I Start with 13 Hidden Traits Chapter-67

Ch-67

—

Just as I gained the Star’s Successor class and my mana transformed into Star power.

It meant that even such variables were taken into account.

*Excellent.*

I couldn’t help but raise a thumb in approval.

Pangaenia was a place filled with countless variables.

A game where the entire point was to overcome those variables.

Naturally, eliminating even one variable was something praiseworthy.

*High Druid’s Great Nature.*

The hidden trait, the druid’s Nature Affinity, had evolved into High Druid’s Great Nature.

It had evolved, yes—yet I still couldn’t quite feel it.

Was it a trait specialized for spirits, or perhaps something else entirely, like how the *Heart of the Eternal Monarch* erased dungeon-entry conditions?

*I’ll have to experience it to know.*

Still, there was something I could check immediately.

*…What skill is this?*

A new skill had appeared.

A skill that showed up after eating the fruit of the World Tree, and its name was:

**<Rapid Growth (Lv.1)>**

…Rapid Growth?

There wasn’t even a proper explanation.

After a moment of thought, I tried using it on my own body.

**<You are not a suitable target for this skill.>**

It appeared this wasn’t meant to be used on a physical body.

Then how about the flower in the pot?

**<‘Miragia’ begins ‘Rapid Growth.’>**

Miragia. A flower frequently grown by nobles in Pangaenia as an ornamental plant. One such bloom sat on the windowsill of this room.

When I used Rapid Growth on it, the skill was successfully activated.

What kind of change would occur?

Would it grow rapidly and then die?

“Hm…?”

It was nothing like I expected.

**CRACK!**

**SCHWING—!**

The flower’s roots began to grow at a mad pace, instantly shattering the pot and then slithering up the windowsill and across the room.

“W-what on earth is—huh?!”

“……!!”

Isaac and Isabella, drawn by the commotion, stepped into the room—only to freeze in shock.

Because the roots, writhing like tentacles, had filled the entire room.

—

—

 

**Beep—**

**Beeeeeep—**

In a sterile isolation ward, a man slowly opened his eyes.

His pupils dilated wide. He immediately tore off the respirator covering his mouth and attempted to sit up.

“Y-young master! You mustn’t get up so suddenly—!”

The caretaker monitoring his condition panicked, and an elderly man hurried in from the situation room connected to the ward.

“Young Master Oliver. You must stay calm. Excitement is harmful for your heart.”

But the man called Oliver paid him no mind.

“A great being is coming. Do you think I can remain calm?”

“…P-pardon? What do you mean by that?”

“Melson. Go to Korea and escort him. Ensure that he can come here comfortably, without a single blemish. That is why *you* must go.”

Melson’s eyes trembled.

He had never once seen Oliver this agitated.

Oliver, who had been frail since birth, who never took interest in anything.

Oliver, who had grown detached from worldly affairs, who found living itself burdensome.

But now he spoke of a *great being*.

*That isn’t something you say about another person…*

…It was practically reverence, as if speaking of a god.

—

—

 

*Phantom. Or rather—Mr. Park Hyun-myung?*

Everyone stared at me, wide-eyed, as if they had just seen something unbelievable.

As I shifted my head slightly—

“U-uh…!”

Isaac’s jaw dropped even further.

Only then did I realize they weren’t looking *at me*—but *behind me*.

I slowly turned around.

*Oh?*

One of the roots was mimicking my movements.

When I moved my hand left, the root moved left.

Move right—same thing.

It copied me for about thirty seconds and then rapidly withered.

“W-what… what was that just now?”

“A new skill I obtained.”

“A… a skill…?”

What kind of skill could produce something that bizarre?

A skill that grew roots and let them move freely.

Not even the High Druid, the Guardian of the Forest, could pull off something so grotesque.

Stroking my chin as I observed the withered root, I came to a conclusion.

“I need to run some experiments.”

—

—

 

Rapid Growth worked far more efficiently on **seeds** than on already-grown plants.

The seeds sprouted quickly, took root, moved for about two minutes, and then shriveled up.

*It could be used as a trap.*

I pondered its applications.

Growing fruit and selling it would help the household finances, but the growth power didn’t last nearly that long.

Its functional range was limited to root growth and manipulation—but that alone made it suitable for traps or restraining ankles.

*If the skill level rises, its versatility will rise too.*

It was only at Level 1.

At Level 10, who knew—maybe it could grow trees as large as the World Tree.

*Like a mage’s Entangle… or for creating obstacles…*

It reminded me of *Entangle*, a skill that produced small roots to snare ankles.

The size could be adjusted, and although it required planting seeds beforehand, as long as I had seeds, I could use it infinitely.

I could also create obstacles, construct makeshift walls, and more.

In preparation for the coming **Abyssal Labyrinth**, this skill seemed extremely useful.

*Seeds worked better than mature plants. Then among seeds, there must be some that act even more efficiently.*

Pursuing absolute efficiency was basically a Korean racial trait.

Me included.

I swept up every seed stored in the lord’s manor and began testing them one by one.

—

—

Melson arrived at Gimpo Airport and slowly looked around.

*Korea. It has developed significantly.*

Long ago, Melson had been to Korea—back when it was still a developing nation.

Compared to that time, everything had changed drastically.

A country once in a constant state of tension due to the Cold War… now had an airport of this scale.

People’s faces carried a sense of ease.

*This is where the person Young Master Oliver spoke of resides.*

Truthfully, Melson still couldn’t fully believe it.

Oliver avoided outsiders to an extreme degree.

He barely interacted with his own family—yet now he was actively seeking to meet someone.

Melson was glad, of course, but he knew nothing about the person Oliver wanted to meet.

All he had was their nationality and their name.

**Mr. Park Hyun-myung.**

Melson stood holding a sign with that name.

Anyone who knew Melson would have been shocked.

But he didn’t care.

He had come discreetly, and no one in Korea would know him anyway.

Most of all—this was his young master’s earnest request. No matter the place, he would gladly fulfill it.

How much time had passed?

“Gracia! Gracia! Please say one word!”

“Are you leaving Korea?”

Suddenly, the outside became noisy.

Surrounded by countless reporters, someone was entering the airport.

Gracia.

The strongest Dimension Warrior residing in Korea—now leaving the country.

He had appeared at the airport, causing a frenzy.

—

—

The moment I arrived at the airport, countless flashes burst and chaos erupted.

*Gracia.*

The source of the noise.

I recognized him instantly.

The media covered him constantly, but beyond that—I instinctively knew.

*Of all days…*

Of all times, it had to be on the day Gracia was departing.

I even thought I spotted Kim Hana among the reporters.

Keeping my hat pulled low, I quietly slipped past.

Just as I recognized him, he might recognize *me*.

After walking for a while, I spotted an elderly man holding a sign with my name.

A neat-looking man with white hair, giving the impression of an English gentleman.

“I’m Park Hyun-myung.”

“May I ask whose invitation you are responding to?”

His Korean was surprisingly fluent.

“Oliver.”

The old man’s face lit up with relief.

“I am Melson, Young Master Oliver’s butler. Please follow me.”

He folded the sign and started walking ahead.

As if there was no time to lose.

But instead of lining up or checking in, he led me straight somewhere.

We entered a building marked **SGBAC**, where the staff all bowed at 90 degrees to Melson in greeting.

But upon noticing me behind him, they blinked in confusion.

“This person is…?”

“He is coming with me.”

“Ah! My apologies. We will expedite the process immediately.”

With a single statement from Melson, their attitude toward me completely changed.

Immigration, quarantine, and customs were processed like a fast-pass. Without any waiting, the entire procedure took less than ten minutes.

Only then did I realize:

This was the *VIP private aviation center*—used for boarding private jets.

A discreet facility where domestic and foreign VIPs moved without drawing attention.

*Hudson didn’t explain anything about this.*

He only mentioned a “wealthy family.” He never said they were rich enough to own private jets.

If I had boarded a first-class flight, I wouldn’t have been this shocked.

But I couldn’t simply stand around being surprised.

*Gracia…*

He was there.

Past the checkpoint, I saw Gracia again.

Of course—he’d flown here by private jet as well.

The problem was his gaze.

He kept looking back and forth between me and Melson.

*Did he recognize me?*

The thought crossed my mind—but the likelihood was low.

Gracia and I had no connection.
I recognized him because he kept inserting himself into the spotlight.

In Korea, there wasn’t a single person who didn’t know his face.

But even then—I couldn’t be certain.

Pangaenia had thousands upon thousands of ways to identify someone.

He might know, through some absurd method, that I was a player—that I was *Randolph*.

Especially since Gracia had been a player far longer than I had.

He could easily know things I didn’t.

*If a fight broke out…*

I imagined the worst.

If he recognized me and combat was unavoidable.

Should Gracia *descend*, I couldn’t win.

But if Hudson was right and players’ physical bodies in reality were no different from ordinary humans, then a surprise attack might work.

…No.

No, it wouldn’t.

The Goddess’s privilege.

He would have the same *Barrier of Protection* I had.

Reaching top ranks in Main Quest 3 granted the barrier, and Gracia had been ranked 1st.

He had only been bumped to 2nd because of me—but he still possessed a Level 9 Barrier of Protection.

*The barrier protects the body at the place one logs out.*

But this was logged-in reality.

Meaning the barrier wouldn’t activate.

Even so—I dismissed that thought.

*He must have far more privileges than I do.*

Surely, he possessed a privilege similar to the barrier.

There was no way he didn’t.

If it stalled time long enough for him to descend…

I didn’t need to imagine what would happen next.

*His stare is getting annoying.*

Until the moment he boarded his private jet—right next to ours—Gracia stared at me and Melson the entire time.

Even as the cabin door closed.

—

—

There was nothing more to gain from Korea.

Gracia reached his final conclusion.

He had failed to find the owner of the Hydragon Soul, the material needed to forge a Unique-grade sword, and failed again when the Dimensional Rift opened.

At the time, he had been in Korea, not the U.S., and public opinion in America was terrible.

*I must prepare for the Abyssal Labyrinth.*

He gave up his lingering attachments.

The Abyssal Labyrinth mattered far more.

To conquer it, he needed to return home and entrust his body to someone he trusted completely.

Because logging out caused all progress to reset.

*An absolutely secure, secret place.*

He trusted no one.

He needed someone who could hide him entirely.

The other Eight Heroes?

He couldn’t trust them either.

They might send assassins—to meddle or to kill.

His privileges would block most attacks, but not indefinitely.

If he were forced to log out due to an external attack, the labyrinth would reset.

*Perhaps I can acquire the Hydragon Soul inside the labyrinth itself.*

Even with all these terrible conditions, there was a reason he had no choice but to attempt it.

The **Labyrinth Merchant**.

Rumors said that when it appeared, all entrants were notified of its location.

It supposedly sold limited supplies of items such as souls—and other impossibly rare materials.

And above all—

*Sword Saint Riley.*

One who followed the same lineage as him.

*Riley will die by my hand.*

A Sword Saint could exist only one per era.

Two could never coexist.

Even if the other was the ruler of the labyrinth, Gracia would never tolerate someone else using the name “Sword Saint.”

He would kill Riley—and proclaim to the world that he was the true Sword Saint.

He would sink the Sword Saints of old into the deepest layers of the abyss.

—

 

 

 

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