Dragon Priestess (1)
Son Sang-hee led Baek Seol-hwa toward the Bahamut Temple. They boarded a shuttle bus operated by the Balhut Cult and headed straight there. The path to the temple was utterly straightforward. A direct road from the Balhut Cult's main hall to the Bahamut Temple had long been paved, and the bus sped along it, arriving in moments.
"Here's the Bahamut Temple."
"……?"
"Lots of people, huh. According to internal cult rumors and announcements, you can awaken as an Awakened here artificially—without hunting zombies—through a ritual."
"……."
Even on a weekday, not the weekend, a decent crowd milled at the Bahamut Temple entrance. Balhut Cult members managed the gate, but off-duty citizens also came for the awakening ritual Bahamut provided, praying for future trials. Most were Gyeongju locals.
"Oh. Son Sang-hee."
"Cheol-ho. You all too."
"Haha. Not rushing back to Pohang. Doing the awakening ritual here."
Pohang survivors rescued by the Balhut Cult and hospitalized under cult care visited the temple weekly to awaken before heading home. A throng emerged from the cave mouth, rituals complete—including familiar faces for Son Sang-hee.
"Uh. Who's the kid?"
"Haha. Well…."
The acquaintance's question choked her. How to answer honestly? She's Pohang's Dragon Priestess? Or the famed Awakened from Pohang Airport? Either sounded absurd, so…
"Here for her treatment."
"Makes sense. In that state, seeking the Dragon God as last hope."
She could only say that. Baek Seol-hwa's dire appearance sold it—no further questions. Her acquaintance nodded: natural to implore Bahamut in crisis.
"Then we're heading in."
"Yes. Back to Gyeongju hospital for more treatment."
Son Sang-hee bowed farewell and entered.
"Wires and industrial pipes?"
"…?"
The outside mimicked a plain cave, but inside gleamed modernized—Balhut Cult construction complete. Ceiling wires linked exterior to interior; floor bore pipe traces.
"Power plant nearby?"
War-era work by Gyeongju's remaining cult executives, consulted with Bahamut. Daily water-power hauls drained manpower-fuel, so they piped and wired the temple interior for efficiency. Bahamut thus supplied Gyeongju-Pohang needs seamlessly. With his Pohang liberation pledge, the cult restored city infrastructure too—ready for emergencies.
"Incredible."
"……."
Confirming wall-mounted facilities, Son Sang-hee pondered if they generated power-water here, venturing deeper.
Inside: worship hall and main hall for cult faith rites. A colossal worship space, Bahamut's gift—seating hundreds effortlessly.
"Bahamut's gift to the cult, right?"
Pre-studied via cult site, the photo-grandiosity hit real: Truly from the Dragon God. Majestic, fantastical in cave depths. Self-styled religious, yet rational to her—not fanatic builders of such excess, nor in months.
"Seol-hwa. Temple soon. Bear with it."
Beyond: Bahamut's sanctum. Holiest Balhut site—Dragon God's abode. Path guarded by two armed, burly Awakened.
As wheelchair neared, they tensed—but
"Son Sang-hee?"
"Yes."
"Yuna awaits."
Guest of the Dragon Priestess noted, hostility vanished; doors parted with her name.
Boom.
Vast interior, yet cramped for the skyscraper-sized savior of Pohang. Does he really live here?
Cult insisted, so in she went.
"You've come, Son Sang-hee."
"Y-Yuna!? Didn't expect you here."
Deeper: Balhut pontiff Choi Yu-na, awaiting with Pohang's Priestess-elect.
"Of course—momentous day. My junior Dragon Priestess born."
Her absence odder, Yuna beamed. New Priestess: another Bahamut contractor, her successor serving the Dragon God.
"Wheelchair girl... Pohang's Dragon Priestess?"
"…Yes."
Yuna noted her; Son hesitated, nodded gravely. Fact, like it or not—contract imminent. Executives—Yuna, Bahamut—approved.
"You... chosen by God."
"…?"
"Puzzled now. But contract, and you'll grasp. I was born for this day alone."
Yuna knelt eye-level, clasped hand, spoke deliberately.
Sensing her aura, Seol-hwa flinched—but words resonated. Bewildered selection, terrified of failing Pohang.
"Y-Yuna?"
"……."
"Want to look prettier for God? Sorry. Can't fully heal old wounds—backlash risk."
"Ugh."
Yuna rued limits; even her power insufficient. Son's last hope crumbled—only Bahamut. If he failed…
"Hand shakes. Still don't see why chosen. I get it."
Son imagined doom; Seol-hwa trembled, sweat beading tension. Yuna empathized—felt same.
"But Pohang chose you. Means fate with Bahamut. I believe."
"Fate...?"
"Yes. Fate."
Pohang's vote: destined bond. Son queried dubiously; Yuna affirmed assuredly.
"Now, to Bahamut."
"Th-this state okay?"
"Best now. Treating risks backlash?"
Encouragement done, Yuna rose, guided. Son fretted; Yuna chided—futile here.
"God's choice. Might exceed hopes."
"Exceed hopes."
Son prayed fervently it would.