LTTH C17

Chapter 17

1. Messiah? 

The cycles of life repeated endlessly. Since the day hunters and Gates first appeared, the world had flowed on, calm if uneventful.

Yet on the morning of October the 30th, the world was stirred by a most tumultuous piece of news.

The cause of this commotion was an article published on the hunters’ community known as <H.T>, a portal for their communication and discourse.

[There was a Messiah there.]

The article, bearing a somewhat religious title, rapidly ascended in popularity, drawing the highest views before spreading across the world.

[There was a Messiah there.]

[Read more]

On the evening of October 29th at 7:13 PM (Korean Standard Time), a newly formed Gate—invisible to the Association—arose before the Hunter Association in Korea.

That Gate, akin to a disaster, swept up countless innocent civilians. The sole mild relief was that hunters of the Association had entered alongside them.

Yet the newly formed Gate was a spawning ground for undead, and the Association deemed it impossible to clear by the humans within alone. Few hunters dared to enter Gates infested with such foes.

As hope waned and despair seeped in, a figure emerged among the ordinary civilians — the ‘Messiah.’

[Attached: Picture of the Messiah (Illustration)]

With light emanating from his fingertips, the sticky earth transformed into luminous ground, and the Healing Light radiated across the Gate’s expanse.

Far more than these feats alone, which distinguished him from a mere ordinary healer, the one thus dubbed Messiah—the title soon to become his epithet—possessed powers beyond imagining.

He moved to the very frontlines, extending his hand, and was enveloped in a radiant golden light that embroidered the world.

Hunters affiliated with the Association who bore witness to the wonder declared it a sight unforgettable for a lifetime.

Moreover, the golden radiance halted the advance of the Grade A boss monster—the Lich, for this new Gate was classified as a final Grade A Gate—and healed the wounds of both civilians and hunters.

Indeed, it was a Sanctuary in the purest sense—a manifestation perfectly matching the powers attributed to the Messiah by those hunters.

…(Omitted)…

Until that moment, the world of healers—a realm inhabited by hunters ranked among the elite—remained mired in some form of stasis.

Hunters capable of clearing Grade A Gates and beyond were few, and the number of skilled, high-ranking hunters each nation held was fixed.

The arrival of the Messiah heralded transformation to this realm. Yet, despite such a magnificent debut, none could discern his true identity.

Was he truly the reclusive master only found within the pages of myth?

Or, as rumor held, a hunter cultivated in secret by the Association with the utmost care?

No one could say for certain.

But one fact shone clear: at this very moment, when rankers from the world over were petitioning to enter Korea, the hunter, guild, or nation to claim the Messiah would dictate the future of the hunter world.

—H.T Exclusive Reporter, Herrington

<Messiah>.

This epithet, bearing the meaning of ‘savior,’ began to spread in place of Hansol’s true name.

Though but an article posted in the morning, it was by no means ordinary—indeed, it originated from the hunter community. The influence wielded by the global hunter community was not to be underestimated.

“A reporter from H.T, no less. Surely this cannot be false.”

“So the Sanctuary truly exists? If it exists, the higher Gates might now…”

“Indeed. Clearing them would be far simpler and could outpace other guilds.”

Guilds across nations vied to claim the ‘Messiah’ to ascend higher.

“Beyond the Sanctuary, the other skills are astonishing too.”

“If Healing Light reaches ten meters…”

“Likely the other skills as well.”

Hunters sought to capture the ‘Messiah’ to grow stronger. A fierce contest for the savior had begun to kindle its flames.

Yet while the world’s hunters warmed with fervor, Hansol found himself ensnared in a perplexing predicament, unaware of the outer world’s clamour.

“Where exactly did you say I was to go?”

“To the Mage Tower.”

“Ha.”

A laugh of disbelief escaped him. The man bathed in sunlight through the window appeared so luminous that it seemed a dream rather than reality.

‘What nonsense is this?’

When he was forcibly taken from the Gate earlier, Hansol had suspected foul intent. Yet those suspicions seemed baseless now—upon arrival at the Mage Tower by teleportation, the man had graciously ushered Hansol and the Holy Knight youth to their chambers to rest.

Though Hansol remained wary, fatigue soon overpowered him, and he fell into a deep slumber, only to awaken later to find himself once more in company with the wizard. The Holy Knight youth had yet to awaken, but that was of no concern presently.

The proposal laid before Hansol that very morning was truly baffling.

‘Come to the Mage Tower?’

He could not fathom the man’s intent. It was certain this man was far from sane.

What was the Mage Tower? A tower of wizards, known colloquially as the Mage Tower—a place not by any means open to all. Far more exclusive than the Association itself, entry was granted only after scrutiny by seven elders to those wizards who were exceptional or possessed some peculiar ability.

The Mage Tower’s wizards were not esteemed without reason; all regard was founded in merit.

Yet to propose that a mere ‘healer’ be admitted to such a place—none could have conceived of a more preposterous suggestion. Hansol was not even a wizard.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I do not mean for you, Hansol, to study wizardry or to become a mage.”

How he discovered that, he could not say. The man, calling him by name in such a friendly tone, smiled serenely.

‘Naturally.’

Hunters generally relied lifelong on the class to which they first awakened, and even those who awakened to classes unwelcome by their desires could not change this fate.

“My only purpose is to propose this because I foresee great difficulty in your future path.”

“Pray, what do you mean by that?”

“Judging by your reaction, it seems you have not yet read the article on H.T.”

“There is something on the hunter community?”

The man shrugged lightly, as if granting Hansol space for contemplation. Hansol, brow furrowed, retrieved his smartphone with reluctant air. Was the man confident that after this pause Hansol would be swayed to accept? The confidence on the wizard’s countenance was unmistakable.

What could be the affair to warrant such urgency? Was there some hidden agenda? Hansol fixed the man with a steady gaze. Calm as ever, Hansol averted his eyes and launched the H.T application. A word caught his eye among the day’s hottest topics.

[There was a Messiah there.]

‘…A Messiah?’

Surely not. It could not be. Could it?

“……”

Hansol’s eyes scanned the article. It could be none other than his story. Many who had been present in the newly formed Gate had undoubtedly submitted reports.

The only consolation was that, despite the repeated use of the word ‘Messiah,’ the identity of the figure remained shrouded and unclear. Yet how long could that mystery endure?

Firstly, there were far too many hunters affiliated with the Association present. Secondly, Hansol himself was infamously known for a rather different reason.

‘The eternal Level 1.’

That title, now rendered meaningless, still clung to him relentlessly.

“Perhaps it would be more convenient for you to join the Mage Tower.”

“I would find it agreeable as well.”

The man smiled broadly, and Hansol noted that he was unlike any healer encountered before—such a being far beyond the confines of a mere ‘healer.’ His gaze brimmed with newfound goodwill.

Rationally, accepting the wizard’s offer seemed the wisest course. But emotionally, a sense of aversion rose within. The man’s demeanor was free of menace. Yet the suggestion felt like a well-crafted scheme—an inescapable conclusion that yielding to the offer was optimal—which bred discomfort.

“If you hesitate, take all the time you need.”

“Then.”

“The Mage Tower has many rooms ready for you.”

‘If I do not give the answer he desires, he will not let go.’

The man’s soft words betrayed his true design. He had no intent to release Hansol but would hold him until the proposal was accepted. The resolve emanated from his every act and syllable.

“Grant me some time.”