I'm Living as a Healer in Nord World - Chapter 5

Cheers erupted from all around. Indeed, it was just like a game.

However, Leon’s sharp gaze quickly silenced everyone.

“There is a penalty, though.”

The players’ bright expressions instantly hardened. Some, as if already aware, exchanged uneasy glances.

“Every time you die, both your base HP and MP will decrease by 50 points. This reduction applies solely to the core stats, not the item-adjusted figures. Whether it’s death on the field or a PK in the field, the rule is the same. However, we’re still verifying details for the arena, as there are numerous errors.”

A lukewarm response rippled through the crowd.

On closer thought, though, a reduction of 50 points per death was substantial. Most classes, other than tanks, had an average HP hovering around 2,000 to 3,000. Without item-based stat boosts, those numbers could drop drastically.

Moreover, if one were to die just ten times, that would mean a total decrease of 500. Eventually, if all HP and MP were depleted, reaching zero or the minimum threshold…?

As discussions grew longer, more people began to ponder deeply. Facing the increasingly pale players, Leon continued.

“Although this is merely speculation, once all maximum points are drained, it might result in true ‘death.’ That’s my prediction. Some have argued that this kind of death might allow us to return to the real world… but that notion lacks solid reasoning and is far too risky to test immediately.”

Death.

That word stirred every player. In the context of gameplay, death was almost routine.

Lydian thought carefully. For non-combat classes, which typically had lower HP, this was terrifying news. With healing potions disabled and stat-reset potions for adjusting maximum HP and MP being rare, prioritizing survival meant equipping items to boost HP and defense became essential.

Lydian groaned softly.

“Ugh… I can practically hear item prices going up.”

“Item prices?”

“Yes. The middle-tier correction items players use weren’t very efficient, so they were treated as junk items. It made more sense to equip attack-boosting items instead. Even high-level players prefer to boost attack or other stats, aside from tanks. And considering that most players in this game are below level 70, they probably don’t have those items on hand.”

“Oh? You’re right. Though, I did notice some shops within the cities selling them. They’re bottom-tier and expensive, but still available.”

“And I suppose the monsters outside might also drop items, along with higher-grade items and gold?”

Hern nodded with a reluctant expression, acknowledging Lydian’s prediction.

Even if the supply was limited, items had gained value now, making an economic war almost inevitable. At this stage, without a reliable means of income, hunting became crucial to securing resources. Acquiring high-grade items meant risking death, naturally driving up their value, and if the drop rate was low as well…

“With the sensory handicap still in place, who’s even going to want to go hunting? If rarity comes into play… wow, it’s really turning into hell mode. The high-spending players on gold purchases are about to shine here, aren’t they?”

Hern appeared troubled. If those players began hoarding, the situation could escalate significantly.

Just as the more perceptive players had begun to consider these implications, Leon raised his voice once more to regain everyone’s attention.

“We have confirmed that monsters do drop items. Our Combat Guild Alliance is committed to helping all players secure sufficient HP-restoring items.”

The tense atmosphere brightened again. Lydian and Hern exchanged relieved looks.

Of course, challenges like hunting grounds and other variables would arise, but the willingness of high-level rankers to make sacrifices and assist was something deserving of deep gratitude in times like these.

“Everyone, though we are isolated, we are not alone. This is precisely when we must unite and work together. I trust that you all understand the wisdom in this, even without me emphasizing it. Going forward, our Combat Guild Alliance will share information with every player to help them adapt to this world’s system. We will also accommodate those in sudden difficulty, ensuring extra consideration for those less suited for combat.”

His words were truly honorable.

Some sighed in relief at hearing them. Lydian gave a wry nod, agreeing. After all, unlike in real life, this was a game. Whether she herself could go out to the field and face monsters was uncertain.

“For the time being, we will hold information-sharing sessions like this every week, at 10 AM system time on Mondays. As for assistance with system understanding, we’ll post relevant information on the guild’s castle-wide board by tomorrow. If anyone has objections, please raise your hand and speak up.”

No one raised a hand. Watching this, Lydian felt a sense of pride. Nord World was known for having respectful, clean players, with only a few exceptions. Had she ever felt this sentiment so strongly before?

Hern wiped his nose, chuckling.

“Well, it’s mostly what I expected, but it feels reassuring hearing it directly from someone at the helm. Kind of calming the nerves, you know?”

“Exactly. In difficult times, it’s essential to have someone guiding the way. I can’t help but think he’s a natural leader. He was probably thrust into this role because he’s ranked number one, yet he spoke so calmly in front of so many people without a script.”

“No wonder the Korean server’s leading guild has such a legendary guildmaster!”

At Hern’s wide-eyed admiration, Lydian laughed, though slightly bitterly. Well, of course. To a newcomer like Hern, that’s how it would seem.

“Looks like it’s over. Shall we head back?”

Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, Leon announced the dismissal. The once-crowded square bustled as players dispersed in every direction. Lydian and Hern, watching the swarm of players leave, also turned to go.

* * *

“What? So suddenly? Is this some kind of disaster…?”

Lydian stared blankly at the guild castle’s counter.

Behind the low partition, NPC attendants with fixed, cheerful smiles stood ready. Just as she’d barely recovered her shattered mentality after being trapped in this strange place that seemed to blur reality and virtuality, now her housing situation was ripping her resolve to shreds.

“I’m sorry, Miss Lydian. It’s simply the rule.”

“But… How can you demand maintenance fees out of nowhere, with no prior notice? It’s not just a small amount either. How do you expect me to suddenly afford that…?”

Her voice cracked with frustration, and she quickly stopped herself.

It was pointless to be angry. Being a broke guild master was her own fault, and venting at NPCs meant nothing. 

NPCs—non-player characters, essentially artificial intelligences, were designed to support gameplay. Though they resembled real people, they merely repeated phrases according to the system.

At first, players found NPCs fascinating, but their mechanical, repetitive responses quickly became boring. Some still persistently tried to get them to say or do something unique, but… in the end, an NPC was just that.

Many players even found their robotic behavior somewhat eerie.

“For a place that feels so real, certain parts of it are oddly gamelike… Fine. I’ll cancel.”

In the end, Lydian signed the cancellation form that the NPC handed her.

She had some gold saved, but with no idea what the future held, she couldn’t justify wasting a million gold weekly. Besides, her only guildmate was Hern, so maintaining a hideout at such a cost was unnecessary! With a scowl, Lydian handed over the form.

[The Dawnlight Guild hideout has been dismantled.]

[All items in the shared and private storage rooms will be automatically transferred to the guildmaster’s personal storage within 24 hours.]

Well, at least her items weren’t disappearing entirely. Lydian murmured to herself while glancing at the system message.

If the painstakingly crafted furniture items had vanished, she might’ve grabbed the NPC by the collar in frustration. Glancing one last time at the NPC who kept smiling cheerfully, she turned and sighed, resigned.

“The maintenance fee is a million gold per week? Not even per month? This is excessive. There was no such thing when it was just a game. Are they trying to raise the currency’s value to force us out into the field? Are they trying to get us all killed? At this rate, the theory of some hidden mastermind sounds pretty plausible.”

The current world was implemented to resemble the game system in most aspects, yet unexpected variables kept cropping up, as seen with the potion issue. The guild hideouts were one such anomaly.

Back when it was a game, guild hideouts were provided to all guilds for free. In various locations, players like Lydian were reluctantly terminating contracts due to the sudden maintenance fees.

Most of these players belonged to smaller guilds that lacked financial backing, formed primarily for casual friendships among mid-to-low-level players. Of course, if a guild master was a heavy spender on in-game currency, it wouldn’t have been a problem.

“Ah, Lydian!”

I should’ve bought more gold back then. No, that would be foolish; who knows how long I’ll last here.

As Lydian muttered to herself, her shoulders slumped as she walked down the hallway.

“Lydian!”

At the sound of someone calling her name, Lydian reflexively turned her head and let out a small gasp.

Player Information

Name: Theseus / Guild: Legion  

Level: 77 / Class: Magician / Subclass: Alchemist  

HP: 3050 / MP: 3750  

The man, draped in an elegant, luxurious white cloak, was staring at her in shock. Recognizing his familiar username, Lydian instinctively bowed her head.

“Oh, hello.”

Theseus was a high-ranker within the top 100, but Lydian had briefly partied with him early on, and they exchanged formal greetings whenever they encountered each other in-game. He was known for his friendly demeanor toward everyone. Meeting him in person felt strange, almost like seeing a character come to life.

And surprisingly, Theseus was more handsome than she had imagined—and around her age.

“Wow, unbelievable. Lydian, you’re a woman?”

Theseus seemed visibly taken aback.

He had only looked at her because he was curious about the back view of someone wearing one of the few rare cash items—the “Holy Cleric’s Robe.” He hadn’t expected to see a familiar username, let alone a woman when he’d assumed she was a man. Naturally, his jaw dropped.

At his reaction, Lydian laughed awkwardly.

“Yes… It seems that way, doesn’t it?”

“Wow, that’s wild. Everyone thought you were some older man.”

Theseus giggled, almost childishly, just like Hern had reacted previously.

Lydian’s eyebrow twitched. Though she was smiling, she was hardly amused.

‘An old man…!’

Oblivious, Theseus continued chattering excitedly.

“I already figured out there were more female players than I thought because of recent events, but I never would’ve guessed you too…”

“Is it really that shocking?”

“Well, I’m kidding, kind of. It’s just, you didn’t talk much, and your outfit was always… unique.”

“…You’re dissing me, aren’t you?”

“Oh, not at all.”

Though he laughed it off as a joke, Theseus snuck glances at her.

She wasn’t strikingly beautiful, but the contrast with his previous image of her as a gruff older man made her appear very pretty in his eyes.

‘Isn’t this what they call a ‘gap difference’?’

Theseus chuckled.

“Um, so, have you been helping newcomers all this time?”

“Ah, yes… Up until I got here, anyway. But honestly, most of them quit pretty quickly, so I was getting a bit worn out.”

“Right, that’s normal. Still, it’s impressive. You know you were called Father Teresa because of that, right? Saving all those hopeless newbies. Guess it’s Mother Teresa now.”

Theseus’s playful tone made Lydian narrow her eyes. Sensing her irritation, he cleared his throat with a nervous laugh.

“Anyway, it’s nice to see a familiar face in this mess. We’re about the same age too. Let’s be friends… Oh, let’s re-add each other.”

Theseus quickly tapped the air in front of him. Lydian tilted her head in confusion.

Add friends? Aren’t we already friends?

Seeing her blank expression, Theseus tilted his head, then his eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, you didn’t know? With the transition here, some players’ friend lists were wiped, probably a bug. You should check yours. People have been reuniting in the plaza lately, like it’s a family reunion.”

[Friend request from Theseus received. Accept / Decline]

This was news to Lydian. She didn’t regularly check her friends list and rarely initiated conversations, so she hadn’t noticed.

Since Hern hadn’t mentioned anything, his list was likely unaffected. Besides, they communicated through the guild system, so she’d had no reason to notice any issues.

Lydian accepted Theseus’s request and checked her friend list, just in case.

[Friend List: Total 1 Friend]

[Theseus (77) / Legion / Affinity: 15]

Only Theseus, whom she had just accepted, remained. Lydian felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her previously double-digit friend list was now reduced to nothing.

‘Ah, Pepe…’

The thought of a close friend she’d most wanted to talk to while playing Nord World drifted before her eyes.

It would be hard enough to find someone lost in this chaos. Should she stand in the plaza and call, “Pepe!”? Lydian let out a heavy sigh.

“Oh no, yours got wiped too, huh?”

“Yes… Thanks to you, I found out. Better late than never.”

“Oh, no problem. Anyway, it’s such a coincidence….”

Theseus trailed off mid-sentence. He seemed to be tapping at the air again, as if responding to a personal notification. Lydian smirked, looking away politely. Judging by his reaction, it was likely a guild alert, and Theseus let out a weary sigh.

“Ah, my guild’s calling me. I have to go, but I’ll message you later. It was nice seeing you!”

Lydian waved awkwardly as he smiled and dashed off.

Even though it wasn’t particularly hot, a bead of sweat ran down the back of her ear. He wasn’t a bad person, but she had a sinking feeling he might turn out to be a bit of a handful.