Chapter 49

“I’ve been waiting. I heard you fainted from a Basilisk’s petrifying gaze—glad you’re alright.”

“Basilisk? You’re the one who killed me.”

“You must be misremembering. And this is a VIP ward—even for Baek-seon…”

“Lruyeh.”

“Even for Lady Lruyeh, you can’t be here without permission from The Old Gods’ Wound. One press of the nurse call and swordsmen with steel batons will rush in thinking you’re an intruder. How about we set a time to meet outside later?”

“Seol Si-heon kindly let me in. From the way he’s been guarding your room without sleeping, you must have sweet-talked him nicely.”

Seol Si-heon, that useless punk!

I’d told him to keep up the gaslighting, and it hadn’t worked at all.

Worse, he had escorted the grim reaper right to my bedside. That was basically praying for my death.

Abandoning the last sliver of faith I had in him, I steeled myself.

There was a saying: even if the Black Serpents drag you away, you live if you keep your wits. ¹

Baek-seon hadn’t helped save Yoo Se-byeol, and I couldn’t deny I had dusted her shoulder with Singularity to make it happen.

Thanks to that, I had dropped the Basilisks summoned by that wicked alchemist Perez into the traps.

In the end, we had wrapped things up without any casualties.

In truth, she had done nothing, and yet the news praised her as the “hero who slew the Basilisk family and saved Yeouido.” That was all thanks to me, wasn’t it.

Gravely injured or not, I pressed my forehead to the floor and welcomed her with dignity.

“Please spare me…”

“Your attitude shifts like the phases of the moon. You’re an amusing man.”

“If you must take my life, fine—just please, anything but a date with that skull…!”

“That’s impossible. You know why.”

Ah, what a cruel, merciless person!

A member of the Seven Immortals, and this heartless after dying only once?

I’d endured this long by being thin and tenacious like a tentacle, but was this where my fate ended?

Just when I was drowning in despair and drafting a will—“When I die, please bury my Outer God in the coffin with me”—Lruyeh spoke.

“You triggered concurrent circulation and reversal of mana at the same coordinate, incinerating all formulae within that spacetime—‘demon-erase.’ Before it pierced my brain, the seven layered defensive spells I keep active were shredded in less than a second.”

“…”

“That wasn’t your full power, was it. Which is why I can’t possibly kill you. The impossible one here is me.”

So that was what she meant.

Unlike Yoo Se-byeol, who nagged me to fire off more Singularities if my firepower lacked, Lruyeh had recognized the gap in strength after seeing it once.

Holding back when Perez and Hans clashed had been the right call.

Any mage of Upper Level or higher, just by witnessing Extreme Magic, would instinctively feel it was fundamentally different from the magic they knew.

I pushed myself up from the floor, still feeling a little grimy about it.

Even WWE every day and the occasional UFC move were just ordinary violence if the other person refused to take the hit.

“The air shifted again. This time it’s honestly scary.”

“You don’t have to be scared.”

“I can’t help it. Fear rings loudest when death draws near, and ignorance itself breeds fear. Right now I don’t even know why you’re still speaking politely to me after the ridiculous stunt you pulled in the tower.”

“I have my reasons.”

If I pulled out the tentacles, she’d probably faint.

I wanted this spacious room to remain mine alone, so I kept as polite as possible to help Lruyeh walk out on her own two feet.

“So, what brings you here? If you know what I can do, this isn’t a welfare check.”

“I came to ask a favor.”

“A favor?”

“I didn’t get the Gate.”

Since the third mission had been canceled, the Gate awarded to the winner of the Tower of Proof had gone to no one.

For Baek-seon—who had entered purely to win that Gate—that failure had to hurt.

“What kind of Gate did you want so badly? A high-yield mine?”

“No. The official name of the winning Gate was ‘Necropolis.’ Literally a city that’s a tomb for the dead.”

Normally, Archdukes or their Familiars created Gates by forming Dimensional Cores to invade Earth.

But not every Gate was made that way.

In the Demon Realm, in unstable mana zones—especially caves or mountains rich in mana stones—Gates sometimes formed on their own.

The Magic Tower detected those, guilds moved in to mine, and money flowed.

But the Necropolis Lruyeh spoke of wasn’t that kind.

It belonged to demons, but slipped through their management and caught the Outer Gods’ eye.

“Funerals are rare among demons. When the hun is extinguished, witches usually come and burn the baek to ash. And then…”

“They scatter the bone dust across the five rivers that lead to the underworld. For them, that’s a complete death.”

“You know this?”

“More or less.”

Lruyeh looked surprised that I knew demon ecology, then continued plainly.

Once you realized the person in front of you ran outside the common spec sheet, there wasn’t much left to be surprised about.

“You remember the Ledger we talked about last time?”

“Yes.”

“If either the body or the spirit dies, I can bring them back with my magic. But once that special process is done, their name burns away from the Ledger. That means I can’t make them mine.”

“Right. Black Magic is designed to prevent corpses from being used after death.”

“Exactly. But there’s one exception—the demons enshrined in the Necropolis.”

I knew another name for the place the Tower had labeled “Necropolis.”

The Eternal Tomb.

It was the heart of the Demon Realm, where certain demons left their bodies behind even after death so they could continue serving their masters.

Cases like that—ignoring the natural order of demon customs—weren’t common.

Leaving a name unburned in the Ledger was like openly challenging the Archduke who governed it.

Only two out of the seventy-two Archdukes had the authority to make such a tomb.

Naberius, the Archduke of Commanders, ranked 24th.

And Gamigin, the Archduke of Spirit-Calling, ranked 4th.

Had I known this earlier, I would’ve pushed harder to win, even recklessly.

While I silently regretted the missed chance, it was as if the heavens answered—Lruyeh made an unexpected offer.

“Since no one claimed ownership from the Tower of Proof, it’ll go to auction.”

“Don’t tell me you’re here to borrow money?”

“I’ll handle that myself. What I need is your help when the Gate opens. I planned to tackle it alone despite the risks, but with you, it should be much easier.”

Now I understood why she obsessed over the Gate.

She wanted the corpses of high-ranking demons.

Her aim was to steal the armies of Archdukes, binding them through Necromancy and Spirit-Calling to make them her own.

“You plan to enslave the demon corpses inside the Necropolis, don’t you?”

“Yes. You can take all the grave goods. I only want their bodies.”

“Really? Those artifacts must be worth plenty…”

“It doesn’t matter. All I want are their corpses.”

Her gaze shifted to the skull she kept beside her.

So it wasn’t just about raising an army. Carrying a child’s skull around—there had to be another reason.

Either way, it was dangerous. But if I succeeded, I could cripple Gamigin’s power.

It would also mean fulfilling my earlier promise—to secure resting space for my tentacles.

And most importantly, the Eternal Tomb was practically Gamigin’s front yard, “Hooves of the Statue.”

If I got lucky, I might even gain a Star Scar. No way I’d pass up that chance.

“I’ll pass on the artifacts. In exchange, transfer me some of the land inside the Gate.”

“You want to use it like Mt. Cheonsan? But the mana there is corrupted—you won’t be able to strengthen your powers.”

“If it’s corrupted, that’s even better.”

I returned the skull resting on my bedside table.

“The Gate won’t open for a while. I’ll contact you once preparations are complete.”

“Tell me at least a week in advance. I need to file vacation leave.”

“Understood.”

“One more thing. You must keep my secret. And please, keep treating me casually like you are now.”

“That… I don’t understand, but I’ll try.”

The jawbone of the skull rattled, like it regretted not being taken as a companion.

Hugging it close, Lruyeh nodded and left.

“Mala-nim! I’ve returned!”

A few days later, I proudly discharged from the hospital and rejoined the Special Unit.

When I returned to the dorms, my long-missed Outer God was sitting on my bed.

As expected, it looked like she’d spent every night without me in tears—her crimson eyes were faintly bloodshot.

Her face looked thinner, too. She must have even given up meals.

“Oh, how could this happen, Mala-nim! Did you not sleep a wink at night?”

“I stayed up playing with your smartwatch.”

“Why are your arms so thin! You couldn’t even eat properly because you were worried about me, could you…!”

“I think it’s just a growth spurt. Don’t worry—I always brought food from the cafeteria. I even finished lunch just now.”

Alexei was sprawled in the lounge on the first floor, calmly reading a book.

And I couldn’t help but wonder—what had the two of them talked about while I was gone?

To be precise, what I really wondered wasn’t the content of their conversation, but whether they had actually talked at all.

So I asked Alexei how Mala-nim had spent her time while I was gone—and got a completely unexpected reply.

“The treatment worked well. Hayan’s little sister seems fully recovered.”

“…What? What do you mean?”

“Her voice was soft, but she spoke very fluently. We had no trouble communicating while staying together.”

She… could talk?

But since I came back, she hadn’t said a single word.

I leaned back to look at Mala-nim. At some point, she had snatched my smartwatch and was busy pulling gacha in New Monster Wars RE:VIVE! …trying her luck for the new <Orphaned Basilisk (SR)>.

But because Moon Ah-rin had set spending limits, the free currency from login bonuses ran out fast.

Frustrated, Mala-nim started searching the Special Unit Bamboo Forest board for “how to unlock smartwatch kid lock.”

I quickly asked, hoping Alexei’s words were true.

“Mala-nim! Have you really gained the ability to speak!?”

“……”

“Here, repeat after me: Sae Hayan.”

“……”

…She didn’t.

Her lips stayed sealed.

Had my so-called brother tricked me?

Suspicious, I lowered my head and asked Alexei again if he was really sure. But he just flipped to a different book and answered the same way.

“She definitely spoke. Even said my full name properly.”

“Then why won’t she call mine, no matter how much I ask?”

“Seems she feels embarrassed about saying your name.”

“Embarrassed…?”

Between me and Mala-nim, such a word shouldn’t even exist.

But Alexei, with his half-rim glasses perched on his nose, pushed them up with a finger and calmly explained:

“For someone who usually doesn’t need to acknowledge others, calling a person by name is the same as recognizing them as an equal. That alone lets emotion slip through—and when emotion shows, instincts kick in. Suppression, denial, reaction… defense mechanisms that surface on their own. There’s even research on Awakened psychology that says when emotions swell too far, powers can surge out of control, sometimes even causing natural disasters. It isn’t something chosen—it’s instinct. Honestly, Hayan, I doubt your little sister is ordinary at all. She feels like something far beyond that.”

“…I don’t understand a word you just said. You really need to study more Korean, Alexei.”

I had already expected it wouldn’t be easy to hear my name from Mala-nim.

Still, she had absorbed all the Star Scars. Surely some change would come from that.

Not just the ability to talk more fluently.

Eventually, when she couldn’t continue the gacha, Mala-nim gave off a pale white light and returned to her tentacle form.

She crawled back into my sleeve, and only then did I feel emotionally stable again.

That’s when I noticed Alexei was acting different from usual.

“By the way, brother.”

“What is it, brother?”

“What have you been reading so intently all this time?”

“Oh, this? I’m studying for the upcoming promotion review.”

Promotion review? That was a thing?

“What’s that?”

“You haven’t heard from the Spear of Thunderclouds? He said he visited you at the hospital and mentioned it.”

Now that I thought about it, Kang Ha-neul had grumbled something about me slacking off and failing the review if I kept it up.

“And I heard he even left the answer sheets from the previous batch with you.”

“…Ah.”

Come to think of it, he had left a book along with the fruit basket…

“With that, even if you don’t have much time to study, you could pass the review easily. Did you lose it?”

I didn’t answer Alexei. I just quietly pulled the blanket over myself.

There was no way I could admit that I’d used it as a tray while sneaking ramen in the hospital at dawn, spilled broth all over it, and had to throw it away.