Clearing the Game at the End of the World
Chapter 193: Wizard of Wizards (13)

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Crack!

"Hmm. It has improved quite a lot. Shall we conclude the training here and move on to the main topic?"

"Ye-yes, I understand…."

Rustle, rustle,

His pronunciation was badly slurred due to his shattered teeth piercing his tongue. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ N0ᴠᴇFɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

As he lifted his head embedded in the thick wooden floor, he saw his crumbled teeth falling out from where his cheek was torn. The sensation of firmness tingled up from the roots of the teeth pouring out.

‘Ugh, I'm not even a shark.'

Even from my perspective, the scene was grotesque, let alone for someone watching it from the front.

My crushed eye regrew, and after rubbing it for a while, the Great Mother was inspecting my tattered body with her one remaining eye up close.

"Although I heard the explanation….. It's a rare scene even for someone like me who could be considered long-lived."

"Ye-yes. It's kind of gross. I mean, I'm not a shark or anything."

"That's not what I'm saying. The limbs torn apart by my hands, the crushed flesh. There's nothing particularly abominable about it."

It was a boast, this human.

"What I am talking about is the style of your combat. It's an interesting combination, capable of withstanding some damage, swift and aggressive like the Haram monks. It even gave me the chills."

"Ah, yes…."

"Hmm? Aren't you pleased? Almost no one has received praise from me for their physical prowess in over 70 years."

Well, it's a bit complicated. Because even I don't understand how it's all happening.

In the morning too, and even after being dragged out again after eating.

After exerting myself until I was utterly drained, I definitely felt it.

My movements were following some memory without my knowledge.

‘The skill book given by the Archbishop…. Was it called the Radiant Fist? It seemed to end with just an assist effect typical of swordsmanship or martial arts systems.'

Typically, the effect of a skill book in swordsmanship or martial arts is to guide the body along the path of the technique with a sensation like being pushed by a magnet and to apply various enhancement effects.

Now that I think about it calmly, all that had come into my mind. Not like a memory of ‘Oh, I should do this here!' but more like dragging and dropping a compressed file all at once. Although I have no memory of learning it, it definitely had a place in the back of my unconscious. So deeply ingrained that my hand naturally followed that trajectory even when I desperately reached out.

‘It's probably related to being halfway to an NPC. I started living the way the inhabitants of this world do.’

It wasn't hard to guess why this phenomenon occurred.

If we assume that all the vibrant NPCs in this GG world were created based on the data of users who passed through here,

The data of Mr. A, who lived his life as a salaryman and then worked only in Dome's production line until his death after the apocalypse,

Was transformed into something like,

‘A sensitive and fastidious innkeeper who turns out to be a retired sword master with a lot of affection.'

It was a technique of naturally injecting memories, like the skill that had entered his mind now. Editing human memories to store them wholesale was simply another step.

‘Hmm, manipulating a person's only memories. It's quite scary… But honestly, a bit exciting?’

No wonder I was keeping up so well in a fight against a top-tier hero unit. Even if the Great Mother had manipulated the odds in my favor, such a high-class combat would have been impossible without this upgrade. I was moving my body and thinking, ‘Me? Did I do that?'

But will these inserted memories come with me when I go outside?

If, having lived my life as a gunman and only learned fighting and grappling as a hobby, I acquire close combat skills strong enough to withstand a 300-year-old elven monster?

Whiff, whoof!

I swung my fist while lying on the wooden floor. The description of ‘speed of light or something' didn't seem to be a lie as my fist moved swiftly and sharply.

‘I don't know what this Radiant thing is, but it feels like a mix of Krav Maga and Jeet Kune Do…’

Imagine taking this with me. Well, my body might be a bit of an issue, so let's say I go back to my original form, almost like mounting a robot.

In a large laboratory that seems cramped just by its presence, a monster whose sheer dying form can only suggest the powerful strength it once held, is not moving haphazardly but displaying precise movements with its strong physique.

Dodging tank shells with weaving, breaking orbits with low kicks, and popping tank turrets off with uppercuts…

‘Wow, that's insane.’

Crazy. The romance boils over. If I get out, maybe it would be nice to live a few months in that monstrous body I saw in videos, like the robot cartoons I watched as a kid.

Honestly, Vex, with just a knife, crawling in and coming out bloody soon after was kind of cool with that [Clear] signal. I wanted to try something like that too.

‘I want to go out. I want to go out and check!'

Of course, right now, it's a far-fetched dream. I need to somehow clear this World 3 to find a solution.

Crack, creak! Creak!

"Ugh, oh my back."

"One of them, too. Even I am getting old, yet I stay put, but why do you do the same, young one?"

"Age doesn't matter when you're kicked hard enough to bend your back like a bow. Ah, or isn't that so? Usually, you'd die from such a kick."

Having confirmed that his severed spine was slowly getting back in place, Professor rose to his feet and spoke to the Great Mother.

"Ugh. I'm recovered enough to discuss things, so let's get to this ‘main point' you mentioned. You surely didn't call me here just to beat me up, did you?"

It seemed like going down with the Great Mother wasn't going to work out.

Having rested enough, and the group having regained most of their spent energy by now, it was time to get to work. In Roderick, they must still be holding back Mute who keeps charging at them relentlessly.

At my words, the Great Mother gave a knowing smile and casually sat down beside me sprawled on the ground.

"Right. We can't just play forever. Before we speak, I have a question. There are two ways I can think of to reach the Elven Forest right now. Do you prefer the easy way or the hard way?"

Hmm. The Great Mother's face bore a mischievous expression like ‘I've had a bad idea!'. What could this possibly be about?

"Of course… the easy way would be preferable, wouldn't it? If it means getting reinforcements sooner to head down to Roderick?"

As soon as she heard this, the Great Mother grinned as if she had been waiting for that answer.

"The easy way, huh. Are you really satisfied with that? You might regret hearing it."

"Since the ribs were divided into 24 pieces this morning, I've been regretting coming here already, so just tell me. Why all the suspense?"

"Well…"

.

.

.

.

.

Cough.

Upon hearing the Great Mother's words, I felt the urge to go back in time and beat myself up for getting involved in this matter.

The Great Mother was right again. It would have been much better not to hear that solution.

****

"It's taking longer than expected?"

"Mm. That Great Mother elf and the captain are both formidable. They must have a lot to discuss, whether it's through words or fists. Seeing wood chips flying like a summer shower, it seems to be more of the latter."

After breakfast.

While Professor was dragged off by the Great Mother to receive a bloody lecture on ‘the difference between familiarity and respect for one's elders,' the rest of the party relaxed below, engaging with the elves around them or organizing the elven goods they had purchased from the village.

Soon after, much like on the first day, the wooden floor slid down the trunk of the tree, and down came Professor and the Great Mother, both with faces like they had eaten something foul.

A grim Professor Park was a bad omen. He was usually transparent with his emotions unless he specifically tried to hide them.

After coming down, Professor scrubbed his bloodied face clean with water flowing down a nearby branch, then strode over to where the group was.

"I'm back-"

"Uh-huh. Looks like you've had a rough time. So, what did the Great Mother say? Did she agree to guide us to the Elven Forest? Did she assign a guide?"

"Well, it's gotten a bit complicated."

"Complicated how?"

At Ottman's repeated inquiry, Professor scowled and replied.

"She said she doesn't know."

"…What?"

"The Great Mother also said she can't pinpoint exactly where they are inside the Elven Forest. It's as if the moment they leave their communal consciousness, they lose the right to enter deeper into the forest's enchantments."

"That's serious! We've wasted days getting here, and even the local elves don't know! Should we turn towards the deserts of the west right now?"

"Gwok. I hate hot places. I prefer the forest."

"I completely agree with Notum's words. The souls of those who live in the desert have strange things embedded in them, making them quite unpleasant to look at. It's like remnants of the ancient times that should have vanished long ago. Ugh, I really don't want to head to a desert nation."

The group murmured at Ottman's words.

Indeed, if Roderick fell, the entire eastern Blue Line would practically become a battlefield. Heading back through the long route to the desert wasn't just about the time; the ordeal was visibly going to be enormous. As crises loom, borders tighten, security wavers, and all of it would impede travelers on long journeys.

"That's not it. Remember, I said it got ‘complicated.' If the Great Mother had simply said she couldn't help because she didn't know, I'd say the plan was messed up. But there is a way, it's just… um…"

"Just?"

"It's messed up. Both options."

A sigh.

Professor struggled to speak as if he had stuffed a whole boiled sweet potato into his mouth.

Aldrich, frustrated by his hesitance, pushed him to continue.

"Isn't having options better than none? Stop beating around the bush and spit it out. Which is the lesser evil?"

"We're supposed to seek help from the Emperor of the Empire. Although not allies, the Empire's territory and the Elven Forest border each other, and over the years there have been both significant and minor interactions. The Emperor might know how to communicate with them."

"Ah, the Emperor you speak of? To regard him as if he were a mere insect, is this about Agdan VII himself?"

"Well, there may not necessarily be a need for a face-to-face meeting. I have an old connection, and I will write a letter of recommendation. Use that as a pretext to try and negotiate."

This letter of recommendation would be akin to a key item, much like the handwritten letters of the Archbishop. In the past, it was El-Farna, the great elf hero who had helped Agdan II rectify the foundations of the empire, which had been fragmenting around high nobility, and who had also saved the human world from the undead legions that swarmed like clouds 70 years ago.

With the reputation of El Farna’s name and the Archbishop of the Church of Light, meeting the Emperor from a distance was not entirely impossible.

However…

"The problem is, I don't know what that psychopathic emperor might demand in return for connecting us to the empire's hotline."

I can guarantee that just walking up to the emperor with a couple of letters would likely end with ‘I have received your letter. Now get lost, courier. Help? I have no intention of conversing with vermin who are of no help to the empire.’ The young emperor of the empire is known to have such a temperament. Even if he listens, he would probably demand something outrageous, like, having acquired a champion, demanding they complete 12 Herculean tasks before he would consider their request.

It would probably be a quest that involves slowly digging through the imperial nobility, backing oneself with some sort of power to converse with the emperor. Ah, already a headache. Explaining the benefits of allying with the powerful Ro Haram Church from the Blue Line East to the senile nobility of the empire, negotiating to merely mention their names in a conversation with the emperor, and dealing with a significant number of disgruntled nobles who come seeking a strong foreigner with the ability to converse with the emperor to possibly overthrow him….

Ugh, it's dreadful. Among GG’s quests, which are broadly categorized into ‘combat' and ‘non-combat', this is one of the ultimate ‘non-combat' quests. It's a quest suited for players who play as nobles equipped with skills like [Noble Rhetoric], [Cunning], [Eloquence], and [Pithy Comebacks].

Well, I am somewhat skilled in this area, so it's not like I absolutely can't do it….

Really, truly, I utterly despise it. I don’t have a masochistic preference to willingly throw myself into the decaying social circles of the empire among the rotting old nobility.

"Ugh. A conversation with the emperor… The forest elves know all too well that being at odds with the emperor does no good, so if it’s successful, it would certainly allow us to cross the boundaries of the forest. But the problem is time, isn’t it?"

"It's time."

Although there was reluctance, the main issue at this hour was the nobility of the empire, who aren't simply available for meetings. If one isn’t known by a particularly distinguished name, one must build a reputation and go through a series of related quests to catch the eye of the nobility for a mere five minutes of their time. Even pushing through to meet them based on a champion’s name value, getting them on board with my plan would take forever. In the meantime, Roderick would be completely ruined and turned into a house of mourning.

In other words, regardless of difficulty, this method was simply not feasible.

“I also have some connections with the empire as a mage of the Reedflow School, but… it seems difficult to proceed quickly. So, what’s this worse second option?”

"…"

Puhaaaa…

Professor exhaled a deep sigh as if wishing the ground would swallow him.

"Damn it, Captain. What’s with the suspense?"

"Damn it. It's something I hate even to mention."

I wished it was a joke, the kind I hoped for.

"Now, go and find the only people who trade with the elves and seek their help. At least the forest elves show up to exchange goods, so meet and talk to them there."

"….Hmm?"

The relaxed demeanor of my companions upon hearing my suggestion made me wonder why I had been so dramatically apprehensive.

"That's…. not a bad proposal, is it?"

The werewolf's expression seemed to question why I had made such a fuss.

Certainly, when viewed ordinarily, one side was the emperor of the empire and the other side was merchants trading with elves. The difficulty of persuading them was clearly skewed towards one being significantly easier than the other.

The problem was that this was not an ordinary situation at all.

As everyone was filled with hope, Lucilla alone turned pale and spoke with a trembling voice. Apparently, being a merchant, she knew who those involved in bringing in elven-made goods were.

"Yo-you mean trading with the forest elves… you're talking about ‘those’ people?"

"Yes. ‘Those’ people."

"No way. I'm out. I don't want to take such a risk…."

"Who are they that you make such a fuss? Are they barbaric nomads who kill people and scalp them?"

"Ha, that’s not even a fair comparison. Comparing barbarians on horseback to those people?"

"Enough, I can't stand it. Who are they? These elf traders you speak of!"

….Gulp.

That name, so burdensome to even mention, had been danced around. I hated it, but it was the only viable option left.

"The Wind Mages."

"….What?"

"Mages, I'm talking about mages. Wind Mages. It’s said that merchants use Wind Mages to smuggle goods across the Blue Line, lifting trade items over the mountains in the same way, trading with the elves. We’re supposed to meet these mages and get into their trading apparatus to meet the elves."

The mention of mages restored some vitality to the faces of my companions, which then quickly faded.

Glancing sideways, my companions alternated looks between Aldrich, me, and Ottman.

"Hmm, adding more mages here…."

"Considering the antics a single average mage gets up to in a month, if you gather this many mages and add another…."

"Yes, yes. Probably the concerns you all have will come to pass."

What will happen? No one knows. The truly frightening thing is that no one can predict what will happen the moment you're together with those mages.

Wind Mages, also known as Air Realm Mages, were notoriously unpredictable in character.

What if a Water Mage or a Fire Mage vanished before your eyes?

Ah, you could guess, "This one must be in the water," or "That one must be starting a fire somewhere."

Wind mages, however, were not such easily predictable beings. They were the kind who, just a second ago, might say, "I'm feeling like tomato soup today because my stomach's upset," only to demand, "Bring me lamb steak and whole wheat bread, two servings of Paul Deneuve," as soon as the menu arrives.

Mages harboring wind attribute mana were the epitome of the capricious nature often attributed to magicians. Like most mages, driven by the desire to become one with the element of the mana they wield, they were wanderers of the world, never staying in one place, embodying the spirit of roaming mages.

The Wind Mages, a sect without a magic tower, among the rarest of the four elemental mages—water, fire, wind, earth—were central to what the Great Mother had called the ‘easier' method.

"Let's go with persuading the emperor."

"I think the emperor sounds better, Captain."

"What?"

"Let's just get safely back to the caravan, please…."

When it was time to declare the emperor's method as virtually impossible, everyone unanimously recommended it.

"….I'm sorry it has come to this."

"Aaaaah! Cursed be the guidance of mana! O currents of fate!"

"Grrr! It wasn't meant to be! If not for those slavers, we wouldn't have to endure such tragedy!"

"Sniff, sniff…. After all my efforts to save up money, to go like this without even getting to spend it…."

"….What?"

Regrettably, as I announced that we had no other choice, the group erupted in lamentations, all except Notum, who still hadn't fully grasped the spicy nature of mages, just cocking her head in confusion.

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