Her Name Is Lydia
Her name was Lydia.
"So."
I looked at the dagger in her hand. A crack ran down the blade.
Shadow. Stitch.
The characters that had pinned my shadow to the ground.
"What's your name?"
The woman in the white robe didn't answer right away. Her grip tightened on the dagger. Wariness. Hesitation. And irritation. All three were written across her face.
"Your name."
I said it again.
"I can't exactly keep calling you Dagger Girl."
"Don't call me that."
"Then tell me your name."
She bit her lip for a moment.
"…Lydia."
"Lydia?"
"Yeah."
"Last name?"
"Don't have one."
"Don't have one, or won't say?"
"I discarded it."
Ah. So it was that kind of story. I didn't press further. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be ordinary.
I stared at her. Lydia reacted immediately.
"What are you looking at."
"Just checking."
"Checking what."
I scrawled the characters in the air.
Affiliation: Holy Light Cult — Tracking Division
Holy Light Cult? All light on the surface, stitching shadows for a living. Real shameless naming sense.
Her mana was far lower than Ipda's. But every physical stat was several times mine. If Ipda was a glass goblet, Lydia was a hammer shaped like a person.
My eyes snagged for a second on that last number.
…Let's pretend I didn't see that.
"Mr. Seok-beom."
Ipda's voice came from behind me. I turned. She was leaning against a tree, her face still pale — but her gaze was fixed on Lydia. Had I been staring too long?
"Do you really need to examine her for that long?"
"Pardon?"
"No. It's nothing."
The tips of her ears were just a little red. I looked back and forth between Lydia and Ipda. Lydia hadn't noticed a thing.
"What. What about it."
I rubbed my cheek. The blood seal stamped there earlier was still burning hot.
A tracking brand burned into the flesh. Even if broken, another pursuer will come.
Even if I broke this thing, another tracker would just take its place. Run. Run. Run some more. I was sick of it.
I looked at Lydia.
"Fine. I'm done with a life of being chased."
I hadn't been in this world long. But it had been more than enough. Short, intense, and thoroughly exhausting.
"Lydia."
"What."
"Take me to the Cult."
Her eyes wavered.
"Are you insane?"
"No."
I pointed at my cheek.
"They're going to find me anyway."
"That's…"
"So I'll go to them."
Ipda grabbed my arm. Her fingertips were cold.
"It's dangerous."
"It's a place I was going to end up eventually, whether I got dragged there or not."
"But the Cult is…"
"Whatever's buried in your body came from there too, didn't it."
Ipda closed her mouth. That silence was answer enough.
I turned back to Lydia.
"You know the way. And the princess needs that curse lifted."
Ipda looked at me. Her eyes were different this time — something between glad and uneasy.
"The Church Tower?"
Lydia pointed past the forest.
"Beyond that big mountain. I'd get there in ten minutes. Walking around the mountain would take you three hours."
Hmm. Walking sounded like a pain. I thought back to the numbers on her status window. Strength 24. Agility 32. Endurance 28.
Me? A guy who'd been rolling around the Academy Duel Ground, sprinting through the forest, and had just gotten unpinned from a shadow-stitching. Ipda: chronically ill princess, curse embedded, can walk but might collapse at any moment.
The answer was obvious.
"Lydia."
"What."
"Can you take both of us?"
"Sure."
"No, I mean — can you carry us."
Lydia looked between me and Ipda. Brief.
"Sure."
"Really?"
"The princess is light."
Her gaze landed on me.
"And you don't look that heavy either. Though my back isn't that wide, so I'll have to hold you in front."
That oddly stung.
Ipda gave a small cough.
"Mr. Seok-beom."
"Yes?"
"I don't mind being carried, but…" She chose her words with extreme care. "Is it really necessary for you to be held as well?"
Her tone was soft. But there was a strange edge to it. I caught on immediately. She didn't like it. The idea of Lydia running with me in her arms.
Ipda looked away.
"No. I was only thinking of efficiency."
Efficiency. Coming from a princess's mouth, it was an adorably transparent excuse.
Lydia noticed nothing.
"You're both slow."
"…"
"Me carrying you is faster."
"…I see."
Ipda's smile stiffened just a fraction. It was cold.
Lydia turned her back to Ipda and crouched.
"Get on."
Ipda hesitated a moment, then carefully climbed onto Lydia's back. She looked far too light — and that, more than anything, bothered me.
Lydia secured Ipda firmly, then turned toward me. She planted one knee on the ground.
"Sit."
"Where?"
"Here."
She pointed at her own thigh. I looked at her. Lydia was serious. Extremely serious.
"In that position?"
"Otherwise you'll fall."
From behind, Ipda said quietly:
"Mr. Seok-beom."
"Yes."
"You said efficiency was important, didn't you."
Her voice was lovely. Lovely enough to be terrifying. I swallowed hard.
"I did."
"Then you should get on."
"…Yes."
Ipda's smile was gentle. I carefully sat on the thigh Lydia had raised. And the next moment, she pulled me into her arms.
"Wait. Is this the right position?"
"It's the fastest."
Her arms locked around my back. Stronger than expected. Strength 24 — so this was what that felt like. I didn't feel held so much as clamped in a press. From behind, Ipda's gaze bored into me like a heated pin.
"Going."
Lydia kicked off the ground.
Boom.
The instant her body launched, the cut on my palm throbbed. The scenery shoved itself backward.
"Aaaagh!"
My body was airborne. No — genuinely airborne. Lydia wasn't running on the ground. She was stepping on trees. Kicking off trunks. Landing on branches, then springing to the next.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
Wind slapped my face. The forest streamed past below. The ground was far. Too far. I instinctively clutched her robe.
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Too high!"
"Hold still."
"This is terrifying!"
"You fall, you die."
"I'm scared — what am I supposed to do about that!"
The next instant she kicked off a thick branch and shot sideways. Whoosh! My vision tilted. My stomach tilted with it. Lydia moved between branches like she was flying. Moonlight fractured. Leaves brushed my face. Somewhere, birds startled into the air. I squeezed my eyes shut, then forced them open again. Closing them was worse.
"You always travel like this?"
"Yeah."
"All the Cult trackers do this?"
"No."
"Just you, then?"
"Yeah. Just me."
She looked a little proud. Short answers, but somehow that came through. I had no choice but to admit it. She was fast. Impossibly fast. Faster than a horse. No — better than a horse.
The air of the forest changed. The cold smell of earth gave way to a faint perfume — flowers, candle smoke, and the warm scent of food. Lydia slowed. She landed on a branch, then made one last great leap.
Whoosh!
The view opened. The forest ended. From inside Lydia's arms, I lifted my head — and saw it.
A white tower. Tall. Clean. Brighter than the moonlight. Clustered at its base were small buildings that looked like a relief center. There were children. There were old people. Priests ladling soup to the injured. Someone was laughing. Someone was praying. Someone was crying.
It wasn't what I'd imagined. No black altars. No bloodstained walls. No sinister smiles. On the surface — truly, on the surface — it looked like a good place.
Lydia stopped high in the branches. Ipda, still on her back, looked down.
"Is that… the Church Tower?"
Lydia nodded.
"The Holy Light Cult."
The Cult of Sacred Light. Living up to its name. Living up to it so thoroughly it made me more uncomfortable.
I narrowed my eyes. This time I didn't hold back. Characters rose above the tower.
Church Tower
Labyrinth
"Going down."
Lydia said.
"Wait, let me prepare myself mentally—"
Whoosh.
Too late again. We dropped through the trees. Lydia killed her speed by tapping the trunk three times, and when her feet touched the ground there was almost no sound at all. Only then did I let out my breath. Alive.
Lydia set me down. My legs wobbled for a second. Ipda slid off Lydia's back and stood beside me as if nothing had happened.
"Mr. Seok-beom."
"Yes."
"Did you enjoy that?"
"Pardon?"
Why is the princess like this…
Then a man approached. White priest's robes. Gentle eyes. A slow walk. From a distance he raised both hands, as if to show he carried no weapon. Lydia quietly dropped to one knee. The man bowed his head deeply.
"I am truly sorry."
His voice was warm.
"We had no intention of harming you."
I said nothing. The priest lifted his head and looked at us in turn — Lydia, Ipda, then me.
"It is true that we assigned a tracker. But there was no kill order."
"She was stitching my shadow."
I said. The priest bowed again.
"A measure to prevent escape. It was discourteous of us."
His words were far too polite. Polite enough to be strange.
Lydia spoke low.
"I brought them."
The priest fixed her with a look.
"Lydia."
Her shoulders went rigid.
"We'll talk later."
I glanced at the priest's waist. A small silver bell hung there — smaller than a palm. Fine characters were engraved on its surface. To ordinary eyes, decorative patterns. Not to mine.
A holy artifact of the Cult
I could tell it was a sacred relic — but the characters themselves refused to fully resolve.
The priest smiled gently.
"You've come a long way."
The bell swayed slightly. Ting. A clear, pure note. For a moment, something in my chest eased. Maybe it would be fine. Maybe we could talk this through. Maybe this man wasn't an enemy.
The priest looked at me.
"Mr. Han Seok-beom."
I smiled.
"How do you know my name?"
The priest made an apologetic face.
"We received a report at the Cult, of course."
In that moment, a bell tolled from the top of the distant white tower.
Dong—
The priest spoke with the same kindly expression.
"Welcome."
Dong—
A second toll. The doors of the white tower slowly opened. And from within, dozens of people — as if they had been waiting — looked straight at us.