LTTH C23

Chapter 23

‘Madness…?’

The conclusion was nothing short of a cosmic upheaval. Hansol blinked slowly, unable to fully accept what he had just heard. The composed face of the Tower’s Master and the wide-eyed gaze of James came into his view.

“Do you begin to understand now why you are special, Hansol?”

He was well aware of the once frozen Level 1 now stirring and the shifting rank he occupied. It was not just that—achievements and quests, and new stats, all changing in tandem.

No matter how ignorant one might be, it was impossible to overlook this singularity. Perhaps it had been sensed vaguely—that there was something that set him apart from ordinary healers. Yet that doubt had been but a faint whisper, and now, having escaped the eternal Level 1, he was all too aware of the yawning gulf between him and the rankers, and his own insecurity.

“I have heard the rumours, and now I understand the reputation of hunters in South Korea.”

“…What do you mean?”

With his thoughts growing tangled, Hansol’s expression hardened, and James clicked his tongue in reproach. Perhaps it was because he was ignorant of Hansol’s former moniker—the ‘Eternal Level 1’—with which he had been branded until only days before his level-up.

“To squander talents such as yours—it is no exaggeration that, had you belonged to another nation, half a dozen rankers would have been assigned to guard you.”

“Then, what do you propose?”

“I know not how you have been treated, but you must receive your due respect henceforth.”

“That is not to say you intend to remove Hansol from us?”

“Why not?”

The discourse unfolded between the Tower’s Master and James, regardless of Hansol’s wishes. Their quarrel sent a chill through his thoughts. He understood well how his standing had changed, yet far more urgent than the dispute over his allegiance was the task at hand—clearing the Gate. Above all, he wished to remain in Korea.

Though voicing this desire now would likely fall on deaf ears.

First and foremost, the Gate required clearing. To this end, disregard was the answer. Hansol gave up attempting to intervene between the two and called out to Sehyun, who stood dumbfounded.

“Sehyun! Let us follow this path for now.”

“Ah… Yes!”

Sehyun hastened forth, and those rankers who had regained their wits began to stir. Meanwhile, James and the Master’s bickering continued unabated. The greatest folly was worrying about the rankers.

Passing the writhing tentacles, Hansol traced the darkened earth as he had with James.

After several casts of Purification, they arrived at an unidentifiable hut amidst exchanged glances from the rankers.

“A hut? Here of all places?”

“Do you think it truly is but a hut? This is within the Gate, and a Gate of no less than Grade A.”

“Indeed, it must be so.”

It was plain, as expected—within the Gate, nothing was simple. Even the kindest of monsters were but the departed dead.

“Healer, please come this way.”

“Yes.”

Though previously leading, the rankers now spread out around Hansol protectively, placing him in the center. Among them was Sehyun.

With courtesy afforded to all healers thus far, a slight thrill crept upon Hansol’s spirit as he vigilantly watched ahead. He was no longer a frail Level 1 healer but a cornerstone, assuring safety for all who dared battle ahead. A weighty responsibility gripped him, focusing his mind wholly.

“Let us venture in first.”

A lightly clad man strode confidently forward. Though large in motion, not a breath nor rustle escaped him. Like a ghost in silent passage, Hansol swallowed hard.

He was an assassin—allegedly a renowned figure. Cloaked in black and masking his voice as befits those who dwell in shadow, his skill was unquestioned.

Swiftly reaching the hut, the man lightly tossed a sharp weapon toward its door. Silently, the weapon melted the door away, and in moments the entrance dissolved into darkness.

“Whatever is this?”

“It seems but a hallucinatory vision.”

Realizing safety unto the hut’s mouth, hunters cautiously moved forward, Hansol following. The interior remained pitch black; not a single detail revealed itself.

The assassin, bold at the outset, stepped inside but soon vanished into the blackness.

“Yuki!”

“He disappeared?”

“It is not mere shadow that cloaks him, yes?”

Speculation arose over the vanished man’s fate, and another hunter, appearing his acquaintance, ventured further inside.

“Wait.”

From the darkness emerged James, firm of face, gripping the shoulder of the man who had stepped in. Behind him appeared the Master of the Tower as well. Their countenances belied no hint of reconciliation; rather, they seemed intent on continuing their quarrel.

“What think you of this?”

“Well, it is not a simple hut. Magic is surely cast.”

Had they come to regard each other with respect, or was it a love-hate relationship? The two, now close in manner, debated over the hut.

“A hunter just entered. Shall we trust it is well?”

“I am more reassured that it is not Hansol.”

“Indeed. Darling’s restraint and caution saved us by keeping him from rushing.”

James nodded to the Master’s words. Though strangers till hours ago, they appeared strangely united. Hansol suspected an unholy alliance, but held his tongue.

“Shall we rescue him, then?”

“Alas, if he is endangered, yes. Yet there is no promise he shall return.”

“True indeed. We cannot afford further losses. The monsters yet unknown may be worse still.”

While they fretted over their comrade lost to darkness, the truth remained: if the Gate were not cleared, all would be lost. What had been a sudden shift in the system and its prime beneficiary, Hansol, led to this journey. Whether or not answers awaited them, they must conclude their task.

“Let us advance cautiously. This may yet be a trap.”

“Agreed.”

James and the Master took the lead, followed closely by the hunters. Hansol cast a lingering glance behind them. The black void within the hut still absorbed all light, unchanged.

How long had they wandered as if on a leisurely excursion? The Gate’s end remained unseen; aside from the enigmatic hut passed earlier, nothing of note appeared. Had they not ventured within that hut, perhaps regret would gnaw relentlessly. And he was not alone in feeling such remorse.

“Can it truly be so empty?”

“How could not a single monster appear? Does such a Gate even exist?”

“Indeed. The end is not in sight, nor does any exit give sign.”

“Surely, we have taken a wrong path. Wandering blind shall not suffice.”

These voiced complaints were hardly unexpected—they were rankers, after all, with little desire to squander time thus.

(Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle.)

“……?”

Amid the hunters’ murmured discontentments came an unfamiliar, chuckling voice—one none present recognized. It seemed to reverberate from the very void.

(Fools.)

“What was that?”

“Hansol?”

“Darling?”

“What is the matter?”

The biting mockery of that voice compelled Hansol to raise his voice. The startled gazes of the hunters surrounding him fixed upon his face—expressions rich with confusion and curiosity.

“Did you not hear that voice just now?”

“All I heard were hunters rejoicing in their fortune, I’m afraid.”

“No, just now…”

(What? Did you hear my voice?)

“……!”