Just as the monster opened its jaws to unleash a barrage of spikes, Seo-ha threw himself over Han Ju-oh, shielding him with his entire body. He was terrified—if Ju-oh got hurt again, what if he never woke up?
There was a time when he’d felt useless, crushed under the weight of his rank, consumed by the shame of being a Guide deemed unworthy. But now that he’d freed himself from that obsession, the only thing that haunted him was his failure to protect Han Ju-oh.
‘Just this once.’
If he could protect Han Ju-oh this one time, then it didn’t matter what happened to him. It pained him that they couldn’t survive together, but if someone had to be sacrificed, he wanted it to be himself.
He’d witnessed too many people collapse before his eyes. The pain, the injustice, the lingering regrets etched into their faces—those expressions had branded themselves into his memory, one by one, never to fade. So when his time came… what would he feel?
Maybe just the bitter regret of not having had more time with Han Ju-oh.
At least he’d experienced something he thought he never would—a high matching rate, an Imprint. Wanting more than that would just be greed.
‘There were still things I wanted to do…’
He’d wanted to match ranks with Han Ju-oh, to give him more energy…
Seo-ha held Ju-oh tighter, bracing himself for the attack that could come at any second, pouring his energy into him. If this was the end, he wanted to give it all. Everything. Even after giving everything, he still wished he could give more.
Then—something strange happened. It felt like something burst inside him, and in the next moment, a surge of overwhelming energy exploded through his body. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt. The energy rose like a tidal wave, consuming him entirely before flooding into Han Ju-oh with such force that it felt like it might sweep him away too.
The impact was so great that Han Ju-oh’s body, wrapped in Seo-ha’s arms, shuddered violently. The monster, sensing the shift, took it as an attack—and finally fired its spikes.
A chill crept up Seo-ha’s spine. He squeezed his eyes shut. Any moment now, the spikes would pierce his back. He had no idea how long he could stay conscious…
“I love you, Han Ju-oh.”
He had just enough time to say those final words, feeling the warmth of Ju-oh’s body one last time.
Flash.
Seo-ha woke with a jolt.
“You awake?”
His eyes fluttered open, trying to focus. The drifting blue sky wasn’t there. Instead, there was a white ceiling with sharp, clean lines. The steady beep of medical equipment and the sharp scent of disinfectant told him he was in a hospital.
“Are you seriously okay? You’ve been out for over a day.”
“Roi…”
His voice came out hoarse, his throat raw and dry. His body felt unbearably heavy. But even so, he felt relief. It didn’t matter how rough his voice sounded or how weighed down his limbs were—it was proof he was still alive.
“I really almost died.”
“Is that seriously the first thing out of your mouth? You think we didn’t know how close you were? And why the hell did you go in there, just the two of you—”
Moon Roi, who had been holding it all in, finally snapped—spilling out all his pent-up worry, then cursing whoever was responsible for letting it get that far.
“What about Ju-oh?”
“He’s getting checked up. He’ll be back soon.”
Seo-ha had assumed from the start that the other bed in this two-person room belonged to Han Ju-oh. Judging by the slight lightness in Roi’s voice, it sounded like Ju-oh’s condition wasn’t too bad. Seo-ha let his eyes drift shut again, reconnecting the broken thread of memory from that day.
At the moment when the monster’s spikes should’ve torn through his back, time had seemed to stop. When no pain came, no matter how long he waited, Seo-ha had turned his head—and there it was: a wall of wind, formed by Ju-oh’s outstretched hand.
The barrier was invisible. What Seo-ha actually saw were countless spikes suspended midair. That’s when it clicked—Ah, Ju-oh created a wind barrier.
“How did you…?”
“I don’t know either.”
Seo-ha, still reeling and trying to make sense of what had happened, hadn’t gotten a real explanation from Ju-oh either.
“My power came back. I just… wanted to protect you.”
Ju-oh said he hadn’t planned it—he’d just moved on instinct. The bluish tint from the poison that had stained his lips was fading. Color was returning to his face. He wasn’t fully recovered yet, but something had changed.
And Seo-ha could feel it too—his Guiding energy had grown. Drastically. His rank had changed.
“Baek Seo-ha.”
As he was still mulling over everything that had happened, Moon Roi called out to him.
“Congratulations.”
“Is that for surviving? No present or anything?”
Seo-ha looked at his hands as he joked, and Roi’s face twitched. He debated ignoring him and just walking out, but gave in with a sigh.
“Once you’re fully recovered, I’ll buy you anything.”
“You better. If you don’t keep that promise, our friendship’s officially in danger, got it?”
“You think I’m you? The guy who promised beef and then grilled leftovers from home? You’ve got some nerve, acting all smug. Should I just rip that smug little mouth off your face?”
Moon Roi pretended to pinch and twist Seo-ha’s lips. Exhausted and unable to lift a finger, Seo-ha only stuck out his lips even more, making it worse on purpose.
Their bickering came to a sudden halt as the door opened. Heavy footsteps approached, and Seo-ha turned his head.
“…Wow.”
Seo-ha’s mouth fell open the moment he saw Han Ju-oh.
“Don’t they have larger hospital gowns?”
At the question, Moon Roi shook his head with a helpless sigh.
“Maybe if we move to a different hospital, they’ll have something that fits.”
“Seriously, what kind of gown looks like it’s about to burst at the seams?”
The sleeves were visibly too short, struggling to contain Ju-oh’s broad shoulders, and the buttons across his chest were stretched so tight they looked ready to pop. It was laughable—except it wasn’t. The only reason it looked like that was because his body was so ridiculously well-built.
Still, for someone who had just survived a life-or-death battle, he didn’t seem to have a single visible injury. That alone brought Seo-ha an overwhelming sense of relief. He continued staring, dazed, until Ju-oh strode up and suddenly wrapped him in a firm embrace.
“Ack—!”
Being hugged while sitting was one thing, but Seo-ha was lying down. Ju-oh pressed down from above, practically smothering him, and Seo-ha let out a strangled noise as the air was forced from his lungs.
“Are you trying to knock me unconscious again?”
It was his way of asking for some breathing room, but Ju-oh only hugged him tighter.
“Baek Seo-ha… I’m sorry I made you worry.”
“And how would you know I was worried? More importantly—can you let go of my arms…?”
“I know you tried to protect me. That you were ready to die for me.”
“Wow. I didn’t even say anything, and you figured that out? Great. Then maybe now you could figure out something else…”
Seo-ha muttered, still unable to push Ju-oh off. He’d survived near-death, only to be crushed here and now.
“You’re going to suffocate me…”
Only when Seo-ha’s voice came out tight and strained did Ju-oh finally loosen his arms. But he didn’t back away. Instead, he hovered just above, eyes locked with Seo-ha’s.
“I love you.”
Seo-ha, who had only just managed to catch his breath, froze. The quiet, sincere confession stopped his lungs cold.
“Let’s love each other for a long, long time.”
Ju-oh held his gaze, every word heavy with sincerity.
***
At the new hospital they’d been transferred to, someone unexpected was waiting to greet them.
“These must be my juniors.”
Guide Jang Jin-young welcomed them with open arms.
It was their first meeting since Seo-ha had carried him out of the dungeon, unconscious. A bandage still wrapped around his head, but otherwise he looked healthy. Seeing that, Seo-ha broke into a warm smile and returned the hug.
“I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“It’s all thanks to you, Seo-ha. They were able to operate right away, and the doctors say I’ll have no lasting effects.”
He spoke with calm and ease, mentioning the brain surgery as if it had been nothing. That peaceful tone reassured Seo-ha more than anything.
“Let’s get you to your room.”
Jang Jin-young even helped guide him to the bed and gently eased him down. It wasn’t exactly a picture-perfect reunion—but they were all alive. That made it possible.
Seo-ha sank into the mattress with a long sigh. They’d been in a hospital near the Gate just hours ago, and now they were suddenly here, with barely any time to rest in between. His body felt like lead. In the dungeon, he hadn’t had the chance to think about how much pain he was in, but now that he’d gone through every test imaginable, the results were… dire.
His pinky had been immobilized. His ankle, wrapped in thick bandages, had torn ligaments. Inflammation levels were high, his whole body swollen. Even his arm muscles and vocal cords were damaged. He was, quite literally, in pieces.
But even so—he didn’t mind. It could all be healed. And Han Ju-oh was alive. That was enough.
He stared up at the ceiling for a long moment before suddenly sitting up.
“Huh? What is it? Do you need anything?”
Guide Jang Jin-young rushed over, still gripping his IV stand, ready to help with whatever Seo-ha needed. Seeing that flustered response, Moon Roi—who had been quietly watching from nearby—bit his lip, struggling not to laugh.
“I need to get up. There’s something I need to check.”
The reason Seo-ha had agreed to be transferred here, even while pushing his broken body beyond its limits—
He needed to get his Guide rank reassessed.
