True Glory

The strongest man on Earth, Gracia, walked a late-evening street in Eunpyeong District.

Several buildings still lay in ruins where the Giant Mantis had torn through them. This was also the place where the Hydragon had appeared.

"We don't know each other."

During the interview, reporter Kim Hana had answered without hesitation. She claimed she had no connection to the Hydragon's master.

In the end, Gracia had no choice but to come to the scene himself.

I have to find it.

What he sought was not Phantom. He was hunting the player said to have once held the Hydragon's soul back in Pangenia.

No—more precisely, he was hunting the Hydragon's soul itself.

I must find it and reclaim the Hydragon's soul.

A golden haze shimmered and surged upward. His entire body, now fully manifested, crackled with pale mist and electricity. In the next instant, thousands of swords materialized in the air and arranged themselves in perfect order—every last one a masterpiece worthy of being called a treasure.

With a sweep of his hand, the thousands of blades began to whirl through the empty sky. Gracia seized one of them.

The True Abyss Tracker's Sword.

Where the title "Extreme" related to mastery or limit-breaking options, the title "True" maximized an item's unique special properties. The Abyss Tracker's Sword had been torn from one of the Abyss's overlords and then refined to the absolute limit, elevating its very grade. Because of that, the blade could pierce even Safe Zones and track any target.

Of course, it still needed a clue—hair, a fingernail, something of the sort. The more concrete the clue, the farther and more precisely it could hunt.

Wish Orb.

An orange sphere marked with a white star floated into the air. This too had been taken from a Imugi slain on the very brink of becoming a true dragon. It granted its user's wish by materializing that desire as concretely as possible. Simple, trivial wishes it fulfilled with certainty; anything complex—or anything that might become complex—it could not fully realize. Instantly killing a Level 10 or lower target standing right in front of you, for example: that sort of simple "wish" the treasure could handle without trouble.

Recharging a single wish took a full month, but this was no time to be thrifty.

"Find everything in this area connected to the man in this photograph."

Gracia drew from his coat a photo of the man presumed to be the Hydragon's master. His plan was to use the Wish Orb to locate evidence, then plant that evidence into the True Abyss Tracker's Sword and hunt the target down.

The Wish Orb flared crimson—then burst with a sharp pop.

Stars shot out of the shattered orb and began spinning in lazy circles through the surrounding air.

"Hmm…"

No matter how long he waited, the stars found nothing. Yet this was the very scene of the incident. Even the tiniest scrap of evidence should have appeared—footprints, at the very least. For a wish this simple to yield absolutely nothing was extremely unusual.

He wasn't a Transcendent who had consumed a Star…

When the target of a wish was a Transcendent, the Wish Orb could not so much as touch a single strand of hair. But Gracia could tell the difference between those who had transcended and those who had not. From the footage, the Hydragon's master had clearly not yet transcended.

If someone who was not a Transcendent still fell outside the Wish Orb's reach, it meant they were avoiding detection by some other method.

An ultra-high-grade skill that blocks tracking… or privileges similar to a Guardian Wall.

The odds of either ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were vanishingly small. No one trained a tracking-evasion skill all the way to the highest grade just to dodge random pursuers. Privileges that granted "immunity" to everything below a certain level, like a Guardian Wall, were the same. And even a Guardian Wall topped out at Level 10. To escape the Wish Orb entirely required transcendence—unless the wall itself had somehow reached Level 11, which was impossible.

He had spent a precious Wish Orb and still found not a single speck of dust.

…If I simply erase all of Eunpyeong District, the bastard will show himself.

Gracia's eyes turned cold and bleak.

That was the moment.

Gracia's brow furrowed. The message never appeared unless the rankings actually changed. And lately he had already seen this exact notice four times.

The culprit was only one person.

"…Phantom."

Randolph. That bastard was Phantom—no question. No one else could drag him down the rankings like this, over and over.

Question marks?

The score was strange. ??? pts. He had never seen a score displayed that way. Was the total so high it could no longer even be confirmed? How many points did you need before the system just threw up question marks?

Just what the hell are you doing out there?

Then came the sound of bells—ding, ding!

Gracia turned. Skeleton reapers in black cloaks, scythes in hand, were approaching through the air, ringing jet-black bells.

"…To chase me all the way outside Pangenia. Looks like the Rift is about to open."

Reapers. Persistent bastards that hunted Players to kill them. Until now they had only appeared inside Pangenia; now they were invading reality itself. The influence of the coming Rift, no doubt.

Gracia pressed his palms together.

A vast pillar of light roared into existence as thousands of swords fused into one.

Serengeti closed her eyes again. The Demon King's vicious curse had begun to reassert itself.

Hudson gripped her hand to the very end. Beside them, Marquis Weiser watched the pair with an expression of pure, complicated turmoil.

"…Hah."

He could not put the feeling into words. He had heard it straight from Serengeti's own mouth—that she had already held a secret engagement ceremony with this utterly unimpressive-looking fellow. For a moment he had nearly clutched the back of his neck and collapsed.

"My lord Marquis. Stabilizing a newly constructed warp will require at least five million gold."

Hudson's eyes gleamed. This was a dead end; there was nowhere left to retreat.

"You're telling me to sell Serengeti for twenty million gold?"

"Didn't you already try to sell her to Duke Scien?"

"That matter is finished. It cannot be undone. If Duke Scien learns of this, you will vanish without a trace—no one will ever find the body."

The promise to Duke Scien had already been made. The duke, who ruled three great cities, was second only to the king in power. A merchant with a bit of money could never stand against him. And if the secret engagement came to light, even Marquis Weiser's own safety—and that of this entire city—could no longer be guaranteed.

"Is Maxim under the duke?"

I cut into their argument. Completely different subject, but still.

Hudson answered.

"You mean Maxim of the 8 Heroes?"

"Yes."

"At present he has inherited one of Duke Scien's territories and is receiving succession training."

Maxim?

He's moved up in the world.

Calling himself one of the 8 Heroes while taking succession lessons from Duke Scien. Master of a great city—what higher station could there be?

A mere mercenary, now lord of a great city.

And not just any mercenary. Maxim had been the leader of the mercenary company I hired during the Great Expedition. I paid him a fortune, and he was the first to run. That same trash now strutted around as one of the 8 Heroes, caught Duke Scien's eye, and had become ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠master of a great city. The whole situation was almost too ridiculous to believe.

I still don't understand the criteria for the 8 Heroes.

Was it ranked by who fled first? Yet Gracia was also counted among them. Gracia had never even participated in the Great Expedition. If he had, I would have known—he had been my absolute top recruitment priority. I still wanted to cut off the wrist that had sent love-calls to a man I thought was a Named NPC.

Even so, Gracia openly called himself one of the 8 Heroes—even in the real world. Was he trying to provoke me?

Or maybe he's hoping I'll show myself.

I would never believe that nonsense about joining hands and "cooperating." During my entire time playing as Wilhelm, Gracia's path had never once overlapped with mine. That meant he had deliberately avoided me. And the moment Wilhelm died, that same Gracia started spouting garbage. He talked about cooperation, but the odds that he simply wanted to crush—or kill—a brand-new Player like me were more than high enough.

Bastards who desecrated Wilhelm's achievements and the glory that should have been shared with the great knights. The first to flee the Great Expedition and men who never even joined it, of all people. If it had been the five hundred knights enshrined on the memorial stone, I would have understood. I would have been content even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if Wilhelm's name never appeared among that glory.

They are bastards who must inevitably be crushed.

No matter how I looked at it—even granting a hundred, a thousand concessions—the fact that they needed crushing never changed.

And the softest target among them is Maxim.

Of the 8 Heroes, Maxim was the most worthless.

I slowly turned my back and headed for the door. Hudson called after me.

"Where are you going, sir?"

"I am going to hold a proper memorial service."

"Pardon?"

"The five hundred knights. Compensate each of their families with ten thousand gold."

"…Me?"

"A servant's money is his master's money."

"That's not—wait, what?"

Was that how it worked? Hudson was left speechless by the casual way I spoke, as if I had already deposited the funds with him. But what could he do?

The man had already walked out. There was nothing more to say. And Hudson had made certain promises of his own.

"…They fought bravely. Back to back, they never yielded a single step against the savage demonkin."

Before the memorial stone, the people of the city had gathered for the service. I lifted an old book.

"This is a journal left by the Knight King. It records everything concerning the Great Expedition. He wrote down, without omitting a single character, the greatness of every knight whose name is carved here."

A journal left by the Knight King. Of course no such thing existed.

"James, Noah, Lucas, Jacob…"

I recited the five hundred names in order. Without a single exception, every one of them was committed to memory and spoken aloud.

"…and Sion. Their glory must be passed down to future generations. The true heroes are not those who call themselves the 8 Heroes. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The true heroes are these men—who quietly held their ground even when no one acknowledged them."

"Sion…!"

An old woman clutched her chest and wept. May—the woman I had carried to the shelter. To a mother who still could not accept her son's death, I had coldly delivered the truth.

"As the Knight King's successor, I offer my respects to their glorious deaths. For the eternal rest of heroes the likes of which will never come again, I will bury them forever in my heart."

I bowed deeply toward the memorial stone.

And yet—what was this ache in my chest?

James, Noah, Lucas, Jacob, Sion…

Once more I repeated the five hundred names, one by one, carving them deep into my mind.

"It was good to see you again, my friend!"

"Next time I'll come visit you."

"Haha! A friend is always welcome!"

I quickly saw off the High Dryad and the dryads. Even after only a single day in the city they looked half-starved, as if they might drop dead at any moment.

The next day, after sending the dryads off through the Teleport Book, I finally turned my attention to the newly appeared privileges.

Two commands that let me buy things. I opened the lower one—the Golden Rule Shop.

A shop where you could purchase things using Broken Fragments of the Golden Rule!

A hundred and forty hours…

Thanks to the Large Fragment obtained by completing Main Quest 4, my remaining time had soared well past a hundred hours. I couldn't spend it all, but it would be a lie to say I wasn't excited about what I might be able to buy.

I focused hard on the Golden Rule Shop listings.

"Cough! Ghk!"

The moment I saw the list, I choked. For a second I doubted my own eyes.

Why is that here…?