391. Illusion Barrier Trial (3)
The moment I stepped into the trial, all that filled my vision was a surging tide of green.
“Krrrk─!”
“Kyaaak!”
“Krrr……”
The forest clearing, behind, and above the trees.
Goblins, packed in so tight they seemed ready to burst, each gripping a sword and dripping saliva.
‘Ah, so it starts here.’
The 《Camella’s Cave》 where I first met Lee Yuri and we teamed up.
Facing the horde of goblins radiating a malevolent aura, a faint smirk touched my lips.
‘Honestly, there wasn’t any need to replicate even this initial part so faithfully.’
After all, even if the numbers tripled, they wouldn’t pose much of a threat.
“Well, I suppose it’s not a bad warm-up, is it?”
*
Meanwhile, Lee Yuri, who had entered ahead of me, was witnessing the same spectacle.
The memory of the moment she first met Jin Yuha surfaced, drawing a soft chuckle from between her teeth.
“Hmm, back then, I really thought I was done for…”
Even though those goblins, which had felt so overwhelming, were now doubled in number, they didn’t exude the same oppressive feeling.
Nevertheless, a sense of tension surged within her.
The reality that she was truly alone, without Jin Yuha, began to sink in.
‘Can I do this?’
There was no Jin Yuha to rescue her from danger, no other party members.
Could she, with virtually no impressive attack skills, really make it through this trial?
“… Maybe, instead of ending it with just a hug, I should have just kissed him and been done with it?”
She regretted that she had only embraced him, feeling slightly embarrassed with all the party members watching.
Tch.
“Too late to worry about that now.”
Lee Yuri took a large step forward, grounding herself.
She stood with her feet shoulder-width apart, right foot pulled back for balance.
‘For now, keep Taunt sealed away. Let’s just do what I can, to the best of my ability.’
“Keeeek!”
Three goblins charged at Lee Yuri simultaneously.
A sword flashed towards her head.
Lee Yuri ducked slightly, raising her shield.
*Ting!*
And at the same moment, she pushed out with her shield, sending the goblin flying.
*Kwaaang!!!!*
“… W-what?”
Lee Yuri stammered in bewildered tones.
After all, she had just given a light shove, yet the goblin’s body had soared through the air like some kind of shot put, turning other goblins into mincemeat.
Yuri scratched at her cheek, face a touch sheepish.
“This… why is it so… easy?”
And that peculiar sensation, it seemed the other party members felt it too.
*
*WHOOSH-* *CRUNNNNCH!*
As Im Gaeul spun a thread of pure mana, dozens of goblin heads went flying.
*THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!*
“Huh…?”
Sophia’s volley of arrows curved and weaved, piercing through scores of goblin heads and necks in an instant.
“…Huh? What *is* this?”
*WHoooM-*
*KRA-KOOM! KRA-KOOM! KRA-KOOM! KRA-KOOM! KRA-KOOM!*
Ichika’s shadows began to ravage the goblin horde in a blink.
“… Difficulty setting failure?”
* * *
“Ha.”
Left outside, Rina watched the party’s battle on a holographic screen, a dry laugh escaping her lips.
It was like a Tyrannosaurus rampaging through a flock of sheep.
Utopia was just *shredding* the goblins.
“Reverse adaptation,” Shin Sehee said, setting gemstones as she watched the hologram alongside her.
“…Reverse adaptation?”
“Yes, up until now, our party didn’t really understand how strong we’d become.”
“?”
Rina’s look was questioning, so Shin Sehee elaborated.
“As you know, we’ve been following Jin Yuha, always choosing the most challenging battlefields.”
It was true.
Utopia, led by Jin Yuha, who was always preparing for the end, had only experienced dangerous, punishing battlefields where one moment of carelessness could mean death.
And they’d relentlessly whipped themselves to grow stronger in a world without gacha,
enduring Jin Yuha’s grueling training sessions, dedicating every spare moment to honing their skills.
As a result, the members of Utopia had never truly felt their own growth.
“No, even so…”
“Well, there were voices praising us, but we probably just thought this level of strength was normal.”
The source of this misconception was none other than…
The black-haired man who had nearly obliterated the goblins with a single swing of his sword.
He was gazing back and forth between the sword and goblin remains with a dazed expression.
It was Jin Yuha.
Watching him grow exponentially day by day from right beside you, it was impossible not to feel like you were standing still.
Yet, Utopia too, was growing steadily and at a far faster rate than they had in the game.
They were charting a growth curve that bordered on the unbelievable.
It was the first time these party members truly grasped their own advancement, and they beamed with delight.
“You mean, they never even registered how monumental their accomplishments were…?”
Lina asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
Shin Sehee offered a faint smile.
“Well, I knew, of course. I kept tabs on the skill level of other parties.”
“…No, you kept it from us.”
“Now, that’s not quite it. I simply insisted on constraints, imposed limitations during easier skirmishes, so they’d glean experience even in those simpler encounters.”
“…Isn’t that the same as keeping it from us?”
Lina regarded Shin Sehee with a skeptical expression.
“But, what exactly are you up to?”
“Hmm, I’m going to be doing some rather… unsavory things on the world stage. And every time I do, voices will inevitably rise, asking, ‘Where is Utopia? What are they doing?'”
“…That’s true.”
Lina nodded, having heard Jin Yuha’s plans as well.
The monopolization of every gate in the world.
And the construction of shelters and emergency drills across the globe.
Even with Utopia’s established reputation, it was bound to draw ire.
Perhaps even greater feelings of betrayal, precisely *because* Utopia had become the world’s heroes.
“So, by airing this video, I intend to demonstrate that Utopia isn’t idle. It’ll offer a counterpoint to the ‘What is Jin Yuha doing?’ question.”
At that point, Lina began to piece together Shin Sehee’s scheme.
“…You wretch.”
Shin Sehee, not Utopia, would be stepping into the limelight to carry out those plans.
In truth, Shin Sehee intended to operate under the banner of the ‘Shin Family,’ not Utopia.
The groundwork was already being laid, slowly but surely.
Whispers were circulating that Shin Sehee was considering leaving Utopia.
The rumors painted a picture of Shin Sehee, now in command, threatening Jin Yuha’s position, and the other party members being disgruntled about it.
Indeed, a recording of the party members voicing their grievances on the day Shin Sehee first took command was subtly making the rounds online.
“You intend to shoulder the world’s resentment all by yourself?”
Lina stared intently at Shin Sehee.
To endure the scorn of the entire world, alone.
It was hardly an easy undertaking.
Shin Sehee chuckled softly in response.
“Well, it’s not quite as grand as that. I don’t mind, you see. Utopia needs to remain heroes. I, however, am under no such obligation.”
“…”
“Besides, the shadowy puppet master, finally revealing their ambitions to the world, only for it to turn out that it was all for the greater good? How could I resist?”
Shin Sehee smiled faintly, her voice light as a feather.
* * *
Meanwhile,
Utopia’s Sub-Party.
“From this moment forward, we belong to Shinga, not Utopia.”
Lee Min-young announced, her voice rigid, to the assembled party leaders.
“We were never the main force in Utopia, but a sub-party. Our accumulated frustrations have reached a boiling point. We haven’t received the spotlight we deserved, nor the compensation we were due.”
But this wasn’t entirely true.
Those who joined Utopia’s sub-party all owed Utopia a debt of the heart, big or small.
After all, every party member was a playable character in Velvetstra.
Each of them possessed their own individual story,
and Utopia had taken it upon themselves to nurture it.
Someone’s mother’s illness was cured.
Someone achieved their revenge,
and someone else had the door to their dreams, thought to be forever closed, flung open once more.
Still another found their lost family.
In that way, everyone owed Utopia. Someone their life, someone their family, someone the meaning of their existence.
Practically speaking, they’d pledged their very bones.
That’s why she could entrust this to them.
“And as part of Shinga, we will aggressively clear every gate across the globe.”
The party leaders nodded, their faces hardened. In their eyes, a resolution burned.
A guiltiness seeped in, as if they were turning their backs on the Utopia they were indebted to.
But they knew this was the “real” way to repay that debt.
“From now on, we are ‘traitors.’ We will be branded as betrayers who defile Utopia’s name. But…”
She raised her head, looking at each of them.
“This is how we truly repay our debt to Utopia. By bearing the world’s condemnation in their stead.”
Hesitation vanished from their eyes. All that remained was unwavering resolve.
“From this moment on, Operation ‘Shadow’ begins.”