Chapter 12 - Fractured Paths

As he opened the massive stone doors of the 20th-floor chamber, it groaned as they swung open, revealing a vast, dimly lit arena. Torches mounted along the jagged walls flickered ominously, their faint light casting elongated shadows over the cracked stone floor. Jae-Hyun stepped forward, his dark adventurer’s coat swaying slightly, his sharp, cold eyes scanning the arena. His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened as the oppressive atmosphere pressed down on him.

At the center of the arena, a massive lizard-like beast covered in jagged, obsidian spikes stood motionless. Its glowing crimson eyes flickered like flames, locking onto Jae-Hyun as a low, guttural growl rumbled from its throat. The creature’s tail, tipped with spiked protrusions, twitched menacingly, scraping against the floor with a deafening screech.

Thragath, the Spine Tyrant

The system notification appeared in Jae-Hyun’s vision, displaying the boss’s name in bold, light-yellow letters. Beneath it, the title read: "Guardian of the 20th Floor."

“Alright, big guy. Show me what you’ve got.” Jae-Hyun muttered to himself, his voice low and focused. He’d read about this boss—its first phase was relatively manageable, but the second phase… well, that was where most adventurers’ luck ran out. During its second phase, most adventurers had no choice but to defend and stall for time, waiting for its rage mode to run out after 5 minutes. The sheer strength, speed, regeneration, and overwhelming chaos of Thragath in this state made direct confrontation almost impossible.

Thragath let out a deafening roar, the sound reverberating through the chamber as it charged forward with surprising speed for its massive size. Its movements were not entirely wild; there was a sharpness to its approach, a calculated feint as its claws swiped toward Jae-Hyun. The move forced Jae-Hyun to dodge, only to realize too late that the creature’s tail had swung around to catch him off balance. He barely managed to twist out of its range, his instincts screaming at him to stay alert. Jae-Hyun’s instincts kicked in, and he rolled to the side just as Thragath’s claws raked across the floor, leaving deep gashes in the stone. He countered swiftly, slashing at its exposed flank. The blade cut deep, drawing dark, viscous blood that hissed as it hit the ground.

The beast roared in pain, but its retaliation was immediate. Its massive tail lashed out, forcing Jae-Hyun to duck under the sweeping strike. The sheer force of the tail’s impact shattered a section of the floor behind him, sending shards of stone flying.

Jae-Hyun grimaced, adjusting his stance. He had underestimated the beast’s agility. “Looks like you’re not going down without a fight,” he muttered, a flicker of determination lighting his eyes.

He lunged forward, dodging another swipe and delivering a calculated slash to its leg. Thragath stumbled briefly but recovered with an angry roar, its claws slashing in rapid succession. Jae-Hyun deflected the blows with his blade, each clash sending vibrations up his arm.

With a burst of speed, Jae-Hyun feinted to the left, aiming for the creature’s underbelly. Thragath, however, was not as mindless as it appeared. As Jae-Hyun committed to the strike, the Spine Tyrant twisted its massive body, attempting to catch him off guard with a counter swipe from its claw. Jae-Hyun barely managed to adjust mid-strike, twisting his body to avoid the blow. His sword grazed the beast’s underbelly, forcing it to stagger back but leaving Jae-Hyun panting from the unexpected maneuver. "Alright," he muttered under his breath, "you’re smarter than you look." The attack hit its mark, forcing Thragath to stagger back. Its movements grew sluggish as it roared in defiance, but with a final, well-aimed strike to its neck, Jae-Hyun brought the Spine Tyrant crashing to the ground. He exhaled sharply, lowering his blade as he surveyed the fallen creature.

“If this is the best it’s got, I’m disappointed,” he muttered, but his instincts screamed otherwise.

The ground beneath him trembled violently. Thragath’s supposedly lifeless body began to twitch, and a guttural, inhuman roar erupted from its maw. Crimson energy pulsed through the jagged spikes on its back as the creature rose once more, its body radiating an ominous, fiery aura. The name above its head shifted from light yellow to a dark orange, flickering ominously, then deepening to red.

Phase Two Activated: Thragath, the Spine Tyrant (Rage Mode)

The system notification flashed before Jae-Hyun’s eyes, followed by another message:

New System Quest: Defeat Thragath within 5 minutes.

Penalty for Failure: 50% reduction to all stats.

Jae-Hyun’s eyes widened in shock. “Five minutes? Are you kidding me?” he snapped, glaring at the glowing notification. His mind raced, weighing his options, but before he could formulate a plan, another message appeared:

System Notification: Oh, come on. Where’s the fun if it’s too easy?

Jae-Hyun clenched his jaw, muttering under his breath. “One day, just one day, the system might actually let me breathe.”

The system’s response was immediate and dripping with mockery. “Oh, Challenger, where’s your sense of adventure? Surely you didn’t expect me to sit this one out?” It added, with a sly jab, “And here I thought you liked a challenge. Should I make it easier? No? Then quit complaining and start fighting!” It added with a playful jab, “You’re the ‘Challenger,’ aren’t you? Shouldn’t this be nothing more than a warm-up?”

Thragath’s rage mode was unlike anything Jae-Hyun had seen. Its movements became erratic and unpredictable, each swipe of its claws tearing through the air with terrifying speed. To make matters worse, the beast’s wounds from the first phase were rapidly closing, its regeneration working overtime.

As if that weren’t enough, dark portals began to materialize around the arena. From them emerged smaller lizard-like creatures, each one bearing the same jagged spikes and glowing red eyes as their master. The Spine Tyrant’s roar seemed to rally them, and they charged toward Jae-Hyun in a frenzied swarm.

“Perfect,” Jae-Hyun muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm. Without hesitation, he activated his Abyssal Shadow skill. Spectral warriors materialized around him, their forms shifting and flickering like living shadows. Among them was Kaelzar, the towering shadow half-demon half-dragon, its presence dwarfing even Thragath’s minions.

“Kaelzar,” Jae-Hyun commanded, his voice firm, “lead the shadows and handle the minions. Keep them off me.” The towering shadow general dipped its head in acknowledgment, its glowing eyes narrowing with focused intensity. Kaelzar surged forward, rallying the shadow army with calculated precision. His movements were not only fierce but deliberate, cutting through the chaos and ensuring the spectral warriors maintained their formation. Meanwhile, Jae-Hyun took a moment to reassess the situation, the frenzied melee giving him just enough cover to plot his next move against Thragath. Jae-Hyun’s trust in his summoned forces allowed him to focus entirely on Thragath.

The Spine Tyrant’s regeneration was a major obstacle, but Jae-Hyun’s sharp eyes caught something—a faint, rhythmic glow emanating from its chest, beneath the largest cluster of spikes. It was subtle, but it pulsed in time with the creature’s movements.

“A core,” Jae-Hyun realized. “That’s what’s fueling its regeneration.”

With renewed determination, he surged forward, weaving through the beast’s wild attacks. A massive claw swiped inches from his face, but the Shard of Temporal Edge he had obtained earlier came in clutch, enhancing his reaction time just enough to dodge at the last moment. Using the momentum, he delivered a powerful strike to the glowing core. The impact sent a shockwave through the arena, and Thragath roared in agony as cracks spread across its chest.

The timer in the corner of Jae-Hyun’s vision ticked down mercilessly. 2:47. 2:46. 2:45.

Thragath’s rage only intensified, its movements growing more desperate and feral. Jae-Hyun’s breathing was labored, his muscles screaming in protest as he dodged, parried, and struck with precision. Every second felt like an eternity, but he refused to relent.

Finally, with a decisive leap, Jae-Hyun drove his Abyssal Blade into the core with all his strength. The glowing orb shattered, and Thragath let out one final, deafening roar. Yet, instead of collapsing immediately, it thrashed wildly, catching Jae-Hyun off guard. The massive tail slammed into his side, sending him tumbling across the arena. Blood dripped from his lips as he struggled to rise, his vision blurring.

The timer showed 0:21. Every part of his body screamed in protest, his vision blurred from exhaustion, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. For a fleeting moment, doubt crept into his mind—was this it? But Jae-Hyun clenched his fists, forcing himself to stand. "No," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with determination. "Not yet." His potions were gone, his stamina depleted, but the fight wasn’t over yet.

“Kaelzar!” Jae-Hyun’s voice was hoarse but commanding. “Distract it!”

The shadow general roared, diving toward Thragath with all its might. The Spine Tyrant turned its attention to the incoming threat, leaving a narrow opening.

Jae-Hyun’s grip on his sword tightened as he steadied his breath. “This ends now.”

With everything he had, he dashed toward Thragath, aiming for its blind spot. But as he closed the distance, the beast turned, its bloodied eyes locking onto him. It lashed out with one final, desperate claw strike.

The blow connected, raking across Jae-Hyun’s side and drawing a spray of blood, but he didn’t stop. Ignoring the searing pain, he drove his blade into Thragath’s head with all the strength he could muster. The beast roared one last time before collapsing, its massive body shaking the ground as it fell.

Jae-Hyun stumbled backward, his vision fading. The system’s chime sounded faint and distant:

Quest Complete: Thragath, the Spine Tyrant defeated.

Reward: Increased EXP, Rare Loot Box, and access to the 21st floor.

Jae-Hyun’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. The last thing he saw before everything went black was Kaelzar standing over him, guarding his fallen form.

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Jae-Hyun’s eyelids fluttered open, his body screaming in protest as the dull ache of pain radiated through every inch of him. He lay sprawled on the cracked stone floor of the arena, the aftermath of his battle with Thragath still evident. The arena was eerily silent now, save for the faint crackling of dying torches lining the walls.

Groaning, Jae-Hyun forced himself to sit up, his hand instinctively clutching his side where Thragath’s claws had torn through his coat. Blood had dried across his skin, and his entire body felt like it had been through a meat grinder. His sharp, cold eyes flicked to his surroundings, noticing the shadowy figures of his spectral army standing vigilantly nearby. At the forefront stood Kaelzar, the towering shadow general, his glowing eyes fixed protectively on Jae-Hyun.

“Still here, huh?” Jae-Hyun muttered hoarsely, managing a faint smirk. Kaelzar dipped his massive head in acknowledgment, his presence imposing yet reassuring. Kaelzar shifted slightly, his massive claws digging into the stone as his glowing eyes narrowed. A low growl rumbled in his chest, a clear sign of his vigilance.

Grimacing, Jae-Hyun opened the system interface, navigating to the shop. He barely had the strength to stand, let alone move, and his priority was clear.

Purchase: Greater Healing Potion – 500 Gold.

The glowing vial materialized in his hand, its contents shimmering with a golden hue. Without hesitation, he downed it in one gulp. Warmth spread through his body as the potion took effect, closing his wounds and dulling the worst of his pain. He repeated the process with a second potion, ensuring he was at full strength.

With a relieved sigh, he stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders. “Alright,” he muttered, “let’s see what I got for all that trouble.”

Opening the system rewards menu, a triumphant chime played as a series of notifications appeared before him:

Level Up! Level Up! Current Level: 41

Rare Loot Box Obtained! High-End Mana Crystal Obtained!

Jae-Hyun’s gaze lingered on the level notification. He’d gained two levels from the fight, bringing him closer to the A-Rank threshold. The number carried weight—not just in power, but in the trials he had endured to reach it. A faint smirk crossed his lips. Yet, there was no time to celebrate. Each level brought him closer to the truth, and the stakes only grew higher.

What truly caught his attention was the state of his shadow army. A quick glance revealed something he hadn’t noticed before—Kaelzar and his spectral forces had leveled up alongside him. Their forms looked sharper, darker, and more defined, exuding an aura of greater strength.

“Looks like you’ve been getting stronger too,” Jae-Hyun said, eyeing Kaelzar. The Shadow General lowered his head slightly, a low rumble emanating from him as if in agreement.

He turned his attention to the Rare Loot Box. The ornate chest shimmered faintly in his inventory, its edges trimmed with gold and intricate runic engravings.

Use Rare Loot Box?

Jae-Hyun tapped “Yes,” and the box materialized before him, opening with a burst of light. The chest shimmered faintly, almost reluctant to give up its treasure. As Jae-Hyun opened it, a surge of energy flooded the air, and the artifact emerged, glowing with an intensity that made him squint. Its presence radiated power.

Item Obtained: Chrono-Weaver’s Amulet

Very Rare Artifact: This ancient amulet allows the wearer to manipulate the flow of time in short bursts. Grants the skill "Temporal Surge," enabling the user to slow time for 5 seconds at a significant mana cost. Cooldown: 10 minutes.

Jae-Hyun’s eyebrows shot up as he examined the artifact. “Now this… this is going to come in handy.” He slipped the amulet over his neck, feeling a faint hum of energy as it attuned itself to him.

Next, he inspected the High-End Mana Crystal, a shimmering blue gem that pulsed faintly in his palm. Its description indicated it could be used to replenish a massive amount of mana or as a crafting component for high-tier equipment. He tucked it away, saving it for when he’d truly need it.

Jae-Hyun glanced up at Kaelzar, who had been watching silently. “How long was I out?” he asked.

Kaelzar raised one massive clawed hand, extending four fingers.

“Four days?” Jae-Hyun’s voice was laced with alarm. Kaelzar shook his head slowly, then nodded at Jae-Hyun’s second guess. “Hours?”

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The shadow general dipped his head in confirmation.

“Four hours,” Jae-Hyun repeated, exhaling in relief. “Could be worse, I guess.”

Jae-Hyun took a deep breath, letting the events of the last few hours replay in his mind. The vivid memory of Thragath’s claws tearing through the air, the blinding glow of the shattered core, and the life-or-death chaos of the battle sent a shiver down his spine. His fingers traced the edges of the amulet hanging from his neck, its presence grounding him.

“I came so close to losing it all…” he muttered, his voice barely audible. His fists clenched as his thoughts shifted. His father’s cold, calculating eyes and his brother’s mocking smirk flashed in his mind. The memory burned like a brand, fueling the fire inside him.

He straightened, his sharp eyes narrowing. “No matter how strong they are now… I’ll surpass them. I’ll crush them.” The quiet determination in his tone carried a weight that even Kaelzar seemed to notice, the shadow general tilting his massive head in silent acknowledgment.

“They think they’ve won,” Jae-Hyun said under his breath, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “But every step I take in this Tower brings me closer. Closer to making them pay for what they’ve done.”Just as he began to rise to his feet, the air in the arena shifted. A faint ripple distorted the space before him, and within seconds, the mysterious NPC he had encountered at the entrance of the chamber appeared once again. The air turned frigid, and a faint hum vibrated through the arena as the NPC materialized, their cloak billowing despite the stillness. Dressed in the same tattered cloak, their face now obscured by a hood, they radiated an otherworldly aura.

“Congratulations, Challenger,” the NPC said, their voice calm yet carrying an unnerving weight. “You have achieved yet another feat—defeating Thragath within its rage mode. Few have ever managed such a task.”

Jae-Hyun narrowed his eyes, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword. “You again. Who are you? And what do you mean by ‘few’?”

The NPC ignored his question, their head tilting slightly as if amused. “We are all pleased with your performance. You continue to exceed expectations.”

“We?” Jae-Hyun pressed, stepping forward. “Who’s ‘we’? Are you talking about the Tower’s creators? What do you want from me?”

The NPC’s lips curved into a faint smile, though their face remained mostly hidden. “I’ll be waiting for you,” they said cryptically.

Before Jae-Hyun could demand further answers, the NPC vanished in a blink, leaving behind only the faint ripple in the air where they had stood. He cursed under his breath, frustration bubbling within him.

“Figures,” he muttered.

Kaelzar let out a low growl, his glowing eyes locked on the spot where the NPC had been. Jae-Hyun took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. There was no use dwelling on the encounter now. The answers would come in time—he just had to survive long enough to find them.

With a determined expression, he turned toward the glowing portal that had appeared at the center of the arena. It beckoned him to ascend to the 21st floor, promising even greater challenges ahead. The portal flickered ominously, its light casting strange, shifting patterns on the cracked stone floor. Whatever lay ahead, Jae-Hyun knew it wouldn’t be easier. And that thought only hardened his resolve.

“Alright,” he said softly, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. “Let’s see what’s next. I've already wasted four hours.”

And with that, Jae-Hyun stepped forward, his resolve stronger than ever, ready to face whatever the Tower had in store.

Unbeknownst to him, elsewhere in the Tower, another struggle unfolded—one that would test Ahri’s resolve in ways she had never imagined.

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The faint light filtering through the dense forest canopy of the fifth floor created an oppressive atmosphere, but Ahri paid it little mind. Her thoughts raced, her body tense as she adjusted the strap of her sword scabbard. She was no stranger to this floor; she had walked these woods before, during her brief time with Jae-Hyun. Back then, the monsters here had been manageable—light-yellow names that posed little threat to either of them. But now, as she ventured deeper alone, things felt… different.

Her boots crunched softly against the ground as she stepped into a clearing. Something felt off. The usual ambient sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves had fallen into a suffocating silence. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her mind wandered briefly to Jae-Hyun. He had always seemed so sure, so confident, even in the face of overwhelming odds. Could she ever become someone like that? Could she ever stand by his side without being a burden?

Something’s wrong.

Instinctively, she reached for the hilt of her sword. The tension in the air thickened, and then, from the shadows of the trees, a hulking beast emerged. Its gnarled, blackened hide glistened in the faint light, and its piercing, glowing orange eyes locked onto her. Jagged horns jutted from its head, and its claws dug into the ground with a sickening scrape as it advanced.

Gorehorn Ravager

The name appeared in her vision, its color an ominous orange. Ahri’s heart sank. In her limited experience, she’d learned that the color of a name wasn’t just a cosmetic feature—it was a warning. And orange meant danger.

She swallowed hard, gripping the hilt tightly. “Why is something like you here?” she muttered, her voice shaky but laced with determination. Monsters on this floor weren’t supposed to be this strong. It didn’t make sense.

The Ravager let out a guttural roar, its claws digging into the ground as it charged. Ahri barely had time to react, diving to the side as the beast’s massive frame crashed into the spot she’d been standing. Dirt and debris exploded into the air, and she rolled to her feet, her left hand already glowing faintly with mana.

Focus, Ahri. You’ve trained for this.

With a quick gesture, she unleashed a small burst of mana-infused energy from her palm, aiming for the Ravager’s side. The energy struck true, but the beast barely flinched, its thick hide absorbing most of the impact. Ahri cursed under her breath, drawing her sword and settling into a defensive stance.

The Ravager circled her, its movements deliberate. It didn’t just charge recklessly; it feinted, testing her reactions, forcing her to stay on edge. When she dodged one swipe, its tail lashed out like a whip, nearly catching her mid-step. Its intelligence was unnerving, as if it were playing with her, probing her weaknesses.

“Are you kidding me?” she muttered, her frustration mounting. She sidestepped another swipe of its claws, the sheer force of the attack sending a gust of wind that stung her cheeks.

Ahri leapt back, her mind racing. Her blade wasn’t cutting deep enough, and her mana reserves were too limited to rely heavily on spells. She needed to combine her skills. Holding her sword aloft, she channeled a burst of mana into the blade, its edge shimmering with a faint, ethereal glow. With a swift slash, she sent an arc of energy flying toward the beast’s legs. The Ravager dodged partially, but the attack nicked its knee, causing it to stumble slightly.

The beast roared again, lunging forward. This time, its claws grazed her arm, tearing through the sleeve of her tunic and leaving a shallow but stinging wound. Ahri hissed in pain, stumbling backward and nearly losing her footing.

I can’t keep this up.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she put distance between herself and the monster. The forest around her seemed to close in, the once-familiar terrain now feeling hostile and alien. She tightened her grip on her sword, the faint glow of mana flickering around her hands as she prepared another spell.

This wasn’t like before. Before, she’d had Jae-Hyun—his overwhelming presence, his unshakable confidence. Now, she was alone. She’d been reset, stripped of everything she once knew, and thrust into a world where survival wasn’t just a challenge—it was an expectation.

“Why am I even doing this?” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. Doubt crept into her mind, insidious and suffocating. Every mistake, every misstep, felt magnified. She could almost hear Jae-Hyun’s voice, urging her to push forward. But his absence only made her feel more lost.

The Ravager charged again, and Ahri barely managed to dodge, the beast’s claws tearing through the trunk of a tree behind her. She stumbled, falling to one knee as the ground beneath her shook from the force of the attack.

Her grip on her sword tightened as tears of frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. But even as the words left her lips, a spark of defiance flickered within her. She couldn’t give up. Not here. Not now.

Taking a deep breath, Ahri forced herself to focus. She had to think. The Ravager was strong, but it wasn’t invincible. There had to be a way.

Aim for the legs. Slow it down.

With renewed determination, she surged forward, channeling mana into her blade. The sword glowed brighter as she slashed at the beast’s knee, the infused energy amplifying the strike. The blow landed with a crack, forcing the Ravager to stagger as it let out a roar of pain.

Ahri seized the moment, summoning a glyph beneath her feet that enhanced her agility. She darted around the beast, landing precise strikes on its weakened joint. The Ravager howled, its movements becoming more erratic as it struggled to maintain its balance.

But it wasn’t enough.

The beast lunged, and this time, its claws caught her leg, dragging her to the ground. Pain exploded through her as she cried out, kicking desperately to free herself. Her boot connected with its snout, forcing it to release her, but the damage was done. Blood seeped from the gashes on her leg, and her vision blurred as she struggled to stand.

“Get up,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “Get up, Ahri. You’re not done yet.”

Drawing on sheer willpower, she forced herself to her feet. Her mana reserves were nearly depleted, but she refused to give in. Not here. Not to this.

The Ravager circled her, its orange eyes blazing with fury. It lunged again, and this time, Ahri sidestepped, channeling the last of her mana into a spell. The energy surged through her blade as she struck at its exposed neck. The Ravager let out a choked roar, its movements growing sluggish as blood poured from the wound.

Seizing the opportunity, Ahri sprinted forward, gripping her sword with both hands. With a fierce cry, she drove the blade into the beast’s neck, twisting it with all her strength. The Ravager thrashed violently, nearly throwing her off, but she held on, driving the blade deeper until the beast collapsed beneath her.

Ahri rolled off its lifeless body, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Pain radiated through every part of her, but she couldn’t help the small, shaky laugh that escaped her lips.

“I did it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I actually did it.”

A soft chime echoed in her ears, breaking the stillness.

System Notification: Level up! Level up!

But the victory felt hollow. As she lay there, staring up at the canopy above, the doubts crept back in. She’d barely survived. Every moment of that fight had been a struggle, a reminder of how far she still had to go.

“Is this really me now?” she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Reset, relearning everything from scratch… barely scraping by.”

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe deeply. Her body ached, her mana was gone, and her supplies were nearly depleted. But she was alive. And as long as she was alive, she could keep moving forward.

She thought of Jae-Hyun again, of how strong he’d become. Somewhere out there, he was fighting his own battles. If she couldn’t keep up, how could she ever hope to stand by his side again?

“I have to get stronger,” she said softly, the words a promise to herself. “I can’t stay like this.”

The oppressive silence of the forest seemed to lift slightly as she adjusted the strap of her scabbard. The faint rustling of leaves in the distance reminded her that the world was still moving, and so should she. She pushed herself to her feet, her legs wobbling as she leaned against a tree for support. Every step forward felt heavier than the last, but she refused to stay down.

The fight had nearly broken her. But it hadn’t. And that was enough. For now.

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Miles away, under a starless sky, the bustling camp near the Rank A Gate stood in stark contrast to the solitude of the Tower’s trials. Fires flickered in metal braziers, casting long shadows against the outpost’s stone walls. Mi-Rae leaned against the cold stone, her armor streaked with dirt and blood, remnants of the raid that had only recently concluded. Her gaze drifted across the camp—hunters and medics moved with a practiced efficiency, tending to the wounded, cataloging loot, and reinforcing their defenses.

The air carried the faint metallic scent of blood mixed with the acrid tang of burnt mana residue, a harsh reminder of the battle they had barely survived. Mi-Rae’s body ached, but the weight pressing down on her chest was far heavier than any physical injury. Flashes of the raid played in her mind—the desperate shouts, the horrifying moment when a decision had to be made. She remembered the young archer who had trusted her implicitly, only to fall because of her hesitation. His desperate scream, cut short, haunted her like a ghost. Her hesitation had cost lives.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice, calm yet carrying a note of concern. “Mi-Rae.”

She turned to see Sungho, one of the senior members of the raid party. His weathered face bore the signs of exhaustion, but his sharp eyes softened as they met hers.

“You’ve been quiet since the raid ended,” he said, stepping closer. “Want to talk about it?”

Mi-Rae hesitated, her hand brushing the edge of her bracer. She glanced away, her expression guarded. “There’s nothing to talk about. We succeeded, didn’t we?”

Sungho’s brow furrowed. “We did. But not without losses.” He paused, his voice softening. “You’re blaming yourself, aren’t you?”

Her jaw tightened. She looked down, avoiding his gaze. “I should have made the call faster,” she admitted, her voice low. “If I’d acted sooner, those men would still be alive.”

Sungho placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Mi-Rae, listen to me. You made the best decisions you could in the heat of the moment. No one’s perfect, not even you. But if it weren’t for you, the rest of us wouldn’t have made it back at all.”

“But they trusted me,” she said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain composed. “And I let them down.”

“You’re still young,” Sungho replied. “You have potential, Mi-Rae—more than anyone else I’ve seen. Leadership isn’t about never making mistakes. It’s about learning from them. And trust me, you’ve earned our respect.”

His words, though kind, did little to ease the weight she carried. She nodded silently, a polite acknowledgment rather than genuine agreement. Sungho squeezed her shoulder briefly before stepping back. “Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

Mi-Rae watched him walk away, her composure cracking the moment he was out of sight. Her nails dug into her palms as she fought to contain the tide of guilt and anger within her. The chill of the evening air bit into her skin, mirroring the coldness she felt in her chest. Her hands balled into fists, trembling as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. The chill of the evening air seemed to bite at her skin, echoing the coldness she felt within. She wanted to believe Sungho, but the faces of those they had lost haunted her—especially the young archer who had followed her orders without hesitation. The memory of his final, desperate scream burned like a brand in her mind. Could she truly call herself a prodigy if her decisions came at such a cost?

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Later that evening, Mi-Rae found herself in the main hall of the guild’s outpost. The room was stark, its stone walls adorned with banners bearing the Silver Talon’s sigil. Her father, Min-Seok, stood at the far end, his imposing figure silhouetted against the flickering light of a brazier. Tae-Jun, her older brother, leaned casually against the wall nearby, his smirk as sharp as ever.

“You completed the raid,” her father said, his tone as cold and measured as always. “But barely. Your performance left much to be desired, Mi-Rae.”

She stood rigid, her expression unreadable. “The gate was cleared. The objective was met.”

“At what cost?” her father snapped, his voice rising. “You lost men. Valuable assets. That’s unacceptable.”

Mi-Rae’s fists clenched at her sides, but she forced herself to remain calm. “I’ll do better next time.”

“You’d better,” Min-Seok said, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. “You’re a prodigy, Mi-Rae. That title comes with expectations. This guild demands perfection. And I will not tolerate failure—not from you.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. “I’m sure you don’t want to be a failure like your dead brother.”

The words struck her like a physical blow, but she didn’t flinch. Her face remained impassive, though her nails bit into her palms hard enough to draw blood. Anger surged within her, threatening to spill over, but she swallowed it down. She couldn’t afford to let him see her weakness.

“Understood,” she said evenly, her tone devoid of emotion.

Her father regarded her for a moment longer before turning away, his words lingering in the air like poison. The cold authority in his voice reminded her of the chains that bound her to the Silver Talon Guild, chains she wasn’t sure she could break. Tae-Jun’s smirk widened as he gave her a mock salute. “Better luck next time, little sis.”

She ignored him, her movements stiff as she left the hall. Once outside, she exhaled shakily, her composure slipping for just a moment. Her father’s words echoed in her mind, each syllable like a knife twisting in her chest.

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Back in her quarters, Mi-Rae sat on the edge of her bed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. The soft glow of the screen illuminated her face as she stared at the message she had sent earlier:

Mi-Rae: “I still can’t believe you’re alive. I’ve been thinking about you non-stop since earlier. How have you been? What happened all this time? Are you okay? I really want to hear from you soon.”

Hours had passed, but there was no reply. Doubt gnawed at her. Had she mistyped his number? Was he ignoring her? Or worse… was he in danger?

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard before she typed another message. The memory of Jae-Hyun’s steady presence resurfaced—a quiet reassurance that had always been her anchor in moments like these. But now, without him, the silence was deafening:

Mi-Rae: “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry. If I got the wrong number…” She hesitated, deleting the last part before continuing. “Please let me know if you’re safe.”

She hit send, her heart pounding as she set the phone aside. Her gaze drifted to the window, where the faint outline of the A-Rank Gate loomed in the distance. The cold air seeped through the cracks in the stone walls, sending a shiver down her spine. Even the faint flicker of light from the brazier in the corner seemed feeble, barely holding back the encroaching shadows.

I want to leave, she thought, her fists clenching. This guild, this family… they’re suffocating me. But leaving would mean freedom—and it would mean making enemies of them. Will they try to kill me like they tried with Oppa? I don't stand a chance against Father or Tae-Jun. Not as I am now.

Her thoughts turned to Jae-Hyun. The last memory she had of him played vividly in her mind: his protective smile as he ruffled her hair, promising he’d always have her back. What was he waiting for? What was he planning? Did he even know how much his absence had cost her?

A single tear slid down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly. There was no room for weakness, not here. Not in the Silver Talon Guild.

But as she sat there, staring at the faint glow of her phone, one thought burned brighter than the rest:

Whatever happens, I have to be ready—even if it means facing Father and Tae-Jun sooner than I’d like.