A few nights ago.
After the plan to storm the pit was finalized and Kim Suhyun had finished announcing the team assignments.
“Huu…”
An Hyun stepped out of the tent and abruptly stopped in his tracks. He let out a heavy sigh, as if the weight of the world pressed down on him.
The usual spark in his eyes was gone. His gaze drooped, shoulders slumped—his face clearly clouded with gloom.
After a moment, he slowly tilted his head back and stared blankly up at the sky.
The night sky, sprinkled with starlight, was breathtakingly beautiful, yet it carried a profound stillness.
As he gazed upward, a sudden wave of melancholy flickered across An Hyun’s face. It was as if a memory stirred within him, and his eyes began to close slowly.
“An Hyun will be the choice.”
“Yes. We will call for Hyun.”
During the team announcement, Shin Jaeryong had chosen An Hyun. The words brought him both surprise and joy—he never expected anyone in the clan to call his name.
Still, An Hyun was happy. When Kim Suhyun said “someone who can support,” it meant choosing the most trustworthy person in many ways.
But then—
The reactions from the other clan members sent An Hyun’s spirits plummeting instantly.
Everyone seemed surprised.
Or maybe, it wasn’t really surprise at all.
Yeah. From their perspective, it was probably the obvious choice.
At some point, An Hyun had started to sense it faintly.
The cold looks cast his way after the Dragon-Sleeping Mountain incident.
The feeling of being an outsider.
And the vague anxiety that had taken root inside him.
Not clearly, but he felt it all the same.
Then came the words:
“We will give you one more chance to be called.”
The moment Kim Suhyun spoke, all those vague feelings surged forward, suddenly pressing close. A certain unease grew by the second.
What Kim Suhyun meant was clear without any need for interpretation.
But what drove An Hyun nearly mad was that he couldn’t deny it.
Because that was reality.
He had always followed Kim Suhyun, but had never truly accomplished anything.
He was always hidden in the shadows.
He had tried, too. Tried to do something on his own.
But every attempt ended in failure.
And this was the result.
“A user favored by the Mercenary Lord.”
“Rare class, Qi-Engineer.”
No one remembered the name “User An Hyun.”
When he finally realized this, a bone-deep ache settled in.
He felt utterly empty.
His confidence shattered.
He felt like a loner.
He just wanted to cry.
Then—
“Hyun-ah.”
A gentle voice echoed in his ear. Startled, An Hyun quickly turned his gaze away, looking in the opposite direction from where the voice came.
“Y-Yes, hyung? How long have you been there?”
He wiped his eyes quickly, trying to act like it was nothing. Shin Jaeryong’s face showed a hint of sympathy. He had been watching since An Hyun was staring at the sky.
Shin Jaeryong waited for An Hyun to calm down before speaking softly.
“…Is it because of what the clan lord said earlier?”
An Hyun didn’t respond. He stayed silent, lips pressed shut. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t.
“Don’t worry too much. Maybe it was just said out of concern. And anyway, you were still given permission, right?”
An Hyun nodded weakly, reluctantly. The fact that he still avoided Shin Jaeryong’s gaze said it all.
Feeling a bit awkward, Shin Jaeryong scratched the back of his head.
“Still, don’t take it too hard. You’ve given us plenty of headaches before, haven’t you? The Dragon-Sleeping Mountain incident, and that other one too… haha.”
He deliberately changed the subject and laughed cheerfully.
But An Hyun’s face only grew more sullen. The old An Hyun might have chuckled awkwardly and said, “Yeah, that’s true,” but today, it seemed to have the opposite effect.
Shin Jaeryong struggled to find the right words to comfort him, but everything sounded the same. Nothing fitting came to mind.
After a long pause, Shin Jaeryong suddenly took a step forward and gently placed a hand on An Hyun’s still-closed shoulders.
“There’s a saying I know.”
“…?”
“Everyone, at some point in their life, has a time when they shine.”
“…?”
At last, An Hyun responded, slowly turning his head to meet Shin Jaeryong’s eyes.
“A time when they shine…?”
His voice was thick with sadness.
“Yeah. A time when you shine.”
But Shin Jaeryong didn’t seem bothered by the gloom. Instead, he smiled broadly and nodded as if to say, “That’s just how it is.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“Hmm. What it means… well, I guess it can be interpreted in many ways. It’s not some grand phrase. Because everyone goes through it at least once. So it depends on the person.”
“…”
“For example, some might look back fondly on a carefree childhood. Others might remember their school days when they got good grades. And some might think of the time spent with someone they loved.”
Shin Jaeryong crossed his arms and gestured toward An Hyun, inviting him to share his thoughts.
“What about you?”
“…Me?”
An Hyun blinked, confused. He seemed to ponder for a moment, then gave a bitter smile.
“Well… nothing really comes to mind right now.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. When I was a kid… it was actually a pretty bleak time. We didn’t have a good family, after all. And I wasn’t exactly a good older brother either. So, no, I don’t really have any fond memories.”
“…Then what about here, in the Whole Plain?”
An Hyun shook his head, the bitter smile deepening.
Shin Jaeryong spoke again.
“Really nothing?”
“Honestly… I’m not sure anymore. I don’t even know if I’m doing well, or what I’m supposed to be doing…”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
“Somehow, I feel like I’m just drifting. Wandering without direction. Like I’m lost in a darkness where nothing is visible.”
For the first time, a glimpse of his true feelings slipped out. He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh and shrugged.
“Well, I guess that shining time just hasn’t come for me yet.”
“…That might be true.”
Shin Jaeryong narrowed his eyes slightly, then fell into deep thought.
A moment of silence passed.
Then, after fiddling with his nose for a while, Shin Jaeryong suddenly spoke quietly.
“I see. Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
An Hyun’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t fully understood Shin Jaeryong’s words from the start. His head shook side to side again.
“Hyung, I’m sorry, but I don’t really get what you’re saying…”
“Well…”
Suddenly, Shin Jaeryong’s lips curled into a sly smile.
Bam!
“Ugh… cough, cough!”
An Hyun burst into a harsh cough. A sharp sting ran down his back. In a moment of distraction, Shin Jaeryong’s broad hand had landed a firm pat on his back.
An Hyun looked at him, bewildered. Shin Jaeryong was still smiling.
“I’m telling you to hang in there, you idiot.”
“Y-Yes?”
An Hyun replied hesitantly.
“Like the clan lord said, if you ever have to fight alone, who’s the first person you should look for and protect?”
“Of course, it’s you, hyung. That’s how the squad is set up.”
“Right. I chose you because I trust you the most. But if you’re just standing here like this, how do you think I feel after calling your name?”
“W-Well…”
He tried to say something but trailed off, unable to find the words. Shin Jaeryong gave his shoulder a reassuring tap.
“Anyway, enough feeling sorry for yourself. Go get some rest. A good sleep will make you feel better.”
Still reluctant, An Hyun bowed reflexively.
“…Yes, I will. You have a good night too, hyung.”
Slowly, he turned and began walking back toward the tents.
Shin Jaeryong watched him go, his gaze softening. An Hyun’s steps were still weak, though better than before.
After about thirty paces, Shin Jaeryong called out in a slightly louder voice.
“Hyun-ah. There’s something I forgot to tell you.”
An Hyun paused, puzzled, and turned back.
“Just remember this one thing.”
Shin Jaeryong raised his hand dramatically.
“The light in a shining time…”
He smiled gently and winked.
“…shines brightest in the darkest places.”
An Hyun lunged forward, swinging his spear. He charged straight at Joo Hyunho just before the latter could finish casting his spell.
Joo Hyunho sneered as An Hyun rushed in. He leaned back lightly, narrowly dodging the spear’s tip, then calmly reached out his hand.
An Hyun immediately bent his waist, evading the move.
Suddenly, a blinding flash erupted, followed by a deafening explosion. The blast was so powerful that the air trembled, and the earth beneath them was gouged deep.
Moments later, someone was flung through the air. It was Ahn Hyun.
He flipped gracefully midair and landed lightly on the ground. Without missing a beat, he charged at Joo Hyun-ho again. But Joo Hyun-ho, having sized up Ahn Hyun’s skill, remained calm and composed.
Ahn Hyun assumed the same stance as before and thrust his spear forward.
Then—
A sudden gust of wind swept through Joo Hyun-ho’s hair.
In that instant, the spear, which had been flying straight, wavered violently up and down, its trajectory shifting unexpectedly.
“Huh?”
Sensing something was off, Joo Hyun-ho’s eyes widened in shock.
“Ha!”
Matching his opponent’s move, Ahn Hyun let out a sharp shout and lunged at Joo Hyun-ho.
Clang! The sound of metal striking metal rang out fiercely as Joo Hyun-ho was pushed back.
What was happening all of a sudden?
But before he could even process it, Ahn Hyun pressed the attack relentlessly. Keeping a certain distance, he moved erratically left and right, striking with his spear again and again.
Caught off guard by the dizzying onslaught, Joo Hyun-ho’s mind began to spin.
Then, in a flash, Ahn Hyun’s body slid diagonally, brushing past Joo Hyun-ho’s left side. With a sharp upward sweep from below, he swung his black spear at an angle.
A sudden strike—too fast to see or dodge.
Instinctively, Joo Hyun-ho jerked his head back and twisted his body with all his might.
Swish!
It was like a fierce motor whirring past his nose—chilling to the bone.
Glancing down, he caught sight of Ahn Hyun’s fierce gaze, eyes blazing, with tear streaks still fresh on his cheeks.
Without realizing it, Joo Hyun-ho clenched his teeth.