At Sehyun’s words, Jenon quietly closed his eyes. When the spear in his grip struck the floor with a loud clang, his eyes reopened.
“Go. Whatever it is, I will believe in that will. No matter what cause it may be, I will follow it. So please, make a choice you will never regret. That alone is enough for me.”
That alone is enough.
Hearing those words, Sehyun gave a bitter smile, then nodded.
“This is as far as I can help you.”
Jenon hurled his spear with full force toward one of the buildings below the bridge of the corridor. At the same time, the rope tied to the spear shaft followed along as it flew.
It was the same rope Sehyun had used to climb up here earlier, the one he hadn’t managed to retrieve. The spear pierced through the building’s roof and lodged itself firmly. Jenon tugged on the rope several times to make sure it was secure, then tied it tightly to the bridge railing.
“Go.”
Sehyun drew a dagger he had taken from the treasury out of his inventory. He hooked the sheathed blade onto the rope and tested its movement—it slid smoothly enough for him to ride it down.
With his mask back on, Sehyun glanced once more at Jenon. Perhaps reading the worry in his eyes, Jenon gave a faint smile.
“Have you forgotten? Unlike you, I can resurrect. Even if I die… as long as you exist, I will return to life countless times.”
Sehyun opened his mouth to say something, then simply nodded. Every time he saw his heroes treat their lives lightly just because they could be revived, the same ache and frustration welled up inside him. He never thought he’d have to see that same self-sacrificing resolve again—here, of all places.
“Jenon. Until I come back, you must stay alive. Do not die.”
“Yes.”
As the reply overlapped with the echoing blare of a war horn, Sehyun gripped the dagger firmly and leaped down along the rope before anyone could catch him. The wind rushed past him as his lithe body slid down swiftly.
“Find the intruder first.”
“What about contacting the Daegong?”
“Not yet.”
“A rope tied to the spire bridge has been found! Rope confirmed!”
“All units, prepare to fire.”
The Empire stirred into chaos at the report of an intruder. Soon, the flickering searchlights followed the rope down and illuminated the roof where Sehyun was descending. The search squad had found the trail.
The moment his feet touched the ground, Sehyun activated <Feather Sound LV.1> and began sprinting across the rooftops in silence. The search squad quickly followed, and the guards waiting below also began to move upon receiving their signal.
Sehyun pulled out the ‘Brooch of the Formless’ from his inventory and fastened it to his chest. The rushing wind pricked at his hands several times before he finally managed to secure it. Once attached, he turned the brooch to the left, activating the Formless Shield—a consumable that perfectly blocked three attacks.
Chaaeng—!
Almost instantly, an arrow shot from behind struck the invisible barrier. Without time to even flinch, Sehyun vaulted off a lower roof and slipped behind a shadowed building.
Once the rooftops had grown lower, he dropped fully to the ground. The clattering of armored boots was now unnervingly close.
‘Sound… I have to kill the sound.’
If he were discovered here, he would die instantly. He couldn’t allow himself to be captured, either. Sehyun bit down on the cloth of his mask to muffle his breathing, moving silently through narrow, dark alleys.
By the time his lungs began to burn and his vision blurred, the bell tower he’d desperately hoped to reach finally came into sight. Only then did Sehyun pull the cloth from his mouth and gasp for air. Cold sweat streamed down his face like rain; his mind was hazy, his limbs trembling and weak.
His stamina had reached its limit. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forced his shaky legs to move.
But just then, the sound of metal clinking echoed behind him—followed immediately by an arrow slamming into his Formless Shield.
Chaeng—!!
Sehyun instinctively turned his head. About fifty meters behind, three scouts were aiming arrows directly at him. Less than ten paces ahead stood the portal.
Just a few steps more. If he jumped, he could make it through. Sehyun twisted his body and sprinted. Two arrows flew silently, slicing through the air to strike his back and leg.
Just a little further…
Through the quaking of his blurred vision, he saw the last step before him. In that fleeting instant, a chill of dread ran up his spine.
The warning that stabbed his skin became reality as the shield shattered with a crack. A moment later, a searing pain tore through his thigh.
He might have screamed. Between the screams, he heard the wet sound of flesh splitting and blood splattering onto the floor.
His swaying vision sank rapidly. Reaching forward, Sehyun stretched his hand toward the portal. The light curling around his fingertips seemed to whisper that it would save him. Comforted by that warmth, he closed his eyes. The next moment, the portal swallowed his body whole.
All that remained there was a dark pool of blood soaking the floor.
***
The man holding a quill froze the moment the horn sounded. Yet he soon resumed writing, unconcerned. His hand only stopped again when the horn blared a second time and someone knocked on his office door.
Knock, knock—
[Daegong, you should come out. A messenger wishes to discuss an incident involving Sir Jenon related to the intruder.]
“Report location?”
[The bell tower.]
“I will come shortly.”
The Daegong set down his quill and rose. Behind him stretched a pair of wings split in two—half black, half white. His eyes mirrored that contrast: one gleaming gold, the other jet black.
The dual-colored gaze was chilling. Though he appeared languid and bored, every blink leaked a trace of a savage nature barely contained.
He walked out of his office with slow, measured steps. By the time he reached the bell tower, the knight commander Lloyd, who was overseeing the scene, was already there talking with Baron, a member of the Criminal Investigation Department.
“Ah, Daegong.”
“You’ve arrived.”
Both Lloyd and Baron bowed respectfully. Without a word, the Daegong brushed past them and approached the site where investigators were examining a pool of blood.
One side of the area was charred black—perhaps from mana stone combustion. The trail of blood ended abruptly, as if sliced clean through. The Daegong looked down at the dark puddle in silence, then shifted his golden-and-black gaze toward Lloyd.
That look sent a chill down Lloyd’s spine.
“Where was he hit?”
“They say it pierced the thigh.”
“The thigh… What kind of arrow was used?”
“Ora.”
Ora. A formless arrow infused with energy far deadlier than any ordinary bolt—so destructive that mere contact could tear through flesh and shred muscle completely.
The Daegong’s cold eyes curved into a faint smile. A low, humorless laugh followed. Then, in the next breath, his tone turned glacial.
“Ora-grade means a warrior rank. Since they intended to kill, they’ll spend some time in the underground prison of Ultar. Lock them all away.”
Lloyd’s brow twitched. The Daegong was known for his cold temperament, but he never punished without reason. Whenever he wielded his authority, there was always purpose—and it was always for the Empire.
Even so, Lloyd had never felt so conflicted. The guards had only done their duty. Intruders were always met with lethal response; they had merely acted by conviction. Yet now, that duty would cost them dearly.
Still, he could only accept it with a stiff face. If the Daegong decreed punishment, there had to be a reason. And given the situation—Sir Jenon now under suspicion of treason—defending the guards would be impossible.
“What about Sir Jenon?”
“Treason, is it? Quite the charge for a hero. He knew what he was doing. Send him to the underground prison as well.”
“…Yes.”
With a heavy heart, Lloyd withdrew. The Daegong lowered his gaze again to the blood pooled on the ground, then spoke curtly to Baron, the investigator waiting nearby.
“Take only the amount necessary for analysis.”
“Yes, I will send samples to all departments.”
The Daegong gave a brief nod and raised his hand toward the air. With a light motion, the blood that had soaked the floor lifted, solidified into the air. He handed a small portion to Baron and began rolling the rest through the air as he walked toward the point where the blood trail had abruptly ended.
He reached out his hand—but touched nothing. Only the feel of empty air. Yet there was something there. The air was thick, heavy, dense against his skin.
It clung to him—or perhaps pushed against him. The Daegong’s eyes narrowed sharply.
“…Blood?”