When we left the southern fortress, the sun hung high in the sky, but as time passed, it gradually dipped westward, fading into twilight. The once blazing sunlight softened, and the dense forests of the mountain range, bathed in deep dusk, blended into a breathtaking panorama.
The occasional cool breeze stirred the air, almost giving the feeling of a leisurely picnic—but that was a dangerous thought to entertain. Sure, the weather was perfect for marching today, but from the monsters’ perspective, it was just as ideal for them to be active.
Keeping my guard up, I led the clan members steadily southward after leaving the fortress. Or rather, we were following the exact route taken by the northern expeditionary force that had gone ahead of us.
In truth, I wanted to push hard and catch up quickly. But this mission was all about staying undetected, and I had to consider the condition of my clan members as well.
Whether it’s exploration or an expedition, the fatigue that sets in after a campaign doesn’t just vanish overnight. For example, if an expedition lasts a month, you’d need at least two to three months to fully recover.
Given that, staying continuously on edge in the Steel Mountains—not a comfortable clan house—meant exhaustion wouldn’t fade easily. Even if I could endure with my 100-point stamina, many of the clan members were visibly worn down. Though they hid it well, I knew they were struggling.
Considering the northern expedition was moving in large numbers, we didn’t need to overexert ourselves; we could catch up soon enough.
With that in mind, I adjusted our marching pace to keep everyone comfortable. The one small mercy was that, since we set out, no monsters had attacked us—even as the sun was setting.
As we left the dense forest and entered a valley, a wide plain suddenly stretched out before us. To the south, gentle rolling hills extended far and wide, and beside the open path, a calm stream reflected the beautiful glow of the sunset. It was an ideal spot to camp.
Realizing it was about time, I glanced up at the sky and raised my hand sharply.
“We’ll end the march here for today. Everyone, prepare to camp.”
A cheer of “Hooray!” erupted from the clan members, who immediately sprang into action. They dug into the earth, gathered branches, and built a campfire. They piled up fallen leaves and laid out sleeping bags. Magic stones were embedded around the perimeter, forming a protective barrier. It was as if they’d been waiting eagerly for this moment.
While the camp was coming together quickly, a savory aroma soon wafted through the air. After a grueling march, the much-anticipated mealtime had arrived.
…Actually, midway through, Nam Da-eun and Vivian had volunteered to take charge of dinner—a near disaster in the making—but thankfully, Seon Yoo-woon’s fierce opposition stopped them. Clan members who had tasted their cooking during a festival didn’t find Seon Yoo-woon’s attitude odd at all; they joked that no one wanted to die from eating their food.
“Everyone, dinner’s ready~.”
Soon after, a familiar, languid voice reached my ears. Ko Yeon-ju lifted a large pot of boiling stew, swirling the ladle with practiced ease. The clan members, having just finished setting up camp and resting in the shade, almost simultaneously rose and rushed over.
Tonight’s menu was the usual: meat stew. Some might find it repetitive, but when Ko Yeon-ju was the cook, it was a different story. The Shadow Queen’s culinary skills were so exceptional that even the most discerning gourmets would give her a thumbs-up.
“Sis! Hurry up and serve! Come on!”
Jin Soo-hyun, who’d claimed first place in line, stomped impatiently, holding out his bowl eagerly. Ko Yeon-ju tapped the pot lightly with her ladle and teased him gently.
“Why are you so restless?”
But Jin Soo-hyun paid no mind.
“Come on, hurry! Don’t you hear my stomach growling? Seeing your food makes my head spin!”
“Oh dear. You’d think I starved you for days.”
Ko Yeon-ju shook her head with a soft smile. As the cook, she couldn’t help but be pleased by such enthusiasm. Which chef wouldn’t love a customer who was dying to eat their food?
“Well, no matter how much you beg, the meat portions are fixed.”
She said that, but she ladled a generous helping into his bowl. Jin Soo-hyun cheered loudly and dashed off. Watching this, the other clan members exchanged knowing looks.
Then, as the flood of compliments poured toward Ko Yeon-ju, I couldn’t help but chuckle. She laughed along, responding to each praise, while only Heo Jun-young, last in line, held out his bowl with a stoic expression, guarding his pride.
Once everyone had been served, it was finally my turn. I could have gone first, but this was a small courtesy. I slowly approached Ko Yeon-ju, who was staring blankly into the pot. …Wait, why was she just standing there like that?
“Huh.”
The moment I looked into the pot, I understood. The stew, which had been full just moments ago, was now completely empty.
“S-Soo-hyun, I’m sorry. I got carried away serving and didn’t realize…”
Ko Yeon-ju’s apologetic voice trailed off. I had suspected she might be swept up in all the flattery earlier.
…Well, it can’t be helped.
“It’s fine. I’ll just scrape out whatever’s left, or we can all chip in.”
I shrugged and peered inside the pot. There were bits of stew clinging to the sides that could be scraped together.
“Oh, really.”
But just then, a bowl was suddenly thrust in front of me.
“You can’t even joke around with you, Soo-hyun.”
The bowl was filled to the brim with steaming hot meat stew—an overwhelmingly generous portion.
Not only that, but while the others had just plain stew, my bowl was garnished with a familiar green herb, neatly arranged. A strange feeling washed over me, and I activated my third eye.
『Meat Stew.』
(Description: A delicious meat stew infused with Pagra. Prepared by user Ko Yeon-ju, this dish carries a wish for intimacy with someone.
*Pagra: A type of herb known for significantly boosting male virility.)
……
This was way too candid… What nonsense was Hwa-jeong spouting now?
I shook my head and spoke.
“K-Ko Yeon-ju, this is…”
But before I could finish—
“Of course I haven’t forgotten about you, Soo-hyun. You’re not upset, are you?”
She spoke sweetly, but her eyes gleamed fiercely, as if saying, “If you use it on someone else, I won’t forgive you.”
No matter what I said, she was relentless.
“Come on, come on~ I packed it full, so dig in. Stew tastes best when it’s hot, you know?”
Despite my reluctance, I was nudged forward and had no choice but to join the meal line, feeling a bit uneasy.
The night deepened with an oddly sensual air.
Though dusk had settled over the mountains, the northern expedition’s camp shone brightly. Guards stood watch here and there, while some users moved busily about.
The reason? The giant had awakened. Not only that, but it had regained consciousness and even showed some reaction upon seeing the users. It was clear this was an intelligent being—a rare piece of good news.
However, an unexpected problem arose.
We couldn’t understand what the giant was saying.
Late at night.
A man swiftly crossed the camp and entered a tent, pulling back the flap.
“Lord Brain Emperor, we’ve found a way.”
Kim Yoo-hyun, seated and deep in thought, snapped his head up at the report.
“A way? You say you’ve found a way?”
“Yes.”
The man replied, then suddenly turned his gaze toward the tent’s entrance. Moments later, the curtain covering the entrance was drawn aside, and someone slowly stepped in. A man with a sparse beard and a slightly protruding belly—someone who looked well-built in a kindly way.
“You are…”
“I’m user Yang Ki-deok.”
The man strode forward with a gentle smile and extended his hand. Kim Yoo-hyun lightly clasped it.
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m user Kim Yoo-hyun.”
“Yes, I know. I heard you’re having trouble communicating with the giant.”
The trouble referred to the giant’s blood, which resisted all magic. It was a serious obstacle.
There’s a saying: translation magic only works as well as the mutual understanding between parties.
Translation magic isn’t like ordinary spells that end with a simple incantation; it’s a form of magic developed through users’ research, based on the ‘application of mana circuits.’ Although its effect is temporary, because it forcibly makes the target hear a language, the caster must maintain the precise flow of mana they’ve defined without fail.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t that Kim Yuhyun couldn’t cast translation magic on the giant.
But even if he tried to force it, the moment the mana resistance disrupted the steady flow required for translation magic, the spell would completely fall apart.
Of course, it didn’t have to be cast on the opponent—it could be cast on oneself as well.
However, as mentioned earlier, translation magic can only be used to the extent that the user understands the language. Without any knowledge of the ancient tongue, Kim Yuhyun found himself in a dilemma.
“That blasted mana resistance is the problem… By the way, I heard you found a way around it.”
“That’s right. Actually, I’ve been studying the ancient language too, but aside from that, I have a special ability. I can’t be certain, though…”
Yang Gideok rummaged through his belongings and carefully placed something on the table. It gleamed with a clear light—it was a crystal orb.
“This is…?”
Kim Yuhyun asked with a puzzled look. Yang Gideok smiled faintly and spoke.
“Seeing is believing. Since I’m not entirely sure either, let’s start with an experiment. I’ll explain the basics as we go.”
Kim Yuhyun, who had already given up on advancing today, didn’t hesitate. Grasping the two crystal orbs, he stepped out of the tent with Yang Gideok. Their destination was the pillar where the giant was bound.
As they walked, Yang Gideok explained.
“These two orbs each contain a recorded voice. One is in Korean, the other in the ancient language I know.”
“Ancient language…?”
“I carefully listened to the words the giant spoke after waking up. From my analysis, he often mentioned the word ‘Humanum.’”
“Do you know what it means?”
“No.”
“…”
“But among the ancient words I know, there’s one with a similar spelling: ‘Homo,’ which means ‘human.’ Would you like to listen to the two orbs first?”
Yang Gideok’s voice was excited and rapid, almost urging Kim Yuhyun to try it immediately. Since he was already holding them, Kim Yuhyun raised both hands without hesitation.
“The method is simple. Channel your mana into the orbs, but don’t just activate them—activate them following the usual flow of translation magic.”
In the distance, the pillar came into view. Kim Yuhyun obediently summoned his mana and initiated the translation magic on the orbs.
“And then?”
And then, at that moment—
(And then?)
(Quid Ergo?)
Suddenly, two different languages flowed out from the orbs. Kim Yuhyun’s eyes widened, and a slight smile tugged at the corner of Yang Gideok’s mouth.
“It’s a success.”
(It’s a success.)
(Pro Eo.)
Again, the same.
Yang Gideok’s idea was simple: he recorded the Korean and ancient language pronunciations into each orb, then used his unique ability, ‘mana imprinting,’ to embed mana into the voices.
When the mana-imbued voices play back, they can respond to newly incoming mana. It was a rather innovative idea inspired by voice translators.
Of course, it wasn’t without its problems.
Mana imprinting isn’t permanent, and even if the same magic is used without disrupting the flow, the mana wavelengths of the inputter and the caster differ. As a result, the device is single-use with a very short duration.
Also, since it forcibly translates everything heard, its efficiency in public spaces is quite low, and since it hasn’t been fully tested, it can’t guarantee 100% accurate translation. On top of that, only mages who have mastered ‘mana circuit application’ can use it.
“Well, mass production might be possible, but there are still many issues. It’s not ready for commercial use.”
“Still, it’s impressive. How did you come up with this idea…?”
Yang Gideok clicked his tongue and scratched his head, but Kim Yuhyun spoke with genuine admiration. Honestly, he had almost given up and thought about just killing the giant and moving on, but in the end, they found a way.
Feeling a bit embarrassed by the praise, Yang Gideok gave a sheepish smile.
“Ha ha. Anyway, let’s hurry. We’re almost there.”
---------------------------= Author’s Note =---------------------------
Night Of Beginning.
That’s what it means.
From this part onward… some of you might be a little disappointed in Kim Yuhyun.