< Reminiscence >
The wind blew.
Not just a gentle breeze, but a strong gust fierce enough to make the blue skirt—woven from threads of metal—flutter wildly.
Eldora brushed the strands of hair tickling her eyes behind her ear and stared blankly ahead. Her eyes, filled with darkness, had lost their former luster, yet no longer appeared lifeless. Instead, they resembled an endless black hole, evoking an inexplicable chill in anyone who looked into them.
“This place is…”
“It’s the space guarding the heart of the Central Continent,” Erwin said softly, stepping quietly behind Eldora. He continued, “And that invisible barrier over there is called the ‘Law Domain.’”
“Law Domain?”
Eldora asked without much surprise.
“Yes. It’s short for a domain protected by a divine decree—a law declared by a god.”
“And what god is that? What does the decree say?”
Though curious, Erwin shook his head. He didn’t know.
Eldora turned her gaze forward again and walked calmly to the edge, peering inside. Erwin watched her silently for a long while, but as time passed, a strange sense of disappointment grew clearer in his eyes.
“You’re not seriously hoping for something, are you?”
At that moment, someone approached Erwin’s side and spoke with innocent mischief. Thanatos strode over, clicking his tongue as he looked at Eldora standing quietly in the distance.
“If that’s the case, you’d better wake up from that dream. That girl probably lost her qualifications the moment she woke up—not because she accepted my fragment, but because she’s hardly human anymore.”
“I’m well aware of that much.”
Erwin sighed lightly and nodded.
“And even if Eldora is the queen… unfortunately, the real queen is nowhere to be seen. I was just hoping, maybe.”
Thanatos smiled sweetly, but Erwin’s expression grew awkward. They had once shared a body, and seeing Thanatos speak so gently made him feel oddly uncomfortable. Still, he shrugged, thinking they had to be mindful of the others watching.
“So, what now?”
“Hm?”
“It’s good that you’ve gathered your strength and arrived first… but let me warn you—at my current state, there’s no way you can beat Kim Soo-hyun. Honestly, even if you hold out well, it’ll only be for a few dozen minutes.”
“…”
Erwin fell silent. Thanatos wasn’t exaggerating. It was hard to imagine the god of death whining. His words meant that Kim Soo-hyun was such a formidable opponent that Thanatos himself had to swallow his pride to admit it.
“Why not try attacking at least once? It’ll be tough for you, but those humans over there—maybe you can at least provoke them?”
Thanatos glanced around with a sly grin. The surroundings were quiet, but the countless presences lurking made it feel oddly noisy.
“Not a bad idea.”
Erwin’s tone lacked any seriousness, but he didn’t dismiss it outright.
“Still, I think it’s better to place our hopes on something that can stand against that divine decree rather than mere humans…”
When Erwin gave him a subtle look, Thanatos chuckled.
“No way. Even I can’t break through a law domain that strong in such a short time.”
“Really?”
“Zero Code was born from the Ten Thousand. And you want me to force my way into a domain maintained by that power? Don’t be ridiculous. Maybe if my strength and authority return, but until then, it’s impossible.”
“What if you were fully restored?”
Erwin smiled faintly and asked again. Thanatos paused, then licked his lips quietly.
“Well… I still can’t guarantee anything about Zero Code. Honestly, I’ve never seen it myself, so it’s all just speculation. Maybe some resistance is possible, but in the end, it might not hold.”
“I see. Then there’s no choice. We’ll proceed as originally planned.”
With that, Erwin turned away without hesitation.
“Wait.”
But before he could take more than a few steps,
“I haven’t heard your answer yet.”
Thanatos’s voice stopped him.
“Don’t tell me you still believe in that grand prophecy?”
“…”
“Or are you just hiding, waiting for your opponent to weaken?”
“…”
With his back turned, Erwin couldn’t see Thanatos’s expression.
“If you’re really entertaining such pathetic thoughts…”
But then—
“You’d better be prepared. Because I’ll destroy you all before Kim Soo-hyun even gets the chance.”
The voice behind him was low and heavy—no longer playful, but deadly serious.
Sensing Thanatos’s true intent, Erwin leisurely turned around.
“Don’t worry. It won’t go the way you think.”
Surprised, Thanatos’s eyes widened.
With a crescent-shaped smile, Erwin added,
“It’ll be interesting. I promise.”
“Oh?”
The moment we arrived at the place the man had reported, my brother let out a soft exclamation. He’d said it was just a spot with a monument and an altar, but the scale was far larger than expected.
Indeed, the square space made of ash-gray stone was over two hundred meters across, and the massive pillars at each corner were truly impressive. I was quite surprised the first time I saw it, too.
My brother kept marveling aloud, but honestly, I felt little excitement. As I walked slowly forward, the gathered users naturally parted to let us through. I had to drag my brother along, who kept trying to go somewhere else.
We finally stepped into a slightly wider area, and straight ahead stood the monument he’d mentioned. Time had not been kind to it; the stone bore clear scars of countless storms. Sunyul clung closely to the monument, studying it intently, but her furrowed brow showed she was struggling to interpret it.
Alright. Let’s start by deciphering this monument. Here, no one else is better than me…
…Huh? That’s strange. Why can’t I remember all of a sudden?
“Someone go get her.”
“Hm? Who?”
“You know, her.”
“Who? You have to say it for me to know.”
“Who was it again? That dumb, silly girl.”
“Ha! There’s more than one dumb girl around here.”
“Oh right, the one who summons beasts. What was her name?”
“…What?”
A slightly annoyed voice came from nearby. I glanced over and saw Vivian staring at me wide-eyed. She blinked a few times, her jaw trembling, breath growing ragged.
“You… you just called me… I mean, you even said my name…”
It took quite a while to calm Vivian down as she fumed and stomped. Sensing this was the moment, I declared, “If you don’t hurry and decipher that monument, I won’t pay any attention to your backside from now on.” She pouted but reluctantly walked off.
A little while later—
“Oh, here she comes.”
“Who is that?”
“She’s a resident. From that mercenary clan…”
“Oh, right.”
The noisy crowd quieted as all eyes eagerly turned toward Vivian approaching the monument. It was well known that residents were far better at interpreting gore-related texts than users.
“Uh, um?”
Vivian, who had been grumbling nonstop, looked flustered by the sudden attention. But she soon straightened her neck and back, stiffening as she stared at the monument with exaggerated seriousness.
“Ahem, ahem… This is a very ancient script.”
“…”
“Let’s see… ‘To those who seek the promise of the gods?’”
“Speak up! So everyone can hear.”
Vivian scowled, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.
“Geez, you sure ask for a lot!”
“What?”
“Alright! What’s this word? ‘Ten Thousand’? ‘By the name of the Ten Thousand, I command you!’”
“…”
With that, Vivian suddenly spread her arms wide.
“Return!”
…What’s with that performance? And why do I have to be the one embarrassed?
“Surely, there may be something here you’ve longed for and sought, but the promise of the gods does not await you!”
Murmurs and whispers rippled through the crowd.
Hmm. Vivian’s behavior is questionable, but the crowd’s reaction is just as problematic.
“Only those qualified may receive the blessing of the promise.”
“The infinite power awaits the four and the one.”
“Therefore, seek them!”
“What is this? Suddenly feels like we’re at a fanatical cult gathering.”
That last voice wasn’t Vivian’s—it was Ko Yeon-ju’s. I didn’t notice when she arrived, but I shrugged and quickly covered my mouth to stifle a yawn. I just wanted this to be over soon.
“Those who dwell in shadows!”
“Those who sing of blades!”
“Those who transcend steel and blood!”
“Those born from holy and noble blessings—Zuaaah!”
Whoever erected this monument must be rolling in their grave right now. Surely, they didn’t intend for it to be read so theatrically.
“And the one king who unites these four existences!”
“The day these five step foot here, the path to that place will naturally open!”
Vivian said that, then threw her head back completely and let out a wild, cackling laugh—like a witch about to summon a demon—marking her final act. It was over. Of course, nothing happened afterward.
“Is that it? What does that even mean?”
“So, what are we supposed to do now?”
Voices pressed from all sides, demanding results, but what could Vivian do? After hesitating for a long time, instead of just saying she didn’t know, she suddenly blurted out a ridiculous excuse—“Ah! Bathroom! My stomach hurts!”—and dashed away. The noise started up again.
I sighed and scratched my head. Part of me wanted to shout, “Stop wasting time!” but there were too many eyes watching. No matter how I thought about it, I couldn’t come up with a good reason to say, “There’s nothing to find by digging around this altar, so let’s just break the spell already!”
Yeah. Maybe it was better to spend a day showing we were thoroughly investigating. My brother was already examining the pillar, and I had to consider Han So-young’s extrasensory perception, too. One wrong move and we’d be under suspicion.
With that in mind, I took a step toward the stone monument.
And then, at that moment—
---------------------------= Author’s Note =---------------------------
Lately, there’s been a sharp ache in my chest.
Why is it that readers mock and ridicule
a man like Ro Yoo-jin—
rough and fierce as a wild bear—
by calling him a woman?
It’s truly heartbreaking.
The second episode has now reached its halfway point,
and the conclusion of Memorize is drawing near,
yet readers still misunderstand the author’s gender, which is a huge problem.
The only way to make up for past mistakes
is for readers to recognize the author’s true gender as soon as possible
and apologize for all the mockery.
If you think the author will someday admit to being female
just because you keep attaching ridiculous nicknames,
that’s a massive misconception.
If this continues,
soon the story will be flooded with BL and queer content.
If, after reading this declaration,
any reader still thinks Ro Yoo-jin is “Ro Yoo(jin)mi,”
and doesn’t understand why an apology is necessary despite no wrongdoing,
then consider how unfair it must have been for the author
to have surrendered humiliatingly during the first and second wars,
and how that injustice drove them to fight the third war themselves.
Readers should carefully reflect on whether their current comments are fair,
quickly change their minds,
strengthen their bond with the author,
and return to the warm, friendly atmosphere of earlier comments.
Always respecting the readers,
Ro Yoo-‘jin’…
『July 14, 2015, Declaration of the Anti-Ro Yoo(mi) Alliance』