It was the sixth day since the last magitech train arrived in Yukantar.

A single newsletter, published five days ago, had sent all of Trivik into an uproar.

The publisher was Rorte.

It was not a particularly well-known outfit, so at first, it generated little buzz.

But once word spread that it contained a deck strategy that had briefly been the talk of Luteran, sales of the Rorte Newsletter skyrocketed exponentially.

Supply couldn’t keep up with demand. Even after three reprint runs, every copy sold out. In a mere three days, the Rorte Newsletter—a publication that had carried no name recognition in Trivik—surpassed the Yukan Newsletter’s market share.

The follow-up articles that poured out as though they had been prepared in advance also stirred a strong reaction from the public.

The Rorte Newsletter’s subsequent articles introduced synergies that assassin decks had favorable matchups against.

Those articles demonstrated analytical prowess so formidable that refutation was nearly impossible, and the name Rorte etched itself deeply into the public consciousness.

Factions possessing the synergies mentioned in the articles and those lacking them experienced wildly divergent fortunes. By the fourth day after publication, hardcore assassin decks began appearing in earnest across private battlefields.

The hardcore assassin upheaval had begun in full force.

Naturally, a lack of proficiency meant the results were underwhelming, but one thing was certain.

The average rankings of players running ranged champion-focused decks had dropped.

As a reflexive benefit, players who primarily fielded melee champions saw their average rankings inch upward, and all eyes were fixed on how the faction landscape would reshape itself.

The first to break the silence was Liberthan, the ruler of Yukantar in Trivik’s eastern region.

Liberthan’s faction boasted a diverse spread of synergies—mercenary, swordsman, brawler, and gunslinger—leaving them largely unaffected by the articles. He expressed confidence that his position would hold firm.

But Liberthan’s circumstances were far from ideal, and the public response was uncertain.

The storm that swept through Trivik was triggered by a statement from the leader of the Azure Heaven Martial Faction^[note], ranked 8th in faction standings.

“The Magic Bullet Marksman will soon fall under our banner.”

An arrogant declaration.

The uproar was inevitable. He had taken direct aim at the Magic Bullet Marksman, a gunslinger faction ranked 6th in faction standings.

The remark ignited a fierce debate, and Trivik buzzed with controversy for some time.

Since both factions were headquartered in Trivik’s western region, speculation swirled that they might settle the score through the Colosseum.

However, the Magic Bullet Marksman camp issued no official response, and the controversy appeared to be fading without incident.

Yet the silent war of nerves between the members of both factions persisted. After several skirmishes erupted, Trivik began spiraling into chaos.

Perhaps to quell the unrest.

Garos—the faction ranked 1st and the dominant power of Trivik.

Its leader, Guilty Garos, personally announced that he would host a private battlefield.

The format was extraordinarily unconventional. Preliminaries would be open to all players ranked within the top 999 in faction standings, followed by main rounds.

In effect, this placed no meaningful restrictions on any player in Trivik.

Given the sheer scale of the private battlefield, people buzzed with curiosity about the prize. When the reward was finally revealed, the entire city erupted like a volcano.

Guilty Garos had put up a ‘lowest-grade augmentation body’ as the prize.

A reward so staggering that it dwarfed even item combination formulas—all eyes were fixed on the proceedings.

To compound matters, rumors had begun circulating about ruins in the Regalavak Great Plains of the northern region, drawing a surge of players from outside the city.

Tempted by the augmentation body reward, these outsiders sought out factions to join, plunging the once-entrenched faction landscape into a vortex of chaos.

A mere two weeks before registration closed, the final count of registered players already stood at 94.

Factoring in the players drawn by rumor, projections estimated that over 200 players would ultimately participate in the Garos Private battlefield.

The butterfly effect triggered by a single article in the Rorte Newsletter.

People grew curious about who had spread the hardcore assassin deck. Those who had suffered from it harbored hostility toward the name printed in the article, while those who had benefited developed a measure of goodwill—elevating the name’s reputation either way.

The owner of the hardcore assassin deck, the one who had declared war on the Holy King—that name was none other than ‘Meta.’

A name they would be seeing frequently in the Rorte Newsletter from here on out.

***

Creak-!

I stepped into the Arrow of the Blue Sky’s office, my face concealed beneath a thick robe.

A quick glance from the corner of my eye revealed two men inside.

According to the intelligence Jay had provided, the gray-haired man was the faction leader, Phil Kruger, and the brown-haired man was Freud, the one who truly ran things here.

The brown-haired man before me was the one I’d actually need to negotiate with.

“A pleasure to meet you.”

Despite my greeting, they regarded me with puzzled eyes. I casually rolled back my sleeve and operated my device.

Vwoomm-

A symbol floated into the air.

It was none other than the Player’s Emblem.

“What brings a player to a place like this…”

A voice thick with tension reached me. Most players in Trivik belonged to upper-tier factions.

Freud prided himself on having done nothing to draw the ire of any major faction, but players were notoriously unpredictable, and a measure of nervousness was unavoidable.

“I heard the Garos Private battlefield is being held in Trivik.”

“Garos? Are you referring to Garos, the faction ranked 1st in Trivik?”

His expression screamed that this was news to him.

I glanced at the desk and spotted a first-edition newsletter from quite some time ago. It seemed they were woefully out of touch with current events in Trivik.

Well, this particular private battlefield wasn’t the sort of thing that would interest anyone who wasn’t a player, so their ignorance wasn’t entirely surprising.

Good thing I’d brought a copy just in case. This could have dragged on forever.

Swish-

“Would you mind taking a look at this?”

“Isn’t this… a newsletter?”

“Yes, today’s edition.”

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Freud quickly scanned through the articles in the newsletter to grasp the situation.

As the office fell silent, the man standing behind Freud—Phil Kruger, leader of the Arrow of the Blue Sky—spoke up.

It was a somewhat unexpected remark.

“You carry the scent of nature about you. Have you visited a forest recently, by any chance?”

“No. I’ve only just arrived in Trivik from Artemis.”

“Is that so. My apologies.”

‘What was that about?’

A wistful sorrow was etched across Phil Kruger’s face, as though he yearned for something lost.

The newsletter wasn’t lengthy, and Freud soon finished reading and spoke up.

He wore an expression of astonishment.

“So this is what’s been happening. The Garos Private battlefield… Are you perhaps looking to join our faction, the Arrow of the Blue Sky, to participate in it?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Why us, of all factions…”

An expression of utter bewilderment.

Even if joining a faction was necessary to qualify for participation, he couldn’t fathom why anyone would seek out a faction clinging to the very tail end of the rankings.

A player could join an upper-tier faction without any special conditions and receive proper treatment along with intelligence on private battlefields.

A dying faction with only two members left had nothing to offer.

“I have my reasons for keeping my face hidden. I needed a faction where I could operate quietly.”

“Ah…”

Freud’s expression turned uneasy.

Trivik sat somewhat beyond the Empire’s reach, making it a magnet for those who had committed crimes. Freud suspected this visitor might be cut from the same cloth.

No matter how desperate his faction’s situation, Freud had no desire to welcome a criminal into their ranks.

But his teacher and faction leader, Phil Kruger, spoke first.

“We will accept you. Feel free to use the name of the Arrow of the Blue Sky as you see fit.”

“Faction Leader?”

Freud stared at Phil Kruger with bewildered eyes.

It was unexpected.

I had anticipated rejection and prepared contingencies accordingly. To be accepted this readily?

Freud silently protested through his expression, unable to comprehend the decision, but Phil Kruger displayed an uncharacteristically firm resolve.

“I will handle this matter.”

Phil Kruger was the faction leader, after all, and Freud could not openly voice his opposition.

Phil Kruger continued.

“Will your companion waiting outside be joining us as well?”

Flinch.

How did he know?

Chasey had been confident she could conceal her presence, yet she’d been discovered in an instant.

Phil Kruger offered a faint smile.

“With a forest scent that potent, how could I, a member of the Forest Race, fail to notice?”

‘The Forest Race?’

That detail hadn’t been in Jay’s intelligence report. It seemed there had been some gaps in the information.

Since no hostility was apparent, I called Chasey into the office. She, too, wore a thick robe pulled low, just as she had during our first encounter.

Phil Kruger’s eyes widened as he registered her presence.

“This person is…?!”

It was a reaction more intense than anything he had ever displayed, and Freud was equally startled.

“Faction Leader?”

‘What’s going on?’

Things were unfolding differently from the plan. Chasey mouthed the question at me, but before I could respond, Phil Kruger moved.

Thud-!

Phil Kruger dropped to his knees on the floor. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes.

“Are you… Lady Raksha? Have you come to seek out someone as lowly as myself?”

Chasey flustered and gestured frantically.

“No! I think you have the wrong person…”

“…You’re not?”

The voice that reached him didn’t match his memory. Realizing his mistake, Phil Kruger awkwardly rose to his feet, his face flushed with embarrassment.

A brief silence descended.

Freud had turned his head away as if sharing in the embarrassment, the tips of his ears faintly red.

Phil Kruger broke the silence first. His voice was distant, as though recalling a cherished memory.

“It has been a very long time since I’ve encountered someone with such a profound forest scent. It was a misunderstanding, but you truly carry an aura reminiscent of Lady Raksha.”

“Who exactly is this Raksha?”

“You don’t know of Lady Raksha?”

Phil Kruger was even more bewildered than Chasey. If she were an elf, there was no way she wouldn’t know of Lady Raksha… Could it be that she wasn’t an elf?

Considering the possibility, Phil Kruger cautiously spoke.

“Are you… perhaps not of the elven race?”

“No, I’m human. Both my father and mother were human.”

Phil Kruger’s confusion was palpable.

She didn’t appear to be lying. Yet something about her continued to stir his senses, which could only mean she was no ordinary human.

Regardless, the misunderstanding had led to a breach of etiquette, and an apology was in order.

Phil Kruger bowed his head.

“Please accept my apologies for the discourtesy.”

“It’s quite alright.”

Though bewildered by the inexplicable situation, Chasey readily accepted the apology.

Having caused quite the commotion, Phil Kruger retreated and sealed his lips tightly once more.

Freud, who had been quietly observing, finally interjected.

“So, am I to understand that both of you wish to join our faction?”

“Yes. This friend here is also a player. Surely you could make room for two?”

“Hmm…”

Freud fell silent, visibly troubled. His next words were not encouraging.

“I’m sorry, but our faction is likely to fall out of the rankings soon. If your goal is the Garos Private battlefield, wouldn’t you be better off looking elsewhere?”

Faction rankings factored in the combined strength of all members, and with their ranks depleted, they would fall outside the rankings after the next refresh.

With the ranking refresh date fast approaching, participating in the Garos Private battlefield under the Arrow of the Blue Sky banner would be impossible.

“We still have about two days, don’t we?”

But I was confident.

Two days was enough time to participate in at least one private battlefield.

Freud seemed to grasp my meaning and nodded.

Then Freud reached into his desk drawer and withdrew something. He handed one to each of us—tokens bearing an arrow insignia.