Hyunwoo sat down in his chair, scratching his messy, sleep-tousled hair.
The familiar hum of his computer's cooling fan filled the room, accompanied by the faint smell of dust.
Out of habit, Hyunwoo moved his mouse and clicked a faded icon.
[Ardel Chronicle]
The game was released more than ten years ago.
This classic RPG had received its last update five years earlier, and its concurrent player count had already dwindled to single digits. The rest of the world had long since forgotten about it.
But Hyunwoo logged in every single day. For him, playing the game had become as natural as eating and sleeping, a routine he had maintained for ten years.
Naturally, his achievement completion rate was 100%. He had discovered every hidden Easter egg.
He had collected every skill and item in the game. There was nothing left for him to obtain.
He had squeezed every last drop of enjoyment out of it, yet today, as always, Hyunwoo opened the character creation screen.
"What should I play this time……?"
An array of distinctive classes appeared on the screen.
Barbarians who gleefully smashed their enemies' skulls. Mages who swept across battlefields with dazzling elemental magic. Elven Archers accompanied by spirits, Druids who borrowed the power of nature, and Necromancers who raised the dead……
He had already raised characters from every one of these classes to the maximum level dozens of times. Their skill trees and optimal progression routes were etched into his mind like a map.
Hyunwoo's finger hovered indecisively for a moment before stopping over one option.
"Maybe I'll play a Mage again. It's been a while."
Mages in this game possessed absurd potential in the late stages, but the early game was absolute hell.
They were fragile, constantly short on mana, burdened with atrocious cooldowns, and even susceptible to disease. They practically had to live on medicinal herbs.
However, once properly developed, they became beings capable of dominating entire battlefields.
That was what it meant to be a Mage.
"Naturally, I'll set the difficulty to the highest……."
Hyunwoo began adjusting the settings without hesitation.
For a seasoned veteran, pride began with pushing the difficulty slider all the way to the right.
[Difficulty: Hell]
[Starting Region: Frozen Exile – Gale Mountains]
[Additional Restrictions: No starting equipment, 0 Gold, and unable to equip any items except the Bound Spellbook.]
[Additional Perk: The Bound Spellbook evolves as the player grows. However, in the beginning, it is nothing more than an old book.]
"The best part of playing a Mage is struggling through the beginning with nothing."
The worst possible environment, where nothing was provided.
His only companion would be an old spellbook engraved upon his soul from birth.
To anyone else, this would have seemed like a start that promised nothing but suffering. But Hyunwoo could no longer find a game interesting without challenges of this magnitude.
A message appeared announcing that character creation was complete, and the Start button began flashing.
[Are you certain you wish to begin? Once your fate has been determined, it cannot be reversed.]
"What? Was there always a warning like this?"
Hyunwoo felt a momentary sense of unease, but he dismissed it and clicked Confirm.
BZZZT! CRACKLE!
The monitor flickered, spewing strange visual distortions. The familiar hum of the computer's fan transformed into a deafening roar.
"W-Wait! What's happening?"
Just as the startled Hyunwoo reached toward his computer, a pitch-black abyss erupted from the center of the monitor.
Like a ravenous beast, it swallowed his entire field of vision in an instant.
—Year 1.
I searched for the 'Hidden Chest in the Slum Back Alley,' one of the early-game routes for acquiring money.
Starting funds were essential, especially in a harsh territory beneath the snowy mountains.
But the chest that should have contained the money was nowhere to be found.
Instead, I received a vicious beating from the beggars for trespassing on their territory.
After considerable effort, I managed to discover that I had arrived long before the game's starting point.
By the time I figured that out, my entire body was covered in bruises, and my right arm was bent at an unnatural angle.
Without money to visit a temple or purchase potions, my wounds became horribly infected.
In the end, thanks to the kindness of a passing mercenary, I had no choice but to have my right arm amputated.
—Year 2.
I came to a devastating realization.
This world was different from the game I knew.
More precisely, the timeline was different.
There was a gap of at least thirty years…… perhaps even longer.
In that instant, much of my knowledge became useless.
Even more despairing was the fact that a group of northern slave traders had captured me, a one-armed beggar.
They sent me to the mines, where I was forced to extract ore every single day.
Although I had only one arm, my daily quota was the same as everyone else's.
Ore that could be mined with a single click in the game.
Ore that became so worthless later on that I could not even be bothered to pick it up, leaving it scattered across the ground.
Yet those worthless chunks of rock were slowly killing me in reality.
The merciless beatings knocked out all my teeth, and one of my eyes went blind from exposure to mineral dust.
……I clutched the 'Book' and screamed at it to turn me into a Mage immediately, but there was no response.
—Year 6.
I miraculously escaped the mines, only to discover that the world outside was even crueler.
An epidemic had begun spreading throughout the Empire.
By the time the game took place, the disease had already been eradicated, and its cure was widely available.
Remembering that knowledge, I shouted that the disease was Black Spot Disease and that I knew the formula for the herbal remedy.
I even demonstrated the treatment and successfully cured someone.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the cold stone floor of a torture chamber.
A greedy merchant had hired mercenaries to abduct me.
He stole my herbal formula and became fabulously wealthy.
Through his 'mercy,' I was allowed to keep my life and received two gold coins as compensation.
By then, the epidemic had already been cured everywhere, and my knowledge was worthless once again.
—Year 21.
I survived by working as a porter and servant for an insignificant mercenary company.
Once, I had dreamed of becoming a Mage.
Now, all I could do was despair at my miserable reality.
The Book still refused to respond.
Of course it did.
To make it grow, I needed to kill Mages and absorb their Mana Cores.
How could a one-armed wretch like me possibly kill those mighty Mages?
—Year 40.
At long last, the world had reached a point close to the beginning of the game.
No, perhaps it was still a little early.
It did not matter. There could not be more than a few years' difference now.
I could finally start moving.
The time had come to make full use of my knowledge and become a renowned hero.
I would start again.
Just like loading a saved game, I would begin everything anew.
This time, I would become a Mage.
I would become a Great Mage who commanded the world, enjoy all the wealth and glory this other world had to offer, and return to Korea.
To secure the perfect start, I decided to return to the starting point.
The snowy mountains.
That merciless land of raging blizzards.
The route to becoming the ultimate Mage, which I had spent decades planning, lay there.
Just wait.
Once I climb those snowy mountains, a new legend will be written into the history of this world.
This will be the first step in the journey of I, Lee Hyunwoo, toward becoming a great and mighty Mage.
Yes, I am…….
"I am…… a Mage who will become the god of this world!"
"Yes, yes. It's time for your medicine, Hyunwoo."
The Barbarian Vermoor answered calmly as a shrill cry rang out from the bed.
His enormous body, larger than most wild beasts, was covered in scars and hard, bulging muscles.
His rough hands were thick with calluses, and white vapor escaped his nostrils whenever he exhaled.
His gaze was indifferent, and his expression rarely changed.
He was a man like a boulder standing firm in a blizzard.
A typical northern Barbarian.
He placed the bitter medicinal herbs he had gathered from the mountains into a stone mortar and crushed them thoroughly. Then he carefully transferred the mixture into a bowl.
Beside the bowl of medicine lay a small piece of biscuit.
It was sprinkled with sugar.
Sugar was expensive.
He had been forced to trade an entire wild boar just to obtain a tiny bottle no bigger than his finger.
It was an exceedingly precious commodity, but there was nothing he could do about it.
After all, it was this mad old man's favorite treat.
A man lay on the bed.
His hair was completely white, his beard was unkempt, and deep wrinkles lined his face.
Anyone would have taken him for a man well past sixty, yet he insisted that he was only twenty-eight.
Or had he said that he had returned to being twenty-eight?
The man spouted so much nonsense that Vermoor had no idea how old he really was.
"Vermoor…… Vermoor……."
"I'm here. Do you need something?"
"Heh, hehehe—To think the first person I'd encounter would be this Barbarian Boss. How fortunate. He doesn't seem strong enough to be called a Boss yet. But considering his growth potential, it won't take long…… He's just a simple Barbarian, so manipulating him should be easy. Become a companion in my quest for supremacy. Hehehe……."
"Here we go again. Just finish your biscuit."
Hyunwoo grimaced at the bitter medicine, but the moment Vermoor placed the sugar-coated biscuit in his mouth, he quickly settled down.
Vermoor snorted and went back outside to chop firewood.
A cabin in the snowy mountains.
A life spent caring for a sick, deranged old man.
It was troublesome, but it was not boring.
On the rare occasions when Hyunwoo regained his senses, he displayed an astonishing breadth of knowledge.
Vermoor had scoffed when the man called himself a Mage despite being unable to cast a single spell.
However, the sheer amount of knowledge he possessed was enough to make Vermoor believe that he might truly be a Sage or a Mage.
One day, Hyunwoo even taught Vermoor letters he had never seen before.
"These letters are remarkably easy to learn. Even a Barbarian like me can read them in no time."
"Ah, so you don't know. This writing system is called Hangul."
Hyunwoo snorted and began enthusiastically explaining its origins, even though nobody had asked.
"These letters were created by King Sejong the Great, who took pity on his people because they could not read or write—"
"He created an easy writing system for the common people? What a noble king."
Hyunwoo looked as proud as though he had accomplished the feat himself and devoted himself enthusiastically to teaching Vermoor.
Late at night, Hyunwoo would sit by the head of his bed and write endlessly.
Whenever Vermoor approached for a closer look, he would find Hyunwoo with an old book spread open, inscribing letters onto its pages.
There was no ink, yet black letters appeared on the paper as though by magic.
'Is he really a Mage?'
When Vermoor leaned forward curiously, Hyunwoo jumped in alarm and clutched the book to his chest.
"Don't look! Don't you dare look!"
"I-I didn't see anything. I was only curious about what you were doing."
Vermoor remembered something the village chief from the settlement below had told him.
—Never forcibly take away something a madman is obsessed with.
He shrugged and quietly withdrew.
Then he sat beside the fire and inspected his hunting traps and spearheads. He tightened the leather straps and sharpened his axe.
The wind battered the cabin walls.
Outside, the icy gales continued to rage, but inside, the warmth of the fire kept the cabin comfortable.
And so, the strange coexistence between a mad Mage who dreamed of conquering the world and the Barbarian who cared for him continued for several years.
Hyunwoo was ill.
He had already been sick when Vermoor first met him.
Whether it was an endemic disease of the region or the very air of this world rejecting his existence, Vermoor could not tell.
As a Barbarian, Vermoor had never suffered from an illness in his entire life.
He had always believed that wounds simply needed stitching and broken bones needed setting.
But Hyunwoo's illness was different.
One day, Hyunwoo collapsed with an extremely high fever.
His unfocused eyes wandered aimlessly.
His breathing was ragged, and his forehead burned like a furnace.
Barely conscious and unaware of what was happening to his own body, he began to mutter.
"I want kimchi stew…… Mom…… I want the kimchi stew my mom used to make……."
"Kimchi stew?"
Vermoor paused.
It was a term Hyunwoo had mentioned before during one of his nonsensical ramblings.
As far as Vermoor could remember, it was a soup made by boiling spicy pickled vegetables in water.
He put on his fur clothing and plunged into the blizzard.
The snowy mountains were a land of death at midnight, but the Barbarian's powerful legs carried him forward without hesitation.
He dug through the snow for edible winter vegetables and remembered a certain red flower that produced a spicy sensation.
He had once chewed its petals until his tongue went numb.
That must have been what Hyunwoo meant by spicy.
He placed the petals into a stone mortar and crushed them with all his strength.
Red juice seeped out, and he mixed it with finely chopped vegetables.
Then he poured in water, set a pot over the fire, and let everything simmer.
The smell of the boiling mixture was…… not bad.
A sharp, tingling aroma filled his nostrils.
"Kimchi stew…… is best with tuna…… Pork comes second……."
Vermoor blinked.
Was tuna some kind of fish?
There was no way to obtain fish this high in the snowy mountains.
Instead, Vermoor tore generous portions of his carefully preserved dried bear meat into the pot.
The red broth bubbled merrily.
When he tasted it, the soup was pleasantly hot and spicy.
Not bad at all.
The following morning, Hyunwoo opened his eyes after his fever had subsided slightly.
As though he had been waiting for that very moment, Vermoor presented him with a steaming bowl.
"What's this?"
"Kimchi stew. You kept saying you wanted some in your sleep yesterday."
"I did? Wait, did you say kimchi stew?"
Hyunwoo stared at the bowl in astonishment.
Unfamiliar green vegetables floated in the broth alongside pieces of meat that had softened from boiling.
The soup was red, but it was a different shade from the one he remembered.
It was brighter, almost like red paint.
Hyunwoo suspiciously took a spoonful.
Naturally, it tasted nothing like kimchi stew.
"THIS! IS! NOT! IT!!"
"But it's similar, isn't it?"
"Not even close! It doesn't taste anything like it! This is just some random spicy stew!"
"Hmm. My apologies. There is only so much I can find in these snowy mountains."
"……."
Hyunwoo fell silent.
After a moment, he quietly finished the entire bowl.
Then he asked for another serving.
At some point, Hyunwoo's mad ramblings began to diminish.
He no longer proclaimed himself a god or boasted about conquering the world.
Instead, he increasingly spent his days staring blankly at the endless expanse of snow beyond the window.
He no longer caused Vermoor much trouble, but life had become less entertaining as a result.
The days passed in monotonous repetition.
As Hyunwoo sat with his back straight, gazing out the window, his silhouette no longer resembled that of an old man.
He almost looked like a young man gradually regaining his youth.
Yet the flame of his life was growing weaker.
The time had come.
Neither man needed to say it aloud.
They both understood.
This quiet silence was the calm before the storm, and Hyunwoo's long journey was finally approaching its end.
Vermoor silently sharpened his axe, while Hyunwoo treasured the old book he kept close to his chest.
The end of Hell difficulty was slowly approaching.
When Hyunwoo collapsed, neither of them was surprised.
They had both known this day would come.
Hyunwoo stared at the ceiling, struggling to focus his eyes.
It was no use.
No matter how hard he tried, his vision continued to blur.
Beside him, Vermoor quietly sharpened a dagger.
It was a versatile weapon, equally useful for hunting and combat.
"Vermoor. Say something."
"Like what?"
"Anything…… Just make conversation. Ah, yes. Have you ever thought about conquering the world?"
"Not interested."
The scraping of steel against a whetstone filled the cabin.
"What grudge do you bear against the world that makes you so determined to torment it?"
"Well, because everyone knows you have to see the ending before you can go back."
"The ending? Everyone knows?"
The man was still talking nonsense.
Seeing Vermoor tilt his head in confusion, Hyunwoo chuckled.
"Shall I explain it simply? I wanted to become the strongest Mage and leave this world. Beyond this world, to the homeland where I once lived."
"Beyond this world, you say……."
Vermoor shrugged at the unnecessarily grandiose declaration.
He finished sharpening the dagger.
After rinsing it with water, he carefully wiped it down with clean oil.
Then he placed the freshly maintained dagger into Hyunwoo's hand as he lay on the bed.
"What's this?"
"When warriors die, they travel to the Heavenly Palace of Baldrus, the Warrior God. You are not a warrior, but I have prayed that he make an exception for you. I doubt Baldrus will be so heartless as to turn you away. That blade should prove useful to you there."
"Hehehe. What other world is that supposed to be? I've had enough…… of other worlds……."
Hyunwoo's eyes closed.
The strength drained from his body, and his frame seemed to shrink slightly.
It looked as though his soul had slipped away.
"Farewell, my friend."
He was gone.
According to Barbarian funeral customs, the bodies of the dead were placed on high mountains where the wind blew freely.
The flesh they had spent their lives strengthening was offered back to the birds, the wind, and the earth in gratitude.
But Hyunwoo had once said that burial was customary in his homeland.
After some consideration, Vermoor decided to honor his friend's traditions and bury him instead.
He waited for a day of clear weather, then carried Hyunwoo on his back up the mountain.
To the summit of the snowy peak.
The highest point, a place from which one could look down upon the world.
"From up here, I suppose you could claim to have conquered the world."
Vermoor gave a faint chuckle.
He buried Hyunwoo at the summit and descended the mountain.
He gathered the belongings his friend had left behind in the cabin and burned them.
However, one object refused to burn.
It was the old leather-bound book Hyunwoo had treasured like his most precious possession.
"Hmm."
Vermoor tried to open it, only to be taken aback.
The book would not open.
[Curse of Binding: Only the rightful owner may open this book.]
A fairy-like voice suddenly rang out inside his head.
Vermoor did not so much as blink.
He flexed his thick forearms and gripped both sides of the book.
"Hmph."
CRRRACK!
His muscles swelled as he exerted an abnormal amount of strength upon the book.
With a sharp crackling sound, the strange energy surrounding it shattered as though screaming in agony.
At last, the tightly sealed pages were forcibly pried apart.
The book was filled with unfamiliar writing.
Yet it was not entirely unfamiliar.
Had Hyunwoo called it Hangul?
Drawing upon what his friend had taught him, Vermoor slowly began sounding out the letters.
[#Goblin: A green-skinned dwarf-like creature. Goblins travel in groups and favor cowardly tactics. Notable named individuals include—]
Vermoor's eyes widened.
Unlike the nonsense Hyunwoo usually spouted, the contents of the book were different.
It contained knowledge about this world.
There were occasional words he did not understand, but the information itself was unmistakable.
Was this what Hyunwoo had been writing every night?
[The Goblin God 'Ganak' is the embodiment of greed and foolishness—]
"So even Goblins have a god. Well, I suppose there is no creature without one."
Vermoor continued turning the pages until he stopped at a particular entry.
His own name was written there.
[#Vermoor, the Barbarian of the Frozen Wastes: One of the most difficult Bosses. In terms of sheer physical strength, he surpasses even the Final Boss. Although he is an optional Boss with no connection to the main story, many players make defeating him their personal goal because of his overwhelming power.]
"I don't quite understand, but apparently I inspire others to challenge themselves? That sounds good."
A faint smile appeared on Vermoor's lips.
The entry continued.
[His aptitude for magic is not merely nonexistent; it practically falls into negative values. A rugged warrior who fights solely with his physical abilities. One community user once left the comment, 'Muscles trained to the extreme surpass magic,' which received an impressive 300 upvotes.]
The entry went on at length, discussing various aspects of his character.
Then Vermoor's finger stopped at the final line.
[May the blessing of the gods be with him.]
There was something different about that sentence.
Unlike the other hastily scribbled entries, these words were clear and deliberate, as though each letter had been carefully pressed into the page.
They were not merely another piece of dry information.
They were Hyunwoo's final words.
Suddenly, a gentle light emerged from the book and seeped into Vermoor's chest.
[Ownership of the item 'Hyunwoo's Records' has been transferred.]
Vermoor was now alone in the cabin.
There was no longer any reason for him to remain there.
—I wanted to become the strongest Mage and leave this world.
"Beyond this world, huh?"
Hyunwoo's words returned to his mind.
Hyunwoo had been referring to the world where he had once lived.
But Vermoor, who knew nothing of that, understood his words in an entirely different way.
According to the legends passed down across the continent, a realm inhabited by the gods existed beyond the world.
The Heavenly Palace of Baldrus, the Warrior God revered by the Barbarians, was said to be there as well.
Normally, only warriors who died honorably on the battlefield were invited into Baldrus's palace……
"If becoming the strongest Mage allows someone to travel beyond this world, does that mean it is possible to reach that place while still alive?"
Having made his decision, Vermoor gathered his weapons, ropes, and provisions.
He placed Hyunwoo's spellbook into his bag and closed the cabin door behind him.
The freezing gales battered his body, but his heart beat with excitement.
His destination was a place that existed only in legends.
Beyond the world itself.
The Heavenly Palace of Baldrus, the Warrior God.
And to reach that place, he would become the strongest Mage.
"A Mage, huh? I wonder if even a Barbarian like me can become one."
He muttered to himself as he made his way down the mountain range.
With a new dream in his heart, he left the place of exile and ventured beyond the snowy mountains.
He had already forgotten the words he had read in the book just moments earlier.
[#Vermoor: His aptitude for magic is not merely nonexistent; it practically falls into negative values.]