Divine Glitch: I Regressed With Endgame Knowledge

The Yalta Expeditionary Force was a vibrant tapestry of races: humans, dwarves, elves, even minotaurs and the undead marched among its ranks.

These diverse warriors had once been victims of the insidious Twilight Cult, but now they rallied beneath the banner of the Radiant Light. The alliance had grown into a power that embraced nearly every race known across the land, and even a few rarely seen beyond hidden valleys and half-forgotten ruins. Each had offered up their share of soldiers, priests, or mages to strengthen the Expeditionary Force.

Within the First Light encampment, the holy blessing was palpable. A Paladin resting there found not only their stamina replenished at twice the normal rate, but also their health and mana subtly fortified, as though wrapped in an invisible shield. The moment they left the camp's sanctified aura, however, that protective embrace faded.

The Expeditionary Force never drowned its champions in endless errands, but every quest offered generous rewards. For a Paladin, the spoils were even greater: ten percent more reputation than any other class could hope to earn. Coupled with the innate gifts of humanity, Ryan found himself gathering talent points at a rate twenty percent higher than most of his peers.

Assignments were rarely grueling. Most were simple, quickly finished, and rewarding enough that First Light had become a haven for adventurers. Even those who hated questing often found themselves clearing the board simply because the rewards flowed so easily.

Ryan, efficient as ever, swept through all sixty quests in under two hours. His reputation soared to a comfortable "Friendly" status.

He was already considering his next move—packing up for the Giant Insect Nest—when something unexpected flickered on his minimap. A new quest marker.

Ryan froze mid-stride, his pulse quickening. A new quest could mean treasure, or it could mean trouble.

Following the faint glow, he tracked down the quest giver. And then he stopped short.

It was an undead. Not the sanctified kind touched by Radiant Light, whose corrupted forms had been remade into something almost elemental. No, this was different. This one was raw, unblessed, and unmistakably undead—yet alive in some disconcerting way.

Ryan glanced around. Expeditionary soldiers marched past in formation, their gazes locked forward, their discipline unbroken. None of them even twitched in acknowledgment of the creature. To them, it was as though the undead simply did not exist.

A prickle of unease crept up Ryan's spine. Could this be one of those infamous "scam" quests? The kind whispered about in taverns and gaming forums—legends of players lured into bizarre, out-of-place tasks that yielded nothing but wasted effort?

The stories said such quests gave no reward, sometimes even inflicted penalties. A colossal waste of time and resources, the kind of cruel trick only the game's creators could dream up. No one Ryan trusted had ever confirmed such a thing firsthand. Supposedly they were rarer than unique quests, more myth than reality.

And yet here he stood, in First Light of all places—a camp steeped in holy radiance—face to face with an unblessed undead ignored by everyone else. The puzzle pieces fell into place, and the picture they painted was not reassuring.

Ryan hesitated only a moment longer before curiosity tipped the scale.

He accepted the quest.

"Are you kidding me?" he muttered under his breath. "No one's ever proved these so-called 'scam' quests exist. If I really just stumbled into one, could I live with myself for walking away?"

Besides, his level was far above most players in the region. A little detour would hardly set him back. And if the legends were true, the worst he risked was a bit of wasted time—an inconvenience, nothing more.

—

[Lost Radiance: Young Paladin, would you lend an ear to a poor undead's sorrowful tale?

Quest Objective: Speak with the undead before you 0/1

Quest Reward: Experience 200]

—

Ryan hesitated, then, with the calm efficiency of habit, opened his in-game forums, pulled up a blank notepad, and only then initiated conversation with the strange NPC.

The figure bore no name, only the stark label Undead. It was common knowledge that once an NPC shared its story, a true name often revealed itself.

Though this was just dialogue, Ryan approached it with the same diligence as a scholar studying ancient texts. Hidden clues, subtle hints, and vital details could be buried anywhere in a quest chain. Missing a single line could spell failure.

The conversation stretched on. The undead spoke in halting tones, each word carried a weight of sorrow. Ryan transcribed everything, line after line, his notepad quickly filling with over ten minutes' worth of dialogue.

Finally, the spectral figure fell silent. A new quest prompt appeared before Ryan's eyes. Then, as if drained of existence itself, the undead froze, its faint presence dissolving into nothing

—

[Lost Radiance: Paladin, I entrust this to you. My soul has been torn apart, abandoned by the Radiant Light. Once I was a favored child of the Light, and now I linger as this grotesque shadow.

Go forth and strike down Dimia. Only then may my sin be redeemed.

Quest Objective: Slay Dimia 0/1

Quest Reward: Unknown]

—

Only when it was clear no further dialogue could be coaxed from the inert NPC did Ryan let out a long, measured breath. He turned his attention to the detailed notes he had captured.

The story unfolded like a tragedy. The undead's true name was Malga. In life, he had been a high-ranking officer of the Yalta Expeditionary Force, chosen by the Radiant Light itself for greatness. From his earliest days, his destiny had shone brightly enough to draw the enmity of the Twilight Cult.

During a mission to rescue a village under siege, Malga was ambushed. He would have perished there if not for the sudden intervention of a young woman. She guided him to safety, protecting him from the cult's relentless pursuit.

From that escape, a quiet bond had formed between the officer and his mysterious rescuer, Dimia—the very name now marked in Ryan's quest log.

But fate twisted cruelly. One day, Dimia called Malga to a secret meeting. There, the Twilight Cult struck again. In the chaos, Malga threw himself between Dimia and the assassins' blades, sacrificing his life for hers.

Yet Malga was not truly lost. The Radiant Light that had chosen him from birth did not allow him to fade. He returned as something new, a Holy Spirit—an undead sanctified by the Light. His comrades welcomed him back, his strange rebirth accepted as a blessing rather than a curse.

It should have been a miracle. But soon came a report from the front lines: Dimia, dressed in the garb of the Twilight Cult, leading monstrous beasts in the slaughter of an entire village.

The revelation broke him. Dimia had been no savior, but an infiltrator, her every gesture of kindness part of a cruel design. She had been sent to entrap him, to turn his faith into his downfall.

The truth hollowed Malga. The Light that had always burned within him receded, leaving only emptiness. Now, bereft of faith, he wandered in despair, clinging to one final plea.

He begged Ryan to finish what he could not: to hunt down Dimia and erase the shadow she had cast upon his soul.