Running Interference (3)
"Clothes make the man," or so went an old continental adage, meaning fine attire could transform a person's entire presence. Conversely, people often said that the finishing touch to any outfit was an attractive face, yet even peerless beauty tended to lose its luster when paired with a dreadful wardrobe.
Who was that again? I remember seeing a post about him on the Gallery.
There was a certain football player—tall, handsome, and blessed with an athletic physique befitting a professional athlete—who was infamous for letting his bizarre sense of style ruin everything. Selena, however, represented the exact opposite extreme. She was so ethereal that she looked ready to take wing and ascend into the heavens at any moment. Of course, given her breathtaking features, practically anything she wore looked splendid on her.
"I've seen plenty of gorgeous gowns in my life, but none quite compare to what you have on," Ash remarked. "It really suits you."
"I'm sure you'd look lovely in a dress like this too, Unnie."
"No, absolutely not." Ash waved her hands in vigorous refusal. A uniform was one thing, but frilly dresses were completely out of the question for her. The primary reason was sheer discomfort; every time the laces constricted her waist, she felt as though the breath was being choked right out of her lungs. Having spent her entire life as a knight, she placed utility above all else.
The next time I wear a dress will be my wedding day, and not a day sooner, Ash muttered inwardly. A self-deprecating smirk threatened to surface at the thought of when that distant day might actually arrive, but she swallowed it down. More pressing matters demanded her attention. Leaning across the table, she took a seat opposite Selena and broached the topic.
"So, how did your conversation with the Demonic Cult go? If you're free to share, could you give me a brief summary?"
"To put it simply," Selena replied coolly, "we were thoroughly outplayed."
"Wait, what? You were?"
Ash's eyes widened in utter disbelief. That was the last answer she had expected. Though their acquaintance had been brief, Ash knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Selena wasn't merely brilliant—she possessed an intellect capable of swaying the entire continent if she set her mind to it. One didn't need to look far for proof; Selena had devised the Forest Summoning Magic, a ritual capable of extracting creatures directly from the compressed space of the Four Seasons Forest. That single feat alone would have dropped a metaphorical meteor upon the academic world, which was precisely why it was kept strictly secret. It hadn't been developed for fame or fortune, but solely for one person: Grylls.
"Just what did they pull for you to admit defeat like that?" Ash asked. "Did that guy suffer from the Nine Yin Severed Meridians too?"
Ash couldn't fathom how Selena could have been bested. Shrouded in deep mysticism, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult rarely revealed anything to outsiders, leaving their leadership and total military might an absolute mystery. The same held true for Wi Seolak, their visiting envoy. Discerning what insidious schemes he harbored or how cunning his intellect truly was had proven nearly impossible.
"He didn't actually do much of anything," Selena explained. "Merely securing an audience with us fulfilled his true objective."
"I'm not following..."
"To put it plainly, the Demonic Cult is preparing for a game of chicken."
In a calm, measured tone, Selena laid out her findings, spanning from Wi Seolak's subtle ploys to the investigation she had conducted thus far. The Demonic Cult possessed an alarmingly vast hoard of capital, yet every inquiry into the source of their funds had hit a dead end. Even if an empire squandered its wealth, a rich house takes generations to truly starve; the Central Plains Imperial Court had mismanaged its state affairs, yet its coffers remained formidable. Under such circumstances, the Heavenly Demon Cult's sudden financial backing was highly suspicious, yet despite extensive digging, not a scrap of evidence had surfaced.
"I considered whether the Cult might have forged a secret pact with the Dwarven realm of Mountain, but that wasn't the case," Selena noted. "Mountain already has its hands full fighting Alfheim."
"Could they have secretly acquired high-value goods through the Gallery?" Ash suggested, lifting her teacup. It was a reasonable deduction. A similar scandal had occurred in the past, where the previous Head Mod had formed a corrupt arrangement with a local fief to smuggle various illicit commodities across dimensions. That incident had bankrupted the victimized territory and inflicted massive economic losses at the national level. Fortunately, neither that former mod nor the ringleaders were particularly bright, so they were quickly tracked down and executed. Had they possessed an ounce more cunning, everyone would have been robbed blind before realizing what hit them.
"Do you really think the Head Mod would just stand by and watch that happen?" Selena countered.
"True. Knowing that person's personality, they would've pinned the post and publicly shamed them for eternity."
Why on earth someone like that had saddled her with a Deputy Mod badge was still completely beyond Ash's comprehension. Regardless, given the Head Mod's strict temperament, any unauthorized smuggling would have been met with swift sanctions. In other words, this wasn't dimensional smuggling; a genuine domestic funding source existed.
"The only other realistic possibility is currency counterfeiting," Selena mused, "but that would eventually strangle their own economy, so it's unlikely."
"Don't rush yourself too hard," Ash advised. "Hardly anything has ever been known about the Demonic Cult anyway. If you push too recklessly, your informants will be the ones in mortal danger."
Having served as a soldier on countless covert operations, Ash knew all too well how perilous intelligence gathering was. Such informants operated as deep-cover spies who enjoyed zero legal protection. In a high-stakes standoff where every scrap of intelligence carried weight, acting rashly could prove irreversible.
"Thank you for the advice. That's why I intend to hand this matter over to the higher-ups. While I'd prefer to oversee it myself, I have other responsibilities to attend to."
"Keep only one foot in the door so you can pull back at any time," Ash said. "Mishandling this could drag you straight into a war."
"And what about you, Unnie?"
"Me? I..."
Ash swallowed her words at Selena's incisive question. Her position was undeniably ambiguous. As an internal conflict unfolding in a foreign state, she could comfortably turn a blind eye. The problem, however, was that the nation in question was the Central Plains. Depending on how the geopolitical scales tipped, the Messiah Empire might be compelled to intervene.
From our perspective, it would be far better for both sides to bleed each other dry in a war of attrition rather than seeing a one-sided slaughter. Regardless of amicable diplomatic relations, the Central Plains was ultimately a rival foreign power. What was more, the moment the Heavenly Demon Cult successfully framed itself as a legitimate 'Revolutionary Army,' extending direct imperial support to the court would become politically fraught. If the Empire were to offer aid at all, it would be limited to dispatching a covert detachment...
"There's virtually no chance they'd deploy me," Ash said. "In operations like this, the state usually keeps its mouth firmly shut even if troops are dispatched, but..."
"For all sorts of strategic reasons, they wouldn't recklessly send you out. That's what you mean, right?"
"A blade is always at its most threatening while still resting in its scabbard."
Even if the political developments rubbed the Messiah Empire the wrong way, the likelihood of deploying Ash was infinitesimally small—short of the Cult issuing an overt provocation or sinking imperial merchant vessels. Hence, it was best to let the Central Plains settle its own affairs while they focused on their immediate duties.
"Very well. I should be heading back to the Holy Kingdom soon," Selena said. "Is there anything you need?"
"No. But... there's something far more important."
"Something more important?"
Setting down her teacup, Selena regarded Ash's suddenly solemn expression. For Ash—of all people—to frown like that meant it was no trivial matter. A knot of tension tightened in Selena's chest.
"The truth is..."
"Yes?"
"I got made a Blue Tag."
"...Pardon?"
Selena tilted her head slowly. Given the grave atmosphere Ash had built up, the words that just spilled from her mouth felt like a farce. Yet Ash looked dead serious, proving Selena hadn't misheard in the slightest.
"You mean... a Deputy Moderator? The Blue Tag that I'm thinking of?"
"Yeah. Exactly that."
"...Did you do something wrong?"
Deflated as she was by the anticlimax, Selena was genuinely curious. The Head Mod, 'Don't Abandon the Hero,' was well known for an unyielding martyr complex, insisting on handling all grueling chores alone and repeatedly stating that no deputy mods were needed. With a self-sacrificing disposition bordering on being a total pushover, yet handling affairs with crisp, unexpected efficiency, the Juddak enjoyed widespread goodwill. For someone like that to force the position onto Ash meant Ash must have committed some colossal blunder.
"Before I answer that, let me ask you something first," Ash said. "What do you usually talk about when you converse with him?"
"Sending him an Elixir on occasion, asking if he needs any supplies... That's about it, isn't it?"
"You don't talk about personal matters?"
"He has his hands full as it is. He has to clean up after those kids every single day."
"Ssshhk..." Ash drew in a sharp breath through her teeth. The blame was looking squarely pointed at her. Perhaps the Head Mod had been monitoring the threads closely; Grylls was an utterly unique case, after all.
"Just what did you do to get appointed as a sub-moderator?" Selena asked. "The administrator wouldn't have handed that out without cause."
"Well, you know... a little flirting?"
The gears in Selena's head whirred into overdrive at the word 'flirting'—only to grind to a halt a second later when she recalled the message Ash had fired off barely ten minutes ago.
"Don't tell me you asked him to marry... Ah, you did. Were you relentlessly badgering him? In private messages, too?"
Selena's expression stiffened. Ash's esteemed image was plummeting at terminal velocity. Ash Menethil was a revered Swordmaster, the shining pride of the Messiah Empire, held up as an uncompromising, independent icon who swore she would never wed any man weaker than herself. Yet here she was, desperately clinging to a solitary survivalist. If this got out, while it might not ruin her renown, it would fuel gossip across the entire continent.
"I wasn't badgering him!" Ash protested. "All I said was that he should hurry up and escape so we could talk in person. Isn't that perfectly reasonable?"
"I've said that much myself... Be honest. You said something else, didn't you?"
"I don't know what kind of weird picture you're painting of me in your head, but definitely not! If anything, I was the one who received something like a confession."
"...A confession?"
The moment the word 'confession' reached Selena's ears, an odd, stifling sensation clamped down on her chest. Wondering why on earth she was feeling so unsettled, she forced it down and listened closely.
"Well... you wouldn't understand the part about night watch sentries, so I'll skip that," Ash continued. "Do you remember when he was bitten by a Mad Dog and I sent him an Elixir?"
"Of course I remember. He was in dire straits."
In many ways, that incident had marked a major turning point—the most lethal crisis in Grylls's survival ordeal. With swindlers running rampant across the Gallery, any culture of 'charity' was virtually nonexistent. Yet even then, Ash had readily donated a priceless Elixir out of pure, unadulterated goodwill. Had she not intervened, amputating his arm would have been his only recourse. She had snatched him from the jaws of death.
"He's kept the empty Elixir bottle all this time," Ash said with a soft smile. "He promised that once he escapes the forest, he'll personally return it to me."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Isn't he admirable? I hadn't even considered that."
Ash shrugged lightly, her voice swelling with unvarnished pride. Watching her gloat, Selena felt a flicker of envy, quickly superseded by a peculiar prick of irritation. Though she maintained her flawless poker face, an inexplicable displeasure gnawed at her.
"Um... does he know who you really are, Unnie?"
"Not a clue."
"Truly? What if he figured out your status and is intentionally targeting—"
"If anyone's doing the targeting here, it's me. Why would he target me?" Ash snorted. "Besides, he's already been publicly declared the Messenger of God."
Selena's mild slander had been thoroughly dismantled. She gave a slow nod of concession before freezing inwardly. ...Wait, what did I just say?
Realizing the implications of her own words, she flinched. Questioning his motives so cynically skirted close to belittling him. In high society, such a remark would have amounted to an open declaration of war. Fortunately, Ash seemed oblivious to Selena's slip, looking contentedly lost in her pleasant memories. Cooling her slightly flushed head, Selena steered the conversation back to the core issue.
"Still, being appointed as a deputy moderator over just that makes very little sense."
"Right? She told me to stop bothering people and put my idle time into moderating the Gallery if I was that bored, but I don't get it."
"Hmm..."
Setting aside her subtle irritation, the situation was utterly baffling. What could possibly have triggered the Head Mod to resort to the drastic measure of a forced moderator appointment? While Ash had certainly been pestering Grylls, had she committed an offense grave enough to warrant such treatment? Absolutely not.
Which means this was an overwhelmingly emotional retaliation...
Selena seized upon that deduction. The Gallery offered a nearly impenetrable shield: anonymity. Real names, genders, ages, residences—there were countless details even the Juddak couldn't uncover.
Anyone, young or old, male or female, can access the Gallery. Tone and speech alone are never reliable indicators of someone's actual gender.
Crude vulgarity knew no gender boundaries, and horrifying one's fellow users was practically an art form on the forum. On the Gallery, a prim, sheltered noble lady could easily morph into an unhinged keyboard warrior. Well, not me, of course, Selena thought defensively. She might employ biting sarcasm on occasion, but she never stooped to vulgarity.
Returning to her logical deduction, Selena broke it down step by step.
Unnie kept nagging him to marry her, so one could infer she's a woman... but that's merely an assumption. Men pretending to be women, women posing as men—catfishing was rampant in online communities. Users frequently joked that without photographic proof, nothing was believable. Ash was no exception; despite lurking like a ghost in the Gallery, she had never once uploaded a photo of herself. There was a glaring lack of hard evidence to definitively confirm her gender.
Even setting that aside, the administrator's feelings toward Lord Grylls are paramount.
Selena tapped the table, sinking deeper into contemplation. The more she turned it over, the more anomalies emerged. While Ash's predicament bordered on reaping what she sowed, the Head Mod's reaction strayed far beyond reasonable bounds. It was so brazenly emotional that it practically screamed a hidden motive.
Out of all the options available, why appoint her as a deputy moderator? It feels as though she's trying to place Unnie beneath her—keeping her under constant surveillance.
Had she simply slapped Ash with a temporary ban, nobody would have batted an eye. But drafting her as a Blue Tag smacked of an overt scheme to pry the two apart. If Ash neglected her mod duties, the Juddak would have a bulletproof pretext to ban her. It was practically an unblockable checkmate: the Head Mod lightened her own workload while simultaneously clearing away an eyesore—killing two birds with one stone.
Weighing all these factors together, a single hypothesis formed in Selena's mind.
The administrator, 'Don't Abandon the Hero,' harbors feelings for Lord Grylls. Tremendous feelings.
It was highly probable that Don't Abandon the Hero was deeply indebted to Grylls as well. What that favor was remained unclear, but it had to be worth something comparable to saving her life. Otherwise, she never would have made such an out-of-the-blue appointment.
Heavenly Demon has shown plenty of goodwill toward him too, but hers leans more toward reverent gratitude for a savior. She was hardly the type to flirt openly like Ash. It was more like she considered showering her benefactor with endless favors a solemn duty. Moreover, since her gender remained unconfirmed, there was no telling if romantic interest was involved.
And if pestering Grylls was the offense, other Fixed Nicks have done far worse. I heard trade requests flood his inbox around the clock. Cheonma had volunteered for her Blue Tag, and other gonics pestered him relentlessly. Had the Juddak appointed every one of them as moderators? Not a chance. Singling out Ash was a purely vindictive strike.
To summarize: the administrator developed deep affections for Lord Grylls through some incident, and seeing Ash Unnie flirting with him threw her into a jealous rage. Is that the gist of it?
It sounded wild, yet it stood as the most plausible scenario by far. To test the hypothesis further, Selena could try flirting with Grylls herself, but...
...That's far too embarrassing.
The mere thought made her cheeks burn. Selena was someone who maintained strict etiquette even in an anonymous online space. She lacked the shameless audacity to throw herself at someone like Ash. Besides, she had no desire to trouble Grylls just to satisfy her curiosity, and becoming a Blue Tag was out of the question—she was already busy enough in the physical world without taking on unpaid forum chores.
In any case, Don't Abandon the Hero knows Ash Unnie's real gender. Despite the Gallery's anonymity. And an administrator can...
Track the real-time physical locations of Fixed Nicks. That was the decisive clue. Knowing Sword Master's gender meant the Juddak knew exactly who she was in reality.
Having connected the dots, Selena addressed Ash casually.
"Unnie."
"Hm? Done thinking?"
"Yes. May I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
Only one step remained.
"If I recall correctly, the new administrator was appointed to the Gallery roughly one or two years ago."
"Right. It was just after they caught the culprit behind the Academy Stalking Incident."
"You were living in seclusion back then as well, weren't you?"
"Well, yeah. I had no reason to go outside."
It was time to narrow down the suspects.
"Could you tell me who you met during that period?"