Chapter 70

When she opened her eyes—

Flauros lay in a room steeped in a pastoral calm.

Through the window, the late afternoon sun sank beneath the horizon, and outside came the laughter of children.

“Pardon me, Lady Flauros.”

Just as she tried to sit up and grasp the situation, someone who had knocked entered the room.

It was Patel—black-robed, wearing a grotesque mask—the loyal subordinate who had once made her the representative of the Seat of Flame.

“Patel?”

“I watched the battle from afar. I’m relieved you survived.”

“Where is this…?”

“A residence of a certain cult in Ground Zero. You were in Daegu, Lady Flauros, and…”

“Daegu?”

“Ah, after your fight with the Apostle of the Outer God, you collapsed and lost consciousness, so I moved you somewhere safe.”

She raised her upper body and glanced around, still failing to piece things together.

Then she recalled the final moment, and her fine brows knitted.

“How am I alive? I clearly took the Apostle of the Outer God’s fourth magic head-on.”

“I wonder—my guess is that his attack wasn’t quite strong enough to snuff out your flame forever.”

No, that could not be.

Flauros knew very well that if he wished, the Apostle could erase her at any time.

She had even mentioned the existence of a lover that could serve as a fatal weakness to him.

The fact she had still opened her eyes unharmed meant only one thing.

He had shown mercy—twice, at that.

A hollow weakness washed over her whole body, as if everything had fallen away.

“Please don’t say that. It was a magnificent duel.”

“I don’t want pity from even you. I am the loser.”

“Lady Flauros…”

“I’m sorry for making you come for nothing, but could you leave? I wish to be alone for a moment.”

The small ember burning in her chest crackled and dwindled.

Stripped of her urge to fight, she no longer had a reason to live on.

She thought that, since the power she once had no longer remained, she might as well vanish as she was.

At that moment, Patel—who had not left but sat by the bed—spoke carefully.

“About the proposal you made before…”

“Proposal?”

“I fear it’ll be difficult for now. My contractor and I aren’t on the best terms, but I’ve grown attached in my own way.”

Now that she thought of it, she had asked if he would become her Familiar.

At this point, it hardly mattered.

Yet Flauros unconsciously lifted her head at what he said next.

“But if you were ever to defeat the Apostle of the Outer God, I would then serve you—forever.”

“What?”

Did he truly think that possible?

Even after seeing that monster’s skill?

Empty flattery was something she had heard plenty of back in the Demon Realm.

But if it were mere flattery to give hope, he would not have spoken so gravely.

Besides, why would he bother lying to her in a moment like this?

He already owed her his life once.

“Is that truly how you feel?”

“Pardon? Yes. It was… fun enough that I’d like to—no, I believe you, Lady Flauros, will certainly do it.”

His offer to introduce her to the best places for rehabilitation did not sound insincere.

Pointless as it was, she found herself comforted by his words.

“…Very well. I can’t betray your expectations, so I’ll challenge him as many times as it takes. I will be the one to bring him down.”

“Oh, as expected of the Archduke of Flame that burns eternally!”

Regaining her imperious smile, she threw back the blanket at once, readying herself to recover her strength.

Not everything she had gained from two defeats was worthless.

She now understood more about the Apostle’s techniques and temperament, and she had more to study on what might work against him.

Above all, a realization she had grasped on the brink of death kept circling in her mind.

Surely it would become a foundation for wielding flame in a more varied, dazzling way than before.

With that thought, fear no longer troubled her.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but her body even felt lighter than before.

Just as Flauros moved to hop lightly off the bed—

Patel, suddenly flustered, held her back.

“Please wait a moment!”

“What is it?”

“If you step down as you are, you might fall. I’ll bring you a footstool.”

“A footstool?”

Staring at him as he said something inexplicable, she realized something was off.

To look at his mask, she had to lift her chin much higher than before.

Unease prickled, and she quickly reached for the mirror on the bedside table.

And then—

“—!”

Reflected in the glass was herself, transformed into a child—about the same size as Velada.

<The Gyeongbu Line repairs are complete! Everyone, amazing work!! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و>

<There was one major accident in the middle, but thankfully the damage wasn’t large. (T⌓T)>

<Especially those from Division 3 who fought the black mage—since we don’t know what curses you might’ve picked up, make sure you get treated!>

<The White Tower and Division 6 have set up a confessional booth inside the training grounds, so even if you’ve already been discharged from Seoul Central Hospital, please, please stop by once to prevent mental contamination!!>

<Everyone, let’s do our best today! I’ll post more notices!!>

<Oh right, announcement of last week’s “one-line joke” winner chosen by the Commander-in-Chief!>

<Q: What do you call a driver who only works twice a day?>

<A: Tutankhamun!!>¹

<The Ninth Night passed safely, but since this week is still under the National Emergency Alert, the one-line joke event will take a break. (。•́︿•̀。)>

<Still, if anyone’s curious, feel free to ask me directly—either in the comments or at my office!!>

<I’ll be waiting!!! (๑>◡<๑)>

For the first time in decades, the Korean Peninsula had suffered a large-scale invasion by the demons—and the full manifestation of the Archduke of Flame.

When the massive pillar of fire rose high enough to melt an entire city, the rescue unit that headed to Daegu to save Division 3 had already prepared themselves to die.
Yet, somehow, they all survived.

A tremendous surge of mana had suddenly been detected—then Flauros’s presence vanished completely.

An in-depth investigation was underway, but even now, the cause remained unknown.

After confirming that no Seed of Calamity remained near Daegu, the Bureau resumed railway restoration between Seoul and Busan, despite the risks.

The result was just as the Commander-in-Chief’s notice proclaimed: a resounding success.

Even though the Frontline Breakthrough Unit had suffered losses near Daegu and couldn’t move south easily, the restoration of the Gyeongbu Line had been made possible thanks to help from the Busan-based Union.

At first, many within the Union strongly opposed deploying troops to Daegu, the very place where both the demons and an Archduke had appeared. According to Seo Chae-rin, persuading those still harboring resentment toward Seoul’s guilds and government was no easy task.

But the situation changed when Mayor Park Mak-rye—who had seized control of the Union’s cabinet in a coup during the chaos of the Ninth Night—declared her full support for cooperation. Because of her initiative, the two cities were able to restore relations without bloodshed.

Still, she wasn’t the only newly risen hero.

There was Alexei Mikhail Gorgochov, the Butcher of Bishkek, who had protected his comrades at the front of every trap the demons laid.

There was Deputy Commander Yoo Se-byeol of Division 3, who managed to extract her trapped operatives despite interference from the black mage Patel.

And there was Spear of Lightning Kang Cho-won, who foresaw Flauros’s manifestation and issued the retreat order just in time—saving the entire rescue team and all of Division 3.

Yet among these heroes, one Awakened was talked about far more than the rest, despite having done nothing particularly remarkable on the front lines.

She hadn’t even received an official commendation. But word of mouth among returning agents from Seoul spread quickly—and before anyone realized, she had become the Special Unit’s newest hero.

The Saint of Salvation, Moon Ah-rin.

“Hey, did you hear? The demons didn’t even get a proper fight in before running off. They say it was all thanks to Senior Moon Ah-rin.”

“What? But she wasn’t even part of the rescue team.”

“She was probably still in Seoul when the Archduke appeared, right?”

“She’s got wings, remember? I heard if she uses them, she can fly from Seoul to Daegu in under a minute.”

“For real?”

One peaceful day—

After feeding Tartaruga, Moon Ah-rin returned and overheard strange chatter in the café on the first floor.

Her juniors from the White Tower—belonging to other divisions—were talking about her.

It wasn’t the first time since her “heroics” at Mount Cheonsan, when she’d distributed relief supplies, that she’d heard such gossip. She wanted to pretend not to notice and walk on—but this time, the conversation was too ridiculous to ignore.

“I’m telling you, once word spread that the Saint of Salvation was coming, the demons panicked and abandoned their trap against Division 3.”

“They had no choice but to leave things to the Archduke, and even that failed.”

“And this is a secret, but… maybe it was Senior Moon Ah-rin who actually defeated that Archduke.”

“What!? But that’s still under investigation! Even the Commander-in-Chief said in the notice that the details were unclear…”

“Officially, sure. But the truth’s different. I accessed the Special Unit’s database recently and—well, I happened to see traces that someone tampered with the report.”

The woman—who seemed to be from the Counterintelligence Division—leaned closer to her friend and whispered the secret she knew.

It was the terrifying truth—that someone had tampered with several personnel records of Special Unit members.

“To hide their true strength?”

“That’s what it looks like. They even brought in professional hackers to cover it up neatly.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I noticed something strange on Commander Ha Yeri’s profile. Her height had been reduced by a few centimeters. If the Bureau hadn’t made a mistake, I would’ve never caught it.”

“Even subjugating Tartaruga was impressive, but if she also defeated an Archduke…”

“Exactly. We might soon witness the birth of a new Transcendent-level Awakened.”

Clatter!

The flowerpot she’d brought down from Tartaruga’s shell that morning—filled with a freshly dug sapling—slipped from her hands and shattered.

As heads turned toward her in the café, Moon Ah-rin didn’t even think to pick it up. She hurried straight into the elevator instead.

Her heart pounded so fast it hurt.

She was, at best, a white mage who could use a few healing spells.

In the three years since joining the Special Unit, her only progress had been a modest pay grade increase—her ability rank hadn’t risen at all.

And yet… she’d supposedly been hiding her true power?

The demons trembled before her, the Special Unit deferred to her, and even the Archduke of Flame had been said to have fallen to her hand.

Her radiant wings, once good for nothing but shining prettily, had somehow become capable of blinding the black mage Patel—and now people spoke of her as if she were a tactical weapon that could sweep across the entire peninsula in seconds.

Where did everything go wrong?

The rumors tangled and multiplied, spreading faster than she could track their source.

If there was one person she could suspect, it was the only person who knew the truth about her.

The clock read 2 PM. Moon Ah-rin furiously pressed the elevator button to head toward Division 3’s dormitory—to find Hayan, who was probably still napping after lunch.

“Ah—Ah-rin! Wait up!”

Someone came running, waving at the closing doors.

It was Shim Ha-yul, Deputy Commander of Division 6, who worked as a healer under Commander Ahn Seong-il.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. Where are you rushing off to? Another classified mission?”

“Eek!? N-no, nothing like that!”

“Oh, don’t be so modest. What’s that wound on your hand? Don’t tell me you got that fighting the Archduke of Flame?”

“N-no…!”

It’s okay, I know everything. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me—.

When Ha-yul said that with a playful wink, Moon Ah-rin felt her world collapse.

Even someone on the verge of reaching Upper Level looked at her now with awe—and the pressure twisted painfully in her stomach.

Her finger had simply been nicked while pruning Tartaruga’s branches.

Trying to calm her trembling heart, she asked,

“B-but, um, what brings you here? You said you were looking for me?”

“Yes. It’s nothing big, but you know that confessional booth installed at Training Ground 3? I was wondering if you could help out there for a bit.”

“Are you short on staff?”

“Not really. We can manage with our own people, but I figured if they knew you’d be the one receiving confessions, they might actually show up.”

She sighed, explaining that many agents who’d just returned from injury refused to attend treatment sessions.

Division 3, in particular, had one of the lowest participation rates—its members were stubborn, thinking they could overcome trauma with sheer willpower.

“You’re from the White Tower, right? You’ve probably done charity work and heard confessions before?”

“Well, that’s true, but… I’m technically part of the Firepower Support Unit.”

“I understand—it must be hard when you’re busy hunting the next Archduke…”

“No, no! I’m completely free!”

To stop the misunderstanding from spreading any further, Moon Ah-rin decided to help her.

She canceled the dormitory destination and changed floors.

Training Ground 3 was old and worn, its concrete floor still bearing the marks of sweat and battle.

Along one wall stood several makeshift wooden confession booths.

After sitting inside one of them for a while, she heard footsteps—the next penitent had entered.

“Welcome,” she greeted gently.

“Uh, y-yeah. So this place… it’s for confessing sins, right?”

“Normally, yes—but you can also come for advice. Is there anything troubling you lately?”

The voice that replied sounded cautious, as if this were their first time doing something like this.

“Well… I had this weird dream, you see…”

Clearing her mind and softening her tone, Moon Ah-rin listened quietly as the woman behind the lattice began confessing her secret.