The Star of the Beheaded
He had intended to locate the warp linked to Labyrinth City and conquer it swiftly.
But the White King intervened.
He issued an official proclamation to every city.
Touch it, and I will turn it into a sea of fire.
A complete madman—yet the one making the threat was the White King.
If it was the White King, he was allowed to say such things.
“Damn it. To think it fell under the White King’s faction.”
Master clicked his tongue.
Not Phantom Randolph, but the Fifth Lord serving under the White King.
It could be a mere namesake, yet somehow his breath caught in his throat.
“Could Phantom have altered his appearance?”
“Would that even be possible? Not unless he changed his species entirely.”
Simply disguising himself as a monster would never fool the White King.
The White King was known to possess foresight of the future.
One who could see events far ahead would never fail to recognize a human.
And what of Medusa?
Therefore, mere cosmetic change could never place a name upon the seat of the Fifth Lord.
“So it’s truly just a namesake? Same name and nothing more?”
“That is my belief.”
“Is there a skill or item capable of changing species itself?”
“Even a top-grade appearance transformation potion cannot alter race, so no, I would think not.”
“What about a Hidden Trait?”
Hidden Traits.
Among those revealed thus far, one related to species did exist.
The man who recalled it spoke.
“Are you referring to Glutton?”
“Yes. With Glutton, it might be possible.”
“Glutton has been concluded the most useless of all Hidden Traits. It grants monster characteristics, yet the host can never survive the poison and mental contamination······.”
“The opponent is Phantom. If it is Phantom, it might still be possible.”
“Even a Transcendent’s body cannot endure it—that was the firm conclusion. No matter that it is Phantom, what method could there be?”
Glutton was a Hidden Trait that permitted bodily transformation and the acquisition of monster traits.
Yet its restrictions were so severe that properly utilizing the ability was impossible.
In short, a “trash Hidden Trait.”
The most worthless among every Hidden Trait known.
The man added,
“Moreover, even Glutton cannot change species itself. It merely allows one to gain a few monster features.”
“······ Right. That was it.”
Master nodded.
Then was it truly only the same name?
The matter had been tested dozens—hundreds—of times.
This conclusion could not be wrong.
Glutton had been definitively labeled a trash Hidden Trait.
Master rubbed his brow.
“As if my head isn’t already complicated enough because of that bitch Kim Hana.”
“Shall we send a warning?”
“No. Leave her be. The assassination squad still needs reorganizing, so we’ll simply have to bury the article appropriately.”
The entire assassination squad had gone after Randolph and been buried in the Abyss.
A painful loss.
They had yet to recover from it.
Then a sudden thought struck him, and Master spoke.
“The ‘Special Auction’ proceeding in the Empire is being prepared without setbacks, correct?”
“Yes. Do not worry.”
“It must be prepared thoroughly. Only then can we recover the losses.”
To recoup everything they had suffered so far, they needed strong results at the Special Auction.
Held once a year within the Empire, the Special Auction admitted only those bearing invitations—invitations that even rulers of ordinary cities rarely received.
The chosen few gathered and bid astronomical sums.
It operated on a level utterly different from any player auction house.
Handled well, connections with imperial nobles might even form.
An auction one had to enter with life on the line.
“How much gold do you expect to gather before the auction?”
“Around one hundred million gold seems feasible.”
“Raise it to two hundred million gold. Even if it means selling every relic from the ruins.”
“Will that be all right?”
“This is the first invitation the Empire has ever extended. I must imprint my capabilities without question.”
Among players, as far as anyone knew, it was the first.
The first to receive an invitation to the Empire’s Special Auction.
Therefore it had to be driven home with absolute clarity.
A golden opportunity. If I can only forge ties with imperial nobles, climbing higher will be nothing.
Should that succeed, every loss could be recovered and results beyond imagination achieved.
This chance could never be allowed to slip away.
Crack!
Master clenched his fist with crushing force.
“······.”
Hudson’s vision went dark.
No—his vision was dyed entirely in gold.
-How about it? The treasures this body has gathered across an entire lifetime!
Before Hudson, Greed planted both hands on his hips and flaunted the sight.
Endless mountains of gold and silver treasure.
“S-so you’re saying Lord Randolph has taken all of this?”
-······ Yes. Now it all belongs to Him.
Yet Greed’s shoulders soon sagged.
He had collected for a lifetime only to lose every gamble and surrender everything to Randolph.
Hudson’s eyes spun.
Old Empire coinage and treasures linked to the Old Empire.
“At least one billion gold······.”
His head began to whirl as well.
Dispose of everything here and the minimum would be one billion gold.
Handled well, he might fetch more than one point three billion.
The problem was how to liquidate such a volume.
-Still, it is fine! I can gather again. I contracted with Him for twenty percent. This labyrinth holds many treasures······.
Greed spoke in a voice that sounded like forced self-consolation, tinged with sorrow.
Born within the Abyss Labyrinth, Greed could never leave it.
In exchange for guarding the labyrinth, he had struck a pact with Randolph: twenty percent of every treasure Greed himself discovered inside would be his.
Only twenty percent?
Hudson crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully.
Guarding the labyrinth and hunting the treasures himself, yet only twenty percent.
Still, Hudson held his tongue.
Handling the treasure was far more urgent.
I’ll have to stop by the Golden City of Arcana.
Aside from the Empire, only Arcana could absorb this quantity.
Pit the City Council and the major players against one another and they would digest it without difficulty.
Hudson’s resolve ignited.
My connections in Arcana are still intact. Reclaim the casino, launder some funds. Summon the finest warp engineers and construct additional warps inside the labyrinth······.
There was much to do.
All of it entrusted to him by Randolph.
Yet he felt no burden whatsoever.
Only gratitude.
I will make this labyrinth the greatest city. A scale no one can touch—the largest upon the earth. And then I will confess to Serengeti.
His heart raced.
No more hesitation was needed.
The moment Serengeti awoke, he would confess at once.
Therefore, before she woke, every task had to be finished as thoroughly as possible.
First objective: sell the treasures and set the money to work.
A perfect chance to show Lord Randolph my true ability.
He could not disappoint the man who had trusted him with everything.
This time he would truly prove useful!
Light kindled in Hudson’s eyes.
After Randolph departed for the Mountain of the Cultivator, Isabella finished her own preparations to leave.
-Lord Randolph. Please grant me leave to travel alone to the desert city of Faisalmer.
-With the queen dead, I am the sole legitimate successor.
Snake Princess. She had hated that name, yet no longer.
The Desert Queen was dead.
The master of the desert city Faisalmer.
Now the only one qualified to rule it was Isabella herself.
Should Isabella become mistress of the desert city, it could also be designated the labyrinth’s third warp connection.
This, too, must be my destiny.
Kidnapped in childhood, she had become the Snake Princess.
Then she met Randolph and witnessed the Desert Queen’s death with her own eyes.
If she remained still here, she would mark time forever.
Now was the moment to advance.
Thus she would surely become master of the desert city.
Of course it would not be easy.
I will return.
Isabella set out for the desert city.
“Huk! Heok!”
Isaac screamed and bolted upright.
He clutched his throat and exhaled a long breath.
His entire body was already soaked through.
“Damn nightmare.”
Lately Isaac had been plagued by continuous nightmares.
A dream of being chased by someone.
In the end his head was severed and he died.
They had continued without pause ever since he left Kramdel.
“Who is hunting me?”
Randolph had denied it, yet Isaac remained uneasy.
Even though his evil karma had been erased and he could freely walk the city, he could not easily step outside.
He had decided to remain at Marquis Weiser’s estate until Labyrinth City stabilized, yet even here the anxiety never left him.
“I can’t stand this restlessness any longer.”
In the end Isaac headed outdoors.
A walk somewhere empty of people might settle his mind.
He followed a narrow forest path and kept walking.
How long had it been?
“······ Stop following me and show yourself.”
The moment he left the estate, someone had attached themselves to him.
So stealthy that at first he took them for an assassin.
Yet even after he offered several openings, no attack came.
“So you finally found me.”
A man stepped out from behind a tree.
He wore a white cloak; white ivory-like horns rose from his forehead.
Wherever skin showed, it was covered in dense tattoos.
Isaac drew a dagger from his coat.
“Who are you?”
“I am a Star Seeker.”
“······ A Star Seeker?”
“You possess the qualifications and have found me. Therefore, challenge the star.”
“How am I supposed to believe you are a Star Seeker?”
Randolph, too, was a Star Seeker.
Yet the man before him felt somehow different.
“Have you not been tormented every night by nightmares of being chased and beheaded?”
“······.”
“It is a signal sent by the star that granted you those qualifications. The ‘Star of the Beheaded.’”
“There’s a star with a name like that?”
“Ah, there most certainly is.”
Something about the Star Seeker reeked of a con artist.
Yet if he truly was a Star Seeker, this was an opportunity.
Every Transcendent possessed absurd power.
Even Serengeti felt utterly beyond his ability to defeat.
If he could consume a star and grow stronger, he would no longer need to fear being hunted.
Besides, Randolph, Isabella, and Saintess Seia had all departed.
Hudson was buried in selling the treasures and managing the labyrinth.
Everyone was attending to their own duties.
Everyone except Isaac.
“How long does challenging a star take?”
“Hard to say. As little as a month; as long as no guarantee at all.”
“Fine. I’ll finish it within two weeks.”
“······ That confidence is excellent.”
“Let’s go. Lead the way.”
It was all or nothing now.
At Isaac’s bravado the Star Seeker replied,
“Follow me, you who receive the guidance of the ‘Star of the Beheaded.’”
God of Proficiency
Warps leading to the Mountain of the Cultivator connected to five cities in total.
All were neutral cities belonging to no faction, places where cultivators completed their final preparations before departure.
One of them was the mercenary city of Cartel.
“Have a drink! Another drink!”
“Aisha, business going well?”
“Uweeeek!”
Upon arriving in Cartel, sweat-reeking mercenaries staggered through the streets already drunk.
“Everyone’s plastered, aren’t they~?”
Saintess Seia, face veiled, remarked.
Indeed.
Strange.
Far too many mercenaries were drunk in broad daylight.
Mercenaries always carried the image of living for drink and women, yet the mercenaries of Cartel at least took their commissions seriously.
As long as work existed, they never drank from morning.
To reach the Mountain of the Cultivator I need a guide.
Odd as it was, obtaining a guide mercenary left no choice but to come here.
Guiding parties to the Mountain of the Cultivator was one of Cartel’s primary sources of income.
The entrance shifted location every time, and the path was treacherous; without a guide it was nearly impossible to find.
I entered the largest mercenary guild standing at the city’s heart.
“Welcome! What sort of mercenary are you seeking?”
A female receptionist known as the flower of the guild came out to greet us at the entrance.
The interior ran like a pub; mercenaries drank or gambled here and there.
Yet something still felt wrong.
A guild of this scale should have a receptionist at the peak of haughtiness—yet she was greeting arrivals at the door.
······ Perhaps there was no work?
“I’m looking for a guide.”
“Ah! You’ve come to the right place! Rough seas? Cliffs that plunge into darkness? Unknown forests where monsters may strike from behind at any moment? Anywhere is fine. Our guild possesses skilled mercenaries who can guide you to any corner of the world!”
“I need a guide to the Mountain of the Cultivator.”
“······ The Mountain of the Cultivator?”
The receptionist’s expression froze.
The surrounding mercenaries did the same.
“Is there a crazy bastard heading to the Mountain of the Cultivator at a time like this?”
“Tsk. First client in ages and I got my hopes up.”
“Must not have heard the rumors.”
“Damn. Another wasted day.”
The reaction was anything but ordinary.