Only One Remains
“Last one. Just 【1】.”
Yeonwoo muttered as she gazed up at the sky.
“We can’t be certain. This is inside a gate, after all.”
The bespectacled man added his calm words. He might have been right. Gates were places beyond human understanding, with no guarantee that the rules or phenomena of the real world applied unchanged. Especially now, with an anomaly blanketing the Ant Nest. No one could say for sure.
But.
“Nah. That’s exactly why.”
Yeonwoo saw it differently. No one in the Ant Nest had a keener sense for anomalies than she did.
“Pardon?”
“It’s a gate, so it’s gonna be even worse.”
It was obvious. Yeonwoo was a hunter who had already experienced an anomaly firsthand—and lived through its aftermath with her own eyes and body. Everyone had died. The Babel folks, the hired hunters—every last one. She’d survived only by sheer luck.
So.
‘Luck alone won’t cut it anymore.’
She never wanted to witness that kind of devastation again. Never wanted to scrape by on chance. She wanted to solve it with her own strength, her own hands. That was her vow for this second life.
“Hunter Yeonwoo! The number in the sky…!”
Mikael rushed over, startled by the sudden change. He wasn’t the only one.
“See? I told you I saw it here.”
“But why’d the number drop? Weird, huh.”
“Even if you’re my sister, you only got one body—you can’t handle ’em all at once, right?”
The hunters who’d stood out most in the camp community flocked to Yeonwoo as if by prior agreement. It didn’t take long for the others to drop their meals and gather nearby.
Of course not. Yeonwoo was always at the center of the camp community.
“Hold up.”
Yeonwoo raised a hand, and every hunter fell silent in unison, as if on cue.
“……”
She closed her eyes. There was something she needed to check.
Yeonwoo focused all five senses on the faint vibrations at her toes. After a long wait.
‘……Huh. Got nothing.’
She cracked her eyes open again. And met a sea of expectant gazes fixed on her.
‘Why’re they staring like that? It’s awkward.’
The mood didn’t allow her to admit she sensed zilch. In the end, Yeonwoo decided to trust her instincts and Vibration Sense a bit more.
Flutter.
She flipped back the hem of her coat and lay flat on the ground. Lying on her side, ear pressed to the dirt, she closed her eyes again.
Rumble……
Finally, she felt it—a vibration. It was uncomfortable with part of her body squished against the ground, but now wasn’t the time to complain.
“Hngh, hm. Ngh……”
But someone else seemed eager to nitpick. Mikael grumbled as he shuffled closer, draping his priestly robes over her body to shield her.
Ruuuuumble—
The vibrations grew clearer. Still faint, but the familiar wavelength let her confirm its presence. It was repetitive, like before.
“They’re coming.”
Yeonwoo finally opened her eyes. The pattern matched the start of the anomaly.
“Same as the first time. They’re swarming.”
First.
At that word, the hunters’ eyes turned outside the camp. Thousands of vibrations drew near. The signal of another ant horde approaching.
“They can’t get into the camp anyway, right…?”
“Yeah. Just means a new hunting ground, huh? Haha.”
The mood wasn’t bad. Not great, but not bad. They swapped opinions on the incoming ants while occasionally glancing skyward. They couldn’t shake the ominous vibe from the red sky and 【1】.
“So, like, the final push?”
“Haha, yeah. Probably nothing big.”
They raised their voices deliberately, trying not to show their unease.
‘Can’t blame ’em.’
Yeonwoo understood completely. She wanted to erase that anxiety if she could. Hell, there shouldn’t even be any to begin with.
‘They’ve done plenty.’
Even accounting for the environment and atmosphere’s heavy influence, personal will was key. They’d grown stronger and gained experience fighting ants themselves. They were beyond beginner hunters now. They’d even taken down a queen ant without her. All they needed was a little nudge.
“Mikael?”
Yeonwoo called him softly.
“Yes?”
“One more time.”
“Pardon? What do you—”
Mikael startled and asked back. To him, Yeonwoo’s sudden declarations were more unnerving than the anomaly itself. But she didn’t give him time to question or explain.
Shing—
Yeonwoo drew her sword outright. The pristine symbol of Eden, Gratitude of Bonds, thrust high toward the sky like a banner.
“You’ve all grown strong enough already!”
Her formal speech stumbled a bit from unfamiliarity, but no one except Mikael minded.
“The camp won’t fall to ants.”
Yeonwoo declared boldly. She was openly invoking Eden’s backing.
“Yeah! We’re strong enough now!”
“More come, more EXP crawling our way, right?”
“Sis, you’re too pretty!”
“Strong or not, they’re just ants!”
Shing—!
The hunters drew their weapons high in showy unison. No hesitation or fear lingered on their faces. 【1】 was no longer a symbol of dread. Just the final hurdle to overcome.
“All hail the Saintess!”
“Woo! All hail the Saintess!”
And then—the shocking outburst!
“Wh-what…!”
Mikael felt his head spin. Overwhelmed by the unfamiliar emotion, he even covered his face with both hands.
“I-I’m a man, what do you mean by—”
But his mumbled words sounded off. His voice was so quiet, only Yeonwoo nearby caught it.
“Hey. Not you, me.”
“……Pardon?”
“You… uh?”
“Ah.”
The brief exchange zipped by. Mikael’s face filled with horror. Why had he reacted to “Saintess” and assumed it was about him? The reason was crystal clear. He was Eden’s secret saint—the one with Grace Beyond Reason.
“Ugh.”
Mikael squeezed his eyes shut. Yeonwoo was unavoidable, but the others couldn’t find out.
“M-May blessings be upon the Saintess!”
He dropped to his knees, hands clasped in prayer. Handing all attention to Yeonwoo.
“H-hey! You nuts…?”
Now their positions flipped. Yeonwoo’s face twisted in shock.
“It’s real! She’s a real Saintess!”
“Wooo! The Saintess is with us!”
The effect was tremendous. Mikael—the one who’d worked healing miracles—kneeling in praise? The misunderstanding snowballed out of control.
“Wai—”
Yeonwoo opened her mouth hastily. But she couldn’t spit out a denial. Partly because the mood forbade it. And partly because it was too embarrassing on second thought.
‘S-Saintess?’
A blatantly feminine title. Not some casual byproduct like “Gold Rank Tutor Girl” that stuck to any XX chromosome. The ticklish holiness, the radiant elegance, the earnest grace—all aimed at her? She couldn’t endure it sane.
“……Ugh.”
Her body was honest. Her face flushed beet red.
“Gotta step up for the Saintess, right?”
“Ready to give my life this instant. Uhahaha!”
“Amen! Whew—”
The tension shattered. In a way, it boiled over with heat. The beauty who’d led charges with overwhelming power was braving embarrassment to rally the cowed masses. A rare sight. Some couldn’t resist popping half-eaten calorie bars back in their mouths—a feast for the eyes.
Ruuuuumble—
By then, the vibrations under the Saintess’s (not) feet sharpened. The approaching fire ant swarm became visible to the naked eye.
“Huh…?”
“Huh.”
But something was off. Their color matched Yeonwoo’s flushed face—bright red.
“Fire ants?”
Someone said.
“……Evolved.”
Yeonwoo muttered. She glanced skyward again.
【1】
Then back to the fire ants.
【12】
【12】 and 【1】 were different. If that difference meant evolution.
Would it end at mere individual strengthening?
‘No.’
Repeating the same actions, committing the same mistakes—that wasn’t evolution. Anomalies weren’t that lenient.
“Scatter.”
Yeonwoo said. It was a hunch, not certainty. But if—if her guess about the anomaly’s “evolution” was right.
Then it’d be a catastrophe.
“Everyone, scatter and hold the line! They might break through!”
The boundary between wasteland and camp. Evolution might let them cross it.
“Huh?”
“Break… through…?”
The ant swarm closed in. No time for questions or explanations.
“We can hold ’em! We’ve trained this hard— no way we lose!”
Yeonwoo bellowed. Her spirited vibe matched the first anomaly’s outbreak, so the hunters nodded with resolve and charged out energetically.
“Argh, screw it—let’s do this!”
“Yeah! Let’s go!”
Everyone moved to their familiar spots. The camp-wasteland boundary. They spread out to face the pouring fire ants.
-Kieeeek!
-Kak, grrrk…!
The fire ants reached the camp’s edge. An uncountable writhing mass.
“Come on.”
“Try crossing if you dare!”
Facing that horde, the hunters showed no fear. They gripped their weapons confidently, waiting for the breach.
Of course. They’d been here over 20 days. The boundary was their home turf. Experience fighting there fueled their confidence; piled EXP and risen stages backed it.
-Kigigik, krgrr.
Finally, the fire ants reached the boundary.
“……!”
“They crossed! They actually crossed!”
They brazenly surged into the camp. But the hunters were surprised, not panicked.
“Then die already!”
“You came this far thinking you’d win?!”
They trusted Yeonwoo’s call. And only a tiny fraction had breached—thanks to the “boundary” itself.
The ant corpses, piled too high to clear from endless kills. Those barricades had hardened into sturdy walls, severely limiting the invasion.
The long isolation in the Ant Nest. 20 days, 14 hours, 31 minutes, 5 seconds. The countless efforts poured into survival. Every bit was a footprint toward life.
Nothing had been in vain.