Chapter 128
Chapter 128
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 128
Chapter Title: Ripe for Betrayal
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Two days later.
A mountain path not far from Daimarit, after crossing the border between Mangul and Danyeom.
"Something's off."
Jangwan muttered to himself as he looked down at his Mangul forces.
"Something's definitely wrong."
The 24,000-strong Mangul army was still marching through the night.
Eight thousand of them were kobolds, nocturnal creatures with excellent night vision and minimal sleep needs.
To overcome their small stature and limited carrying capacity, they had to leverage these advantages, which naturally extended their average marching time.
"We'll arrive tomorrow..."
Jangwan had initially suspected only AR1026, but now Krampus and Runda seemed suspicious too.
"Am I really being played by Choi Seong-un? Or is it all just my imagination?"
Still, Jangwan believed the evidence he'd gathered was sufficient to suggest Seong-un had pulled some strings, even if it fell short of proving AR1026 was a traitor.
"What went wrong?"
Jangwan figured at least one of the other two would agree with him.
He had no intention of intimidating AR1026 over his suspicions.
By methodically investigating with the information he had, he could check for inconsistencies and gauge just how suspicious AR1026 really was.
"Though I know I can't completely clear him either."
As long as AR1026 didn't make any major blunders in battle, that would suffice.
For instance, placing AR1026's Golden Eye forces in the rear during a siege around Daimarit.
If AR1026 was a traitor positioned at the rear during the siege, they would suffer a devastating defeat from a pincer attack, despite their numerical advantage.
"All he had to do was avoid a mistake like that..."
Jangwan reflected on his own behavior.
He hadn't shown his trusted comrade in a good light, thanks to his agitation.
"Maybe pushing AR that hard was the mistake. Did it backfire on me?"
Jangwan clicked his tongue.
"There are other possibilities too."
It was Wisdom who brought up another scenario.
"'What if Choi Seong-un went to all that trouble just to make one of the Five Alliance members suspect betrayal?'"
It complicated things, but it wasn't impossible.
In this case, there was no real traitor—just an illusion of one to sow internal distrust, allowing Seong-un to profit while they turned on each other.
It seemed plausible enough.
"But what good is that on the eve of battle? It might work in a prolonged war."
Jangwan wasn't convinced, and Wisdom agreed.
Wisdom seemed busy raising his apostle in secret—even hiding it from the other allies—while strengthening Asbestos's internal unity and mustering troops.
The first expeditionary force had departed late, but the second was set to mobilize alongside the others.
For that reason, Jangwan's conversation with Wisdom hadn't resolved his doubts much.
"Just to sow confusion, then."
Jangwan saw it as an uncharacteristically sloppy ploy from Seong-un.
"Or maybe a smokescreen?"
If AR1026 wasn't the real traitor, Jangwan reasoned, Seong-un might be using it to conceal a bigger scheme.
"Right. There might already be a traitor among us."
Jangwan himself was obviously not the traitor.
Wisdom had the lowest odds.
If he were truly colluding with Seong-un, there'd be no need for this elaborate pretense of non-alliance.
He could simply announce the partnership and use diplomacy to fracture the others.
His faction was that powerful.
That's why Jangwan had sacrificed priests to create an apostle for Wisdom.
Krampus was also unlikely.
Jangwan had suspected him initially for so readily ceding Daimarit, but upon reflection, it wasn't an issue.
Even Jangwan himself might have made the same "best choice" mistake.
Rather than any scheme from Seong-un, it just seemed like bad luck diverging from Krampus's expectations.
Runda didn't seem any more likely.
"No real connection, right?"
Though Heuklin shared a border with Yeokgwa, the barren wasteland there meant many caravans preferred Danyeom despite higher taxes.
If anything, their lack of ties felt suspicious.
"Let's assume? Is there zero chance Runda's the traitor?"
There was no reason to assume that.
Secret alliances could form for any number of reasons.
Jangwan himself had a direct connection with Nebula—outside the game, no less.
The only difference was he knew Seong-un's nickname, Nebula, while Seong-un likely didn't know his, Jangwan.
"So, if Runda is the traitor, what problems arise?"
This line of thought made Jangwan dizzy.
"Could it be something big?"
He recalled what happened after accusing AR1026.
If Runda truly saw AR1026 as a threat, he'd volunteered his forces to monitor him.
Since the armies were set to merge just before battle anyway, it was merely advancing the timeline—nothing odd.
AR1026 had also agreed readily if it cleared his name, so now Runda's 20,000 Yeokgwa troops were joined with AR1026's 18,000 Golden Eye forces.
The numbers were a bit short, but Krampus's 2,000 Danyeom rebels had merged in too.
If Runda was the traitor, he could ambush both units.
"But..."
Jangwan found it hard to imagine.
Even setting aside the low likelihood, it didn't seem catastrophic.
Runda had joined under the pretext of surveilling AR1026, so the reverse applied too.
"If Runda moves, AR and Krampus will respond."
Of course, a coordinated strike with Heuklin could be dangerous, but there was a fatal flaw.
"People's convictions don't change overnight."
Mangeol, the god of Yeokgwa and Renar—Runda's deity—would order his priests to kill Heuklin's leader without hesitation.
But ordering them to kill Golden Eye's leader? They'd be puzzled.
An ally nation, after all.
Much less ordering ordinary believers—not even priests—to kill Golden Eye soldiers instead of Heuklin's on the eve of war.
It would sow massive confusion.
Obey the god and betray the alliance, or protect the alliance and defy the god?
In Lost World, controlling entities meant accounting for that.
Each had their own will.
Align it properly, and they'd follow divine intent; ignore it completely, and they wouldn't.
Some would heed a betrayal oracle, but others would waver or disobey.
"Well, there are exceptions."
Jangwan thought of Wisdom and his apostle.
To ease his worries, he refocused on his pre-war tasks.
'The worldview must always be ripe for overturning.'
When Runda first saw that line, he thought it a bit grandiose for a Lost World strategy post title.
Still, intrigued, he clicked it.
Despite the provocative title, the content made him scoff.
The post detailed how mastering betrayal in Lost World led to victory and the efforts required.
Comments were half vitriol against the author's playstyle, half defenses.
The post got buried without fair appraisal.
Runda forgot it quickly.
Then, mid-game, he found himself in a tricky spot: central continent start, scant resources, squeezed between powerhouses.
Pursuing neutral diplomacy, he recalled the betrayal guide.
He mimicked a few builds and succeeded.
Even clinched an alliance victory at the end.
That win boosted his Lost World win rate considerably.
This game, he was following the build step by step.
Yeokgwa.
Yeokgwa stemmed from Renar.
Fox-like in appearance, bipedal, curious, and agile, they once worshipped the unparalleled god of bountiful harvests, now called Mangeol.
Mangeol seemed unremarkable compared to other gods.
He protected the nation's main race, bestowed blessings, and occasionally showed miracles.
No one saw Yeokgwa as particularly different—perhaps the most ordinary nation.
While Heuklin's Yacheon favored the bold and wise, and Seokmyeon's Sukseon the cruel and magnificent, Yeokgwa seemed to prefer the average folk.
Mangeol's priests were meticulous, even timid in spots.
Indecisive in 'choices,' especially.
This tied into national policy, making Yeokgwa seem inherently passive to outsiders.
For example, when needing one road—quick and risky vs. slow and circuitous—they'd build both.
Seemed competent at first glance, but no.
Without roads, trade stalled, rice and barley rotted, famine loomed—yet they wasted resources on both.
No future payoff either.
Roads aren't always needed in pairs.
This national—or folk—trait had a symbol.
Yeokgwa's Manbyeonhwa flower.
Just a fragrant purple bloom; petals made a clarifying tea.
But the fruit mattered.
Every Yeokgwa citizen and Mangeol devotee carried one thumb-sized Manbyeonhwa fruit.
Said to taste better than any delicacy.
Few had tried it.
Fruit took years from flower, more to ripen inside.
No one knew exactly how many years.
Couldn't tell when to peel.
Always smelled inviting.
Usually, peeling revealed underripe flesh or rot.
Undetectable externally—pure luck.
Yeokgwa folk peeled for divination on big matters or decisions.
Even nationally, priests decided.
'If ripe today, rain this afternoon; spoiled, clear skies.'
Called "Gyeolmun," common priestly oracles in Yeokgwa.
They saw following it as natural.
Yeokgwa's general and aged Renar, Tobe Volko, woke gasping.
Right after an oracle.
"...Everything we knew is wrong?"
Tobe pulled his Manbyeonhwa fruit from his bosom.
It was cracked.
And fully ripe.
He nearly tasted it, then pocketed it.
Woke his adjutant and ordered,
"Do you have your Manbyeonhwa fruit?"
"Y-yes?"
"Show it."
Sure enough, cracked.
Fully ripe.
As the adjutant swallowed hard, Tobe said,
"Do you know today's war Gyeolmun?"
"No, sir."
"Check it."
The adjutant hurried to the priests and confirmed.
Tobe checked every soldier's fruit.
All were ripe.
In the dead of dawn, the Yeokgwa army began to move silently.