# 52
To open this path, magical power and the ability to process that power into sigils were necessary. It was precisely the power of a magician. It was a power ordinary people couldn’t possess, which was why no thief could have crossed this path.
Because of this, the magic tower was shamelessly arrogant. It was filled with haughty confidence that no thief could ever reach their desired location by overcoming the tower’s bizarre pathways and structures. Thanks to this, Jin-ha was able to come here without being stopped by anyone.
Standing at the edge of the cliff, Jin-ha slowly surveyed his surroundings.
“If they really wanted to prevent intrusion, they shouldn’t have shown me the flow of magical power…”
The moment he took out a pen from his chest and casually drew over the broken line at the tip of his shoe, it happened.
Whoosh—
The magical sigil on his shoes began to operate, consuming the wearer’s magical power. Simultaneously with a faint light rising from beneath his feet, the broken corridor revealed itself up to about three or four steps ahead. Seeing the floor tiles trembling as they appeared, Jin-ha twisted the corner of his mouth into a smile.
His Information Eye showed him exactly how magical power moved, in what shape, and in which direction. If Jin-ha wanted, he could even quantify its speed and angle to read them.
Of course, he wasn’t a magician and had never learned magic, so he didn’t know how to move magical power to draw sigils.
Instead, he had an artifact. It was something that an artifact creator from Cheongju had forcibly given him, telling him to spy on the circuit sigils of the magical devices in the tower when he went there—who knew it would be used like this?
“Good.”
Jin-ha crossed the corridor with a satisfied smile.
Though he had come with confidence, this was his first time trying it. The tension that he might fail somehow had pleasantly dissipated.
Unlike people, the tower’s souls carrying baskets didn’t rest even at night, continuing to transport items. Far away, a faint rainbow was also visible. A rainbow that glowed softly even in darkness with almost no light—it was an unbelievably mysterious sight. Well, the fact that there was a rainbow indoors was surprising from the start.
Next was the turn to tackle the birdcage.
He took out a notebook from his chest and opened its pages.
When Legas entered the birdcage and took steps, there were six steps in total, six magical sigils that resonated with the cage.
Jin-ha had prepared for this moment by drawing those six magical sigils in this notebook. After checking the form of the magical sigils one last time, Jin-ha nodded.
“Hmm, good.”
Jin-ha tore out six sheets of paper from the notebook and placed them on the floor one by one. Then he went out of the birdcage and started to enter again, stepping on them as if crossing stepping stones.
With each step—one, two—as Jin-ha stepped on the magical sigils, the artifact absorbed his magical power and reacted, then resonated with the birdcage.
The flow of magical power, invisible to ordinary eyes, wrapped around the surface of the birdcage with strange movements. Jin-ha continued walking on the papers, completing the six steps of magic, and on the seventh step, he stepped back onto the floor.
After taking a slow deep breath, Jin-ha turned around to see the birdcage beginning to move upward. It was a success. He thought that he might actually have a talent for thievery.
While having these idle thoughts, the birdcage stopped and the door opened.
And a familiar scene unfolded.
“…What is this…?”
Though the scenery was familiar from his many visits, it was simultaneously completely different. Every time he came to this room, there would be a cool breeze flowing, a fierce storm blowing, or warm sunlight shining down.
But now everything seemed to have stopped, quiet and desolate. It wasn’t just the difference between day and night. Though the scene looked bleak and chilly, dyed in a dark blue color under the pale moonlight, there was something more that couldn’t be explained by that alone.
Jin-ha, blankly staring up at the strangely large moon, took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
Clank. The sound of the birdcage closing behind him was heard. Without looking back, Jin-ha slowly walked forward, passing between the spaced-out bookshelves, sofas, and tables.
Tracing the winding path to find the bed, Jin-ha rolled his eyes for a moment before calling out casually.
“Riyekan.”
The tower’s absolute master, who should be able to hear his voice from anywhere, gave no answer. Jin-ha, with a somber expression, scanned the untouched bed and the table full of untouched food. Some of the food was dry, spoiled, and moldy.
‘Master has been sitting in his room like a doll, lost in thought, since that day. Not eating, not drinking, not sleeping. Just quietly lost in thought.’
He was a young man who took it upon himself to be the cook, taking sole responsibility for preparing meals with great care. Legas always closely observed what foods the man enjoyed more and what cooking methods he preferred. All to take care of the man who rarely ate well.
But honestly, Jin-ha found it hard to believe those words. He’d heard that the man was in poor condition from not eating or sleeping, but when Riyekan was with Jin-ha, he ate surprisingly well. Right before returning to Earth, when they last met, hadn’t he devoured a large sandwich in just three bites?
Chocolate bars, candies, and other desserts—the man used to consume them all in an instant.
“…Is this also because of the soul?”
Perhaps it was. It seems his appetite rises when he’s with his soul. It was plausible, given that anxiety reduces appetite.
Jin-ha thought he needed to quickly find the man who must be in terrible shape after not eating for days. The problem was how to find him in this place where the contrast between moonlit areas and shadowed areas was so stark. The darkness was so thick that even if he passed by a table, he might not discover Riyekan if he was curled up in the dark space beneath it.
“Where could he be…?”
Then, the sound of waves crashing brushed past his ears.
The sound of waves piercing through the silence gripped Jin-ha like a scream begging for salvation.
Jin-ha immediately turned toward where the wave sounds were coming from. Since the sound was his only clue, when there was no path, he maintained his direction by climbing over bedside tables or moving desks. Thus, he walked for a long time through the maze of disorderly placed furniture—bookshelves, sofas, tables, and bedside tables.
The sand, already difficult to walk on, became heavier and damper as the sound of waves grew closer. A chilly breeze carrying salt moisture brushed over his skin.
Finally, after finding a narrow gap and crossing to the other side where bookshelves stood like fortress walls, Jin-ha was finally able to find that man.
The man was standing in front of a place where the sound of waves was like the growl of a roaring beast, where the sea looked like the throat of an open-mouthed beast. In the dim moonlight, only the man’s silhouette was barely visible to the eye, and that wobbling figure looked so precarious. It seemed like he would topple into the pitch-black throat if one took their eyes off him for even a moment.
“What on earth are you doing in a place like this?”
Even though Jin-ha shouted in irritation while striding toward him, Riyekan continued to stare at the pitch-black sea as if he hadn’t heard him.
Like a ghost.
Jin-ha urgently snatched the man’s wrist. Only then did light return to the eyes of the deeply immersed man.
“Lee Jin-ha…?”
Jin-ha pulled the man away from the seashore. Riyekan was barefoot, and his ankles were wet with seawater. Whether it was due to the cold seawater or the blue moonlight, the man’s complexion was terribly pale, making it impossible to leave him alone.
“Your hands are cold. What’s happened to you?”
“How did you get here?”
“Really, why are you doing this?”
“Did Legas let you in?”
“Why are you torturing yourself like this…!”
Abruptly, Riyekan stopped. The strength of a man who hadn’t eaten for days was extraordinary, and Jin-ha couldn’t pull him even one step further. After trying to pull a few more times, Jin-ha turned around with a growling sound.
“Move!”
“I like it here.”
“This pitch-black darkness, you mean?”
“When I listen to the sound of waves in the darkness, my mind becomes peaceful. Like eternity.”
Riyekan’s eyes sank again, just like before. They were eyes that didn’t even seek light in the pitch-black darkness. Eyes that didn’t show any resistance, didn’t desire any hope—they seemed familiar, as if they had been keeping that place for a long time already.
Jin-ha couldn’t dare guess what kind of pain was persisting in the mind of this foolish and willful man. He wasn’t clearly sure of what to do either.
But one thing was certain.
Lee Jin-ha was angry. The real Riyekan was someone who played unfunny jokes, subtly seduced, and ate voraciously. He didn’t want to see such a Riyekan looking so pathetic and miserable, wallowing like this.
“Go back, Jin-ha.”
“Why are you doing this?”
While staring directly into those darkly submerged eyes, Jin-ha shouted.
“If you won’t go back on your own.”
Around the man who had already imagined the incomprehension at the end of the conversation and despaired before giving any explanation, magical power swirled.
He was trying to expel him.
The moment he sensed this fact, Jin-ha lunged toward the man.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
