen it themselves, they’d never believe it. If I were them, I’d probably think it was a lie too.”

It was all just too unbelievable. Strange and mysterious beings, fearless madmen, born warriors—the so-called Bix were unlike anything Alyria had ever seen. When Jekko finally put it all into words, he himself realized how surreal it sounded.

“So what now?” The lich glanced at the small pouch of coins. It wasn’t even enough to cover their travel expenses. He’d assumed Frey would reimburse him, but this? They were practically broke.

Jekko smiled bitterly. “Where can a newly freed slave like me go? I have no idea…”

The lich looked at him sympathetically. They’d been through a lot together. When they first arrived at Frey’s estate, the Viscount wasn’t home, so they stayed for a while and even bonded a little. Jekko was even poorer than the lich—if he took all the coins, Jekko might starve to death.

On impulse, the lich said, “Why don’t you come back to Lanno Territory with me?” And immediately regretted it. Two penniless men sticking together would only be more miserable.

Jekko was stunned. “You’re going back? After offending the lord of Lanno like that?”

“Of course I’m going back,” the lich said matter-of-factly. “My home is there.”

The lich didn’t know that… his “home” had already been completely looted.

At that moment, Oak Boswick rode up on horseback. “You two came from Lanno Territory?”

He had sharp hearing and had caught enough of their conversation from afar.

Jekko looked up at the nobleman. “Yes, my lord.”

Oak raised his head and looked off into the distance, toward Lanno Territory. For a moment, his face showed a hint of sorrow and longing that neither Jekko nor the lich could understand.

“I’m heading to Lanno Territory,” he said. “If it’s possible, I’d like to hire you both as my guides.”

The lich immediately lit up—he was already worrying about travel expenses, and now they could save money!

But Jekko gave a bitter smile. “My lord, we once offended the lord of Lanno. If you hire us as guides, it may not be appropriate.”

The lich glared at him, practically ready to strangle Jekko. Wasn’t this guy supposed to be clever? Why was he suddenly acting so stupid?

Jekko ignored him. Unless absolutely necessary, he didn’t want to offend another noble again. As a former slave, he understood too well how dangerous nobles could be. And this one in particular didn’t look like someone to mess with. Best to be honest up front.

The tall, handsome young man on the horse said coldly, “It’s fine. I doubt I’ll be a welcome guest in Lanno anyway.”

Several days later, Lanno Territory would receive an uninvited guest.