I Became a Raid Boss

Chapter 69

Viewers who watched Joanie’s broadcast…

And those who didn’t watch but were still interested…

There was a recent topic that had been circulating.

[Just how strong is Kana-chan?]

I get that she’s ridiculously strong, but I have no clue how strong she actually is.

[Comments]

—Why does this post feel like it’s written by an old man?

Actually, calling it a recent topic wasn’t quite right.

Kana’s combat abilities had been a steady topic of discussion ever since she was called by the name “Gravekeeper.”

Over that period, people’s opinions had changed countless times.

“Honestly, Gravekeeper’s patterns are just shitty. What boss wouldn’t be hard if designed like that?”

Sure, she’s strong, but the real issue is that Demoninus made her absurdly difficult, so it feels even harder. In terms of pure combat strength, there are many NPCs stronger than Gravekeeper.

Some even went as far as to compare her to bosses that had already been conquered long ago and were now farmed repeatedly for loot, making her feel like just another watered-down boss.

A watered-down boss given advantages by the system.

That was the initial reaction.

But when Kana’s hood was removed, and with just two slashes she annihilated the Imperial Knights—

[Holy shit, you all said she was a watered-down boss;]

When did a watered-down boss become a hydrogen bomb???

Two slashes from that watered-down boss could obliterate an entire nation, wtf;;;

[Comments]

—Uh… she was supposed to be a watered-down boss…?

—I’m going to go buy a watered-down boss crafting kit right now, lmao.

┗ Wait, stop;

┗ You trying to start World War III?

People came to accept that Kana was more than just a system-favored boss.

Of course, this level of power could only be achieved because Demoninus designed her that way, but isn’t it the same for other NPCs?

Naturally, people’s curiosity grew.

Even Yuki, regarded as the strongest among players, couldn’t stand against the Imperial Knights.

Yet the Imperial Knights were quaking in fear, begging for their lives in front of the brilliant prodigy swordswoman, Kana.

Just how strong was she?

There was a brief stir when her true identity was revealed, but it didn’t cause any major changes.

“What?! She was the Commander of the Crimson Knights of the fallen Grasis Kingdom?!”

…So what? Nobody even knows what that means, you goddamn nerd.

Neither Grasis nor even the people of Silia would know what that title meant to an Earthling.

Maybe they’d understand if it were the famous Imperial Knights, but there was no way Earthlings would know about the strength of a kingdom that had already fallen.

Being the commander of the greatest knightly order of a kingdom was impressive enough in itself.

But that was about the extent of their understanding.

However, Kana shattered that perception once more.

By taking down a level 78-dimensional creature.

Who could have imagined a massive wolf-like dimensional beast, larger than a building, collapsing at the feet of a small girl?

If it were that easy, sports like boxing or wrestling wouldn’t bother having weight classes.

Even in a world of swords and magic, the basic rule of combat that the bigger fighter has the advantage still held true.

There’s a reason players avoided large monsters like ogres or golems.

Yet Kana, in her small frame, defeated a massive dimensional creature that could have blotted out the sky.

…How?

With just a single sword.

That day, among the players watching the broadcast…

Those who walked the lonely path of adventurers, partnering with their swords and the wind—swordsmen—couldn’t help but shed tears.

How long had they endured the mockery of dirty archers and obnoxious magicians, being called nothing but “sword idiots?”

They didn’t even know that it was the swordsmen who bravely shielded them in the frontlines so they could safely deal damage in the back!

And it wasn’t as if other melee classes wielding axes or spears would show understanding either.

Sure, people often said swords were versatile weapons, but that’s only true for those who received a certain level of training.

For most Earthlings, who’ve never held a real weapon before, this was just nonsense.

It’s far more effective to stab with a spear or bash with an axe than to swing a sword, which lowered the reputation of swords even more.

Despite that, there were still many who chose the path of the sword—

But in the end, among players, swordsmen were more often called “aggro shuttles” or “sword fools” than by the honorable title of “swordsman.”

For them, Kana’s existence was like a bible.

A bible that proved their path was not wrong.

The radiant light awaited at the end of the road we walk.

Countless sword idiots…

No,

Swordsmen were mesmerized by the sight of the small girl.

The influence of Kana was so great that even those who used other weapons were setting them down to take up swords.

But even so, players’ curiosity was still not satisfied.

The leveling system served as a tool for players to gauge one’s strength.

Like some NPCs, Kana’s level was not visible, making it impossible to know exactly how strong she was. However, considering she showed no signs of fatigue even after defeating a level 78-dimensional creature, it was clear that her level must be significantly higher.

— “She’s probably stronger than the Imperial Emperor, right?”

— “Who says the Emperor is automatically strong? The Imperial Swordsmen could be stronger than him….”

— “Rumor has it that the Grand Chief of the Elves in the Great Forest is super strong.”

— “Yeah, whatever~ One dragon’s purr and it’ll be grilled chicken.”

— “What kind of madman are you?”

No one could now deny that Kana was strong, and the only question remaining was just “how strong she really is.”

And people knew from experience…

The most effective way to solve a mystery is to ask the person directly.

“Kana~”

“…?!”

Kana’s pink hair, which had been lazily draped down, suddenly stood on end.

Shin Da-eun scratched her head, looking at Kana, who instantly switched into alert mode, as if she were ready to peck someone with her beak at any moment.

‘…Was this not the right approach?’

Even Da-eun had to admit that her voice just now had been overly soft.

It wasn’t just sweet; it was so saccharine that it could make one shudder.

Even though this was the new and affectionate Kana, infused with dere-dere* qualities after having had an honest conversation with Da-eun, it seemed like it was still too difficult for her to accept Da-eun’s tone of voice. *(roughly means to show affection for the other character.)

“Ahem.”

Da-eun, her face slightly flushed, cleared her throat.

Then, she spoke to Kana, who was still watching her warily.

“Kana, just how strong are you?”

Kana blinked blankly at the sudden, out-of-context question.

But Da-eun had a reason for asking this question.

[Anonymous Benefactor has donated … won! Thank you!]

[‘DogThatBarksWhenEatingSomethingBad’ has donated … won! Thank you!]

[‘Yuki’ has donated … won! Thank you!]

That reason was none other than donations.

The messages contained in these donations were almost identical.

They all asked if Da-eun could ask Kana directly.

Having seen similar messages in the chat for a long time, Da-eun was quite used to it.

She had always hesitated to ask because the question felt somewhat ambiguous to pose outright, but today, the donations were pouring in with a singular focus.

The chat was now filled with comments questioning the situation, swept up in the wave of donations.

With the momentum building up like this, it was hard for Da-eun to ignore it any longer.

‘…It’s absolutely not because the amount is too large to turn down.’

It’s just the atmosphere—the atmosphere’s what made me do it.

…More importantly, what’s up with this “Yuki” person? Could it really be her?

Da-eun, thinking it might be an impersonator, checked the donor named Yuki, only to burst into a small laugh upon confirming that it was indeed her Yuki, the real one.

In any case, this was why Da-eun had asked Kana that question.

But for Kana, who was suddenly asked “how strong” she was, it was a bewildering situation.

How on earth is one supposed to describe “strength,” an intangible concept, with words?

At the very least, if there were something to compare it to, she could explain it in relation to that…

‘…A point of comparison?’

Kana’s expression suddenly shifted, as if she had realized something.

The girl leaped off the rock she had been sitting on and grabbed the sword hanging at her waist, still sheathed.

“…!”

It’s an attack!

Whenever Kana drew her sword, Da-eun instinctively assumed a defensive stance.

The memories from the past few days of training were etched deeply enough into Da-eun’s body to evoke a conditioned response.

If Kana had seen Da-eun’s actions, she would have been delighted and clapped her hands in approval, but Kana paid no mind to her behavior.

With the chat bursting into laughter behind her, Da-eun awkwardly lowered her sword.

“What are you doing?”

“…Wait.”

Sccccch—

Kana dragged the tip of her sword sheath across the ground, leaving a long line.

Seeing the sudden drawing in the dirt, Da-eun let out a confused, “Huh?”

Well, it was… cute, but…

“This is… Joanie’s level.”

“Ah-ha?”

So that’s what this is.

Da-eun nodded her head.

Seeing her response, Kana drew another line a little further away.

“This is Greatsword Chick.”

“Hmm… The difference is bigger than I thought.”

“It’s actually a lot closer than before.”

Kana added in a small voice that it used to be much farther apart in the past.

Hmm… Is that so? Well, Yuki is really strong, after all.

Kana wouldn’t lie about something like this.

In any case, since it meant she had gotten stronger compared to before, Da-eun happily accepted Kana’s words.

So, what about you, Kana?”

“I was just about to show you.”

As if she had been waiting for that cue, Kana held her sword and dashed off with light, rapid steps.

At first, Da-eun looked at her fondly, but as Kana grew smaller and smaller until she was no bigger than a fingertip, Da-eun could only stare at her with her mouth agape like an idiot.

She could barely see Kana’s tiny hand draw a line in the distance.

Soon, the small bird-like figure returned, mission accomplished.

“…Did you see?”

Pride peeked through Kana’s normally stoic expression.

…Da-eun had the urge to flick the small pink head that was swelling with arrogance.

But, as the saying goes, the law is far, but the fist is near.

If she did something like that, she might be punished with a “10,000 times the training” sentence on the spot.

In this case, it would be her fault for not being able to tolerate being teased by a child and resorting to violence, so even the law wouldn’t be on her side.

‘Internet streamer under fire for assaulting a young girl in a video game…’

‘Excesses of internet broadcasting—Is this okay?’

…Da-eun had no intention of becoming the protagonist of such headlines.

The children’s song “It’d be great if I could be on TV” wasn’t something she wanted to see come true in such a manner.

So Da-eun forced a smile and spoke.

“Hehe, come on, don’t joke around, okay?”

“…Joking?”

Joking…? I’m not joking.

Kana’s face turned deadly serious.

Da-eun’s forced smile faded away as well.

Just as people on Earth call bronze-grade mercenaries “junk-grade” and silver-grade mercenaries “trash,” the residents of Silia have a special term to refer to those who reach the Master level.

A word that means “daydream” or “idle fantasy.”

The term “Daydream”.

Everyone who throws themselves into battle dreams of becoming a Master.

But among them, only a mere handful actually reach the Master level.

Although the gap between Expert and Master is only a single step, that single step is as vast as the sky and earth.

Players, backed by gods, may be able to reach that level more quickly than the residents of Silia…

‘Who knows?’

At least for now, it seemed far off.

Kana shook her head and handed a set of word cards to Da-eun.

“…Huh?”

Da-eun looked up, sensing a presence.

Reading the word written on the card in front of her, Da-eun’s eyes sharpened.

“What’s this? ‘Trash’…? Wait, I’ve never taught you a word like this!”

Kana should only be learning good things!

With that determination, Da-eun had filled the word cards with only proper and kind words, yet there it was—an unwanted word, written boldly on the card.

The word ‘Trash’ was written in a cute but crooked handwriting.

While it’s true that Kana knew that word, she shouldn’t have been able to write it yet, as she still didn’t know how to spell it out in Arkish.

With her eyes still narrowed, Da-eun glanced around and quickly found the culprit.

After all, if it wasn’t Kana or herself, there was only one other person it could be, and that suspect was avoiding eye contact in a guilty manner.

Celine cleared her throat.

“Ehem! I’m sorry. Kana asked me to teach her how to write it, and I just… couldn’t help myself.”

“Celineee!”

Completely ignoring Da-eun’s exclamation, Kana picked up a pen and scribbled down the Granic translation next to the word “Trash.”

She wrote “Joanie.”