LTTH C16

Chapter 16

With the keen gaze of a hawk surveying his surroundings, a splendid display of Magery began to assail the Lich. They were Mages from the Mage Tower. One could scarcely believe they had concealed their full strength until now; their assault caused the Lich’s movements to falter momentarily.

Lich, bearer of magic resistance, versus the Mages of the Mage Tower.

Though the spells dispatched at the Lich vanished with the swiftness of shattered glass, the dazzling spectacle of magic showed no sign of ceasing—prompting a murmured exclamation of admiration.

In the end, it was the Mages who prevailed. Amid the ceaseless onslaught of spells, the very sound of the Lich’s magic resistance crumbling echoed across the void.

Crack—

[Curse you fiends!]

Was the Lich’s bony form scratched? The voice seethed with rage and tainted the air with darkness. Fortunately, that curse-laden voice did not reach the hunters nearby—Hansol and all others stood within the boundary of purified ground. Yet, this offered no true respite.

“Please, do hurry.”

Anxiously, the young man wielded his glowing wooden sword, cleaving skeleton after skeleton. The crawling monsters vanished one by one until only two or three remained. When the young man dispatched the last, the yellow experience bar filled completely.

Level Up.

Sixteen. A level at which no new skill was unlocked, nor any significant change realized. The sole alteration was the addition of a solitary skill point.

“Movement!”

“Be cautious! Retreat further inside!”

Just as the Mages’ rain of spells momentarily abated, the Lich lingering in the void grew faint and ghostlike, sliding forward. Its destination was unmistakably clear.

Hansol and the young man enveloped in white radiance—the sole healer and the newly awakened Holy Knight—were the focus from the very beginning. The Lich’s gaze never wavered, as if it were a being only waiting to be erased.

‘A monstrosity indeed.’

Gate. Monster. Hunter. Familiarities forged over long years, and yet in moments like these, he always wished to return to when nothing existed.

“Sanctuary Declaration!”

A Sanctuary has been declared.

The sanctuary is designated around the caster.

Current range: 5 meters, duration: 20 minutes.

Divine Power stat has increased by 1 point.

“The range…”

It was unlike before. The declared Sanctuary was smaller in range and shorter in duration. This was likely due to having expended but a single skill point, unlike previous occasions. However, the problem lay in Hansol’s position.

Having cast the skill at the edge of the purified ground, the golden radiance spread from him, yet could not fully encompass the outskirts. The golden glow enveloped half the luminous ground, gently pushing the Lich back and sustaining itself. Though not vast, its effect was far from negligible.

Particles of light drifted through the air, and as the Lich was pushed back, the tumultuous crowd fell swiftly silent. Just as in England, all eyes fixed upon the singular point. It needed no question—everyone knew who had wrought this phenomenon.

The one who had refused surrender even amid despair. The sole healer who had entered this Gate.

“…Me, Shia.”

Unlike before in England, Hansol’s attire bore no mark of a healer. Simply garbed in common clothes, he could easily be mistaken for a mere civilian. Yet the golden radiance swathing him suffused a sanctity beyond adornment.

[How dare you.]

Light and shadow.

The contrasting hues divided sharply at the border of Hansol’s Sanctuary. The Lich exhaled black energy into the air, yet not a single step could it take within the Sanctuary. The once pitch-black earth blanched snowy white upon becoming sanctified.

A safe haven, scrubbing away all that was unholy—this was the essence of Hansol’s Sanctuary.

“Truly remarkable.”

“Oh, no.”

A Mage, eyes wide with awe, approached, absorbing the golden glow surrounding Hansol. He shook his head vigorously—a silent plea for Hansol’s disregard. Though it was clear the man harbored not the slightest intention of withdrawing.

“A Sanctuary, you say. I know not where to begin inquiry, but surely our first task is to depart from hence.”

The wounds upon the hunters within the Sanctuary had mended cleanly, even the one appearing as a prosperous hunter bore no fatal injuries. This was providence. Yet the tension differed from England’s ambiance.

‘What are those eyes…’

He shivered at the covetous glances, as though they sought to consume him whole. Though some bore envy, curiosity, or reverence, such souls were few indeed.

Were it not for the protective spells the Mage cast nearby—and the Holy Knight shielding at his side—Hansol might well have been seized by these very eyes.

“Let us remove the nuisance swiftly and withdraw.”

The Mage, pressing close, muttered as he gazed heavenward. The Lich, drifting through the Sanctuary’s glow, fixed its blazing red eyes upon Hansol. Though the murderous intent turned his body stiff, he remained steadfast. None here could harm him within the Sanctuary—this truth alone was unwavering.

‘…Though the time limit is troublesome.’

Only twenty minutes remained. Within this span, the Lich must be slain for survival. Having just leveled, Hansol had no skill points to spare. Slaying the Lich before this Sanctuary expired was his only chance.

“Worry not.”

The momentary unease at the ticking time lessened.

“[Bow of the Skies].”

The Mage’s composed voice rang out, arcane symbols of a complex script embroidered themselves midair, gradually coalescing into the form of a woman. She materialized, casting pure white light, before forging a bow made of the same light and releasing an arrow at the Lich.

Neither too swift nor too languid, the arrow was splendid but did not seem capable of felling the Lich in one blow. Yet, when the bluish-white arrow pierced the Lich’s head and vanished,

[Impossi…ble…]

The Lich’s voice dispersed faintly alongside scattering fragments of bone. A one-shot, one-kill—the kind of scene seen only in games unfolded before Hansol’s very eyes.

‘Remarkable.’

To think someone lived as though life were but a game. Hansol had struggled to level up and used up twenty minutes of precious skill points. Yet here, with the wave of a Mage’s hand, it was all over. A hollow end indeed.

The Gate has been cleared.

Rewards are being distributed according to contribution.

A return portal has been created.

Hansol calmly watched as the red ring left in the Lich’s stead expanded, giving birth to the return portal. He then redefined the man’s stature in his mind—from a cumbersome troublemaker to one to be absolutely avoided.

“At last!”

“The return portal!”

“We’re saved! We’ve survived!”

As people embraced one another while turning toward the portal,

Hunters cast lingering glances of reluctant admiration or envy and moved toward the return portal.

Hansol remained rooted in place like a statue. Though he longed to cry, “Indeed!” and rush forward,

“…Do drop this hand of mine.”

Had it not been for the grasp upon his wrist, he might well have done so.

“I fear if I let go, you might run away.”

“……”

Such keen perception left Hansol no room to deny. “Ha ha,” the man chuckled, adding,

“As you have cleared the Gate as stated, I shall grant you some time. Thus, I implore you to release your hand.”

“Oh, truly, my thanks! I shall not squander this precious time.”

Could it be so? Hansol could hardly comprehend the man’s exuberant joy upon receiving such reluctant permission. He was but Level 16. Though the man could not know Hansol’s level, and was aware only of his unusual nature as a healer, that was the extent of it.

His low level and limited skills paled before high-level healers. By comparison, he would be an object of scorn. Hansol had always known his place, whether then or now.

“Hmm, it seems you do not grasp your own worth, Healer.”

“…I am well aware.”

In response to Hansol’s soft words, the man smiled without a word. Though silent, that smile seemed to say, “Not at all.” Hansol felt a strange sensation.

‘Certainly, I am far from high-level healers.’

Rankers wielded healing skills that could revive the near-dead and save lives multiple times over. Compared to them, Hansol was still distant indeed.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

“Ah.”

The man who had grasped Hansol’s hand now bowed apologetically and added verve to his voice. Before Hansol could even withdraw his hand, the hexagram—a symbol of the Mage Tower—glowed blue beneath their feet, encircling them both.

No—

“Healer! Wait a moment!”

The young Holy Knight swiftly joined, and the three were enveloped together before vanishing, leaving only a lingering blue glow.

Within the cleared Gate shone the land Hansol had purified, brilliant and radiant. The Sanctuary remained, glowing resplendently until its duration’s end.