The First Blessing (3)

The senses that had sharpened in response to raw terror expanded even further. It was no longer just the monster directly in front of her that registered in her mind.

A second orc was clawing its way through the collapsed corridor. Trapped behind its hulking frame, a third orc shoved frantically to squeeze through. Beneath the right wall lay the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fallen tanker, and behind him stood the rookie hunter, frozen in sheer panic. Further back, their mage was desperately weaving an incantation while the archer drew an arrow to full draw. Every lethal variable across the entire battlefield mapped itself into her consciousness simultaneously.

Too late.

Her heightened awareness rendered an instant verdict. Her legs had already lunged forward, but at her current sprint, she wouldn't make it in time. The orc's greataxe had already begun its crushing descent toward the tanker's skull.

Thwack!

Yoon Seoha reversed her grip on her spear. The beast's bloodshot eyes were fixed entirely on the prey pinned under its boots. Raising the axe high had completely exposed its right armpit. Drawing on seven years of muscle memory, she cocked her arm and hurled the weapon straight at the opening.

The spear cut through the air with a piercing hiss. The orc's gaze flickered sideways, but it was already too late. Her amplified perception had calculated the exact trajectory and angle; the rest was down to the veteran instincts she had honed through years of surviving at the bottom of the hierarchy.

Squelch!

The spearhead sank deep into the beast's armpit.

"Gwoooaaargh!"

Strength bled from the monster's right arm, wrenching the axe off course. The heavy blade thundered into the stone floor right beside the tanker's ear, splintering rock in an explosion of sparks. When the monster reflexively slammed its arm down, the embedded shaft became wedged tightly between its thick bicep and ribs. To wrench it free, it would have to drop its axe and use its off-hand—and that fleeting hesitation was precisely what Yoon Seoha had gambled on.

Closing the distance in a desperate sprint, Seoha seized the fallen tanker's shoulder straps with both hands. She shot a sharp glare at the dazed rookie trembling beside him.

"What are you doing?!" she shouted. "Grab the other side!"

"Ah—!"

Snapping out of his stupor, the novice scrambled forward. Together, they heaved the armored man backward across the stone floor.

At that moment, the second orc tried to force its way through the fissure, only to slam into the back of the first beast blocking the narrow choke point. Snarls and guttural roars tore through the cavern as the spear's protruding shaft jammed directly against the newcomer's chest. Caught between the push from behind and the agonizing friction gouging its wound deeper, the wounded orc lashed out in blind fury at its kin. Its massive bulk effectively turned into a living barricade. It wasn't an outcome she had calculated down to the inch, but it bought them precious seconds nonetheless.

An arrow whizzed past, grazing the lead orc's brow. Jarred by the sting, the beast stumbled backward, crashing into the pack piling up behind it.

"Mage! Block the bottleneck!" the party leader roared.

A roaring fireball hurtled overhead, detonating across the mouth of the collapsed tunnel. The blast wasn't enough to incinerate the sturdy brutes, but the burst of flame turned the cramped entrance into absolute pandemonium.

"Move the tanker, now!"

Two other party members rushed in to support the wounded man's weight. Yet their respite was fleeting. With a sickening crunch of splintering wood, the lead orc wrenched the spear from its flesh, snapping the shaft in half through sheer brute force. Free of the obstruction, the monsters regrouped to give chase.

"Retreat!" the leader bellowed.

Seoha cast a fleeting, wistful glance at the broken spear in the monster's grip. That was expensive...

There was no time to mourn lost gear. Her lungs burned as the entire party sprinted toward the exit. Behind them, frantic roars echoed through the cavern as the enraged orcs gave chase, enraged by the bottleneck that had stalled their slaughter.

With her spear gone, Seoha took hold of the tanker's upper torso alongside the rookie, while another teammate supported his legs. Though her hands were occupied carrying the deadweight of an armored man, her eyes never stopped scanning their surroundings. Heavy panting and cold sweat ran down her neck. Weighed down by their casualty, their pace was flagging fast. If they kept running along this straight corridor, they would be overtaken in seconds.

Through her trembling vision, she spotted a fork in the subterranean passage.

"Take the left!" she shouted.

"Isn't the gate to the right?!" someone yelled back.

"The left path loops around to the entrance too! It's slightly longer, but the passage narrows down!"

More importantly, it was a corridor they had cleared and confirmed safe on their way in. The leader didn't hesitate for a second.

"Everyone, left!"

The party veered sharply. Just as Seoha predicted, the pursuing orcs collided clumsily against one another trying to squeeze into the tight mouth of the detour. Enraged bellows reverberated against their backs, but Seoha refused to look behind her.

She was terrified. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest. Yet this time, instead of freezing in place, she had been the one to move first—and she had brought the people behind her out alive.

The ordeal didn't end once they broke out into the daylight. Alerted by their distress beacon, an Association strike team and a subjugation squad from a nearby guild promptly plunged into the gate. It took roughly thirty minutes before word arrived that the final orc had been slain.

Zero casualties. One severely injured.

"...Everyone made it back alive."

At those words, Seoha collapsed onto the grass. A shudder ran through her limbs as all the strength drained from her body. The terror washing over her now was far worse than during the battle itself; her teeth chattered so hard they clicked, and her hands shook uncontrollably.

"Seoha-sunbae."

The rookie hunter approached her cautiously. Instinctively, she clenched her trembling hands into fists to hide them.

"Thank you," he said, bowing deeply at the waist.

Seoha's eyes widened in surprise.

"If not for you, the tanker... no, far more of us would have died in there."

"...It wasn't that big of a deal. Someone else would have—"

"No, they wouldn't," he cut in firmly. "Back there, every single one of us froze."

She fell silent.

"You were the only one who stepped forward. And when we had to run, you directed us to the safe path so we could escape without losing anyone."

Seoha found herself at a loss for words. In the past, it had always been the opposite. Everyone else would react while she remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by fear even when she knew what had to be done. Today was the very first time that dynamic had flipped.

It was because of the blessing.

Yet she still knew next to nothing about its origins. Revealing its existence to others right here was out of the question. Sensing her hesitation, the novice seemed to assume she felt burdened by his praise and respectfully took a step back.

"Regardless, thank you so much."

Left alone, Seoha looked down at her hands. The violent trembling had subsided, but her dread of the gate remained undiminished. A dungeon was an unforgiving place where sudden, deadly anomalies could occur at any moment. The blessing hadn't erased her fear; it had simply unearthed the seven years of experience buried beneath it. Even so, the choice to turn back for a fallen comrade had been hers alone.

Look at you, you coward.

In her early days, stubborn pride had been the only thing keeping her going. She refused to admit she was a coward. She hated the thought of losing to those blessed with innate talent. But somewhere along the line, other people had begun lining up behind her back. Novices just like that young hunter.

'If it's your first raid, stick close to Seoha-sunbae.'

'She catches wind of danger before anyone else.'

Those with far more potential than her, yet lacking the experience to survive, had used her back as a shield while learning the ropes. Before long, they would surpass her and climb to heights she could never reach. She couldn't say it never stung, but watching them move on was always infinitely better than watching them die.

So that's why.

A faint, self-deprecating chuckle escaped her lips. Perhaps sheer obstinacy wasn't the only reason she had stayed in this line of work for seven long years.

After giving a brief statement regarding the incident at the Association branch, Seoha headed home. She had limited her report strictly to the structural collapse and the direction from which the orcs had ambushed them. While she had initially intended to inquire about her new blessing, she ultimately kept her mouth shut during the debriefing.

A blessing with an unknown provider and an unidentifiable classification would instantly attract unwanted scrutiny from senior Association officials and major guilds. Given that blessings could fundamentally alter a hunter's market value, there was no way an anomaly like hers would be swept under the rug.

I should look into this privately first.

All she needed to know was whether similar cases existed and whether any unforeseen risks lurked beneath the surface.

"Phew..."

Collapsing face-first onto her bed, Seoha let out a long sigh. She thought about booting up her laptop, but every muscle in her body ached. Instead, she fished her smartphone out of her pocket.

Searching with the same keywords as yesterday won't get me anywhere.

Her only real option was to ask directly. She logged into a hunter community board she frequented.

She hit submit. The view count ticked up steadily, and before long, the first comments began to appear.

Seoha frowned at the screen.

"How am I supposed to take a picture of a blessing?"

Status windows couldn't be photographed. Even if you aimed a high-end camera right at them, the display remained completely blank.

The entire reason she was asking on an anonymous forum was to avoid Association involvement, so she scrolled past. Finding the topic amusing, users began chiming in rapidly.

As expected, it was utterly useless. Seoha's brow furrowed deeper as she scrolled further down the thread.

After a brief hesitation, she typed a reply.

The comment section went quiet for a moment before erupting into a flood of replies.

"I shouldn't have said anything," she muttered, sorely tempted to shut her screen off. But then a new notification popped up.

Seoha's thumb paused over the glass.

Was it good?

It wasn't an overwhelmingly destructive power. It hadn't slain an orc with a flick of her wrist, nor had it dispelled her terror. And yet...

Replies followed almost immediately.

Seoha let out a quiet, amused breath.

"What a bunch of nonsense..."

Locking her phone, she sat up on the edge of the mattress and summoned her status window once more.

In the end, asking the community had yielded no answers. She still had no idea who this entity was, why they had bestowed a blessing upon someone like her, or whether some hidden danger lurked behind it. Even so, there was no denying that today, she had been saved by its grace.

"...Whoever you are," Seoha murmured into the silence of her empty room, her voice hesitating slightly, "thank you."

After a moment's thought, she cautiously added one more thought in her head.

If there's some kind of price to pay for this, please let me know in advance.

She was, after all, still a coward at heart.

"What is this?"

I looked down at the Record of Blessings resting on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my desk. The entry for Courage of a Coward had changed from yesterday.

A shroud of black mist. A faint, flickering ember at its far edge. And a trail of footprints leading toward that distant light.

"A new trace?"

The mental image within the tome had subtly shifted. The footsteps tracing their way toward the light had finally reached their destination. But right at the very end, the final two footprints had turned around.

With their back turned to that warm, tiny ember. Facing back toward the suffocating black mist they had just fought through.

"..."

It was a trace forged by Yoon Seoha's own will. The blessing I crafted had guided her choices, and those very choices had carved a profound new meaning back into the blessing.

Its completeness rank remained at C, and its explicit effects hadn't dramatically shifted on paper. Yet the resonance of its core imagery was undeniably richer and deeper than when it was first born.

"I thought my job ended once I made it and handed it over."

Who received it. What choices that person made. All of that was part of the process of crafting a blessing. Just as that realization settled in my chest—

A faint, delicate murmur drifted past my ears.

"...Thank you."

"...?"

I snapped my head up. There was no one in my apartment. The television was powered down, and my smartphone lay dark on the table, playing nothing.

And yet, the Record of Blessings was glowing with a gentle, pulsing light.

I stared down at the illuminated page in stunned disbelief.

"...No way."