Chapter 689 – Call It a Diversion Operation (3)
Blood surged backward in his veins. His consciousness dimmed. One thought drifted up like fog.
‘Foolish of you, Elsidor. Too short-sighted.’
It was obvious where you would hide.
The Ten Thrones, hidden in reality.
Unlike the Arcana continent, the world of adventurers offered few places for the Ten Thrones to disappear. Possession could mask one’s presence completely, but it also meant imprisoning oneself within the limits of a human body.
-“Hey, isn’t that Elsidor?”
-“Everyone, Elsidor’s tending flowers!”
-“Quick, take a picture!”
Just as Elsidor himself found attention irritating, the Ten Thrones could not escape prying eyes. In the adventurers’ world, news spread at the speed of light.
But—
‘I didn’t expect my own actions to come back to me like this.’
It wasn’t China.
After the dissolution of the “Heavenly Unity,” China was plagued by endless civil wars—both among players and between ordinary people.
Watching this, Elsidor had once spoken seriously:
Should I just kill them all?
-“Weed out the weeds.”
He recalled Kinver’s horrified expression.
-“Given the scale, there’s no choice. You know what this country’s nickname is? The Mainland! Unless you want to pull some Liu Zhunqun nonsense, we can only wait and see. It’s not just me—surely even the Supreme Commander would think so.”
You’d think the same.
With those words, Elsidor had been patient. For the first time in his life, he learned what patience was. And truthfully, waiting and watching wasn’t all that difficult.
-“Don’t you ever get tired?”
-“What does ‘tired’ mean, trash?”
-“Forget it. Well, your sense of time is different from ours, anyway.”
He was an elf—unchanging, capable of living forever. There was value in restraining his surging anger. Sometimes he even thought—
-“Not much different from a plant.”
-“…You mean you’re going to turn them all into vegetables?”
-“What’s a vegetable person?”
-“Never mind. If it’s not that, then fine.”
The Garden of Dignity.
Kinver had dismissed it lightly, unaware of how Elsidor actually tended the elixir plants in his garden—but the words held heavy meaning.
Yes—
-“An elf who would give his life for humans. How curious.”
Curious enough to draw the interest of Agares, one of the Ten Thrones.
I was defenseless.
With negative emotions overflowing and vast lands to occupy, looking back, China had been the only place the Ten Thrones could nest. Elsidor blamed himself.
The gap was inevitable. It’s just…
He had gone on an expedition to Hell. Naturally, he had to leave China—but the absence wasn’t long. Fortunately, it seemed the Supreme Commander had achieved his goal sooner than expected.
‘I suppose my lingering attachment is to blame.’
Before and after the Hell expedition, the change in your eyes had driven him into torment. As Kinver had said, his different sense of time had become poison. He could still hear Kinver shouting—
-“Elsidor, how many days are you going to hole up in your room?!”
Yes—this disaster was his own doing.
Elsidor slowly rose from where he had been sprawled.
Agares’s eyes gleamed with interest.
“Truly, a being to rival dragons. To stand again with a body little better than rags… Or perhaps you simply have regrets too great to accept death, elf soaked in blood.”
Regrets.
Yes, he had one—just one. It entered his vision.
Kinver.
He was dead. There wasn’t even room for false hope—Kinver had already been swallowed by that demon’s gut.
By the time Elsidor realized it, Agares had already built his kingdom. It couldn’t compare to the demon world of old, but countless demons were expanding their power.
-“Damn it!”
Kinver had died fighting to stop that demon—no different from the other adventurers who had fallen beside him. Before the overwhelming presence of the Ten Thrones, all met an equal end.
Elsidor murmured inwardly—
We’ll have dinner together in Hell, Kinver.
His senses told him—
Agares—there was no way he could stop the second Demon King. The only reason he could even stand now was because Agares found him amusing. The moment that interest faded, the ravenous demons would devour him.
Shrring—
But Elsidor did not retreat. He had lived a life soaked in blood—what a joke it would be to fear death now.
If there was another lingering attachment beyond regret, it was—
‘That I can no longer follow in your footsteps.’
What lay at the end of your path? What could it be, that even the World Tree had been shaken?
I hate complicated things.
He didn’t want to judge whether that path was right or wrong.
His own standards were already beyond repair.
Yes—being unable to follow you. That alone was the one lingering regret left to an elf who had lived for ages.
“My interest is gone.”
An elf’s negative emotions—he had hoped for a different flavor. But he felt nothing.
“No different from that human.”
Kinver.
Agares could read a human’s life in their eyes alone. Yet contrary to expectation, Kinver—villain among villains—had been a poor meal.
Especially the aftertaste.
Hoping to cleanse his palate with the rare delicacy of an elf’s negativity, Agares instead turned away.
“Eat it cleanly.”
Thud, thud, thud.
A massive demon advanced toward Elsidor. He could sense it—this was a legion commander serving the Ten Thrones.
Careful, Agares.
If his body were intact, he could at least match this one. But Agares had taken no risks. He moved first to eliminate the sole variable, Elsidor.
He must have learned from watching the other Thrones fall.
As proof, Agares wasted no unnecessary time.
Craaaack.
A rift opened in the direction he moved.
Beyond it, Elsidor spotted a familiar structure—the Magic Tower. That was when he realized Agares’s destination was Seoul.
“Why…?”
The question arose purely from confusion.
“A demon, and yet…!”
The most troublesome thing about demons?
They could hide their identities through possession.
Yet Agares was preparing for open war with Seoul—openly revealing his kingdom.
“If that’s your last request, I’ll answer it.”
To Elsidor’s question, Agares replied—
“What I desire is to be a Lord.”
A Lord…?
Born of anomaly, he was accustomed to learning completely different systems of knowledge. His experience possessing players helped.
By studying the Arcana continent’s Chronicles system, Agares had conceived a way to become Seoul’s true [Lord].
Someone might ask, as this dying elf did—
“A Lord? You speak words no one will acknowledge.”
To be lord, one must meet certain conditions—maintaining order, earning the people’s support, and more—each a formidable hurdle.
But for Agares, these posed no great problem.
【Do you truly think so】
The Master of Words.
“…!”
Agares had not issued Elsidor any command or pressure—yet Elsidor felt it. This being could become an unprecedented threat.
He already knows how to ascend the throne.
And if he combined that with the power to control others—
Dangerous.
Agares would be reborn as Lord of Seoul, land of anomaly. Elsidor imagined it—countless players and Magic Tower mages obeying Agares’s will.
【Have you only now realized it】
At that voice, his mind began to blur again.
…Grip.
Mustering his last strength, Elsidor clutched the dagger’s hilt and lunged toward Agares. But—
Bang!
He could not stop Agares from stepping toward Seoul.
A vast shadow fell over him. As Agares had said, Elsidor’s fate was in the hands of his legion commanders now.
“Khuk…”
Blood poured uncontrollably.
…Damn.
Was this the end?
His vision dimmed. His eyelids grew heavy, heavier than the helplessness of a body that could not move a finger.
Ttogak… ttogak…
Heavy steps and labored breaths drew closer. Just as he thought all was over, an elf’s senses caught a disturbance.
…Something was wrong.
“?”
If it were over, it should have ended already—yet there was no pain. No sound of blood gurgling, no drool dripping from the legion commander’s maw.
Struggling, Elsidor forced his eyes open. And he saw—his back.
“…Supreme Commander?”
Time had stopped.
More precisely, it was as if only the Supreme Commander, himself, and the legion commander existed in this frozen moment.
As proof, demons continued leaping endlessly through the portal Agares had opened.
No way…
Did you come to save me?
Elsidor cried out urgently—now was not the time to worry about him.
“…I’m fine. No—having seen you, I can die without regret. Leave me and stop the Ten Thrones. He’s dangerous!”
Even after shouting, Elsidor flinched. How did he have the strength to raise his voice, when moments ago he’d been on the brink of death?
No, it’s not that I have strength left.
Healing magic? No—it wasn’t that either. It was as if he’d been returned to a time before the wounds.
Staring at Hoyeol’s back, Elsidor was astonished.
When did you gain such a power?
But there was no time to marvel. Forcing his mind to focus, Elsidor spoke with hard-earned adventurer knowledge—
“His goal is to be Seoul’s lord. As you know, he has the power of ‘Word’ to make it real. If we just watch—!”
And then—
“A Lord.”
Hoyeol turned to look at Elsidor. Their eyes met—and Elsidor realized at once that what the Supreme Commander saw was not merely a tree… nor even a forest, but perhaps the nature itself.
“Then all the more reason to watch.”
.
.
.
In the previous cycle, Lee Hoyeol really showed his true colors.
What a nasty hobby, seriously.
Yes—
In the previous cycle, Lee Hoyeol had ascended to the throne of Seoul.
And not just once, but multiple times.
What that implied, paradoxically, was that the “Lord of Seoul” operation had been a failure.
After all, the fact that he succeeded and yet still moved on to the next cycle could only mean that.
Which meant… in the next cycle, things had to change.
That must have been what the Lee Hoyeol of the previous round thought.
That’s why he left arrangements behind.
The title of [Tyrant]… the one who tramples even [Lords].
Hearing the word “tyrant” brings to mind Liu Zhunqun of the Heavenly Unity.
But I refuse to be put in the same category.
My path as a tyrant will be a little different.
As proof of that, I asked Elsidor—
“Will you follow me?”
“…?”
“Upon the Tyrant’s path.”
…To that cringe-worthy line, Elsidor, thankfully, replied—
“I will follow.”
Thank you, truly.
Not just once, but many times over.
“Whether that path be right… or wrong.”