LTTH C41

Chapter 41

“…….”

Hansol and Kassie’s gazes locked in silent tension. Their unspoken standoff only ended when Kassie, having maintained silence, rose from his seat.

“Kassie!”

“I believe Isaac should hear this as well. The matter is too grave for us alone.”

Without turning to Hansol, Kassie left the tent, murmuring something unintelligible as he stepped outside.

‘What could be so heavy that they cannot discuss it alone?’

Is this not Britain? Why are the coordinates different? Why has the mood turned so serious?

Left alone in the tent, Hansol racked his brains to justify the situation but found no satisfying answer.

His belief was firm that this place was Britain. After all, he had arrived here by entering the magic circle with the Tower Lord and James. Yet reality showed that the Britain where the Tower Lord and James were located was different.

He alone had arrived elsewhere despite using the same coordinates and magic circle? It made no sense unless some device affected only him. It was the most reasonable conclusion—but then, why? The question naturally followed. Among countless hunters and healers, why him?

“Hansol, I have brought Isaac.”

“…This may be a lengthy tale.”

Hansol was uncertain what conversation had transpired during the brief interval, but Kassie appeared slightly weary and Isaac kept his usual poker face as they entered the tent and took their seats.

Kassie, having seated himself on the prepared chair, caused Isaac to bring a distant chair close and sit with ease before speaking.

“How does the country you come from refer to Britain?”

“…In Korea?”

“Yes, Korea.”

At Isaac’s softly spoken, enigmatic question, Hansol could barely find words.

“I hope you will speak honestly.”

“…Britain has frequent gate breaks and is called the land where healers lose limbs…”

“Indeed.”

No. Honestly, it was called the abandoned land—forsaken by the system and cast off by the world. Yet Hansol could not say that plainly to another’s face. Thus, the softened phrase remained.

Whether Isaac knew Hansol’s thoughts or not, his expression remained unchanged. So did Kassie’s.

“Yes, that’s right. Britain is abandoned—a land forsaken by both system and world.”

“……!”

Had he truly spoken aloud? Isaac’s blunt words caused Hansol to close his mouth tightly, eyes wide.

“Though cut off from the wider world, at least we knew that much.”

“Is it not a world where hunters’ strength determines a nation’s power? Where the more recognition from the system one receives, the greater authority one can wield? That was indeed true until a few decades ago, even for Britain.”

Regrettably, the situation had not changed. Countries boasting many rankers held their influence near the summit. Discovering novel system functions often brought award nominations. Isaac’s world and the present were remarkably unchanged.

“But that standard has shifted. At least here.”

Isaac spoke calmly, falling silent for a moment. As if awaiting this, Kassie took up his words.

“Survival. That is all that matters to us now.”

It was natural that Britain cared more for survival than anywhere else—the number of monsters and gateway appearances far exceeded global averages. Yet their story was surely more than mere survival.

“When support from other countries ceased, and gate breaks turned Britain into chaos, time here stopped.”

Isaac’s grave expression hardened Hansol’s.

The final day of Britain, hidden from the world. Had monsters flooded Britain on that day, civilization and culture would have collapsed utterly.

A land no longer advancing—or capable of doing so. Since that time, Britain’s time had ceased to flow.

“The system still runs, and we still live. Yet our time stands still.”

“Within the system’s domain, all functions normally. Only our time halts.”

‘……?’

Kassie’s tone grew strange as he spoke, exchanging glances with Isaac. Like a tacit agreement, their two pairs of blue eyes shimmered with peculiar light.

“Hansol, how old do I look to you? No, how much time do you suppose we’ve endured?”

“……!”

Kassie’s plainly spoken words were initially indecipherable. Pondering them repeatedly, Hansol finally grasped the true meaning: time had stopped.

‘Good heavens.’

Though Isaac’s voice remained composed, the topic was far from serene.

All beings receive equal time, Hansol had thought. Britain—amid gate breaks—would be no different. Yet this equal measure of time was denied to them. Despite this, gate breaks continued, monsters flourished, and level-ups were possible. The system endured.

Did this mean all in Britain were immortal? Surely not. Only recently, some had lost their lives to a gate break.

Some might say living forever at youthful prime was a blessing—but could he agree? Should a careless monster sever a limb, the owner would remain so maimed eternally. Aging would not come; they would live forever until finally slain by some other blade.

‘…Terrifying.’

Britain was treated as if it did not exist. Some even argued it should be erased from maps. For healers—no, for hunters—the top place to avoid remained Britain. But that was mistaken. To those present, this Britain was an eternal hell.

Bound to battle monsters for life, trapped in an endless cycle with no end in sight.

What would he have done? Likely, he would have thrown himself at monsters in despair. But these were different. Far tougher than hunters or Hansol had imagined, they struggled relentlessly to survive this unending hell.

Hansol bit his lips hard, emotions welling uncontrollably. These faces, perhaps only a few years older than himself, yet had they truly lived so briefly? He regarded the two, torn with emotion.

“After time froze, not a single hunter crossed to ‘our’ Britain. None but you.”

“And the two who came here by magic circle?”

“Likely, they went to another Britain. What that place is like, I do not know.”

A Britain apart from this one. Listening to them, it felt a separate domain. Perhaps there was a system there too… with monsters, no less?

‘Given they can still use artifacts, it seems likely.’

Where might those two be? Their safety, already a concern, now troubled him more. It was laughable that such powerful individuals could provoke worry in one like him.

Hansol hid a bitter smile and began to speak softly.

“…Why me, of all people?”

Why had only he fallen here, where no others could? The question remained unanswered.

Their eyes met. Perhaps knowing the answer was impossible, the question had passed unspoken.

Thus, the reply was not disappointing.

“Perhaps a trick of fate or the gods, but it matters not to us.”

“…….”

“That someone may come here—and that someone is you—that is what matters.”

Though weariness showed, strength filled the speaker’s gaze. Hansol could ask no more.

“You are our hope as you are—the hope to return to normal, the hope to survive.”

Two pairs of burdened blue eyes committed solely to Hansol. Saint, Messiah—so many titles, so heavy.

‘Hope indeed.’