Chapter 113: MVP Victory Screen JPG (13)

Beneath the blood moon.

A white-haired youth with a melancholy gaze stood alone atop the tower, gazing up at the resplendent river of stars.

The evening breeze swept past, tousling his hair and rustling the pages of his handbook…

Even without knowing the astonishing developments unfolding in the dungeon, the scene alone was enough to make one stop and stare.

But…

The Jester God, who had no sense of romance, suddenly spoke up: 【"I get the feeling you're actually quite enjoying this process."】

【"First you set the trap, then you write poetry like some bard while they fall into it… Do you think you're being elegant right now?"】

"Shh—keep it down."

Herbert gave a slight shake of his head, carefully preserving his carefully arranged pose, and replied inwardly in a tone steeped in wounded sentiment:

"Listen—the wind tonight is unusually restless, as if grieving the departure of those pitiable souls."

Nie Nasha:???

What nonsense is this?

What is he even doing?

【"You…"】

Nie Nasha was taken aback by Herbert's bizarre tone, and after hesitating for quite a while, she continued to ask: 【"I mean, standing here in the middle of the night letting the sea breeze blow on you—aren't you cold?"】

"Sigh."

Herbert shook his head helplessly and complained: "Can't you just let me have a moment of peace? You're really clingy, you know that…"

Acting as if you can't wait to stick to me every second of the day, wanting to live inside my head—oh wait, she already does.

Forget it, with the Jester God around, it's all pointless.

Literary?

Heh, not literary in the slightest…

【"Hah!"】

The Jester God scoffed coldly, having long seen through Herbert's little scheme, and roasted: 【"You're clearly the one who can't stand anymore, yet you have to blame me for disturbing you."】

You think I don't know half your leg has gone numb?

Still putting on an act!

"By the way, to be more precise, what I'm feeling right now is a land breeze."

Herbert helpfully corrected her, finally unable to maintain his "MVP Victory Screen" pose. He shifted his legs, stretched his waist vigorously under the moonlight, and said lazily:

"But I'm not cold, after all—I'm now a powerful, high~~~-tier powerhouse myself!"

After both his physical body and holy power advanced to the high tier, Herbert's strength had fully stabilized at the high-tier level, no longer failing due to a frail physique.

The world's classification of strength wasn't complicated—relatively easy to understand.

It could be roughly divided into six stages: Initial, Mid, High, Legendary, Epic, and Saint.

Herbert hadn't been interested in these things back in Wang Cheng, so beyond the most basic knowledge, he had no real grasp of them.

But after discussing with others over this period, combined with what he'd heard in earlier years, Herbert had pieced together a general picture.

Let's use ordinary humans as an example.

Logically speaking, a simply trained adult human was by no means weak—in most situations, they could trade injuries with small to medium beasts and come out on top.

As long as they gave up the insistence on taking no damage at all, the terrifying upright ape could unleash considerable force.

But even so, this level of strength couldn't be compared to that of a true professional.

Even a professional who had just advanced to 【Initial】 tier could, thanks to their boosted attributes, easily beat up several grown adults.

Representative Initial-tier professionals included trained militia, adventurers just starting out, squires…

Their opponents lurked at the wilderness's outer edges, requiring them to band together to fight weaker magical beasts.

Once one's strength stepped into 【Mid】 tier, a professional's power would once again see a significant boost.

Seasoned in slaughter, they could use their maturing combat skills to push deeper into the wilderness, or team up to clear caves and abandoned dungeons harboring treasure and monsters.

Due to limitations in talent and resources, Mid-tier was where the vast majority of professionals remained—the most populous tier of all.

At this stage, their opponents shifted from small fry like goblins, kobolds, and slimes to genuinely dangerous monsters such as half-orc warriors and gnoll hunters.

Once one's strength reached 【High】 tier, they would fully possess the experience and ability to walk the wilderness alone and handle various crises with ease.

These somewhat renowned professionals would each choose their own path.

Some would continue to temper themselves in the wilderness, hoping to break through once more and one day step into the Legendary realm.

Others would leave the wilderness behind, enter the city-states, and choose to serve as noble bodyguards, earning their living with their strength—including some kingdom guard captains who were exactly such figures.

Once one truly reached the 【Legendary】 tier, their strength would undergo a qualitative leap, marking their formal entry into the realm of the powerful.

For Legendary powerhouses, feats like breaking an army alone or taking on a hundred foes single-handedly were no great difficulty—there were many ways to accomplish them.

Wherever they went, Legendary powerhouses would be upper echelons of any organization—dangerous figures requiring special treatment.

As for 【Epic】 powerhouses above that, they could truly be said to have stepped into an entirely different tier—they had already begun to dabble in the domain of the gods.

Epic powerhouses could accomplish feats like taking a city alone or destroying a nation single-handedly, and could even work miracles that affected nature itself. They would be treated by all as strategic-level weapons.

Incidentally, Epic powerhouses also had another honorific within the Church of the Gods—one tinged with reverence and special meaning: Demigod.

For the vast majority of mortals, a Demigod was already equivalent to an incarnation of the divine in the mortal world.

As for the 【Saint】 tier above that…

Powerhouses of this level almost never existed in the mortal world—immensely powerful yet their traces remain mysterious.

The kind of mythical figures who only existed in legends, appearing at moments of peril to rescue the protagonists from fire and water.

As for why the word "almost" was used… it was because Herbert had personally witnessed one not long ago.

Not nearly as divine, not nearly as unattainable as the myths made them out to be.

He was basically an old bastard who'd spent half a day beating around the bush with elaborate setup, just to silently show off in front of him at the very end.

Furthermore, according to Nie Nasha, the upper limit of Saints was extremely high, and the gap between individuals was enormous.

The gap between two Saints might even be greater than the gap between a mortal and a Saint!

A weaker Saint might be only slightly stronger than a Demigod, while an ordinary Saint already possessed the qualification to defy the gods.

As for how strong the strongest Saint actually was, Herbert had no way of knowing — the disparity in power was too exaggerated, reaching a point where even hearing a description wouldn't allow one to comprehend it.

Still, Herbert asked again and again, and finally got a subtle description from his intimate ally — a god.

No modifiers like "comparable to," "on par with," or "as if."

Just a god!

So then the question arises: which tier does the Archbishop belong to among Saints?

While Herbert was speculating about the old bastard's strength, Nie Nasha let out a teasing laugh: 【"Oh my! By your logic, you're a strooong one too now, aren't you?"】

"Why wouldn't that count?"

Herbert, however, was quite calm about it, not finding anything wrong with his own statement.

【"Really? After seeing the state those legends died in, you still think this little high-ranking Holy Knight of yours is a strong one?"】

And Herbert's answer to this remained firm.

"Of course."

Thanks to Pat and Counterclockwise Anomaly for the tips

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(End of chapter)