On the way from Pinehill to the capital, the suspicious smoke had nearly swallowed up the Rocky Mountains. Word had it that the villagers at the base of the mountain had evacuated this morning in case something went wrong.
Alongside that, rumors about the black mist in Cloverland were spreading fast, and households with elderly people or children were growing increasingly fearful.
Satin picked up these stories on the street. It took only a few minutes.
“They say he only woke up after defeating the Demon King.”
“If he hadn’t beaten him, maybe he wouldn’t have woken up at all.”
“Then… does that mean he died?”
“Well, who knows… Still, I doubt it ended well.”
Even now, right next to him, people were still whispering the same things.
Satin, knowing they had eventually woken up, judged it to be nothing serious—but the others, shaken by the thought that they might not have woken, were trembling. Negative thinking really was that dangerous.
Rita, who had been eavesdropping along with him, clicked her tongue.
“The mood is getting kind of grim.”
“Still, I think it’s relatively under control.”
At Satin’s reply, Rita tilted her head.
“You think so?”
“If it wasn’t under control, we’d be seeing looters fleeing left and right by now.”
In times of crisis, looting often erupts. But the capital, for something supposedly in crisis, felt far too peaceful. Shops were open as usual, and people moved freely through the streets. While some were frightened that the suspicious smoke might reach the capital, hardly anyone was actually abandoning their homes.
It was all thanks to the Grand Temple’s publicity. Even before Satin and the party arrived in the capital, the temple had already announced that a hero had been chosen and was prepared to resolve the ordeal. Just as the crisis in Cloverland had been quelled, so too would the threats to the capital and the northern regions be resolved—so the public could rest easy.
They were even offering discounted blessings to those still feeling uneasy.
‘Maybe it’s not the hero that reassured them, but the fact that the temple kept doing business…’
Satin, fairly skeptical, stepped forward.
The party was headed for the southwest gate. That area was particularly crowded—so much so that carts couldn’t even get through. That’s why Satin and the others were forcing their way through the throng on foot.
“Ugh, I’m dying here.”
When they finally reached a point where they could see the southwest gate, Rita let out a groan. Satin didn’t even have the energy to respond. Stuck in the middle of the crowd, he couldn’t break free—until Cain reached out and yanked him out.
“Th-Thanks.”
“What the hell kind of dumb shit is this?”
“Haha…”
Cain, the one who was supposed to become a real hero, seemed visibly displeased with the situation. When they left the temple earlier, he had looked somewhat spaced out, calm even—but after seeing the packed streets, he’d reverted right back to his usual sour disposition.
Satin found himself wondering again why he had been chosen as the hero. Though he’d only been thinking about it for a couple of hours, give or take.
‘Maybe it’s because I’m like some kind of connecting link.’
The story had already gone off the rails before Satin even arrived in this world. Because the original Satin had saved Cain, Cain ended up walking a path completely opposite of what was supposed to happen during the Dark Age.
‘That’s why I suddenly became important.’
Satin was a character who should’ve vanished long ago. But now, he was clinging to the very center of the narrative. One could argue that Cain was only dragged into this mess because of Satin. Cain had never wanted to get involved in anything—but here he was, all because Satin had pushed for it.
‘Under the excuse of “protecting a friend”…’
But did Cain even understand what the word “friend” meant? Even if you owed someone your life, there was no reason to stick to them this persistently. If it weren’t for that damn life debt, none of this would’ve happened.
‘He causes the trouble, and I’m the one cleaning it up.’
Satin tried blaming the original version of himself—but of course, that didn’t help anything. And as he continued blaming, he started to feel guilty instead. His half-baked rationality was now stirring up vulnerable emotions.
‘He was only in his early teens back then…’
Though it had deviated from the original story, what the first Satin did was ultimately a good deed. After all, hadn’t he tried to save Cain and the other children from the hands of that wicked Black Magician?
Thinking of it that way, there was no reason to resent him. If anything, he should be the one carrying the guilt.
Though he hadn’t chosen this body for himself, ㅇㅇ had become Satin without paying any price at all. He hadn’t suffered in the slightest.
‘It’s like he did all the suffering and I just reaped the rewards… No, not ‘like’—that’s exactly what it is.’
To top it off, he’d devotedly taken care of the vicious Black Magician for the past four years. He hadn’t known, of course, but still—he ended up doing evil to the good, and good to the evil.
‘They already said the virtue I built up was pitiful… What if I’m in the red now…’
A man who should have reaped his karmic punishment had instead suddenly become a hero. It was mortifying beyond words.
“Hoo…”
As Satin let out a heavy sigh, Cain glanced down at him.
“Already tired?”
“No, I’m fine. Just… lost in thought.”
Cain narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. But Satin only gave a halfhearted smile and said nothing more.
‘Poor Cain.’
He didn’t even know his friend was gone, and here he was, doing all this annoying crap for a fake. It would be nice if, someday, that bundle of feathers showed up for Cain too—to give him some kind of reward.
Cain looked at Satin for a moment, then suddenly spoke.
“If you get tired, just say so.”
“And then what?”
“I’ll carry you.”
“N-No, it’s fine. I won’t get tired.”
Startled, Satin waved him off. Cain gave a faint smile—it must have been a joke. Satin laughed weakly in response.
Knowing that this kindness wasn’t even meant for him made something sting deep in his chest.
‘If only I really were the original Satin.’
***
The southwest gate officer personally escorted the party all the way outside the gates. Cain found the courtesy to be more than a little excessive.
‘Weren’t they always saying the royal family shouldn’t get involved in administrative affairs?’
Cain didn’t know much about politics, nor did he care to—but he had picked up a few things along the way. Back when he was trying to understand why the Black Magician’s subjugation had been handled so poorly four years ago, he’d ended up learning bits and pieces.
As Edward once explained, the Grand Temple and the royal family had a deeply intertwined relationship. They were originally the same entity at the founding of the kingdom and only split later, which is why the royal family still shared the same ideology as the clergy.
On the other hand, the administrative institutions—like the city governments—though they served the crown, didn’t necessarily align with the temple’s ideals. The bureaucrats, regardless of their personal faith, generally believed it was dangerous for the temple to wield too much influence over the public. After all, a power that derived from human belief was all too easily corrupted.
As the world moved away from an age where faith was a given, the power of the temple had steadily waned. And with it, so too had the royal family’s authority. Some people even predicted that, with enough time, the monarchy would be reduced to nothing more than a symbolic relic.
Still—
‘It’s hard to keep your head high when you’re face-to-face with actual royalty.’
The gate officer was bowing so low it made even Rita frown.
“As expected of Your Highness. We heard tales of your brilliance even in your youth, and now you stand tall, protecting the citizens of our capital—no, our entire kingdom.”
“You flatter me. I haven’t saved anyone yet.”
“There’s no way Your Highness would fail—so I daresay you already have, haha!”
The officer’s boisterous laugh rang out, but it lacked any sincerity. He likely thought Rita wouldn’t pick up on the excessive flattery. Older men often made that mistake.
‘Still, he’s not wrong to be hedging his bets with us.’
Cain had never once believed the prophecy was real. He always thought it was some scheme by the temple bastards to manipulate the masses. That hadn’t changed—not even up until yesterday.
But now, just a little—just a little—he was starting to wonder if maybe it was real. Ever since that old priest had named Satin as the hero.
There were countless others they could’ve chosen, yet they picked Satin. They even claimed that the trials had been set in motion just to reveal him. To Cain, that sounded like the gods were playing favorites.
‘If there really is a god…’
He was sure there wasn’t—but if, by some chance, there was…
‘Then of course they’d choose Satin.’
***
They didn’t need to climb all the way to the top of the Rocky Mountains to find the source of the suspicious smoke. Amid the smoke slithering around the foothills, a strange passage had appeared. It was so bizarre that Satin couldn’t help thinking:
‘This feels like something out of a sci-fi movie…’
There was clearly a sloped hill beyond the smoke, but the passage completely ignored it, cutting downward into the earth instead. In a fantasy world, it looked like a dimensional portal to another realm. In sci-fi, it was the spitting image of a space-time warp gate.
“Has anyone gone inside?”
Peering in, Rita asked the question. The southwest gate officer, who had guided them this far, answered politely.
“One of the villagers from a nearby town who evacuated this morning went inside,” the officer said.
“Did they make it out safely?” Rita asked.
“They came out, yes—but they were terrified. Claimed they saw a Long…”
“A Long?” Rita tilted her head in confusion as the officer rubbed his chin, eyes drifting in thought.
“Yes. A long serpent with horns and legs—what else could it be but a Long?”
Listening from behind, Satin found himself puzzled. Why were there Longs in this world?
‘Shouldn’t it be a “dragon” if it’s this kind of world?’
It was practically an unwritten rule. Western-style fantasy had “dragons,” while Eastern-style fantasy had “longs” (Korean/Chinese-style dragons). By all accounts, this world leaned more toward a Western fantasy setting—so why a long? The creature the officer described definitely sounded like one, though.
Rita pressed further, “Did they say anything else?”
“They said… as they were running out in a panic, they heard a voice behind them. A very strange, eerie voice. And what it said…”
The officer paused, drawing out the suspense. Impatient, Rita scowled and urged him on.
“What did it say?”
“It said… that the master of evil would punish you foolish humans…”
