I was crying?
I lifted a hand and wiped at my eyes. Sure enough, the back of my hand was damp.
“...Ha.”
A hollow laugh escaped me in disbelief.
Was this really the time to cry? I was the first to get taken out after recklessly charging at a monster. I could only imagine how baffled the other S-ranks must have been watching me fall.
Fortunately, the tears stopped quickly. As I wiped them away, I realized I wasn’t wearing my mask and pushed myself up.
“Where’s my mask?”
“Here.”
Cha Sahyeon, nervously glancing at me, quickly handed it over. Only then did I notice—I’d been lying in his arms.
Good. I’m still in S-rank form, at least.
I glanced around, then turned my gaze to Cha Sahyeon. He wasn’t wearing his mask—his face was fully exposed.
“How long was I unconscious?”
“About an hour.”
That’s not too bad. It was still far from daybreak. I let out a breath of relief and put the mask back on.
“Tell me what happened while I was out. Is that shield around us your doing?”
A pitch-black barrier stretched in a wide circle around us, about ten meters in radius. I looked up at it as I asked, and Cha Sahyeon nodded.
“We’re in the monster’s core. There’s too much particle dispersion, and it’s sharp. I set up a shield so you wouldn’t get hurt.”
So that’s why everything was dark when I opened my eyes.
Still, the monster’s core...?
I must’ve fallen into the interior of that huge monster. Though “body” was a loose term—it was really just a mass of particles.
That ticking sound I keep hearing must be the particles hitting the surface of the shield.
It sounded like rain tapping against a window. Which meant there was an overwhelming number of particles swirling beyond the barrier.
After reaching that conclusion, I picked up on a familiar energy from nearby.
I turned in the direction it came from—and saw three figures collapsed near the edge of the shield.
“Vice-Guildmaster!”
I rushed over and checked Ryu Sunghyun’s condition first.
His breathing was steady, and I could feel a clear pulse in his wrist, but his eyes stayed firmly shut. Kwon Taehyuk and Eun Woojeong were lying next to him, both in the same state.
“They collapsed not long after you did. They’ve been asleep ever since.”
“The monster used a mental-type skill. They’re trapped in a dream, like I was.”
The skill probably didn’t affect Cha Sahyeon because he was stronger than the monster.
The fact that S-ranks dropped like dominos to a skill... If Cha Sahyeon hadn’t been here, things would’ve gone to hell fast.
But then... why did I wake up?
That being I saw in the dream. Judging by context, it had to be the same monster outside the shield. But why would it go to the trouble of casting the skill only to wake me up an hour later?
Sitting here wouldn’t get me answers. I had to move. If I wanted to wake the others, I had to deal with the monster first.
More than that... the form the monster showed me right before I woke up...
Thinking back on everything that had happened, I had a pretty good idea.
I looked down at Ryu Sunghyun’s face for a moment, then gently released his wrist.
“Cha Sahyeon. Back at the mountain, you said we had to find the ‘source of the energy,’ and that you could guide me to it.”
“Yeah.”
“I think there’s a ‘source’ here too. Am I right?”
“...”
He didn’t respond right away, just stared at me silently. Then, finally, he spoke.
“I was just about to explain it... but you already figured it out. You’re right. I can feel the source nearby. This whole mess started with a dungeon break, so it’s probably near the dungeon entrance—or deeper inside.”
Thought so. I immediately straightened my knees and turned toward where the dungeon entrance should be.
“Send a shadow to guide me there. You stay and guard this place.”
“No. I’ll guide you myself.”
“If we both leave, who’s guarding here?”
“I’ll leave a shadow here instead. There’s no guarantee the source won’t be dangerous. And I can’t just leave you here alone either.”
Cha Sahyeon stepped closer, desperation on his face.
“Please, hyung. Do you know how many times you’ve been hurt or passed out in front of me? My heart can’t take it anymore...”
His voice cracked and trembled, barely above a whisper. His eyes were distorted, on the verge of tears.
What the hell?
I instinctively took a step back—only for him to grab my wrist.
“Just this once, can you not be stubborn and do what I ask? I’ll leave the strongest shadow I have to guard this place. Isn’t that enough?”
“Cha Sahyeon.”
“Between this place and where the source is, obviously the more dangerous one is the latter, right? What if something happens if I let you go alone? I came running the second you were attacked, and even then...”
His gaze dropped. He’d seen the wound on my side, hidden under the blue jacket. His lips twisted in frustration as he bit them.
“Even if you say no, I’m still going with you. If you keep refusing, I won’t leave any shadow behind. If you really want them to be safe—then take me with you.”
“...Ha.”
What started as a plea had suddenly turned into a demand. It was absurd, but I couldn’t just brush it off as a childish tantrum.
“All right, calm down first.”
If we were being logical about danger, then clearly the dungeon—where the source and monster could appear—was the greater threat.
And honestly, I was the one at a disadvantage here. As his older brother, I asked him for a favor, but it was me who needed him more. If Cha Sahyeon got upset and abandoned us here, we’d all be screwed.
If I want to eliminate the source as soon as possible, I need Cha Sahyeon’s help.
The source was likely near the dungeon entrance or somewhere inside.
Monsters would almost certainly appear. It was smarter to take Cha Sahyeon. He could clear them out with a few swipes of his hand.
“Fine. Put shadows on all three of them. You’re coming with me.”
If we dealt with the source and the monster, the three sleeping ones would wake up on their own.
“But promise me one thing. If anything happens to the shadows you leave here, you’ll immediately come back to protect them.”
“...Got it. I will.”
He looked disgruntled at the idea of guarding them over me, but °• N o v e l i g h t •° he didn’t reject it. He must’ve realized arguing further would only drag this out.
I had no intention of wasting any more time either. I exhaled and started walking.
“Let’s go.”
It was harder to tear my gaze away than it was to take that first step.
I looked at Ryu Sunghyun’s face one last time before forcing myself to turn away.
“Hyung.”
“Speak.”
“Back there...”
Tick. Tick.
The sound of particles striking the shield echoed between us as Cha Sahyeon followed close behind.
A shadow shield identical to the one around the three had formed around us too, as we headed toward the dungeon.
He’s escorting me in shadow form and keeping two shields up at once?
Even for an L-rank, this was kind of busted. Not to mention, he could teleport anywhere through his shadows.
“You said the monster used a mental-type skill to trap you in a dream.”
“I did.”
“...I want to know.”
Cha Sahyeon swallowed dryly and asked again.
“I want to know what kind of dream you had.”
“...”
“Can you tell me? What kind of dream it was—why you cried.”
“...”
“You can tell me... right?”
That final line, spoken after a long pause, made me laugh involuntarily. Though I was wearing a mask, that sharp laugh wouldn’t have escaped his notice. I didn’t try to hide it either.
“Hyung?”
“What if I told you I cried because of you?”
His expression froze, pale and shaken.
“In the dream, I met you—and I hated it. Meeting you was so horrific and painful that I cried. What would you do then?”
The fury churning in the pit of my stomach was impossible to suppress.
His clueless questions—asking me what kind of dream it was—stabbed into me like a needle.
Everything I’d seen in that dream had once been real. And Cha Sahyeon, who had been the cause of its ruin, made every buried emotion boil over.
“...”
Cha Sahyeon’s face went sheet-white. His eyes widened, lips trembling as if he wanted to say something—but nothing came out.
I knew I shouldn’t have reacted like this. That blaming him wouldn’t bring back what I’d lost.
But still...
Still, I just couldn’t...
“...”
“...”
Cha Sahyeon blinked slowly, twice—then lowered his head, saying nothing. He looked unmistakably hurt. I didn’t speak either.
We walked on in silence.
Acting on emotion always left me with regret.
I felt wronged. I hated him. I hated everything he represented. But at the same time, I regretted what I’d just said. Seeing him hurt by it made me feel pathetic.
As I thrashed in the tangled waves of emotion, one question rose to the surface again—a question I’d asked myself many times.
Why did the system entrust Cha Sahyeon to me?
It knew how much I hated him. It knew I couldn’t help but hate him.
Surely there was someone better—someone more stable, someone who could truly love him... Someone who could give him the affection he deserved.

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