54. League of Spirit (7)
Time passed quickly, and the Stella in-school League of Spirit selection tournament began.
In truth, even if you called it a selection tournament, it was not like ordinary competitions where the spotlight focused on a single match. Instead, three or four teams played at the same time.
It was to save time as efficiently as possible.
Instead of a tournament bracket, they adopted a point system, in which the teams with the most points earned the right to go to the national competition according to their ranking. Since only two or three teams obtained that qualification each year, the competition within the school was fierce.
There were as many as thirty-two participating teams, and since most of them had been raised through scientific training, every match promised to be exciting enough that none of them could be dismissed lightly.
[Red Team Victory!]
“Damn it, to lose to people who’ve never even properly played a League of Spirit match before…”
“No way…”
Watching the students with blank, devastated expressions shuffle out of the arena, Flame felt slightly sorry.
Because their team had been formed by gathering four absurdly overpowered characters who would stand out anywhere, they could win far too easily against teams made up of amateur trainees.
“You’re still doing that, Ahjussi?”
“Yeah. I told you not to break the enemy tower yet. I was trying to test something.”
“Seriously. Who has time for that? If we can finish it, we finish it. It’s not like we’re experts—we’re even more inexperienced than them.”
Meanwhile, Baek Yuseol was still busily putting things together. It seemed he had been researching a new item tree even during the match just now. Judging by the way he was still doing that even after coming up to the preliminaries, he must have been having a lot of fun.
And because of that, Flame found it reassuring.
‘Baek Yuseol’s usual self?’
‘Who knows. What does he even do?’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen him studying…’
‘Right. He’s always working out. If you want to find him, just go to the fitness hall or the training grounds.’
‘And when he isn’t there, you don’t see even a trace of him. I heard he goes out.’
‘Where does he wander around like that?’
‘Ah, does he go out and enjoy his hobbies or something?’
Going out to enjoy hobbies.
As if.
Everything he did outside was something the world absolutely needed. It would not be an exaggeration to say that he almost never went out for personal pleasure or selfish reasons.
Yes, Baek Yuseol had no hobbies.
He had no private life he enjoyed for himself, and once classes ended, he either went out, or on days when there was no need to, he shut himself up in the training grounds and worked on himself all day.
It could be called the natural life of an elite magic warrior, but even so, that was too much.
Even the geniuses of S Class did not spend all day studying. At the very least, even Eizel had hobbies such as fine food and board games, and recently Hong Biyeon had apparently become interested in Soul Chess and black tea and had started trying them little by little.
The same was true for the other students as well. No one could live by studying all day long.
And yet Baek Yuseol alone had none of that sort of private life at all.
He drove himself mercilessly to the limit, never wasting even a single minute or second, always moving without rest.
As if someone were standing behind him with a whip.
That was why seeing Baek Yuseol genuinely enjoying this game brought peace to Flame’s heart.
“Phew. I think that’s more or less done.”
“What is?”
After the match ended, they had waited around thirty minutes while Baek Yuseol kept staring at the item window, and only then did he finally get up and stretch.
“Something usable in matches. I’d already been thinking about it before, but I stopped halfway through completing the combination because I quit League of Spirit.”
There were two kinds of “masters” in games.
One type was the research type, who mathematically analyzed skills and items to find the optimal result.
The other was the skill type, who played the game countless times and learned it through instinct and physical feel.
Very occasionally, there were people who were both, but in most cases the skill types simply adopted the work researched by the research types.
Unfortunately, nobody researched “the character Baek Yuseol,” so Baek Yuseol—who had originally been a pure skill type—had no choice but to try various things himself.
Fortunately, remnants of the research he had done back when he had been a beginner who desperately wanted to get better at League of Spirit still remained, and he had managed to combine them clumsily enough to raise them to a usable level.
But Flame, who knew none of that, could only stare in disbelief.
“…Already?”
Creating an item combination in less than two weeks was impossible.
Because Baek Yuseol had been a complete outsider when it came to League of Spirit.
“Yeah. It took a while, but I should be able to use it in the next selection match.”
Unlike Flame’s astonishment, Baek Yuseol wore an expression that suggested it was nothing at all.
“Well, good for you, then.”
At this point, she didn’t even have the energy to be surprised by small things like this anymore.
Since it was Baek Yuseol, she just let it pass.
[Match in progress: Mao Lun White Team]
As he left the arena and checked the team matchups, Baek Yuseol realized that the team Raidin had mentioned before was currently playing.
‘Hmmm. How am I supposed to get those guys promoted…’
His 고민 was brief, and the conclusion was simple.
‘Should I throw a match for them?’
That was certainly not the kind of mindset one would expect from someone with sportsmanship.
The city of elves, Skyflower Cradle, had taken root in the Primeval World Tree, the Cheonryeong Tree, which spread its roots through the Primeval Mountain Range and rose high enough to pierce the clouds.
The city’s roads and buildings were formed by intertwining branches, which made it an extremely inconvenient place for wheeled transportation.
Since the dwarves lived on flat land and therefore loved wheels, every time they visited the cradle of the Cheonryeong Tree, their grumbling was loud and endless.
“What a truly inconvenient place.”
Duamri, the interpreter and diplomat of the Dwarf Emperor, Geumgang Paljeong, kept frowning, apparently quite displeased that their proud invention—the aerial train—could not be used here.
To begin with, dwarves and elves did not get along particularly well, so there was no reason for him to come all the way here.
But the Emperor had given an order, so he had no choice.
“Ah, h-hello?”
Meydi, aide to the Elf King.
Having stepped in to replace the former aide Oranha, Meydi had received Kkotseorin’s favor, and their ability was excellent as well, but perhaps because they were still too young, it seemed they were terribly awkward when it came to greeting strangers, owing to their timid personality.
“Tch. What a scatterbrained little thing.”
“Hiiik!”
When Duamri shook his oversized head in disapproval—a head too large for his short stature—Meydi practically jumped.
The expressions of the knights guarding Meydi on either side stiffened, but Duamri was not the sort to care about such things.
“Hey, lift your head a little, will you?”
“Y-yes?”
Thwack!
“Kyaak?!”
“Straighten your back! Raise your head! Open your eyes wide and sharp! Yeah! That’s how you ought to be, you stifling little elf brat!”
Duamri smacked Meydi’s waist and shoulders with his forearm and forced them straight, then used both hands to pry their eyes open wide.
“Huh? An aide to the king ought to have at least this much presence. Honestly, that fellow Oranha from before could at least hold a conversation…”
“P-please stop talking about former aide Oranha. He is a serious criminal.”
“I know, damn it. I’m furious enough as it is that I once had proper conversations with a piece of trash like that.”
Leaning back into the sofa, Duamri lifted the tea that had been placed before him to his mouth, only to spit it back out in a dribble.
Then he said,
“Don’t you have any dark beer?”
“…We do not drink during meetings.”
“How boring.”
“Please state the reason for your visit.”
“Ah, right.”
When Duamri snapped his fingers, a dwarf who had been waiting behind him stepped forward and placed a black bag on the table. He turned the lock, opened the bag, and spun it around to show Meydi.
“This is… mud?”
The bag was full of earth, and from within it Meydi could feel mana that seemed almost alive and breathing.
“That’s right. Mud. More precisely, the mud of Dusk Soil February.”
The sudden mention of one of the Twelve Divine Months made Meydi’s eyes widen.
“Want a taste, brat?”
“N-no.”
“I’m joking. Quickly show this to the Elf King.”
“Is there… a reason?”
“There is. Dusk Soil February, who slumbered in the Land of the Dead Giants, seems to have grown angry recently. As you know, that place was sealed by the power of the Elf King and the Dwarf Emperor. But even though the seal itself has not weakened, Dusk Soil February’s emotions are reviving.”
“That’s not a good sign…”
“Exactly. He’s one of the Twelve Divine Months who hates every living creature on the surface.”
Among the Twelve Divine Months, the most violent by far was Dusk Soil February, whose temperament was so foul that even the incarnation of rage would have to step aside. There were too many countries and cities he had destroyed overnight in the distant past to even count.
“So, anyway…”
Click.
Just as Duamri was about to continue, the door opened, and Kkotseorin appeared. Meydi hurriedly sprang to their feet and bowed their head, and Duamri also stood, albeit reluctantly, and gave a formal nod.
“Your Majesty. This is our first meeting.”
Kkotseorin, the Elf King, had arrived in person without warning.
Duamri could not help but be greatly flustered. He had come in the capacity of a diplomat, yes, but he had never expected the king to appear personally.
“I have heard much about you, Duamri.”
“It is an honor.”
“I received word from the Dwarf Emperor. He said you would be bringing something important.”
“Yes. That is correct.”
As Duamri’s expression hardened, Kkotseorin shook their head.
“There is no need for you to feel burdened. The Dwarf Emperor has already apologized sufficiently for not being able to come in person.”
“Understood.”
Kkotseorin motioned Meydi aside and sat down comfortably on the sofa.
At present, they were not wearing their white mask, but only had a veil draped over their face. The faint silhouette showing through it only made their mysterious presence all the stronger.
“Th-then… do you no longer wear the mask?”
“Are you curious?”
“That was a rude question.”
“No. It is all right.”
Gently touching the veil, Kkotseorin gave a soft smile.
“I no longer need to wear the mask. But… the curse is still in effect, and I continue to charm all who look upon me, so I wear the veil.”
“Isn’t gaining the favor of others a good thing? Especially for an elf, I would think.”
“No.”
They were firm.
“I… only wish to show my face to the one whose heart I want to win. I do not wish to forcibly steal the hearts of anyone else.”
“Hm.”
The one whose heart they wanted to win.
No matter how much he thought about it, Duamri could not imagine anyone like that existing for the Elf King.
‘Are they planning to live with that veil on forever?’
That part didn’t matter, so Duamri continued where he had left off.
“Do you recognize this mud?”
“…Yes. It is one of the fragments of emotion shed by Dusk Soil February.”
“That’s right. So I would like to ask you something. I heard that you recently fought Absolute Invincible Cheolribeon. Did you happen to notice anything strange about him?”
Something strange.
“He has always been strange.”
To be exact, his power was strange.
The earth itself seemed to wrap around him as if trying to protect him, making him impossible to attack, and at the same time he assaulted everything around him with such violence that it seemed he wanted to erase all nearby life. It had been an exhausting battle.
“The one loved by one of the Twelve Divine Months…”
Even now, it remained a mystery.
Why would Dusk Soil February, who despised all life on the surface, come to love a dark mage?
Watching the way it attached its soul to him and allowed no other life-form to come near him, one could tell how sincere that love was…
But why?
“Your Majesty, Elf King.”
Duamri spoke quietly.
“To be honest, I was not sent by the Emperor merely to ask you questions. It is, in a sense…”
Warning, advice, counsel.
Many words ran through his mind, but none of them felt appropriate to dare say before the Elf King, so he could only lengthen the sentence and build it carefully.
“I came to inform Your Majesty of a crisis, for the sake of your safety.”
“You mean…”
“The reason Dusk Soil February has become enraged is because Cheolribeon was injured. He will likely think the cause lies with Your Majesty and Chairman Aryumun of the Magic Society. Or perhaps…”
He let his words trail off slightly.
“He may come to hate the boy named Baek Yuseol, who struck the decisive blow against Cheolribeon.”
Flinch.
At the mention of Baek Yuseol’s name, Kkotseorin’s fingertips trembled where they were touching the teacup.
Duamri noticed, but deliberately turned his gaze elsewhere, affording the Elf King the courtesy of emotional restraint.
‘The rage of Dusk Soil February…’
It had never even occurred to them.
To begin with, Cheolribeon had always traveled the world in hiding, and no one but the Black Demon King had ever been capable of injuring him.
That was why Dusk Soil February had never had any reason to grow angry until now.
“…Your Majesty. Our Dwarf Emperor is searching for a way to calm Dusk Soil February’s rage, but at present, circumstances are difficult.”
“I know. Soon, Geumgang July’s…”
Kkotseorin, who had been about to say more, realized there were knights and Meydi nearby and closed their lips.
“…In any case, I think it would be best to summon Chairman Aryumun and discuss this matter separately.”
Having said that much, Duamri respectfully bowed and withdrew, while Kkotseorin bit their lip with a troubled expression.
‘The rage of Dusk Soil February, and…’
the Witch King.
Recently, reports had begun reaching Kkotseorin from here and there that the Witch King had begun to move.
Especially the news that the Witch King was targeting Baek Yuseol sent a chill through Kkotseorin’s heart.
‘Why do things like this always happen only to him…’
Kkotseorin’s expression hardened as they stared blankly at their own reflection in the surface of the teacup. Meydi carefully approached and asked,
“Your Majesty… are you all right?”
“Ah, yes. I am perfectly fine.”
Kkotseorin forced a smile, trying to look strong.
As a king, they could not show personal feelings before their retainers.
“You heard nothing regarding this matter. I will handle everything myself, so until I call a meeting, do not speak of it anywhere.”
“We obey.”
In any case, before long, everyone would come to know of Dusk Soil February’s rage.
Because once the “Stirring” began in the Land of the Dead Giants, large-scale earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and other calamities would follow.
It had already been over a hundred years since the previous Elf King and the current Dwarf Emperor had joined forces to successfully soothe him.
It had been quiet all that time, and they had hoped he would never awaken again.
Closing their eyes tightly, Kkotseorin prayed that Baek Yuseol—so small, fragile, and vulnerable when caught among beings vast enough to shake the safety of the world—would not be swept away by it all.
‘Please, may the World Tree’s blessing be with him.’
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