05. First Party

"Are you alone? Want to come with us?" a teenager asked, his blond hair swaying with every energetic step. He carried a spear slung across his shoulder, the weapon's polished metal catching the afternoon light. "But first, what task did you take?"

Alden didn't answer right away. Instead, he observed, his eyes moving over the young man before him. Measuring. Calculating. Weighing every possible outcome, every angle of this interaction.

The teenager before him seemed to be a melee class based on the spear, wearing light armor that, while still minimal, was far better than Alden's own brown fur outfit. The chest piece looked reinforced with metal plates, offering at least some decent protection against blades and claws.

But if he joined them... what could he even offer?

He was still at level one. He hadn't even tested his Circle Slash skill once in actual combat outside the trial. He didn't know the basics of party dynamics—how to link attacks with teammates, how to create effective combos, how to read an enemy's rhythm in coordination with others.

"I... I'm still new here," Alden said, his voice low and cautious.

"That's not a problem at all!" The teenager's smile didn't falter. "I was a newbie too, you know. Not that long ago. If no one had helped me when I first arrived, I'd probably still be wandering around clueless, getting killed by slimes or something equally embarrassing." He laughed at himself.

"Don't you want to learn more about this world? How things actually work?"

He was right, of course.

Alden knew that this was an opportunity. With an experienced party, he might learn what he desperately needed to survive beyond the beginner areas. More than that, he could take his first real step forward into this new life, instead of fumbling around alone until something inevitably killed him.

"I might end up slowing you down," Alden said honestly. "I don't want to be dead weight."

"Nah, don't worry about that! I was completely useless at the start," the teenager laughed again, poking fun at himself without a trace of shame. "Died three times in my first week. Three! But you?" He pointed at Alden with his free hand. "You're different. I can tell."

Before Alden could ask what he meant, the young man flicked open Alden's status window using what must have been the Connection feature. His eyes scanned the information, and his grin widened.

"Warrior class, huh? That's more like it. You'll be fine, trust me. We'll be fine." He dismissed the window with a casual wave. "We're both signed up for the Swarm of Imps mission, right?"

Alden gave a small nod. The teenager's enthusiasm seemed genuine enough, but maybe a little too eager? Still, maybe this unease was just his own paranoia talking. Maybe it would actually lead to something better than struggling alone.

"Then what are you waiting for?" The young man grinned broadly, extending his hand in an enthusiastic gesture. "No time to waste standing around. Let's complete this mission together. We cool?"

He had introduced himself as Archie somewhere in the conversation—Alden's mind caught up with the detail. He seemed decent enough on the surface. Friendly, at least. So Alden reached out and accepted the handshake.

Just before the party invitation notification flashed into his view, Alden thought he caught a faint smile pass across Archie's lips. Something subtle that didn't quite match the friendly exterior.

But it was gone so quickly he might have imagined it.

[Party Invitation: Leader Archie]

Do you want to join?

Alden mentally accepted, even though deep down, part of him still wanted to take this adventure alone. To prove he could do it himself, that he didn't need anyone else. Old habits from his previous life, maybe. The instinct to be self-reliant because relying on others had always ended in disappointment.

"All right! Welcome aboard, Alden," Archie said warmly, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let's go meet the others first and go over our strategy before we take on those damn Imps. They're tricky little bastards if you don't know their patterns."

Alden followed him through the crowded plaza. Though he had survived the chamber ruin spiders through sheer determination and luck, this was fundamentally different. This was cooperative play. Teamwork. Trusting others with his life and them trusting him with theirs.

Maybe it was the memory of his past life surfacing of never being truly accepted by colleagues, always kept at arm's length. The office politics, the fake smiles, the way people had talked about him when they thought he couldn't hear.

Called him obsessive, antisocial, difficult to work with. He'd been isolated from genuine connection, pushed to the margins until he'd simply stopped trying.

Now, the idea of working closely with people again... it made him nervous. Anxious in a way that had nothing to do with monsters or quests.

He couldn't help but wonder if those same cold eyes and cruel whispers would eventually return here too. If Ascendria would prove to be just another place where he didn't truly fit in.

"Yo! I'm back, everyone!" Archie's shout pulled Alden from his thoughts as they stepped through the entrance of a small tavern.

The building was modest but well-maintained, with wooden tables scattered throughout and a bar along one wall. "We've got what we need to complete our team composition!"

Inside, three other reincarnators waited, each distinct and immediately imposing in their own way.

The first was a man wearing sleek robes inscribed with intricate cosmic symbols. Stars, constellations, mathematical formulas that seemed to shimmer and move across the fabric. The outfit was elegant and clearly expensive, marking him as either successful or well-connected. A mage, almost certainly, based on the ornate staff leaning against his chair. His expression was cold and analytical as he looked up at their entrance.

The second figure stood leaning against the far wall, a man in half-plate leather armor that looked both flexible and protective. A massive longbow was strapped to his back, easily as tall as he was, and a quiver of arrows hung at his hip. His ears were slightly pointed, an elf, Alden realized with a start. So there were other races among the reincarnators, not just humans.

And the woman... she looked every bit like a fantasy witch pulled straight from a storybook. Clad entirely in black from head to toe, with a wide-brimmed pointed hat casting deep shadows across the upper half of her face. Her eyes gleamed from beneath the shadow. Dark energy seemed to cling to her like perfume, making the air around her feel slightly colder.

"Just make sure he doesn't mess up our tactics," the mage said immediately. His arms crossed over his chest, and his expression remained distant and unreadable. Cold. Professional. "We're close to clearing the higher wave counts. All we need now is a proper distraction to manage the adds while we burn down the boss."

"What's his class, Archie? Are you absolutely sure he's a tank?" the witch added, her piercing eyes scanning Alden like he was a potential threat.

"I think he is," Archie replied, approaching the group with Alden trailing slightly behind. "Don't Warriors usually have decent defense stats? That's the whole point of the class."

"Wait, what do you mean by Warrior class?" The elven bowman pushed off the wall, stepping closer to Archie with a frown creasing his angular features. "As in, like... basic Warrior? The same generic class the town guards use? The one literally anyone can get?"

"Hold on, you're serious, Archie?" The witch moved closer as well, her disbelief cutting through the air like a knife. "You brought us a basic class?"

"No! I mean, his class is Valor Warrior," Archie defended, his voice rising with frustration and a hint of desperation. "That's different, right? It's got a name modifier, so it has to be a specialized variant or something."

"Typical Archie," the bowman muttered, disappointment plain in his voice. His pointed ears twitched with annoyance. "We specifically told you to recruit someone with a significant class if we wanted to push our clear rating higher. Not just grab the first person you saw."

"Let's see for ourselves," the mage said, his cold voice cutting through the building argument and silencing the party. He rose from his chair and stepped toward Alden, closing the distance until he stopped in front of him.

"This mission is about resilience," the mage stated. "It's about how long you can survive and maintain aggro through ten relentless waves of increasingly difficult enemies. Each wave spawns more Imps with better stats."

He locked eyes with Alden, and there was no welcome there. "By the end of this run, we'll know your worth. Whether you're just another useless liability—no better than an NPC—or something actually useful."

Then he turned away dismissively, already moving toward the tavern exit. "Shall we visit the blacksmith first? He'll need at least a shield if he's expected to hold them."

Archie nodded, but his eyes were heavy with the weight of leadership, maybe, or the pressure of his team's expectations. Alden could feel the tension from him. The unspoken fear of failure.

And yet, a question burned in Alden's mind: Why didn't Archie just replace him? If even his own teammates weren't confident in Alden's abilities, why keep him around? Why not spend another hour finding someone better?

"Just follow our lead," Archie said as they prepared to leave. His voice had replaced with something more subdued. "You'll be fine. We believe in you, Alden."

Did they?

Alden wasn't sure if he should feel grateful for the party invitation... or resentful of them. They'd mocked him outright within seconds of meeting him, shown no respect for his potential, and offered no real trust or benefit of the doubt. If there was any genuine belief in him, it felt hollow. Forced. Like polite words spoken to keep things civil and avoid awkwardness, not because they actually meant it.

Still, he had accepted the party invitation. He had a role to fill now, a responsibility. Doing this mission alone wasn't realistic—he could admit that to himself. Not after hearing that even this experienced group of level 10+ players needed a proper tank to complete the higher difficulty version.

And every single one of them was significantly higher level than him, with classes that sounded rare and powerful.

Besides, looking at their actual stats and classes... Alden understood why they thought his Valor Warrior was worthless in comparison.

[Party Status Overview]

[Data Information: Archie]

Race: Human Reincarnator

Level: 11

Class: Vanguard Lancer

Affinity: Flame

Role: Frontline DPS / Melee

Status: Not Awakened

Title: Trusted Leader

[Data Information: Carius]

Race: Human Reincarnator

Level: 13

Class: Rift Evoker

Affinity: Space

Role: Ranged DPS / Mage

Status: Not Awakened

Title: The Stargazer, Apprentice Scholar

[Data Information: Evaron]

Race: Elf Reincarnator

Level: 12

Class: Arcane Fletcher

Affinity: Light

Role: Ranged DPS / Archer

Status: Not Awakened

Title: Friend of the Animals, Mark on Target, Apprentice Archer

[Data Information: Serina]

Race: Human Reincarnator

Level: 10

Class: Crimson Witch

Affinity: Dark Magic

Role: Buff Provider / Support

Status: Not Awakened

Title: Blood Controller

From that moment, several things became painfully clear. First, reincarnators weren't exclusively human—Evaron proved that elves existed here too, and probably other races as well. Second, the magic system was incredibly diverse: flames, spatial manipulation, light, dark blood magic. Each affinity seemed to open entirely different combat styles and possibilities.

The classes themselves were remarkable. Vanguard Lancer suggested an elite spear-user with defensive capabilities. Rift Evoker implied someone who could manipulate space itself. Teleportation? Gravity? Dimensional attacks? Arcane Fletcher combined magic with archery, probably firing enchanted arrows. And Crimson Witch with "Blood Controller" as a title sounded both terrifying and powerful.

Compared to all of that, his own Valor Warrior class really did seem underwhelming. Forgotten. Generic. No different from what a low-ranking town guard NPC might have.

Maybe they were right to doubt him.

But Alden clenched his fists, feeling the familiar weight of the Ancient Silver Sword at his hip. He'd survived the trial when he had nothing. He'd adapted, learned, pushed through despite being terrified and overwhelmed.

He could do it again.