Chapter 1

Medieval Fantasy.

A world brimming with stereotypes: dwarves wielding hammers, elves with bows, barbarians baring their chests.

I adore games steeped in such prejudice.

Because it is within these games laden with preconceptions that my hipster instincts truly shine.

An orc strength-mage hailing from the wandering tribes, a heavily armored tank-archer originating as a minstrel, a non-violent, vegan barbarian…!

I find joy in sculpting builds that, at first glance, elicit the reaction, “Why would anyone build *that*?” And in witnessing these builds carve out their own unique strengths.

The thrill of a strength-mage swinging a long staff to brutally shatter fortress walls. The electrifying rush as an archer intercepts an enemy barbarian’s axe head-on, drawing the bowstring taut. The emotional surge of preventing a war with nothing but the magnificent oration of a pacifist, vegan barbarian…!

I’m not sure how I, of all people, ended up this way, but when playing games, I simply cannot immerse myself without embracing near-absurd concepts and pointless endeavors.

Perhaps it’s because, in reality, I’m the kind of person who took on the build of dropping out of high school to pursue music – a near-broken build in itself.

…Let’s not dwell on that; it only sours the mood.

Click.

[Fist]

Orc / Mage.

LV 99.

[Zombie]

Dwarf / Archer.

LV 99.

[President]

Dwarf / Barbarian.

LV 99.

My darlings, born of love, devotion, and ceaseless study – children I wouldn’t trade for the world – greet me from the character selection screen.

‘Fists,’ my beloved, clutches in his hand the ultimate mage artifact, tripling the power of any magic he might cast. But he’s never once used magic to strike down an enemy.

Because I poured all his stat points into strength, leaving him with a magic score so pitiful he couldn’t even learn a single spell.

‘Fists’ may be a mage who can’t use magic, a shortcoming, to be sure. But that small flaw is dwarfed by his truly exceptional virtue.

He simply refuses to die.

Acquiring passive spells that boost a mage’s survivability, like [Arcane Shield], doesn’t require any magic stat whatsoever.

What’s more, the passive spell, ‘Grace of the Spirit,’ is only obtainable through a special in-game event. Yet it also demands no magic stat, while boasting formidable defensive capabilities.

Couple that with the fact that ‘Fists’ couldn’t learn magic to begin with due to his low magic stat, and you’re free to invest every spare skill point earned through leveling into enhancing his survivability!

Didn’t I just call his inability to learn magic a shortcoming? Well, sometimes a flaw can be a strength, no?

Like how a bad boy’s charm *is* that he’s a bad boy, and his weakness, too.

In any case, whenever I create a character, I focus on crafting a build that’s as original as possible, one that maximizes efficiency through its unique attributes. I pour everything into ensuring the build endures.

And maintaining that balance – that sweet spot where the build is “strangely useful while also being delightfully janky” – demands incredibly meticulous research.

As someone once said, the more bitter the suffering, the sweeter the fruit.

Seeing my children, born from such research and experimentation, thrive in a world full of prejudice is my greatest joy these days.

A joy that those who simply follow the ‘efficient’ builds made by others, leveling generic human mages or orcish barbarians, will never know.

“Hoo… let’s go.”

And today, I will conjure up once more the kind of raw emotion that ‘Fists,’ ‘Zombie,’ and ‘President’ gifted me.

Because the build for my proud fourth son is finally complete.

He is known as ‘One-Punch Mage.’

It was the result of erasing, creating, and testing dozens, hundreds of characters over the past four months. Countless builds had come and gone, but among them, only one felt truly perfect.

[Distribute the character’s stats.]

I moved the mouse without hesitation, allocating the character’s stats. There wasn’t a flicker of doubt in my hand.

Strength: 1

Agility: 1

Vitality: 1

Magic Power: 20

Luck: 1

Looking at this stat sheet, most gamers would probably throw out a line or two.

“Hey, is this character even going to *work*?” they’d likely say.

For a character’s survival, it was necessary to invest in at least a minimal amount of Vitality. And, to avoid disadvantages in the various choices and character dialogues within the game, a bit of Luck was also needed.

So, the standard mage build would lower the Magic Power stat by around 7 points and distribute the remaining points between Luck and Vitality according to taste…

But my one-shot mage build didn’t need any of that.

What’s with Vitality and Luck? So unromantic.

I’d tested it hundreds of times. It works just fine without it.

[Select Class]

In the class selection window that appeared after distributing the stats, I unhesitatingly chose Mage.

To put 20 points into Magic Power and then select Barbarian here isn’t just a meme build; it’s straight-up trolling.

The past 4000 hours I’ve poured into this game wouldn’t forgive such a shallow and idiotic act.

[You have selected Mage. Please select the type of magic to use.]

In this game, a wizard character can limit the type of magic they wield during creation.

Setting it so that all five types – fire, wind, water, earth, and lightning – can be learned allows one to adapt easily to various situations, but in exchange, the power of individual spells weakens.

Conversely, if one sets it to learn only one type of magic, like fire or wind, they could raise a pillar of fire or conjure a storm of incomparable might compared to a wizard who learned all five.

Therefore, weighing the versatility of magic against its raw power is another fascinating aspect when creating a wizard character… but, having completed all the research, there was nothing more for me to see on this screen.

I quickly set it so that all types of magic except lightning could not be learned.

To reiterate, this character’s concept is “One-Shot Wizard.”

To bring the concept of incinerating everything in a single blow to life, it was necessary to maximize the power of a single type of magic.

There was no hesitation in the subsequent race selection, either.

[Choose a race.]

‣ [Human]

Humans have a harder time getting through the early stages than other races, but their late-game potential is excellent.

I had experimented with choosing Orc for the character’s race to compensate for the frustratingly low health, but… there was an undeniable feeling of stagnation in the late-game progression compared to Humans.

If anyone ever asked me if they wanted to follow this build later…

Well, Orc, which compensates for weak health and strength, is also a decent choice. If you want to easily get through the early stages, I would tell them that choosing Orc here is a viable method.

Of course, I will be choosing Human, though.

[Choose a background.]

[Royalty]

[Nobility]

[Commoner]

[Serf]

[Vagabond]

There was no room for hesitation here. My mouse raced towards the “Vagabond” selection with nary a flicker of doubt.

Born into high standing, one starts with decent gear, but the inherent critical hit chance you’re saddled with is comparatively low.

With my Luck stat pegged at 1, it was a meager 1 percent – a significant penalty when navigating a game that revolves around combat.

However, birth among the lower ranks grants poor equipment and a harsh environment, yet it elevates your critical hit rate. A staggering 20 percent with Luck at 1.

Furthermore, starting the game as a Vagabond bestows the [Composure] trait as a bonus, ensuring you remain level-headed in any situation. A vital trait for mages, vulnerable to various status ailments and physically frail.

It’s no accident that the Rogue class almost always starts as a [Vagabond].

They rely on critical hits for damage, making critical hit chance paramount. Plus, they absolutely require the [Composure] trait to prevent fear-induced stealth skill cancellations from those pesky area-of-effect spells.

[Select the magic to use.]

“…Lock Bolt, lock Lightning Strike, lock Charging Light… lock Arcane Shield too….”

The mouse darted across the screen with unprecedented speed, locking away the various spells in the electrical tree.

Locking magic was effectively the same mechanism as reducing the number of available spells.

Having selected electricity, reducing the number of electric spells available increased the power of those that remained.

I locked all but one of the skills in the lightning skill tree.

[Bloom]

[Consumes all mana within the body, enabling a Transcendental state for 5 minutes. Immediately after use, the character becomes immobilized by a status ailment for a certain duration. Use is limited to once per day.]

Bloom! The quintessential lightning mage spell!

A magic that allows a mage to compress and unleash all the mana within their body in a short five-minute burst.

With enough stored mana, this game’s most overpowered magic has the potential to vaporize even the final boss with a single flick of the wrist.

Of course, this skill isn’t without its drawbacks.

To unleash all my magic, and then suffer a status ailment after the skill’s duration expired… I had to meticulously choose when to use it.

Misjudge the timing, and I might find myself watching my character sprawled out across the battlefield, sound asleep.

Limited to once a day, it felt awkward to use against mere fodder.

…No, actually, it’s easier to just think of it as unusable against them.

That’s why most orthodox mages either didn’t bother learning this skill, or just lightly invested a single level in it as a last-ditch effort.

The orthodox mages, that is.

[Bloom LV40]

I locked away every kind of magic except for lightning. And even that wasn’t enough; I locked away every single spell on the lightning magic tree as well.

Except for one: [Bloom].

As a result of bearing so many demerits, a whopping 120 skill points piled up in my skill window.

I slammed this enormous bounty of skill points into Bloom without a moment’s hesitation, resulting in a grotesque creation where my character level was a mere 1, but the magic level was an absurd 40.

‘…Perfect!’

The ‘One-Shot Mage’ may have the disadvantage of only being able to use a single spell, but in exchange, it possesses the advantage of being able to use one incredibly potent spell.

Most mages select and use a variety of spells to deal with trash mobs. But for my ‘One-Shot Mage,’ such choices are nonexistent! Because those versatile, trivial spells are all in a state of ‘Lockdown’!

All thanks to limiting the usable magic to just [Bloom].

Since I can’t use magic against trash mobs, magic power, for better or worse, will accumulate steadily within my character’s body without the slightest waste.

And the [Bloom] used by a ‘One-Shot Mage’ who has stored up magic power so meticulously in their body will unleash an output that’s incomparable to the [Bloom] used by ordinary mages.

Because the spell [Bloom]’s power scales proportionally with the magic power stored within the mage’s body.

Comparing it to mages who waste their magic power on pointless things like dealing with trash mobs is almost an insult.

Another example of how a disadvantage—the inability to use magic—becomes an advantage.

Here, some might ask, “So how does one deal with the rabble, the mobs that come clawing at your character’s throat? Not being able to use standard spells, I mean.”

Truly, such fodder poses a considerable obstacle for a one-shot mage.

With stats for both constitution and strength nearing absolute zero, one can’t simply wave a staff or wand around like “Fist,” turning them into mush. To add to it, having chosen the lowly [Beggar] origin, it wasn’t an option to entirely delegate combat to high-level mercenaries, the kind [Nobles] get from the start.

… Well, I intend to reveal the solution to such hurdles directly through gameplay. Just watch closely as I compensate for these countless shortcomings and bring forth a magnificent Archmage.

[Please set the character’s name.]

[One Blow]

Surname Han, given name Blow, at your service.

A righteous and pure name, imbued with the powerful will to obliterate anything before him in a single strike…!

It became a deeply Oriental name, somewhat out of place for a medieval fantasy setting, but I didn’t dwell on it.

After all, character nicknames weren’t all that important. The fact that my firstborn was named ‘Fist,’ the second ‘Zombie,’ and the third ‘President’ was proof of that.

Looking at the face of my proud fourth son, a happy smile bloomed on my face as I pressed the start game button.

[Welcome, Han Blow.

In this world, sentient beings suffer at the hands of demons risen from hell, the demonic tribes born from them, and creatures transformed into monsters by their influence.

Your mission is to save those who suffer…]

The moment I hit the start button, the bland and cliché exposition typical of medieval fantasy games began.

[Dwarves, Humans, Orcs and Elves, all momentarily cease their conflicts to form an allied force against the demons…]

The background story, so overdone it was almost admirable in its triteness, flashed by.

[Your help is needed.]

Snap.

Consciousness severed.