The S-Classes That I Raised

Chapter 432: Shards of Mist (1)

I hastily pulled out my gun and aimed it at Ru Ga Pheya. My throat bobbed as I swallowed hard. She’d died back then! I killed her— so how…?

“Don’t worry. I’m only a shard of myself.”

She smiled and twirled around. Her white clothes puffed out in a circle, fluttering softly, and the hands that had looked so human split once more into multiple writhing tentacles.

“There was that newly created race called the Goblins, remember? Since they’d finally gained the power of a retainer, I decided to poke at them for later study.”

“So that’s how part of you was left behind?”

“That’s right! This shard of me stayed connected right up until the moment I died. On its own, it couldn’t really do much— but then a dungeon appeared. A dungeon where my retainers took center stage.”

I remembered that the King of Harmless had been among the dungeon’s creators. So when the dungeon was made, the shard’s influence came into play? I couldn’t know the details, of course.

“…Was that message window I saw in the Haeyeon Guild yours?”

“There were two paths there. Han Yujin and Han Yuhyun fight against an L–class nightmare. Or Han Yujin fights against an S–class nightmare. You chose the latter.”

“I don’t recall making that choice.”

“Really?”

Of course, if I’d been given those options, I would have picked the latter without hesitation. Even without the skill–sharing loophole, there’d still have been ways to deal with an S–class opponent. Harder, sure— but possible.

“I thought the Little Moon was just one of Crescent Moon’s children~”

Ru Ga Pheya swayed as though dancing. She reminded me of a giant jellyfish swimming through the water.

“I mean a child a bit more outstanding and likable than the others. But lo and behold! Layer upon layer, you’ve been building it up. How many worlds have you passed through? I want to try it too! Crescent Moon hogged all the fun! I would’ve kept my mouth shut as well, but still!”

Seeing her giddy with pure curiosity made my stomach turn. The victim could lose their self and be dragged away at any moment, and she was saying she wanted to try it? Then again, the first thing she’d said when she saw me was that it was fun and entertaining.

To the King of Harmless, the struggles of people inside this dungeon were nothing more than amusing spectacles, points of interest. In the end, she didn’t see us as equals. At best, lab mice. Even lab mice become pitiful when you grow attached, but not for her.

No wonder Transcendents were so hard to trust. Except for the Elder. And the Rookie had changed quite a bit by now, too.

“I didn’t expect Young Chaos to show up! What’s going on? Crescent Moon inside you was fascinating, too. Even though it was just a remnant left in the dungeon, the rate at which you maintained your sense of self was far higher than expected!”

“…What?”

“I thought more of Crescent Moon’s traits would show. Usually, when you have an incarnation body, the flesh changes a lot. But with you, only the eyes changed. The eyes are usually first, then the hair. After that, depending on the degree of assimilation, even the body itself changes— sometimes the race or gender too.”

Oh, hell, thank goodness that didn’t happen. The King of Harmless peered down at me with sparkling eyes.

“Is your existence level higher than I thought? Because of your titles? The Nurturer title is the most suspicious. Sometimes the system’s stats and the actual stats don’t match. Ah, if only I’d had more time!”

The way she rambled excitedly reminded me of Seok Hayan explaining the results of an experiment.

“So you’re not here to harm me, and you’ll be gone soon?”

“That’s right. The reason I showed up like this is because of reward processing as the dungeon’s manager. The Rookie’s probably handling the others. I was curious about the Little Moon and the Eclipse too, but I could only take one person, so I brought you, Han Yujin. I’m not that good with the system side of things.”

I quietly looked at the regretful Ru Ga Pheya. To the Transcendent in front of me, my story and my brother’s were just curiosities. Yet she was still the only one who had seen everything.

She knew I had regressed, knew about my brother under the tree, and knew about the two left behind in the dungeon. And she wouldn’t empathize with my grief or tend my wounds— she was someone I didn’t need to worry about prying too much into me or hiding things from. And the moment I thought that—

Tears fell, pattering to the ground.

“Han Yujin?”

“…I wanted to tell him too.”

“Hm?”

“I wanted to tell Yuhyun that it was okay! Even if— even if we couldn’t change that ending. I still could have said it!”

Without regressing, without Yuhyun dying, there was no way to defeat the Lautitars. That much was fixed, unchangeable.

But I could have said it.

“I had a little time… I could’ve told him to apologize. No— I could have just said I forgave him. That it was okay.”

Even if I had to force a smile—

“I could have told him I loved him…”

The sobs came out uncontrollably. I just sat down and bawled. It wasn’t like I’d see her again, so there was no need to be embarrassed.

“I could have— hic— I could have said I loved him, and hugged him!”

“Mm, I know. It’s a common regret.”

“This means we made up— hhhk— right?”

“You’re probably just envying another ending in the dungeon.”

“My brother… I sent him off like that…”

Even if the end was unavoidable, I could have ended it better. Just a little more— just a little more. I could have patted his head once. I could have shown him a smile once. If I had, would the ache in my chest be a little less now?

Regret over the dead has no bottom, but still—

A handkerchief was held out to me. Oh, so she could do something human. I had no reason to refuse, so I took it.

“…Give me a basin of water too.”

“Are you done crying?”

“You could cry for three months straight and it wouldn’t be enough.”

Even if I brought Yuhyun back, the knot in my chest would remain. That couldn’t be helped.

“If he doesn’t live well, I swear… He’d better live properly.”

I stood and washed my face in the round bowl of water.

“Of course he’ll live on. If it ended there, I’d be the one frustrated.”

It wouldn’t end just with celebrating his birthday. He’d see the New Year, his own birthday, and then spring would come— with warm air and blooming plum blossoms.

I wiped off the water with the handkerchief. I couldn’t let any trace of crying remain.

“Hey, let me ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“You’re one of the dungeon’s creators, right? They said they’re going to shut it down. Then what happens to the beings left inside?”

“That, I can’t say for sure.”

The jellyfish waved her tentacles lazily as she explained.

“A dungeon is essentially the power of the Source. The system twisted the Source’s power— which tries to swallow the world— into something safer. In other words, the dungeon’s existence itself is beyond the system’s control.”

“…Uh. What I want to know is whether the world inside the dungeon will stay as it is. From our perspective, it’s fake.”

“It is made, yes. But your world was also made by the Source’s power. At the root, they’re the same, so you can’t simply call it fake. So whether a closed dungeon stays or disappears…”

Ru Ga Pheya tilted her head slightly.

“It’s probably up to the Source’s heart.”

“The Source’s heart?”

“The will of the Source. Whether it has a sense of self has been debated for ages. Most Unfilial Children say it doesn’t, while the Filial Duty Addicts say it does. I think it does.”

I pictured the great, white–snowed tree.

“No one’s confirmed the Source’s will except the white bird. And even with the bird, we just guess that’s what it is because we can communicate with it. But one thing’s certain— the Source has at least a minimal will to protect itself.”

Ru Ga Pheya said it with confidence.

“The Eclipse, showing up right on time!”

“…Chief Song?”

“I think it’s like an antibody. A defense against a virus that tries to attack the body— the Source.”

I didn’t like the metaphor, but I had to hear the explanation, so I kept quiet.

“Usually, antibodies form naturally, but the Little Moon isn’t complete yet, right? It hasn’t harmed the Source. Ah— maybe it’s more like a vaccine? Lying in wait, then swallowing it just before the Little Moon is full. And a vaccine is an intentional act.”

“So you’re saying the Source— the Fifth Source— has a will, sensed the threat, and created Chief Song…?”

“It’s not a normal existence, after all.”

I’d suspected as much, but it still hurt to hear.

Crescent Moon created Seong Hyunjae to destroy the Source, and the Source created Song Taewon to destroy Seong Hyunjae. That was basically what she was saying.

“He’s still human, though.”

“If he and the people around him agree he is.”

Right? Ru Ga Pheya folded her— legs?— no, tentacles in midair. So she could make sense sometimes.

“I still don’t know exactly what happened between Crescent Moon and those two…”

“Want me to find out?”

“Hm?”

“Even though Crescent Moon’s gone and mostly scattered, I can scrape together a little information.”

“Really? You can do that? The Elder said the Rookie couldn’t.”

“Handling memories is my specialty.”

“Then please do.”

Who’d have thought the jellyfish would be helpful like this. The world really is unpredictable.

“In exchange, let me take a closer look at you again.”

“…Again?”

Just like last time. Even though she was just a shard that would soon vanish, her curiosity clearly had to be satisfied. Then again, when you think about it, people are the same— life ends eventually, but Transcendents probably saw it as a brief instant, just like I saw her now.

Still, we live.

“Got anything besides tentacles? You had hands earlier.”

“Fingers are short and too few. How long would it take to check everything with those?”

Ru Ga Pheya reached out her tentacles as she spoke. Being prodded by hands was weird enough, but— ugh!

“I still hate tentacles!”

“They’re so convenient.”

“They feel like bugs crawling under my clothes! Hey, just stick to my back!”

“I have to check everything to be sure. Your mana imprints have stabilized a lot.”

Let’s just think of it as a health check. The problem was the instrument doing the checking was creepy—

“Open your mouth wide. Let me see inside.”

“What? Mmph, mmph!”

I clamped my mouth shut and covered it with my hands in protest. Was she nuts? No way!

“Think of it as an endoscopy. Your world does that, right?”

“Mmph!”

“Other holes would hurt. Like your ear—”

“No!”

“Good kid. Want some candy?”

The damned jellyfish changed her clothes into a familiar doctor’s coat and smiled. A stethoscope hung from her neck, and the surroundings shifted into a hospital. In her— no, in the tips of her tentacles— was a candy cane. I really hate tentacles…

“Congratulations, you’ve gotten healthier.”

“…Really?”

“When an incarnation body takes root, there’s usually a process to reinforce the vessel. It varies with assimilation level, but like I said earlier, yours is low, so there’s not much change. Still, your mana imprint has settled properly, so it’ll be easier to use and less likely to shorten your lifespan.”

“So basically, it’s good? If the assimilation rate were higher, would I be tougher? Maybe even get stat boosts?”

“If your body— even your gender— had changed, you’d probably be around C–class now, even with Crescent Moon gone. But at that level of assimilation, you’d have become bound to it.”

I suddenly remembered Young Chaos saying that to extend your lifespan, you had to become bound to a higher–level being. If just the residue of Crescent Moon could raise me to C–class, then with the real thing, maybe S–class was possible.

“What exactly does being bound mean?”

“There are levels of binding. At the lightest, you keep your self but find it hard to disobey orders. At the worst, you need permission just to keep living.”

“So even the ‘light’ version means you have to follow most commands?”

“Anything short of something extreme like ‘Die!’”

Why had the Elder suggested something that dangerous? I mean, sure, if you met a good master, they might just strengthen your body and leave you alone—

“And I think the Nurturer title’s power has gotten stronger since the last time I checked.”

“Stronger?”

“Titles and skills grow, of course. Ah— your Teacher skill might rank up soon. You’ve used it a lot. And the things you’ve put in your body are growing nicely.”

It really did feel like I’d just gotten a medical exam.

“The problem is, your already strong abilities— compared to your body— are growing even more. I’m curious how that’ll turn out. You seem healthier than I expected, which is even stranger. You were definitely born a normal human, so how did this happen?”

“It just happened while I was living, okay?”

“Coincidence, huh.”

“Now, as promised— show me Crescent Moon’s memories.”

The jellyfish nodded and floated back. Thick mist surged around her. Then a faint voice came through.

[ I protected… humanity. ]

It was Chief Song.