The Rank One of This Era
I had thought that once I retired—once I left this godforsaken battlefield behind—things would get better.
But trauma followed me like a shadow, rising again every night as nightmares.
Grand titles like hero or Sword Demon brought no comfort at all.
I was nothing more than a broken human being.
Someone still trapped in the past, tormented by the aftereffects of war.
A groan of pure agony slipped from my lips before I could stop it—a sound like a beast's cry, tearing up from deep in my throat. It was so wretched and weak that even I found it hard to hear.
I covered my face with both hands. Hot breath puffed out through the gaps in my disheveled hair.
Damn it.
I didn't want anyone to see me like this. Especially not Seoa. In front of her, I wanted to look strong—someone she could lean on.
But these endless nightmares mocked that wish every single time, reducing me to a wreck.
How long had I sat there like that? The room was filled with nothing but suppressed groans and ragged breathing when—
Click.
The careful sound of the door opening reached me. I jerked my head up in surprise.
A slender silhouette stood against the faint moonlight in the darkness.
Seoa.
She entered the room without a sound. In one hand she held a small teacup, faint steam curling from it. The subtle fragrance of tea leaves brushed my nose.
Seoa said nothing. She simply walked over quietly and perched lightly on the edge of the bed. Then she gently laid her small, warm hands over the back of my trembling hand.
I flinched and tried to pull away. I didn't want her to see this ugly, weak side of me—this crushing pain.
But her hands held mine more firmly than I expected, yet still gently. As if saying it was all right. As if she already knew.
It was strange. The warmth from her small hands began to calm the violent storm inside me like magic. My heart, which had been racing wildly, gradually settled. My labored breathing slowly steadied. Even my trembling fingertips quieted.
The residual images of the nightmare that had crushed my entire body faded like mist clearing away. In their place, the subtle scent of tea leaves filled the air instead of the stench of blood.
In the darkness we said nothing. We simply shared each other's warmth and remained in the quiet silence. Her very presence seemed to wrap around me as a vast comfort.
The bitter loneliness and terror I had endured alone for ten years melted away like snow before her small warmth.
How much time passed? At last, with my head still bowed, I opened my mouth lowly in the darkness. My voice was hoarsely locked, a sound barely squeezed out.
Would Seoa think it was just an excuse if I spoke looking this wretched?
"…Still… sometimes it's hard."
It had been ten years since I last revealed this weak inner self to anyone. On the battlefield I always had to be strong. Weakness meant death. But now Seoa was beside me. In front of her… strangely, I felt it would be all right to fall apart.
Instead of answering, Seoa put more warmth into the hand holding mine and squeezed a little tighter. A careful, affectionate touch, as if handling a fragile glass.
And after a moment, her calm, soft voice cut through the night's stillness and settled by my ear.
"I'm here, you know."
There was no pretense or exaggeration in her voice. Just plain, sincere comfort. Yet it pierced deeper into my heart than any fancy words of consolation. That single phrase—I'm here—seemed to lighten the crushing weight on my heart a little.
Yes. I wasn't alone anymore. Seoa was by my side.
She carefully released my hand and offered me the teacup she had brought. Warmth transferred through my palm.
"It's warm tea. It might… help settle your mind for a bit."
I accepted the cup without a word. Inside the steaming teacup was clear, pale green tea. Probably brewed from leaves she had roasted herself.
I slowly tilted the cup and took a sip. A bitter yet subtle fragrance filled my mouth, traveling down my throat and gently melting my frozen body and mind. One sip, then another.
While I drank, Seoa simply sat quietly beside me, watching over me. I felt no pity or sympathy in her gaze—only deep understanding and unchanging trust. That made me even more at ease.
When I finished the cup, a pleasant warmth spread through my body. The nerves that had been on edge from the nightmare eased, and extreme fatigue washed over me like a wave. My eyelids grew heavy on their own.
Seoa took the empty cup and quietly stood. Then she gently brushed the disheveled hair from my forehead. Her touch was light and warm as a feather.
"You'll be… okay now. Sleep well, Taejun."
With a low whisper, she quietly opened the door and left. In the place she vacated, the subtle tea fragrance and her warm presence seemed to linger.
I lay back down on the bed. Unlike before, my body and mind felt much lighter and more comfortable. Instead of the fear of endless nightmares, the peace left by Seoa's warm touch and comfort filled the room.
As the tension left my body, a languid drowsiness enveloped me. Feeling the sound of insects gradually fade like a lullaby, I slowly sank into the deep peace that had come for the first time in ten years.
The traces of night faded into the cool freshness of dawn.
The peace left by the warm cup of tea Seoa had given me and her quiet presence lasted longer and deeper than I expected. It was the first morning in ten years that I greeted without dreams, without tossing and turning. My body felt light, as if the long-accumulated fatigue had been washed away.
Though a bomb-like anxiety still lurked in a corner of my heart, ready to explode at any time, at least for this moment it was okay. The ordinary daily life I had so longed for seemed faintly within reach.
After finishing breakfast, I dragged my heavy body out of the house. It wasn't that I had anything particular to do. I just wanted to feel the air of my hometown a little more after returning for the first time in ten years.
Though the village was in ruins, the remaining old sights here and there brought back faint memories. I stood under the huge zelkova tree at the village entrance, which still bore the full marks of time.
Memories of playing noisily with friends as a child drifted hazily past. Back then, everything in the world had been simple and clear. A time when I was just an ordinary country boy named Kang Taejun—no worries about gates, no weight of being a hunter, no power of Cheok Jun-gyeong.
I leaned against the tree's shade and closed my eyes. A cool breeze gently brushed my forehead beaded with sweat. The air mixed with the scent of earth and grass seeped deep into my lungs. Chirping birds, the distant sound of a cultivator… everything was peaceful.
Yes. This was it. What I had wanted was this ordinary, quiet time. A life no longer tormented by blood, screams, and the fear of death. Just living like this with Seoa, with my parents.
But peace was always short—whether inside a gate or outside.
Suddenly a loud exhaust roar that seemed ready to tear eardrums shattered the silence. A sharp sound like a race car approached at speed, then screeched to a halt right in front of the zelkova tree. Dust rose in a thick cloud.
Frowning, I looked toward the noise. A dazzling silver supercar that had no business in a rural landscape stood there imposingly. Its sleek body reflected the sunlight so brightly it hurt the eyes.
A moment later the car door slid open upward. Like a scene from a movie, a man stepped out with an arrogant expression. White silver hair that looked dyed, sharp blue eyes. An expensive-looking custom suit further emphasized his haughty air.
A face that seemed familiar from somewhere. Yes—one that had flashed by a few times in hunter-related news.
Titan Guild Master, Choe Kanghyuk. The guy who had held the domestic Rank 1 position for the past ten years while I was gone.
He leaned against the car and looked me up and down as if examining a bug. An open sneer hung on his lips.
"Hmph. So you're the legendary Sword Demon who returned after ten years? You look worse than I expected. Do you enjoy holing up in a backwater like this?"
Even his voice dripped with arrogance. In his blue eyes, undisguised contempt mixed with a strange curiosity. Excitement at facing a being he had only heard of in legends, and at the same time excessive pride in his current position. He had probably come all the way here to confirm how great I had been—and perhaps to further solidify his own status.
I gave no answer. I just looked at him as if he were a nuisance. Dealing with this type of person only grew more tiring the more you engaged. It had been the same on the battlefield, and it was the same now. The best policy was to ignore a loudly barking dog.
Whether he took my silence as affirmation or simply didn't care about my reaction, Choe Kanghyuk continued. His tone was still arrogantly as if bestowing a favor.
"I've heard the rumors. You were quite something inside the gate, they say. Well, past glory. But if you're still useful, consider coming under me. Titan Guild vice-guild master—no, that wouldn't be enough. I'll give you the position of chief combat captain. Treatment befitting your name value. Consider it an honor."
I was dumbfounded. Vice-guild master? Chief combat captain? The way he spoke as if bestowing some great charity was laughable. Ten years ago, when I was still active, it was a guild whose name I had never even heard. I didn't know how much it had grown in the meantime, but to me it was nothing more than a newly hatched chick.
What a pain.
I muttered inwardly and stood up from my seat.