Ch.55Naba Forest Mountain++

# 55. Naba Forest Mountain++

‘What the heck.’

With adjacent directions, it could happen. The path might not simply go east or north, but could head northeast. In such cases, choosing one direction and continuing a bit further usually helped clarify things.

If correct, we could keep going; if not, we’d turn back and try the other direction.

Of course, this came with the prerequisite of remembering directions and step counts precisely since there were no helpful signposts here, and we couldn’t rule out the possibility of falling into a trap before turning back, but…

What should one do when wind sounds are claimed to come from completely opposite directions—east and west?

‘The wind sounds might be random, but there should only be one path.’

Wait a minute.

Could there possibly be two paths? And one of them might be a trap?

‘No. That can’t be it.’

If that were the case, this wouldn’t just be an added gimmick. It would fundamentally change everything.

Strictly speaking, it was more like I wanted to believe that. Things had been fairly consistent until now.

‘Being too optimistic leads nowhere, but being too suspicious prevents progress.’

If I started doubting the fundamental structure, taking even one step forward would become truly terrifying. This wasn’t a game where you could just respawn after dying.

Eventually, there might come a point where this diverged significantly from the game I knew (or maybe it would remain similar throughout), but I hoped—and judged—that now wasn’t that time.

So I chose one of the two options.

‘Lead the way.’

‘Okie!’

I poked Saex’s shoulder and pointed east. We changed our formation with her smiling brightly at the center.

Now she was north (the direction we were heading, for convenience), Cutjukyeora was west, Yebeobnojeong was south, and I was east.

‘It makes sense to rely on Yuri’s superior senses, including her hearing.’

For a while, we walked along with only the sound of our footsteps, but when someone raised their hand, we immediately stopped.

It was Yebeobnojeong.

‘Huh? What’s going on?’

Neither Saex, nor I, nor Cutjukyeora felt a different wind, so why would Yebeobnojeong, who was in the exact opposite direction from Saex…

“Wait. Let’s talk.”

“Subin. Is this right?”

“Hold on. I think something’s strange too.”

We broke our silence and huddled together while maintaining our directions.

“Subin unni. I hate to say this, but could you have misheard?”

“At first, I thought I might have. I know Yuri’s senses are exceptionally good. But I heard it twice. There’s no way I’d mistake the same wind suddenly changing flow twice.”

“Captain. Has this happened before?”

“No.”

Let me correct myself.

Naba Forest Mountain is no longer an honest dungeon.

That bastard Mensima who babbled about waiting to see our despair beyond—is he actually sitting there munching popcorn and enjoying the show?

“Assuming Yuri’s initial direction was correct, this path has been right so far. But if that’s not the case, then it’s one of two things.”

“Either we simply entered the east path of an east-west fork…”

“Or Yuri misperceived.”

At my addition, Saex’s eyes wavered. Her shoulders, which had perked up slightly at my earlier choice, now drooped as if my confidence had been a lie.

“Oppa… I—”

“Shh. It’s just a hypothesis. Remember what happened with the tree theme? I told you not to feel guilty about these things. And Subin, is the wind still different?”

“Yes. Clearly different.”

‘This is maddening.’

I racked my brain. Fortunately, even if I couldn’t immediately solve the situation, I quickly thought of a way to find a clue.

“Let’s go back toward the first fork, all the way to where Subin raised her hand.”

“Ah! So we can check if Yuri feels a different wind again on the way!”

“Bingo. At least we can eliminate this confusion.”

The raid members agreed that resolving this uncertainty was better than proceeding with doubts.

“Subin. You remember the way?”

“Of course.”

While we’d check for wind sounds on the way back, returning accurately was crucial.

You know how being off by just 2 degrees at the starting point can result in an enormous error at the destination.

If that happened here, or if we discovered it even slightly too late, we could immediately fall into a trap.

So although I had counted my steps based on my current stride, I trusted the confident Yebeob-wiki… and once again, Yebeob-wiki didn’t betray my trust.

Thus, we safely returned to the point where different winds could be heard from “both sides.”

And this time, Saex and Yebeobnojeong raised their hands simultaneously.

Contrary to my initial denial, this result strongly suggested there really were two paths, but for now, I decided not to show my concern and explore a bit further in Yebeobnojeong’s direction.

Not long after, Saex raised her hand, just as Yebeobnojeong had done. The timing was similar.

Excluding the very slim possibility that Saex was playing a prank, the confusion was resolved, and there was only one conclusion.

“It’s not a single path.”

“There might be one exit with a fork in the road, or there could be two exits.”

Seonghyeon. What are you going to do?

Captain. What are your orders?

Oppa….

Words I could feel from the raid members’ gazes and expressions without them speaking.

At this point, I realized I had a kind of obsession—that if my source of confidence (the knowledge that game information was likely valid in the Tower) disappeared, I would no longer be a (somewhat) competent raid leader.

Because I had “kidnapped” these people. Because I had to take responsibility. The obsession that I couldn’t show any incompetence as a raid leader.

I had no right to criticize Yebeobnojeong for being a woman who hated showing weakness.

And I realized one more thing.

That these people were truly amazing, and I was just a lucky game nerd with a convenient setup.

‘As far as realizations go, this one’s neither cool nor particularly beneficial.’

Even though I kept telling myself that the game and the Tower were similar but subtly different, and that I shouldn’t blindly trust game information but only use it as a reference, my judgment criteria was still based on the game, making me anxious and fearful.

“Let’s keep moving forward.”

“Your reasoning?”

“I’ve decided to abandon preconceptions and consider that both paths might be correct. I’m choosing to trust the raid members’ instincts over the dungeon’s established rules.”

“…Confirmed.”

Just because I had this realization didn’t mean my anxiety about my greatest weapon potentially becoming useless immediately disappeared. Perhaps it wouldn’t vanish even when we reached the top of the Tower. This might be an unavoidable burden for a raid leader who has to make decisions.

Still, I decided to move forward. Because I had raid members far more capable than me who could cover for my mistakes.

After all, wasn’t I just a talking totem?

Maybe just maintaining my mental fortitude and staying alive was doing my part!

We advanced again with Yebeobnojeong in the lead. Saex, who was responsible for the opposite direction, reported that she still heard the anomalous wind sound, but we ignored it and pressed on.

That must be a new grape—no, a new wind.

That must be a siren’s wind.

Thinking this way, we stubbornly continued forward, turning right once and left once along the way.

‘Huh? I can’t hear it anymore!’

‘Really?’

Just as the discordant wind sound that had been bothering our ears suddenly stopped…

“Ha, haha. Hahahahaha…!”

Before we knew it, “a pair of trees swaying in the wind”—the exit of the second theme, Wind, and the entrance to the third theme, Forest—was welcoming us.

What a relief.

A true relief.

I embraced my raid members’ shoulders. They cheered at the sight of the magnificent pair of giant trees.

“Could it have been… a hallucination trap?”

“More precisely, I think both paths were correct all the way, but designed to make people like us who doubt go back and forth until we lose our way or reset.”

Even amid our celebration, Yebeobnojeong was analyzing the situation, and I exchanged opinions with her. She looked at me for a moment, then nodded and said:

“You have me.”

“Yes. Always reliable.”

“Hmph.”

Just so beautiful.

We were all exhausted both mentally and physically, but when I thought about it, we had conquered the second theme in what felt like less than half a day.

After maintaining a state of intense focus for quite a while, our tension finally released. Overcome by sudden hunger and fatigue, we took a more proper rest than our first break. Following the raid members’ opinion that sleeping wasn’t necessary, we passed through the pair of giant trees.

**

“Don’t just keep saying it’s hard and you’re dying—think about it. We’ve learned it’s impossible to return to Edengard. Whether it’s because the raid team that left before us passed through this floor faster, or because we can only meet other teams in neutral zones and not on sub-floors, we can’t form alliances with other raids. So once we’ve left Edengard, we have no choice but to fight our way up to the second floor’s neutral zone.”

“That may be true, but…”

“It’s hard. Of course it is. But we decided to take on this challenge. It wasn’t forced on us—we chose it. I didn’t want to say this because it might sound preachy, but if you’re going to give up this easily, then it’s not a challenge at all. It’s just a whim.”

“Ugh.”

The Golden Wings raid leader decided that, whether the others would desert later or stay until the end, right now he needed to be the true center.

Because at this rate, they were going nowhere.