“It’s me.”
Hearing the voice, Kim Su-hyun turned his eyes and let out a small gasp.
A gentle breeze stirred the air. The campfire, once blazing fiercely, now flickered and danced with the wind’s movement. Sparks scattered slowly, some drifting toward the woman, illuminating her in the shadowed moonlight.
Han So-young approached with calm composure and gracefully settled opposite Kim Su-hyun. Without a word—no polite request or hesitation—she stretched out her slender, smooth fingers toward the fire, warming them in the cold light.
Her boldness could have been seen as rude, but somehow, with Han So-young, it felt perfectly fitting. Even Kim Su-hyun found himself momentarily speechless, his gaze unwilling to stray.
She was truly a woman worthy of the title “beauty of the nation.” At twenty-nine, Han So-young’s body radiated the mature scent of a fully grown woman. Every cool breeze carried a subtle, intoxicating fragrance that ignited the deep, pressing desire within him.
Her long legs and shapely, well-toned thighs exuded a ripe sensuality—how could any man resist? It was no wonder Kim Su-hyun was left staring blankly.
Of course, Han So-young was well aware of this. Or rather, she could feel it. Her heightened senses caught every lingering glance fixed on her firm thighs, every lascivious spark in his eyes.
That primal desire creeping in—normally, it would have made her grit her teeth in disgust.
“Seems like you’re interested…”
Yet, ironically, Han So-young felt a strange sense of relief.
A woman’s psychology is truly mysterious. Regardless of looks or status, if she dislikes someone, even the prettiest gestures are met with suspicion. But if she likes someone, even their worst behavior can bring a smile and unwavering attention. Han So-young was likely no exception.
Resting her chin on her hand, she watched the man who clearly belonged to the latter category. But no matter how long she waited, Kim Su-hyun showed no sign of breaking free from his trance. Instead, his gaze slowly drifted deeper between her thighs.
Han So-young sighed inwardly. Then, suddenly, she spread her legs wide in an M shape—wide enough to reveal the black lace of her G-string underwear.
“Pfft!”
Caught off guard, Kim Su-hyun coughed forcefully. Now fully aware of the situation, he looked at her in flustered embarrassment.
But Han So-young remained boldly seated, legs still parted. Her steady gaze seemed to scold him silently: “So you wanted to look? Well, go ahead then.”
“Ah, ah, ah, hello.”
Kim Su-hyun managed a greeting, albeit very late. Han So-young nodded calmly, folding her knees.
“Yes.”
“What brings you here…?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Excuse me?”
The moment Kim Su-hyun questioned, Han So-young’s eyes narrowed slightly. He’d just fallen into her least favorite habit—pretending not to hear what he clearly did.
“Oh, yes. I heard you.”
Realizing his mistake, Kim Su-hyun hurried to correct himself, but the damage was done. He blinked dumbly, then awkwardly opened his mouth.
“Is it because of the marching speed?”
“Phew…”
Han So-young covered her face and let out a long sigh. Her heavy breath seemed meant to be heard, and Kim Su-hyun shifted uncomfortably, sensing her mood.
“I want to hit you…”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear. You idiot.”
“Y-yes?”
“No, never mind.”
“……”
In the end, Han So-young gave up. But Kim Su-hyun didn’t feel victorious; instead, he scratched his cheek awkwardly. The two fell into a silence as if by mutual agreement.
As the campfire crackled, time slipped by endlessly. The quiet gradually softened Han So-young’s anger and calmed Kim Su-hyun. Once the mood settled, she spoke quietly.
“Now that I think about it, I’ve been wondering since we left.”
“…?”
“Why are you so anxious?”
“Anxious…?”
Kim Su-hyun tilted his head. It was a different question from “Why is the marching speed so fast?” And honestly, he’d never thought of himself as anxious.
“Well, if anything, I’d say I’m tense, but anxious…”
“Tension and anxiety are just a hair apart.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Tension means you’re on edge, alert and focused. Anxiety means you’re uncertain and uneasy.”
Han So-young looked him straight in the eyes and continued.
“To me, Mercenary Road doesn’t seem tense. He looks anxious.”
Whether tension or anxiety, it’s all a matter of interpretation. But Kim Su-hyun didn’t dismiss her words. He knew she wasn’t guessing—she spoke from her heightened senses.
“The current situation seems complicated, but if you look at the facts, it’s simple. The Southern Continent rebelled against the angels. The Eastern Continent is in crisis. The Northern Continent will save them. …So I wondered.”
For Han So-young, this was unusually long-winded.
“In this straightforward scenario, why would Mercenary Road be anxious? Is there something I don’t know?”
Kim Su-hyun’s expression grew calm, his eyes closed gently as if lost in thought.
Looking back, it was natural for Han So-young to question. Though the angels had personally intervened to persuade, there were likely truths left unspoken. Inevitably, gaps would appear.
No matter how plausible the explanation, could one of the Northern Continent’s users not notice?
Han So-young rested her chin lightly on her knees, as if she’d said all she needed to. She waited quietly, sensing him wrestling with his thoughts. In truth, Kim Su-hyun was thinking: maybe it was time to speak up.
After a moment, he smiled faintly and opened his eyes.
“Maybe there is something.”
Han So-young narrowed her eyes slightly. He acknowledged her suspicion—and it was the truth.
But then—
“But it’s not really the time to tell you everything.”
Kim Su-hyun shook his head.
“Yes, not yet…”
His voice trailed off hesitantly. Slowly, he tilted his chin upward. His half-closed eyes stared emptily into the pitch-black night sky. For some reason, the sight was unbearably lonely and sad, tinged with an unexplainable unease.
“Maybe after this war ends, then.”
At that moment—
“If you want to hear it now?”
For the first time since becoming his user, Han So-young spoke without thinking. In that instant, Kim Su-hyun’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Hmm… Is there a particular reason you need to hear it now?”
Han So-young fell silent—not because she had nothing to say, but because a sudden unease was creeping over her.
Just moments ago, she’d seen his weary face, his utterly hollow eyes. It was proof not of physical exhaustion, but of a spirit worn to its breaking point.
What Han So-young truly wanted to know was one thing: what was it that stubbornly kept Kim Su-hyun going, even as he seemed so tattered and torn, on the verge of collapse?
If she had to put it into words, Kim Su-hyun looked like a candle. His flame burned fiercer than ever, shining so brightly it dazzled anyone who looked.
But instead of filling her with warmth, it made her heart ache and her chest tighten.
This was a feeling Han So-young couldn’t quite define. It was a gut instinct, baseless and inexplicable. Just as she’d said earlier, an unfounded anxiety.
If only she could understand that—
Maybe then she could ease some of his burden.
Yes, that was it…
“If not, it’s okay to wait until next time, right? Haha.”
Kim Su-hyun laughed lightly, and Han So-young looked at him with a touch of frustration.
Because—
“……”
That fragile flicker, she feared, might vanish forever at any moment. Like a candle about to go out, flaring one last time.
The night stretched on, endlessly flowing.
---------------------------= Author’s Note =---------------------------
Yes, it’s true—I am planting the seeds for the ending here. Or rather, setting up the flags.
But please, don’t call me Urobuchi Gen! I looked him up and got a little scared. I’d rather be compared to Night Run, maybe. (?)
I do have a question for readers: do I really kill off characters you like that often? ㅜ.ㅠ
Anyway, no matter what, I’m not going to kill indiscriminately. Go Yeon-ju is a character I care about deeply. You can rest assured she won’t die. :)