“Is there a reason you’re rushing the operation like this?”
“......”
“I’ve already said it, but the Northern Continent isn’t exactly an easy place to deal with, you know? Sure, preparing quickly isn’t bad, but two days? That seems a little extre...”
After staring blankly at Whitney for a while, Ember finally opened her mouth with an expression that made it clear she didn’t understand at all.
“We depart in two days. The objective is to acquire the Demon King’s power within one week from now.”
“...Excuse ? That’s impossible.”
“...Why?”
“I an, isn’t it physically impossible?”
She shook her head in disbelief and began to explain.
“First of all, we’re on the Western Continent, right? To even get to the Northern Continent, we’d need to sail for several months at minimum...”
“We can use the ‘Shadow Corridor’ that black mages employ.”
“Okay, but that’s not so kind of magic cure-all. Sure, it’s almost a cure-all, but it still has conditions.”
Ember’s voice quickly shifted into a technically detailed tone.
“For example, you need coordinate values down to the decimal points across the X, Y, and Z axes. And that’s not even the worst part. Even with a small elite group, we’d still need at least ten people, and the mana cost alone would cripple us. Best case scenario? You don’t get launched into the sky or dumped into the ocean...”
“......”
“And even if it works, how do we co back? The Shadow Corridor connects across the world, yes—but it’s one-way. You can’t use it again to return.”
Despite all that, Ember wasn’t really expecting Whitney to understand what she was saying.
Usually, the mastermind characters in stories were the types who, when their subordinates raised perfectly logical objections, would just glare nacingly and bark out sothing like, “Make it happen by tomorrow,” without a care in the world.
Not that Ember disliked that ruthlessness—actually, she kind of liked it—but this was real life, and she had no choice.
“How about this instead? I already have a route planned. Just hear out. If we cut through the Millpauner Strait and chart a detour, we can minimize attacks from sea monsters, and if we’re lucky, we could even catch a current that’ll shave off two weeks or so...”
“I already know the coordinates.”
“...Hold on. What did you just say?”
Just as she was about to explain her carefully prepared theory, Whitney’s words made her freeze.
“Wait... You’re not talking about the polar point, are you? Sorry, but that’s way off from where the dragons nest...”
“I am talking about where the dragons live.”
“...How do you even know that?”
She asked in disbelief, genuinely wondering if her ears had betrayed her.
“Do you want to know?”
“...No, actually.”
But the mont Whitney lowered his voice, Ember quickly answered without hesitation, realizing—perhaps for the first ti—that there are things in this world you really don’t need to understand.
“Then how do you plan to handle the mana requirent?”
“It’ll just be the two of us.”
“Aha, just the two of... Excuse ? The two of us?”
“Then mana consumption shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
But this ti, Ember couldn’t respond imdiately.
“Well, sure, I guess mana won’t be a problem. But then we’ll both die to a dragon, won’t we?”
“...Not if we don’t get caught. That’s why we’re keeping the numbers low.”
“Y-You’re not wrong. But dragons aren’t easy opponents, you know?”
“I know that too.”
At that point, Ember fell silent. Sothing felt off.
Sothing’s... strange. Like we’re talking past each other.
She was sure she was having a conversation with Whitney—words were being exchanged, ideas discussed.
But if she actually looked at the content of the conversation, none of it made any damn sense.
“Did I forget to ntion it? The equipnt required to awaken the Demon King is being guarded by the Dragon Lord. Even if the infiltration goes well, there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to get past the final barrier.”
“......”
“So at the very least, we should bring a few executive mbers. Even if they can’t win, they can at least buy ti—”
“Unnecessary.”
Now Ember began to wonder: Does Whitney actually have so kind of ace up his sleeve?
Because if he didn’t, then this so-called ‘operation’ was nothing short of a suicide mission.
“I’ll handle the Dragon Lord.”
“...You’ll handle the Dragon Lord?”
“Yes. So there’s no need to worry.”
“You do know the Dragon Lord is absurdly powerful, right...?”
She looked at him with growing concern.
“You’re quite amusing, Miss Ember.”
“...What?”
“You keep assuming that fighting is the default option in every situation.”
Whitney suddenly leaned forward, wearing an expression full of curiosity.
“Back in that ga-world you talked about, it seems you took quite a combative approach to things.”
“T-That’s because...”
“Did you ever kill ?”
Ember hesitated for a mont, then scratched her head and gave an honest answer.
“You were the only one I couldn’t kill.”
“Oh?”
“That was because it was systemically impossible, you know? Like, it just wasn’t allowed by—”
“I’m not particularly interested in the specifics.”
Whitney cut off her explanation with a gentle shake of the head and a whisper.
“But let say one thing. Resolving everything through combat isn’t always the best mindset.”
“...Then what is?”
“There are plenty of ways to win without fighting.”
Ember, a little indignant, pushed back.
“Sure, I agree in theory. But do you have any idea how violent dragons are?”
“Hmm, I guess you still don’t get it.”
Once again, Whitney interrupted her—this ti with a kind smile and a question.
“For example, let’s say you wanted to take control of the Elven Kingdom deep in the Great Forest of the Western Continent, where elves as warlike as dragons live. What would you do?”
“...Burn down the World Tree, first.”
She answered without hesitation, her eyes glinting.
“The elves draw their power from the World Tree. If we remove the source—”
“Yes, that would definitely weaken the high elves and the spirits. But what then?”
Whitney frowned slightly and interjected.
“...What do you an, ‘what then’?”
“The Elven Kingdom is allied with several nations. Burning the World Tree would most likely provoke outrage from neighboring countries and organizations.”
“But wouldn’t I still achieve my goal?”
At that mont, Ember finally realized why she had felt so out of sync during this entire conversation.
“True victory,” Whitney said, “is achieving your goal while accounting for what happens after. Miss Ember.”
Whitney Ringaarden... was far, far too different from her.
If Ember was the type to charge in head-first, relying on her physical prowess and combat skills—
Then Whitney Ringaarden was the kind of strategist who strangled his enemy from the roots.
Frankly, Ember didn’t like that.
That exact mindset was what had kept her from ever reclaiming her #1 ranking in the past.
“So then, Mr. Whitney, how would you do it?”
Her tone turned slightly rebellious, but Whitney rely smiled and began to explain.
“Well... one day, the World Tree starts to wither. Slowly, over ti.”
“...What?”
“The high elves and the spirits panic, of course. They search desperately for the cause... but find nothing.”
Ember’s brow furrowed further with each word.
“And then—at the perfect mont—I appear and offer them a solution.”
“Uh...”
“But of course, I can’t reveal the answer all at once. I offer it step by ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) step, dragging things out and squeezing everything I can from them.”
Finally, Ember couldn’t take it anymore and cut in.
“Okay, I get the general idea. But I still don’t fully understand.”
“What part don’t you understand?”
“Well, doesn’t your whole plan depend on the World Tree withering in the first place? That’s assuming a random event occurs.”
The corners of Whitney’s mouth lifted.
And then he laughed.
“Ha... Haha, ahaha...”
“...!?”
Ember frowned, confused.
“Random event? There’s no such thing as randomness. What looks like coincidence is actually a ticulously constructed inevitability.”
At his cryptic response, Ember found herself on the brink of giving up trying to understand.
“The withering of the World Tree doesn’t have to be a coincidence. It can be... arranged.”
“...But how—”
At that mont, Ember flinched.
A mory surfaced.
Wasn’t he soone who’d seen this world’s future already? she thought.
And then, as if reading her mind, Whitney chid in smoothly.
“You’re a bit slow on the uptake, aren’t you?”
“...No way.”
A terrifying thought struck Ember like lightning.
Was the mysterious blight that struck the Great Forest in the original ga... his doing?
In the mid-to-late parts of Blacktail Fantasy 3, there was a massive catastrophe that hit the elves’ territory.
The cause? Unknown.
The culprit? Never found.
But that was supposed to happen long after the current tiline. Whitney should have no way of knowing about it.
Unless—
“W-When did you start planning all this? How far ahead are you thinking?”
If Whitney had orchestrated the Great Forest plague this early on...
Then he hadn’t died in the original tiline.
No. That would an—
Whitney Ringaarden had faked his death in the original story.
And from the shadows... controlled everything.
“...Who are you, really?”
That’s what it implied.
If it were true, then Whitney Ringaarden wasn’t just a character.
He was the greatest mastermind of the entire world setting.
“Do you want to know?”
“...Wait, was my appearance in all this part of the plan, too—”
She stopped herself before finishing the question.
“...Never mind.”
“......”
“Beautiful weather today, isn’t it? Haha...”
She suddenly looked up at the sky, forcing a smile and changing the subject.
“In any case, I’ll take that as your agreent to the plan.”
“......”
“Now then, I must be off. I’m due to visit my sister.”
Whitney smiled faintly at her, gave a small nod, and turned to walk back toward the mansion.
Wait, he still hasn’t told how we’re supposed to get back from the Northern Continent after seizing the Demon King’s power in a week...
Finally catching her breath, Ember froze as a new thought crept into her mind—chilling her to the bone.
...Don’t tell that part’s already planned, too?
***
“...Shit. What do I do?”
anwhile, Whitney was walking quietly down a hallway in the mansion.
“...So the Shadow Corridor isn’t a perfect solution?”
He clutched his head and started muttering in visible panic.
“How the hell am I supposed to get back in a week...?”
Sweat trickled down his temple at this unexpected complication.
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