We Cannot Walk Together
Where the light had vanished, only silence settled in its place.
A beat later, something heavy crashed down with a dull thud—the bisected worm striking the ground at last.
Sizzle.
Steam still rose in lazy curls from the seared cross-section, carrying a foul stench with it. The monster’s flesh was turning to ash, crumbling away by degrees.
Then dozens of system alerts bloomed before Do-yun’s eyes.
You have slain the Corrupted Earth Dragon!
You have destroyed a Mana Stone.
You have destroyed a Mana Stone.
You have destroyed a Mana Stone.
The cascade of alerts finally thinned, leaving only one remaining before his eyes.
Current Points — 2652
Far more than he had scraped together wandering all night. Watching the leading digit flip, Do-yun let the corner of his mouth curl upward.
“You’re smiling. Must’ve made a killing, huh?”
Shiina’s voice drifted down from above. When Do-yun lifted his head, he found her circling the air on her broom.
The First Form of Sun Swordsmanship—Dawn—was a technique that manifested only when the blade itself pierced its target. So the moment he had drawn close enough to the ground, Do-yun had leapt from Shiina’s broom without a second thought.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He offered his gratitude toward the sky. Without Shiina’s help, recreating Sun Swordsmanship might have been impossible.
Dawn required two conditions. The first—overwhelming heat—he had figured he could force with a fire spirit if he had to. The second was the problem. Swinging a sword at near-sonic speed was simply beyond his physical limits. An SS-rank skill was meant for those who had already reached the Tower’s highest floors; failing to meet conditions built for them was only natural. Shiina’s flight, however, had let him satisfy the speed requirement through an external factor.
“Where the hell did that ridiculous firepower even come from?”
Unaware of any of that, Shiina wore a faintly unsettled look. She had sensed him preparing something behind her, but she had never imagined a single strike could bisect the worm.
Should I kill him now, while he’s spent?
Outwardly she kept her smile, fingers idly toying with the broom. Do-yun was far too dangerous to observe out of mere curiosity.
Shiina uses Starfire (F)
Every impure twitch of hers registered clearly in Do-yun’s vision. Feigning ignorance, he continued the conversation at an unhurried pace.
“Nothing special. I could use it again if I wanted.”
Shiina’s hand twitched. The claim was pure bluff to anyone looking, yet she could not dismiss the possibility.
One Rune of Evolution restored about a tenth of my power.
She had entered the Hall of Fame only once, and the leap in strength it granted her defied description. The rewards of the Tower of Ascension simply operated outside common sense. With no idea how many times Do-yun had claimed that honor, she had no choice but to tread carefully.
A low murmur of voices reached her. Even while locking eyes with Do-yun, her ears stayed sharp to the noise around them. Distant presences were drawing closer—those who had fled the chaos of the World Tree and the rampaging worm, now creeping back the moment things quieted.
“Well then, I’ll be off.”
Shiina abandoned the idea of killing him and chose to leave instead. If she struck and he counterattacked, everything would be wasted. Even if she somehow succeeded, the hyenas rushing in would simply devour a spent Shiina next.
“If we get the chance, see you around?”
She waved with practiced cheer, black intentions tucked neatly out of sight. The broom shot away across the sky and vanished. Only then did Do-yun ease his hand from the hilt of his sword.
“Good thing the bluff worked!”
Ciel poked his side, voice bright with relief. She had clearly been braced for Shiina to open fire without warning.
“Hm? It wasn’t a bluff.”
Do-yun answered flatly. Ciel’s eyebrows shot up as if to call him a liar.
“I may not look it, but I’ve got a pretty good memory, you know?”
She had been at his side since the fifth floor. She knew every skill, item, and recovery method he possessed—and she knew he had nothing hidden left for a moment like this.
“Thanks to this.”
Do-yun produced a conch shell with a blue outer casing. Ciel eyed it with open suspicion.
“That only restores fatigue, doesn’t it?”
“It used to.”
When he had blown into it earlier to feed the flames, the condensed natural energy inside had poured out all at once. Decades of accumulated power had instantly mended a body strained by the reckless use of an SS-rank skill.
The price is that I can’t use it anymore.
The emptied shell held no trace of energy now. He would have liked to apply Reverse again, but using it on the same target twice was impossible. Still, he tucked the conch carefully into his coat. In the end it was only a vessel for natural energy; someday, in a place rich with that power, he could fill it again.
What matters right now is dealing with those people.
He discarded any lingering attachment to the shell and raised his head. Beyond the trees the worm had shattered, other challengers were beginning to show themselves one by one.
“I’m not at full strength, but there’s no choice.”
No one got to fight every battle in perfect condition. As Do-yun steeled himself, a tree root erupted nearby and sealed off the other challengers’ approach.
Elysee?
Surprise flickered across his face as he looked skyward. He had not expected her to step in and help.
So she was serious about climbing the Tower together.
If she had treated him as an enemy instead, things would have grown far messier. He was grateful—yet he did not lower his sword. Elysee had not driven every challenger away.
Footsteps approached, robes fluttering. Wind-Weathered Immortal Seo Hwi. Elysee seemed to regard him as an ally and had opened a path, but Do-yun could not drop his guard. Their earlier meeting had been friendly only because Seo Hwi had mistaken the power sealed in the conch for kindred cultivation. Now that the shell was empty, would the man’s attitude remain the same?
Seo Hwi halted a short distance away, narrowed his eyes slightly, and studied Do-yun from head to toe.
Did he notice?
Do-yun was about to tighten his grip on the sword when Seo Hwi let out a low murmur of admiration.
“Hah… so you have grasped the principle of emptiness!”
There was no hostility in his gaze, no wariness—only quiet satisfaction and respect. Every emotion in the look he gave Do-yun was positive.
“Only one who has emptied everything can fill the vessel anew.”
Do-yun could only wear a blank expression. Ciel voiced the thought for him.
“He’s interpreting everything however he likes.”
Perhaps the first meeting had left too strong an impression; Seo Hwi’s misunderstanding showed no sign of clearing. Not that it was a bad thing—quite the opposite.
“Might I ask a single favor?”
“A request from a fellow traveler of the Way? I would hear anything.”
Seo Hwi looked ready to grant whatever Do-yun asked on the spot. Do-yun spoke to the man waiting in silence.
“I am looking for someone.”
The person he sought was none other than Robin. The elf would never have wanted to miss the World Tree’s collapse; he had almost certainly been watching from nearby. Even if he had fled the moment things turned, he could not have gone far.
“I will search that direction. Would you check the opposite side?”
“No need. There is a far simpler path.”
Seo Hwi slowly shook his head—not in refusal.
Seo Hwi uses Cloud Mist (F)
Pale mist began to seep from the folds of his robes. At first it only coiled about his feet; soon it spread in widening circles. Soundless fog swallowed every direction. Moments later Seo Hwi’s eyes snapped open and his fist clenched.
“Kh—!”
A small groan answered from that quarter. There was no further need to hesitate. After a brief exchange of glances with Seo Hwi, Do-yun sprinted forward.
The mist hindered his vision as well, yet he moved by other senses. Absolute Sight made it possible.
…Found him.
Beyond the milky haze, a silhouette darted frantically. Elysee had already blocked every other challenger’s approach; the figure could only belong to someone who had remained nearby from the start.
Do-yun drove his foot hard into the earth and cut the man off. Up close, the silhouette was, as expected, Robin. The elf’s eyes went wide as he raised his bow—he had never imagined meeting Do-yun here.
“Hey. Where are the Mana Stones?”
Robin’s gaze wavered for an instant. He had used them to create the worm; none could remain.
“You said you would come for them after twenty-four hours.”
“I did. But that was a deadline you set on your own.”
Do-yun had told him to gather the stones. The timing of the pickup had been Robin’s invention alone.
“Did you not grant me free action?”
Do-yun gave no answer, only stared. Robin knew as well as he did that free action was no absolution for burning through every last Mana Stone.
“More importantly—why did you destroy the monster I prepared?! My wish was about to come true!”
With a shout Robin seized Do-yun by the collar. His eyes, stripped of reason, no longer saw the present.
“Wasn’t your wish to be with your spirit again?”
Still held by the collar, Do-yun asked the question calmly. He had allowed Robin free rein for one reason only: he had trusted the obsession the elf showed toward that spirit.
“As long as the World Tree stands, I can never be with her! I must bring it down!”
“Is that so.”
Do-yun drove the sword home without hesitation.
Thrust.
Blood spilled from Robin’s mouth as the blade sank into his gut. While the elf stared down at the wound in disbelief, Do-yun spoke in a voice of pure ice.
“Sorry. Then I can’t walk with you.”