You're Giving Me Both?

"You're giving me both?"

"Hardly."

"I'd say I've earned that much. Do you really think one consumable is worth hundreds of the Heavenly Race?"

"You are not wrong. These items, however, are not mine. Which is to say I cannot dispose of them as I please."

"You can't decide as you please, and yet you'll let me choose one? That's odd."

"I reported the matter in real time by messenger and received permission. Two, they tell me, will not be allowed."

"Who says?"

"The Supreme Commander."

"And who is that?"

"If I told you it was the Second Archangel, would that mean anything to you?"

"Not in the slightest."

"At any rate, two will not do."

Yujun smacked his lips in dissatisfaction and called up the information on both items again.

There was a reason the Heavenly Race was strong. To think items like these belonged not to an Archangel, but to him. He had no wish to slight Sertiphs, yet the man simply lacked the skill to justify leaving treasures of this caliber to rot unused in an inventory. Don't tell me he's just serving as a warehouse for the Hardline Faction. The thought suggested itself because both items were that rare, and that fine. He could not help coveting them. And settling for only one was, by Yujun's nature, impossible.

"What would I have to do to receive both?"

"Another feat of merit ought to suffice."

"...Be honest with me. You don't actually need permission from above, do you?"

"That is not what matters. What matters ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is how much more you can contribute to us."

"So you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can give them to me."

"In any case, you lose nothing by fighting once more, do you?"

"Fine. But who am I supposed to fight? The enemy should already be dead."

"The place where the prisoners were held was merely the Moderate Faction's forward garrison. The greater part of their Heavenly Race remains to the rear. Lend your hand in dealing with them, and I am willing to give you both."

"Hearing it put that way, it sounds like rather more than one more fight..."

"Have I said anything false?"

"I can take one of them now, though, can't I?"

"I gave my word."

Yujun took the Magic Inscription Scroll.

Sertiphs's eyes flew wide as he watched ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the item vanish in less time than a blink. The speed had slipped clean past his perception.

"..."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Just now... you could have taken both, could you not?"

"Oh, come on. I'm hardly a bandit..."

In truth, had Sertiphs been some ordinary member of the Heavenly Race, Yujun might well have seized both. But the man occupied a position of considerable weight within the Hardline Faction. Acting rashly was out of the question. His performance was already assured, and the griffin's brain would be his soon enough.

"Remarkably quick hands."

"I killed more than three hundred of the Moderates without a single loss on our side. The Hardliners are going to win anyway, aren't they? Can't you just hand over the griffin brain?"

"That will not do. This war is not decided by numbers alone. There are far too many variables."

"The next battle will be the last, won't it?"

"Yes. In exactly three days, we intend to commit to all-out war."

"Why so late?"

"A number of complicated matters are tangled together."

"Does the Moderate side know?"

"They do."

"Wouldn't a surprise attack be more effective?"

Sertiphs gave a bitter smile and shook his head.

"That cannot be. This is a struggle over the interests of those on high—but it is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠also a game presided over by the Archangel, who has no part in the matter whatsoever."

"...A game?"

"A game of war, if you will."

"People actually die, don't they? This isn't some event. You're telling me you treat war as play?"

"It is to reduce the numbers of our Heavenly Race. Of late, our population has grown far too quickly."

At those words, Yujun's expression only grew more baffled.

"I know this is the sort of talk you will find difficult to understand. But in the Heavenly Realm, the number of the Heavenly Race must be held constant by one means or another. Should we fail, great chaos will come upon the world."

Sertiphs added the explanation.

"Why would chaos come just because there are more of you?"

"Because the System seeks to restore balance. As you are no doubt aware, our race is powerful enough from the moment of birth to strike down orcs and trolls. The strength possessed by a single member of the Heavenly Race is not a thing other races can measure against."

"So being strong is the problem?"

"Yes. Even if orcs multiplied into the hundreds of millions, no great trouble would follow. Their expected growth is not particularly high."

"What about humans? There are a terrifying number of us now. And weren't humans the race with the highest potential as players? Does that mean our numbers get regulated too?"

A faint smile touched Sertiphs's lips.

"There is something you have misunderstood. Humans possess high potential, but their expected growth is not especially high."

It sounded like a play on words, yet Yujun caught the meaning at once.

"You mean that even with high potential, their odds of staying alive aren't as good as the Heavenly Race's?"

"Correct. What good is a potential without limit? Such things matter only while one still draws breath."

"Even so, there are a lot of humans. Plenty of them ought to grow strong, shouldn't they?"

"And what, precisely, is your measure of growing strong?"

"Hard to say."

Strength and weakness were relative. He wasn't even sure a standard could be fixed in place.

"I will grant you this. Given time enough, and an environment in which to grow, humans could become no weaker than the Heavenly Race. The trouble is that those conditions must first be met."

Humans—Koreans, to be precise—had never lived in the Tower of Infinity to begin with. Even those who held fine talent and ability often lost their lives to accidents they never saw coming, and a great many died before that talent could ever flower. For people who had known the advance of science and long days of peace, adapting to the Tower of Infinity was no easy thing.

The races born and raised within the Tower, by contrast, had been accustomed to bloodshed since childhood. That was why Sertiphs could say that humans, however high their potential, did not have a high expected growth.

"What I said just now concerned the average. From time to time, mutants like yourself may well appear."

"Mutants..."

"It was not an insult. It was praise. Of all the humans I have seen, you are the strongest."

"And among the Heavenly Race?"

"I have not grasped your ability with any precision, so I cannot say. But the Heavenly Realm holds beings beyond anything you imagine."

"I see."

A smile touched Yujun's lips. That the Heavenly Realm held so many strong players was a good thing. It meant, at the very least, that those who could stand against the Demon God Worshippers and the Demon God were not few. If a great many Demon God Worshippers are embedded among the strong of the Heavenly Race, that would be another problem entirely...

"Anyway, this comes to an end in three days, right? I just need to come back then?"

Sertiphs nodded.

"Should it be moved forward, I will send word."

"Thank you for the interesting talk."

"Think nothing of it. If time allows, I should like to speak with you of this and that again."

"I'd welcome it."

Talking with him, Yujun found Sertiphs a comparatively mild member of the Heavenly Race, nothing like the first impression—though there was still a sense that the courtesy was extended because Yujun himself was strong.

He was turning their conversation over in his mind on his way back to the others when it appeared.

Kim Yohan glanced around.

"An event? I'm not the only one seeing this, right?"

"No. I can see it too."

"We should join, shouldn't we?"

"I doubt we'd lose anything by taking part."

"But our war isn't over yet, is it? What do we do about that?"

"I don't think events have ever run for very long. At least, none of the ones I've joined."

"Some of them drag on forever. Only happened once, but..."

Yujun nodded at Kim Yohan's words. The man had spent five years in the Tower of Infinity. It was only natural that he knew more.

"Hmm..."

"Still, the goal is clear—find the golden goblin. Once we find that, it feels like it might just be over."

"Let's do it, then."

Yujun looked to Do Jiyun and Dokgo Minsu. Meeting his eyes, Do Jiyun smiled.

"What other choice do I have? You're the one who said we're doing it."

"Nor have I. An event is not a thing one refuses."

The Heavenly Race seemed just as thrown by the sudden event. Even so, the air around them was bright with excitement, and a great many of them clearly wanted to take part. Watching them, Yujun murmured.

"They said there would be an all-out war... This might well push that date back."

The reasoning seemed sound even as he spoke it. A golden goblin event that anyone past level 600 could join. A player would postpone a war if it meant taking part. An event that opened only in the Heavenly Realm. There would not be another chance like this.

"Manuela. What about you?"

At his words, Manuela looked at him as if to ask what kind of question that was.

"You're going, and you think I wouldn't?"

"Right. Then let's not waste time. We go now."

Warping and nausea went hand in hand. Yujun had long since grown used to it, but Harp looked sick enough to dry-heave.

"Harp, you all right?"

"...Yes! I was only dizzy for a second. I'm fine now."

"Good."

"Yujun. I got a little dizzy too."

Manuela came closer, a hand pressed to her temple.

"And why is that?"

"...My stomach doesn't feel good either."

"Take some medicine."

"..."

It was nothing like the way he treated Harp, and Manuela visibly deflated.

"Anyway..."

Yujun let out a breath of wonder as he took in the scenery, changed in a single stroke.

"Just like the name. Everything here is gold."

It deserved to be called a garden. Flowers crowded every stretch of ground, and not one of them was any color but gold. The place was so vast its end never came into view, and the blossoms were beyond counting.

Greed kindled in Kim Yohan's eyes.

"Whoa. If we picked all of those and sold them, how much do you think we'd make?"

"Yohan. Have you forgotten that gold is of no great worth in the Tower of Infinity?"

"It's still gold, isn't it? What's the harm in taking some?"

"There is harm."

"Why?"

"Because I must be the one to take it."

In the instant Kim Yohan realized his mistake, Dokgo Minsu moved first.

"Ah—that's dirty!"

He darted after him at once, but Dokgo Minsu, bent at the waist, turned his head with a look of disappointment.

"Wh-why? What's wrong?"

"A system message appeared. The Golden Flower Garden cannot be damaged."

"Liar."

"Try it yourself, then."

"...Huh. It's true."

"Tsk."

While Dokgo Minsu and Kim Yohan bickered, Yujun—who had meant to have Harp secretly pluck a flower—clicked his tongue, his face full of chagrin.