Beautiful music flowed on and on; in the banquet hall, the zither’s melody, murmuring like water, warbled its praise of love’s delights. Such decadent music was the proper fare of high nobility; however outstanding the performers, they were not what these great lords and ladies cared to watch. Raising opulent, crystal-clear goblets, most of the gazes lingered, however faintly, on the center of the banquet.
Count Wolfe.
He was the true master of this banquet.
The performance changed.
The lilting melody shifted abruptly; a grander, more solemn movement rang through the hall, and even the most unrestrained of nobles had no choice but to pause their conversations and turn toward the source of the music.
A sacred hymn.
Sacred, resplendent movements were always tinged with the Church’s teachings. Admit it or not, the Rosa Kingdom… no, the royal houses of every nation, for the most part held faiths of their own. Different faiths, different gods, upholding a surface of peace and mutual interest. Even Pythia, capital of the Rosa Kingdom, in fact played host to several great Churches.
“My lord.” Wolfe’s captain of the guards threaded through countless graceful dancers and arrived without a sound. “No news.”
Count Wolfe calmly finished the red wine in his flute glass, his sturdy frame held upright; a gown of stately luxury proclaimed his rank, yet more and more whispers reached his ears.
Evidently, the disappearance of Alana Wolfe was no secret among the Rosa Kingdom’s upper crust.
Fans with vivid feathers floated hidden fragrance; the ladies, half-veiling their mouths, chatted on, chewing over other people’s gossip in the gentlest of voices, their low laughter and soft murmurs as if the words came wrapped in the warmest concern.
“On account of learning of her mother’s death… Heh, what a sheltered little lady she is.”
Hugo dismissed the quest notices and stood in the plaza (a small corner of the ruins they had straightened up a little), surveying their spoils.
It was the fruit of two days and one night of nonstop grinding, fulfilling roughly 30% of the quest list’s requirements.
Grind… their livers were about to burst!
The players slumped against the little carts in every direction; even Alyosha was like that… Mina excepted. Her energy was still abundant, and until that grand knight had shown up, life had been fairly pleasant.
“Why don’t we walk a few more steps and rest in that little house?” the orc groaned, covering his face.
I Don’t Eat Eggplant snorted coldly. “If I had even a shred of strength left, would I be sitting here?”
There were no supplies here, which meant none of the alchemical potions could be used freely, or there’d be nothing left for a critical moment. Mina was leaning quite contentedly against the orc’s broad back. “How much time do we have left?”
Hugo knew exactly what she was asking and answered flatly, “One hour, twenty-five minutes.”
Wonderful. That was their deadline for the first quest.
Mina murmured to herself, “Now I get why Wusu wanted to build that teleportation array. The manpower shortage is dire…”
No one knew what this main questline would ultimately build, but the manpower needed for the earliest construction phase fell far short; unlike Wusu, they couldn’t raise a magnificent building in the space of a heartbeat.
“Do you all think…”
The elf tugged at his silver hair, faint puzzlement crossing his handsome face. “…Wusu is a bit strange?”
Alyosha lowered her head with detachment. This human warlock looked like she cared nothing for the game’s NPCs, yet she was also the fastest to answer I Don’t Eat Eggplant. “You mean to ask where in this game isn’t strange.”
Three years on, who didn’t covet the technology the Otherworld Company held? But it was like a weasel casing the henhouse: three years of sneaking and it still hadn’t managed a single theft. Anywhere else and it might have slid, but the Americans and the Chinese were absolute powers in their own right, and even they came up empty-handed.
Most people played with perfect peace of mind; there were always a few who found it burned going down.
Hugo was a steady, level-headed man. Though their little team had all met in-game, after more than two years they knew one another inside out.
He knew the elf looked flippant and feckless on the surface, but was in truth a man of measure who knew when to strain and when to slack; he would not raise this for nothing. “Why bring this up all of a sudden?”
The elf rolled upright and sat straight. “I’m nearsighted.”
“Mm-hm.” Mina rolled about on the orc’s back, petite and pitifully adorable. “And?”
“Two days ago, after I logged out, I could see a mosquito two hundred meters away.”
Alyosha’s hands paused mid-bandage; then she said flatly, “Are you having delusions?”
I Don’t Eat Eggplant snorted coldly, pulled up his attribute panel, and shoved it in front of the players. “Remember that reward of +1 to all stats?”
They were all smart people; for one instant, the silence went utterly soundless.
“I’m nearsighted, so I noticed the change immediately. Tomorrow, when you wake up, go test yourselves.” The elf waved the attribute panel away and ended the conversation calmly.
The change hadn’t begun with the game.
It had begun when Wusu appeared.
[First Subject successfully received.]
[Subject]
[Name: Alana Wolfe]
[Identity: Eldest daughter of Count Wolfe]
[Class: Grand Knight]
[Description: Valor is her pursuit, the battlefield her beloved. Alana Wolfe was born a valkyrie to sweep across battlefields! Her flight from home seems to hide a secret]
[The Bell-Chime Tree has grown strong. Core confirmed. Opening the Territory.]
[Wusu’s Territory is empty and uninhabited. Please recruit ten Subjects!]
[Recruits: 1/10]
[Territory opened. Territory map opened. Traveler detected near the Territory…]
[Scan complete. Recruit as Subject?]
[Yes] [No (Erase)]
Wusu pressed his lips together, eyeing the two glaring characters trailing after [No]. “Alana, what does ‘erase’ mean?”
Alana had been following quietly at Wusu’s heels; at the question she spoke. “It means to kill.”
Wusu: cheeks puffed out.
His fair little finger jabbed hard at the first option, and then he turned to go.
Wusu moved so quickly that Alana grew curious. “Where are you going?”
Wusu answered obediently, “If travelers don’t agree to become my Subjects, they will die.”
Wusu rarely spoke such resolute words.
Alana had known Wusu only a short time, but if he said so, she would follow. A grand knight’s keen senses had long since told Alana that others were present here.
Not strong ones.
With Alana’s skills, her escape from Viscount Weir’s near-inescapable dragnet had owed nothing to the child’s-play dazzle of that badge.
“Let me take you there.”
Alana could see Wusu’s urgency, and dipped into a slight bow as she said it.
Wusu pressed his lips together, then nodded a little.
He leaned against Alana’s soft chest and sighed like a little adult, silently poking at the semi-transparent window.
The semi-transparent window shifted its position so that Wusu could poke it more happily.
Not allowed.
Wusu thought to himself. Travelers were good people.
He mustn’t bully them.
The Secluded Forest swayed, as though the light had dimmed a little.
At the same moment, the same dialogue box appeared before the players.
[Do you accept becoming a Subject of the Territory (that’s Wusu’s Territory!)]
[Accept] [Refuse]
(Refusing may lead to unfortunate consequences)
Mina: ? What unfortunate things?
“You’ll die.”
Carried in the grand knight’s arms, Wusu teleported instantly in front of the players.
The elf frowned, impatience written across his handsome face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He was always like this; it wasn’t that he was directing his temper at Wusu.
Alana’s eyes narrowed, her hand closing around the blade of light.
Wusu’s tone was flat; his voice, as ever, was slightly cool and soft, so sweet and gentle it ought to rouse an even fiercer urge to protect him. But when he said the words “you’ll die” so offhandedly, the elf’s heart plummeted.
However precious Wusu was, in the players’ eyes he was nothing more than a Creation of the game.
And a Creation could not speak like this… Those words had been like a placid sigh, like a revelation, like the edict of a god.
So it shall be.
The elf felt himself drift; that split-second daze from when he had first gazed upon Wusu seemed to return before his eyes.
He was “The Unnamed One.”
No… It.
Not “he.”
The elf stared at Wusu, dumbstruck, the split and quarreling thoughts brawling inside his skull.
He… It…
Wait. These were not his own thoughts!
I Don’t Eat Eggplant squeezed his eyes shut and, neat and decisive, switched off Realism Value and Pain Value, severing the tangled train of thought.
Far beyond all reach, a certain existence abruptly opened its eyes.
