THIFSGSTW CH 60

Chapter 60: Just in case.

As soon as I finished speaking, my master’s voice followed immediately.

[It’s you, Yihan.]

I clenched my sleeves tightly. There was only one thing I had to say. This wasn’t the time for other words, nor was it the time for other thoughts. I just had to say it out loud. It wasn’t difficult.

“Am I really not allowed to enter the temple building?”

[It’s difficult for now.]

“I know now that I have the power of a god. There’s something I need to ask. Even so, is it still not possible?”

[The god has revealed it to you, I see. I’m sorry, but it’s still not time yet.]

The response was calm. My teacher knew I was a sacrifice. Of course. It was natural. It was just that I didn’t want to accept it.

As I took a moment to compose myself, my teacher continued speaking.

[The Heroes have promised to visit early next year. Come then.]

I turned my head toward Park Yul. He nodded.

Early next year. It was a long wait, but time passed quickly with these people. It didn’t feel so far away.

Besides, everyone would be busy anyway. Rather than making time just for me, it seemed better to follow the already set schedule.

The sooner, the better. But in truth, there was no problem even if it was delayed. I understood that what was important to me might not be important to others. I didn’t want to push my urgency onto them recklessly.

[It’s difficult for now, but if you ever come again someday, Yihan-ah… I will make time for you then.]

I couldn’t see my teacher’s expression. The crystal was nearly completely dispersed. Perhaps because of that, the voice reaching me sounded faintly unsteady.

At that moment, the words I hadn’t intended to say slipped out.

“Teacher, you knew from the beginning, didn’t you? That I received the power of a god.”

[Yes, I knew.]

“Then… the way you treated me all this time…”

Before I could finish, the crystal crumbled completely into dust. Nothing remained.

Tiny glowing blue particles fluttered like dust over the desk. What was left in that space was only an empty silence.

That was when I felt a gentle warmth wrap around my shoulder. Park Yul softly patted my shoulder and spoke.

“Yihan, should we try contacting them again?”

“…It’s okay. This is enough. Thank you.”

The connection had been severed completely, but I was more okay than I had expected. Even to the point of surprising myself. Maybe because, no matter what my teacher’s answer had been, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.

I thought I understood why. Because my master was no longer everything to me. The temple was a place I had long since left behind.

‘What fills my existence now is…’

I lifted my head and looked around the room. Park Yul, Raen, Song Ha-gyeon, and Min Joo-hyuk were all here.

It wasn’t empty silence. This place had always been filled without a single gap. And I was here as well. That’s why it was okay.

‘I see. It was all of you.’

At some point, I had become a part of this place. A part of their warmth. For some reason, my heart was beating fast. I wanted to bury my face in my hands and calm down a bit. I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling.

On some nights, when not even a single star is visible, the sky looks utterly empty. But if you endure that night, a new sun rises. Perhaps the sky was never truly empty in the first place. 

The night could not last forever. Another day was bound to dawn.

Sunlight was beginning to fill the sky.

◇

Time had passed quickly. Tomorrow, we would set out again.

The weather had grown considerably hotter. Now, the air carried by the wind was humid and warm. The sun’s rays were glaringly bright.

A lot had happened, and everyone had been busy. To be honest, I felt a little shy and embarrassed around them all of a sudden, so I wasn’t sure how the time had passed.

Maybe because I was finally, truly realizing that I was by their side.

So, I didn’t remember everything that had happened clearly.

We ate. We slept. We talked….

What had we talked about? But it didn’t seem like they had asked me anything particular.

Just simple things, like what foods I liked, how I was feeling, what I wanted to do during our break, how life had been in the temple, whether I was sensitive to the heat. Just ordinary things.

In the meantime, I had sorted through my shaken emotions. Now, I could set off with a completely refreshed mindset. Everything was perfect.

I was sitting on the windowsill in Song Ha-gyeon’s room, my notebook resting on my knees, a pencil in my hand. I bit down lightly on the pencil tip before bringing it to the paper.

[Is a sacrifice truly necessary?]

I was jotting down what I needed to ask the God. Since there was still plenty of time until early next year, I had to record my thoughts whenever they came to mind.

When I was a child, the god had told me that the one making the sacrifice wasn’t me. But didn’t that mean someone else had to be sacrificed? Was it impossible for no one to be sacrificed?

[Why did you call me a sacrifice?]

Being a sacrifice meant being someone already sacrificed for something else, right? But I wasn’t exactly like that. I wasn’t enduring any suffering, nor was I dying.

Then why had I been called a sacrifice?

‘Hmm, no. I am curious about this, but it’s not the most important thing.’

I needed to distinguish between questions born out of curiosity and those that were truly necessary. If my time to speak with the god was limited, I had to ask the latter first. I scribbled an additional note beside the sentence.

[Why did you call me a sacrifice? (Not particularly important.)]

And what else? Oh, right.

[Are those things really the will of the god?]

By ‘those things,’ I meant the quests given by the system. Just in case someone else saw my notes, I kept it vague. Although, realistically, no one was likely to see them, it was always best to be prepared.

Looking at the circumstances alone, the system itself seemed to be powered by divine energy. But considering the quests shoved in my face, it felt unclear.

If every quest was truly the god’s will, did that mean the god just wanted to test me? I still didn’t understand.

I left my notebook open and agonized over it for a long time, but nothing else came to mind. For now, this would have to do.

Come to think of it, the first things I wrote in the notebook Min Joo-hyuk gave me were like this. I felt a little bad about it. Well, I hadn’t drawn in it or anything, but I was still using it pretty thoroughly…

“Sun Yi-han.”

A voice sounded right beside me. Startled, I snapped the notebook shut.

I turned my head toward the voice. Looking out through the open window, I saw Min Joo-hyuk floating in midair. Right next to me, at that.

“Why are you h-here?”

My words came out broken and hesitant. Had he seen what I was writing? I hadn’t planned on getting caught just yet. Min Joo-hyuk blinked wide-eyed, then grinned. He reached out and pressed a fingertip against my forehead before pulling it away.

“What? Why are you so surprised? Were you thinking about me or something?”

His voice was casual, as if nothing was amiss. Thankfully, it seemed like he hadn’t seen anything. I naturally tucked the notebook into my arms. Min Joo-hyuk, watching me from where I sat on the windowsill, spoke again, his expression composed.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing. What about you?”

Why was he floating outside a second-floor window, anyway? A cool breeze seemed to swirl around him, cutting through the summer heat. The light wind ruffled my hair as it passed.

“Me? Nothing much. Can I come in?”

Before I could answer, Min Joo-hyuk easily hopped over the windowsill and into my room. The abruptness of it all left me staring at him in disbelief. He took a seat in the chair across from me.

“You’re leaving tomorrow, right? I came to let you know.”

Ah, so that was it. I nodded.

“We’re heading to a village near the valley.”

“A village?”

Raen had mentioned the same thing.

‘There’s one village that hasn’t responded. We’re going there first.’

If something serious had happened, they would have at least sent word. But there had been nothing. That was why we’d decided to check it out first.

Min Joo-hyuk continued speaking. “Yeah. You’ve only ever stayed at the temple, right? It might be a bit uncomfortable for you.”

“What would be uncomfortable?”

“Meeting a lot of people all at once.”

“…Are there a lot of people?”

I didn’t particularly like being in crowded places. When surrounded by the sound of clicking footsteps and a cacophony of voices, I always felt like my presence gradually faded, buried beneath the noise. Like I might forget I was even there. Like I might slowly become transparent and disappear.

Min Joo-hyuk’s expression hardened briefly. Then, reaching out, he roughly tousled my hair.

“Nah, don’t worry. It’s a small village. Not too many people. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“Then it’s fine.”

“That’s good. But if it gets too much, let me know. I’ll be right there with you.”

Min Joo-hyuk held my gaze. Only when I nodded did he continue speaking.

“We might not be able to return to Redeo until the end of the year.”

“Yeah. There are a lot of places we need to check. We’ll probably be moving non-stop.”

Min Joo-hyuk lifted a hand and gave a small wave in my direction. A cool breeze slipped through the sweltering air, swirling around me like a gentle whirlwind, wrapping me in its refreshing touch.

After hesitating for a moment, he spoke again, his tone serious.

“If there are a lot of rifts opening, there will be more injuries too.”

“We’ll have to be careful.”

“We always are. But when fighting off the monsters, it’s inevitable that we end up in bad shape.”

That made sense. They were already dealing with these creatures in small numbers. If the monsters were spreading to different locations, things would only get more complicated.

It seemed like everyone was trying to plan for various scenarios. But if the way these creatures attacked changed depending on the region, it wouldn’t be easy to account for everything.

“In the Nightfall Forest, we wrapped things up a lot faster thanks to you. I appreciate that.”

Min Joo-hyuk clenched his fist for a moment before relaxing it. Then, with no hint of his usual playfulness, he added,

“But we need to think long-term. Don’t push yourself too hard. Even if what you’re using is divine power, there could still be a price to pay.”

“There’s no price. I know that for sure.”

I had to say this firmly. I hadn’t expected him to still be thinking that way, even after I’d already told him otherwise.

Min Joo-hyuk looked at me, his gaze wavering slightly. His eyes traced over me from my fingertips to the rest of my body, as if checking for something. Then, in an unusually slow and deliberate voice, he asked,

“…So you’ve never paid a price? Not even once?”

“Yeah. Not even once.”

“Not even at the temple?”

“Why are you bringing up the temple? No, not even there.”

“……”

Min Joo-hyuk fell silent for a moment, then snapped his fingers. The refreshing breeze that had been swirling around me vanished instantly. My hair, which had been lifted by the wind, settled back down.

By the time I looked at him again, he was already wearing a grin.

“Aren’t you hot?”

His tone was lighthearted. Wait, what? That transition was way too fast.

“Didn’t you just cancel your spell?”

“So, are you hot?”

“Not really. Why?”

Min Joo-hyuk dropped his head slightly, letting out a deep breath. I thought I heard him mutter, This isn’t easy. After a brief pause, he abruptly lifted his head again.

“I’m hot.”

That was fair. But there wasn’t much I could do about it. I simply nodded, watching him.

“Sun Yihan, just looking at you all bundled up like that makes it hard to breathe.”

Min Joo-hyuk suddenly stood up from his seat and strode toward me. Standing over where I sat on the windowsill, he gazed down at me. His grip on my shoulders tightened, veins subtly showing on the back of his hands.

“Why don’t you take off your clothes?”

His voice was earnest. Did I hear that right?