Chapter 111
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 111
Chapter Title: Each One's Meaning
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Celine liked the epithet "Root of Understanding."
The fact that she was an elf was something the longtime dwellers of the chat room had likely already guessed.
And that she held considerable influence among them.
It wouldn't be hard to speculate that she was a High Elf, either.
That was why she felt this representation as the Root aligned perfectly with her essence. It was akin to the sensation of someone calling out her name after it had slumbered deep in the earth for ages.
She also appreciated how the justification for anonymity had been set aside in favor of this new epithet.
Of course, adjusting to this sudden shift where everything had changed would take time.
But she knew that '0' personally setting the timing of this change meant it was inevitable.
If now was the time for transformation, accepting it was the right path.
The chat room's veteran members had naturally embraced their own epithets, and since those names mirrored their true natures so closely, there was little resistance.
She and Anonymous (1) had been the first ones invited here, after all. In this place where the logic of the familiar world didn't apply, they had adapted from the very start.
This change was merely a continuation of that process.
The newcomers, though, would need time.
It wasn't just epithets—a great many things were shifting in this era.
And its beginning was probably her.
The transcendent beings who wielded the covenant were ambushing them.
In exchange, what she had to bear was turning her blade toward the forces of evil.
This time, '0's intentions were crystal clear. It was as if one piece of the grand picture he had envisioned had finally come into focus.
And she was now part of it.
Perhaps the true beginning wasn't even now.
Maybe it had started from the moment she was invited to this chat room. Or even before that.
Far earlier—becoming a fragment of this plan whose origins she couldn't even fathom.
Strangely, serenity outweighed any fear.
She realized it then.
No matter where this path led, she was ready to step into it willingly.
Nascael.
Known as the Lord of Blue Flame, he had lately grown more accustomed to the name Anonymous (3).
That was probably because he spent so much time peering into the black stele these days.
For a king ruling a nation to do so meant the political situation was remarkably stable.
"Merciful Crown..."
Nascael recalled the upheaval in the chat room from the night before.
He knew better than anyone that this wasn't just a nickname—it was a seal of identification piercing to the core of his being.
Perhaps it was the role he was meant to play in this chat room.
The fact that it came from an absolute being whose face he had never even seen played into it, too.
There would be meanings beyond counting layered into it.
"Is something troubling you?"
In the Azure Flame Palace, a quiet voice echoed from the bedroom draped in blue silk.
At his side were his thirty-second concubine and his seventh.
Both enveloped him with their graceful forms.
Nascael pulled his concubines close with arms interlocked behind his neck and said,
"This peace might not last much longer."
"What could possibly go wrong with Your Majesty at the helm?"
"Exactly. As long as Your Majesty exists, this peace will endure forever."
The concubines comforted him sincerely, but Nascael's gaze looked beyond them.
He slowly shook his head.
"I will make the first move."
"...Pardon?"
"Change is coming. Whatever form it takes, now that I know in advance, I can't just sit idly by and watch. I can't slumber in the peace of a frog in a well. Someday, an unstoppable wave will crash in and shatter even that well."
His concubines felt a flicker of unease, but they soon resolved to trust and support Nascael as always.
They knew full well they couldn't even begin to grasp the breadth of the world he saw.
"We may not fully understand your grand designs... but if it's the path Your Majesty has chosen, we will follow."
Normally, he would have sensed their anxiety and done everything to soothe it, but his mind was already elsewhere.
'Anonymous (4)... no, Covert Scales now. I know preparations are needed... but maybe the price I offered is too meager.'
The word "courage" lingered in Roselin's heart, flickering persistently.
Son of Courage.
Was she truly worthy of that name? The doubt refused to fade.
It felt somehow off.
Delving deeper, she wasn't even a son to begin with.
Was it all a mistake?
He'd never even seen her, after all...
But the others all seemed satisfied, or at least accepting.
Unable to deny it fit her so well.
Even with her limited insight, she thought it suited her, too.
Was she the only one who felt differently...?
Roselin sensed a disconnect, as if she alone were facing a different direction.
That feeling had grown as she learned more about the chat room's purpose.
Forces of evil.
She'd never heard of them.
They stood at the opposite pole from '0', the great being who had gathered extraordinary transcendents in this chat room.
That alone told her how threatening they were.
Did that mean she had two enemies now?
Cedric had mentioned that the transcendent forces using Zmoll as a minion were formidable, too.
No, to begin with, could her power even help against such mighty foes?
"Courage..."
For some reason, the word kept stabbing at her chest.
A word she couldn't reject outright, nor fully embrace.
Perhaps it didn't describe who she was now, but who she was meant to become.
'Even my future, which I can't be sure of myself... can it declare that with certainty?'
"Sis."
Anonymous (6)—now called Naked Truth—Kamia looked up from the tree branch where she sat gazing at the stele.
Her long red hair cascaded over her eyes.
Peeking through those crimson strands was a girl with similarly red hair.
"Jenny? How did you get all the way out here?"
"I was looking everywhere for you! You've been here the whole time?"
Kamia grabbed her wide-brimmed hat and hopped down from the tree.
As if invisible hands gently caught her, her feet touched the ground lightly.
The stele she'd been holding had vanished seamlessly into her waist pouch.
"You sure found me."
Kamia placed a hand on Jenny's head, slowly stroking the red hair.
"What were you doing way out here! It's still dangerous. If you go any farther, you'll burn to death."
"...Have you actually seen someone burn to death?"
Jenny nodded firmly, as if to affirm it.
"Yes. So I hope that never happens to you, sis."
Kamia instinctively started to shake her head but stopped.
She wanted to say no, that even beyond the forest's edge, she wouldn't burn.
After all, she'd gone out there and come back.
And found that wondrous stele.
The outside world was full of such marvels.
She'd thought true magic belonged solely to them... but this was a magical device she'd never imagined.
It made her realize how narrow and foolish her previous understanding of truth had been.
Maybe that's why she'd been given the name Naked Truth.
...The others needed to know about this.
But admitting she'd gone outside? She'd get beaten faster than burning.
Especially thinking of big sis's thick fist...
Kamia couldn't hold back a sigh and shook her head.
"Guess I got caught, so time to head back."
"But what were you doing here? I looked forever."
"Here?"
Kamia pondered for a moment, then chuckled softly.
"I found a new truth."
"...Here?"
Jenny looked around in disbelief, circling the ordinary forest lined with thick trees before tilting her head.
"It's just... trees."
"Yeah. Just trees. That's the point."
"Ugh... treating me like a kid again!"
"Can't help it if you are one."
"I know everything there is to know! ...By the way, sis, aren't you really gonna reach the Akashic Records like this?"
"Impossible."
Jenny pouted at the instant rebuttal.
"Why not."
"Trapped in this tiny space, what Akashic Records?"
Jenny bowed her head, apparently agreeing it was spot on.
"If not for the curse, you really could have reached it."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"No, big sis always says it too."
"Big sis, well..."
"You're about to say something weird again, aren't you? We'll all tell on you. She's already sharpening her grudge."
"Scary..."
Jenny planted her small hands on her hips and declared,
"Ahem, better play nice with me!"
"Sorry for teasing the kid."
"Ahem... that's all?"
"Your mouth's already grinning."
"It's not!"
A man with spiky short hair.
He kept watching.
Ever since picking up this stele, without pause.
Standing stock-still in that spot, reading only the emerging words.
Observing was second nature to him.
After all, it was what he'd done his entire life.
Prisoner Warden.
For centuries, his existence had been unchanging: guarding one fixed post.
There dwelled beings not even granted names.
He watched them. Or more precisely, he ensured they never crawled back into the world.
Some might call it punishment.
Gazing upon nameless entities for decades, centuries—it was inevitable to become attuned to them, willing or not.
But he saw it as his duty. Merely fulfilling his assigned role.
Not for anyone's liberation or destruction... simply so the world wouldn't crumble.
'That's what I was taught.'
He slowly lifted his eyes to the sky.
A sky he hadn't seen in ages.
Faint moonlight glowed there, like the dim lamp on an ancient prison ceiling.
'How many years has it been this time...?'
He rummaged through old memories.
He couldn't recall precisely how long since his last outing.
Time had long become meaningless to him.
Of course, saying that before the great being would earn a scoff.
Not that his lifespan was infinite—merely that it held no relevance to his duty.
'Burning Glory?'
Could there be an epithet less fitting for him?
He stood there for a long while, mulling over its meaning.