Chapter 37

The lakeshore, where darkness had begun to settle, was silent.

Ethan trampled through the dense thicket of trees and pressed forward with long strides.

There wasn't a shred of hesitation in his steps. But his expression and the corners of his mouth had gone ice-cold.

"Kang, kang kang!"

Ethan followed the sky foxes' cries echoing from the distance as his guide.

He knew with absolute certainty that the person he was looking for would be at the end of those cries.

Crunch, crunch.

Ethan had been staring straight ahead as he walked when he stopped dead.

Beneath a lantern tree that cast a gentle glow.

A battered figure sat slumped against the trunk.

"Mikhail."

The sky foxes had kept him from falling into the lake, but the deep wounds remained as they were.

Blood dripped steadily from his pierced shoulder, and from the corner of his slightly parted mouth as well.

"......"

Ethan bit down on his lip as his eyes swept over the state of his opponent.

His gaze drifted slowly before locking onto the place where it had changed—Mikhail's left arm.

Like a piece of the Milky Way transplanted onto skin, the dark blue surface rippled languidly, white fragments drifting above it.

From the fingertips resting on the ground, deep-sea-colored fluid kept seeping out.

Hisss.

The grass that touched the fluid blackened and died.

The same way it had in Haeohreum Forest and the Firefly Cavern.

"......"

Ethan lowered his trembling eyes and clenched his fist.

Resentment, disbelief, the absurdity of it all, anger. Negative emotions tangled into a single mass and tore through him, but he forced them down.

The emergency came first.

Crunch.

Ethan approached Mikhail, dropped to one knee, and examined his injuries.

Mikhail's condition was beyond wretched—it was pitiful. The bleeding was severe. At this rate, it wouldn't be strange if he lost consciousness any second.

Ethan reached out and spoke.

"Mikhail, let's head back. We need to treat your wounds first..."

Thud.

But the attempt to lift him was useless.

Mikhail jerked his right arm stiffly and pushed Ethan's hand away.

A hoarse voice drifted from beneath his deeply bowed head.

"...Get off me."

"You're in bad shape. We can talk later..."

"Don't...do anything...unnecessary."

Mikhail shoved Ethan away again.

There was no strength in that hand whatsoever, but it was enough to stop Ethan in his tracks.

Ethan stared at Mikhail, frozen where he stood.

"......"

But the stillness lasted only a moment.

Ethan clenched the hand he'd extended toward Mikhail and scrunched his brow tight.

The emotions he'd barely managed to settle churned back up.

Everything he'd been suppressing behind a mask of composure began leaking through his lips.

"Cut the crap. Why the hell should I listen to you?"

A fierce gleam lit Ethan's gray eyes. His voice climbed to a razor's edge.

"There's shameless, and then there's you. Picking fights over every little thing wasn't enough—you treated me like an idiot on top of it, and now you have the nerve to give me orders? Who do you think you...!"

Ethan barely managed to bite off the rest.

After a couple rounds of heated, ragged breathing, his mouth twisted into an unmistakable sneer.

"Oh, right—you're the precious young master of a famous family, is that it? So stringing along some nobody orphan like me was nothing to you. Look at yourself. Even now, no matter the situation, you just dig your heels in. Testing how far I'll...!"

"Ethan."

A string of hacking, dry coughs spilled from Mikhail's lowered mouth.

Mikhail raised his head with grinding effort.

His half-lidded eyes fixed on Ethan's face, and the blood-crusted corner of his mouth twisted.

"Whatever you're saying... my head's ringing so bad... I can barely hear you."

Ethan blinked with the look of someone who'd been smacked in the back of the head, then let out an empty breath and raked his hair back.

Sheer disbelief was written all over his face.

Mikhail managed a weak, crooked grin, swallowed a couple of ragged breaths past his throat, and spoke again.

"Hey... don't ask, don't question... just hide me... and take a favor you can cash in later."

His fumbling words came through gasps that sounded like he might die any second, yet there was something in his tone that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

Ethan looked down at Mikhail, ground his teeth, and swallowed the heat rising in his chest.

Mikhail Senit. Truly, every single time. The one person who never failed to turn his insides out.

"—Mikhail! Ethan!"

"Can you guys hear us? If you can, answer!"

Right then. From somewhere far away, voices calling both their names began echoing through the trees.

Ethan stared at the approaching signs of people, then turned his head toward Mikhail.

Mikhail's arm was slowly returning to its original form, but even so, the dark blue tint still lingered.

"Hah."

Ethan let out a sharp sigh.

He bent over the collapsed Mikhail and tore a clean section of his own sleeve clean off.

With practiced hands, he bound the wound on Mikhail's shoulder to stop the bleeding.

"......"

Mikhail watched Ethan without a word.

Soon Ethan slung Mikhail's arm over his shoulder and took a step in the opposite direction of the approaching voices.

Crunch.

A few steps in, Mikhail lifted his eyes.

What his vision—on the verge of going black at any moment—locked onto was a golden star hanging in the night sky.

Mikhail stared at the star as it slowly faded. Then he dropped his head and let out a quiet laugh.

---

Meanwhile, around that same time.

Atop a fortress laid across the snowfields of the North, inside a vast hall at the peak of the citadel, a man raised his head.

A young man whose features were the spitting image of Mikhail's.

"......"

The entire front wall was covered in glass so pristine not a single speck of dust marred it. The vast night sky rushed in like a rising tide.

Step.

One person standing in the hall. The great mage who governed the North.

Joseph Senit took a step toward the magical formation that had been protecting his son's fate.

Hisss.

The staff in his hand flared with vivid light for a brief moment.

Joseph's dark blue hair began turning white as snow.

Transformed in an instant, Joseph extended the staff forward and planted it upright on the floor.

Crack-crack-crack!

It was instantaneous. The orb mounted on the staff blazed to life, and countless magic circles etched themselves across the stars fixed in the sky above.

Lines, rings, and characters wove together into formations shaped like massive gates, flooding the room with pale blue light.

Joseph faced forward and reached out his hand.

His fingertips came to rest on the magic circle inscribed before his eyes.

Crack!

The magic circle pulsed powerfully beneath his touch.

The formations that had been blazing with blinding light soon settled as if calming themselves, and began emitting only a soft, steady glow.

"......"

Joseph moved his hand. Tapping, sweeping, circling.

The magic circles shifted their forms in response. Interlocking, layering, rotating. Like musicians following a conductor's baton.

Crackle.

Then it happened. An ominous fracturing sound cut through the seamless harmony.

Joseph turned his head toward the upper right.

A magic circle inscribed over a golden star that pulsed with eerie light was splitting apart.

"...!"

Joseph stared at the crumbling formation, bit his lip hard, and thrust out his hand.

Crack!

Snow-white mana poured from Joseph's fingertips in a torrent.

The entire web of formations blazed bright as it received the mana, and the lines composing the formulas grew sharper and more defined.

Crackle, crackle.

But not every formula was made whole again.

The fracture born in the right corner only kept widening.

Intact formations radiating light collided with cracked ones riddled with fissures.

As if locked in a contest of strength, the entire array of magic circles shuddered and trembled.

Shatter!

In the end, the magic circle above the golden star broke into pieces. The shattered shapes lost their light and crumbled away like broken glass.

Joseph stared straight ahead and staggered. A crack appeared for one instant across his otherwise expressionless face.

"...!"

But then—something in the sky above made Joseph's red eyes fly open so wide they looked ready to tear.

An indigo cosmos revealed where the formula had shattered.

The golden dwarf star that had blazed with searing light until just moments ago was losing its power, flickering faintly.

...Blink.

The trembling golden light finally tipped, dimming as it tilted—and went dark. It crumbled from the edges first, its remnants dissolving into the dark blue void.

...Before long, only silence lay across the night sky. Even the faintest trace of gold had vanished completely.

Joseph lowered his head.

"......"

His ragged breathing gradually subsided.

Joseph reached toward the glass once more and pressed strength into his fingertips.

—Keeeeen!

A resonant hum filled the room as snow-white mana flowed from Joseph's fingertips.

The emerging mana set about repairing the damaged formation.

It surged toward the empty spaces, tracing magic circles over the blank margins, then shone with vivid clarity.

The formation was restored—whole again, just as it had been before.

Joseph lowered his outstretched hand and straightened his posture. A flush of color returned to his pale skin.

Snap.

The moment Joseph flicked his fingers, the magic circles vanished completely.

The staff that had stood alone casting its light returned to Joseph's hand.

His hair, which had turned white as eternal snow, shifted back to dark blue.

Joseph turned, the night sky at his back.

"......"

He opened and closed his eyelids slowly, as if deep in thought.

Then he raised his hand and drew a line straight down through the air. A portal glowing dark violet opened its mouth.

Crack!

What appeared through the gap in the portal was an enormous library.

Shelves packed with countless books lined the walls on every side.

On the purple carpet covering the floor, young branches of a World Tree sprouted, unfurling silver leaves.

Step.

Joseph gazed at the trunk scattering silver fragments like snowfall, then stepped through the portal.

The brilliant light that flared to life swallowed his figure whole.

---

Mikhail rejoined the convoy after deep night had fallen.

The moment he appeared, battered beyond recognition, gasps and worried voices poured in from every direction.

"Hemostatic agent and wound potion first— get them—! The moment the healer arrives, send them here—!"

...Frantic voices buzzed in his ears.

Mikhail had been leaning against the cot, and the instant he confirmed medicine being poured over his wounds, he lost consciousness.

"......"

And then...

How much time had passed?

Rustle, rustle.

Something seemed to be fluttering nearby. Mikhail pried open his leaden eyelids.

"Where..."

Mikhail murmured in a cracked voice and turned his head to the side.

A banner bearing Salvator Academy's crest hung across the wall.

Through the clear windows, warm sunlight streamed in.

It was a bright afternoon.