Chapter 21 - A Savior's Oath
"It's a miracle."
The attending physician shook his head as he set down the chart.
"Medically speaking, it's inexplicable. The nerves, the muscles... they're regenerating as if they've grown anew."
The medical team had predicted a minimum of one year for rehabilitation.
Even then, they said walking without braces would be impossible.
But Park Haya was now standing on her own two feet beside the bed.
"Any pain?"
"None at all."
Park Haya wiggled her toes.
A novel sensation.
But unmistakably her own.
The medical staff left the room, marveling nonstop.
Once they were gone, Park Haya reached out into empty air.
"Thank you."
No one was there.
But she could see them.
Tiny clusters of light twinkling like fireflies.
They clung to her legs, caressing the wounds.
'I thought they were ghosts.'
She had seen them since she was very young.
Black specks floating aimlessly.
Terrifying.
She thought it was a curse that only she could see.
Especially that day, when the plane crashed.
When those black specks enveloped her, she believed they were grim reapers come to drag her to the afterlife.
But they weren't.
They had protected her.
From the shredding debris of the fuselage, from the crushing pressure.
Surviving alone wasn't luck—it was their desperate guardianship.
Name:Park Haya
Level:1
Class:Beloved by the Spirits
Awakening.
When she woke from anesthesia after surgery, a blue window floated before her eyes.
That was when she realized.
That she was different from others.
And that these children were "spirits."
'It's all thanks to him.'
Kim Jeong-seok.
A benefactor whose face she didn't even know.
The letter he sent had unlocked the padlock on her sealed heart.
Words saying she wasn't alone.
Encouragement to survive.
That warmth opened her heart, and the spirits responded.
Park Haya opened the drawer.
Dozens of thank-you letters she had sent to Kim Jeong-seok over time.
No replies.
She hadn't expected any.
Just conveying her feelings was enough.
But this morning.
A reply arrived like a miracle.
I'm relieved to hear the surgery was successful.
I knew someone like you would overcome it.
Now go forth and savor the world freely—walking, running.
P.S.: Soon, an uninvited guest will visit your dreams.
A being cloaked in darkness will extend a hand and urge a contract upon you.
Fear not.
When it appears, meet its gaze squarely and recite the incantation I'll provide.
[Incantation text follows]
Short and concise sentences.
But Park Haya's eyes lingered on the P.S. below.
It was as if he had foreseen her becoming a spirit mage—and what would happen next.
'What an extraordinary person.'
How did he know?
But doubt didn't enter her mind.
He was her savior, who had saved her life and future.
"I'll remember it for sure."
Park Haya clutched the letter to her chest.
Like a cherished talisman, she hugged it tight and lay down.
Slumber overtook her swiftly—perhaps from the medication, or the spirits' lullaby.
Rumble!
Thunder.
No—the sound of the plane's engine exploding.
"...Ah."
Park Haya opened her eyes.
This wasn't the hospital room.
The cabin shook violently.
Lights flickered.
Screams tore at her eardrums.
"Help!"
"We're crashing! Hold on tight!"
A nightmare.
The memory that haunted her every night—that day.
The moment the passenger plane got caught in the typhoon.
Kaboom!
The fuselage ripped apart.
Gale winds rushed in.
Her mother, seated beside her, was flung away.
Her father in the front seat spewed blood from shrapnel wounds.
"Mom! Dad!"
Park Haya reached out.
But she grasped only air.
Everything shredded to pieces.
Metal, plastic, human flesh.
Inside a massive blender.
"I'm scared..."
She curled up in her seat.
Death loomed.
Then.
Whoosh...
In the chaos of the cabin's center.
A silent space formed, as if time had stopped.
And from that darkness, someone emerged.
A shadowy figure cloaked in black robes.
It stood before Park Haya.
A faceless mass of inky mist spoke.
【Poor child.】
The voice burrowed into her brain.
A cold, sweet temptation.
【In pain? Afraid? I'll erase this reality for you.】
The shadow extended a hand.
【Contract with me. Take my hand, and I'll wipe away this horrific memory—grant you new power.】
The dark spirit.
The uninvited guest Kim Jeong-seok had warned her about.
An ordinary human might have seized it in terror, grasping at any straw.
But Park Haya didn't tremble.
One sentence burned clear in her mind.
She lifted her head.
Met the shadow's gaze directly.
"Mayon."
【...?!】
The shadow flinched.
Its outstretched hand froze in midair.
"Entity of darkness. My heart already harbors its own god."
Park Haya placed a hand on her chest.
There lay Kim Jeong-seok's letter—his heart.
To her, god wasn't some distant transcendent being.
It was the man who had pulled her from the abyss of despair.
He was her faith.
"I fear you not."
She declared.
Issued the eviction order.
【You, you wretch...!】
The shadow shrieked.
'Mayon'.
Its true name.
For spirits, being called by name meant yielding control of their existence.
Terror of its hidden secret exposed engulfed Mayon.
【How! How does a mere human know my name?!】
The shadow staggered back.
Its form wavered.
Mayon seemed to glimpse, behind Park Haya, the shadow of someone standing firm—and recoiled in horror.
【A trap! It's a trap!】
Fwhoosh!
The shadow scattered like fleeing smoke.
Darkness lifted.
In Mayon's place, the hazy fragments of memory snapped into sharp focus.
Now she saw.
It wasn't mere luck that she survived.
Amid the wreckage, her bloodied parents shielded her with their bodies.
Even as their bones crushed, they desperately protected her head and chest.
"Ah..."
Tears streamed down Park Haya's cheeks.
A nightmare, yet a truth she must never forget.
Groooan!
The fuselage split in two with a roar.
Gravity vanished.
Plummeting vertically toward the ground in utter despair.
Amid the hellish chaos where even screams shredded in the wind.
Grip.
Someone seized Park Haya's hand.
Not her parents.
They had already lost consciousness.
She turned.
A middle-aged couple from the adjacent aisle.
They had chatted briefly in the lounge before boarding.
Shy smiles about their anniversary trip abroad after so long.
"It's okay, dear."
The woman gripped Park Haya's hand tightly.
Warmth overlaid the pale, terror-stricken knuckles.
Death was at hand.
Yet instead of screaming, they comforted the young girl.
"Don't be scared. It'll be over soon."
The man forced a smile.
Blood trickled from his forehead, but his eyes were kind.
"We have a son about your age."
The woman whispered in a trembling voice.
In their final moments, they thought of the boy left at home.
A couple ending their lives in the cold sky on what should have been their happiest anniversary.
But they poured out longing, not fear.
"I miss him... our Jeong-seok."
"Dear, he's a tough kid. He'll live well."
"Of course. He's our son."
Park Haya's eyes quivered.
What did they just say?
That name seared into her mind—
Kabooooom!
The plane slammed into the ground.
Her vision stained red, everything went black.
"Gasp!"
Park Haya bolted upright.
Ragged breaths burst forth.
Her heart pounded wildly.
"Hah, hah, hah..."
The hospital room.
Morning sunlight poured through the window.
A dream.
No—the restoration of lost memories.
Park Haya stared blankly at her hand.
The one the man and woman had held in the dream.
The warmth lingered, it seemed.
"Kim... Jeong-seok."
Her lips quivered.
Now she understood.
Why a stranger sponsored her so generously.
Why he told her to live, that she wasn't alone.
'It was them.'
Kim Jeong-seok, her sponsor.
He was the son of that couple who held her hand until the end.
Blood kin to the ones who departed at the same moment as her parents.
Park Haya opened the drawer.
Pulled out Kim Jeong-seok's letter.
I too lost my family in that plane crash.
My parents were on that flight.
Every word pierced her heart.
"Hic..."
Sobs erupted.
They called their son's name in their last moments.
And that son found the survivor—extended a hand of salvation.
As if inheriting his parents' final wish.
"Thank you... truly, thank you..."
Park Haya clutched the letter and wept.
A fierce heat welled from deep within.
The will to live.
And a vow to repay the debt.
'I must live.'
Not just exist.
Live brilliantly, more splendidly than anyone.
For her late parents.
For the couple who held her hand.
For the man, Kim Jeong-seok, who raised her anew.
Park Haya wiped her tears.
Whoosh.
The spirits in the air whispered to her.
Comforting, blessing, lending strength.
"Are you watching?"
She spoke to the empty air.
As if he could hear.
"I'll live my absolute best. So I won't be a burden to others. I'll live boldly, for all to see."
Strength filled Park Haya's voice.
"And I'll find you someday. Then, I'll be the one... to take your hand."
She vowed.
Though the world faced cataclysm.
She would live without shame or regret.
And grow stronger than anyone.
That alone was the way to repay him.
'What fine luck today.'
I was cruising the country in a 1-ton truck.
The bed overflowed with all sorts of junk.
Cracked jars, rusted swords, faded scrolls—even shattered gravestone fragments.
To others, I might look like a junk dealer or an old scavenger.
But all of it was relics.
Treasures infused with mana, brimming with potential.
Inventory full, so I loaded the truck directly.
Seems I've gathered about enough.
'Time to move to the next phase.'
One year.
Just one year until the tower's gates open.
I need to assemble Earth's shields and grow stronger myself.
No day can be wasted.
'Park Haya's doing well, I bet?'
Her face crossed my mind.
By now, the dark spirit Mayon should have approached.
That demon from antiquity.
A "Weird" from Timal mythology—black humanoid aberration.
It targets talented spirit mages, forces contracts, exploits their power, twists their nature. The worst of the worst.
In my previous life, Park Haya contracted with Mayon.
One reason she was called the "White Devil."
Mayon shackled her growth.
Yet she still rose to Spirit Lord—her talent was insane.
But this time is different.
I gave her Mayon's true name.
Aberrations lose power when exposed.
They exist as unknowns, feeding on fear.
The moment its name is spoken, Mayon won't dare approach her again.
'She overcame it fine.'
I shrugged.
Park Haya is strong.
With the hope and faith I planted, she'll grow right.
I checked the rearview and switched lanes.
'They're closing in.'
A conspicuous car.
Black sedan.
I turned left; it followed.
Into the alley; it trailed at a distance.
Over an hour now.
I curled my lip.
Pulled over to the shoulder and got out.
"Aigoo, my aching back."
Pretending to stretch, the suited man from the trailing sedan emerged.
He spoke in a forceful tone.
"Chairman Park wishes a word."
Chairman Park, huh.
I smiled inwardly.
A big fish on the first bite.