Blue Tag (4)

Presently, Sword Master Ash was what society would call an unemployed bum, spending her days getting slapped across the back by her mother.

A freeloader who endlessly browsed the Gallery, giggling whenever something amusing crossed her screen.

Yet she had, undeniably, lived through the grind of society.

And not just any ordinary professional life, either, but the viper's nest of high politics, where schemes and Machiavellian maneuvers were part of the daily routine. Since ancient times, politics had evolved as a means to check and constrain overwhelming physical power. Ash, in particular, had been nothing more than a commoner before the Emperor bestowed a noble title upon her. Until that fateful day, she had walked on eggshells around the nobility, flattering them, laughing at their jokes, and playing along with their whims. She had played the political game with utmost diligence just to keep herself clear of trouble.

Granted, marriage would have been the easiest way out, but because she was overwhelmingly powerful, every single prospect had fallen through time and time again. Furthermore, once she was appointed Commander of the Imperial Guard, political complications ceased to be an issue altogether.

In any case, Ash had walked the path of society—and tasted its murkiest, most treacherous politics firsthand. Which was precisely why Cheonma's sudden appointment as a Blue Tag set off alarm bells in her head.

She definitely cut a deal. There's no other way that old relic would've accepted a Blue Tag. And the Main Mod wouldn't have handed it over for free, either.

The moment Ash caught wind of Cheonma becoming a deputy moderator, the gears in her head began turning. Unlike a certain naive fool, she was a seasoned veteran of the real world. She grasped the situation faster than anyone.

Just what kind of deal did they strike?

Ash was a veteran resident of the Gallery. If measured by tenure alone, she was pushing close to ten years. Unlike the previous Main Mod, the current one was a strict stickler for rules and principles. On top of that, he was saddled with such a severe martyr complex that he would never forcibly dump the Blue Tag onto someone against their will. For a person like that to appoint a deputy moderator—and from a high-profile Fixed Nick, no less—meant something was definitely brewing beneath the surface.

Cheonma probably approached him with the proposal first, but still...

In truth, Cheonma becoming a Blue Tag posed no real threat to Ash. What if Cheonma started abusing her newfound authority? Her badge would be revoked in an instant, followed by a multi-week ban. Cheonma knew this all too well, which was why on the surface, she appeared to be diligently carrying out her duties. Yet Ash strained to read the true intention lurking behind the curtain. Why had Cheonma taken up the Blue Tag right now, of all times?

The timing is way too coincidental.

Ash had clashed with Cheonma quite a few times recently, squabbling back and forth over whether the Mana Cultivation Method was superior or the Internal Cultivation Art reigned supreme. However, since it was mostly Ash picking fights out of thin air, Grylls had ultimately taken Cheonma's side. Acknowledging her own petty conduct, Ash had backed off, choosing to offer only occasional advice without further meddling.

Still, it feels like such a waste...

Even so, she had no intention of throwing in the towel. It was simply too good of an opportunity to pass up. It had been an eternity since she had seen raw talent with such blooming potential.

Ash had once trained countless disciples. Never mind the fact that her motive had been entirely impure—scouting for a prospective husband among them. Regardless of her hidden agenda, she took immense pride in her eye for discerning talent. Those disciples of hers had all ended up falling for other women and getting married, but Grylls was different. As she had noted before, while his life hung in perpetual jeopardy, there was zero risk of his eyes ever wandering toward other women in that godforsaken wilderness.

Even the kids I raised never had this kind of raw baseline. I have to teach him, no matter what.

Whenever she looked at Grylls, she saw reflections of her younger self. A constitution where mana accumulated simply from drawing breath. In Grylls's case, mana pooled naturally through respiration due to his bizarre, extreme environment. And having mana actively circulate throughout the entire body was a feat that normally required reaching mid-tier Sword Expert.

That said, I'd rather die than take a Blue Tag.

Becoming a deputy moderator was something she vehemently refused to do. The Gallery was hardly exempt from politics. In fact, the petty, vicious factional warfare here was far worse. The difference? Online politicking was an endless cesspool of agitation, fabrication, trolling, and ultimately, internal collapse. A Blue Tag drew far more attention and heat than any regular Fixed Nick. Just look at Cheonma. The moment she strapped on that badge, she was bombarded from all directions. The only reason she weathered it so smoothly was her absurdly arrogant, imperious personality. Mental fortitude wasn't an issue for Ash, either. She just despised it. Ash simply hated the idea of being a Blue Tag!

Either way, that makes me the latecomer.

In the end, Ash could only chuckle wryly. Cheonma had delivered a textbook checkmate. Who could have guessed she would actually take the Blue Tag? Yet her curiosity was eating away at her. What on earth had possessed the Main Mod to seat Cheonma in that position?

Time to do some digging.

Connecting with the Main Mod was remarkably straightforward. All she had to do was send a trade request. Since only Fixed Nicks could initiate trades, the Main Mod almost always accepted them.

The moment the request went through, the Main Mod responded with his usual exuberant energy. Ash smiled at his ever-cheerful demeanor before typing out her inquiry.

Unlike ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her polite smile, the question went straight for the jugular. The Main Mod was evidently so caught off guard that he blurted out an utterly bizarre response. As far as Ash knew, the Main Mod was incapable of telling a lie. Even under the shield of anonymity on the Gallery, his nature never wavered.

Ash nodded at the Main Mod's brutally candid answer. Thanks to that, she had pieced together the full story. As expected, Cheonma had taken the Blue Tag solely for Grylls's sake.

Wait, couldn't she just write private posts? Isn't direct messaging a bit too one-dimensional of an idea?

Yet one question still nagged at her. What did she think the private post feature was for? Her reasoning seemed baffling.

That much fell within predictable parameters. Still, it made little sense. Compared to the heavy burdens a Blue Tag had to shoulder, the return was laughably meager. Was Cheonma the type of person to run around abusing administrative power? Hardly. Cheonma was someone who said what she wanted to say and walked her own path, utterly indifferent to the opinions of others. If anything, much like the Main Mod, she wasn't the sort to wield tyrannical authority just because someone rubbed her the wrong way. On top of that, the Main Mod was watching her from above. The conditions for tyranny simply didn't exist.

Suspicious. Extremely suspicious. What on earth is her real goal?

Ash fell deep into thought. Cheonma's true intentions remained elusive. Still, her probe hadn't been entirely fruitless. Nodding to herself, she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠conveyed her thanks to the Main Mod.

The conversation drew to a close. Ash slowly organized her thoughts.

Doesn't seem like there are any political motives at play.

Given Cheonma's personality, political machinations were indeed out of the question. Taking the Blue Tag was likely just a convenient excuse to assist Grylls more smoothly, mixed with a few minor personal motives. Whatever those motives might be, they wouldn't pose any danger to Ash herself.

Was I worrying over nothing?

Cheonma becoming a deputy moderator was a massive event in its own right. Especially since Ash had just engaged in a war of words with her, it was impossible not to care.

Complicated. So complicated.

Perhaps she was overthinking it. She hadn't abandoned the idea of guiding Grylls, after all. Whenever he ran into a wall, she could quietly step in and lend a hand.

The Internal Cultivation Art is loaded with vocabulary that's practically indecipherable unless you're from the Central Plains. He's bound to make a post complaining about how difficult it is.

That would be her opening to pass down the practical know-how of the Mana Cultivation Method. Because the Mana Cultivation Method was specifically designed for training disciples from the ground up, it was packed with useful tips and shortcuts. That was the moment she needed to seize. Ash turned her full attention back to the Gallery, refreshing the page every ten seconds as she waited for Grylls's post to appear.

There it is!

Sure enough, before long, Grylls put up a post. And the topic was music to Ash's ears: a lamentation about how impossibly hard internal cultivation was. She clicked on the thread without hesitation.

"..."

Ash stared at the screen, unable to mask her sheer exasperation. Here she had gone through the trouble of initiating a trade with the Main Mod just to deduce what had happened, only for the man himself to lay ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it all bare for the entire board to see. It felt as though all her careful investigative work had been completely in vain. Very much like Cheonma, in a way.

...Well, might as well pass down some tips.

Regardless, what needed to be done had to be done. Ash pulled herself together and began typing a comment to deliver some much-needed advice.

Ash smiled at his polite gratitude. Unlike the Internal Cultivation Art, the Mana Cultivation Method was a respiratory technique explicitly tailored for nurturing novices from scratch. It was ideal for learning the foundational elements in fine, practical detail.

Odd, though. Why isn't Cheonma jumping in to object?

Normally, she would have stormed into the comment section by now to pick a fight. Yet Cheonma was nowhere to be found. What scheme was she concocting? Though suspicious, Ash continued typing her instructions.

"..."

A peculiar sense of stifling frustration welled within her. Ash pinched the bridge of her nose, her delicate brows knitting together. It wasn't because Grylls was slow to catch on. Nor was it because she was forced to cram her explanations line by line into a cramped comment thread...

A pack of hyenas had caught the sweet scent of honey and swarmed in. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Their incessant interruptions were shattering her focus. With their spam cluttering every gap between Grylls's replies, guiding him had become an exercise in exasperation.

Wait... don't tell me Cheonma took the Blue Tag because of this shit too?

A very reasonable suspicion began to take root in Ash's mind.

Meanwhile, at the Demonic Cult.

I can feel her stifled irritation even from here.

Yu Sowol smiled faintly as she observed Sword Master's comments, which were ostensibly hidden behind private post settings. The moment one donned the administrative armband, all private posts were laid bare. It was an inherent privilege of her office. Thus, Yu Sowol could see every single tip Sword Master passed down.

Calling such shallow remarks advice is an overstatement.

The guidance Sword Master provided was hardly worthy of being called tips. In truth, it differed little from what Yu Sowol had already instructed. This was the natural shortcoming of Sword Master Ash's overwhelming genius. Unlike her swordsmanship, which she had built painstakingly from the ground up, mana accumulated in her body simply by breathing. While she might excel at teaching swordsmanship, she possessed zero pedagogical talent when it came to respiratory cultivation methods.

I suppose it only bears results because our benefactor's latent potential is so extraordinary.

Yet, as the saying went, geniuses understood one another through their own bizarre logic. Grylls was steadily absorbing Sword Master's idiosyncratic advice. Even though Yu Sowol found the guidance laughably crude, Grylls devoured every word with genuine relish.

Sword Master. This person is certainly no ordinary figure either.

Still, none of that mattered. Yu Sowol shifted her gaze toward the message window where she had just been conversing with Grylls. Unlike trade requests, one-on-one direct messaging enabled real-time dialogue. The chat logs remained permanently preserved, allowing her to review them whenever she wished.

For a tree to bear magnificent fruit, its roots must first run deep and firm.

Yu Sowol's desire was simple: for Grylls to fully comprehend the profound truths of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art and let it blossom into magnificent fruit. If the roots were somewhat frail, Sword Master's practical tips could serve to reinforce them.

In the end, mortals fixate upon the sweet fruit rather than the hidden roots beneath.

No matter what external advice Grylls received, the core of his technique remained the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. That fundamental truth would never change. Eventually, he would awaken to the supreme majesty of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, and profound reverence would naturally take root within his heart. Sword Master was merely an auxiliary helper. The true master passing down the grand art was none other than Yu Sowol, the Heavenly Demon herself.

A proper duty owed to my life's savior.

Now it was time to fulfill her responsibilities as a Blue Tag. Yu Sowol redirected her focus to the main board. Yet, at that moment, she remained blissfully unaware.

When the roots began to shift, the branches rising from them were bound to transform along with them. And above all else, Sword Master's true expertise lay not in respiratory cultivation, but in pure, unadulterated swordsmanship.

Little by little, something new was seeping in.