"Is this… the Land of Shadows?"
Now that Cha Hae-In had successfully taken Scáthach as her master, she finally got to set foot in this mysterious realm herself.
"Why isn't Hunter Sung here?"
She instinctively scanned the area, searching through the hazy fog and jagged stones. Her voice held a faint anticipation she couldn't quite hide. She'd thought she might see him here—yesterday's reunion had been so rushed they hadn't managed even a proper conversation.
"Little Jinwoo has other things to handle. He asked me for a few days off, so he won't be coming for the next few days." Scáthach lowered her lashes, thoughtful. "Normally, I don't allow leave. One day of slacking wastes a month's training. But… what little Jinwoo's doing is also for the sake of growing stronger, so I'll let it slide."
When it came to drive and determination, Sung Jinwoo was the one disciple Scáthach never had to worry about.
Hunting monsters, accumulating experience, raising one's level—such a direct and efficient path to power was inherently irresistible. It naturally drew out a person's maximum initiative.
Cha Hae-In's body trembled almost imperceptibly.
"So… Hunter Sung… isn't here?"
Her expression instantly fell, the light in her eyes dimming with unmistakable disappointment.
To comfort her wounded heart, Cha Hae-In quietly moved closer to Scáthach's side, inching forward like a thief, until her nose brushed those smooth purple strands of hair and inhaled the cool, distinct fragrance.
"Mmm—!"
She drew a deep, satisfied breath as if it were the best comfort in the world. The gloom on her face disappeared immediately, replaced by renewed brightness.
"Full HP restored!"
Scáthach understood Cha Hae-In's "constitution" perfectly well, knowing the real reason the girl had sought her out as a disciple was to eliminate that flaw.
But right now… no matter how you looked at it, this behavior was indistinguishable from an actual pervert's.
Over the next several days, Cha Hae-In stayed in the Land of Shadows, training earnestly to refine her mana control.
Much of what Scáthach taught were theories Cha Hae-In had never heard before. It was like opening a new door, and she benefited greatly from it.
Scáthach had even considered bringing Choi Jong-In alongside Cha Hae-In to test his aptitude for rune magecraft.
Unfortunately, while Cha Hae-In's absence could be arranged—she was only vice guild master—Choi Jong-In, as guild master, carried the full weight of his guild's operations and decisions. He couldn't simply slip away.
...
That day, Cha Hae-In was diligently following Scáthach's instructions, deeply focused on honing her mana control. Since this kind of training prioritized calm concentration and precise manipulation over direct combat, Scáthach soon grew bored.
She wandered off to stretch her limbs on nearby wraiths and monsters, treating it as idle entertainment to pass the time.
Then, without warning, a purple Gate edged with shimmering light appeared in Cha Hae-In's view.
Sung Jinwoo stepped out hurriedly, urgency clear on his tense face. He hadn't even steadied himself before scanning the area for Scáthach.
He didn't find her—
Instead, his gaze collided directly with Cha Hae-In, training not far away. Surprise flashed through both their eyes the instant they made eye contact.
"J-Jinwoo…?"
"Hunter Cha? Why are you here?" Sung Jinwoo blurted automatically, quickly realizing his mistake. "Right—Shishō said she wanted you as a disciple… so you've already accepted."
"Y-yes!" Cha Hae-In nodded vigorously, a radiant smile blooming on her face. Slightly nervous, she adopted a formal tone. "So now… Hunter Sung and I are fellow disciples… P-please take care of me."
She'd finally encountered Sung Jinwoo—the one she'd constantly been thinking about—and even managed to speak with him. Cha Hae-In's heart pounded wildly, like a startled deer crashing around her chest. A bright flush of excitement and shyness spread across her pale cheeks.
But Sung Jinwoo was frantic, noticing none of this. With his brow drawn tight, he urgently asked, "Forget that for now… Do you know where Shishō is? Something urgent's happened—I have to find her immediately!"
Sung Jinwoo's perception was exceptional. With his acute sensitivity to mana fluctuations, he could typically pinpoint targets from far away. Locating people was rarely difficult for him.
But if the person he sought was Scáthach…
Then that skill was nearly useless.
Outside combat, Scáthach's presence was even fainter than an ordinary person's. She was like a dull stone at the roadside, or a passing breeze. Even if she slipped right behind him, Sung Jinwoo would struggle to sense her at all.
When it came to hiding her aura, Scáthach utterly outclassed every assassin he'd ever met.
Like right now—
"Is your head made of wood, my idiotic disciple?" A familiar voice, tinged with helpless amusement, sounded suddenly behind Sung Jinwoo—as untraceable as ever. He hadn't noticed Scáthach arrive, but by now he was almost used to it. "A girl went out of her way to greet you and get closer. What you should've done is accept her goodwill."
"Not be so tactless as to open your mouth and immediately rush off looking for another woman right in front of her."
"Shishō!" Sung Jinwoo whipped around. "Save the jokes for later—I really need you right now!"
"Mm. I can see that," Scáthach responded with mild exasperation. "You've practically written 'urgent' all over your face. I've never seen you this restless. You look like a fish stranded ashore—full of openings. From any angle, I could strike you down in a single blow. It's disgraceful."
Her deep crimson eyes narrowed slightly. Her tone shifted, probing.
"Now tell me… what happened that made you look so weak?"
Sung Jinwoo's anxiety had clearly reached its limit.
The moment he returned to South Korea, he didn't hesitate—he immediately summoned Kaisel, the wyvern he'd recently subdued in the Demon Castle and turned into a shadow soldier.
The now-loyal undead wyvern lowered itself respectfully, allowing Sung Jinwoo and Scáthach to climb onto its broad back. Then, with a powerful beat of its wings, it shot into the sky like a bolt of black lightning, heading straight to their destination.
A mana fluctuation this blatant and uncontrolled would inevitably alert every S-Rank Hunter scattered throughout the city.
But Sung Jinwoo was too frantic to care about the disturbance or the attention it might draw.
Kaisel descended at a hospital.
Sung Jinwoo and Scáthach didn't enter through the front door. Instead, they broke in through a window, directly entering a hospital room.
Scáthach's gaze immediately settled on the unconscious woman lying on the bed. Her face was painfully thin and pale from long-term malnutrition. She wore a simple hospital gown, and her quiet features carried a faint resemblance to Sung Jinwoo.
There wasn't the slightest trace of mana on her.
An utterly ordinary person.
The woman on the bed was Sung Jinwoo's mother.
"This is your mother?" Scáthach's eyes lingered on the woman's pallid face for a moment, then spoke calmly, as if seeing through to the truth of the matter. "Just as you described. Her life force is being drained at an abnormal rate. At her age, she shouldn't look this… withered."
Sung Jinwoo had rushed back from the Demon Castle without even changing out of his torn, battle-worn clothes. The reason he'd hurried home in such desperation, ignoring everything else, was precisely this—
His mother, lying here, clinging to life by a thread.
He didn't answer Scáthach. His face tight with tension, he stepped heavily to the bedside, lifting a trembling hand to gently place the Holy Water of Life to his mother's dry lips.
This bottle was the greatest treasure he'd obtained from the Demon Castle. According to the [System], it contained powerful magic capable of curing all diseases.
His mother suffered from Eternal Slumber—a disease that had appeared ten years earlier alongside Dungeons, mana, and Hunters. Those afflicted fell into unending sleep, their life force consumed at an extreme rate. Only a mana-powered device could sustain them.
The cruelest aspect was that only ordinary, unawakened people—those without even a trace of mana—could be afflicted. Even now, modern medicine had found no effective treatment.
The Holy Water of Life had given Sung Jinwoo hope.
Perhaps because this involved the person closest to him, the normally decisive Sung Jinwoo became unusually cautious—almost fearful of losing what he had. After obtaining the Holy Water, he hadn't immediately gone to the hospital. Instead, he'd first sought Scáthach, wanting her to verify whether it posed any hidden danger.
Only after she assured him it was safe did he rush here with her.
But now, with the bottle at his mother's lips, intense hesitation and tension gripped his heart again.
He felt like a bomb technician holding the last hope in his hands, choosing between two wires that meant life or death—terrified that the slightest error would lead to an irreversible outcome.
"You could have asked me to treat your mother's Eternal Slumber," Scáthach said plainly, as though reading his mind. "You don't fully understand the true value of what you're holding. The 'System' exaggerated when it said it 'cures all diseases,' but even so, this item is far more precious than you realize."
"If you're only curing your mother's Eternal Slumber, using this is like firing a planet-destroying cannon to kill a mosquito—extravagantly wasteful."
"…As long as it can cure my mother, it's enough."
Sung Jinwoo's gaze drifted downward, landing on an old burn scar on his mother's neck.
Memories surged like a tide—
When he was little, he'd tried helping wash his mother's hair, clumsily spilling scalding water on her neck. Yet her first reaction hadn't been fussing over her pain. Instead, she'd soothed him, frantically calming her frightened son, repeatedly asking whether he'd been hurt.
Sung Jinwoo had always known it.
After his father disappeared, his mother carried the entire family alone, raising him and his sister through hardship and bitterness—enduring countless unspoken sacrifices.
I want to share her burden. I want her to stop suffering.
That belief had carried him through countless brushes with death, through desperate struggles, until he'd finally reached this moment.
"Maybe I don't understand how valuable the Holy Water of Life truly is," Sung Jinwoo spoke softly. "But I know this—no matter how precious it is, a hundred times, a thousand times, ten thousand times over… it still wouldn't be more precious than my family."
His grip on the bottle stopped shaking.
As if finally having made his choice, Sung Jinwoo poured all of the Holy Water of Life into his mother's mouth.
Time passed silently in the hospital room, second by second…
On the bed, the woman's paper-white skin slowly regained color, warming into a healthy flush. The lifeless stillness faded. Her life force—once like a candle flickering in the wind—began recovering visibly, like parched earth soaking up rain.
Sung Jinwoo quietly pulled up a chair, sitting beside the bed.
His gaze remained fixed on his mother's sleeping face, as though magnetized—unwilling to look away for even a second. He watched without blinking, as if trying to make up for all the time they'd lost. Hope filled him as he waited for those familiar eyes to open again.
"Why…? Her face has color again—so why won't Mom open her eyes?"
"What's the hurry?" Scáthach replied evenly. "Your mother's Eternal Slumber has indeed been cured. But she's an ordinary person—fragile. After sleeping four full years, she'll need time to wake."
"If you insist, I can apply a small stimulus. Nothing excessive. But could you accept that? No, you couldn't," Scáthach said flatly. "Then wait. This is the moment that tests your patience."
More time passed.
The curtains stirred gently by the window, rising softly in arcs on the breeze, then falling quietly back down—over and over, as if silently counting the moments of a long vigil.
Scáthach seemed to sense something. Without alerting Sung Jinwoo, she slipped quietly from the room, melting into shadow, leaving the space entirely to mother and son.
"Is it… Jinwoo?"
A weak, husky call—uncertain like someone just awakening—rose softly.
The instant the voice reached him, Sung Jinwoo forgot how to breathe.
He'd crushed countless enemies, crossed death's threshold many times.
Yet when he saw his mother awake—heard that familiar voice—a long-buried ache surged into his throat, sharp and fragile enough to make him want to break down and sob.
He bowed his head deeply, shoulders trembling almost imperceptibly, as if trying to hide from his mother what he considered shameful weakness.
Only in front of her was he no longer the Shadow Monarch who commanded countless undead, a figure enemies feared.
Here, he was simply a human being named Sung Jinwoo.