Patron 107

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Duke Komalon’s Office.
 

“…Failure, you say? And Marquis Palatio took the Dragon Spirit’s egg?”
 

“Yes.”
 

At the dark elf’s calm nod, Duke Komalon let out a dry chuckle.
 

“Marquis Palatio… What on earth was he doing where the Dragon Spirit’s egg was kept?”
 

“I couldn’t determine the exact reason, but it seems he came at someone’s request.”
 

“A request? By whom?”
 

The duke’s question was met with silence from the dark elf. Realizing the lack of information, Duke Komalon sighed in frustration.
 

“Marquis Palatio… of all people…”

After pondering for a moment, he set down the fountain pen he had been holding and spoke again.
 

“What about the other preparations?”
 

“Everything else is proceeding step by step, excluding the Dragon Spirit’s egg. It shouldn’t take long. The test subjects are progressing as expected.”
 

Hearing this, the duke exhaled deeply.
 

“Ensure everything is prepared properly.”
 

“Yes.”
 

“And as for Marquis Palatio…”

The duke fell silent once more.
 

“…Shall we retrieve the Dragon Spirit’s egg?”
 

The dark elf cautiously posed the question, but the duke shook his head.
 

“No. Now that the awakening has failed, the Dragon Spirit’s egg is no longer necessary for the plan.”
 

“…What should we do, then?”
 

“Hmm, send the test subjects.”
 

“The test subjects, you mean?”
 

“Yes. They’re no longer needed anyway, so dispose of them. If we can assess the marquis’s capabilities in the process, all the better.”
 

“Understood.”
 

“Send them with a convincing message.”

As the dark elf bowed and disappeared, Duke Komalon watched silently, his expression perplexed.
 

“How in the world did he manage to take the Dragon Spirit’s egg…?”
 

Unable to comprehend, his face reflected his confusion.
 

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the ripples of unease stirring within him.
 

At this pivotal moment, as the greater cause drew closer, he needed to remain composed.
 

For that reason alone.
 

“All for the greater cause.”
 

He silently recited the phrase he had repeated to himself thousands of times.

***

‘Was it a misunderstanding?’

Reinhardt was aware.

He understood that he might have been mistaken.
 

No, he was acutely aware that it was overwhelmingly likely to be either a misunderstanding or sheer coincidence.
 

Because logically, it made no sense.

The back of Marquis Palatio, who resided in the Kingdom of Asteria, couldn’t possibly resemble the massive statue he had seen within the Domain of the Hundred Ghosts.
 

‘Surely, that must be it.’
 

Even as he acknowledged that it was illogical and likely a coincidence, he couldn’t stop himself from superimposing the figure before him onto the image etched into his memory.

The flowing black coat, and the two eyes—one black, one blue.
 

It was all too identical.

The vivid memory of that moment was only heightened by the sheer terror of impending death he had faced at the time, engraving the sight of the Hundred Ghosts and the statue behind them indelibly into his mind.

Lost in his daze, Reinhardt stared blankly at the figure before him until—
 

“Exterminate the intruder!”
 

The sudden cry from the Thunder Serpent Tribe jolted him back to his senses.
 

He raised his sword, infusing it with magic.

But then—
 

“…?”
 

He immediately stopped his actions.

The Thunder Serpent warriors, who had seemed ready to charge with weapons drawn, now stood frozen, trembling uncontrollably.
 

And at thaAt that moment, Reinhardt saw it.

The threads of Za’an spread throughout the forest.  

Though invisible to ordinary eyes, those with magical perception could see the threads spreading like spiderwebs across the entire area, entangling every member of the tribe.  

The only one resisting was—  

“Damn it—!”  

The man who had been pointing his sword at Marquis Palatio.  

Unfortunately, even he was completely immobilized.  

….  

Unlike the others, whose limbs were simply bound by the threads, the man standing directly before Alon was practically mummified in Za’an threads, leaving only his face exposed.  

To what extent?  

The threads tightened with such precision that, in an instant, the man could have been reduced to nothing more than a lump of flesh.  

And Deus’s expression, as he gazed at the man who dared to point a sword at the Marquis, was so cold it bordered on icy—an unmistakable chill that anyone could perceive.  

‘It’s not Caliban’s sword, but Marquis Palatio’s own, it seems.’  

Reinhardt, reflecting on the thought, watched as the fight ended almost too quickly, leaving him with a faint sense of deflation.  

‘I couldn’t even fully grasp it… just how strong is that guy becoming?’  

As Reinhardt wrestled with a pang of jealousy toward Deus, who had once again taken a step forward in strength during the time Reinhardt wasn’t watching—  

Alon’s eyes fell on a struggling member of the Thunder Serpent Tribe, masked and twisting their body in resistance.  

‘It was the right choice to bring Deus… though…’ 

Alon let out a small sigh as he noticed the particularly bright, vivid threads of Za’an shining in the air.  

Of course, he could have subdued the tribal member himself with the biting cold he momentarily unleashed, making conversation possible. Still, Deus’s presence had undoubtedly made things much easier.  

Even so, a flicker of unease surfaced in Alon’s mind.  

The reason? These vibrant threads of Za’an, demonstrated for the first time by Deus in Alon’s presence, bore a striking resemblance to the technique Deus had used during his awakening into sin—if only the color of the threads were different.  

‘…No, that can’t be.’  

Turning slightly, Alon cast a glance back at Deus.  

“Shall I kill them, Marquis?”  

Deus asked in his usual calm, detached tone.  

“No.”  

As Alon answered, he couldn’t decide whether to feel reassured or more uneasy.  

‘This power could just as easily be the innate ability of a sword master, not something tied to his awakening into one of the Five Great Sins. Still…’

Shaking off the thought, Alon turned his attention to the subdued tribesman, his brow furrowed slightly.  

“…Normally, they wouldn’t gather like this so quickly after an outsider’s intrusion. What’s going on here?”  

Surveying the dozens of Thunder Serpent Tribe members surrounding him, Alon tilted his head in mild confusion before shrugging.  

‘Looks like we’ll need to have a conversation.’  

Watching the tribal member growl in a voice more beastly than human, Alon sighed.  

“I’ll come to the shallow place below the sky. Welcome the dawn with joy, as I will greet it with you.”  

At Alon’s sudden proclamation, Evan, Deus, and Reinhardt exchanged puzzled looks.  

However—  

“!.”  

The slightly poetic, lengthy phrase seemed to strike a nerve. The once-growling tribesman froze, their eyes behind the mask reflecting astonishment.  

Noticing this change, Alon pressed further.  

“How about it? Isn’t this enough to grant me an audience with your chieftain?”  

Alon himself had no idea what his words meant.  

But he had uttered them with such confidence because he vividly remembered encountering the Thunder Serpent Tribe in the game. There had been a quest involving the tribe, and an NPC had used the exact phrase to gain entry without conflict.  

Confident yet cautious, Alon watched the tribesman.  

“How… how do you know those words…?”  

The tribesman murmured in disbelief but ultimately relented.  

“…Follow me.”  

Satisfied, Alon allowed a faint smile to surface.  

***

Entering the Thunder Serpent Tribe’s village, the first thing Alon felt upon entering the village was its sheer mystique.  

Though he had seen its illustrations countless times, experiencing it firsthand was entirely different. The Thunder Serpent Tribe’s village had been built atop crumbled ruins.  

Alon scanned his surroundings.  

Homes, resembling those of elves, were constructed inside trees, while others were built from restored ruins. Members of the Thunder Serpent Tribe, emerging from these structures, stared at Alon’s group with wary, distrustful eyes.  

As the group proceeded through the village under the tribe’s scrutinizing gazes, they arrived at the center, where a massive temple stood.  

Alon marveled at the temple’s grandeur, which felt more like a harmonious part of nature than a separate structure.  

A tribesman with four horns gestured toward the temple and said, “Follow me.”  

Entering the temple, the group soon arrived at a large tent inside. Within, they found an elderly man clad in white fur, much like the other tribesmen.  

‘He’s different from the chieftain I remember from the game,’ Alon thought as he observed the elder.  

Despite the wrinkles around his eyes, the elder’s gaze was sharp and intelligent as he looked at Alon.  

“…I’ve heard you wished to see me,” the elder said. “Is that true?”  

At the elder’s words addressing him as a “distinguished guest,” Alon momentarily looked puzzled. Then, it dawned on him—it must have been because of the phrase he had uttered earlier.  

‘That’s right. That NPC was also treated as a distinguished guest.’  

Recalling the young girl NPC who had joined him in the jungle only to part ways as soon as the mission ended, Alon nodded slightly to himself.  

“Yes, that’s correct,” he said.  

“First, allow me to introduce myself. I am the one who leads the Thunder Serpent Tribe, known as the ‘Wise Ashgul,’” the elder said.  

“I am Marquis Palatio,” Alon responded.  

As the elder politely bowed his head, Alon mirrored the gesture and introduced himself in turn.  

“Show your respect as well,” Ashgul commanded.  

At his words, the tribesman who had been wearing the four-horned mask earlier removed it.  

‘…A woman?’  

Alon was secretly surprised. He had assumed the tribesman was a man, but it turned out to be a young woman with a youthful appearance. And not just anyone—  

‘… Swift Syrkal?’  

“I am Swift Syrkal,” she introduced herself.  

Realization struck Alon. She was destined to become the future chieftain of the Thunder Serpent Tribe. With this newfound understanding, he looked at her with a fresh perspective.  

“And so,” Ashgul continued, “may I ask what has brought you to seek me out?”  

At the elder’s question, Alon began to deliberate on how to explain his intentions.  

He remained silent for a moment, lost in thought, but soon, with a small nod, he seemed to resolve himself.  

“The reason I have come to the Thunder Serpent Tribe,” he began, looking directly at the Wise Ashgul,  

“is to subjugate the god you revere—‘Basiliora the Receiver.’”  

At this shocking revelation, everyone’s mouths fell open in stunned disbelief.  

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Round 247

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“These sly Americans. We were still gauging the situation, and they made the first move? And they’re the ones who were in the wrong?”

A vast corridor.

Someone was furiously shouting, their face flushed with anger.

Next to them, a sharp-featured woman fanned herself lightly and spoke with a smirk.

“Well, you know what they say, the one who grabs it first gets to keep it.”

“Isn’t it because you lot kept holding each other back?”

“Then what, should we have just stood idly by, wide-eyed, doing nothing?”

As the argument escalated, someone observing silently finally knocked on the table.

The person wore a headband made of smoke — it was Ryu Wang-jin, the Jecheondae-seong.

“Hey, let’s get one thing straight. Lee Kyu-seong is one of our own. Who do you think you’re trying to snatch away?”

“Ryu Wang-jin! You’re part of the problem too! You keep blocking things like this, and now the Americans are about to snatch him away!”

“Snatch? Are you saying Lee Kyu-seong has actually gone to the U.S.?”

“He’s practically on the verge of being taken!”

At the exasperated outcry, Ryu Wang-jin’s brows furrowed.

Seeing this, the woman sighed and tried to mediate between the two.

“Did we gather here just to fight amongst ourselves? Honestly, every time we meet, it ends like this.”

“Then come up with a solution! Is the Tang Clan just going to sit back and watch?”

The woman’s affiliation became clear.

She was the head of the Tang Clan of Sichuan, seated right there among them.

“Still, there’s a sense of propriety. How could we act before the Tower Guild Master does? Don’t you think?”

“We’ve tolerated it long enough! And now look at us, letting the Americans almost take him while you sit there spouting nonsense about propriety and family ties!”

As Ryu Wang-jin’s mood soured further, the enraged man turned to the Tang Clan leader, shouting.

“I hear even the Tang Clan’s pharmaceutical and poison-related techniques are stagnating! If Lee Kyu-seong had come to China, it might’ve solved your problems too! He’s a plant specialist, after all!”

“That’s enough.”

The woman finally intervened, her fan covering the lower half of her face as her tone turned stern.

But the man, undeterred, continued his tirade.

“This is all because of the Tower Guild’s greed! Is healing Ryu Cheon’s illness all that matters to you? Why hoard all the benefits for yourselves while leaving the rest of us in the dark?”

“Rao Yi.”

Ryu Wang-jin called the man’s name in a low, chilling voice.

Smoke began to swirl ominously, filling the corridor.

“You called this meeting. And now you act this rude?”

Only then did Rao Yi snap out of it, flinching and glancing around nervously.

Then, with a scowl, he muttered, “What’s this? Are you threatening me now?”

“A threat? From me? To you? Hahaha!”

Ryu Wang-jin laughed loudly before rising from his seat.

Even though Rao Yi was a level 8 awakened, he instinctively stepped back under the weight of Ryu Wang-jin’s overwhelming presence.

“If this discussion is over, I’ll take my leave. What a waste of time listening to such pointless chatter.”

“Lee Kyu-seong! Are you just going to leave him like this?”

Rao Yi yelled desperately.

At this, Ryu Wang-jin’s eyes flashed dangerously as he issued a final warning.

“If, by any chance, anyone dares lay a finger on Lee Kyu-seong… I will destroy them with all my might. Remember that.”

“…”

Overwhelmed by the aura, Rao Yi fell silent.

With that, Ryu Wang-jin left the room, followed closely by the Tang Clan leader.

“Guild Master, a moment, please.”

“Hm?”

“Rao Yi’s words were harsh, but shouldn’t we be a little concerned about Lee Kyu-seong? If we don’t act, the U.S. might…”

“There’s no need to worry. Lee Kyu-seong won’t go to the U.S.”

Ryu Wang-jin chuckled softly and continued walking.

As he did, he added, almost as if to himself…

“Tang Clan, if you ever need a connection to Lee Kyu-seong, just let me know. I was already planning to visit Korea soon, so I’ll arrange it in advance.”

“Oh! In that case, may I come along?”

In truth, this had been her primary goal in coming here.

As Rao Yi had mentioned, the Tang Clan was currently facing a difficult situation. Although still one of China’s top ten guilds, their prestige was not what it used to be.

“If you’re willing to take the lead yourself, who am I to stop you?”

“I’ll go personally.”

“Understood.”

“But are you also visiting Korea to prevent the U.S. from making a move, Ryu Wang-jin?”

“Me? I’m going there for leisure.”

“…What?”

In this situation?

The Tang Clan leader’s confusion was met with a mischievous grin as Ryu Wang-jin turned to face her.

“My good friend is there, you see.”

Crunch!

Munch munch.

“Wow, this is delicious!”

At that moment, Ryu Wang-jin’s friend was happily munching on an apple.

***

The location was an apple orchard. After stopping by the Awakener Headquarters, I had come here before heading home.

“Hmm, there’s quite a variety of apple breeds.”

“Right? These days, technology has advanced so much that there are even more varieties. In fact, the advancements in mana stone grafting techniques are outpacing what most farmers can handle,” the orchard owner said, clearly troubled.

Meanwhile, I was busy touching, sniffing, and tasting various apples, comparing their characteristics.

“It seems this variety, which has the least pest concerns, would be the best for a beginner to grow.”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.”

Slimes are exceptional farmers, unrivaled in their care and cultivation skills. The only concern here was deciding which type to grow.

“I’ll take 20 saplings each of these, and this one, and that one.”

“Got it.” 

The orchard owner hesitated briefly, seemingly surprised by my choices, but soon prepared the 20 saplings as requested.  

Using Bokkeum, I collected the saplings, a process the orchard owner watched with fascination.  

“Wow, are you by chance in the Awakener industry? You’re taking these for research, right?”  

“Well, something like that.”  

Could this be considered research? Either way, I felt a little excited about purchasing fruit saplings for the first time. While I could’ve had the guild procure the saplings, I wanted to personally select and take the first fruits home myself.  

“This is going to be delicious!”  

“Yep, I can’t wait.”  

With the saplings purchased, we headed back home.  

We’d been out all day, and Cheong was probably worried about us.  

“We’re back! Cheong!”  

As soon as Ara returned, she immediately began looking for Cheong.  

Cheong’s icon appeared on the mini-map, resting quietly in the slime village. Guided by the icon, we headed toward the village.  

“Shh, you’re here?”  

Seon-ah greeted us softly, placing a finger to her lips. She was seated on the floor, with Cheong nestled in her lap, sleeping peacefully like a little angel.  

It made sense for her to be tired. We had returned so late. Ara gently stroked Cheong’s hair, gazing lovingly at his sleeping face. Even in his sleep, Cheong smiled faintly at the touch, making him all the more adorable.  

We watched him for a while, filled with warmth, before I asked Seon-ah how Cheong had been.  

“Was everything okay?”  

“Yeah, he was well-behaved. Did you manage to settle things?”  

“More or less.”  

At that moment, as if hearing our conversation, Cheong stirred awake. His eyes fluttered open, and he began glancing around to see who was there.  

When he spotted Ara and me, his face lit up with joy.  

“Sis!? Dad!!”  

“Awake, are you? Sis is here!”  

Ara greeted him with a bright smile, and Cheong’s eyes sparkled with excitement. His joy soon grew so overwhelming that tears began streaming down his face.  

“Waaah! Sis!”  

“Why are you crying?!”  

“I missed you!”  

Cheong ran into Ara’s arms, clinging tightly. Ara gently hugged him, stroking his hair to calm him down.  

“I missed you too! Did you have fun while I was gone?”  

Almost immediately, Cheong stopped crying. Ara had a surprising knack for soothing children.  

‘An unexpected talent!’  

As I was mulling over this, Cheong wriggled free and toddled over to me with unsteady steps.  

“Dad! I missed you!”  

“Oh, my little Cheong missed his dad, huh? Come here, that’s it.”  

I scooped up the stumbling Cheong and held him close. Ara followed, and I ended up holding them both in a big hug.  

“This feels so good! I’m so happy!”  

“I’m happy too!”  

I joined in their cheerful mood, hugging them tightly and feeling a rush of joy.  

What did I do in my past life to deserve such blessings in this one?  

“Me too! Hug me too!”  

Seon-ah, watching with envy, leapt into the hug.  

You’re a grown-up—do you really need to do this?  

We laughed together for a while, enjoying each other’s company, before I finally set them down.  

“Hug me again?”  

Cheong mumbled, clearly disappointed as I put him down. To cheer him up, I brought out Bokkeum.  

“Guess what I brought!”  

“You brought something amazing!”  

At my words, both Seon-ah and Cheong turned their curious eyes toward me.  

Seon-ah, in particular, looked full of anticipation.  

“What is it? An item? An artifact?”  

“Nope, nothing like that.”  

Though I had items waiting to be retrieved from the U.S., this wasn’t the time for that. Instead, I pulled out a small tree.  

“A tree?”  

“It’s a tree!”  

Seon-ah and Cheong each reacted differently. Watching their responses, Ara grinned and shouted,  

“It’s an apple tree!”  

“An apple? Oh, so you finally got some fruit seeds?”  

“Apple? What’s an apple?”  

The saplings we’d bought were about Ara’s height, and it looked like it would take quite a while before they’d be ready to bear fruit. I’d wanted to get a fully grown apple tree too, but none were for sale, so I had to settle for these saplings.  

“Can’t you ask the guild to help?”  

“Hmm, I suppose I could. I’ll plant the saplings and try to get a fully grown tree as well.”  

Trees grown in dungeons and those already matured in the wild were bound to have differences.  

“Let’s plant them tomorrow. It’s bedtime now.”  

“I’ve been waiting for Ara and Cheong all day!”  

At Seon-ah’s words, I looked down at Cheong, who was gazing up at me with teary, expectant eyes.  

“Let’s go to the hot springs together!”  

“What’s a hot spring?”  

I realized Cheong hadn’t been shown around the dungeon yet. Turning to Seon-ah, she let out a small sigh and explained.  

“He’s been too scared to explore without you and Ara. We just spent the whole day checking the fields.”  

“I see.”  

That made sense, given Cheong’s timid nature. Well, in that case, why not now? A bath before bed sounded like a perfect plan.  

“Shall we go for a bath, Cheong?”  

“Is it washing my face?”  

Cheong tilted his head in confusion. I instinctively glanced at Ara for help, but she only tilted her chin up as if to say, Why are you looking at me?  

“It’s not just washing your face! It’s jumping into the water!”  

“Is it washing my face?”  

“It’s not just washing your face!”  

Cheong looked at me with a gaze that seemed to ask, How is this any different from washing my face?  

Perhaps Ara’s face-washing technique had left a strong impression on him.  

It seemed best to just show her directly.  

Gathering the kids, along with the slimes and Kkumuris, we headed to the hot springs.  

The humid air and the distinct sulfuric smell of the hot springs greeted us. Cheong, clearly startled by the unfamiliar sight and experience, looked around nervously.  

“It’s s-scary!”  

“It’s okay!”  

Ara immediately took Cheong by the hand and led him to the changing room, helping him get dressed in bath attire.  

“They’re both just too cute, aren’t they?”  

Seon-ah clasped her hands and trembled with excitement, her eyes sparkling. She then tried to pull out a camera, but I managed to stop her just in time.  

“Alright, are you all dressed?”  

“Yep!”  

“Yes!”  

The kids responded cheerfully.  

Nearby, the slimes and Kkumuris, fully decked out in all sorts of swim gear, waited quietly for their turn.  

“Great! Let’s all go for a bath now, shall we?”  

“Yay!!”  

“Yes!!”  

Leaving the changing room, we first rinsed off in the warm water. The hot springs were expansive, offering a variety of pools with different temperatures.  

“Wheee!”  

“This feels amazing!”  

Together with Seon-ah, we helped the kids get cleaned up and then began fully enjoying the hot springs.  

“Hmm?”  

At that moment, other guests arrived at the hot springs.  

They were fairies.  

“Wowww! Sister Frey is here!” 

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Patron 106

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Before the night deepened, Alon returned to the camp with Celaime Mikardo, who no longer had a reason to continue his research after the Hermit’s Hideout opened.  

“…Are you asking about how to ascend to the next rank?”  

“That’s correct. I assumed there would be some information about that there.”  

As they conversed on their way back to the camp, Alon contemplated Celaime’s response.  

“There probably isn’t anything beyond the 8th rank.”  

According to Alon’s understanding of the Psychedelia system, a mage capable of using Origin magic would reach the pinnacle at the 8th rank.  

“I see.”  

“Indeed. Although it wasn’t as significant as I expected once we got there, it wasn’t a waste. I gained plenty by studying the magic circle at the gateway.”  

Alon quietly nodded at Celaime’s cheerful laughter. He didn’t want to dampen Celaime’s enthusiasm for exploring magic to ascend further, even though he found it unnecessary.  

‘Then again, just because the system doesn’t mention anything beyond the 8th rank doesn’t mean the 9th rank couldn’t exist.’  

The thought crossed his mind.  

‘Speaking of which, what happened to Celaime Mikardo in the original story?’  

Celaime Mikardo had never appeared in the original work Alon remembered. Even during conversations with the hysterical Penia in the original story, topics related to the Tower Lord were never mentioned.  

‘Did I forget? It’s been so long, and my memory might be getting fuzzy unless I check my notebook.’  

Alon recalled the notebook he had kept, jotting down useful knowledge about this world in his spare time to prevent forgetting crucial details.  

‘Still, I’m certain Celaime didn’t appear in the original Psychedelia story.’  

His certainty grew as he replayed every relevant moment in his memory.  

“By the way, may I ask you something?”  

“What is it?”  

When Celaime cautiously inquired about how Alon had found the true key for the second gateway, Alon firmly refused to answer.  

“I’m afraid I can’t share that.”  

In the mage community, it was considered impolite to ask about magic developed by someone else outside the established magic hierarchy. Alon used this etiquette to confidently decline.  

‘Not that it matters. My magic is mostly flashy tricks without any substance.’ 

As Alon pondered why his little white lie had worked, Celaime continued to smile.  

“Haha, apologies. I was just too curious.”  

“It’s fine.”  

“Well, perhaps if we grow closer, you might share the basics with me someday.”  

“…?”  

Celaime laughed heartily, and Alon briefly puzzled over the word closer.  

“Well then, I should get going.”  

“Are you leaving?”  

“Yes, I have a lot to do. Even two bodies wouldn’t be enough.”  

Celaime excused himself as soon as they arrived at the camp, which relieved Alon. Being around Celaime had an inexplicably uncomfortable air.  

“See you next time.”  

“Sure.”  

Alon gave a casual reply to Celaime’s polite farewell and watched him vanish into the distance.  

“Whew.”  

He let out a heavy sigh.  

“That’s the second task done.”  

As he walked toward the inn, Alon reviewed his next steps.  

“Now, only the final task remains.”  

To prepare for the Forgotten One, he reflected on the main reason he had come to the jungle. A presence—more than an item—was essential to his plans.  

“Everything’s ready.”  

With that thought, he fiddled with the ring he had received from Heinkel and returned to the inn.  

“You’ve returned, my lord.”  

“Deus?”  

“Yes, I’m back.”  

The moment Alon entered, Deus greeted him with a respectful bow. Another figure, however, eyed Alon with a mix of disdain and irritation.  

“Hmm, so you’re the Marquis?”  

The man, tall and menacing, stood out. Alon immediately recognized him. Reinhardt, who was meant to be Caliban’s greatest swordsman, had finally appeared.  

‘Huge. I knew he was tall, but he’s definitely over two meters.’  

Without realizing it, Alon tilted his head back to look up at Reinhardt. Even with Alon’s own considerable height, Reinhardt’s towering presence was imposing.  

The rough and intimidating face of the man contrasted sharply with the noble-sounding name Reinhardt, amplifying the tension in the air.  

Adding to the overall disarray, Reinhardt’s clothes had been reduced to near-rags after spending an extended period in the jungle before Deus found him. In his current state, Reinhardt resembled nothing more than a bandit—no more, no less.  

‘In Psychedelia, even with his rough features, he had a clean, noble appearance that fit the image of a dignified knight.’ 

As Alon found himself staring at the stark contrast between the Reinhardt he knew and the one before him, Reinhardt frowned and spoke.  

“What are you staring at? Since I introduced myself, you should—”  

But before he could finish, a loud smack interrupted him, forcing his head to jerk forward.  

“Mind your manners,” Deus interjected.  

“You bastard!” Reinhardt growled, glaring fiercely at Deus after being struck.  

Deus, however, remained calm and repeated, “Mind your manners.”  

“It’s not me who’s rude! Don’t you have eyes? He’s the one who—”  

“Weren’t you the one who first spoke disrespectfully?”  

“I’m allowed to!”  

“No, you’re not.”  

“Yes, I am!”  

“You may, but only if you can defeat me.”  

“Grrk—”  

Deus’s words struck a nerve. When he mentioned an apparent agreement between the two—something Alon wasn’t aware of—Reinhardt let out a guttural yell of frustration.  

“Fine! I apologize for my rudeness, Marquis Palatio,” Reinhardt said with no sincerity, his voice laced with irritation.  

“It’s fine,” Alon replied nonchalantly.  

Reinhardt, displeased by the indifferent response, grumbled as he sat down, leaving Alon with a strange sense of unease.  

‘He was supposed to be a reckless character who’d never bow his head to anyone… seeing him like this feels awkward.’ 

Alon briefly shrugged off the memory of the promise Deus had casually mentioned earlier before shifting the conversation.  

“Let’s save the discussion for later and rest for today.”  

That night, despite the persistent, sticky humidity, Alon managed to fall asleep quickly, as though he had grown accustomed to the discomfort.  

***

The following day, a light drizzle greeted Alon as he looked outside the inn. Soon, Deus shared some background on Reinhardt.

“…He came to the jungle to train?”  

“Yes. He mentioned spending time in the Selvanus region and the northern zone.”  

“The northern zone?”  

“That’s correct.”  

It was unusual. The Selvanus region was not a place one would choose for training, as it was rife with powerful mutated creatures. While a newly-minted sword master like the prodigiously talented Fillian might survive, it would still be an arduous experience.  

‘Training in a place like that… it’s possible because it’s Reinhardt, but even so, the northern zone seems extreme.’  

The northern zone, also known as the Territory of the Hundred Ghosts, was a place even Deus would struggle with. The mutated creatures there were only slightly stronger than those in Selvanus, but the real problem lay elsewhere—the subordinates of the Hundred Ghosts.  

“From what I’ve heard, though, he didn’t seem to spend much time in the northern zone.”  

“Really?”  

“Yes. It seems he spent most of his time in the Selvanus region.”  

Nodding at the timely explanation, Alon couldn’t help but marvel at Reinhardt’s strength. Yet his gaze drifted back to Deus.  

‘And Deus defeated someone like Reinhardt…’  

“Is something wrong, Marquis?” Deus asked, noticing Alon’s lingering stare.  

Contemplating his response, Alon eventually spoke calmly.  

“It’s good to see.”  

The sentiment carried a sense of paternal pride, as if watching a son achieve greatness. But saying so outright felt awkward, so Alon chose his words carefully.  

“…Is that so?”  

“Yes, you’re doing well.”  

“Understood.”  

Deus, perhaps feeling some sense of pride at Alon’s words, displayed a rare, slightly smug expression. After some time passed in conversation, they finished a simple breakfast with Evan and Reinhardt, who had also joined them on the first floor. Then Alon broached an important question.  

“Deus, are you heading back now?”  

“I am. …Will you not return with me, my lord?”  

“I have somewhere else I need to stop by.”  

“Then I’ll accompany you.”  

“…Haven’t you accomplished your purpose? Shouldn’t you be heading back?”  

“A few more days won’t hurt.”  

“In truth, I was going to ask you to join me if you didn’t mind. Thank you for offering.”  

“It’s no problem.”  

Deus’s straightforward response prompted Reinhardt to interject.  

“So, am I supposed to wait here?”  

“Come along.”  

“Why should I do that?”  

Reinhardt retorted sharply, his tone defiant.  

“So you don’t run off again.”  

“What? Me? That’s absurd!”  

“Did you think I wouldn’t figure out you fled to the jungle to avoid calling me brother?”  

Reinhardt clamped his mouth shut at Deus’s pointed accusation, his reason for escaping to the jungle—one Alon hadn’t cared to know—laid bare.  

Witnessing the spectacle, Alon, who had been quietly enjoying the rare scene, cleared his throat. Evan, watching alongside him, leaned closer to ask softly.  

“So, where are we going?”  

“To the Thunder Serpent tribe.”  

“The Thunder Serpent tribe? …Wait, you mean the one in the east?”  

“Yes.”  

At Alon’s confirmation, Reinhardt frowned deeply.  

“What? You’re heading there? Marquis Palatio, do you even know what that place is like?”  

“Of course.”  

The Thunder Serpent tribe’s territory lay in the eastern zone, one of three areas the jungle camp had mapped. It remained the least developed region because of the tribe’s strict policy of rejecting outsiders.  

“…You’re aware they’re there and still intend to go?”  

“Yes.”  

“Hah—”  

Reinhardt couldn’t hide his disbelief, which earned him another smack.  

“Ow! You bastard!”  

“Mind your manners.”  

“Do you have a death wish?!”  

“If you’d like to see who dies first, be my guest.”  

Reinhardt erupted in anger after being struck again by Deus, but Alon remained composed as he watched the scene.  

‘If he knows about the Thunder Serpent tribe, that reaction is expected.’  

In the game and its lore, the Thunder Serpent tribe was an exceptionally challenging foe. Each member of the tribe was at least as strong as a knight, and their combat efficiency doubled in the jungle.  

Adding to the difficulty was their mastery of curses. From the moment one became hostile to the Thunder Serpent tribe, over ten different debuffs would start afflicting the intruder, persisting until they left the eastern zone.  

Even so, Alon wasn’t overly concerned—Reinhardt and Deus were by his side.  

Still, there was one reason for caution: the Thunder Serpent tribe had an absolute being they revered, a god-like presence.  

…And that being was Alon’s target.  

With that in mind, Alon stood up.  

“Since we’re done here, let’s head out.”  

“To meet the Thunder Serpent tribe.”  

By the time the rain had stopped, Alon’s party began their journey toward the eastern zone—a region avoided by even the most daring explorers and mercenaries.  

About an hour or two after entering the zone, Reinhardt glanced ahead at Marquis Palatio with faint irritation.  

Truthfully, Reinhardt didn’t like the Marquis. Not because Alon had wronged him directly, but because Reinhardt often suffered incidental “collateral damage” because of him.  

‘What’s so great about him that Deus gives those long-winded speeches during meetings?’  

Reinhardt couldn’t understand why Deus always spoke so highly of Alon, almost as if it were second nature.  

Sure, he had heard through the knights about Alon’s significant contributions during the northern campaign years ago, but surely that story had been milked long enough.  

The Alon he saw in person didn’t seem particularly extraordinary, contrary to the tales. If it weren’t for the knights who endlessly praised the Marquis after their northern expedition, Reinhardt would have assumed the rumors were exaggerated.  

Already annoyed at being dragged out here instead of returning to Caliban, Reinhardt was grumbling to himself when he suddenly drew his sword.  

They appeared.  

Draped in white animal pelts and wearing masks made of animal bones, a group of unknown individuals emerged like mirages in their path.  

Reinhardt frowned deeply as he took in the sight.  

“We’ve already fallen victim to their curses.”  

He could feel his senses dulling as if submerged in water.  

“Be warned, outsiders. This is the land of the Blue Serpent. Leave.”  

The one speaking wore a mask adorned with four horns, and their guttural growl carried an undeniable weight of authority. Reinhardt, unable to stop himself, let out a low whistle of admiration.  

‘Not a Sword Master, but close. To think someone without formal martial arts training could reach this level.’ 

Fascinated by the unexpected prowess of the masked figure, Reinhardt’s observation was short-lived.  

“We’ve come to meet your chieftain.”  

“You dare ignore my warning.”  

What Reinhardt saw—or rather, was forced to see—was a breathtaking display.  

The moment Marquis Palatio finished speaking, a tribe member lunged forward, their long single-edged blade slicing through the air with deadly precision.  

Crack!  

In an instant, everything froze.  

Not just the blade.  

Around Marquis Palatio, the world began to crystallize with frost, as if nature itself was recoiling from his presence. The drizzle turned to ice. The surrounding plants shimmered with frost.  

Even the blade that had been thrust forward froze solid.  

And then, the hand that held the blade followed, encased in a glistening shell of ice.  

Everything froze.  

Reinhardt, stunned by the spectacle, could only watch as his pupils widened uncontrollably. But it wasn’t just the frozen surroundings that rattled him—it was what he saw behind Alon.  

Two eyes glimmered in the void behind the Marquis. They radiated an ominous presence, one that seemed to deny even the concept of recognition itself.  

The sensation clawed at Reinhardt’s mind, gnawing at his sanity in an instant.  

Yet, what truly shocked Reinhardt wasn’t even that.  

It was the figure before him: Alon, his fur-lined coat billowing, and the two glowing eyes hovering ominously behind him.  

The image was hauntingly familiar.  

Somewhere deep within Reinhardt’s subconscious, it struck a chord—a scene he couldn’t place but which felt seared into his memory.  

Compelled by instinct, Reinhardt frantically searched his mind for the source of this familiarity. And then, it came to him.  

A year ago.  

When Reinhardt had ventured boldly into a place of whispered rumors—only to flee in utter defeat.  

A single attack had shattered his sword mercilessly, leaving him with a crushing sense of failure greater than anything even Deus had inflicted.  

…The statue?  

Yes, it was the statue.  

Behind the Hundred Ghosts, seated upon a massive boulder, was a towering sculpture carved into the face of a sheer cliff.  

And now, the image of that statue and the figure of Marquis Palatio standing before him were eerily, hauntingly identical.

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Lesson 23

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Ho-cheol took out a notebook. MT was MT, but lectures needed to be delivered.  

Contrary to his belief in practical education, reality was far from ideal.  

The training facility closed due to a villain attack was still unavailable due to security system checks and updates.  

Originally, this lecture was prepared to follow up on practical sessions by addressing key points and shortcomings. But there was no other choice now.  

“Alright, shall we start the lecture?”  

At those words, the students, who had been chattering about MT, fell silent and focused on Ho-cheol.  

Opening the first page of the notebook he placed on the lectern, he glanced at the students and asked.  

“Before we begin, let me ask one question. What is improvisation?”  

In response, Da-yeon straightened her back and answered.  

“It is the ability to respond and adapt immediately to unforeseen variables or sudden changes in circumstances.”  

“That’s right. Then, is being skilled in improvisation considered praise?”  

Da-yeon couldn’t answer immediately.  

Socially, it would be seen as a compliment. But why was he asking such a straightforward question? There was clearly another implication.  

She couldn’t deny it outright, nor could she affirm it with confidence. She only had a vague idea, not the certainty of the answer.  

In the end, knowing she might be wrong, she nodded.  

“Yes.”  

As expected, Ho-cheol shook his head.  

“Unfortunately, in this industry, being skilled at improvisation isn’t just a compliment.”  

Though this was a tale from ten years ago, when Ho-cheol was actively working, it likely hadn’t changed much since.  

“Improvisation ultimately implies insufficient preparation and planning. The root causes are sloppiness and complacency. Even if resolved, it merely reflects reliance on one’s personal abilities and experience. A proper hero must respond appropriately to all variables.”  

This wasn’t just Ho-cheol’s personal opinion.  

Disaster response manuals alone spanned volumes akin to dozens of encyclopedias.  

In the past, heroes had to fully and flawlessly memorize these manuals. However, modern times demanded a faster supply of heroes, reducing the mandatory content and inevitably leading to a decline in quality.  

Ho-cheol tapped his fingers on the lectern.  

“The academy supports gaining experience through internships and sidekick activities, but that’s not enough. Many end up fumbling through their first real experiences, earning nothing more than a ‘well, at least they improvised well’ remark.”  

Ho-cheol shook his head again.  

‘Ultimately, throwing freshmen into real-world situations early on—even as minor assistants—would be the best approach. Perhaps I should suggest it to the old man again.’  

“My ideal would be to have you master evacuation protocols, rescue guidelines, villain suppression techniques, and first aid responses for all scenarios. But that diverges from this lecture’s purpose. So, we’ll focus solely on trait-specific responses. Even that will leave us pressed for time.”  

With the steady rise in villain-related disasters, knowing how to handle various traits was no longer optional but a mandatory skill for heroes.  

“In trait-specific battles, information superiority provides an advantage incomparable to compatibility or raw power.”  

“Famous heroes, whose traits and combat styles are well-known, always find themselves at a disadvantage.”  

Ho-cheol picked up a piece of chalk and stood before the blackboard.  

“Through practical experience, you must gradually eliminate areas requiring improvisation. Only when you can respond perfectly to all situations will you truly deserve the title of first-class hero.”  

He began writing on the blackboard—numbers, names, and a single alphabet letter.  

“However, before experience, theoretical learning and practice akin to real combat can drastically shorten that period. Let’s start with the theory.”  

From one name to ten, from ten to twenty, then thirty.  

The numbers before the names soon exceeded three digits. Most names bore the letter ‘A’ at the end, while a few had ‘S.’  

Among the students, a sharp-eyed few recognized some of the names.  

Finishing at the 176th name, Ho-cheol put down the chalk and turned back.  

“The method for responding to all traits is exceedingly simple.”  

So simple, in fact, that teaching it might not even be necessary. It was more of an information transfer than a lesson.  

“Memorize all existing villain trait patterns. Then learn the corresponding countermeasures.”  

The students’ responses were lukewarm.  

Some even looked at him with skepticism.  

“Sure, there are many villains. But the patterns you need to remember are far fewer. Barely enough to fill this blackboard.”  

Ho-cheol smirked.  

“And the reason is simple: because every villain other than me is an idiot.”  

His arrogant attitude of belittling everything other than himself was evident. Yet, his tone carried unwavering conviction.  

“Villains don’t understand the uniqueness or exclusivity of their traits. They treat traits as mere weapons. Ultimately, they just mimic the patterns of similar high-level villains instead of exploring any creative application.”  

This wasn’t just an issue among villains; it was also prevalent among heroes. However, Ho-cheol didn’t bother pointing that out.  

“Therefore, if you can perfectly understand and counter every high-level villain trait in history, even facing an unfamiliar villain will be easy. Improvisation won’t be necessary.”  

At last, a spark of interest lit up in the students’ eyes.  

Simultaneously, doubts arose.  

Some of the villains Ho-cheol listed were S-class, alongside both well-known and unfamiliar names.  

How could a C-class hero like Ho-cheol know so much about so many traits?  

Before they could dwell on their doubts, Ho-cheol dropped another bombshell.  

“By the way, some of today’s lecture content falls under second-class hero information security classified material.”  

His calm tone delayed the students’ realization of the gravity of his statement by a beat.  

“What does he mean by that?”  

“I’m taking on some risk and repercussions for this lecture. Truthfully, I didn’t get permission. But I’m confident this will help you achieve results far beyond the risks I face, so I’m not too concerned.”  

In truth, the consequences might amount to a few scoldings at most.  

The information, after all, was something Ho-cheol himself had provided to the association a decade ago.  

It was only second-class classified back then; now, it was of little value.  

Unaware of this, some students looked at him in awe.  

“That said, do not leak the lecture content carelessly. Now, let’s analyze the first case.”  

“Augmentation traits with a focus on constant activation physical enhancement. One where the bones protrude like weapons, for example…”  

Before the students could fully process, the lecture resumed.  

Flustered, they hurriedly grabbed their pens and opened their notebooks.  

***  

“Now, in Case 53, the trait involves hardening the body. Hardening traits are straightforward, balancing offense and defense well. They’re as strong as steel, absorbing significant impact, making sustained attacks to their limits more effective than a single powerful strike.”  

“Additionally, the inside of joints tends to be softer, making it a viable target. You also need to distinguish between impact absorption and nullification…”  

The lecture continued without even a short break.  

Details on trait categories, forms, various evolutions, and the weaknesses and precautions of each.  

It wasn’t a simple explanation.  

It was an accumulation of knowledge, experiences, and insights Ho-cheol had gained through countless struggles.  

Time passed, even cutting into their precious lunch hour, but no one complained.  

In fact, they were so immersed they didn’t even realize how much time had gone by.  

Eventually,  

“That’s it for Case 176.”  

Ho-cheol set the chalk down as he finished.  

The blackboard was packed to the brim with writing, leaving barely any empty space.  

Sighs of relief escaped from various spots as tension eased.  

Ho-cheol, showing no signs of fatigue, closed his notebook.  

“This was just a universal analysis of those traits. Individual response strategies vary greatly depending on specific traits.”  

In a more relaxed tone, he leaned against the lectern.  

“Hard-earned wisdom holds value equal to experience.”  

Yet the students felt a mysterious sense of unease and shivered lightly.  

For a closing remark, it felt ominous.  

And that unease soon became reality.  

“Which is why I’m assigning you homework. For the 176 cases explained today, I want you to create combat simulations using your own traits to respond to them.”  

Gasp—  

Someone audibly inhaled, though it felt more like they momentarily forgot how to breathe out of sheer shock.  

It wasn’t just 176 traits. Each trait had numerous derivatives and branches.  

Even with basic calculations, the workload was astronomical.  

Regardless of their shock, Ho-cheol continued speaking as if unconcerned.  

“I’m not asking you to guarantee victory in every scenario. Depending on compatibility, power levels, environmental factors, and trait tendencies, there will be opponents where victory is exceedingly difficult or outright impossible. However, as aspiring heroes, think deeply about what the best approach might be. Even if you can’t win, consider how to respond. There are no right answers, but I hope you can come up with results you’re satisfied with.”  

Ho-cheol paused, mentally calculating the timeline.  

“The deadline will be… hmm.”  

He knew full well the task wasn’t just difficult but time-consuming. Setting an overly tight deadline would inevitably lower the quality of their work.  

He rolled down the sleeves of his shirt, fastening the cuffs.  

After a brief consideration, he gave them what he deemed a generous timeframe.  

“I’ll give you three weeks.”  

Of course, from the students’ perspective, it was anything but generous.  

‘Three weeks? This might kill us. Honestly, I want to kill him first. Does he think we only attend his class?’  

“That’s it for today’s lecture.”  

Adjusting his attire, Ho-cheol packed his bag under the collective gaze of his students and left the classroom.  

The mood in the room plummeted as a student sitting next to Da-yeon finally broke the silence.  

“…Wow.”  

It was unclear if it was an exclamation of awe, despair, or both.  

Thoughts of MT or the beach had long vanished from their minds. They didn’t have the mental capacity to spare for such trivialities.  

Slowly lowering their gaze, they stared at the notebook they had been furiously filling in.  

The three-hour lecture, without a single break, had already resulted in over ten pages of notes.  

And yet, it was only half the lecture.  

The rest was up to them to fill in on their own.  

“We’re screwed.”  

The muttered words came from one student, but it echoed the sentiments of everyone in the room.  

***

Back at his accommodations, Ho-cheol skipped his meal to focus on organizing the MT itinerary.  

To avoid wasting even a second, he meticulously planned the schedule and route.  

On the floor, with her legs propped up on the bed, So-hee fiddled with her phone and asked.  

“Oh, where are we going for MT? You said the vote was today, right?”  

“The beach was chosen.”  

“Ooh.”  

She propped herself up on her elbows, resting her chin on her hands.  

“Hmm. I don’t really mind where we go, but I hope there are plenty of photo spots.”  

Ho-cheol spun his chair around to face her direction.  

“…Why?”  

Her statement seemed completely out of context, leaving Ho-cheol baffled.  

So-hee gave him a look, as if asking, ‘You seriously don’t know?’  

“Obviously because I’m coming along too.”  

Ho-cheol opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it again.  

She had a point. It was natural for her to join as both a supervisor and guardian.  

Even if it was just a short 2-night, 3-day trip to a remote island, her presence was to be expected.  

He stared at So-hee, who was now resting her chin in her hands, like a flower on display.  

“What?”  

Instead of answering, Ho-cheol let out a long sigh, clicking his tongue in frustration.  

No matter how precarious or deceptively peaceful the current era might be, true combat was reserved for a small handful of actual heroes.  

For a mere civil servant like So-hee, battle was a distant tale.  

But still…  

“Why are you sighing right in front of me like that…?”  

At least a year.  

So-hee would likely be by his side for at least a year as his assigned observer.  

However, the chain of events unfolding around him, as well as those yet to come, would be far too harsh for a mere civil servant to endure.  

Even if he tried his best to protect her, there were clear limits.  

In the end, the weakest link always bore the brunt of the damage.  

And in this case, So-hee was undoubtedly the weakest link.  

“Do you have any hidden powers or traits you’ve been keeping secret?”  

“That sounds like something out of a comic… If I did, I’d have used it to get promoted already.”  

“Fair enough.”  

Despite their relatively friendly relationship, which allowed him this level of freedom and authority, if So-hee were to get injured or worse, she’d likely be replaced by another agent.  

And there was no guarantee the new agent would be as personable as So-hee. Building a similar relationship from scratch would be an exhausting task.  

After a moment of contemplation, he asked her.  

“Do you have any desire to get stronger?”  

“Huh?”  

The unexpected question made So-hee blink in surprise.  

Strength was a foreign concept to her. As a clerical staff member with no combat-oriented traits, she had joined the association by barely meeting the basic physical fitness requirements.  

“Why do you ask all of a sudden?”  

“There’s no guarantee that what happened last time won’t happen again. More importantly…”  

The initial reasoning was just an excuse.  

His real motive was much simpler.  

“Who’d want to see someone close to them get hurt? Especially when I can’t always be there to protect you.”  

“Huh.”  

Her expression darkened as she recalled the previous attack.  

Her face turned bright red, flushed with both embarrassment and frustration.  

She sprang to her feet, clasping the back of her neck with both hands.  

Why did he have to be so honest?  

Even knowing there was no deeper meaning behind his words, her face felt like it was on fire.  

Unable to meet his gaze, she lowered her head and mumbled.  

“Can’t you just keep protecting me?”  

“I’ll try my best, but you know how unpredictable life can be.”  

“True, but still…”  

‘Get stronger.’  

She muttered the word “stronger” under her breath repeatedly.  

“But I don’t have a combat-oriented trait.”  

“Strength isn’t always relative. If you develop abilities better than your current self, that’s also a form of getting stronger.”  

Her energy-emission trait might not seem fit for combat, but that was a misconception. Properly honed, it could become quite formidable.  

She rubbed her now-normal-colored cheeks with the back of her hand and asked.  

“So, how exactly are you planning to help me get stronger?”  

“Well, there’s a session for trait enhancement during the MT schedule. I thought I’d let you join in and go through the program.”  

“Ah… Well, that doesn’t sound too bad. I don’t really have a reason to say no.”  

Would Ho-cheol really make her do anything too extreme? Probably not, but just in case, she cautiously asked.  

“If it gets too hard, can I stop?”  

“Of course. You’re just tagging along, after all.”  

“Fine, I’m in,” So-hee agreed without hesitation after getting a clear answer.  

“Great. I’ll include you in the program,” Ho-cheol said.  

“What kind of program?”  

“Something like beach running, maybe some hiking. We’ll also squeeze in some martial arts training.”  

Ho-cheol barely managed to suppress a grin as he turned back to his work.  

The odd number 43 had been bothering him, but with So-hee added, he could now incorporate a more diverse range of “training.”  

He could already see So-hee’s inevitable screams blending in with those of the students. But what could he do? It wasn’t as though he was deceiving her out of malice—this was entirely her responsibility for volunteering.  

Sure, he had mentioned she could back out midway, but in a group setting where accountability was shared, could she really be that brazen?  

Ding-dong!  

The doorbell rang as Ho-cheol was deep in drafting the program.  

“What’s that?” So-hee asked.  

“Delivery. I ordered coffee,” he replied.  

At his words, So-hee darted over to her phone, which was still plugged into the charger. Unlocking it, she let out an exasperated groan.  

“You used my card for coffee again! Argh! And what’s with this overpriced cake?”  

“Had to meet the delivery minimum.”  

“I don’t even eat cheesecake!”  

“I know. That’s why I got it.”  

“When did you even place the order!”  

Ignoring her protests, Ho-cheol opened the front door.  

A delivery person wearing a heavily tinted motorcycle helmet stood outside, holding a bag of drinks.  

For a brief moment, the delivery person flinched at the sight of Ho-cheol but silently handed over the bag.  

As soon as the bag changed hands, the delivery person turned to leave without a word.  

Leaning against the doorframe, Ho-cheol called out, “Stop right there.”  

The delivery person kept walking, pretending not to hear.  

Ho-cheol briefly debated before letting out a heavy sigh.  

The exhalation wasn’t just air—it was dense with meaning, far more expressive than words.  

Unable to withstand the mounting pressure, the delivery person halted in their tracks. Slowly, without being asked, they removed their helmet.  

Ho-cheol recognized her even before the helmet came off.  

The bright blond hair, freed from the stifling helmet, swayed gently.  

As the delivery person turned around, revealing Ye-jin, Ho-cheol sighed again, this time deeper.  

Her blond hair, tied back tightly, was disheveled, with a few stray strands clinging to her sweat-soaked forehead.  

Beads of sweat glistened on her face, catching the light on her nose bridge.  

In the awkward silence, she forced a smile and greeted him.  

“Ah, haha. Hi there.”  

No response came.  

Ho-cheol simply stared at her in the same posture as before. He had seen her working part-time at the café previously.  

But now she was doing deliveries too? Just how overworked was she?  

“You.”  

Of course, he couldn’t overlook the more pressing issue. If his memory served him right…  

“Do you even have a license?”  

Of course, she didn’t.  

Ye-jin swallowed nervously, her eyes darting side to side as she scrambled to come up with a plausible excuse.  

“Uh, well, you see… about that…”  

Ho-cheol shook his head.  

“Never mind. Just come in for a minute.”  

“Eh?”  

Ye-jin let out a dumbfounded noise.  

“You and I need to have a little chat.”  

He had been meaning to address this for a while, and now was as good a time as any.  

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Patron 105

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Celaime Mikardo, the master of the Blue Tower and an 8th-tier magician capable of wielding Origin, could not comprehend the current situation.  

“He opened it? How on earth?”  

He blinked his eyes, but the scene before him remained unchanged.  

Marquis Palatio had opened a door—one that had taken Celaime two full years of grueling effort to unlock—in less than 30 seconds. And now, the Marquis was walking through it.  

Still stunned, Celaime snapped back to his senses and tried to call out to the Marquis. However, by the time he gathered himself, the man had already crossed the first barrier and disappeared into the interior.  

Celaime hurried to the now-opened first barrier, inspecting it with disbelief.  

To the untrained eye, it appeared as just another wall, but Celaime, a magician of his level, understood what lay before him. He knew the incredible complexity required to open this seemingly ordinary passage.  

Only a magician of the 8th tier, like himself, could hope to dedicate the time and energy needed to unlock such a door. Yet there was something even more startling:  

“…The way it was opened… it’s exactly the same as how I did it.”  

The method Marquis Palatio had used to unlock the barrier was identical to the one Celaime had painstakingly discovered over the course of a year.  

“What… is going on?”  

Confusion and questions swirled in Celaime Mikardo’s mind. He turned to peer further into the passage Marquis Palatio had entered.  

While Celaime had always harbored some curiosity about the Marquis, the extent of his interest was limited. After all, the man was someone his arrogant disciple, Penia, admired—a man who still used outdated, primitive magic techniques.  

But meeting the Marquis in person had tempered Celaime’s curiosity.  

Sure, the rumors and Penia’s actions hinted that the Marquis might be someone extraordinary, but Celaime’s first impression of him didn’t align with such lofty expectations.  

‘His mana is low, his magical achievements barely scrape the 4th tier, and he hasn’t even awakened his inner eye. Even giving him credit for using primitive magic, he’s still below average.’  

The numerous flaws Celaime noticed made him regard the Marquis as an inferior magician, a junior lacking in potential.  

He even wondered, albeit briefly, what on earth Penia had seen in this man to inspire such fear and admiration.  

But these thoughts were fleeting. Celaime soon found himself trailing the Marquis, following him to the second barrier.  

And there, in front of the second barrier—the one even Celaime had yet to breach—stood the Marquis, seemingly lost in thought.  

Watching him, Celaime hesitated to speak. Instead, he decided to observe, curious about what the Marquis might do.  

The second barrier was something Celaime had never managed to open.  

In truth, he doubted whether it was even possible to unlock it.  

Like the first barrier, the second looked unremarkable at first glance. But to Celaime’s awakened eyes, it revealed itself as a labyrinth of thousands of intricately layered magic circles.  

Thousands upon thousands of complex and intertwined magical constructs—so convoluted that even Celaime had yet to fully grasp their entirety.  

Despite this complexity, Celaime’s keen intellect had already deduced the theoretical method to unlock it:  

“Find the key magic circle among the thousands.”  

However, he had not yet succeeded in identifying that key.  

If the barrier were a literal door, it would be one riddled with tens of thousands of keyholes.  

Testing each magic circle individually was practically impossible, as it required unraveling and interpreting thousands of intricately intertwined constructs—a task that would take decades, if not longer.  

Celaime, recalling this fact, felt a pang of despondence.  

And yet, Marquis Palatio—or rather, Alon—turned his head slightly, as if sensing Celaime’s interest.  

Of course, Alon had no real reason to pay attention to Celaime. Building a rapport with the master of the Blue Tower could be useful, but it wasn’t critical to his plans.  

Alon’s wariness stemmed instead from the peculiar expectation reflected in Celaime Mikardo’s eyes.  

Earlier, when Alon had opened the first barrier without much thought, Celaime had stared at him, mouth agape, his expression utterly incredulous.  

Now, Celaime was standing just a few paces away, watching him with childlike curiosity, as if waiting for him to perform another miracle.  

‘He said it took him a year to open the first door?’  

Alon didn’t think Celaime Mikardo was foolish.  

On the contrary, he found him monstrous.  

According to what Alon knew, the two barriers guarding this hermit’s sanctuary were said to be unsolvable by twelve 7th-tier magicians working together for half a year.  

For Celaime, an 8th-tier magician, to have unlocked the first barrier on his own was a testament to his extraordinary abilities.  

Precisely because of this, Alon found the man’s expectant gaze incredibly burdensome.  

Alon opened the gates to the Hermit’s Hideout… Simply because he knew the correct answers.  

‘The key to the first barrier lies in mana interference. Twist the straight mana flow into a half-circle, and it opens… The second barrier? The key is the fifth magic circle from the top-right diagonal corner.’  

With such knowledge, Alon could easily open the doors by merely channeling his mana. Yet, the palpable expectation radiating from Celaime behind him made it impossible for him to act without hesitation.  

If Alon were to effortlessly open the gate with a mere flow of mana, Celaime would inevitably realize a bitter truth—that the grueling year of research he had poured into the task had been utterly pointless.  

“Hmm…”  

Alon didn’t have to care about Celaime Mikardo’s emotions. But as someone who studied magic himself, he understood the crushing despair that would come with such a realization.  

‘…Should I just use some magic?’  

By the time Alon decided to offer Celaime a well-intentioned lie, Celaime, observing Alon’s hesitation, began to interpret it as a struggle.  

‘Perhaps the second barrier is more challenging for him, after all?’  

The flicker of expectation in Celaime’s eyes faded as he tried to temper his own hopes.  

And then, in that moment—  

“Hoo…”  

Marquis Palatio let out a small sigh and formed a seal with his hands.  

Celaime, intrigued, watched intently. Although he had heard that the Marquis used primitive magic, this was the first time he had seen it in practice.  

As he carefully observed Alon’s technique, he noticed the Marquis murmuring something faintly under his breath. Then, a small orb formed between Alon’s thumb and forefinger.  

Celaime felt it immediately.  

“What…?”  

A primal sense of danger surged through Celaime Mikardo. Instinctively, he furrowed his brow and began to gather mana to cast a defensive spell. His reaction was nearly instantaneous—a reflexive response.  

But then—  

“!”  

What Celaime saw stopped him in his tracks.  

Behind Alon, hovering in the air, were two enormous, unblinking eyes.  

Celaime’s thoughts froze—or rather, he forcibly stopped them.  

The moment he perceived those eyes, the moment they registered in his vision, he realized something undeniable:  

Understanding what lay before him would lead only to one possible outcome—death.  

The one thing Celaime couldn’t prepare for, however, was his own eyes.  

Having reached the 8th tier, his vision was honed to intuitively discern nearly anything it perceived. Unlike his mind, his eyes continued to analyze the phenomenon on instinct.  

And then, it began.  

The world around Celaime darkened.  

When his gaze finally focused, he saw it:  

A circular abyss—a void so profound it seemed to pull his very being into its depths.  

What followed was a flash of pale pupils within that darkness.  

The last thing he saw was—  

“Kugh…”  

—A massive eye.  

A colossal presence so overwhelming it reduced him to an insignificant speck.  

It was looking directly at him.  

‘I’m going to die.’  

The realization struck him, and for a brief, hollow moment, Celaime’s mind blanked.  

Then—  

KUGUGUGUGUNG!!!

A thunderous sound roared in his ears.  

“!”  

Snapping back to his senses, Celaime looked ahead.  

There it was.  

The second barrier, which had resisted all his efforts for over a year, was now slowly creaking open, the heavy door grinding against itself.  

Beyond the opening stood Marquis Palatio, looking back at him.  

His expression was devoid of emotion—utterly indifferent.  

“…Ha.”  

Seeing this, Celaime Mikardo let out a dry laugh, almost involuntarily.  

‘He’s been hiding his true power all along. That’s what it was…!’  

***

Even though it lasted less than a second, the mere act of witnessing it had left Celaime Mikardo’s mana in disarray and his hands trembling uncontrollably as he tried to cast his magic.  

And yet, he couldn’t stop laughing.  

Even with the shadow of death looming so close, his laughter refused to cease.  

It was his unrelenting curiosity that kept him going.  

The same insatiable drive that had elevated him to become the master of the Blue Tower and an 8th-tier magician.  

Now, that very curiosity was captivated by the overwhelming magical knowledge that Marquis Palatio clearly possessed, knowledge that surely concealed power far greater than what Celaime had just glimpsed.  

And so, Celaime laughed.  

Watching this reaction, Alon, the Marquis, couldn’t help but think:  

‘…Wait, is he actually enjoying this?’  

In the middle of using his magic, Alon had thought, ‘Surely, as an 8th-tier magician, Celaime Mikardo wouldn’t be fooled by something as superficial as this simple demonstration.’ 

Yet there he was—beaming radiantly, as though delighted beyond words. Alon found himself momentarily stunned by the unexpected sight.  

***

Having passed the second barrier, Alon finally stepped into the inner chamber of the Hermit’s Hideout.  

The interior was underwhelming—dimly lit, resembling the simple interior of a rustic, fantasy-style dwelling nestled within a cave.  

But Alon hadn’t come for the scenery. Without hesitation, he approached a desk tucked into the corner of the sanctuary.  

And there, he found what he sought.  

“Got it.”  

Unlike the dark bracelet he had obtained before, this time, the object was a bracelet painted pure white—the *White Hand of the Wanderer*. Alon placed it carefully into his belongings, allowing himself a brief smile.  

Then—  

“?”  

He noticed a piece of parchment on the desk, inscribed in an ancient language. Lowering his gaze, he read the text:  

—To the half-hearted magician who refused to compromise, who did not forget the forgotten words… I leave behind my legacy. 

Alon paused.  

The phrasing struck him as familiar—it was nearly identical to what he had encountered when acquiring the <Egg of the Shadow Dragon>.  

“Hmm…”  

After staring at the parchment for a while, Alon shrugged and set it back down.  

As he turned, his gaze fell upon Celaime Mikardo, who was still smiling—brightly, almost uncomfortably so.  

Slightly unnerved, Alon addressed him:  

“I’ve taken everything I needed. If there’s anything you want, Master of the Blue Tower, feel free to take it.”  

In truth, there was little of magical value left behind; no books or texts on magic were anywhere to be seen.  

“Is that so? Then I’ll graciously accept,” Celaime replied, walking toward the desk Alon had just vacated.  

There, he noticed the parchment Alon had briefly inspected. Picking it up, Celaime realized it was written in an ancient language he couldn’t read. Without a word, he quietly tucked it away.  

Under normal circumstances, he might have asked Alon about it. However, Celaime interpreted the Marquis’s act of leaving it behind as a subtle message—perhaps a silent request to let the matter rest.  

‘He likely wants me to keep this to myself.’  

Believing that questioning Alon would yield no answers, Celaime decided to take the parchment to the Master of the Red Tower, who was known for his expertise in deciphering ancient texts.  

Celaime’s thoughts drifted. Despite the parchment’s content, what he truly wanted was to converse with Alon about magic.  

His curiosity was not something that could simply be stifled.  

And so—  

‘…I’ll need to find a way to get closer to him.’  

As Celaime pondered how to bridge the gap, an idea struck him.  

“Ah, Penia!”  

Remembering his disciple, Celaime suddenly understood why the arrogant Penia had been so enamored with Marquis Palatio.  

It didn’t take long for him to devise a plan:  

‘Rather than remaining strangers, wouldn’t it be easier to get closer to him if he were my disciple’s husband?’  

Whether he was prioritizing his disciple or his own insatiable curiosity was unclear.  

But one thing was certain:  

‘I’ll make sure this works.’  

Filled with determination, Celaime looked at Alon with an intensity that could almost be described as fiery.  

***

“…Why do I feel uneasy?”  

Seeing Celaime’s expression shift into something oddly determined—his laughter now bordering on unsettling—Alon couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding.  

Something strange was brewing, and Alon could feel it.  

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Round 246

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There was definitely a point to it.

Nathan was none other than the Director of the U.S. 

Intelligence Agency!

In our country’s terms, that would be akin to being the head of the National Intelligence Service.

Given that, it wasn’t surprising for him to be connected to the mysterious figure who had blocked Ara’s Breath twice.

“Could he be a hidden agent of the U.S. Intelligence Agency?”

It was a plausible theory.

Perhaps they were some kind of veiled operative.

But there was one thing I couldn’t wrap my head around—why go out of their way to monitor me?

Sure, it made sense for them to gather information about me out of curiosity. After all, it’s the Intelligence Agency.

But if they were going to do it, they should’ve avoided getting caught!

“Uh, is there something wrong?” Nathan asked calmly.
Ara responded without hesitation.

“I found someone who was super fast, super tough, and super suspicious!”

Oh, Ara, you just couldn’t hold it in and spilled everything, huh?

I had planned to keep it under wraps, but it was too late now.

“Super fast, tough, and suspicious?”

Nathan still seemed clueless about what Ara was talking about.

Was he really unaware, or just pretending not to know?

‘He’s probably pretending.’

I trusted Ara’s instincts.

From the U.S. perspective, they wouldn’t want to stir up more trouble and would naturally deny any involvement.

The person who had clashed with Ara might have been secretly watching but had approached us with a surprisingly submissive attitude. I wasn’t looking to escalate the conflict either.

“When I was leaving the house, I encountered a stranger. They played with Ara for a bit.”

“I see.”

At that moment, Jeon Young-joo shot a meaningful glance my way.

It was clear she had already heard about the incident through the security team but chose to remain silent.

“We’ll check to see if that individual is one of ours. Apologies for the inconvenience.”

“No, not at all. It could’ve just been a misunderstanding on our part. We appreciate your understanding.”

The atmosphere was somewhat amicable as we all took our seats.

The conversation drifted toward the compensation discussed earlier with the department head. Nathan readily nodded without hesitation.

“Understood. We’ll prepare the item list. It won’t take long.”

“Wow.”

“And about the seeds Mr. Kyu-seong mentioned earlier, we’d like to ask for your cooperation on that matter as well.”

“Cooperation?”

Assistance related to plant seeds? What could that be about?

“As is the case in Korea, we in the U.S. are conducting various studies and surveys to understand the ecology emerging from dungeons. Plant research is particularly active, as these plants could serve as future alternative food sources.”

“I see.”

“We understand Mr. Kyu-seong possesses abilities related to plant growth. We’d like to propose a collaboration utilizing these abilities. Of course, any plants grown using your abilities would remain fully under your control.”

“Wow.”

In short, they were offering unlimited access to various plants in exchange for shared research data.

Given that I was currently the only person capable of cultivating plants in dungeons, this wasn’t a bad deal.

Besides, sharing the data didn’t guarantee they’d be able to grow the plants themselves.

‘It doesn’t really matter to me.’

Even if the U.S. succeeded in growing plants, it wouldn’t pose an issue.

My goal wasn’t to monopolize everything but to live happily with the kids in my dungeon.

If others capable of growing plants emerged, it would be more of a mutual benefit than competition.

“Sounds good. Let’s give it a try.”

“Mr. Kyu-seong, would it be alright if we cautiously joined this collaboration as well?”

“Of course. You two can discuss whether to share information directly or only collaborate with me individually.”

“Understood.”

With that, the meeting wrapped up, leaving the rest to the negotiations between Jeon Young-joo and Nathan.

It was refreshing to watch the higher-ups engage in a one-on-one discussion.

I simply observed their conversation with Ara until it concluded.

“Thank you for your efforts today. Would it be possible to provide the item list tomorrow?”

“Yes, let’s meet tomorrow as well.”

“Understood. Thank you. And…”

Once Jeon Young-joo was out of sight, Nathan spoke with a slightly apologetic expression.

“About what happened this morning, I must apologize. That individual is someone we cannot easily handle, so we had to feign ignorance.”

Ah, so he was talking about the person who had clashed with Ara.

But they weren’t a member of the Intelligence Agency?

‘Someone even the Intelligence Agency can’t handle? Who on earth could they be?’

I nodded in agreement and replied that I understood. Next to me, Ara cautiously asked,

“Is that person suspicious?”

“Hmm, you could say he’s suspicious… but he’s not a bad person.”

“A suspicious person, but not bad?” Ara tilted her head, visibly confused and unsure of what to make of it.

“Would it be alright if I personally introduce him to you?”

“Huh? To someone we don’t even know?”

“Oh! He wouldn’t harm you! There’s no way something like that could happen in my presence!”

Just then, Jeon Young-joo, the department head, approached. Nathan quickly composed himself and extended a handshake to me as though nothing had happened.

“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Kyu-seong.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow.”

But who could that person be for Nathan, the almighty Director of the U.S. Intelligence Agency, to behave like this?

‘Someone even the Director of the Intelligence Agency can’t treat lightly? And he’s deliberately keeping his identity hidden?’

This had an unmistakably suspicious yet thrilling aura about it!

***

Meanwhile, Kyler wasn’t about to repeat the same mistake. Although he had learned from Nathan that Kyu-seong was at the Awakening Headquarters, this time, he didn’t spy from a distance.

Instead, he opted for a direct approach.

He informed Nathan about his intention to meet Kyu-seong and boldly approached his car.

“There! That suspicious person from earlier!” Ara exclaimed, recognizing Kyler immediately.

Kyu-seong turned to him with a look of disbelief.

“Wait, what?”

Having never expected such a bold entrance, Kyu-seong was at a loss to comprehend the situation.

“I must apologize for my behavior earlier,” Kyler began, striking up a conversation out of the blue.

Still flustered, Kyu-seong couldn’t respond. Ara stepped in instead.

“Hmm! Hmm! Suspicious actions are not allowed. Why did you act so suspiciously?”

“I was in a situation where being discovered would’ve caused trouble, so I watched from afar. I didn’t mean to raise suspicion. Can you forgive me?”

“Hmmm! What do you think, Lee Kyu-seong, Kyu-seong?” Ara’s question jolted Kyu-seong back to reality. Caught off guard, he nodded hesitantly.

“Uh… Yes, yes.”

“You seem quite overwhelmed. I’ll leave for now since I came to clear up any misunderstandings. I hope to see you again.”

“Ah, um, could I at least get your name…?”

Kyler hesitated briefly at Kyu-seong’s question before responding.

After all, keeping his identity secret from someone who might end up being an ally could only worsen their first impression.

“I’m Kyler Lucas.”

“Kyler Lucas?”

“Well then, see you around.”

Kyler vanished like the wind, leaving Kyu-seong staring blankly after him. In the distance, Nathan came running frantically.

“Hah… hah… Mr. Kyu-seong! Did someone just come by?!”

“Huh? Uh…”

“Kyler Lucas was here!” Ara answered cheerfully.

Nathan’s face turned pale as he clutched his head in despair.

“Why is he acting on his own again?! Ugh!”

“Who is he?” Kyu-seong asked, still trying to process everything. Then, after a moment of reflection, the name clicked.

Kyler? Kyler… Wait, Kyler?!

It finally hit him—the name he never expected to encounter in his own life.

“What?!”

Nathan sighed, realizing he didn’t need to explain further.

“So, you’ve figured it out.”

“But why does he look East Asian? Was he East Asian all along?”

“He’s likely in disguise.”

Nathan let out another sigh, his tone resigned.

“Mr. Kyu-seong, could you please keep Kyler’s presence here a secret?”

“Huh?”

“Kyler is currently being pursued in multiple places. If it becomes known that he’s here, this place will turn into chaos in no time.”

“Ah, understood.”

It felt like stepping into a scene from a noir spy movie. Still, Kyler Lucas? His unexpected appearance was completely out of left field.

“…Wait a second, does that mean…?”

Kyler Lucas was a Level 9 Awakener.

Yet Ara hadn’t been overwhelmed by him?

Of course, since Kyler hadn’t come to fight, it was hard to gauge precisely, but still…

‘To be fair, Ara didn’t use her full-strength Breath either.’

The scene he arrived to witness was Kyler looking distinctly troubled, with an air of awkwardness. Anyone could tell he’d been on the back foot against Ara.

“Gulp.”

Kyu-seong glanced down at Ara for a moment.

Ara, oblivious, was eyeing Nathan’s hair with a strangely hungry look.

“Mmm… tempting…”

As Kyu-seong was sorting through his thoughts, Nathan cautiously spoke.

“Would you be available tomorrow evening?”

“Tomorrow evening?”

“Yes. Considering the situation, it seems safest to have a quick conversation and then get him out of Korea as soon as possible.”

 “Why does he want to talk to me?”

“…”

Nathan hesitated, seemingly unsure if he should share the reason himself.

Seeing this, Kyu-seong decided it would be better to hear it directly from Kyler.

“Alright, let’s meet tomorrow evening. Where should we meet?”

“Wherever is most convenient for you.”

After a moment of thought, Kyu-seong decided to meet near his home, since the situation had already escalated this far. He also planned to keep Mammon and Ras on standby, ready to intervene at any moment if needed.

Even a Level 9 Awakener wouldn’t dare make a move against him under such circumstances.

“Since you already know where I live, let’s meet there.

“Cough! Understood. I’ll relay that.”

What a fascinating turn of events.

That the Intelligence Director was in contact with Kyler Lucas, the so-called “Wanderer,” exchanging information like this!

‘No, wait! This is exactly what being an Intelligence Director is about!’

FBI! CSI!

So all those things from movies and American dramas were true!

Mistakenly, Kyu-seong thought the U.S. Intelligence Agency was actively tracking Kyler Lucas, the veiled Level 9 Awakener.

“Oh, by the way, Director.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Just out of curiosity… do you know anything about the Seven Deadly Sins?”

“The Seven Deadly Sins? If you’re referring to the Dungeon of Lust in the U.S., then yes, I’m familiar with it. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve taken an interest in it. It seems likely that, unlike ordinary dungeons, it could harbor unique vegetation.”

“Hm, that’s quite timely. The person you’re meeting tomorrow evening is very knowledgeable on that topic.”

“That person?”

Kyler knows about the Seven Deadly Sins?

Now Kyu-seong had an undeniable reason to meet him.

Prev | TOC | Next


Round 245

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“Is it a suspicious person?”

Ara mumbled suddenly, staring off in one direction. Her eyes glimmered with a peculiar light—it seemed like she had activated the Third Eye.

“What? Did you find something again?”

Could it really be another attack, so soon after what just happened? I was about to develop a neurosis from all these ambushes.

“Someone is watching us from afar! It’s a foreigner!”

“A foreigner? That’s suspicious!”

Ara, pointing out specifically that it was a foreigner, sounded confident.

It was indeed odd. Even if the government had secretly stationed guards around my house, would they include foreigners?

‘No way…’

If anything, they would have organized the guards entirely with Korean personnel to prepare for any contingencies.

Yet here we were, with a foreigner covertly observing me. It was undeniably strange.

“They noticed I’m watching! They’re trying to run!”

“Hey! Let’s chase them!”

“Chasing them now!”

Whoosh!

Ara disappeared like the wind.

Wait, isn’t she too fast, Ara?!

I thought the “someone watching from afar” meant somewhere within the nearby forest beside the dungeon. But soon enough, I was stunned by a bright blue beam firing from afar.

“Breath attack!!”

Ara was using a breath attack?!

And that far away? Just how far away had the observer been, and how had Ara noticed and reached them so quickly?

Roarrr!!

“A second one!”

She was unleashing a second breath attack.

This was the first time I had seen Ara use breath attacks consecutively. The opponent must have been formidable for her to respond this way. I debated whether I should return to the dungeon to call for reinforcements.

‘Ara might be in danger!’

But in the end, I decided to run as fast as I could.

There was no way I could leave Ara alone and head back to the dungeon.

“Ara!”

Contrary to the visible breath attacks, Ara’s location was farther away than I had anticipated—so far that I would have to cross a whole mountain.

Thankfully, my upgraded body capabilities as a second-level awakened helped me endure, but I couldn’t seem to close the gap.

‘Please… hang in there!’

After running for what felt like forever, I finally reached Ara’s location.

There, a suspicious figure stood with both hands raised in surrender, speaking Korean:

“I have no intention of fighting. I surrender.”

The fluency of his Korean was unbelievable for a foreigner.

His appearance was also distinctly East Asian.

“Ara!”

“Kyu-seong Kyu-seong ! I made the suspicious person surrender!”

Ara proclaimed proudly.

The area was still hot from her breath attacks.

Thankfully, Ara seemed unharmed as I spun her around to make sure. Then I turned to the stranger.

“Who are you? Why were you watching me?”

“My apologies.”

The stranger bowed deeply, then suddenly looked in another direction.

Ara also turned to look and spoke to me.

“More people are coming!”

“People?”

The man who had taken two of Ara’s breath attacks and was still unharmed bowed again and apologized.

“My apologies.”

“Wait, don’t just say sorry—”

“I will visit you again later.”

“What?”

And with that, the man disappeared in an instant.

As I stood there stunned by his incredible speed, I began to sense people approaching from nearby.

“Awakened Kyu-seong! Are you alright?”

“Where are you?”

“Over there! That must be him!”

A group of about ten people had arrived.

I didn’t know who they were, but I had a good guess.

‘They assigned guards to me.’

A headache started to build as I wondered how to explain everything.

“Kyu-seong Kyu-seong !”

“Huh?”

“I deliberately used weak breath attacks! Did I do well?”

“Uh… yeah, you did great.”

“The opponent was so sturdy! Amazing. Oooooh.”

Ara wriggled excitedly, marveling at her own feat.

When I thought about it, it really was amazing.

How on earth did someone withstand Ara’s breath attacks, even if she fired them lightly, not once but twice?

***

Kyler had hurriedly fled the scene.

If it weren’t for the approaching crowd, he might have been able to clear up the misunderstanding, which was a bit regrettable.

Hissss-

The part of his body struck by Ara’s attack was regenerating.

Even so, Kyler couldn’t help but be amazed.

“To think something could injure my body.”

Kyler Lucas.

Known by the moniker “Level 9 Awakened,” his title stemmed from one overpowered ability—Adaptation.

His adaptive ability was a growth-based skill. At first, Kyler was no different from any other Level 1 Awakened individual.

But as he began to adapt to everything around him, his body became stronger the more hardships he endured, and the greater the damage he suffered, the more his resilience grew.

Now, Kyler possessed a body with an incredible durability that rendered most attacks ineffective.

To sustain an injury on such a body—for the first time in years, no less—was shocking. Though, of course, even that wound was rapidly healing thanks to his adaptive ability.

“I’m even more curious now.”

What exactly was that familiar?

Not only was it faster than Kyler—a Level 9 Awakened—but it also managed to wound his body, which had become harder than diamond through adaptation.

And then there was Lee Kyu-seong, who commanded such a familiar. Kyler couldn’t wrap his head around him either.

The only thing Kyler was certain of was this:

Under no circumstances could he afford to turn Lee Kyu-seong into an enemy.

“This is no ordinary situation.”

Determined to meet Kyu-seong again, Kyler resolved to approach him with goodwill next time, rather than observing from the shadows.

***

After the chaos with the security personnel finally subsided, I headed to the Awakening Headquarters.

Coincidentally, a message had arrived regarding a matter related to the United States.

For now, I decided to keep the incident between Ara and the suspicious figure under wraps. Revealing it might expose Ara’s abilities, and I wanted to tread carefully.

“Hello, Director.”

“Ah, welcome, Kyu-seong. Please, have a seat. Ara, would you like some hot chocolate?”

“Yes! Ara wants hot chocolate!”

Soon, the director personally prepared three cups of hot chocolate.

I added some crushed dried strawberries on top.

“Wow, this is fancy hot chocolate.”

“It really is.”

As I savored the drink, I mused aloud about the idea of growing my own cacao someday and making chocolate from scratch.

Then Jeon Young-joo spoke up.

“We received a message from the United States.”

“Oh? What about?”

“They want to offer direct compensation. They’ve asked if you have any specific requests.”

Direct compensation… specific requests…

It was a tricky matter.

There was one thing I wanted: access to the Dungeon of Lust, one of the Seven Deadly Sins dungeons located in the U.S.

The problem, however, was that even if I secured entry, suspicion would inevitably arise if the monsters disappeared after I went in.

The ideal scenario would be sneaking in and out unnoticed, but that seemed impossible.

“It’s hard to decide on something immediately.”

“Hmm, in your case, material compensation wouldn’t mean much.”

Most others would have simply taken a massive payout for damages and left it at that. But I didn’t need money.

Rather, I didn’t need such an excessive amount.

My current income was already more than I could manage—likely surpassing that of a famous celebrity. I had so much money sitting idle in the bank that a massive compensation sum would be meaningless.

“Hmm, would it be possible to request seeds as compensation?”

“Seeds…?”

Jeon Young-joo blinked in surprise at the unusual request but carefully repeated it back.

I nodded slightly and elaborated.

“Not just ordinary seeds. Rare or unique ones. For instance, unusual plants found in dungeons or seeds from plants that are restricted for export overseas.”

Jeon Young-joo pondered for a moment, then cautiously jotted down notes.

“Is there anything else? The U.S. is a powerhouse when it comes to Awakening items. If you have any specific artifacts or items in mind, they could likely provide them as compensation.”

“Could you get me a list of items they can offer?”

“I’ll inquire about it.”

The rest of the meeting turned into casual chit-chat and tea time.

It turned out I didn’t have much else to do, making the day unexpectedly relaxing.

“At least I don’t have to go around being interrogated this time.”

“Ha… hahaha…”

Jeon Young-joo let out an awkward laugh, then added with a slightly apologetic expression:

“You’re essentially a VIP in Korea now, Mr. Kyu-seong. Honestly, you’re treated more importantly than most Level 8 Awakened individuals.”

“Excuse me?”

“Actually, I was planning to tell you later, but we’re preparing to classify you as an Unclassified Rank.“

Unclassified Rank. It sounded similar to the idea of a Level 9.

While the title of Level 9 symbolized power exceeding the Level 8, the Unclassified Rank was a designation reserved for Awakened individuals with abilities so unique or exceptional that they couldn’t be categorized by conventional ranks.

As far as I knew, there were no Unclassified Rank Awakened in Korea. The title required approval from the International Awakened Federation (IAF), which meant the process was highly credible and rigorous.

“So… if I get the Unclassified Rank, I’ll be the first in Korea?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Of course, the designation still needs to be approved, but if it goes through, it will significantly reduce the number of unpleasant incidents directed at you. No one would dare oppose the International Awakened Federation, after all.”

Even the most ruthless organizations couldn’t ignore the IAF. While they might clash with powerful nations like the United States, they wouldn’t dare provoke the Federation.

That’s how influential the Unclassified Rank was—its prestige and authority were immense.

Of course, it was equally difficult to obtain approval.

“Unclassified Rank!”

Ara’s eyes sparkled as she held out her cup for more hot chocolate. As Director Jeon Young-joo prepared another cup for her, Ara sipped it and asked:

“……What is Unclassified Rank?”

“Uh… it means someone so extraordinary that they can’t be judged by normal standards.”

“Ooooh! Lee Kyu-seong is extraordinary! He’s Unclassified Rank!”

Ara cheered enthusiastically, even though she clearly didn’t fully understand. Her confidence in me made me laugh.

“In reality, the true Unclassified Rank here is you, Ara.”

“Ooooh! I’m Unclassified Rank too!”

Knock, knock, knock.

Just then, there was a knock at the office door.

When Jeon Young-joo called for them to enter, a subordinate informed him that Nathan had arrived.

“Nathan? As in the director of the Intelligence Bureau? He’s still in Korea?”

“He left but came back. This works out well; as the U.S. Intelligence Director, he should have a general idea of the items the U.S. possesses. We’ll check with him.”

Jeon Young-joo instructed his subordinate to bring Nathan in. Soon, the familiar middle-aged man with blonde hair entered the room.

“Ma-tang!”

“Hi.”

Nathan greeted us with a cheerful smile. He looked like an ordinary neighborhood dad, which made it hard to believe he was the director of the Intelligence Bureau.

“I brought a translation item today,” Nathan announced proudly. He glanced at me and Ara, smiling.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been good! And you, Ma-tang?”

“Haha, I’ve been doing well, too.”

As Ara and Nathan exchanged friendly greetings, Ara suddenly tilted her head in confusion.

“What’s wrong, Ara?”

“Something’s strange.”

“Strange? What is?”

“I can sense that person from before!”

“That person from before?”

Who could she be talking about?

Then it hit me—the suspicious man we encountered outside the house. The man who withstood Ara’s breath attack.

Why would Ara sense him now? Could it be that he’s here?!

“Ma-tang! Did you come with someone?”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but no.”

Could that man possibly be someone Nathan knows?

Prev | TOC | Next


Patron 104

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The day after Alon returned from the ruins of Malacca.  

“It’s really pitch black.”  

“Yeah.”  

“And inside this, there’s that dragon thing or whatever, right?”  

“Yeah.”  

“Then when is it going to hatch?”  

“Hmm…”  

Evan’s question left Alon silent. Naturally, even he didn’t know when the Shadow Dragon would be born.  

‘If only it had shown up in the game, I might have some clue.’  

Even after playing <Psychedelia> for an exceptionally long time and exploring every corner of its world, Alon had never seen or heard of the Shadow Dragon. In other words, he had zero knowledge about it.  

“…Think the information guild would know anything?”  

“Hmm… I doubt it. That’s not really their area of expertise.”  

“Really?”  

“Well, they deal with current rumors and worldly affairs, not ancient lore like this. Unless, of course, it’s somehow tied to ongoing rumors.”  

Alon considered Evan’s words, then let out a small exclamation.  

“Ah.”  

“Did you think of something?”  

Alon nodded.  

“Yeah. Someone just came to mind.”  

“Who?”  

“R…ine.”  

“…Rine?”  

Evan looked puzzled, but Alon, who knew about the Eternal Library, thought to himself:  

‘Could Rine know something?’  

He was well aware that most “information” not barred by her knowledge restrictions was stored in her mind.  

‘I should pay her a visit.’  

Soon, he stood up.  

“Uh… Marquess? Where are you going?”  

“To the next destination.”  

“What? We’ve only been back from the ruins for a day! Wouldn’t it be better to rest a bit?”  

Evan was understandably surprised, having seen Alon exhaust himself considerably. But Alon was firm.  

“No, I plan to finish the itinerary as quickly as possible.”  

“Why?”  

“Because I want to rest. This place is way too humid.”  

“Ah…”  

Evan nodded in agreement.  

“That’s true. You really dislike humid places, don’t you?”  

“Yeah. It’s too uncomfortable to rest here.”  

Evan gave him a quizzical look, as if asking, ‘Is it really that bad?’ But Alon was completely serious.  

‘I can’t rest here at all.’  

Alon wasn’t particularly picky about accommodations. During his earlier travels, he’d camped out frequently and had no complaints about enduring deserts or even the bustling port cities. But humidity was his nemesis.  

‘I need to wrap this up quickly and get out of the jungle.’  

Resolving to leave as soon as possible, Alon rose from his seat. Around that time—  

“Marquess, are you in?”  

“…Liyan?”  

“Yes, sir.”  

Liyan had come looking for Alon.  

“Did you sleep well?”  

“Yes, thanks to you.”  

Liyan glanced away, smiling awkwardly. Alon asked:  

“So, what’s the matter?”  

“Well, uh… I just came to let you know I’m heading back.”  

“…Already?”  

“Yes. Considering what happened yesterday, it seems best to leave now.”  

Indeed, it would’ve been too much to continue the expedition. Alon nodded, signaling his understanding.  

“…That makes sense.”  

“There’s also been some strange activity near the Magic Tower this time.”  

“Strange activity?”  

“Yes, which is why I need to return to the tower quickly.”  

“Understood. Then, let’s meet again sometime.”  

At Alon’s parting words, Liyan’s face brightened.  

“Yes, I’d really like that. Oh, and next time, would you like to have a meal together?”  

“A meal?”  

“Yes, since you saved my life, I’d like to treat you.”  

After a moment of thought, Alon nodded in agreement.  

“If that’s the case, then alright.”  

“Then please make sure to visit the Red Tower sometime!”  

“I will.”  

Liyan bowed deeply, then turned and left. Watching her go, Evan spoke up.  

“She seems much friendlier than before.”  

“Does she?”  

“Yes. It’s probably because of your impressive magic.”  

“That topic again?”  

“It’s not just a topic—it really left an impact. That’s all I’m saying.”  

Alon let a quiet smirk slip past his stoic expression at Evan’s remark.  

“Let’s go with that.”  

With that, Alon resumed preparing to leave, a stray thought crossing his mind:  

‘Was it really that impressive?’  

Having finished his preparations, Alon left Evan behind and headed alone to the Hermit’s Hideout to protect the recently discovered dragon egg. Evan, having been tasked to guard the egg, eagerly nodded with a grin, clearly ready for the job. Alon chuckled softly at the sight before heading northeast toward the Selvanus Zone.  

The Selvanus Zone was notoriously dangerous, home to mutated monsters of all kinds. Normally, Alon wouldn’t dare enter such a place alone. However, he felt secure thanks to a unique blessing: Imariana’s Blessing.  

Reaching the massive statue marking the border of the zone, Alon observed the moss-covered figure resembling an unnamed goddess. Approaching the statue, he clasped his hands together and bowed his head.  

After about five seconds, he spoke:  

“Great goddess Imariana, grant me the sight to navigate this zone. In return, I shall offer what belongs to you.”  

As he finished, a faint light emanated from the moss-covered statue, gradually flowing into Alon. A satisfied smile spread across his face.  

With Imariana’s Blessing, the Selvanus Zone no longer posed any danger to him. Unless he attacked first, the monsters would not perceive him, allowing him to wander the forest freely. The blessing came with a condition, though: he had to collect scattered relics in the forest and offer them as tribute.  

‘It’s not a difficult penalty. I can just retrieve a few items from the Hermit’s Hideout.’ 

According to lore, all items in the Selvanus Zone were considered lost possessions of the goddess. Relaxed, Alon began his journey into the zone, though a stray thought about Deus briefly crossed his mind.  

‘Now that I think about it, Deus didn’t return yesterday. I hope he’s alright.’  

He dismissed the worry with a shake of his head.  

‘Deus wouldn’t die here—not in a place like this. He could defeat a Swordmaster like it was nothing, after all.’  

Only if Deus ventured into the domain of the Hundred Ghosts would there be any risk, and Alon was certain he hadn’t gone that far.  

Reassured, Alon continued his trek northeast. After some time, he noticed an unusually massive tree in the Selvanus Zone, its twin trunks twisting together to form a towering figure.  

‘From here, head directly to the right.’  

Following his mental map, he veered right and walked leisurely for a while. Eventually, he realized he was nearing his destination. However, the sight that greeted him left him stunned.  

Piles of monster corpses, stacked as high as the massive trees, surrounded the Hermit’s Hideout.  

These were no ordinary creatures; they included enormous lizard-like beasts capable of devastating entire villages and other rare, highly dangerous mutations.  

While Alon stared in disbelief, a voice called out.  

“Ah?”  

Turning toward the sound, he saw a middle-aged man clad in an incongruously bright blue robe, his presence starkly out of place in the jungle.  

The man smiled, his expression devoid of hostility, as he addressed Alon.  

“Entering a forest like this alone? You must have a lot of confidence in your skills.”  

“…Is this your doing?” Alon asked cautiously.  

“Indeed,” the man replied casually. “I wanted to conduct a leisurely investigation, but these mutated monsters wouldn’t stop bothering me.”  

The middle-aged man glanced at the pile of corpses and spoke casually.  

“Setting it up like this keeps everything away—except bugs.”  

Alon instinctively realized that the man wasn’t ordinary and spoke up.  

“May I ask your name?”  

“Celaime Mikardo.”  

“…Celaime Mikardo…?”  

Muttering the name to himself, Alon soon dropped his stoic expression, his mouth slightly agape.  

“…The Tower Master of the Blue Tower…?”  

“That’s my title, though my disciple handles most of the work these days,” Celaime said with a hearty laugh, one that seemed almost too jovial for his age.  

He then turned his attention to Alon.  

“So, who are you?”  

“Forgive my late introduction. I am Alon Palatio.”  

“…Alon Palatio? …The Marquess of Palatio?”  

“Yes, that’s correct.”  

Hearing this, Celaime’s smile grew even brighter—like a child discovering a new toy.  

Alon, for reasons he couldn’t quite place, felt a chill run down his spine.  

Soon after, amidst an oddly cordial atmosphere, their conversation continued.  

“By the way, what brings you here?”  

“I have some business in that place,” Alon replied, pointing.  

“…That place? The Hermit’s Hideout?”  

“Yes.”  

“Interesting.”  

Celaime seemed amused and pressed further.  

“So, you’re here to explore?”  

“…Not exactly. I’m here for something inside.”  

“Something inside?”  

Alon’s response left Celaime slightly puzzled.  

“So, you mean you’re not here to study it but to take something from within?”  

“Yes.”  

“Hmm.”  

After a brief moment of thought, Celaime finally spoke again.  

“Well, given that you wield primal-level magic, it’s not surprising that you’d be interested in what’s inside. May I offer you some advice?”  

“Please do.”  

“Turn back now. It’ll save you a lot of trouble,” Celaime said firmly.  

His tone wasn’t condescending. Celaime respected all mages by principle. His warning was based on his firsthand knowledge of just how absurdly well-guarded the Hermit’s Hideout was.  

‘The base enchantment is a triple-layered spell, and to even enter, you have to reverse-engineer all the magic seals. That’s just to clear the first barrier.’  

It had taken Celaime himself an entire year just to open the first gate and reach the second. That was why he felt compelled to warn Alon.  

“It took me a year to open just the first gate,” Celaime added.  

“Even so, I’d like to give it a try.”  

“Well, I won’t stop you.”  

Though slightly annoyed that his sincere advice was disregarded, Celaime couldn’t help but feel a lingering fondness for Alon.  

After all, to Celaime, a true mage was one who explored and sought knowledge.  

Those who merely relied on academic circles and secondhand reports were not true mages in his eyes.  

‘He’s different from the younger mages these days.’  

With this perspective, Celaime decided to cheer on Alon as though watching a promising younger colleague face a challenge he himself had barely overcome.  

Roughly thirty seconds later…  

RRRRRRUMBLE!!!  

With a loud, grinding noise, the first gate of the Hermit’s Hideout began to open.  

“…What?”  

Celaime’s jaw dropped in astonishment. 

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Round 244

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From the early morning, I escorted Mammon and Ras to Gnoll Village, checked the fields, and returned, only to find Ara and Cheong stirring awake in a daze.

As I cautiously observed them from the doorway, Ara lifted the whining Cheong to his feet.

“We need to wash our face…”

Ara, her eyes still half-closed from sleep, mumbled as she spoke. Yet, a faint smile lingered at the corners of her lips, refusing to fade.

Taking the stumbling Cheong by the hand, Ara headed somewhere. Curious about their destination, I quietly trailed behind them.

Step by step.

The place Ara brought Cheong to was a familiar stream where I often bathed Ara. It was just nearby, and soon, Ara splashed water onto Cheong’s face with her clumsy hands.

“It’s cold.”

“It wakes you right up!”

Splash splash.

At Ara’s remark, Cheong, who had obediently let Ara wash his face, cautiously began splashing water with his hands.

“Your clothes are getting all wet!”

“They’re wet!”

Cheong repeated cheerfully with a bright smile. Ara, looking flustered and unsure of what to do, seemed a bit troubled.

‘They’re already soaked, Ara.’

Thanks to Ara’s inexperienced hands, Cheong’s clothes were already drenched, even if he hadn’t splashed around.

In the end, Ara and Cheong finished their face-washing session, which had turned into an impromptu shower, soaking each other thoroughly.

“Finished washing up?”

“Kyu-seong Kyu-seong ! Where have you been?”

“Daddy! You’re here? I’m happy!”

Their previously worried faces brightened the moment they saw me. Cheong seemed overjoyed just to see me and greeted me with a beaming expression despite looking like a wet little mouse.

“You’ll need to change your clothes,” I said, smiling at their endearing sight.

“Okay!”

I took both children and helped them change into dry clothes.

By the time we were done, Seon-ah, who had just woken up, waved warmly at the now dry and fresh-looking kids.

“Did you sleep well, kids?”

“We slept well! I washed Cheong’s face!”

“Oh wow, really? Our Ara is such a great big sister.”

“I am Cheong’s big sister!”

For some reason, Ara seemed much more protective and caring towards Cheong than she had been with Soo. Was it because they shared a similar appearance? Or because they were both slimes?

‘Maybe it’s because they’ve known each other before.’

Though the kids seemed unaware, it might be that a faint trace of their past connection subconsciously drew them closer together.

I entrusted Seon-ah with drying the children’s hair and prepared a simple breakfast.

Breakfast was a salad, requiring little effort to make. But since the ingredients were top-notch, no one had any complaints about eating it.

Crunch crunch.

The kids ate happily, munching away.

Around that time, the sleepiest member of the group, Frey, finally stirred, glancing around as if lost.

-Where am I? Who am I?

“Good morning, Frey,” I greeted.

“-Oh, it’s the Grand Lord. Why is he here?”

Still groggy, Frey barely managed to acknowledge me as I handed her a glass of juice made from freshly pressed strawberries and Layla.

“Drink this and clear your head.”

“-Oh, juice from the Grand Lord? This must be delicious.”

Frey sipped at the juice slowly, her dazed movements almost comical. The strong sweetness seemed to help her gradually regain her senses.

“Seon-ah, can you keep an eye on Cheong for me?”

“Sure, but why suddenly?”

“I need to step outside. I think I might have some messages waiting for me.”

The dungeon was peaceful, but the outside world was still in chaos due to the mercenary attacks targeting me. While I could enjoy a leisurely life here, the members of my guild were working tirelessly to manage everything.

‘My heartfelt thanks to our guild.’

I was truly glad to have joined them.

Having spent almost two days at Hanul hyung’s house and the dungeon, it felt like it was time to check in with the guild or the Awakening Headquarters.

“Are you just taking Ara with you?”

“Yeah. Cheong is still…”

Hearing her name, Cheong tilted his head curiously. While we hadn’t even explored the entire dungeon yet, I was hesitant to take him outside already. He was easily frightened, and though his abilities were formidable, I felt it was better to wait until he had adjusted more.

“Since he looks human, unlike Mammon or Ras, it should be fine to take him outside eventually. But he needs to adapt first.”

“Exactly. That’s why I’ll just take Ara for now.”

After finishing a simple(?) breakfast equivalent to what thirty normal people might eat, I began preparing to head out with Ara.

“Hmmm.”

Ara, who had been trying on different hats, let out a vague hum.

“Ara, what’s wrong?”

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

Though she denied it, I could sense her worry. Acting clearly wasn’t her strong suit.

“Are you worried about Cheong?”

“Yeah! Ah, I mean no! Not at all!”

She blurted out her feelings but quickly shook her head in denial. Finding her adorable, I hugged her tightly.

“Why are you hugging me?”

“Because my Ara is just too cute.”

“I am cute!”

She quickly grew confident, striking a pose like an impassioned speaker declaring her ambitions. Her proud declaration of being cute was both endearing and amusing.

“Don’t worry about Cheong. Seon-ah and the others will take good care of him.”

“Cheong’s a crybaby! If his big sister disappears, he’ll definitely cry again!”

“You’re right. But don’t you think taking him outside might scare him even more?”

“Hm, that makes sense.”

Leaving Ara behind was an option, but honestly, I needed at least one bodyguard. While I considered taking Ras or Mammon instead, both were unregistered familiars, which could cause complications.

‘I’ll have to register them eventually.’

Then again, maybe this was a good chance to take them along and handle their registration. But that presented its own risks.

Both Ras and Mammon were part of the Seven Deadly Sins, the boss monsters of a Level 9 dungeon. Registering them might expose their true identities, which would undoubtedly cause a huge uproar.

‘Taking Ara feels like the safest option for now.’

Finally choosing a hat, Ara marched over to Cheong with a determined stride.

“I’ll be back soon!”

“Sis, where are you going?”

“I’m going out! It’s an important mission!”

Cheong’s clear eyes immediately welled up with tears, ready to spill at the slightest nudge.

“Is Daddy going too?”

“Huh? Oh, yes. I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, play with Seon-ah, or maybe go to the fairy village with Frey.”

“Sniff… I’m sad.”

Cheong eventually burst into tears. Seon-ah hurried over to comfort him.

“Oh dear, our Cheong is so sad. Want to play together with this sis, huh?”

“It’s not ‘sis,’ it’s ‘aunt,’ right?”

“Quiet.”

Ignoring Seon-ah’s sharp glare, I patted Cheong on the head.

“If you don’t cry and behave, when we come back, we’ll do something really fun together. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Seeing Cheong bravely stop crying, I couldn’t help but feel he seemed more like a human child than Ara had at that age. While Ara was wild and carefree, Cheong had a charm that made it hard to look away.

“Little sibling! Be good while I’m gone! Your big sister will accomplish something amazing, so wait patiently!”

“Yes! Sister, go and do something amazing! I’m curious to see what happens!”

Ara leaped up and hugged Seon-ah before planting a kiss on Cheong’s cheek. Then she grabbed my hand and tugged me forward.

“We must go! Meetings should be long, but farewells should be short!”

“Where do you learn to say such things, Ara…”

Waving our hands behind us, we headed for the dungeon’s exit aboard the Purr.

***

Kyler, who bore the nickname “The Wanderer,” had visited most nations worth mentioning. This marked his third trip to Korea.

He moved confidently on the now somewhat familiar land, having already received detailed information about Lee Kyu-seong from his friend Nathan.

There was no urgency. After over five years of relentless pursuit for his daughter’s treatment, his approach had become deliberate, though his yearning remained unchanged.

‘Is it here?’

His heightened senses as a Level 9 Awakened detected several presences. Word had it that Team Karimba had attacked, so the security was evidently thorough.

‘Impressive.’

The level of defense was almost presidential, far exceeding expectations for a minor Awakened nation like South Korea.

Observing Kyu-seong’s residence closely since arriving in Korea, Kyler noted the man’s patterns—occasionally stepping out with his familiar, staying inside for days at a time, and then reappearing.

Just as Kyler decided to get closer, an unsettling sensation crept over him.

‘What is this?’

A shiver ran down his spine, but even Kyler couldn’t pinpoint why.

As he continued tracking Kyu-seong through his binoculars, the realization struck him like lightning.

“!!”

The child—or rather, the familiar—beside Kyu-seong.

According to last year’s measurement results, it had barely reached the physical capabilities of a Level 4 Awakened.

This had made Kyu-seong’s defeat of Team Karimba all the more perplexing, but…

‘Is it… watching me right now?’

The familiar locked eyes with Kyler’s position through the binoculars, its gaze unwavering. What he first dismissed as coincidence soon became undeniable.

The familiar had clearly recognized the presence of a Level 9 Awakened—himself.

Kyler immediately folded the binoculars and began erasing his traces before retreating.

He had no plans to act against Lee Kyu-seong.

His interest was fueled by curiosity about the figure America seemed so invested in and the rumors of Team Karimba’s defeat.

He had hoped to approach with goodwill, albeit cautiously, given his circumstances. But it seemed he had already been noticed.

‘I just hope I haven’t been misunderstood…’

Hastily gathering his belongings, he moved on.

Yet, the strange sense of dread from earlier clung to him like a shadow.

Even Kyler, who had faced countless assassination attempts and battles with groups like Team Karimba, had never experienced anything like it.

…No, that couldn’t be.

Was it possible he was still being tracked?

He desperately denied it—the unsettling emotions and the very idea that someone could dare to chase after him, a Level 9 Awakened.

But soon, Kyler realized something shocking: a small presence was following him at incredible speed.

“Gah!”

Startled, Kyler involuntarily gasped, an unusual reaction for someone who rarely let out a sound under pressure.

“Who are you!”

A bold little figure blocked his path and demanded loudly.

Fortunately, Kyler, having traveled to countless countries, was fluent in many languages. He understood the words of the tiny being before him.

Though he was disguised to conceal his identity, the fact that this small creature had caught up to him—a Level 9 Awakened running at full speed—only to ask who he was left him speechless.

“Are you a suspicious person!”
 

Kyler hesitated. Answering truthfully was out of the question, but lying wasn’t easy either.

“You are suspicious! I’ll teach you a lesson!”

The little figure took a combat stance.

Could it be? Perhaps this was a familiar specialized solely in speed. Given its ability to outrun even him, it was plausible that this creature could have taken down Team Karimba in an instant.

But speed alone wasn’t enough. Kyler, with his formidable powers as a Level 9 Awakened, wasn’t afraid of the small creature before him.

Bzzzzzz…

Wait, what was that?

Something felt off. Suddenly, the mana scattered in the air began to vibrate.

Not even the Level 9 Awakened known as the “Great Witch” could generate such an overwhelming force…

Biiiiing–!

BOOOOOM!!!

“Aaaack!”

Kyler Lucas—a secretive figure among the seven Level 9 Awakened in the world and known for his enigmatic nature—was always calm and stoic, rarely speaking a word.

But now, faced with Ara’s devastating breath attack, he found himself in the greatest crisis of his life.

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Round 243

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It was supposed to be a simple party, but somehow it turned into a grand feast.

Every crop from the storage, along with all the seafood we’d gathered, was used in various dishes.

At this rate, I might even qualify as a chef worth boasting about.

‘Thanks to the sauces, cooking has become easier, and the variety of dishes I can make has increased.’

 Seafood dishes, in particular, relied heavily on sauces. Ever since I perfected soy sauce, doenjang, and gochujang, all it took was proper grilling to create delicious meals.

“Delicious is coming! Delicious is coming!”

Cheong kept expressing his amazement in his unique way every time he tasted something.

As expected from a slime, he neither tired nor stopped eating.

I thought he’d eventually get full, but even with his belly visibly swollen, he continued eating non-stop.

“My belly is round!”

Ara pointed to her belly and then Cheong’s. By now, Frey and the other children had already filled their stomachs and were napping beside Seon-ah.

“Fullness is coming.”

 “Finally full! As expected, my little brother!”

At the mention of “little brother,” Soo glanced over with a slightly jealous look.

 —Kyuuit!

 “Soo is also my little brother!”

Ara hastily reassured Soo, who immediately broke into a smile. 

Meanwhile, I finished cooking and finally had a chance to rest.

“Good work!”

“Thank you, oppa.”

Indeed, it was a lot of work. This experience once again made me realize the need to hire professional chefs.

The slimes that had been playing in the fields returned to devour the food I had prepared. The ones who ate first crowded around me, showing off their affection.

“So soft and squishy.”

I grabbed and played with the headbutting slime I hadn’t seen in a while, stretching and squishing it. What a surprise to find it here instead of at the mines.

“Aaah!”

Ara brought over a large piece of fish on a fork.

I accepted it with a quick bite, and Cheong, watching intently, darted his eyes around before picking up something himself.

“Th-this…”

He shyly handed it over. In his tiny hands was a strand of pasta I had made earlier.

“Do you want to eat this?”

“Oh? Oh, thank you.”

He had picked it up so neatly.

As I struggled to eat the pasta from Cheong’s hand, I gave him a thumbs-up.

“It’s delicious!”

“Delicious is coming!”

His beaming smile couldn’t have been any cuter.

As I ate the fish Ara gave me along with the pasta Cheong offered, a thought came to mind.

“Status window.”

Soon, Cheong’s status window appeared before my eyes.

[Cheong (Azure of Apocalypse)]

[One of the Four Horsemen and the Knight of Death]

[A slime with unknown potential]

[Lee Kyuseong’s familiar]

[Abilities: Plague, Chivalry]

I was momentarily speechless and reread the status window twice, even three times.

Then, I looked at Cheong, who, perhaps full now, was dozing off beside me while keeping a wary eye on his surroundings.

How could such a fierce description be attached to this adorable little one? A Knight of Death?

‘A knight? Like the ones from medieval times?’

Come to think of it, Ara was described as a demon of gluttony.

It wasn’t exactly surprising… no, it was still quite surprising.

I checked her two listed abilities.

[Plague LV.??]

Mastery over all kinds of diseases.

That’s it? That’s the entire explanation, status window? 

This is deeply unsettling.

What does “all kinds of diseases” even mean? Is it literally every disease, or is there a limit to what he can control? And what does “mastery” imply?

I have no idea!

‘What the heck is chivalry supposed to mean?’

[Chivalry LV.??]

If one wishes to protect, they are already a knight.

‘What kind of nonsense is this?’

So, what exactly is this ability? Who asked for your poetic musings on chivalry, status window?!

Feeling dizzy from the vague explanations, I decided to focus solely on the plague ability for now.

I didn’t understand the details, but at least I could tell it was extraordinary.

‘It’s probably similar to Mammon’s poison ability.’

Mammon, who could create and wield all sorts of versatile and powerful poisons, was the closest comparison I could think of.

If so, wouldn’t Cheong also have the ability to handle various diseases?

Thinking about it that way, Cheong’s ability seemed incredibly impressive. Of course, I’d have to verify it properly later.

After finishing my review of Cheong’s status window, I looked around. Everyone had fallen asleep, likely drowsy from their full stomachs.

Even Cheong, who had been keeping watch, was now fast asleep, cuddled up with Ara.

Looking at him like this, he didn’t seem like a slime at all—more like a human child.

When I gently stroked his head, it felt slightly damp, as if it had absorbed a bit of moisture.

“Fascinating.”

Hmm, but the status window mentioned he’s one of the Four Horsemen. Does that mean there are three more?

Are the others also slimes?

No clue.

For now, I’d take them on a tour of the dungeon once they woke up.

Pant, pant, pant!

“Waaaah!”

Cheong burst into tears after being pounced on by Woofy. Woofy, who was just excited to greet him, wagged its tail enthusiastically, completely oblivious to his reaction.

“Woofy, stop it already!”

Thankfully, Woofy understood Ara’s words and backed off. Ara quickly ran over and helped Cheong, who had fallen, to his feet.

Cheong immediately hid behind Ara.

“Sniff, sis, it’s scary…”

“You’re still such a crybaby! You haven’t changed a bit!” 

Ara exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air as if in amazement.

Cheong, still hiding behind Ara, hesitated but mimicked her gesture, raising his hands in the air as well.

Woof!

“Waaaah!”

Woofy, thinking the raised hands meant it was time for a hug, eagerly nudged its nose forward again. What an adorable scene.

“Since Cheong is a slime, do you think she likes farming?”

“Not everyone’s the same. Cheong might not like it,” Seon-ah replied thoughtfully, and I had to admit her reasoning made sense.

Judging from Cheong’s personality, he didn’t seem particularly interested in farming… but I decided to show him the fields anyway.

“Alright, everyone, let’s go to the fields.”

“Okay!”

“F-fields! Let’s go!”

I took all the kids to the fields.

The sprawling farmland stretched endlessly before us, filling me with a deep sense of pride.

“Wow.”

The once-small field that had barely covered ten acres was now tens of times larger. Watching the slimes wriggling around—working, or maybe just playing—was heartwarming.

“Wow!”

Seeing the fields for the first time, Cheong’s mouth hung open in awe.

Contrary to my expectations, he seemed genuinely interested.

Soon enough, the children all ran excitedly into the fields. Following them at a slower pace, I caught up to Cheong, who was inspecting the crops.

“What’s this?”

“Potatoes.”

“Potatoes! This is amazing.”

The potatoes were still growing, their lush green leaves swaying gently in the breeze.

Cheong gently brushed his tiny hands over the leaves.

“They’ll grow really well.”

“Oh, what did you do?”

“I gave the potatoes a good disease!”

A disease? What does that even mean?

When I thought about it, diseases often involved bacteria and microorganisms. Could it be that Cheong applied some beneficial bacteria or microorganisms to the plants?

“I never thought of this.”

“Why, what is it? What did our Cheong do?”

“Cheong… can handle diseases.”

“Diseases?” Seon-ah tilted her head in curiosity.

Meanwhile, the kids had already dashed off toward another field.

“This is strawberries! I love strawberries!”

“I’ll make these healthy too!”

This was a completely unexpected way to utilize Cheong’s powers. Who would’ve thought the plague ability could be used like this?

“Wait, if I remember correctly, certain wines use grapes infected with specific molds… Grapes! I need to plant grapes immediately!”

If I entrusted Cheong with their care, I might be able to produce the ultimate grapes for winemaking!

Not that I have any particular interest in wine, of course.

“Even if I don’t care about wine, the idea of creating the best of something in the world is thrilling!”

Cheong’s ability wasn’t the kind that showed immediate results. According to him, it could take anywhere from a few days to several months.

Even though the crops were already delicious, how much better could they become in that time? Just thinking about it made my heart race.

“I can soothe things that are hurting.”

“Our Cheong is amazing!”

“This makes me happy! Hehe.”

Cheong smiled shyly yet brightly.

So, he could heal things that were suffering? That likely extended beyond plants to animals as well.

“This is an incredible ability.”

It was different from when I healed Baek Seung-hyun, Si-young’s wife, or Ryu Cheon in the past.

Those cases involved using my crops to counteract poisons or congenital imbalances.

Cheong’s ability, however, was specifically tailored to bacteria and microorganisms. It was a power to manage diseases—literally to heal. A completely different ability from mine.

 And being able to monitor and improve the condition of plants made it all the more remarkable.

Since most plant issues stem from microorganisms, this ability could potentially solve all such problems.

“No matter how I think about it, our Cheong is incredible.”

“Amazing, my little brother!”

Ara puffed out her chest proudly and declared, her eyes half-lidded in smugness.

Ara, why are you acting so proud? If someone overheard, they’d think we were praising you.

We continued to explore the fields for some time.

Cheong went around using his powers on all the plants, improving the health of the weaker ones and enhancing the already healthy ones.

“This is fun!”

Apparently, even Cheong the slime enjoyed farming. He smiled brightly as he hugged Woofy she had befriended, the two now inseparable.

When I checked the time, the day had already begun to fade into evening.

It had been such a long day. There was still so much to show and teach Cheong, our newest family member.

“I’ll need to take him to the lake, the hot springs, the fairy village, and Gnoll Village too.”

I’d planned to show him the ocean as well, but it seemed there wouldn’t be enough time to fit everything into a single day. I’d take it step by step.

Seeing the potential of Cheong’s ability also made me think I should contact the guild to see if there were any sick people in need of help.

If his powers could resolve their ailments, he should absolutely help.

“Let’s head back. Our comrades are waiting.”

“It’s already bedtime. Sleep is a form of training. I shall take my leave.”

“May I sleep here, Great Lord?”

As everyone began to disperse, Cheong’s eyes wavered.

“Are you leaving? This makes me sad.”

“Uh…?”

“We’ll see each other again! We’re just next door!”

Mammon and Ras, caught off guard, tried to reassure him. But as they noticed the tears welling in his eyes, they scratched their heads awkwardly.

“Great Lord! May we sleep here with everyone tonight? Hehe.”

“I grant permission to sleep while stroking my fur.”

Of course, I agreed, and we decided to all sleep together for the first time in a while.

Under the dreamlike night sky, we laid out bedding outdoors and counted the stars in the Milky Way.

Cheong, seeing the brightly glowing World Tree for the first time, stared in awe, mouth agape.

“Welcome to the family, Cheong.”

“Welcome!”

“Welcome, Cheong.”

“I shall accept you as one of my subordinates. Strive for greatness.”

“Cheong is adorable.”

As if on cue, everyone spoke in unison. Cheong’s face lit up in a radiant smile.

“This makes me happy!”

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