LTTH C25

Chapter 25

A thunderous crash erupted as the black, unidentified silhouette collided with a shield gleaming in gold. From behind, Hansol watched James and the dark figure with desperate, unblinking eyes. If James—known across the world as the number one tank—couldn’t hold the line, then no one else here stood a chance. Surely, everyone present knew that undeniable truth.

“…Please, come this way for a moment!”

The precious seconds James had bought them. Hansol moved swiftly, calling over the stunned rankers who stood frozen in place. One by one, he infused them with blessings, each cast carrying not only mana but also a fervent wish—that they might become even a fraction stronger than that thing, even by a decimal point.

“Wait… you have buffs too?”

“At this rate, it’d be stranger if that tentacle monster wasn’t affected.”

“Wasting away in a small country like this, what a shame.”

“Let’s focus. We take that thing down first—then we can sit down and have a nice, long talk with our healer.”

The useless chatter reached Hansol’s ears, but he forced himself to ignore it. Survival came first. Whatever happened after… that wasn’t his concern.

We have to win.

He had done everything within his power. And yet unease lingered, clawing at his chest. The system had given that being a name—its first named monster—and if the black silhouette truly bore that title, then it was unlike anything they had faced before.

Perhaps, he thought, the access pass granted to him by the system was meant as a precaution for this very day. It was the first time such a thing had appeared. The first named monster. The first time for everything. Perhaps that endless string of firsts had clouded his objectivity.

Maybe that’s why he had forgotten the cardinal rule of gate entry. A gate wasn’t something you entered out of excitement, curiosity, or arrogance. It was the enemy—utterly hostile terrain. That was the reality they now faced.

“Damn… this isn’t going to be easy. Hey, how much longer?”

Even though everyone could feel they were stronger than before, no one was moving. Some hunters stood there in dazed despair, unable to process the overwhelming difference in power, while others desperately tried to assist James—yet, their efforts yielded nothing visible.

At least one thing offered a sliver of hope: the Tower Master, who had been muttering incomprehensible words, finally began to move. He raised both hands forward, and as his eyes shimmered blue, runes swirled violently around his body, glowing and shifting in the air.

“Hansol, please step back.”

“Ah, y-yes.”

It was as though they stood in another dimension. Nothing had yet appeared, but even the wind of its prelude was enough to whip the hem of his robe violently.

It wasn’t the one-shot, one-kill spell Hansol had seen before at the gate in front of the Association. This was heavier—more destructive. The azure runes coalesced into tangible forms, morphing into an indescribable mass that struck the black silhouette before James.

A shattering boom rippled through the ground, climbing up through Hansol’s feet. The world burst into blinding light, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut before slowly opening them again.

James’s golden aura had faded. The Tower Master’s face was drained of all hope. And the black silhouette—not a single scratch on it.

…It’s over.

This was an unwinnable battle. They had to run. Damn it. That ominous feeling he’d shoved deep down now reared its head again.

“…Sehyun?”

“…We have to get out of here.”

It was the young paladin. His once-handsome face had gone pale, as though poisoned. Hansol, held tightly under Sehyun’s arm as they floated in midair, asked quietly—not expecting an answer.

“Where to…?”

“Anywhere.”

But there was only one exit—the gate’s entrance, now sealed shut.

Normally, one could only leave a gate by defeating the monster that held the return portal, or by finding a return stone. Sehyun, of course, knew this. He had only recently awakened as a hunter, but even ordinary people knew that much. Still, he ran as though his life depended on it—because it did.

“Put me down.”

“I can’t.”

“There’s no escape anyway.”

Sehyun’s tone was steady, resolute. Hansol let out a quiet sigh of resignation. It was meaningless resistance, a futile sprint through a dead end.

“We both know it.”

That escape was impossible.

“……”

The words were so brutally honest that silence was the only response. The world blurred around them, yet nothing about their situation changed.

“HAN!! SOL!!”

Even after all that running, James’s voice still reached them. That meant the dark silhouette wasn’t far behind—it was impossible to outrun it.

Come to think of it… he’s not calling me darling anymore.

The random thought flickered in his mind as Hansol glanced back. There—the dark silhouette that had been clashing with James came into view.

Wait—he could see it?

That shouldn’t have been possible. Yet, before he could process it, the figure drew closer, moving like it was caught in slow motion. Then, in an instant, it swung its arm.

Though its outline resembled a human, its arm moved like a whip, extending unnaturally as it struck Sehyun’s shoulder. The blow sent their bodies spinning through the air. Even as they tumbled, Sehyun clutched Hansol tightly, shielding him with his own body until they finally came to a stop.

“Cough!”

“A-are you okay?!”

Hansol’s entire body ached, but Sehyun’s condition was far worse. Blood stained his lips, his face was covered in scratches, and his shoulder—where the blow had landed—was mangled beyond recognition.

The bone, the fabric—everything was a blur of red. It was no longer a shoulder.

He had taken that hit, rolled across the ground, and still protected Hansol. Tears stung Hansol’s eyes. It was all his fault. If only he hadn’t taken that damn access pass. If only he’d stayed out.

“H-Healer…”

Sehyun’s voice cracked, fragile with pain. The emotion that had been building in Hansol’s chest shattered.

“J-Just hang in there. Please, just a little longer, okay?”

He gently laid Sehyun down and wiped his tears. He needed to focus. Think, Hansol.

His gaze darted to his status window. Half his mana remained—enough to heal Sehyun completely. He cast spell after spell: Heal, Light of Recovery, Prayer. Over and over again.

The future didn’t matter. Nothing did. If he couldn’t save the person in front of him, nothing else held meaning.

The white light washed over Sehyun in layers—pale, faint, gentle. It lingered, then faded. By all logic, his wounds should have closed, at least on the surface. But—

“Why… why isn’t it working?”

The shoulder was still a mess. The scratches on his face remained. Maybe it wasn’t an injury—maybe it was a curse. He tried casting Purification, again and again, but nothing changed.

“What the hell is wrong?!”

His voice broke, echoing hollowly into the empty air. The only response was Sehyun’s ragged breathing—harsh, shallow, fading. Even a non-healer could tell: he didn’t have much time left.

And beyond that, the dark silhouette had caught up, closing the distance in seconds. It seemed almost entertained, swaying mockingly in front of Sehyun. Rage surged through Hansol.

“Heal!!”

“Berthel!!”

Eyes blazing red, Hansol unleashed his spell at the creature presumed to be Berthel. A white beam of light shot forward—but before it could hit, the creature effortlessly dodged, faster than sight. Its whip-like arm lashed out again, tauntingly, striking Sehyun once more.

No…!

Hansol didn’t even have time to react. The blow landed.

“Kh—!”

Sehyun’s body jerked violently before falling still. Just moments ago, he’d been clinging to life—and now, with a single gesture, that fragile spark had been snuffed out.

Hansol’s trembling hand clenched the ground.

“No, no, no…”

“Sanctuary Declaration!”

“Use every point I have left!”

It wasn’t reasoned or deliberate. It was instinct—a desperate scream torn straight from his soul.