The Immortality Rune

Nothing was visible. No sensation reached him at all.

Only pitch-black darkness filled every direction.

Amid that void, a single clear system notification rose before his eyes.

At the same moment, light returned to Do-yun’s vision.

“Haaah!”

Do-yun sucked in a ragged breath and forced his body upright. As he rose in a rush, something hard cracked against his forehead and tumbled away.

“Ow!”

He narrowed his eyes—then immediately recognized what it was.

Ciel?

Clutching her flushed forehead, her eyes welled and shimmered. No—looking closer, tear tracks already streaked her cheeks.

Had she been crying the whole time?

“D-Doyun-nim! You’re alive!”

Blinking as if she couldn’t believe it, Ciel threw herself into his arms. Still half-dazed, Do-yun pulled her close and muttered under his breath.

“So I died and came back?”

“Yes! You really startled me!”

Why had he just toppled over while standing fine? Did he have some chronic illness from the start? Ciel’s questions tumbled out one after another. Having collapsed without the slightest warning, her shock was beyond words. El Sion’s attack hadn’t even touched him, after all.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Do-yun gently patted her back while turning over the notifications that had filled his vision in those final moments.

The skill El Sion had triggered right before death: Mutual Destruction. True to its name, it seemed to transfer the damage he himself suffered onto his opponent as well.

He had never imagined an ability like that even existed.

“How the hell was I supposed to see that coming.”

Do-yun could only let out a hollow laugh. Even if he had expected it, it wasn’t the kind of power you could counter. Without the Rune of Immortality, he would have died in the most absurd way imaginable.

Of course, it doesn’t seem completely unrestricted.

If it could simply force an instant kill on anyone, it would have been SSS-rank, not S. Guessing Mutual Destruction’s activation condition wasn’t difficult.

The caster has to take the same damage.

He remembered it clearly—El Sion’s entire body engulfed in flame. Not only that; the system itself had ruled him dead. If it was a skill that demanded throwing everything away to activate, the power to kill Do-yun outright made sense.

“Even so, it’s still broken as hell.”

He exhaled a short sigh and, without thinking, looked toward the place where El Sion had been—then froze solid.

Twitch.

The body that had clearly crumbled into ash amid the flames was slowly gathering back into a single mass.

Only then did Do-yun remember one fact he had forgotten.

“……The Rune of Resurrection isn’t mine alone.”

It was a reward obtained while climbing the Tower of Ascension. Do-yun had alternated between choosing the Rune of Evolution and the Rune of Resurrection as Hall of Fame rewards. It was hardly strange for El Sion—who had reached the Hall of Fame multiple times—to possess one as well.

“Did he activate Mutual Destruction from the start, banking on the Rune of Resurrection?”

Goosebumps raced down Do-yun’s arms. To use even his own life as a strategic tool…

Clang!

Do-yun swung his sword, trying to interrupt the regeneration, but the forcefully driven blade struck a transparent barrier and bounced cleanly away.

Even using the skill changed nothing. The invisible barrier absorbed every impact perfectly.

“Tsk.”

Do-yun clicked his tongue and drew his sword back. Dealing additional damage during regeneration was systemically blocked, it seemed.

What he couldn’t understand was that he had regained consciousness first.

Shouldn’t the one who died first revive first?

Sensing the discrepancy, Do-yun found the source of the difference.

What Do-yun possessed was not a Rune of Resurrection. It performed the same function, yet held a higher rank—the Rune of Immortality. It seemed the penalties built into the revival process simply did not apply to it.

“Or maybe revival time just scales with the severity of the wounds.”

Do-yun watched the slowly regenerating El Sion with a queasy unease. After being swallowed by Sun Swordsmanship until almost no form remained, recognizing that mass as a person was nearly impossible. If he hadn’t known from the start that it was El Sion, he would have taken it for a handful of ash.

“How many hours until regeneration finishes.”

He prodded the corpse still protected by the transparent barrier. He would have liked to finish things cleanly, but given how catastrophic the remains were, he had no idea how long the process would take. Do-yun had his own schedule; he couldn’t sit here indefinitely waiting for it to rise again.

But leaving it like this feels wrong too.

As he weighed the problem, a useful idea surfaced.

“What if I set a trap.”

Having experienced revival himself, he knew exactly how it felt. The moment you first came to, the world spun and every sense dulled. A trap timed for that window would catch even El Sion. Delivering a second death on the spot would be ideal—but leaving even one fatal wound would already be a major gain.

“What would work best.”

He was about to search the surroundings for suitable materials when a rough coughing stopped him in his tracks.

“Cough, cough!”

Following the sound, his gaze landed on Angelina—the one whose chest had been run through earlier.

“What, you’re still alive?”

It might not have been the kindest thing to say to someone who had barely survived, but Do-yun had genuinely believed Angelina had been killed in a single blow. It hadn’t been an ordinary longsword; it was a thick greatsword. Normally, one thrust and pull would have been fatal.

Approaching to check her condition, he finally understood how she had held on.

Almost no blood is flowing.

Compared to the depth and location of the wound, the bleeding was extremely light. The reason was simple: Angelina had forcibly sealed the injury. Every vessel that should have been torn open had been artificially plugged shut. Her moniker—Reassembly—must have come from her ability to work not only on machines but on her own body as well.

“What am I supposed to do with this.”

That didn’t mean her condition was good. She had only prevented death from massive blood loss; the wound itself was far from healed. Her face growing paler by the moment told him she was sliding toward death’s door.

“Hey.”

Then Angelina slowly opened her eyes. A thin voice that seemed ready to snap at any second reached his ears.

“Could you take a syringe out of my bag for me.”

Having poured every scrap of strength into sealing the wound, she looked unable to so much as twitch a finger. Looking at her, Do-yun fell into a brief silence.

Left alone, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Angelina would destroy herself. A perfect chance to eliminate a powerful rival without lifting a finger.

“What does it look like?”

Yet what left his mouth carried an entirely different meaning. The experience on the eighth floor weighed heavily on the decision.

Elysee and Seo Hwi proposed a temporary alliance to me first.

Without their cooperation, he would likely have lost the number-one seat in the Hall of Fame. Of course Elysee hadn’t helped for free—she intended to collect the debt on the tenth floor—but even accounting for that, the gains he had taken away were substantial.

What about Angelina.

She was different from El Sion, who had swung a greatsword at him without warning. She had seemed to hold a certain goodwill toward him. Add a life debt on top of that, and he might forge that goodwill into solid trust.

I need to prepare for when I lose the consecutive first-place rewards, too.

Right now it looked as though Do-yun was pulling ahead. But that was only possible because the lower floors were well-mapped with returnee information. Tenth floor, twentieth, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thirtieth. The higher he climbed, the less useful his knowledge would become, and challengers with their sealed power unlocked would begin to run wild. Even temporary allies would become a powerful force in that scramble.

“I asked what it looks like.”

But Angelina, who needed to describe the syringe, had simply slumped her head. She should at least have said which bag, what color—

Swoosh.

The most likely candidate was the crossbody bag hanging at her waist. Carefully reaching out, Do-yun opened it—and immediately froze in surprise.

Contrary to its modest exterior, an enormously vast space unfolded inside.

……A subspace bag?

The interior stretched so far the end was nowhere in sight. Countless objects of unknown purpose lay scattered throughout.

How am I supposed to find a syringe in all this.

At a loss and floundering, Do-yun watched as Angelina forced her eyes open once more.

“Just think of a syringe.”

Barely conscious, she forced the words out as if her breath were leaving her—then blacked out again. Half-doubting, Do-yun slipped his hand into the bag and pictured a syringe in his mind.

A moment later, a heavy weight settled into his grip.

A syringe brimming with red liquid. With the word “recovery” attached, this had to be it.

Thud.

Do-yun drove the needle straight into Angelina’s arm. The crimson fluid raced through her veins, and color slowly began returning to her face. After a short wait, she carefully pushed herself upright.

“Man, when it comes to potions, there’s just no beating Master.”

Muttering as she checked her body, Angelina looked impossibly fine for someone who had been hovering at death’s door mere minutes earlier.

“Thank you! I thought I was a goner for sure!”

Catching her breath, she soon beamed and offered her gratitude. Her eyes clearly said she would do anything for the person who had saved her life. At that look, Do-yun struck first without missing a beat, as if he had been waiting for exactly this.

“Sorry to ask right after you just recovered, but could you fix one thing for me?”

“Of course! Anything at all—just say the word!”

Rolling up her sleeves with eager energy, Angelina ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠followed the direction of his pointing finger—and her expression immediately went flat.

“Th-that… even for me, that’s impossible.”

He had held out a slim hope, but of course it was too much. Looking down at the pulverized remnants of the sheath that had been shattered enduring the aftermath of Sun Swordsmanship, Do-yun had no choice but to admit it. It wasn’t simply broken; the pieces were scattered like dust. Piecing this back together was closer to creation than restoration.

“Shame.”

But it wasn’t as if there was no method. He had wanted to avoid using it if possible—yet there was no choice now. Do-yun extended his hand toward the sheath remnants. Soft light gathered at his fingertips, and the moment that light touched the fragments, a true miracle unfolded.

When the light faded, what Do-yun saw was Angelina staring with her mouth slightly open in pure disbelief.