Both Gara and Leif stood frozen in place, still too stunned to speak. Silence hung between them, thick and heavy.
The red-haired young man slowly glanced around—the rocky hill beneath their feet, the boulder they had used just moments ago to hide from the monstrous, girl-infused creature. Then his gaze shifted into the distance, locking onto the Mountain of Lightning.
A towering, jagged colossus of stone stood proudly beneath the stormy skies, bolts of lightning striking its peak every few seconds in a rhythmic, deafening crash.
Gara exhaled a long, steady breath. This was no ordinary place—he was inside an SS Ranked Fragment. And just now, he had come face to face with one similar in rank, the SS Ranker known as [White Space].
"…The old man," Gara finally muttered, breaking the silence. "He said he's here to help us. That someone told him to…"
He trailed off, eyes narrowing slightly as the question formed in his mind and slipped out of his mouth.
"Why would we need help? And who asked him to?"
He was just an F Ranker—not even at the peak of his rank. Sure, he had an Original Story, and his goal was to unlock it without Restrictions, but so what? In the grand scale of the Story World, an F Ranker was still an F Ranker—the very bottom of the ladder.
Recognition? That was reserved for the sons and daughters of top High Rankers. And not even for their own merit, but for the weight of their parents' names and the connections they inherited.
Gara? His only connection was Dante—an A Ranker, well-known and respected, with ties to some of the higher-ups in the Grey Rose Organization. But even that wasn't enough to draw the attention of an SS Ranker like [White Space].
Gara sighed. He knew deep down that none of those thoughts explained why the old man had helped them.
No... the real reason had to be something bigger. Something far beyond him. It most likely had to do with the Champion Game—the silent war between the true giants of the Story World. Between the enigmatic [First One Out]… and whoever was standing behind Leif.
The blonde-haired young man finally spoke. "No one should care about F Rankers like us... The only one I can think of is the person who told me to come here."
He looked up at Gara, confusion clear in his eyes. "And once again, he's trying to help you too... I don't get it. If we're supposed to be competing—if we represent different people—why would the one behind me be helping you? It's... weird."
Gara nodded slowly. "Yeah, it is. But maybe the [First One Out] and whoever's backing you made a temporary alliance? Like... they plan to take out all the other Champions first, then fight each other at the end?"
Leif shrugged. "That could be it."
He let out a long breath, his eyes drifting toward the distant mountain. "Still... to have an SS Ranker helping us? That says something." He paused, hesitant to voice the thought forming in his mind.
But Gara already knew. He finished it for him.
"[Blue Waves] is after us."
Leif nodded grimly.
[Blue Waves]—the second SS Ranker in the [Rashanz] Fragment. If [White Space] was here to help them survive, then maybe it was because someone just as powerful had been sent to make sure they didn't.
It was too much to process. The idea of an SS Ranker coming after you wasn't just terrifying—it was nearly unthinkable.
But it didn't stop there.
Both Leif and Gara found themselves remembering the two members of the Cover Club also present inside the [Rashanz] Fragment.
"...It can't be. Right?" Gara asked, though deep down, he already knew the answer.
Leif's expression turned grim. "It probably means the Cover Club is here for me... or, if we go by the old man's words—both of us."
Gara let out a dry chuckle. Not because it was funny, but because it was easier to laugh than admit just how messed up everything had become. He'd had a bad feeling about this mission from the start. He'd come anyway, because it sounded crazy—and maybe a little exciting.
But now?
Now it was clear it wasn't just insane.
It was deadly.
They had two choices—finish the mission or leave immediately. But even leaving wasn't exactly safe.
Sure, the Golden Space was off-limits for combat. That much was certain. There was an unbreakable rule agreed upon by all Players: no fighting in the Golden Space. If anyone broke that rule—regardless of the reason—every nearby Player would turn against them, no questions asked. The punishment was swift and brutal: a permanent ban from entering the Golden Space ever again.
And if someone tried to return?
They'd be killed. Not by guards or officials—but by the Players themselves.
That rule existed for a reason: to keep the Golden Space neutral and safe. No matter how chaotic things got in a Fragment or across the Story World, the peace of the Golden Space was never to be disturbed.
But once Gara and Leif left that protected zone—whether to return to the White Clouds or anywhere else in the Story World—they would almost certainly be hunted.
By [Blue Waves], an SS Ranker.
The weight of that reality sank in. Both of them fell silent, letting the tension stretch as they quietly considered their next move.
"I think it's best if we stay and finish the mission," Leif finally said, breaking the long silence. "At least we've got [White Space] backing us up. An SS Ranker on our side... That's something."
Gara nodded in agreement. "Yeah… And then there's the Cover Club to worry about. We know of two members in this Fragment: [Black Cover], a D Ranker, and [Blue Cover], an E Ranker. The E Ranker we might be able to handle, even if it's gonna be tough... But [Black Cover]? We don't stand a chance unless you reach E Rank first. Escaping would be hard enough—fighting back would be suicide."
Leif exhaled heavily. "True. But we don't have many options."
He looked into the distance, toward the towering Mountain of Lightning, and continued, "Still, there's more than one D Ranker inside this Fragment, right? So maybe—just maybe—one of them is on our side. Same goes for the C, B, A, and even S Rankers. Not all of them can be enemies. Some of them have to be players in this game too... right?"
Gara rubbed his chin in thought. "It's possible… but I doubt it. Unless this competition is meant to be completely brutal and out in the open—but that doesn't line up. Everything we've seen so far points to it being handled in secret. Controlled. And besides, there's no way the Reciter would just sit back and let chaos unfold inside her own Fragment."
Leif nodded. "Yeah, that's a good point. Even if she's just a Replica, she's not the type to stay quiet if things get out of hand. So realistically... we'll probably only have to deal with [Blue Cover], maybe [Black Cover] at most."
Gara let out a long sigh and stepped forward. He couldn't just stand still anymore. His eyes locked onto the mountain in the distance—massive, jagged, and crackling with bolts of lightning. It was only five to ten minutes away now. So close. They were nearly at their goal, yet everything had shifted at the final stretch.
He hadn't expected SS Rankers to be involved. When they first entered the Fragment, he'd considered the possibility that the Cover Club might show up—especially given what happened to one of their own at Leif's brother's hands. But even then, their top threat was [Black Cover], a D Ranker. Not someone at the level of an SS Ranker.
"Welp," Gara muttered with another sigh. "Not like we can do anything to change what's already happened. All we can do is keep our heads down, watch our backs, and push forward to the Mountain of Lightning."
The blonde-haired young man didn't want to nod—but he had to. As much as it stung his pride, he knew Gara was right. They were far too weak to do anything about the current situation. It was frustrating to admit, but in the end, [Blue Waves] and [White Space] were the true players in this game of survival.
Still, Leif wasn't one to sit idle. He opened his sleek black Story System interface, fingers moving quickly as he accessed the Blue Trade Records. Within seconds, he purchased information files on both SS Rankers. A moment later, he shared the data with Gara.
The red-haired young man could only chuckle under his breath. Typical Leif. He was so rich that buying high-level intelligence on two SS Rankers was something he could do without blinking. Meanwhile, Gara would have to grind for days just to afford basic info on even one of them.
The two read through the reports on the SS Rankers in silence. After a few minutes passed, Gara was the first to speak. "[White Space] is probably the better fighter between the two. That might explain why [Blue Waves] hasn't made a move yet."
Leif nodded in agreement. "Yeah… Even though [Blue Waves] has more firepower and destructive capability, one-on-one fights—especially ones where they want to avoid drawing too much attention—favor someone like [White Space]. He's more precise, more controlled."
That information helped calm the two F Rankers, if only slightly. The tension didn't vanish—SS Rankers were still involved—but knowing the one supposedly on their side had a better chance of winning was some comfort.
Afterward, they shifted to a different screen on their Story System interfaces and browsed the list of other Players currently inside the [Rashanz] Fragment. But nothing stood out. No familiar aliases, no obvious connections. They couldn't tell who, if anyone, was involved in the competition… and worse, if they were, whose side they were on.
With that completed, Gara and Leif decided not to stay here any longer, they turned their backs to this small space and continued toward the Mountain of Lightning.
...
"He's made his first move, it seems... Tsk. Of all people, why did they have to send [White Space]?" The man's voice was low and irritated, tinged with restrained frustration. "This is getting annoying."
He looked middle-aged, his frame broad and powerful beneath a flowing blue kimono patterned with white wave motifs. His short, sleek blue hair matched his sharp blue eyes, and a thick beard framed his square jaw.
From atop a nearby mountain, he watched Leif and Gara from afar—coldly, patiently.
Standing beside him was a younger figure, draped head to toe in blue. His entire body was hidden beneath his layered assassin-like robes, scarf wound tightly around his lower face. Only his crimson eyes, glowing faintly from beneath the hood, marked him as human.
This was the lone E Ranker currently inside the [Rashanz] Fragment—a member of the Cover Club and wielder of the Original Story [Blue Cover].
"Master, what should we do?" [Blue Cover] asked, his voice low but tense. His crimson eyes narrowed as he watched Gara and Leif in the distance. He ached to strike—especially at Leif.
"Nothing just yet. We'll observe and keep our distance," [Blue Waves] replied, his tone cold, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "Dealing with [White Space] head-on isn't wise. His abilities are too unpredictable."
His arms remained folded behind his back as he looked toward the Mountain of Lightning.
"When those two reach the summit, that's when you'll move. I'll handle [White Space]."
Though [Blue Waves] might be stronger than [White Space] outside the [Rashanz] Fragment, the same couldn't be said here. Inside this Fragment, the advantage tilted toward [White Space]—and [Blue Waves] knew it.
He could unleash his full power, of course. But that would draw attention he wasn't prepared to deal with—eyes far more dangerous than even his own.
The upper echelons of the Rashanz Empire included multiple SS Rankers, two SSS Rankers, and their emperor, an actual X Ranked Player. Worse, the Fragment's Reciter, [Best Horror Storyteller], was an X Ranker herself, with deep ties to the [Beast King], a terrifying Z Ranker ranked among the absolute strongest in the Story World.
[Blue Waves] shifted his gaze slightly, then asked in a calm but pointed voice, "And what about [Black Cover]? How's he doing?"
[Blue Cover] flinched slightly, his head looking away in quiet frustration. "He's… still tied up with the D Ranker on [White Space]'s side."
There was a brief pause before he quickly added, trying to sound confident—desperate not to irritate his master, "But don't worry, Master. Brother [Black Cover] will wrap things up soon and join me."
He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying more. A part of him wanted to boast—after all, he was just an E Ranker facing down two measly F Rankers. He didn't need help.
But [Blue Waves] had warned him time and time again: underestimate [Root of All Things] and [Masked Threat], and you'll regret it.
Those two stories, weak in rank though they were, weren't simple. Not even close.
[Blue Cover] didn't say anything, he stood beside [Blue Waves] as they kept watching Gara and Leif from a distance in silence.
...
The red-haired young man and his blonde-haired companion finally arrived at the base of the towering Mountain of Lightning—a jagged, storm-wrapped colossus stretching over two hundred meters high. Bolts of lightning crashed against its rocky surface every second, illuminating the sky in bursts of white-blue light.
Before they took another step, Leif reached into the air and summoned a small blue pill, he then swallowed it without hesitation. The red-haired young man did the same thing right after.
Earlier, Gara had his doubts. His plan had been simple: let Leif go first. If he got zapped, Gara would know the pills were fake. But after their encounter with the old man—[White Space], an actual SS Ranker—those doubts had faded.
If someone like that had been sent to protect them, then whoever stood behind Leif had to be the real deal. There was no way a liar would have that kind of power on their side.
"Alright," he muttered, glancing at the crackling mountain before them, "let's see if this actually works."
With that, Gara stepped forward, and Leif followed close behind. Their climb up the Mountain of Lightning had officially begun.
Though, they couldn't make it even thirty meters up the slope when a creature leaped out from behind a jagged outcrop—a lightning wolf.
It looked almost like a regular wolf, with coarse gray fur and piercing yellow eyes ringed with black. Its lips curled back in a snarl, revealing jagged fangs as it crouched low, ready to pounce. An oppressive aura surrounded it—F Rank, just like them. But compared to Players, monsters were nothing special.
No matter how powerful a beast got, it was still just that—a beast. A Player of equal strength usually had the edge. The reason was simple: monsters fought with instinct, while Players fought with thought.
And thought almost always won.
Before the wolf could take a single step forward, a thunderous crack split the air.
A lightning bolt struck the ground beside it, shattering the rocky surface and sending debris flying in every direction. Gara instinctively stepped back, his body tensing. He had seen it—just for a moment—the bolt had been heading straight for Leif. But at the last second, it veered off, redirected somehow, and crashed down beside the monster instead.
'The pill... it actually works.'
That thought had barely formed when another bolt flashed down from the stormy sky—this time, aiming right for him.
Gara's heart stopped. His muscles locked up. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. The sensation of death loomed heavy over him.
But just like before, the bolt twisted at the last moment, crashing harmlessly a few meters away. The ground trembled, scorched and cracked, but Gara remained untouched.
Only then did he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him.
He was safe. The pill worked. The lightning that ruled this mountain—at least for now—would not touch them.
Leif narrowed his eyes as the first wolf crept forward, low to the ground and snarling. A second followed, then a third. In the blink of an eye, the rocky slope was crawling with them—ten, no, more—lightning wolves crackling with energy, eyes glowing with cold hostility. The air around them pulsed with static, the ground vibrating under the weight of the coming storm.
Even if these weren't ordinary wolves, their instincts remained the same—they hunted in packs. Never alone.
Gara glanced back at Leif, calm despite the rising tension. "I'll take all of them," he said, voice low and steady. "I'll try to end this fast. You stay sharp—watch out for [Blue Cover], or worse, [Black Cover]."
Leif gave a single nod, his lips pressed into a tight line. He stepped back without a word, fading into the shadows between jagged rocks.
Gara exhaled slowly. Then, he moved.
Green Cores shimmered as he fed them into his Original Story—[Root of All Things]. Power surged through him, and the temperature around them dropped sharply. Frost kissed the stone beneath his feet.
Ice bloomed like silver veins across the mountain's surface.
In a heartbeat, five crystalline walls rose between him and the wolves, jagged and shimmering under the lightning-lit sky. Without hesitation, Gara raised his hand and loosed three arrows of pure ice. They whistled through the air, sharp and fast.
One of the wolves leapt to evade—but too slow. An arrow drove into its leg, sending it crashing into the stone with a whimper and a snarl. The others didn't wait. Howls filled the air, and lightning burst from their mouths like living flame.
Crackling bolts slammed into the ice walls.
The first shattered instantly. Then the second. A chorus of thunder echoed across the slope as the remaining walls crumbled one by one under the force of their assault.
The wolves charged, stormlight flashing across their bodies, claws and fangs ready to rip through the one who dared to challenge their pack.
And Gara stood waiting, calm in the eye of the storm.
He didn't flinch.
The ice walls were never meant to stop them—only to buy him seconds.
Seconds were all he needed.
As the last shards of ice hit the ground, he extended his arms, cold mist spiraling from his palms. Ten spears of ice formed in the air around him—razor-sharp, glowing faintly with the pale light of his Story's power.
He didn't hesitate.
With a flick of his hands, the lances tore through the sky like frozen comets.
The wolf with the wounded leg didn't even have time to react—it collapsed instantly, a lance through its skull. Two others were impaled mid-lunge, their bodies thudding against the ground with a crunch of bone and frost.
The rest scattered in a panic, but not unscathed. A few limped, blood staining their grey fur. Others bore gashes from glancing blows, steam rising where ice met lightning.
Gara took a slow step forward, eyes steady.
Three down. Seven more to go.
He raised his hands once more, summoning fresh walls of ice to stagger the few wolves still capable of movement. They crashed against the barriers, snarling, but couldn't push through fast enough.
The injured ones—those writhing on the ground or barely able to stand—he dispatched without hesitation. Ice spears tore through them with precise, brutal efficiency. Their bodies fell silent beneath the mountain's endless storm.
When the remaining wolves finally broke through the frost-slicked walls, they leapt with jaws wide and lightning crackling in their throats. But the distance was too great, and Gara was ready.
He launched another barrage of spears.
One after another, the wolves fell mid-air—frozen shards piercing their sides, their howls cut short. Steam and blood mingled with the shattered ice on the mountain slope.
A minute passed. The world went quiet again.
All around them, the corpses of the lightning wolves lay scattered—frozen, broken, and unmoving.
Leif stepped up beside him. "You're stronger than you look."
Gara smiled faintly, but didn't respond. Without a word, he turned back toward the mountain.
And kept climbing.
Leif followed, silent, the storm above them still rumbling.
Throughout their ascent, they ran into more packs of lightning wolves—each one fiercer and more desperate than the last. And each time, Gara stood at the front, wielding nothing but his Ice Techniques. He didn't even touch his Wood Techniques, nor did he draw the Geru Sword—the weapon Leif had heard was his strongest card.
Leif watched in silence, both impressed and a little concerned. The red-haired young man was fighting well, holding his own without flinching, but it was clear the cost was stacking up. His breath was growing heavier, his movements slightly slower, and with every battle, he poured more and more Green Cores into his story to keep going.
By the time they reached the 170-meter mark—just shy of the summit—Leif raised his hand. "Let's stop for a moment," he said. "You need a break."
Gara didn't argue. He leaned against a jagged stone, chest rising and falling with exhaustion. The mountain wind howled around them, mingling with the ever-present crackle of lightning above.
He knew the hardest part hadn't even started yet. At the top, it would all fall on him. Wolves, Cover Club members—maybe even [Black Cover] himself. He couldn't afford to be drained when they reached the final stretch.
Leif, without a word, handed over a few Green Cores. Gara took them quietly, nodding in thanks, and sat back to regain what little strength he could before the final climb.
As Gara sat catching his breath, the familiar crackle of lightning and low growls warned them—more wolves were coming.
"I've got this. You rest," Leif said calmly, stepping forward. A pulse of black energy shimmered across his body as he summoned his weapon: a long, obsidian odachi that radiated quiet menace.
He inhaled deeply, then vanished in a blur.
Like a shadow darting through chaos, Leif weaved between the wolves in a zigzag path—every movement sharp, efficient, merciless. Steel flashed, lightning cracked, and heads rolled before the monsters even knew what hit them. Within seconds, it was over. The wolves collapsed one by one, lifeless.
Silence returned just as quickly.
Gara stared, a flicker of awe in his eyes. Leif had made it look easy. He didn't want to admit it, but it was clear: Leif was stronger. Or at least, it felt that way.
Of course, Gara hadn't used everything yet—he still had his Wood Techniques, and the Geru Sword remained untouched. But even so, the difference in their control, speed, and presence was obvious.
He exhaled quietly and looked down at his hands. He needed more. More skill, more experience, more power. If he wanted to protect the people around him… if he wanted to stand on equal ground—
He had to get stronger. Much stronger.
And as Gara drifted deeper into his thoughts—frustration, ambition, determination swirling inside him like a storm—something snapped him back.
A pulse. A presence.
He wasn't the only one who felt it. Leif's head turned sharply to the side, eyes narrowing. The air grew heavier, the atmosphere charged with an oppressive tension. Both of them shifted their gaze toward the path ahead.
Emerging from behind a jagged rock, a wolf stepped forward—but unlike the others, this one was different.
Its fur was not the dull grey of the others, but a deep, crackling blue, shimmering with threads of lightning dancing across its pelt. Its eyes were not yellow, but glowing crimson, burning like coals in the dark.
It growled low, almost like a hiss, and took a step forward. The ground beneath its paw sizzled with static.
Then came the aura—dense, suffocating, undeniable.
E Rank.
The first E Rank monster they'd encountered on the Mountain.
Gara instinctively pushed himself up, preparing to fight, but—
Leif extended his hand without looking back, palm open in a silent command.
"Stay."
There was no arrogance in his voice. No pride. Just calm certainty. A quiet resolve.
Gara froze, then sat back down, eyes locked on the battlefield as Leif took a slow step forward, black odachi resting at his side, the wind catching his cloak as lightning flashed above.
Leif's grip on the black odachi tightened as his aura surged.
The air grew darker—not just in tone, but in feeling. A shadowy veil unraveled from his body, seeping outward like ink across water, cloaking him in blackness. His form blurred beneath the weight of his Story, [Masked Threat], shadows coiling and twisting around him like whispering ghosts.
There was no flash. No explosion. Just a suffocating stillness… and the quiet, creeping dread that followed it.
The crimson-eyed wolf snarled, but its paw hesitated mid-step. It could feel it—this was not an opponent to take lightly. Even as an E Ranker, the beast's instincts screamed caution. There was something wrong with this boy. Something dangerous.
From the sidelines, Gara watched in silence, brow furrowed in concentration.
'So this is the true shape of his story…'
The shadows oozing from Leif's form didn't just conceal—they threatened. Each ripple of his aura carried the weight of a quiet death. Silent, certain, and impossible to stop once it began.
And yet, Leif didn't move.
He stood still, calm, controlled. Waiting.
He wouldn't use [Lightning Dance] here, not in this place. Not on this mountain. Even with the blue pill's protection, drawing on lightning would risk attracting the mountain's fury. And if the storm above grew curious… no pill could save them then.
No.
This fight wouldn't be about power.
It would be about control.
About precision.
And about shadows.
—End of Chapter.
-------
Who is better?
Gara: Why you aura farming dude? You're making me look bad, and I'm supposed to be the main character here.
Leif: Then act like one.
Gara: Wow!!! You're really gonna do that? Like... You do know my goal is to become the strongest?
Leif: It's not even on my mind, and yet, look what's happening.
Gara: Do you secretly hate me or something? Why are you throwing insults my way?
Leif: So you can get up and do your job, you're supposed to protect me, not the other way around.
Gara: Alright... Next chapter, I'll roast you, you just wait.
Leif: Even talking back is hard for you, you should really learn something or two from me.
Gara left the chat to go cry in the corner.