00605 The massive trunk doesn’t change. …Or does it?
“Wait a moment.”
It was at that moment.
Just as my puzzlement hadn’t fully faded, Han So-young quickly cut off my brother’s words.
Her face was as cold and stiff as ice. Only then did I understand why she had interrupted him.
The Northwest Alliance.
An alliance between the West and the North.
At first, while we were in the middle of the campaign, the idea of an alliance felt out of place—completely unexpected.
But setting that aside, the weight carried by the word “alliance” is never light.
Above all, there are many ears listening right now.
If even one in ten people somehow leaked details about this, it would never bode well later. Rumors tend to get distorted.
“As for what you just mentioned… I think it’s better if we discuss that separately.”
Just as I suspected, Han So-young requested a one-on-one conversation. My brother nodded as if it didn’t matter to him, and the rest of us, including me, had no choice but to get up and leave.
…Honestly, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t curious, but this was not the time to mix business with personal interest.
“Just so you know, everything you hear in this tent today must be kept strictly confidential. No exceptions.”
Han So-young emphasized “no exceptions” as she warned us.
Before leaving the tent, I subtly signaled my brother to come to the tent where I was staying once she finished talking with him.
He returned my gesture with a bright smile.
My brother didn’t come to the tent until well past dinner time.
“Ah, Su-hyun~. I’m exhausted~. The Istanbul Low Road is seriously tough… Huh? Su-hyun?”
As soon as he entered, he stretched out and groaned, but I grabbed his shoulder and forced him into a chair. He looked at me, clearly flustered.
“I thought I’d die waiting for you. Now, spill it. Come on, tell me.”
I urged him, and he slumped his shoulders, looking utterly pitiful.
“…Dear little brother, can’t I rest just a bit? I was tortured to death by Istanbul Low Road until just now.”
“Fine, but talk while you rest.”
“Please… think about how hard it is for me to repeat myself.”
“So you’re not going to tell me? Really?”
I glared at him sharply. The next line I had ready was, “Fine. Then do as you please.” My tone was sharp.
Sensing this, he lowered his head in resignation. Then he grabbed a drink from the small table, gulped it down, and let out a heavy sigh.
“Tch… If you’re going to be like that, I have no choice. So, what exactly are you so curious about?”
“Of course I want to know everything. What happened while we were campaigning? And what was Lee Hyo-eul up to?”
“Oh, right. Lee Hyo-eul told me to pass this on: ‘It’s not my fault, so don’t blame me!’”
“……”
For some reason, I could almost hear Lee Hyo-eul’s voice playing automatically in my head, so I stayed silent for a moment.
After a bitter laugh, my brother slowly rubbed his chin and nodded.
“Well, fine. I was planning to tell you anyway. …But there’s one condition.”
“A condition? You mean I have to keep quiet?”
“No, that doesn’t matter. Sooner or later, it would come out anyway. I just want you not to interrupt me while I’m talking. Like someone else.”
“…Huh?”
I blinked several times, surprised by the unusual condition. My brother kept rubbing his chin—he must have been talking so much it hurt—and then suddenly shivered as if fed up. Though brief, I felt a pang of sympathy for him.
“…Was it really that bad?”
“Yeah. Very, extremely bad. Every two or three sentences, they’d poke and pry. It was like I couldn’t say anything. Is that person always like that?”
He stressed his point repeatedly.
Then, glancing at me, he cleared his throat a couple of times.
“Ahem. Anyway… if you promise me that one thing, I’ll tell you everything right now. From the very beginning, everything.”
Basically, he wanted me to just listen quietly. But if I had questions, I could ask them afterward.
Thinking that, I promised not to interrupt, and he finally began recounting everything that had happened. I listened carefully.
The story began with a basic explanation of the structure of the Northern Continent.
The Northern Continent is divided into five regions:
Central, East, West, South, and North.
Three years ago—when I had just started my second round—
At that time, the Central Golden Lion Clan was allied with the West and North, while the East and South, who were in conflict with them, had an unspoken truce between themselves… Wait a minute.
“Brother, I already know this…”
“Didn’t you promise?”
…Damn.
Anyway, one day,
A major tectonic shift shook the Northern Continent, where tensions had been simmering—sometimes openly—between the regions.
It was the first Steel Mountain Range campaign.
The Golden Lions, who led the first campaign, formed an expedition mainly with the West and North, their allies. The East and South were deliberately excluded.
But the campaign ended in utter disaster.
Seven out of ten top-tier players participated, and all of them died.
The expedition started with over 5,000 members, but less than 10% survived.
4,700 elite players from the Northern Continent—those in their second to sixth years—were wiped out in a single campaign.
Some clans were completely annihilated.
The losses were so severe that people said, “The Northern Continent has regressed by several years.”
Though some barely survived, they faced a harsh aftermath.
Clans that once dominated their regions collapsed one by one, and the balance of power began to shift. After the Steel Mountain Range campaign, the positions of Central, West, and North versus East and South started to reverse.
But the trials didn’t end there.
Before the wounds could heal, a massive coalition of the Western Continent and bandits invaded the North.
Starting with a surprise attack on the small northern city of Mule, Western cities like Halo, Beth, and Dorothy were all captured. Eventually, even Barbara fell—a humiliating defeat. It was disaster piled on disaster.
Though they managed to repel the invaders, the North paid a heavy, unintended price.
It was obvious that the West and North were in even worse shape. Already staggering, they suffered additional blows that nearly destroyed entire cities.
Compared to the West, which lost all its cities, the North, which lost only one, was somewhat fortunate.
The East also paid a heavy price reclaiming Barbara, but their situation was different. At least their base remained intact.
The South, tasked with reclaiming the nearly deserted Western city, suffered minimal losses.
As each region’s situation unfolded differently, two more years passed.
Since the Central Administrative Organization was established, Lee Hyo-eul focused solely on one thing for nearly two years: healing the accumulated damage in the Northern Continent and restoring its lost strength beyond what it once was.
To cut to the chase, the plan was somewhat successful.
After the war, a baby boom of new users surged, and with the Central Administrative Organization’s support, recovery efforts were vigorous. New strong players began to emerge.
This cycle naturally healed the Northern Continent’s wounds, eventually restoring its strength beyond before.
However,
That was as far as it went.
Looking at the Northern Continent as a whole, the goal was achieved.
But when considering each region separately, problems remained.
The issue was the balance of power among the regions.
Frankly, it was inevitable.
No matter how rationally Lee Hyo-eul managed the Central Administrative Organization, differences were bound to arise because each region started from a different point. While the West and North spent two years rebuilding cities and settling new users, the East and South used their existing strength to their advantage.
So, if given a few more years, could the West and North have regained their former prosperity?
No, they couldn’t.
For a city to develop, it needs resources to build achievements—like stable hunting grounds or relic excavations.
But the Northern Continent’s resources are not infinite. There are clear limits, and once a city’s resources run dry, further development becomes nearly impossible.
(Hearing this made me flinch a little.)
Until not long ago, the Northern Continent was in a very similar state. The number of users kept growing by the minute, but resources were drying up.
Once you reach this kind of saturation point, no matter how much time you invest, the cities just don’t develop.
At best, they stay the same; more often, they just stagnate.
In the end, there was only one path left.
To pioneer a new continent.
That’s why Lee Hyo-eul carefully timed and announced the plan for the second Steel Mountain expedition.
The Steel Mountain expedition—the one users, clans, and the entire Northern Continent had been eagerly awaiting.
But just because everyone was waiting didn’t mean anyone could join.
The central administration set three conditions for participation in the Steel Mountain expedition:
No participation for users in their first or second year.
Selection on a clan basis.
Formation of expedition teams divided by East, West, South, and North regions.
The first two conditions had already been applied during the first expedition, and the third was a new addition, designed to address the failures of the previous attempt.
In truth, aside from a handful of large clans whose selection was almost guaranteed, many smaller and mid-sized clans were already moving quickly. The plan to conquer Steel Mountain had been an open secret for months, and clans eager to participate were already throwing their doors wide open, recruiting users early on.
Because although selection was on a clan basis, that didn’t mean every clan would be chosen.
And this is where the relationship between clans and users started to get complicated.
There were plenty of users who wanted to join the Steel Mountain expedition, but to participate, they had to belong to a clan.
Naturally, countless clans sprang up, desperate to gather users, so from a user’s perspective, it was just a matter of applying to the clan that seemed most promising.
But users weren’t fools.
They wanted to join the expedition, yes, but their top priority was their own safety—their lives. The rosy future promised upon success was a privilege only for those who survived.
It wasn’t a decision to take lightly.
The Steel Mountain’s fearsome reputation was such that even the mountain range where the dreaded dragon slept was considered less dangerous. Remember the first expedition led by the Golden Lion, composed of elite forces? What was their fate?
“I want to join the Steel Mountain expedition.”
“But my life is precious.”
Faced with these two conflicting thoughts, what choice did the users make?
It was simple.
Once they decided to participate rather than give up, they first sought out the clan that could best protect their safety. And those clans were mostly concentrated in the East and South, not the West or North.
From that moment on—when the third condition was announced—the situation in the North became quite ambiguous.
“When users evaluate clans, they consider many factors,” my older brother said.
Maybe because we’d been talking for a while, he paused to finish his drink, then continued.
“Whether there’s a famous user, financial resources and support, achievements, clan rank, and so on…”
If you bundle all those criteria under the term ‘reputation,’ the North simply lacked any clans with enough prestige to attract users.
He was right.
The East was dotted with traditional clans like the Goryeo Clan. They leveraged their war-earned fame and symbolism to steadily recruit users, and eventually, the Goryeo Clan became the undisputed ruler of the East.
The South was no less formidable. Through various trials, it preserved its strength better than any other region.
It steadily expanded its influence, growing powerful like the East. In the process, the Istanbul Row clan (which I helped a bit) began to build a strong reputation.
Not only that, but our mercenary clan swept up relics and, for the first time in our history, achieved an S-rank. We even boldly conquered the supposedly impregnable mountain range where the dragon slept.
“But the North?”
His sudden question left me silent, because I couldn’t think of anything noteworthy to say about the North.
As if expecting this, he went on.
The North was in a pretty ambiguous position. It might have been easier if it were like the West, which was outright declared powerless from the start. But the North wasn’t completely ruined like the West, so it could recover relatively quickly.
Still, that was only ‘relative.’
It didn’t have the long-standing traditions or deep user base of the East.
Nor did it have the impressive achievements or the glamorous clans boasting half of the top ten users like the South.
The newly appointed representative clans after the war had neither achievements nor reputation. They were just struggling to maintain the status quo.
There was a time when the North had many prestigious clans—Bukneok, Stella, Myeolhwaryang—but those were just memories of past glory, now faded remnants.
Even if they somehow managed to form a Northern expedition team, there was no guarantee it would be any better than the first expedition three years ago.
Sure, they might have tried to raise their level by recruiting external users, but considering these were the leftovers filtered out by the East and South, a significant improvement was unlikely.
In short, the North was better than the West but lagged behind the East and South—just barely meeting the cutoff to form an expedition team.
But they couldn’t just opt out. Setting aside feelings of regret, the North had no valid reason like the West to abstain.
Moreover, if they backed down now, it was obvious the North would be on the path to ruin. Users wouldn’t stay in a region with no future.
So the North found itself trapped in a huge dilemma.
Unless they had secured a representative clan by force, the users managing the North surely understood this predicament clearly.
Anyway, even if it was a reluctant choice, participation was essential if they didn’t want to self-destruct.
So they decided to join—but inevitably, this caused problems with the position of overall commander.
According to what my brother heard from Gong Chan-ho, the North had fierce debates over who would take the commander’s seat.
Not about who wanted it, but who didn’t.
Usually, the representative clan of the main city takes the role, but it’s not a strict rule.
Look at the South expedition. The Blue Wolf clan, representing Khan, voluntarily took the rear guard and didn’t hand over authority to Istanbul Row.
But there was a big difference between the South and the North: their current situations were worlds apart.
Han So-young was a well-known and respected user with a solid reputation. Even if Blue Wolf stepped down, Istanbul Row was a worthy successor.
But the North didn’t have anyone of Han So-young’s caliber (and I had to wince here, because normally, the Beechwood clan—of which you were a part—would have been a major influence in the North by now).
No one wanted the job because the commander’s role carried enormous responsibility.
Sure, if the expedition succeeded, the commander would reap the sweetest rewards, but failure meant facing equally severe consequences.
And this was how Gong Chan-ho ended up as commander.
Strictly speaking, Gong Chan-ho had some reputation, but not enough to be commander.
But when the representative clans all said, “I don’t want to be commander,” and others echoed, “Me neither,” there was no choice. After everyone ahead declined, the offer eventually landed with Gong Chan-ho, who was lower on the priority list.
Honestly, I don’t know what he was thinking when he accepted the commander position so readily.
But to be frank, the current ‘Commander’ Gong Chan-ho was little more than a figurehead or a sacrificial pawn.
Just as the commander was barely settled, a new variable emerged.
The plan for the Fire Realm expedition, proposed by user Joo-ho, was announced.
The Fire Realm expedition plan was the best possible variable to save the struggling Northern expedition team. The reason was simple: at least the area where the Fire Realm expedition would take place was relatively safe to pass through. For the Northern expedition, whose level lagged behind, it was like a lifeline.
However…
The East’s reaction after the announcement quickly dashed the North’s hopes. Jo Seong-ho, citing the East expedition as the primary force, snatched the first chance to enter the area.
From the North’s perspective, it was infuriating.
The difference in strength between the East and North expeditions was obvious to everyone. Of course, there was no rule that the North had to go first, but out of courtesy, they wanted to be the first to enter.
Yet the East, despite its overwhelming power, acted selfishly.
If the East had simply excluded the Fire Realm expedition area and advanced further, the North might have understood. At least then, it would have felt like both sides were giving their best equally.
But the East didn’t do that. From the start, they calculated the distance and stopped their advance after exactly seven days’ worth of travel—ten days in total—reporting the expedition complete without suffering any damage or ambush.
The North couldn’t complain, since they planned to do the same, but that only made it more frustrating.
Honestly, I don’t think much of the East either, but imagine how the North must feel.
“……”
Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind—what if Han So-young had anticipated this whole situation all along?
Objectively speaking, the actual distance our Southern Expedition covered was about the same as the Eastern Expedition’s, but it took us four extra days.
Later, I heard that when Han So-young reported the completion of the operation, she included quite detailed materials—collections of the corpses we’d gathered, analyses of the monsters’ traits, and even footage of the battles fought inside the pits.
At the time, I just thought she was being thorough and diligent, but now, hearing all this, I wonder if she was trying to avoid misunderstandings between the groups.
“Anyway, in that situation… the West and the North had aligned interests. That’s how the Northwest Alliance was born.”
My brother’s voice was a little hoarse, as if tired from explaining.
The Northwest Alliance.
Only now did its meaning start to hit me differently.
Aligned interests.
He was right.
Choosing to side with the West was the best move the North could make once the decision to push forward with the operation was set.
The Hamill Clan, known for their overwhelming strength, and above all, having my brother—someone who could truly fulfill the role of commander—must have felt like a blessing to the North. So they made an attractive offer: if the West helped with their campaign, they’d share the privileges that would come afterward.
The West felt the same way.
After all, the campaign through the Steel Mountains had been going well so far. And the West, who hadn’t been officially included in the operation and had only been watching quietly, probably felt a bit left out.
Since they were already assigned a support role, there was no problem with the pretense.
But rather than just waiting for scraps to fall their way, they wanted to eat the cake itself—even if it was only half of it. And when the North said they’d keep Gong Chan-ho as the overall commander but hand over full command authority, my brother had no reason left to refuse.
“Phew. Well, that pretty much covers it…”
I watched as my brother flopped dramatically onto the bed, looking utterly exhausted, and I quietly drifted into thought.
I understood the meaning of the Northwest Alliance now, and I saw why it made sense. It was just a tangled web of complex interests, nothing too difficult to grasp.
“Feeling any less curious now?”
…And above all, I suddenly felt sorry for him.
A long time ago.
“Su-hyun, are you really not thinking about coming to the West?”
He’d once half-jokingly asked me to join the West.
Back then, I’d just brushed it off, thinking he only wanted to keep me safe by putting me in a more secure expedition.
But that wasn’t it.
He, too, as a user, wanted to take part in the Steel Mountains campaign himself—and that’s why he needed the help of the Mercenary Clan.
---------------------------= Author’s Note =---------------------------
This chapter serves as the answer to the questions from the previous one.
I tried to include detailed explanations to help readers understand, but I worry I might have overdone it. Still, I did my best, so please don’t find it too frustrating and be kind to it.
If you have any questions or doubts after reading, and you really want answers, please send me a message. I plan to spend the weekend replying to all the messages I’ve received, and I’ll respond sincerely.
I was determined to post this by midnight today, but I accidentally nodded off during the final edits. I’ll check comments tomorrow morning. Wishing all my readers a peaceful night.