Floating Islands: SSS Gacha Lord

[Your Subordinate has killed Lava Hound Lv. 45]

[You received 181 Exp]

[Exp: 2,505/9,003]

[You have obtained Molten Fang Lv. 45]

Edrik, Karian, and Morganna were locked in fierce combat, battling lava-coated hounds and massive, fire-spewing beetles. 

At the same time, Lyrassa hovered slightly behind them, the vines and flowers she had summoned weaving a protective web around the fighters. Thanks to her natural shield, the team moved more confidently across the unforgiving volcanic terrain, where even a simple misstep could cost a limb.

Meanwhile, Atlas reclined comfortably atop his floating throne, eyes following the constant stream of notifications in his display. Each defeated Lv 45 monster granted 181 Exp, divided among the five of them as they fought together as one.

At his current level, confronting a magma-dripping Lava Hound directly would mean certain doom. He'd be nothing more than charred meat in seconds. But with his skilled subordinates handling the heat and chaos, he was free to watch, and reap the rewards.

Exp flowed steadily into his pool, and the occasional unique drop, like the Molten Fang, found its way into his inventory.

[You have obtained Lava Hound's Claw Gauntlets Lv. 45]

Atlas's gaze swept over the battlefield, quickly picking out Edrik amid the chaos. He was fighting bare-handed, his kicks sharp and precise, landing cleanly around Karian's heavy swings to finish off weakened enemies.

"Edrik, can you wield gauntlets?" Atlas called out from above.

"My Lord, I'm best with daggers, but gauntlets will work just fine!" 

Without hesitation, Atlas summoned the gauntlets from his inventory and hurled them downward. Edrik caught them midair, sliding them on with practiced ease as he ducked under another sweeping attack.

Fire-element gear wasn't ideal for fighting flame-infused beasts, but it was still better than letting Edrik's boots melt off from the heat of the terrain.

Just then, a notification popped into Atlas's interface:

[You have obtained Flaming Collar (Neckpiece) Lv. 53]

[Grants the wearer increased fire resistance and adds minor fire damage to melee attacks.]

Atlas smirked at the sight.

He briefly considered who among his team might need the item the most, his eyes drifting to Morganna slashing through beetles, and Karian holding the line with brute force. But after a short pause, he slipped the collar around his own neck.

A surge of energy pulsed through him, and the suffocating heat that had been prickling his skin vanished almost instantly.

He leaned back on his throne with a content sigh.

Now that was better.

[You have obtained Molten Mandible Dagger Lv. 57] 

And then, perfect. A dagger, just what Edrik needed.

Atlas tried to follow the clash below, but the haze of heat and smoke blurred the action. He rose from the throne and stepped over to where Lyrassa sat, her legs swinging lazily over the edge of the floating platform.

"My Lord…" Lyrassa spoke gently. "It would be wiser for you to remain seated upon your throne."

Atlas offered her a faint smile. "You know, I won't always have the luxury of sitting up here in comfort, right? Give me a little more time, and I'll be down there, fighting alongside them."

Then, raising his voice, he called out, "Edrik!"

With a swift flick, Atlas tossed the newly acquired dagger toward Edrik below. He caught it without missing a beat, immediately sidestepping a lunging Lava Hound. His body shifted smoothly, his stance adjusting in an instant as he slipped into a killing rhythm.

[Your Subordinate has killed Lava Beetle Lv. 55]

[You received 444 Exp]

[You have level up]

[Level 36]

[Exp: 69/13,505]

"It's been ages since I last leveled up."

Finally, it happened, he had gained a level. And this time, he'd done nothing but sit back and monitor the constant stream of notifications flickering across his vision.

Reaching level 35 had been a brutal, uphill battle, especially for someone once labeled a "trash" awakener. 

[Name: Atlas Blackthorn]

[Level: 36]

[Strength: 150 | Agility: 54 | Intelligence: 39 | Constitution: 58 | Stamina: 65]

[Available Stat Points: 10]

[Job: The Lord]

[Class: Warrior]

[Iron Will (B) - Tactical Awareness (C) - Instinctual Command (C) - Measured Strikes (F) - Unbreakable Routine (S) - Reliable Aura (A)]

[Iron Will: Possesses a tenacity that prevents mental or emotional breakdowns.]

[Tactical Awareness: Gains an instinctual understanding of battlefield layouts, enemy positions, and escape routes.]

[Instinctual Command] Exhibits a natural tendency to be followed during high-pressure situations.]

[Measured Strikes: A knack for timing and spacing with a spear.]

[Unbreakable Routine: Sticks rigidly to habits and schedules.]

[Reliable Aura: Emits a presence that fosters trust, leading others to feel confident in offering their reliance.]

Atlas sighed as he scanned his status screen. His only combat-related talent, Measured Strikes, was rated an abysmal F, essentially useless. It was as if he didn't have any spear aptitude at all.

He took a deep breath and resolved once more. He would improve everything, his talent levels, his skillset, his weapon mastery, every aspect of himself.

Though he was officially classified as a Warrior, he reminded himself that this was just one of the seven basic archetypes available to most people.

[Warrior: General melee combat]

[Archer: Ranged physical attacks]

[Mage: Basic spellcasting]

[Thief: Stealth and agility-based combat]

[Healer: Support focused on recovery]

[Knight: Defensive or tank variant of the Warrior]

[Fighter: Balanced melee with raw physical prowess, often without specialized armor or weapons]

But there was no need to worry. Once he reached level 50, he'd unlock his first class-advancement quest. He was determined to be fully prepared, eager to upgrade into something far more powerful. With all the resources he now controlled, his ambitions felt well within reach.

Lost in thought, he suddenly felt a soft touch on his left hand. It wasn't painful, just a gentle warmth that startled him into awareness.

He turned to see Lyrassa gazing at him. Her expression was calm, serene, enough to still the storm of his racing thoughts.

"My Lord…," she murmured softly.

"Lyrassa?" he replied.

"I sense unease and burdens within you."

"S-sense?"

She nodded slowly.

"You can feel that?"

Lyrassa's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I feel the weight of your mind. Your constant planning, the worries about what may come. You're someone who always looks ahead. Someone responsible… My Lord."

"Am I really like that?"

Lyrassa lifted her right hand toward his face. Atlas tensed, unprepared for such intimate calmness. When her fingers brushed his cheek, a soothing warmth washed over him. He felt tension he hadn't even noticed begin to loosen.

"My Lord," she whispered, "you don't have to carry this alone. You can share your burdens with us." Her hand lingered softly against his skin.

Was it because everything here had happened so fast? Perhaps his mind simply hadn't registered it all yet.

"Let me help ease your thoughts… may I?" she whispered.

Her sweet floral scent filled the air. Atlas sank into the moment, caught by the sincerity in her voice.

He managed a soft smile. "Please… guide me."