LTTH C81

Chapter 81

“Hand over a hunter…?”

“That person?”

The crowd’s gazes—each carrying its own brand of calculation—fixed upon Hansol. It was not the same reverence that had once called him Messiah or Saint. It was the look of people who had found an easy equation: sacrifice this one person, and the rest of us survive.

And it was the ordinary civilians behind him—cowering while the hunters shielded the front—whose eyes were the coldest.

Eyes sharp enough to kill with a glance sent chills skittering down Hansol’s spine.

“Do you people even know who you’re looking at with eyes like that?”

“Hansol, ignore them.”

“Knew it—Korea is impossible. Let’s move to America, darling.”

James had somehow returned to Hansol’s side, and now he, the Tower Master, and Kassie formed a tight circle around Hansol.

But their intervention only provoked the civilians further.

“Why not? The monster said it’ll spare us if we give it that healer!”

“It’s just one healer! Is that one person worth more than the dozens here?!”

“Hunters exist to protect people! Isn’t that your whole job?!”

Just one healer. Just one hunter.

As if life could be weighed so cheaply.

As if their own lives were precious but someone else’s could be discarded like spoiled meat.

They screamed with bulging veins, oblivious to the fact that Hansol, too, was a person—not merely a healer or a hunter.

“If it demanded a non-hunter instead, would you say the same thing?”

“Hunters are people, too! The ones protecting you are also human!”

The back-and-forth between civilians and hunters threatened to burst into a full-blown brawl. Hansol let out a small, weary sigh.

He despised the civilians’ selfishness, yes—but that didn’t mean he could abandon them.

Hansol lowered his gaze to the Sanctuary glowing under his feet and opened his mouth.

“…Descent. Guardian Summon.”

Guardian Summon could only be used alongside Descent—if he didn’t use it now, he might never get another chance. So Hansol invoked both.

As soon as the Descent activated, the atmosphere around him changed.

Not his body, not his clothes—but the air itself.

His aura sharpened, grew divine, until the ordinary light surrounding him condensed into something nearly palpable.

“The Messiah…?”

“Hansol…!”

Having already witnessed Hansol’s Descent once in England, Kassie rushed forward with panic in his eyes and threw himself around Hansol—almost crushing him in fear that Hansol might float into the air again and slip beyond reach.

But this time, things were different. Kassie could hold him.

Hansol’s body stayed solid beneath his touch; he neither faded nor ascended.

“…Kassie?”

“Oh.”

Kassie finally released him, flustered, when Hansol tapped his arm in a plea for breath.

“…Hansol, are you all right?”

“Of course.”

Hansol was perfectly fine.

Unlike in England, he wasn’t levitating.

Only a vast gold radiance streamed behind him, taking the form of grand wings.

That sight alone drove the civilians into uneasy retreat.

The power pouring from Hansol was something they dared not approach.

Feeling the shift in atmosphere, Hansol turned to his side. Unlike the last Descent, the Guardian hadn’t appeared in the sky but rather beside him.

“We meet again.”

“……”

This time, the Guardian gave no verbal reply—only a faint dip of his head.

He did understand Hansol, but… the silver light around him seemed dimmer than before.

Was he… weakened?

“Hansol-nim, who is this?”

“Oh—he’s the Guardian.”

“The Guardian… hmm.”

Unlike Kassie, the Tower Master was seeing the Guardian for the first time.

His gaze swept over the Guardian from head to toe—sharp, analytical, almost predatory, the same look he had given Kassie when they first met.

But the Guardian neither reacted nor spoke.

[So the negotiation has failed, I assume?]

“…Why would anyone trust a monster’s ‘deal’?”

“Exactly. They could easily kill us all after taking him.”

“They absolutely would.”

“And he’s not just any healer—he’s the Messiah. No one’s giving him up.”

Maybe they believed Hansol would fix everything.

Maybe they always believed that.

Unlike the civilians who had just been calling for his sacrifice, the hunters now formed a wall in front of Hansol, glaring down the monstrous giant.

“……”

The civilians who moments ago had glared at him like a sacrificial lamb now stayed silent.

But Hansol couldn’t feel pleased.

Would they say the same if he were still level one?

If he had no Sanctuary, no Descent, no Guardian?

“…Do you think I can really kill that thing?”

His confidence wavered, dragged down by his own doubt.

At that moment, the Guardian’s hand gently tugged at his collar.

Long pale fingers—stained faintly with blood and dust—touched the fabric.

Hansol lifted his eyes.

The Guardian still didn’t speak.

But the stars embedded in those silver irises conveyed one clear message:

“I am here.”

The final challenge was not over.

“Please… kill that monster.”

The Guardian nodded once.

Then he launched himself toward the towering creature—so fast Hansol could barely track his movement.

The Guardian’s blade flashed silver as it cut into the monster’s trunklike body—yet the blow didn’t cleave it.

What looked like mere wood proved harder than steel, easily repelling the Guardian’s strength. Even the strike that had sliced through Berthel’s mist form couldn’t find purchase here.

[If that’s the extent of your strength, you won’t even scratch me.]

The monster’s massive root-legs trembled mockingly, as if to laugh.

Hansol didn’t know martial arts, but even he could tell the Guardian was losing.

What now?

If the Guardian fell, then everyone—Hansol included—would die.

“…?”

System?

A system window flickered, but the letters jittered with static, garbled and unreadable.

Hansol stared hard, trying to decipher the glitching message.

…Could it be?

As Hansol hesitated, the system window reappeared again and again.

He knew this pattern.

“Again…?”

The system, as always, accepted its own request without permission.

The final confirmation message flickered—and vanished.

Something was coming.

Hansol held his breath, bracing for impact.

But nothing visible changed.

Did… did he just get scammed by the system?

As Hansol silently cursed the system’s antics, a blast of silver light erupted from the Guardian—an explosion of radiance so intense the whole world turned white.

“Ugh!”

“W-what is that?!”

The brilliant flash swallowed everything.

Yet Hansol alone could see clearly through it, as if the light parted for him.

Across the battlefield, the Guardian turned and offered Hansol a small, serene smile.

“At last… you’ve received it.”

He spoke—after saying nothing until now.

The voice was soft, but Hansol heard it as if whispered right beside his ear.

Had his senses… expanded?

Was this permission—this new authority—granting him something like hyper-awareness?