LTTH C34

Chapter 34

Hansol’s gaze settled firmly on the level shown in his status window—merely level twenty-six. His progress remained far too modest.

‘I must go, after all.’

“I will enter a gate.”

“Hansol-nim.”

“Darling. It is dangerous.”

“You need not accompany me. I shall go alone.”

“You cannot truly imagine we would heed those words, can you?”

“Darling, do you not understand why the mage and I remain at your side?”

Even James, whose expression hardly ever hardened, now grew solemn as he spoke in a low voice. The heaviness of their tones silenced Hansol.

The reason for their resistance was well understood. Hansol had promised James that he would purify the Dark Zone, and the Tower Lord, likely, harbored intentions to draw him into the Mage Tower. Should Hansol perish in some unremarkable gate, both their plans would be irrevocably dashed.

“I shall not meet my end anywhere else. I have this.”

Hansol displayed the “return stone” received as a reward—a crystal gleaming with iridescent light, distinctly different from an access badge. He was certain that this was precisely the item he needed most at the moment.

‘Item Info.’

Return Stone.

A concentration of magical power that allows one to return to any desired place.

As always, the description was brief, yet Hansol knew this sort of item well enough without further explanation.

When assembling a raiding party for new or dangerously difficult gates, every hunter packed a return item. Typically crafted in crystal form, their grades varied wildly.

Most items were rated by the aura enveloping them. It was not entirely precise, but the return stone presently in Hansol’s hand emanated a rainbow-colored glow. While its exact rank required appraisal, it was at least grade A—usable in gates ranked A or lower.

A-rank gates and above were managed at the national level; someone of Hansol’s low level could not simply waltz in as he wished.

In short, Hansol could only access gates ranked A or below, and that posed no issue. This was what he wished to convey.

“With this, I shall return safely from any gate I enter.”

“Hansol-nim, do you think our concern rests solely on the danger that you might perish in a gate?”

“……?”

Hansol’s puzzled look prompted the Tower Lord to sigh deeply, weighted by anxiety.

“This morning, right after clearing Berthel’s second laboratory, you came here without rest.”

“And then straight away, you went forth to purify the Dark Zone.”

That, too, applied to the two before him, but when Hansol started to object, the Tower Lord preempted him.

“Did you only purify the Dark Zone? No, you also cured the infected within.”

A quick, exasperated laugh punctuated his statements. The tone was not unkind but filled with honest admiration.

After composing himself, the Tower Lord stood and took several steps toward Hansol.

“There is a time difference between Korea and America. Are you aware? You have been awake for over thirty hours.”

Was that so? Hansol’s eyes drifted to the digital clock occupying one wall. Ah, so that reflected American time, not Korean.

“Through that time, you did not eat nor rest.”

“Hansol-nim, though you are a healer, you lack the stamina of a tank or the mana of a mage—such as myself.”

“A healer’s body is no different from any ordinary person’s. This is why hunters guard their healers so closely.”

The Tower Lord, having exhausted his point, took a deep breath and delivered his final plea.

“So please, rest.”

“Please.”

The quiet, desperate addendum stirred a gentle discomfort in Hansol’s heart.

Going an entire day without food was commonplace, and all-night vigils hardly troubled him. Survival as a healer at the lowest tier meant never wasting a moment; eating and bathing time were luxuries sacrificed for another chance in a gate.

‘…I forced myself without realizing.’

Only belatedly did Hansol grasp the wisdom in the Tower Lord’s words. He had indeed grown hasty, burning with impatience. At every moment, veteran healers were clearing higher-ranked gates, claiming ever more experience, and other hunters pressed on with their own trials.

Yet Hansol, no longer shackled to the title “eternal level one,” was now advancing faster than any of them, aided by the system’s uncanny support.

“At this rate, it will be the mage who dies before Darling.”

“…Understood.”

With James’s surly quip, Hansol nodded in reluctant acceptance. After all, tomorrow was another day, and leveling up could be reserved for Britain.

Adopting this mindset dispelled his impatience as if it had never weighed him down. His body felt heavy—a sign that his strength truly had been spent.

“Then, we shall take our leave.”

“We are next door; call if anything arises, Darling.”

As if waiting for precisely this moment, the two rose and strode toward the door. Their faces were steeped with fatigue; Hansol caught himself regretting it.

With mild apology, Hansol nodded.

“I shall see you tomorrow.”

The soft answer slipped through the closing door and reached them. He hoped the next day would be peaceful.

The state-owned building erected near America’s Dark Zone was abuzz all day.

Every staff member, having signed stringent non-disclosure agreements, could not hide their solitary delight. To witness a healer who can restore the Dark Zone—a true Messiah—was cause for smiles and laughter well into the night. Yet in one quiet chamber, hushed voices exchanged secretive words.

On the far end of the second floor, a narrow room glowed faintly through a slightly opened door, casting a sliver of light into the dark hall.

“And? What of the Messiah?”

“He was every inch a Messiah. If anything, his reality exceeded our reports, never falling short.”

“Hm, then it must be done.”

“It will be difficult. We may need to offer much.”

“And when has it ever been otherwise? To get what one desires, one must answer to the other’s demand. Is that not the worth of the one called Messiah?”

“…Yes, more than enough.”

“That will do.”

After a few whispered exchanges, the light slipped out, briefly illuminating a shadow hiding in the hall—a figure with luxuriant gold hair and sharp blue eyes, wearing a hardened expression before slipping away.

The following day, before Hansol could even approach the Dark Zone, he was intercepted.

“Messiah, forgive us, but you should return home quickly. Staying here any longer may prove dangerous.”

It was the same man who had wept, clutching the earth in his hands. He arrived early and, in hushed tones, offered what was less a suggestion and more an urgent plea.

Returning to Korea was not unwelcome. The ones who suffered were those left behind, and Hansol had no reason to challenge their wishes. Were it not for the man’s furtive glances and anxious gestures, Hansol would have welcomed it openly.

There was something hidden. Years of experience made Hansol alert to the unnaturalness in his host’s behavior.

‘Something is amiss.’

Beset by mounting suspicion, he chose to withdraw. He needed these people now; eventually, whatever truth they were concealing would come to light.

“…Very well. I shall return and visit again.”

“If you do, we shall be endlessly grateful.”

No sooner had Hansol promised to return than the man’s face lit up in relief, grasping his hands gratefully, again and again. Leaving them behind, Hansol stepped once more upon the magic circle, departing as swiftly as he had arrived.