Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons-Chapter 305: Fateless!

The veterans who knew him from before exchanged wide-eyed glances. They knew what was coming.

"Those who've known me longest know I was famous for one thing and one thing only."

Arthur paused, letting anticipation build to a breaking point.

"Powerful. Items."

A collective intake of breath swept through the plaza.

"For every player here—every single one—I will be giving a rare item of your choice." Arthur's words fell like thunderbolts. "Items to protect you in the forest. Items to help you level faster. Items to change your life and the lives of those around you."

The crowd exploded. Players shouted, embraced, and some fell to their knees. Rare items were treasures few had ever possessed—game-changing equipment that could mean the difference between life and death.

Near the village gates, the departing sceptics froze mid-step as word reached them.

"Did he say rare items? For everyone?"

"He can't be serious. Nobody has that many—"

"The Merchant Prince," whispered another, face paling. "That's what they called him before. Remember the stories?"

They turned back toward the plaza, but it was too late. Guards had already closed the inner circle.

Inside, Arthur descended from the platform, moving among the players. He clasped shoulders, gripped hands, looked into eyes filled with gratitude and determination.

"This isn't charity," he told them, his voice carrying just far enough. "This is investment. In you. In our future."

A young healer approached, trembling with emotion. "Why? Why give us so much?"

Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder. "Because the path ahead is hard, and you've chosen to walk it anyway."

His gaze lifted, taking in the gathered players—now his army in all but name.

Outside the circle, the skeptics pressed against barriers, trying to rejoin what they'd abandoned. Their protests fell on deaf ears.

"You had your chance," a guard told them flatly. "You made your choice."

Arthur caught the exchange from the corner of his eye. The skeptics pressed against the forming barrier, regret etched across their faces as they watched rare items materialise within the circle.

He moved through the crowd with fluid grace, players stepping aside reverently to clear his path. When he reached the perimeter, he placed a hand on the guard's shoulder.

"Let them through."

The guard blinked in surprise. "But sir, they—"

"Let them through," Arthur repeated, his voice gentle yet leaving no room for argument.

Murmurs rippled through the nearest players. Some exchanged displeased glances, their expressions clearly conveying what they thought—that these latecomers deserved nothing.

Arthur turned to address the gathering, his face serene beneath the fading afternoon light.

"I see your thoughts," he called out, silencing the whispers. "I hear your concerns."

He gestured toward the returning sceptics, who stood uncertainly at the perimeter's edge.

"These players made a choice based on incomplete information. Based on doubt that, in their position, many of us might have shared." His smile held no condemnation. "How many here hesitated, even for a moment, before committing?"

Sheepish glances exchanged throughout the crowd confirmed his words.

"I'm not here to condemn caution or belittle scepticism." Arthur's voice carried across the plaza. "Those are natural responses to extraordinary claims."

The barrier dissolved.

The skeptics stepped forward tentatively, eyes downcast, expecting judgment.

"If you believe in our cause and wish to join us now, I welcome you." Arthur extended his hand toward them in a gesture of inclusion. "Your initial doubt doesn't diminish your worth."

Relief washed across the latecomers' faces. One dropped to a knee in gratitude.

Arthur raised his hand, halting the gesture. "Stand. We're equals here."

His eyes swept across both groups—the loyal who'd stayed and the doubtful who'd returned.

"But understand this: choices have consequences, even when those consequences aren't punishments."

Arthur moved to a nearby supply crate where his lieutenants distributed equipment.

"Those who believed from the beginning will receive rare items as promised." He lifted a gleaming sword, its edge pulsing with enchanted fire. "Their faith carries its own reward."

Players who'd never left nodded in satisfaction, vindicated.

"For those who left but now return," Arthur continued, setting down the fiery blade and lifting instead a solid, well-crafted weapon with a subtle blue glow, "I offer uncommon items. Excellent equipment that will serve you well."

He presented the blade to the nearest sceptic, who accepted it with wide eyes. Even an uncommon item wasn't bad.

Although it wasn't anything ground breaking.

"This isn't punishment," Arthur clarified, his voice carrying to every corner of the plaza. "It's simply the natural outcome of different choices."

His gaze intensified as he addressed the latecomers directly.

"Prove yourselves. Show your commitment through action. When you do—" he gestured to the rare items being distributed to the faithful, "—these too will be yours."

Several of the returned skeptics straightened, determination replacing shame.

"Second chances exist," Arthur said, loud enough for all to hear. "But they must be earned, not merely claimed."

A young mage who'd initially left stepped forward. "I'll earn it," she declared. "I'll prove my worth."

Others among the latecomers nodded, echoing her sentiment.

Arthur smiled—warm, genuine.

"That's all I ask. That's all any of us can ask." He looked across the gathered players. "We face threats that don't discriminate between the faithful and the doubting. When monsters pour through the merge, they'll come for us all equally."

His voice dropped, compelling them to lean closer.

"So we must rise above our differences. Forge something stronger than individual conviction." Arthur raised his hand, clenched it into a fist. "Together, we'll build a foundation that can withstand what's coming."

The crowd responded with a cheer that seemed to shake the very ground.

Throughout the village, other players abandoned what they were doing, drawn by the sound. They approached the plaza, curious, uncertain, wanting to be part of whatever generated such unified purpose.

"More coming, sir. Word's spreading fast."

Good. Let them come. Let them all come.

"Prepare additional supplies," Arthur instructed.

"Everyone joins today. Everyone fights today. We will all level up and gain strength to withstand the threats coming for us!"

The players all chanted one thing.

"Fateless!"

"Fateless!"