999 VS 1

Tremble. Tremble. Tremble.

Isabella's hands shook like leaves in a gale. Her face had gone deathly pale, and a twitch seized the corner of her eye.

Only moments ago he had been inside the carriage. Now he was gone. She had scoured every corner of the surroundings, but Randolph was nowhere to be found.

Did he wake up?

Did he step out for a moment on some errand?

Every possibility whirled through her mind, and every one of them ended the same way: Impossible. There was no reason a newly awakened Randolph would leave without a single word to her.

"You truly didn't see him?"

"I told you, I didn't. This is some kind of ghost story, I swear."

The coachman looked just as rattled. He wasn't lying. Isabella had been gone for five minutes at most. If the coachman had moved Randolph and hidden him in that span, there would have been signs. His breathing, his bearing, his expression, even the beat of his heart — all of it was exactly as it had been before she stepped away. Everything pointed to the truth.

She bit down on a fingernail until it cracked.

I shouldn't have gone for the bread…

She stared at the cold loaf still sitting in the carriage and regretted it with her whole heart. She never should have left her seat. Who could have guessed that the same "Bakery" she had first seen in the Golden City of Arcana — the one she and Randolph had reached together — would be standing right here in the capital of the Balan Kingdom? A loaf that cost a mad fifty gold. The shop's name was simply Bakery. At the time she had only three hundred gold to her name and had never dared to buy one. The moment she spotted that familiar sign, a rush of fondness had pulled her out of the carriage — and that single choice had come back as something she could never undo.

"Don't tell me… a kidnapping?"

There were no footprints leading away. The coachman had never seen Randolph leave. That meant he had either sunk into the earth, risen into the sky — or been taken in secret by a third party.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The thought set her heart hammering like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a war drum. If someone had kidnapped Lord Randolph…

She would kill them. She would absolutely kill them.

But the dark thoughts kept chaining themselves together. If it was a kidnapping, who had done it?

…There are far too many suspects.

It could be players from the Eight Heroes Society. It could be the Empire, if they had somehow learned Randolph's true identity. It could be the White King. Or the Black King. Or the Operators. Or demons and devilkin. Once she started listing them, the number was staggering. Randolph always seemed to be walking a tightrope, carrying far too much alone.

Whoosh!

Isabella kicked off the ground. He couldn't have gone far. But even after searching for a long while, she found no trace of him. The capital was wider than she had expected.

…I can't find him alone.

She changed course and headed for the royal palace.

"Wh-what is that?!"

"Stop her!"

"Aaaagh!"

Whoosh! Thud!

KRA-KRA-KRA-KRA-BOOM!

KRAAAAAASH!

It was as if a natural disaster had struck the palace. A raw, eardrum-splitting roar tore through the halls and jolted the entire court ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠awake.

…What in the world is this racket?

In the middle of his afternoon tea, the King of Balan frowned at the sudden noise. It felt like only yesterday he had put King Friedrich of the Iron Kingdom in his place. He had been enjoying a stretch of peaceful days — and now this bolt from the blue.

"Haha. Pay it no mind. More importantly — this is a new herb we imported from abroad. The flavor is rather fine, don't you think?"

The king set the disturbance aside. The Saintess and Serengeti seated before him mattered far more right now.

"Ugh. What is this dog-shit taste?"

"Mmm, delicious!"

And then there were those two children — the boy and girl who had introduced themselves as Isera and Lucaria. Their reactions could not have been more opposite, and both of them carried a fierce, alien presence the king did not dare take lightly. Even the Saintess and Serengeti seemed faintly uneasy around them. They were clearly people of consequence.

Thud! Crash! Rumble!

BOOM! BOOM-BOOM!

"Haha…"

"I-Intruder!"

A soldier came sprinting in, gasping for breath. At last the King of Balan let out a sigh.

"…What kind of lunatic walks straight through the front gate of the palace?"

"Some madwoman…!"

"A madwoman?"

"She's raising hell, saying she has to see Lady Serengeti and Saintess Seia!"

Everyone knew Serengeti and Saintess Seia were here. After the extraordinary feats that had saved the Balan Kingdom, people causing a scene just to catch a glimpse of their faces was nothing new. But a disturbance this loud was a first, so the king nodded.

"A mad bitch, then. Why haven't you subdued her?"

"Th-that's…!"

A being that even the palace soldiers and knights could not restrain. Beside him, Serengeti tilted her head.

"A familiar aura."

"Heehee. I think I know who it is."

Saintess Seia smiled. Serengeti knit her brow.

"Who?"

"Her presence has grown much stronger. You really don't recognize it?"

"Hmm… This domineering force. Hot as the desert, sharp as a beast. Among those I know, the only one who radiates an aura like this is… Isabella?"

"That's right."

"Then why is Isabella attacking the palace?"

Isabella. The woman Serengeti knew was more cautious than anyone. Thoughtful, quiet — a little dull for it, perhaps — but with the temperament of a snake that, once it bit, never let go. She was not the sort to assault a palace without reason. She had some urgent cause to seek them out. And that cause, in all likelihood, had everything to do with Randolph.

Serengeti rose to her feet.

"I should go."

She made for the palace entrance — and there, in the middle of a scene of carnage with hundreds sprawled across the ground, stood Isabella. Her face was set like a demon's. Serengeti had never seen that expression on her before, and tension coiled through her. In a worst-case scenario, she might have to subdue her.

"Isabella. What in the world is this?"

Isabella turned her head and looked at Serengeti. The hardness in her face did not ease. Serengeti understood why a moment later.

"…Lord Randolph has vanished."

That single sentence was enough.

The Balan Kingdom was turned upside down. The phrase was no exaggeration. Whether something had pricked his conscience or not, the King of Balan treated Isabella — the very woman who had stormed his palace — as an honored guest of the highest rank, and threw every resource he had into the search for Randolph. Every gate connected to the capital was sealed. Wanted notices went out. Still, Randolph could not be found.

"Lord Randolph has disappeared?"

"…I'll help as well."

Isabella, Serengeti, Saintess Seia, Isera and Lucaria, Hudson, and even the elf Auryll — all of them moved at once, throwing themselves into the hunt for Randolph. And so a wind began to rise. The small whirlwind that started in the Balan Kingdom showed every sign of swelling into a great typhoon.

Karas… that damned bastard.

Raiga, commander of the Eight Houses Knights, stood outside the tower and stared up at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its heights. Martial God Karas had used his authority as master of the tower to cast him out.

Shall I write it down for you?

That single line still rang in his ears — the offer to fill in the missing portions of the Sutra of Life and Death. The one who had promised to fulfill the long-held wish of the Eight Houses was now on the eleventh floor of the tower.

Raiga could not keep still.

…I can't enter. Entry itself has been sealed. Until this trial ends, no one can leave and no one can go in.

Damn it all!

Hyun of Adrium. No matter how remarkable the boy was, the restructured Tower of the War God was an unknown. From the eleventh floor onward, there was no telling what awaited. Could he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠truly make it back alive?

Please… just come back alive…!

Had he ever yearned for anyone this desperately before? If any challenger so much as brushed a hair on Hyun of Adrium's head, Raiga would tear them to shreds — but for now there was nothing he could do. And contrary to his hopes, the boy's chances of returning alive were slim. Against a thousand geniuses trapped in the tower with him, Hyun of Adrium was still far too weak.

The eleventh floor of the tower. The thousand who had been forcibly transported all stared at the messages floating before their eyes.

"Interesting."

"What are these rules?"

"If I kill everyone, do I win?"

The board had been completely rewritten. Yet few were truly rattled. Everyone gathered here had once been hailed as a genius. Adapting to change came naturally to them.

A restructured tower. Restructured rules.

This was a hundred and eighty degrees from climbing the tower as Randolph. There had been no rules like these back then. Equal Struggle. The name claimed equality, but the conditions were massively unfair. The only thing truly equal was the three hundred ability points.

Class, skills, equipment, tools, connections… It's a structure that forces you to use everything you have.

You needed to distribute your points to make the most of what you already possessed. You had to know yourself well — and think carefully about how your body would move and adapt when it suddenly grew weaker or stronger. And even if you prepared for everything, one thing mattered more than the rest.

Not being alone.

…A thousand people will clash all at once.

There were no other rules. The fighting would continue without end until a hundred had fallen. This was a game of building "your side" before the free-for-all began. Whoever gathered more people — and stronger people — would win. The struggle would keep going all the way to the fifteenth floor.

"Mercenaries of Cartel, assemble!"

"Descendants of the Sun! Let us stand together!"

"The Dercian never fall!"

The quick-witted ones were already moving. By city, by nation, by organization — they raised their voices as high as they could, scrambling to pull in even one more person. This was war. A miniature of a thousand wars fought at once. Alliances and grudges between cities and nations, strength and weakness — every one of those factors was in play in this free-for-all.

Unite or die.

Everyone was thinking the same thing. They had already been sorted and gathered by city, after all. Forming groups was easy. The real fight was over who formed them faster. With stats roughly equalized, pulling in even one more person within thirty minutes was what mattered most. The smaller groups would be the first to be swallowed. Isolation meant becoming prey.

And the one most perfectly set up for isolation was me.

"…"

"…"

The stares around me. I had already drawn far too much attention. The sole participant from the Warrior Tournament. The first to master the Sutra of Life and Death, coming within a hair of winning Raiga's full favor.

A mere Level 4 dares to surpass me?

Hyun of Adrium? Some nobody with no status and no rank, cutting ahead of me into Lord Raiga's good graces?

If that one just disappears, I can start over.

That thing is supposed to be a greater genius than me?

…Those murderous looks alone told me everything about the hostility aimed my way. More than a few made no effort to hide their killing intent. There was nowhere that would take me in. Accepting me would mean instant attack from every other group. Before the trial had even begun, I belonged nowhere — adrift.

I was isolated.