The Three Paths and the Refused Choice

The Constellation's Game, [Laika]

Weeeing—!

With a crisp chime, brilliant white radiance erupted around Leo. A cascade of notifications followed, one after another.

Breathless yet glowing with exhilaration, Leo stared at the completion message. This was the 1st Advancement quest — the trial players called the First Gate. The kind of quest that ordinarily took five, ten attempts before anyone could clear it, and he had cleared it in a single try. No wonder his chest was swelling.

'If I pulled this off... then my talent isn't so bad after all, right?'

The truth was, Leo had been feeling rather small lately. Ever since he'd started playing alongside Dave, doubt had crept into every corner of his confidence. The more they fought together, the clearer it became: a wall. Not a wall of effort or technique — something effort could never overcome. A wall of raw, unbridgeable talent.

'Hyung-nim keeps saying he has no talent at all, but...'

Ironically, if Dave had ever so much as flexed, it might have stung less. If Leo could just write him off as some freak of nature, an out-of-spec player, he could have made peace with it. But Dave insisted, like a broken record, that he was a talentless player — and the maddening thing was, he clearly believed it.

Hearing that, how was Leo supposed to feel? Not inadequate? The spiral was inevitable: If a guy like that has no talent, then what does that make me? And this person actually charged off declaring he'd become a ranker... Thoughts like those drained his confidence without him even noticing.

'But now I know for sure. Hyung-nim is a Certified Genius Freak.'

Luckily, Leo wasn't a fool. As the days passed, it had dawned on him that Dave's talk of being talentless was just humility (perhaps of the aggressive variety). And so Leo came to respect him.

Because if he had never met Dave, he would still be that kid flailing around shouting about becoming a ranker on nothing but a scrap of mediocre talent. 'Meeting hyung-nim was honestly the luckiest thing that ever happened to me.'

Besides, Dave was generous to a fault. He shared high-grade intel that any other player would have guarded like a dragon hoards gold, and he kept offering pointers on swordsmanship whenever the moment allowed.

"Aw, you should've committed harder on that lunge."

"See? When you play it that timid, the enemy's attack range opens right up."

"So in a moment like this, you just — swish — whack. Okay?"

"That's what I mean when I say there's no need to fall back."

From Dave's perspective, it was probably just nagging to shave a minute off the clear time. But to Leo, every word of it landed like a masterclass.

'So as long as I follow hyung-nim's lead... I can pull my own weight just fine.'

The dream of becoming a ranker? He didn't even let himself dream it anymore. Rankers were a realm reserved for players with, at minimum, Dave-level talent. So he would simply chase that shadow with everything he had. It would be a little sad, he thought, if his level fell behind and he could no longer keep up.

Heart pounding, Leo opened the results window — and his fist clenched before he could stop it.

'Tempest Blader...? It really went exactly the way hyung-nim said it would?'

As expected of hyung-nim. Hidden class intel that didn't show up anywhere on the awakened community forums, handed over free of charge like it was nothing.

'Is this... for real?'

From what he'd heard, a standard 1st advancement for a swordsman class capped out at around 20% across the board plus 15% attack power. Checking these absurd, off-the-charts bonuses, Leo's admiration for Dave hyung-nim bloomed all over again like flowers in spring.

"Haah...!"

He wanted to sprint to a hunting ground that very second and start swinging. He was still entertaining the thought when Lumiel approached.

"Congratulations. You have been reborn as a true Voyager."

"Thank you."

"Someday, when you return to this place once more... may the sincerity carried within that blade still shine with the same light."

The moment Lumiel finished speaking, a pale blue-white current of air rippled along his fingertips. The ribbon of light wove across the space like threads of silk, and Leo's vision flooded white once more. Then, a short while later—

Ring—!

At long last, Leo had arrived on the continent.

Now then. The Seeker's Altar quest I'm currently running is built around three broad phases. Phase one is simple: survival. Here at the Plain of the Forgotten — the entrance to the Pilgrim's Ruins — you endure against endlessly respawning monsters. For how long? Until the Compass item drops. That's the first gate.

Ring—!

Normally, if the drop rate had been rigged against me, this would have eaten up an enormous chunk of time... but it dropped in about thirty minutes. Decent luck today, I'd say.

The reason the drop marks the end of Phase 1 is simple: without it, you can't find the second location, the Valley of Silence.

The item's info window is written all cryptic and mystical, but at the end of the day it just means: follow the needle. Not that I needed the hint — I already knew this golden needle was engineered to always point toward the final destination, the Seeker's Altar. The field is laid out so that reaching the Altar means passing through the Valley of Silence no matter what, so follow this heading and everything resolves itself. 'The single act of kindness in this entire hostile quest.'

The Constellation's question was a sharp one, but I shook my head right away. Unfortunately, no. If that were an option, I'd have skipped Phase 1 the moment the farming was done and headed straight for the Valley of Silence.

Whoever designed this place, the Pilgrim's Ruins is a field where memorizing the route is next to impossible. This random-gacha-cursed layout rerolls the position of every single structure each time you enter. From the farming items all the way to the quest's first rewards — nearly every element is randomized. The 'Seeker's Altar' was, in essence, a quest drunk on gacha.

"So, ladies and gentlemen — you have to grab this item to move on to the next phase. Everyone following?"

With my friendly explanation delivered, satisfied reactions rippled through the chat.

I can't say I know exactly why, but Constellations absolutely adore the hidden intel I carry. It's not like they can put it to use themselves right this moment, either. So from my perspective... as long as I don't show them everything in my wallet, there's zero reason not to make use of my knowledge. Why?

Because it pays!

And I suspect that's exactly why my viewer count keeps climbing steadily, day after day.

Hmm. These beings aren't even players — what do they need game information for, exactly?

'Will it just come out naturally with time?'

Anyway. Compass in hand, I arrived at the Valley of Silence, and Phase 2 began. And this second phase has the single simplest keyword of them all: breakthrough.

Kugung— Kugugung—!

Dart through the space between those menacingly towering rock walls and cover the distance as fast as humanly possible. That's the key to Phase 2.

"Right, folks — we're moving through this part quickly!"

"It's just a place where you dodge stuff and run. That's it."

Now, to be fair, this was a field where sinister traps lurked around every bend of the canyon, and a genuinely annoying mob called the Ruin Specter sniped at you from range the moment you let your guard down. But—

Taat—!

For me, this was the easiest phase of the three. What do I mean by that?

"Here, you just duck down low like so to dodge!"

Piing—

Shwaaaak—!!

"And from here on, you don't touch the ground."

Kugugung—!

"Because the floor collapses in chunks like that."

The trap patterns in this Valley of Silence are the one and only section of this quest that isn't random gacha. So I simply ran on muscle memory—

Tat— tadat—!

—and, purely on instinct, cleared it. Just like that.

And so, what — about ten minutes later?

Ring—!

At long last, the message I'd been waiting for appeared before my eyes.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠system message announcing that the final third phase — the Hall of Truth — had opened.

In other words, these choices work on the same principle as the five options in the Voyager of the Firmament quest. Like the Voyager equipment selection, they don't blatantly lock in your class direction — but I know that when the final class gacha rolls, these choices nudge the odds one way or another.

And yet...

Unlike the Voyager of the Firmament quest... here, apparently, there's a way to choose nothing at all.

"Well then, Lord of Gold — this is what you were hoping for, isn't it?"

So, Lord of Gold, hyung-nim.

Your LP balance... you'd better start topping it up. Right about now?