ETVC C40

Chapter 40

The hands that had moved so busily stilled.
Could it be… had Baek Sohyeok sought out a cook from the same province as Baek Woojin’s mother, solely for his sake?
I could not be certain, yet the contentment etched upon Sohyeok’s features lent weight to the thought. The true Woojin himself would scarce have set foot in this dining hall, and yet here was a gesture made entirely for him. My throat closed.

If the day should ever come when Sohyeok discovers I am not Woojin…
It felt as though shards of glass rolled restlessly within my chest.

“Thank you for the meal.”
That was the sole phrase I managed over the course of our dining.

“Then, let us proceed to the afternoon’s training.”
Sohyeok had eaten no more than was needful, his bowls wiped clean.

“I warn you—this training shall be harsher still.”

Harsher still? More so than what I have already endured? My mind reeled, yet Sohyeok moved briskly on.

“Come—strike at me.”

Thus began our first true duel.

“Hff… hff…”
He used but one arm, and stood upon a single foot. Yet it was I who dripped with sweat.

That monster—he falters not at all.

“You fought more ably than this before,” he murmured, tilting his head. He must have wondered why my movements seemed so diminished, knowing nothing of my meagre access to Woojin’s true strength.

“Is it your injuries, then?”
A shadow of responsibility crossed his face, his features more serious than ever. He must already be thinking it fell to him to restore me to my full measure.

No, no, you are mistaken!

But there was no mercy in hell.

And yet, if one were to ask whether this infernal training bore fruit—alas, the answer was yes.

“Look at those numbers rise,” Sohyeok remarked.

[Consulting updated status of ‘Baek Woojin (Seo Hangeol).’]
[「Swordsmanship of the Moon」 receives greater blessing of moonlight. Lv35 → Lv37]
[「Weapon Adaptation」 quickens, proficiency increases. Lv30 → Lv31]
[「Blessing of the Thunderbolt」 wraps you more fiercely. Lv28 → Lv29]

The three skills I relied upon most in combat had all ascended. For ordinary hunters, even a single rise in level could take a year; some skills, seldom used, stagnated entirely.

“And yet here they grow swiftly,” Sohyeok said. “So Woojin has not been without talent after all.”

He was right. If one set aside prodigies like Sohyeok and Gwonhoo, the speed of my growth was remarkable. Yet it only sharpened my awareness of how little of Woojin’s true strength I commanded. My fighting ability did not even match the levels my skills now reflected.

The problem is…

I glanced at Sohyeok, who allotted me three hours of training for three minutes of rest.

…my sole sparring partner is this indestructible beast of a man.

Numbers rose, but against him I had no measure. What was the use of progress, when my only foe was a final boss no one could defeat at level cap? A week ago, I could not scratch him. Now, if he deigned to meet me full force, I might inflict a single shallow wound. And I was meant to call this achievement?

The boss himself approached, having counted my three minutes to the second. Escape was not an option. I could only await my fate.

“Tomorrow the second guild war begins. Will you truly participate? It is not too late to withdraw.”

This was cruelty. To drive me so relentlessly, only to tempt me now with retreat?

“Mind your own business.”

Yet here was one curious discovery: the afflictions of “Delayed Adolescence” and “Inferiority Complex” grew quieter when the speaker was exhausted. Too weary to prattle, too breathless to rant. It was, in its way, a blessing.

“Then, since you meet with the guild this evening, we shall end with a final session.”
Sohyeok sighed as if relenting, though he made a show of generosity.

Generosity? After making the morning harsher on purpose?

I raised my sword once more. At first, I had not understood what he meant by slow yet strong strokes. Now, at last, I had grasped the form. Applied to skills, it lent them new weight.

“One hundred. Well done.”

At last, a word of acknowledgment. I waved it off, unwilling to betray gratitude.

“You go to them without dining? If you must join the war, at least choose your companions wisely.”

Sohyeok plainly disapproved of Gwonhoo, and wished to keep me from entering the second guild war with him. Yet he knew that was beyond his right, and so limited himself to repeating the same counsel each day, in different words.

As though I do not know Gwonhoo is dangerous. But what can I do? I have already bound myself in blood contract.

Were Sohyeok to learn that, his fury would be colder than any steel. Some truths were best kept buried.

“I will manage. Spare me your meddling.”

“Very well. I have tempered you enough that no quest will find you wanting. Still, beware of Kang Gwonhoo.”

He held open the training hall’s door, motioning me through. Courtesy demanded I thank him, yet the words stuck fast. And had I spoken, some sharp barb would have escaped instead.

“Ah, you are here again today. Going to dine?”

A guild member I had seen before pressed the lift’s button, greeting us warmly. Sohyeok inclined his head; I answered aloud. Silence fell as the three of us rose. I stole a glance at the man’s sleeve, tugged it lightly, and whispered:

“Please… convey my thanks to the Guildmaster.”

“Pardon?”

“For the training. Tell him I am grateful.”

“…What?”

The man looked bewildered, but it mattered not. I had spoken loud enough for Sohyeok to hear. That was the true purpose.

“And do say—thank him for driving me half to death.”

The guildsman likely thought me mad, but he was one I would seldom meet again. No matter.

“Ah, Guildmaster—your elder brother says—”

“I heard,” Sohyeok cut him off swiftly. His ears were flushed scarlet. I wondered whether shame was the cause.

Silence filled the lift once more. I had not acted thus for years—spurred by duty, as though compelled to do right. And now that I had, Sohyeok’s embarrassment infected me. I wished for a mouse-hole to hide within. When at last the doors opened, the light streaming in was my salvation.

A week had passed before I again entered Kang Gwonhoo’s house. By now, it felt almost familiar.

“You are here?”

Kim Jun greeted me with a weary smile. His appearance was drawn, as though hardship had thinned him.

“Good day, Woojin.”

Ryu Jisoo followed, and she too looked pale. Their faces, gaunt with strain, seemed lighter by three kilograms each. And yet—when I looked lower, there was new muscle, subtly grown.

“Have you been well, Jisoo? You have a younger sibling—should you be away so often?”

Medicine was hard won. To care for her brother herself would have been natural, but guild duties must have drawn her elsewhere. I feared he might be left untended.

“My aunt tends him. He said he wished to greet you someday. And I myself have learned to wield my skill—so at the worksites, they welcome me gladly. But my life—would be perfect, were it not for that man.”

Her eyes flicked toward Gwonhoo. He only shrugged, as though baffled by their grievances.

“You recall, do you not?” he said smoothly. “You may not harm guild, nor guild-member.”

I knew it. Yet the clouded looks on Kim Jun and Ryu Jisoo’s faces did little for my trust.