The Shattered Eternal Dawn
The polished floor echoed beneath the crisp strike of leather soles.
Steady footsteps rang low through the corridor. The walls lining the passage shimmered faintly with reflected light, while motes of dust drifted lazily through the air, each one catching a glint of radiance.
Wherever the man passed, his shadow stretched long across the walls.
At times, figures standing behind glass panels bowed their heads one by one. Heavy silhouettes sank downward, and a silent reverence followed him deeper into the facility.
“Elder.”
At the quiet voice of the woman who had drawn alongside him, the man slowly spoke.
“What is the situation?”
“We are maintaining balance as best we can. However, stable suppression remains difficult. The containment structure continues to resonate with the fragments in irregular cycles…”
“In other words, we are barely holding the status quo.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
The woman nodded. Mateus did not slow his stride.
Before him, a door sealed by a formidable barrier came into view. Thin golden lines traced across the floor and walls, knotting around the entrance like a living sigil. Beyond it, a low, resonant pulse thrummed steadily.
Mateus extended his hand.
The barrier’s light trembled faintly at his approach, then the knot loosened. Mana flowed backward, settling like a receding tide and scattering into silence.
With a soft creak, the door opened of its own accord, exhaling a breath of frigid air.
No violent wind. No crushing impact. Only a biting chill.
Mateus stepped through without hesitation.
The cold brushed against his coat, and an intangible current warped the shadow at his feet.
At the heart of the strange chamber, fragments of light drifted through the air. They pulsed dimly, like shards of broken glass—lingering echoes of a lost glory, still wandering the world.
Yet the name remained.
Eternal Dawn.
It was a discovery bordering on the miraculous. After seven hundred years, the long-cherished wish of Nibraks had finally borne fruit.
But Mateus’s gaze upon it was dark and heavy.
Who would not feel the same? After a lifetime of pursuit, what lay before him was not perfect victory, but shattered remnants.
The Eternal Dawn was broken. Its torn form had carved an artificial rift in space, successfully imprisoning both its master and its nemesis for eternity.
Mateus could only bite his lower lip at the arrangement left by the head of the family in that final hour.
He knew the truth. The man had been a great hero who stood against the last black dragon. After a desperate battle, he had frozen both the beast and his own time forever.
He had fought for the family. He had sacrificed for the family. Mateus had no desire to dishonor such a hero. Yet…
The void he left behind had gnawed at Marjie from within for seven hundred years.
Once unified, the Marjie family had fractured through endless division and conflict, turning their backs on one another. His decision had been salvation; his absence had become chaos.
Unbridgeable convictions. Lost glory. That brilliant era—!
“……”
Mateus slowly raised his head.
Honoring the hero was the family’s destiny, but escaping his shadow was also a burden they must accept. At least, that was what Nibraks—and Mateus—believed. It had been their conviction for seven hundred years.
“Zik… or rather, the family head?”
“He remains in seclusion.”
“…So he still cannot let go of his attachment.”
Mateus’s eyes narrowed at the woman’s reply.
Zik Marjie.
If Zahad had Lokan and Anarion had Ryukard, then Marjie once had Zik. He too had possessed heaven-sent talent, shouldering the family’s burden as though it were the most natural thing in the world. His eternally youthful appearance proved the height he had reached.
Yet that youth was not the result of stopped time. It was combustion—a life burning itself away by pushing past every limit. Beneath that preserved youth, his ice mana circuits must already be irreversibly frozen.
‘Would it really be so bad if I just changed everything?’
He remembered the bright, smiling face. The days when they had spoken freely with one another. Days that could never return.
As the voice of his old friend brushed past his ears, Mateus slowly twisted his lips.
“No. Even you cannot do it.”
“……”
“You may leave.”
At the elder’s words, the woman bowed her head. The door clicked shut behind her.
Mateus took one step closer to the fragment. His eyes, fixed upon the faint glow, were as dark as the future he foresaw for Marjie.
Whoever restored the Eternal Dawn would be granted the position of next family head. What a blasphemous, desperate wish it was. That desperation had driven them to reach out even to an outsider, bending their once-unyielding pride. It was something that should never have happened—and must never happen again.
In the next moment, his outstretched fingers brushed through the drifting shards one by one. Following his gesture, the fragmented forms seeped into his body.
“……!”
Mateus’s eyes flew wide open.
He had performed this act countless times, yet the horrific pain that clawed through his mind remained unbearable. Still, he gritted his teeth.
Within the frozen expanse of his mental world—reminiscent of the Antarctic ice fields—the absorbed fragments slowly merged into the already-formed crystal.
Mateus clenched his jaw.
If the power was shattered, then he would reforge it within himself. For the sake of a united Marjie, he would gladly walk the path of martyrdom.
His mental world trembled.
Centuries of lingering obsession bared its fangs.
In that instant, Mateus did not notice the ominous roar hidden within the swirling vortex of power.
“Namgung… no, Jin-hyung, how did you know that?”
Broph blinked in surprise. It was not because Jin’s guess about the missing incantation lines being around four had been correct.
How would Broph know how many lines of the lost incantation had vanished? He had only thought, They’re gone. Damn it, what the hell— his head still ringing.
“How would I know?”
Jin answered casually, yet something felt off. Could it be… that Jin actually had some idea? Broph looked at him with fresh curiosity.
Come to think of it, that idiot was a genius among geniuses. He had joined the rotation like someone out for a stroll, knocked out the Brain King in the main round, received an unprecedented cooperation request from the city government’s special forces, reached Solo Level 5 at record speed, and now even had the Marjie family head and his wife favoring him…
And that was not all. He had even earned the approval of Broph Ruger himself. At this point, it was undeniable—he possessed talent on a legendary scale.
Thus, Broph had thoroughly convinced himself of the misunderstanding.
So the idiot’s genius is finally showing!
Looking back, the guy had constantly wandered in and out of the workshop, observing Broph and Bagmar’s research from the closest possible distance (not really). Whenever the topic of blueprints came up, he had made a show of being thoroughly annoyed, but that was just how geniuses were—probably thinking nonstop in his head (not really).
With a meaningful expression, Broph spoke.
“So what did you figure out?”
Jin slowly nodded. To others, it looked like he was deep in thought, but in reality his face was filled with irritation as he opened his mouth.
“I’m not entirely sure, but maybe?”
“Oho! As expected!”
Broph exhaled excitedly through his nose.
“…Really?”
Katrina blinked. In that moment, the profile of Jin reflected in her vision looked unusually handsome.
“Yeah. So sit down first.”
“U-uh, okay.”
Unable to refuse, Katrina sat back down beside Jin, even scooting a little closer with small, fidgeting movements.
Jin paid her no mind. He simply continued staring intently at the status window.
“……”
There it was—a perfectly square face radiating blatant presence, as if mocking the old saying that answers lie within problems. It had not appeared even when he was nearly killed by a missile, yet the moment Broph mentioned the incantation, it had popped up as though waiting for the cue.
Was it supposed to give hints like this in the game too? Because reaching this point was too hard? Or because the difficulty was set to easy? Or maybe Bagmar’s existence itself was the variable?
Thoughts chased one another in circles. They led nowhere. No matter how long he glared at the status window, he had no knowledge to draw conclusions from.
With a reluctant expression, Jin picked up a nearby pen and began scribbling the incantation lines from the status window onto a blank sheet of paper.
The expressions of the other three grew increasingly horrified.
“Uh, uhh?”
“…Good heavens.”
“Oh my god.”
To Jin, it was nothing more than a sloppy transcription, but to the others it was something else entirely. It was as if they were witnessing Mozart dashing off a score in a single stroke—lines and melodies placed purely by intuition, proving genius without calculation. Jin’s casual scribbles alone exuded an untouchable aura.
“Even Ryukard probably couldn’t do something like this…”
In Katrina’s mind, the person she had once considered the greatest genius was quietly demoted to second place. Naturally, a bright filter overlaid Jin’s face in her vision.
“Tch.”
Jin flicked the pen aside. At the same time, the status window faded away.
I’m holding back because people are watching. If I were alone, I would’ve punched the air already. He unclenched his fist.
Why is she sitting so close, though?
Her sparkling deep-blue eyes reflected his face. With a slightly displeased look, he leaned away.
The next moment, Jin slammed his palm on the desk.
“I’m in a crappy mood. Let’s eat dinner first and continue after.”
Stress-eating was exactly Jin’s style.
He stuffed his strangely hollow stomach full of food. Of course, this time he was not eating mindlessly. He also listened as Broph and Bagmar explained the process they planned to attempt for recreating the Eternal Dawn.
“If the incantation you recalled is correct, a proper phase magic should activate. Once that happens, we believe you’ll naturally obtain something that can serve as material for the Eternal Dawn.”
“…Material?”
“I know it’s hard to understand. I felt the same way.”
Broph spoke while slurping his soup. Jin had asked the lady of the house to prepare proper meals, concerned about the old man’s health after he had been surviving on instant food while shut inside the workshop day after day.
“Mmm?”
With a satisfied reaction, Broph continued.
“But what can we do? That’s simply how it is.”
Another spoonful.
“What we thought was a blueprint was actually closer to a spell scroll, and it didn’t specify any particular materials.”
Yet another spoonful.
“So for now, all we can do is hope there’s something hidden in the decoded incantation.”
Broph’s tone was slightly different from usual. As he had said, learning and interpreting runes—something far outside his expertise—had perhaps softened his once-rigid belief in logic and formulas. Or perhaps someone of Broph’s caliber could accept such changes with natural flexibility.
Jin smirked. Using his chopsticks, he skewered pieces of chicken like a makeshift kebab and tore into them.
“You know I could be wrong, right?”
At that moment—
“You’re not wrong.”
“Hm?”
Jin tilted his head at the confident voice. His gaze landed on Katrina, who was wearing a fur hat.
“I’m sure you restored the incantation correctly.”
“…Well, that’s good, then.”
Jin shrugged. He had no idea what basis she had for saying that.
Once the meal ended, the group cleaned up and gathered once more.
Jin narrowed his eyes at the object in his hand—the blueprint of the Eternal Dawn (which was actually a spell scroll). Somehow, he had ended up being the one who had to cast the incantation.
I don’t know anything about this stuff.
Aside from the knowledge that had seeped into his mind, Jin had zero experience casting other spells. He scratched his cheek. Still, he was not particularly worried. He had plenty of experience under his belt. After all, he was a second-rank irregular. When in doubt, just push through with sheer force.
“Shall we do it, then?”
Everyone nodded at his question.
In an oddly solemn atmosphere, Jin raised his mana. He calmly inscribed the lines of the incantation within his mind.
The boundary between day and night that never fades. A breath pulsing in the silence. O beloved name that finds its way home even when forgotten.
The lines discovered by Broph and Bagmar formed the opening.
It is frost shining within the dawn. A brilliant spiral that sheds its form. The genesis of a being that casts off all restraints, and the melody of dawn that slays the long night.
Then Jin’s own lines filled the remaining gaps.
In the next instant, the space before Jin’s eyes twisted.
The floor did not sink. The ceiling did not collapse. Something unknown was simply pulling and warping the surface of reality.
What the hell is this? Did I mess up the spell? That damn status window…!
Even as Jin startled, the scenery before him continued to ripple strangely. At some point, everything around him seemed to stretch into faint lines. Though his body did not feel lighter, it felt as though he were being sucked somewhere.
Suddenly, the surroundings compressed in an instant.
Whoosh—
A sensation of the world scattering brushed against his skin.
At the same time, an unfamiliar voice echoed in his mind.
“Huh? Coming back through this path again? The contract should already be over.”