The Unorthodox Alliance (1)

'This room is huge.'

The furnishings were antique, too. Clearly, he—the room's occupant—must hold a fairly high position.

There was one other peculiar detail: liquor bottles lay scattered all over the room.

He looked in the mirror. His appearance hadn't changed at all. Neither had the skills or stats on his status window.

'Hmm...'

First, he needed to figure out what was going on. After gesturing for Snowy to hide, Kim Minwoo looked toward the door and shouted.

Looking toward the door, Kim Minwoo shouted.

“Is anyone there?”

“Oh! You're awake, young master?”

The door eased open, and a fellow who was plainly a servant bowed his head in greeting.

“I'll have your breakfast brought right—”

“Forget that. You, shut the door and come here.”

“Pardon...?”

“Now!”

At his glare, the servant hastily shut the door and hurried over.

“F-Fifth Young Master. Wh-what is the matter?”

Fifth Young Master, huh. He certainly seemed to be someone of high standing.

“You. Name.”

“... It's Sam! Jang Sam! I've been serving you for nearly a year now, young master! How could you forget my name...?”

“My memory's hazy.”

“... Pardon?”

“I think I drank too much yesterday.”

Jang Sam tilted his head. Then, spotting the liquor bottles strewn in the corner, he nodded with a dubious look.

“Tell me what you know about my situation and this place. Even the basics will do.”

“Hmm... Well... This is the Unorthodox Alliance.”

[Keyword acquired: 'Unorthodox Alliance.']

Jang Sam continued his explanation.

The Unorthodox Alliance was a coalition of unorthodox factions. Apparently, he, the fifth young master, 'Baek Socheon,' was the secret child of the alliance leader.

“The alliance leader had been searching for you all along, and he finally found you a year ago. That's when you came here to the Unorthodox Alliance.”

“If I came barging in out of nowhere like that, my position can't be all that good, can it?”

“Uh... Well...”

“Be honest.”

“You haven't shown us anything since arriving here, young master... Oh, there is one thing...”

“What's that? Being good at drinking?”

Jang Sam gave a nod.

“Yes. Your martial arts accomplishments aren't particularly impressive, and, well... You've spent the entire year being so idle that everyone has simply come to accept it.”

So he was such a loser that the others didn't even bother keeping their guard up around him?

Well, maybe that wasn't so bad.

“Jang Sam.”

“Yes, young master.”

“You said we're an unorthodox faction, right?”

“That's right.”

“Then would people just shrug it off if I raised corpses?”

“Corpses? Oh, do you mean corpse animation or necromancy?”

“Something like that.”

“Of course. The orthodox bastards might care, but unorthodox factions don't give a damn about that. I imagine the Demonic Cult wouldn't mind either.”

His class was necromancer. In a martial arts setting, it wouldn't be strange to be branded a bastard who deserved death just for summoning skeletons.

'Is that why I was assigned an unorthodox starting point?'

That was a relief, at least. If even the unorthodox factions had treated him as a common enemy, summoning skeletons would have been completely off-limits.

Let's review the situation.

He'd become a highborn young master of an unorthodox faction. His name was Baek Socheon, but it felt as though his own character skin had been applied over the role.

'Well, this happens fairly often in gates.'

He took that in stride.

In any case, it looked like everyone regarded him as a total wastrel.

'So?'

What was he supposed to do now to clear the gate?

He recalled its name.

'B+, War of the Stars.'

It sounded like he was supposed to pit himself against some big shots.

Fight the other four young masters to improve his standing? Gain recognition as the heir?

Or perhaps there was some other way to clear it.

“Jang Sam.”

“Yes, young master.”

“Anything big happening lately?”

“... Anything big?”

“Yes. Tell me whatever comes to mind.”

“In that case... I suppose it would have to be the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering?”

[Keyword acquired: Dragon and Phoenix Gathering!]

“The Dragon and Phoenix Gathering?”

“Yes. All the outstanding young talents from the orthodox, unorthodox, and demonic factions gather to compete. It's held once every hundred years.”

Oh? Now this was looking promising.

“What qualifies someone as outstanding?”

“The Demonic Cult, the Martial Alliance, and our Unorthodox Alliance each select ten people. That officially establishes them as outstanding young talents.”

“And I'm not one of them, am I?”

“... Of course not?”

“How do I get on the list?”

“You'd have to show us something?”

Aha. He was getting the picture.

Then Jang Sam cautiously asked,

“Um, surely you aren't planning to enter the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering yourself, young master?”

“Why shouldn't I?”

“N-no, you can, of course... But wouldn't it be very difficult to get selected at this point...?”

“Why?”

Jang Sam scratched his head.

“Well... Our Unorthodox Alliance uses a points system.”

“Points?”

“Yes. The alliance issues a list of missions. Complete one, and you earn points. We've been doing it for a year now.”

“Then some people must have racked up a lot already.”

“... Of course? The first young master has already passed ten thousand points and holds an unshakable lead.”

“How many do I have?”

“... Zero, naturally?”

Well, shit.

“How many does the guy in tenth place have?”

“The fourth young master is currently tenth, with 3,800 points.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Everyone's been feverishly completing missions for a year. Catching up to them would be rather unrealistic...”

Jang Sam spoke cautiously, watching his reaction. Minwoo nodded.

'Well, it wouldn't be B+ otherwise.'

This gate was even harder than taking down that Apostle. He hadn't expected it to be easy.

Of course, there would be a way out even if he didn't take part in this Dragon and Phoenix Gathering or whatever it was. He had that magical escape mechanism called the midway zone.

'But...'

There was no reason not to enter the tournament. If he were going to give up that easily, he wouldn't have attempted the first clear in the first place.

'Just as I thought. Those Dorim bastards hid all the information.'

He recalled what Dorim's Guild Master had said right after clearing the gate. He'd explained that it had a martial arts setting.

'But he never went into this kind of detail.'

The Dragon and Phoenix Gathering?

He hadn't so much as mentioned the name. He'd just blabbered about accepting missions from a martial arts organization and clearing the gate through teamwork with his guildmates.

There was no way he'd earned a ring like that by doing something so trivial.

'He definitely entered.'

Minwoo suspected it had been a reward for achieving some significant result there.

“Just in case...”

“Yes?”

“If I beat up the fourth young master and win, do I get points or something?”

“... Pardon?”

“Can I take all someone's points by proving I'm stronger than them?”

“N-no? That would rather defeat the purpose of earning points, wouldn't it...?”

“Damn. So close.”

“... Young master. As your loyal servant, allow me to offer a word of advice. There's being full of yourself, and then there's—”

“Stop. Don't offer it.”

“... Yes.”

Jang Sam immediately wilted. Not that Kim Minwoo cared.

“Anyway, I doubt a tournament that big comes without prizes. What are they?”

“Third place receives rare materials. Second place receives rare martial arts. And first place...”

Jang Sam's eyes turned serious.

“What does first place get?”

“... I've only heard rumors myself. Ascension. They say the winner receives something that offers a clue to ascension.”

“... Ascension?”

Kim Minwoo frowned slightly. He'd heard that word before, when he'd entered the gate swarming with orcs.

[“Snort! You fools! How could you forget the name of the one who underwent the ascension ritual!”]

That was one of the things Bektar the shaman had said. He'd said the Orc Kingdom had completely collapsed after Mutakta went up to the heavens.

The term was the same. There was a very high chance of some connection.

“By ascension, do you mean becoming an immortal and ascending to the heavens?”

“I don't really know either. But there's one thing every martial artist knows.”

“What?”

“Whoever obtained the clue to ascension always rose to become the greatest under heaven. That's why it's an object that brings bloodshed...”

“... Bloodshed?”

“The Dragon and Phoenix Gathering truly begins when it ends. That's when a great, bloody war breaks out. The reason is simple. A clue to ascension—who in this world wouldn't covet it?”

“Hold on.”

He raised a hand.

“Please, go ahead, young master.”

“If it's that incredible, it's not something the orthodox, unorthodox, or demonic factions would offer as a prize. Who actually gives it out?”

“Heaven bestows it.”

“And the three sides hold the tournament to obtain it?”

“Yes. If they don't hold it, there's no reward.”

He narrowed his eyes. This looked like it would be a lot trickier than he'd thought.

“If it's that valuable, even supreme masters like the Unorthodox Alliance leader must want it.”

“Of course. Young master, the young talents who enter the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering aren't going there to obtain the clue to ascension for themselves.”

“Then?”

“They enter to offer the reward to their superiors and receive many things in exchange.”

“... Do second and third place have to hand over their rewards too?”

“No. They don't covet those. Only the clue to ascension. But it's nothing to feel cheated over. In exchange for the clue, each organization grants a reward more valuable than the second- and third-place prizes combined.”

Aha. So if he won first prize, it would get taken away, no exceptions.

“Then if the first young master wins, he'll hand over the reward too?”

“Yes. He will have already discussed it with the alliance leader. The same applies to you. If you make the top ten and enter... the alliance leader will make you an offer.”

What an interesting setup.

“Fine. Setting that aside, you're saying the three organizations go to war the moment someone wins first place.”

“They probably will again this time.”

“... How the hell do you survive that?”

“Haha. Young master, you needn't worry too much about that.”

“If our unorthodox side wins, the orthodox factions and the Demonic Cult will gang up on us. How am I supposed to not worry?”

“All three sides hold the tournament prepared to accept that degree of loss. Besides, the first-place winner actually isn't a target.”

“Because they hand the reward over to the higher-ups?”

“Yes. Instead, people frequently attack the second- and third-place winners for their rewards. Not many people are mad enough to go after the Unorthodox Alliance leader, the Martial Alliance leader, or the Heavenly Demon.”

“Does anyone know what this clue to ascension looks like?”

“Rumor has it that it looks like a round bead. About this big?”

“I see.”

He had a rough idea now.

For one thing, Dorim's Guild Master hadn't won first place. He was certain of that.

If he had, one of two things would have happened: he'd have handed over the clue to ascension, or he'd have escaped the gate without surrendering it.

'Neither makes sense.'

What if he'd run off without handing it over?

This clue to ascension, or whatever it was, supposedly let its owner contend for the title of greatest under heaven. If that were true, Dorim's future Guild Master couldn't possibly have been so weak.

And if he'd handed it over?

He would have received all sorts of rewards. Yet Dorim's Guild Master had been far too unimpressive for that.

'He didn't use any noteworthy martial arts either.'

So it wasn't the first prize, the clue to ascension. Nor was it the second prize, martial arts.

'Then did he get the materials for the ring as the third-place prize?'

It seemed he'd obtained rare materials and somehow had them made into a ring.

'If just the third-place prize was that good...'

Second and first place went without saying. The rewards would be incredible.

'That clue is mine.'

Hand a treasure that precious over to some higher-up?

That process didn't exist in Kim Minwoo's brain.

The good stuff was meant to be kept all to himself. No exceptions.