Chapter 306

Chapter 306
## Chapter 306

—

The Hall of Fame

The gauntlets of the Tower of the War God, which had plunged everyone into a state of hopelessness, finally reached their conclusion. In that same moment, the masses—the players in particular—found themselves paralyzed by a profound sense of confusion.

“T-The Hall of Fame…!”

“Just how many patches were implemented at the same time?”

“I’m not hallucinating, am I?”

The Hall of Fame served as the sanctum where merit was weighed and positions were assigned based on the completion of Main Quests. That holy ground was currently undergoing a seismic shift. This wasn’t a minor adjustment. Because multiple Main Quests had been finalized in a single instant, the registries of various halls were being overhauled simultaneously. It was a phenomenon without precedent. Never before had the records been ‘refreshed’ with such violent haste. Furthermore, the identities surfacing on those rankings struck the observers with an even more visceral terror.

“Why has Wilhelm been inducted?!”

…The outcry arose because Wilhelm’s name was now etched into the Hall of Fame.

[The standings for ‘Main Quest 1 – Survival’ are undergoing an update.]

……

500 points. It was a staggering disparity that made any comparison feel futile. It was a numerical value that felt fraudulent even to those staring directly at it. Yet, the revelation did not cease there. Wilhelm’s signature continued to manifest in the subsequent lists.

[The standings for ‘Main Quest 2 – Acquiring a Class’ are undergoing an update.]

……

[The standings for ‘Main Quest 3 – Climbing the Tower’ are undergoing an update.]

……

Beginning with Main Quest 1, ‘Survival,’ his presence was felt in every existing ‘Hall of Fame.’ It appeared as though every feat Wilhelm had ever achieved had been quantified into data and immortalized for the public to witness.

“Is this even logical?”

“Does this imply that Wilhelm is actually a player?”

The crowd was deeply perplexed. Historically, the ‘Hall of Fame’ functioned as a restricted benefit for players. It was a domain where only those from the outside world were registered to vie for supremacy. Naturally, an entity that wasn’t a player had never been granted a spot on these lists. If that were the case, was Wilhelm truly a player?

But if he were, his presence should have been recorded in the Hall long ago. There had to be a specific catalyst for his name to be inserted so abruptly, as if through a patch. It was only then that people began to grasp the true nature of the situation.

“Look closer. It isn’t just Wilhelm.”

“…You’re right. Aside from Wilhelm, there are dozens of names I’ve never encountered before.”

“What is happening to the world?”

They had been momentarily blinded because Wilhelm’s name had been the most prominent. He was not the sole newcomer to the Hall of Fame. Names they were seeing for the very first time, or monikers that felt hauntingly familiar yet out of place, were being inserted. Among the veterans who had studied the Hall for years, a few finally cracked the mystery behind these identities.

“…No way, this is insane! That’s the alt-character I developed!”

“Sub-characters are being registered in the Hall?”

They were indeed sub-characters—the personas they had built and leveled before they themselves were pulled in as players. Since these sub-characters had also fulfilled the same Main Quests within the game’s history, it wasn’t entirely illogical for their deeds to be recognized by the Hall. However, the catastrophic realization was that the ‘Hall of Fame’ was no longer a sandbox exclusive to players.

The denizens of Pangenia, whom they had once controlled but who had since gained their own will and autonomy, were now surfacing. Essentially, the individuals who had once endured ‘God-sickness’ were now entering the competitive arena.

“Does this mean sub-characters can access the system now?”

“Can they use things like the Golden Rule Shop or the Achievement Shop?”

“…If that’s true, isn’t this a massive disaster?”

In the eyes of Pangenia, players were ‘Sinners.’ It was common knowledge that the sub-characters shaped by players had suffered from ‘God-sickness,’ losing their autonomy and memories while being piloted. Consequently, those survivors harbored a deep resentment toward the players who had toyed with them. However, without reaching transcendence, they had no way to hunt the players down, and even those who did transcend only possessed vague clues, making retaliation a rarity. Furthermore, since they were merely ‘sub-characters,’ they rarely possessed the raw power needed to threaten a high-level player.

That status quo had been shattered. If sub-characters were being integrated into the system—even a fraction of them—and could exploit the rewards of the Hall of Fame, they would grow in strength at an exponential rate. Even now, they could be claiming all the powerful items and bonuses that players had previously monopolized.

Panic began to spread. Every new piece of information was more jarring than the last. And beyond that—

“Park Hyunmyeong… who the hell is this guy?”

“…Seriously. He’s putting up numbers that rival Wilhelm.”

“Where is he hiding and what exactly is he doing?”

“He must have conquered the Tower of the War God, right?”

“Did he just blast through everything up to Main Quest 5 in one go?”

Though his impact had been briefly overshadowed by Wilhelm’s shocking debut, Park Hyunmyeong’s name was carved into the Hall of Fame with a score that either matched Wilhelm’s or trailed it by the narrowest of margins.

“Wilhelm is back, and Randolph is still among the living…”

“They have to be alive, right? The Hall of Fame only catalogs those who haven’t died.”

“But those two are already beyond our reach.”

The Hall of Fame only displayed the names of ‘living’ participants. The fact that Randolph and Wilhelm remained on the registry was proof of their survival. However, those two had ascended past the limitations of players and become akin to deities. Only one viable target remained. The only high-ranking entity they could still hope to grasp…

“Track down Park Hyunmyeong!”

“I want Park Hyunmyeong brought to me immediately!”

…It was Park Hyunmyeong. A frantic search began. By all accounts, he would be somewhere back on Earth by now.

“Starting today, I will instruct you in the fundamentals of armed combat.”

Standing in the center of the Empire’s expansive training grounds, Lyca spoke with authority. Though the lingering shadows of his ailment were visible, his aura was still far beyond what any normal human could hope to withstand.

Swish!

A spear cut through the air. The movement was so fluid and rapid that it seemed to bypass the very resistance of the atmosphere.

“The sovereign of all weaponry. People claim the sword holds that title, but they are mistaken. The spear is the most intuitive to master and the most devastating in its utility.”

“Then why is a sword your primary weapon?”

“Because the sword represents the ultimate destination of that journey. However, that peak is far beyond your current reach, so for now, focus on sharpening your spearwork.”

Lyca gestured toward the rack of armaments at the edge of the grounds. It was a silent command for me to select a tool. His eyes didn’t betray any high hopes. We hadn’t even formalized a bond of mentor and student. Instead, his goal seemed to be testing the limits of my innate skill. Since the tournament had been cut short, he had been forced to declare me the victor, but he still harbored doubts.

Moreover, the spark within Lyca had dimmed. He was merely counting the days until his passing. I gave a small shrug and pulled a spear from the rack.

‘I have to play along, since I require the status of Lyca’s pupil.’

To infiltrate Adrium, the sacred capital of the Goddess Religion, rescue Sonora, and recover the remaining shards of the Spear of Longinus, I needed a foolproof cover. I couldn’t simply walk into Adrium while wearing the face of Randolph.

‘Randolph is now stained with an evil alignment. If I attempt to enter as him, the holy wards will detect me instantly.’

The Goddess’s protection would flag me as a threat. That was the primary reason I needed the credentials of Lyca’s apprentice. Of course, that wasn’t the only motive for my presence here.

‘The hidden might of the Eight Houses. I wonder if the activation of the Five Gates can be countered by natural regeneration?’

…I was intensely curious. The esoteric arts of the Eight Houses were the foundation of the strength Lyca had used to briefly overpower even the most ancient beings. If the opening of the Five Gates normally meant certain death, could I possibly survive by utilizing ‘natural regeneration’? If my healing rate outpaced the rate of physical collapse, could I endure the ‘Five Gates’?

While I certainly wanted to learn Lyca’s legendary sword style… my true fascination lay with the forbidden techniques of the Eight Houses. So, I stayed. There was every reason to remain. And naturally, there were other factors at play. For instance…

‘…Wilhelm’s true identity was that of a Royal Prince.’

He was a legitimate Prince of this Empire, yet he had been branded a fraud and exiled. An individual bearing Wilhelm’s likeness must be hidden somewhere within these borders. And that person was likely…

‘A high-ranking member of the Reaper Cult is masquerading as Wilhelm.’

It was time to probe the internal affairs of this Empire. The banished Prince and the imposter who stole his life. The origins of that double and the grand conspiracy behind it all. A thick veil of shadows hung over the Empire. I intended to pierce that darkness and uncover the truth about Wilhelm. To achieve that, the prestige of being Lyca’s student was an absolute requirement.

“You won’t just learn the spear; you will master every tool of war. This path is grueling, so if you lack the resolve, walk away now.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hmph. I appreciate the bravado. Now, attempt to replicate this.”

Swish!

Lyca executed a slow, deliberate thrust. It was a basic motion, yet his spear seemed to read the very grain of the air and the flow of the wind. He was demanding that I replicate that level of precision—an impossible task for someone supposed to be handling a spear for the first time.

Hoooooooop.

I centered my breathing and shifted into a combat stance. And then—

Swish!

Lyca was lost in thought—debating whether the legacy of the ‘Eight Houses’ should perish with his own life.

‘If there is no worthy heir, is it not better for it to end?’

The purpose of the Eight Houses was to serve as the Emperor’s shield. They existed solely for the throne. However, with the Emperor in a deep slumber for ages, the role of the ‘Eight Houses’ had become meaningless. Because the sovereign was dormant, the true masters of the Eight Houses remained in the shadows. Only Lyca operated in the light—Lyca, a man of former slave status who had never been truly embraced by the elite.

He felt a deep sense of cynicism regarding his position. It hadn’t always been this way.

‘The day I was named the successor of the Eight Houses, blood was spilled.’

The previous patriarch—his own mentor—had forcibly shut the gates of the Eight Houses to ensure Lyca’s ascension. The other factions of the Eight Houses, unable to openly fight the chosen successor, retreated into deeper isolation and had not been seen since.

‘Can I really force such a burden onto this boy?’

He shook his head internally. He didn’t believe he possessed the cold resolve of his master. He lacked the obsession required to crown a successor at the cost of a civil war.

However, to officially take him as a student, the consensus of the Eight Houses was mandatory. That was the law. If he were to take the boy to the hidden sanctum of the Eight Houses for evaluation, he needed to be certain of his choice. And he was still hesitant. After all, his time was running out.

‘…His form is sloppy.’

Lyca gave a mental sigh. The way the boy gripped the spear was exactly how a novice would. He looked as if he intended to simply swing it without any grace. With zero expectations, Lyca watched the youth. And then—

Swish!

The spear moved. Just as his stance suggested, the strike appeared unrefined and clumsy.

“……”

But Lyca found himself speechless. …Because the strike was perfect. The spearhead had moved in harmony with the wind’s current. The distance and timing were so flawless that the weapon met no resistance from the air.

Every weapon demanded a different understanding. Mastery of the sword didn’t automatically grant an intuitive grasp of the spear’s unique rhythm. Yet, this wasn’t just a matter of luck. The profound technique hidden within that single swing was—

“…Have you received spear training before?”

“Never.”

“……Next is the ‘Saber.'”

Lyca swapped the spear for a saber from the collection. A saber—a blade with only one sharpened edge. It functioned differently from a double-edged sword. While they appeared similar, the saber was designed to maximize the sheer force of a cut.

Slice!

He delivered a heavy downward stroke. Unlike the light touch of the spear, he cleaved through the wind with weight. The very vibration of the air shifted. It was a far more advanced demonstration. One does not simply master a saber because they are proficient with a spear.

Adrium’s String—the young man who had taken the saber from the rack—

Slice!

He swung the blade and tore through the air. And the result was identical.

“……”

…He hadn’t merely cut the air. Lyca’s eyes widened in shock. In that fleeting second, this boy—

‘……He cut me.’

He had metaphorically cut through Lyca’s own technique. He had identified the path of the wind Lyca had just sliced and perfectly split it again. This went far beyond simple mimicry; it was a feat of high-level martial intuition. He had done it through raw, instinctive talent.

It was incomprehensible. To witness a movement once, master it, and then refine it? If that were the case…

‘……This is preposterous.’

…It meant the boy’s potential eclipsed his own by an unimaginable margin.