Overgeared

It was a world where bizarre cultures were common. There were many areas in the world that were out of reach. The more closed off the place, the more bizarre it was.

'There are really many things that are different from the usual.'

From the very beginning, and just based on the clothing that they wore, Grenier's natives were bizarre. They were covered with monster skins and decorated with skulls. They were wearing outfits worthy of the temperament of skinning people alive.

Grid confronted them casually. He realized the vastness of the world through these bizarre barbarians.

"What...?"

On the other hand, the natives were shocked, like they had been struck by lightning. It was different from Grid, who had witnessed and experienced many things in the world. They were just frogs at the bottom of a well. For those who believed that Grenier was the whole world, the transcendent presence coming from Grid was a concept that was difficult to accept.

"What do I look like?"

"......"

The man who appeared silently and snatched their companions. No one answered Grid's question. There was only silence. Many natives were dazzled by the wave of energy being emitted by the Overgeared God that spread an orange light. The sun that lit up their mornings and day was actually divine. God had descended. God was angry. Etc, etc.

It happened just before the thoughts that emerged uncontrollably in the minds of the natives were expressed in words...

"Hey!" The woman wearing the ogre skull shouted. The veins on her neck bulged as she shouted loudly to cover up her trembling voice. She, the chief of the Removal Tribe, felt fear.

Only a few seconds had passed since an unidentified intruder broke into the scene. Envy filled the eyes of the tribe people looking at the intruder. It was a similar reaction when facing the guardian of the Mountain King. Something that shouldn't happen was about to happen...

"He is a guy who uses very evil black arts! I'm sure he is the king of the yōkai! Block your ears! Shut your mouth! Keep your eyes open! Hold the spear and stab him!" the chief shouted loudly.

She wasn't concerned at all about her companions caught and struggling in Grid's hands. Did what others were being subjected to matter? The natives had lived on the barren mountain and had limited lives. Only their own safety was precious.

"Wahhhh!"

The tribe people of the Removal Tribe obeyed the chief. It was because the chief managed the honey they collected from the cliff at the risk of their lives, and the milk of very precious mountain goats. Submitting to the chief was the only way to enrich their lives.

Just then, Grid split into two people. It wasn't a big deal. He simply summoned Randy.

The doppelganger of the mysterious forest—thanks to Pagma's kindness, he copied Pagma's appearance and abilities, and maintained it for many years. This meant he was familiar with the power of a legend even before meeting Grid. Since then, he had developed steadily alongside Grid. In addition to copying Grid's appearance, he had reached the point where he could implement 50% of Grid's stats. In other words—

"Kuaaaaak!"

"Hiiik!"

The enemies Grid usually dealt with were rare and strong opponents. This meant that Grid often used Randy as a meat shield. However, it was not because he underestimated Randy. It was simply inevitable because the enemies were too strong. Yet when facing ordinary (?) enemies like now, Randy alone was enough.

black arts is

feet, and the natives couldn't even respond. They were confused as soon as

"T-That person...?"

their ankles tied by the rope—they were caught by barbarians they couldn't communicate with at all and were waiting for death. Now they

step, he stretched out like a gale. The movement of his fists and

took a closer look

"Gasp! O-Overgeared God...!"

In fact, most of the gods that the monks served came from an ordinary human origin. The god of hunting,

to Debirion's warmth that the villagers could live while being exploited by their lords. They didn't tremble in the cold thanks to the leather he gave them, and they didn't starve due to the meat he gave them. Debirion even taught people how to hunt well. All the villagers were good at hunting, so he didn't regret it, even if he might have to go hungry. This was his cause until the moment when he died alone in

worthy and respectable object to learn from, even if there were foolish sides. Therefore, they respected the gods even more. Unlike the followers of the three gods and Yatan, the monks didn't reject the gods served by others. They weren't prejudiced against Grid because he had a human origin, deny him because

he was hanging upside down for a long time, blood flowed as he smiled with a puffy face. He was quite broad-minded. It was

his group, "It isn't the time to laugh. We should try to escape in this

the rope because all our belongings have been taken

I should've trained my abs and

upper body again, and bit the rope.The group kept talking while repeating this. They were relaxed in a manner that didn't fit the urgent situation. They were laughing while

I have chosen the

the path of asceticism due to a

Gnaw gnaw.

the same as his group. He raised his upper body and chewed on the rope tied to his ankle. In fact, there was no other way to

long is it going to take if

asked him a question with a cocked head. His expression was solemn and heavy as he

in the

it possible to use

only blocked the use of magic. In other words, why wasn't he using his

a weak voice, "Monks... don't have a lot of

borrowing power to enhance strength. Well, drink this first." Grid passed a potion to Med. He identified that Med's health was being consumed in real

"What is this...?"

are

why are you helping

it natural for a

"......"

particular, rankers had a tendency to regard even their allies as their competitors. It might be common for players to help NPCs on a moral level, but it was

mouth. He gently received and drank the potion

at the

is very tough

made of twisted wood was as hard as metal. It seemed to have

break it with your teeth. There seems to be some type of seal that can only be released by the shaman who made the rope...?" Med was trying to explain with an awkward expression when his eyes widened. It was because the rope was cut by Grid with just a single swing of his sword. He managed to adjust himself and

other monks and frowned upon rechecking Med's

"Eh? Uh..."