Cana

Journey bowed her head and pleaded.

She did not ask for the unknown. She only asked to be allowed to keep her promise to Canaria.

Journey’s request—that Canaria pretend not to know her, even in the game—spread through several communities along with the Gravekeeper’s name.

The broadcast that followed stirred a tremendous reaction.

Even people who spent their time tearing each other apart and hurling insults at every opportunity still had a decent streak somewhere in them, apparently.

Moved by a plea so painfully sincere that it was impossible not to feel it, people agreed—each for their own reasons—to grant Journey’s request.

Of course, there were also those who objected.

Those who rose in protest against Journey’s plea, whether their reasons were justified or not, turned the community into a battlefield in no time at all.

Supporters and opponents, troublemakers and bystanders, and even those who tried to split the difference.

The battlefield filled with every sort of human being imaginable, and chaos was the only word for it.

Moths threw themselves into a fire that showed no sign of going out, and other moths were drawn to the bright light those burning moths gave off as they ignited.

The chain continued, and no one could tell where the head ended and the tail began.

Then, within the blaze, there were also those who found life again and rose anew: the arsonists who had vanished by the unseen hand’s doing.

The pitchforks that had been left lying on the ground, ownerless, were once again picked up by their owners, and the wooden clubs still burning were turned into torches.

Those who had vanished into ash were reborn in new bodies within the flames and hurled themselves back into the battlefield.

In that complete and total disaster of a situation, even the unseen hands finally let go and stepped back, turning themselves into mere spectators.

The only administrator capable of restraining this mess had vanished from the battlefield.

Just when it seemed as if the end of the world was about to arrive, one person changed her mind.

“But do we really have to fight like this?”

“What?! You’re giving up?”

“No, I mean, instead of fighting here, why don’t we just go after her directly in Silia? We can block the mountain path, kill the streamer, or even go over there and wreck things.”

“…!”

If the development of gunpowder had changed the real-world paradigm of war, then the paradigm of the community war was changed by a single sentence.

* * *

“…What?”

Journey, who had been about to log into Silia as usual, asked blankly.

“A war?”

“Why?”

Still unable to understand what was going on, Journey logged into the community.

She had learned from experience that whenever a situation escalated this quickly, the community was usually the cause.

As expected, the community was an utter disaster.

After carefully surveying the wreckage of the brutal war, Journey clutched her throbbing head.

“Is this… my fault?”

She hadn’t meant for things to turn out like this, but her words had become the seed of a war.

So why, exactly, had everything ended up like this?

Journey forced her dizzying thoughts back into order and read through the posts again.

While the community was fighting, a single remark had changed people’s minds, and a large number of them had then flocked to the mountain where Canaria lived.

They probably meant to set up camp and wait there, block Journey from getting in, or childishly run to Canaria and tattle on her.

Leaving aside the question of how they planned to tell on her when Canaria would probably slice them apart before they got the words out, it was actually not a bad idea.

But as with light and shadow, one always brings the other. The moment they acted, the supporters moved too.

Those who called themselves the Canaria Faction drove off the players who had set up camp, took their place, and stood guard with fierce, glaring eyes.

Then the opposition—the Outlaws—charged back in.

Those who had started fighting first called for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠backup from their own side, and when their numbers swelled, the other side called for reinforcements too.

And then there were the people who joined simply because they liked PvP, the ones who rushed in because they were bored and figured this was convenient, and all the other outsiders who had nothing to do with any of it; once they piled in, the scale of the war swelled like a snowball rolling downhill…

—and that was only the beginning.

“What do I do…?”

Less than a day had passed, and the incident had already blown far beyond Journey’s ability to handle.

If she shouted, “Everyone, please don’t fight because of me!” right now, would the war stop?

“Canaria’s going to think this is weird….”

After finally opening up to her, if the one person who had shown up faithfully all this time suddenly stopped appearing, anyone would think something was off.

As Journey paced anxiously, at a complete loss, a whisper from someone else finally reached her.

The sender was a fellow streamer Journey knew fairly well, and at the same time the raid leader of the PizzaIsDefinitelyHawaiian guild: Pine.

Journey ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠asked her viewers for understanding and briefly hid the screen.

Was he trying to comfort her?

Journey couldn’t tell exactly what Pine meant, but his words did make her feel a little better.

Wasn’t the top guild the very group that wanted nothing more than to bring Canaria down?

Journey tilted her head, unable to make sense of how they could be helping her.

In other words, there was no benefit to bending the knee to a faction that had already turned hostile.

Well, that does make sense. The Outlaws’ goal is to get in my way.

From the beginning, their goals and reasons had been plain enough.

They didn’t like Journey, so they were going to make trouble.

Blocking the road, going to war, tattling, and the rest were just means to that end.

After bringing her conversation with Pine to a close, Journey immediately logged into Silia.

Clang, clang!

“Kill him! Kill that bastard!”

“Mage, what the hell are you doing? Cast a spell already!”

If things had been normal, fresh air and the peaceful song of birds would have welcomed her. Instead, what greeted Journey was the sharp clash of metal and a vicious, ugly atmosphere.

She had logged out not far from the mountain, so the instant she entered the game she could see players already brawling.

Seeing the mass of players swarming the area, Journey lowered her voice as much as she could.

“…This is worse than I thought.”

Near where she stood, players who had been around at the time had all apparently rushed over too.

“There are this many people here in the morning?”

Who am I? Time Bill Gates.

Carefully making her way forward so as not to draw attention, Journey successfully met up with her ally.

“Journey-nim! Over here!”

Spotting Pine waving her over, Journey hurried toward him.

It looked like he’d been fighting up until just a moment ago; his armor was covered with blood and dirt.

“I came because you called, but… where are the others…?”

“They’re all fighting. I stepped away for a bit to welcome you.”

Pine led Journey into a makeshift tent.

“To be frank, the situation isn’t good.”

Pine got straight to the point.

“The battle’s going badly?”

“More than the battle itself, it’s the victory conditions that are the problem. We don’t really have one, but they do.”

“Ah….”

“We have to keep holding them back, but they only need to break through once to win.”

“Victory conditions….”

Journey racked her brain, but no good idea came to her.

Even if she went to Canaria and tried to explain, what would she even say?

There are some people trying to get between us right now, so don’t listen to them no matter what and just ignore them!

...So persuasive.

Besides, she couldn’t even say that much, and even if she could, there was no way Canaria would believe it.

Journey was the only one who had communicated with Canaria. If a whole mob of ruffians suddenly came charging in, who would she think was at fault?

And there’s no way I can reveal the truth either.

Hello, I’m the streamer Journey. I had no choice because of the broadcast. Sorry!

Even if she said that, the NPC filter would keep them from hearing it, and if there were no filter, she’d probably just be called insane.

With no answer in sight, Journey’s worries only deepened.

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