The Final Twilight

Even seeing it with my own two eyes, I could hardly believe it.

Who would have thought I'd obtain Unique-grade equipment like this?

But what stunned me even more were the names on the list.

Most of them were Unique-grade armaments that had never appeared before — things still undiscovered, things even I had no idea existed.

Master sat in his office, scowling all day long as he stared at the continental map spread across his desk.

Tap. Tap.

His finger drummed against the southern region of the map as he drew a deep breath.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

No matter how I look at it, the only way out left for me is the Black King.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠overlord of the southern continent. The Black King was expanding his influence toward the central continent at a terrifying pace — proof enough that even the Empire of the central lands held no fear for him.

And so Master deliberated: whether to climb aboard that rising tide or not.

A storm of blood will sweep the entire continent soon enough. Everyone will have to choose which umbrella to stand under.

It wasn't only the Black King. Ever since the Great Expedition, the continental balance of power had been shifting at breakneck speed.

The Empire of the center. The Black King of the south. The White King of the north. Even the Elves of the west.

And that wasn't all.

If the rumors that the Demon King has recovered are true…

The Great Expedition Wilhelm had led had failed. Wilhelm himself had died, but it seemed he had dealt the Demon King a genuine blow — the Demon Realm's movements had gone quiet afterward. Lately, however, word that the Demon King had fully resurrected was circulating more and more often.

…So if he wanted to survive this savage storm, he had no choice but to pick a side. And if he climbed onto the Black King's coattails, he could trample everything that had ever looked down on him — rebrand the name Master into the minds of the Empire that had toyed with him and the countless Players who had sneered at him.

I can't afford another failure.

Of course, Master had reason to be desperate. Every plan he had set in motion lately had collapsed one after another. While everyone else was surging forward, he alone was stumbling backward.

…If I just sit here, I'm finished either way.

He had to do something — anything. The failed auction had left Rundela's finances scraped bare, and his reputation back on Earth was in freefall. He had to choose before things got any worse. While he still had a choice left to make.

The Black King is far stronger than the rumors let on. Territory, raw power — nothing is lacking.

And according to the independent investigation he had run, hitching himself to the Black King was a surprisingly solid option. The more he dug, the more astonished he had been by what lay beneath the surface. There was a reason the Black King paid no mind to either the Empire or the White King. Once he truly moved in earnest, Master wondered whether anyone on the continent could stop him.

What held him back from deciding was pride — the simple refusal to bow his head to some monster.

And then, mid-deliberation—

Text that appeared out of nowhere. Master tilted his head.

New Talents? The Rift Tower?

He quickly checked the registered announcements, leaned back against his chair, and stroked his chin. In moments he had grasped the contents — and a low whistle of admiration escaped him.

"This is… a jackpot."

What was talent? Growth potential. A character's future. But talent's most critical role was something else entirely.

Hidden Traits.

Hidden Traits that unlocked through talent combinations. And if new talents had blossomed across multiple categories—

It means new Hidden Traits have appeared.

…It was the same as saying new Hidden Traits had entered the world. He still didn't know which combinations would open them, but Hidden Traits branching from those talents clearly existed. And those Hidden Traits would be fundamentally different from anything that had come before — because the very appearance of new talents was unprecedented.

Worth researching.

Cornered at the cliff's edge, he felt another rope drop into his hands. Maybe this opportunity would finally give him wings. Why else would a tower that supplied SP appear alongside brand-new talents?

Whoever claims the new Hidden Traits first becomes king.

The first to obtain the new Hidden Traits becomes king. At this moment, no other Player would have realized that. Only he — who had run countless experiments related to Hidden Traits — could know. At that thought, Master smiled thinly and trembled with a rush of exhilaration.

A final chance to monopolize the tower and seize the lead.

And then—

Without a second of hesitation, the smile vanished from Master's lips as if it had never been there. His face hardened, and he furrowed his brow.

It can't be…

He denied it inwardly. No. It wouldn't be. Main Quest 8 was about purifying a city's sources of contamination, and Master had held the lead — standing in first place with an overwhelming score from cleansing Rundela. Even that bastard shouldn't have been able to surpass those points. He had been certain of it.

"What the hell is this…"

Checking the rankings and scores, Master felt his breath catch in his throat. He even rubbed his eyes, wondering if he had misread them. Nothing changed.

…What kind of lunatic was this.

Fifteen hundred points. He had never seen a score like that. Today was the first time he even learned that a score over a thousand could exist. No — even thinking back carefully, he had never seen a score that so much as approached a thousand either.

What kind of bug did he exploit?

Every Main Quest score Randolph had posted so far had been overwhelming, but never this absurd. Give him a hundred paces of charity and those earlier scores had still been barely comprehensible. The number floating before him now was a realm that a thousand paces — ten thousand paces — of charity couldn't make sense of.

Unless he purified an entire continent…!

Cleansing all of Rundela had only been worth 430 points. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it would take to hit 1,500.

The most important thing about Main Quest 8's rankings is the Privilege Shop.

A newly opened store. The items visible inside changed depending on rank. And Master, holding first place all this time, had reaped considerable benefits from that shop.

His teeth ground together.

What the hell do you even get at fifteen hundred points?

Rewards scaled with score, too. At that number, even most Constellations would have pitched in to raise the reward grade.

Then Master shook his head.

…Right. No matter how high the score, Main Quest rewards top out at Myth grade.

Main Quest rewards had a ceiling. As far as he knew, Myth grade was the hard limit. Beyond that lay only Unique grade — and he had never once heard of anyone obtaining Unique-grade gear by clearing a Main Quest.

He'll probably get to choose two or three Myth-grade armaments.

The number of rewards might change, of course. Even that alone was enormous. Still, it would feel underwhelming next to a score of fifteen hundred.

But Master's prediction missed the mark completely.

…Because that appeared.

A message announcing that a new Unique-grade piece of equipment had been crafted, floating up at the exact same moment. There was no chance anyone else had made it. This was clearly—

…Randolph obtained Unique-grade equipment.

Randolph! That bastard had seized it. It had to be the reward for hitting 1,500 points on the Main Quest. Scores over a thousand, it seemed, converted into Unique-grade rewards.

How? Even if the man was Phantom and knew more about Pangenia than anyone alive, was it reasonable to pull off bug-level plays like this one after another?

Master ground his teeth again — hard enough that they felt ready to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crack. Everyone else was racing ahead. And Randolph was soaring alone in a jet, climbing into the stratosphere.

I have to climb higher too.

He felt like he was going insane. The sensation of falling behind alone was something Master hated more than anything.

And then—

…No.

That wasn't the end of it? And it wasn't even "crafted" this time — what did "born" even mean?

He barely managed to swallow the bile rising in his throat. This was no longer a time for pride.

In the end, Master made his choice.

He would grab the Black King's rope.

What should I pick?

The list that had appeared was long, but I could only choose a single reward. I didn't mind. There was something else to gain beyond the reward itself.

This is information. Priceless information no one else knows.

Every name on that sprawling list was Unique grade — the names of Unique-grade items that currently existed on this continent, or that could exist. Information and treasure money couldn't buy.

You can guess their origins from the names.

For instance, "Primordial Light" was a name that pointed to a specific city — likely the Elven city called the Forest of Beginning. "Horizon's Resistance" might likewise refer to the place known as the World's End. Using name-linked information like this, I could even speculate on the whereabouts of other Unique-grade ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠items.

…This is a hard choice.

It was the happiest kind of hard choice imaginable. The rewards I'd faced clearing Main Quests until now weren't even in the same dimension.

Naturally I should pick whatever suited me best, but—

The Radiant Hero's Constellation. When he achieved his Final End, the reward was elevated to Unique grade. That means Unique-grade equipment related to him should be here too.

What weighed on me was the Radiant Hero's Constellation. He alone had taken an interest in me — and then faded, achieving his Final End. Something connected to him might be among the reward list. The problem was that I had to choose by name alone. This was exactly why information was both weapon and power in Pangenia.

Of these, I only know two names: the Bow That Aims at Gods, and the Dragon God's Helmet.

Both were pieces of equipment I had once intended to craft myself. I'd given up after failing to secure the materials, but I had a rough sense of how much destructive power those two carried. The Bow That Aims at Gods in particular was an absurd weapon that could lock onto a target with no range limit. If I picked something I already understood, at least I wouldn't fail.

A name made of a single word means every ability is concentrated into one inherent function. Twilight and Lamentation especially fall into that category.

Those two were also the most awkward to choose. I had no idea what they actually meant, and with only two characters between them, they might end up serving functions completely useless to me. Ordinarily, picking something I knew well would be the correct answer.

But one thing caught my eye.

Every name has a special effect attached.

Blazing flame effects, crackling lightning effects, light seeping through effects, and more. Every name that had appeared on the reward list carried a unique visual flourish. One might simply think Unique-grade items were that extravagant from the name alone, but—

Starlight is lingering on one of them.

Starlight rested on a single name. I knew it instinctively. That starlight was what the Radiant Hero's Constellation had left behind.

I made my decision and slowly reached out.

And then—

Ultimate Twilight.

This was what the Radiant Hero's Constellation had left for me. But Ultimate Twilight was not equipment. Not a weapon. Not armor.

This was… a rune.

Characters inscribed by a special existence. Ordinarily, runes like this were carved into a "soul" — something like the Soul of Hydragon, for example. It was the act of engraving an existence itself.

Where to inscribe this rune.

I reached out. The Northern Sky Ice Sword settled into my hand. Without a moment's hesitation, I engraved Ultimate Twilight into the Northern Sky Ice Sword.

Starlight poured down.