Around that time, in the summoning chamber…
“W-what do you mean by that?”
Kim Yuhyun found himself stammering without realizing it. When he shot a glare full of distrust at the altar ahead, the figure receiving his gaze quietly closed their eyes, wearing an expression that seemed to say, “I have nothing to say, even if I had ten mouths.” Embarrassed, to say the least.
“What do you mean by that?!”
For once, Kim Yuhyun shouted. It was more like a scream, almost a wail.
“It’s not even a difficult request! You’re just being asked to move one person! Is that really so hard?”
Once he started yelling, it was like a dam breaking—unstoppable.
“What? You’re saying it can’t be done even with a wish? Not even with the Zero Code?”
He was so worked up that his right arm, extended toward the altar, began trembling visibly. Clutched tightly in his fist was a glowing blue orb, seeming as if it might crumble at any moment.
“Hah! Fine. So now that you have the Zero Code, you don’t care what happens to Suhyun anymore?”
Having said that much, Kim Yuhyun took a rough breath and glared at the angel on the altar as if willing to kill.
Perhaps unable to endure the man’s fierce gaze any longer—or maybe unwilling to let that remark slide—the Seraph slowly opened their eyes and met his gaze, filled with sorrow. Then, calmly, they spoke.
“As I said before… the wish to transfer user Kim Suhyun here cannot be granted.”
“So even with the Zero Code…!”
“The Zero Code can fulfill user Kim Yuhyun’s requests. I never said it was impossible. It’s just… currently, it’s difficult.”
“Difficult, my ass!”
At that moment, with a thud, the Seraph’s head snapped to the side. Kim Yuhyun had thrown the Zero Code he was holding with all his might at the altar, mixing in harsh curses he rarely used. It was clear he was extremely angry.
Under normal circumstances, such behavior was unthinkable, but the Seraph showed no reaction. They carefully rolled the Zero Code back and, with a mournful expression, looked at him again.
Despite Kim Yuhyun’s extreme outburst, his fierce energy was undeniable.
But the Seraph wasn’t angry. In fact, they fully understood Kim Yuhyun’s request. Beyond mere blood ties, he had been running headlong toward a single hope, only to hit an unexpected wall. How despairing that must be.
He wasn’t refusing to understand; he simply couldn’t accept reality.
In fact, this was a point the Seraph had repeatedly warned Kim Suhyun about.
“The Zero Code is an all-powerful artifact that grants the user’s every wish.”
“However, gods like Hwajeong or Thanatos can resist some commands of the Zero Code if they so choose.”
“Even if a command is carried out, the time it takes for the result to manifest varies.”
“Just summoning Thanatos creates countless variables for the demon. User Kim Suhyun must always be cautious and vigilant about this.”
In other words, the Zero Code’s commands can apply to both humans and gods, but they are not equal in effect. Especially with high-ranking gods like Hwajeong or Thanatos.
It is possible to bring Kim Suhyun here with the Zero Code.
But the demon knows this too.
In fact, Kim Suhyun had already forcibly accepted a fragment of Thanatos. So whether time is reversed or Kim Suhyun is summoned, if the Zero Code’s command begins to execute, Thanatos will immediately notice—and then Kim Suhyun’s life cannot be guaranteed.
That’s why the Seraph opposed using the Zero Code. Even if it takes less than a minute to break through resistance, who can say what might happen in that time?
“What kind of all-powerful force is this… if it can’t even do something this simple…”
At that moment, Kim Yuhyun’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees.
“If only… I had arrived sooner…”
His voice was full of self-reproach, but in truth, even if he had arrived earlier, the outcome would have been the same.
No, even if the demon had some ulterior motive, if they hadn’t saved Kim Suhyun, resurrection would have been impossible.
As long as he was alive, there was still a chance.
That’s what the Seraph thought, but they didn’t speak carelessly, knowing it would be like pouring fuel on a fire.
In the end, they quietly bowed their head, watching the man mutter endlessly as if possessed.
How much time had passed?
Being trapped in a dark space, limbs tightly bound, the sense of time had almost faded.
Sometimes, someone would come and go, but that was all. We were completely isolated from the outside world. In this situation, all I could do was think.
After Thanatos left, despite the chaos, I kept organizing my thoughts over and over. Han Soyoung seemed to understand my state and didn’t try to force conversation.
Two things I heard kept nagging at me. One: I was saved at the demon’s request. Two: if everything went well, they would let me go safely.
At first, I didn’t understand why they saved me, but connecting those two statements suddenly made things clear.
It wasn’t complicated.
Thanatos’s words implied the demon hadn’t given up yet. Their goal was focused entirely on obtaining the Zero Code, and from the demon’s perspective, we were nothing more than annoying obstacles.
In other words, the answer was simple. Satan saved me to use me as a hostage. They would try to negotiate with my brother, who holds the Zero Code, using my survival and safe return as leverage. It was essentially a trade.
Moreover, from what Han Soyoung said, we weren’t the only prisoners. If any other prisoner revealed my relationship with my brother, Satan would likely see it as an opportunity.
It was truly ironic. After piecing this together, I felt conflicting emotions—wanting to be rescued, yet wishing they hadn’t come at all.
But if I were in my brother’s shoes, I probably wouldn’t agree.
No matter how sweetly they tempted him, the essence remained. Trusting demons and joining hands with them? Even a passing dog would laugh. That’s why he flatly refused the idea of teaming up to wipe out angels.
Anyway, the decision wasn’t mine but my brother’s. I didn’t doubt his abilities, but…
Honestly, even I couldn’t predict how he’d respond. I just hoped someone would act as a proper brake.
I didn’t know.
Everything just felt like a mess.
“Huuuu…”
A heavy sigh escaped me, as if my chest was suffocating.
‘Hwajeong.’
I tried calling out, just in case, but as expected, no response.
Since regaining consciousness, Hwajeong hadn’t spoken a word. I called countless times, but never once did I hear back.
I worried that maybe Hwajeong had disappeared, but that didn’t seem to be the case. I could still feel the warm, familiar presence in my heart.
Maybe the shock of releasing the seal was too great, or perhaps Thanatos, having regained strength, was playing tricks. Or maybe, just maybe, Hwajeong was angry after reading my thoughts last time. Though that seemed unlikely.
…Anyway, what should I do now?
“…?”
Just then.
While lost in thought, I suddenly felt a familiar gaze.
“A way… a way…”
Kim Yuhyun sank into his chair, muttering to himself repeatedly. His left hand gripped the Zero Code tightly, while his right hand trembled as it kept tapping the desk.
It was inevitable. The last resort—the only thing he thought could work—“Summon user Kim Suhyun to Atlanta with the Zero Code’s command”—had failed. Bringing Kim Suhyun back safely was now practically impossible.
That left only one option.
Fight the war again and retrieve him directly.
Of course, it was easier said than done. The problem was how to make that happen. No matter how much he thought, no clever solution came to mind. Kim Yuhyun didn’t even know how many allies were still alive.
“Damn it…”
Countless scenarios rose and sank back into his mind.
The demon was a problem, Thanatos was a problem. Especially Satan—he was so relentlessly persistent it was infuriating. Most would have given up by now, but he had an uncanny ability to find a way out in any situation. At this point, Kim Yuhyun even felt a grudging respect for the users who had defeated demons in the first round.
“Hoo… hoo…”
While his mind raced without pause, Kim Yuhyun instinctively took deep breaths to calm himself. Otherwise, his chest felt like it would burst.
Then.
“…Huh?”
Suddenly, a flicker of blue light illuminated Kim Yuhyun’s face intermittently. The communication orb resting on the desk blinked.
Staring blankly, Kim Yuhyun snapped to attention and quickly infused it with magic. The orb projected a small image, revealing someone’s face.
“The Shadow Queen?”
“Yes, brother-in-law.”
Kim Yuhyun recognized her immediately and spoke, while Ko Yeonju nodded slightly. Yet her expression was clearly flustered, and Kim Yuhyun sensed something urgent had happened.
“I’m sorry, but there’s something that needs your attention.”
“No, no, it’s nothing to apologize for. I’ll be there right away. Where are you?”
Having already left the aftermath to others, Kim Yuhyun felt guilty and hurriedly stood up.
But—
(No.)
Go Yeon-ju slowly shook her head.
(You really don’t need to come. I just sent someone over there.)
“Huh? You sent someone?”
Kim Yoo-hyun, who was putting on her robe, paused and asked in surprise. Then Go Yeon-ju suddenly raised an eyebrow with a sly smile.
(A messenger came from the demon side.)
At that,
“…A messenger?”
Kim Yoo-hyun’s eyes widened in shock.
Meanwhile, at the same time—
At the Mercenary Castle, Im Han-na was sighing deeply as she climbed the stairs. She had finally returned to the castle she had dreamed of, yet her expression was far from bright. Well, who could be smiling in a situation like this?
Eventually, entering the hallway, Im Han-na quietly opened the door and peeked inside. She carefully walked over and sat down on the chair beside the bed, her gaze fixed on Ahn Sol lying there like she was dead. Her eyes were tightly shut, but she was breathing weakly, as if struggling, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
Of course, the treatment was done, and there were no visible injuries.
But that only made her more worried.
She had poured every healing spell she had, even used two bottles of elixir. At this point, there should have been some sign of improvement, but Ahn Sol still hadn’t regained consciousness. And just moments ago, she had heard from Shin Jae-ryong during the shift change that there was no difference from before.
‘Maybe the damage is to her brain or soul…’
“I-what am I thinking?”
Startled, Im Han-na slapped her temple and shook her head. Then she grabbed a clean cloth and gently wiped the sweat from Ahn Sol’s forehead.
“Phew… Sol, I’m sorry, okay? I ended up thinking strange things all by myself… How silly of me.”
Even though she knew Ahn Sol couldn’t hear her, Im Han-na smiled sadly and spoke softly.
“But still, our Sol… you’ll shake this off and get back on your feet soon, right? Right? Hmm?”
With a face full of worry and affection, she leaned in closer.
Then, at that moment—
Flash!
“Mommaaa!”
In an instant, Im Han-na threw her arms wide and let out a scream as she fell hard on her backside.
“W-what?”
Despite her shock, her wide eyes stared blankly at the bed.
Just moments ago, Ahn Sol’s eyes had been tightly shut, but suddenly, they snapped open with a terrifying intensity. Im Han-na had leaned in, about to kiss her forehead, when Ahn Sol’s eyes opened right in front of her. How could she not be startled?
But that wasn’t what mattered now.
A moment later—
“So, Sol…?”
Ahn Sol slowly—
“…….”
Yet, with an unsettling energy, she lifted her upper body.
---------------------------= Author’s Note =---------------------------
Beeeaaaaaam!