Black Badger

“I didn’t say self-funded.”

Deltei said it plainly.

Hildebert let out a quiet, “Ah.”

Igor, who had dragged a beanbag all the way up to the second floor just to sprawl on it, lifted his head. Still clutching the handful of raisins he had been tossing into his mouth, the rookie Swordmaster stared straight toward the bed.

Deltei ignored his gaze.

“The summoner gave him one of the rooms in his house.”

“Ah, I see.”

Hildebert gave another short response.

Then his expression shifted, as if everything had clicked into place. His golden eyes rolled idly as he looked down to the first floor, where Kairos was brushing Milk’s fur.

When the summoner looked up, Hildebert greeted him.

“Thanks... for looking after my lacking subordinate.”

“Haha! Don’t mention it!”

Kairos laughed brightly.

“I’m charging him rent, after all.”

“Well, of course... this place is a wealthy neighborhood. Not that I’m one to talk after mooching off Yun and Jaeyeon.”

“At this level, you could probably get it for free.”

Yoow, who had been sitting beside Deltei with a sullen face while staring at a tablet, cut into the conversation.

“Did you know? Armor Major, Jack Black’s rival, came by this neighborhood once and asked if this hut was your personal warehouse.”

Hildebert looked at Yoow in shock.

Deltei bit her lip, bowing her head as if trying not to laugh. But the effort was pointless—her thin shoulders trembled.

Yoow raised his head from the tablet and met Hildebert’s gaze indifferently.

“Honestly, I would have asked the same thing.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad...”

“It’s just because this area is so wealthy that Armor Major misunderstood. Don’t take it to heart, Captain. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

Kairos chuckled softly, defending his acquaintance.

Hildebert answered that he already knew that—but still looked a little hurt.

Yoow, rather than comforting him, merely scoffed.

“This rookie Swordmaster got lucky. The summoner’s house is absurdly large—one room alone is enormous.”

“That’s why I manage it. Separate from the rent, I handle the housework and chase off the stalkers who occasionally show up.”

“You do housework?”

Hildebert looked at Igor with an odd expression.

“You... do it well...?”

“I’ve always lived neatly, Commander. What’s with that suspicious look?”

“No, it’s just hard to imagine. You don’t even use shampoo or conditioner.”

“Soap is enough.”

“Igor just doesn’t have many belongings.”

Deltei said lightly.

Kairos added a bit of support for Igor.

“Whenever I come home, both the food waste and regular trash are all neatly taken care of. I’m quite grateful.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Igor replied leisurely.

As Hildebert stared at Igor’s shamelessness in disbelief, Yoow snorted again.

“From the summoner’s perspective, hiring a professional cleaning service would be far better. No matter how well Igor does, he can’t match a professional. You can think of it as the summoner doing charity work for his own kind. It’s not like they were even close. And wasn’t Igor the one who used to hate summoners?”

“He’s been changing his mind because of him.”

“Haha. That’s an honor.”

“Not that Igor’s change of heart has anything to do with the Fire Dragon Lord.”

Hildebert listened quietly to the idle chatter of his subordinates, a faint smile on his face.

Even though he had woken up after seven months, they had remained in their places as if nothing had changed. They hadn’t reacted with the same shock as the Badgers. Yoow had even remarked, ‘Looks like you hurried a bit this time?’

Deltei, on the other hand, had cried her eyes out.

Either way, the ones who had waited for him were still here beside him. Rose and Lin, who were often away from Center Core due to work, had also reached out. Every time Hildebert tried to thank them, they brushed it off lightly.

And (aside from Lin) all of them continued their duties as usual, reporting back to him.

Yoow and Deltei were excellent administrators. Once again, it was they who handled the aftermath.

The kin who had died in the war.

Their remains had been gathered and given proper funerals. Through meetings with leadership and the Elders, decisions were made regarding the survivors.

Igor, with Ska’s help, had pulled the captured enemies to the rear.

“He’s a good man.”

Because of that, Ska had earned high praise among those who frequently visited the hut.

“He’s got backbone, too.”

Some of the survivors blended into the Core.

But others said they could never live in Center Core. After long discussions, they were relocated to a sparsely populated Core.

Nabarate was currently there as well.

“Originally, Byung Yeong-baek was supposed to stay behind and inscribe the formula.”

Deltei relayed what {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} she had heard through Nabarate.

“But he got swept away, so Nabarate volunteered to stay. Someone had to remain to write the formula.”

“We are monitoring them regularly. Financial support is also being provided, so even if they’re not happy, they won’t be living in misery.”

Yoow added calmly.

Then, looking at Hildebert—who gave a faint, grateful smile—the strategist continued:

“This is the best we can do. Most of the survivors had at least some experience with Earth before the war. Those born after the war mostly crossed dimensions. Speaking as an administrator, I believe Kyle made the right decision.”

Hildebert listened, then smiled sadly without replying for a moment.

He sat on the bed, lost in thought, staring somewhere into the air before finally speaking.

“Thank you. Keep sending reports from time to time. I’m in no position to provide financial support right now, but...”

“You should borrow money from the summoner and start paying off your debts—to your mentor and the former Supreme Commander.”

The response came cold and sharp.

The sudden shift in tone made Hildebert’s eyes widen.

But Yoow didn’t give him time to sink into his thoughts. As if he had been waiting for this moment, he opened a prepared document.

And so, the former Knight Commander was forced to sit on the bed and listen to a full explanation of his financial situation. Now that he had been discharged, it was time to face harsh reality.

This amount of debt—while trivial to those who helped repay parts of it—is something you could never repay even if you worked as a Black Badger your entire life...

The former Supreme Commander may not charge interest or demand repayment, but your mentor is a different story...

Frankly, at this level, it would be more reasonable to submit a bodily forfeiture agreement...

Even after submitting it, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were still expected to cover the difference...

It’s frightening, isn’t it? It seems they’ve been looking at you with long-term expectations...

Of course it’s frightening...

If you’re desperate, you could always shoot commercials...

You’re probably the strongest living being on Earth right now, aside from the Ice Dragon, but that doesn’t seem particularly helpful for making money...

As the lecture dragged on, Kairos hurried upstairs to stop the strategist.

He was ignored.

Deltei, who had been on her phone, quietly fled. Igor fell asleep on the beanbag.

Ami, who had come over from next door, quickly assessed the situation and fled the hut as well.

“Yoow!”

Hildebert called out desperately.

“I’m really sleepy.”

Only after Hildebert, now utterly deflated, said that did the meeting in the hut finally come to an end.

***

Erich Erhart came to visit the hut.

The very next day after Hildebert’s discharge.

It was a bright morning with the sun pleasantly high. By the time Erich knocked on the door, Hildebert was suffering from the aftereffects of having enthusiastically roamed the Black Badger headquarters the day before.

The Elder threw the door open and, upon seeing Hildebert groaning from muscle pain, broke into a wide smile.

“Ah, you’re just the same as ever!”

Hildebert shot him a flat look.

But Erich ignored it, cheerfully saying, “A housewarming gift,” as he set down several wrapped boxes.

Shashinsky carried them inside.

Another man followed behind him.

“Seunghyun.”

Hildebert’s eyes widened as he looked at Lee Seunghyun.

“You...?”

“I quickly secured him with an employment contract.”

It was Erich who answered, not Seunghyun.

The man ascended gracefully to the second floor and casually sat in the chair beside the bed, smiling faintly.

“How could I let such talent slip away?”

“I thought you only kept those who worship you under your command.”

“Close protection staff have always been like that. But Lee Seunghyun is a professional among professionals—I had no intention of letting anyone take him.”

Hildebert nodded slowly, as if he understood.

His expression said he would have made the same choice.

But at the next words, his eyes widened again.

“For reference, I signed him on a nine-to-six routine protection contract. Even just that is something to be grateful for.”

“Must have been urgent.”

“It was. How could it not be? First place is a lonely seat. You don’t yet know how ambitious the one who just took third place is, do you?”

“I think I’d rather keep not knowing. I don’t need to stick my head into that anymore.”

“Ah! Fair enough. Congratulations on escaping the game board.”

“How’s your finger?”

Hildebert asked, looking at Lee Seunghyun, who had come to stand beside Shashinsky.

The black-haired man replied briefly.

“It does not interfere with daily life at all.”

Hildebert let out a small, dry chuckle at the answer—very much like him.

Then he turned his gaze back to the Elder, who was smiling brightly at him.

He opened his mouth with a businesslike expression, but upon seeing that smile, his face twisted.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

Erich, resting his chin on his hand, raised an eyebrow.

“Is my smile unpleasant to look at?”

“No, that’s not it. You know what I mean. I thought I’d gotten a lot better.”

This time, Erich laughed.

“Yes. You do look that way. Like someone who has set down his heaviest burden.”

“Then why are you smiling at me like that?”

“I always wish for your happiness.”

Erich Erhart put on an almost prim expression, as if he genuinely didn’t understand the question.

Hildebert pressed his forehead and sighed. Shashinsky closed his eyes in resignation.

Erich smiled again before answering.

“Perhaps you’ve come to miss even the hatred the other once poured out?”

In an instant, Hildebert’s expression vanished.

The man with golden eyes sank into silence as if swallowed whole, saying nothing for a long time.

Only after the morning sunlight had warmed the blanket did he finally whisper:

“I’m not going to use the Black Star Stone anymore. I’ll leave it as it is.”

It was almost a murmur to himself.

Erich, still propping his chin on his hand, seemed to understand despite the lack of explanation—his smile deepening.

“And... I’ll go out for chocolate sundaes sometimes.”

After saying that, Hildebert began to drift off, nodding as sleep overtook him.

Erich Erhart remained seated quietly until the golden-eyed knight fell asleep. Only when his breathing had settled into a steady rhythm did he rise and leave the hut.

***

Hildebert met Shu.

A senior who had just returned from reclamation work.

Shu Diamond came in with a hoverboard tucked under one arm. After buying Hildebert a warm drink, she gave him updates.

Soon, new juniors would be assigned under Nana Dol, Luke Lyle, and Jack Black.

He heard stories about the juniors who had gone out on their first reclamation assignments, about Asil Fiscer finally being discharged, and about Simon Diamond, who had bought a new house out of sheer exasperation.

They talked briefly about the sports festival before the topic shifted.

They brought up Cecil.

That final moment.

“I want to keep her last words to myself. Is that alright?”

“Of course.”

Hildebert answered.

“I don’t want to share the last farewell I heard with anyone either.”

Shu looked into his golden eyes and smiled faintly.

But the smile didn’t last.

The Black Badger headquarters had been fully repaired. A new café had opened on the first floor. The two of them sat in a corner sofa of the newly furnished space, quietly watching people pass by through the large windows.

It was Shu who broke the settled silence first.

She already knew Hildebert would soon go to meet the Personnel Director.

“You’ve never received a will before, have you?”

“No.”

Naturally, there had been casualties on the Badgers’ side as well.

More than during Cecil’s rampage.

But the one death that shook the Black Badgers the most was Richard Green.

He had been their pillar.

Someone who seemed like he would never break.

The only one who had been a soldier even before the First War began.

His death had a massive impact on the organization. The funeral for him and the others had been held with great ceremony while Hildebert lay in a coma.

Ju had unsealed several blue ribbons.

Among the many wills that were opened, only Richard Green had left a separate message specifically for Hildebert.

And so today, Hildebert was going to meet Ju.

While everyone else had already begun moving forward after accepting the loss, Hildebert was only now beginning to process it.

Shu felt pity for her junior.

Because she knew how difficult that process was.

“You’re here.”

Hildebert’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

He picked up his crutches.

“Shu. Thank you for the drink. When you have time, come hang out with me sometimes. I’ll be going now.”

“Take care.”

Shu saw him off calmly.

“Don’t rush.”

Hildebert smiled and gave a small nod.

***

He went up to the rooftop.

It was the place he had stumbled up to during the year-end party while drunk.

Back then, he had probably taken the stairs. But now, even the stairs in the hut were difficult for him to use, so he quietly took the elevator.

Holding a single folded sheet of paper in one hand.

Richard Green’s final words to him were written on it.

Ju had said that since it was meant solely for him, he should read it alone if possible. He had also apologized for having read it first.

Hildebert had thanked him quietly and accepted the neatly folded paper.

He didn’t open it immediately. Instead, he stepped into the elevator.

As it rose, he briefly thought about Ju—about the position of someone who had to read the wills of the fallen, over and over again.

Ding!

The elevator arrived.

He stepped out slowly.

Perhaps because he had rested well that morning, he felt full of energy. With steady confidence, he pushed open the door leading to the rooftop.

Then he took a step out—

“Wow.”

The weather was beautiful.

“It’s... nice.”

The sky was clear.

The last time he had been here, it had been night—the city lights stretching below. But now, before his eyes, Center Core lay bathed in midday sunlight.

Even beneath the Core’s covering, tall buildings rose sharply against the vivid blue sky.

The sound of the wind carried faint traces of the city’s everyday noise. A fresh breeze brushed past his cheek.

He stood still by the door for a while, simply taking in the refreshing sensation.

Only after a white cloud drifted out of his view did he begin walking slowly toward the edge.

When he reached the railing, he leaned his crutches neatly against it.

He looked down at the people moving below.

Bending slightly, he took in the world spread at his feet.

Only when that quiet observation began to grow dull did he reach into his pocket and pull out the folded paper.

He unfolded it and read the will Richard Green had left for him.

The handwriting—firm and unmistakably his.

[Keep walking.]

That was Richard’s will.

Short. Simple.

There was no explanation before or after.

Hildebert lowered his gaze to the paper, its edge fluttering lightly in the wind.

The gentle breeze brushed past the moisture gathering in his eyes.

He blinked and read the words again.

Then the wave of emotion came.

This time, he didn’t push it away.

Loss, grief, guilt, gratitude—he let himself be swallowed by all of it.

Only after the tide had receded did he find the strength to move again.

With a faint tremor in his hand, he folded the paper.

“Yes.”

Pressing the edge firmly, he answered the one who was no longer there.

“I will.”

After putting the will away, he looked out at the world below once more.

Here—

With the seniors who had accepted him as he was.

He remained on the rooftop for a long time after that.

***

A vast sky.

“Kyle!”

Clear, crisp air.

“Captain!”

Bright voices echoed across the grasslands.

“Look at this! I caught something amazing!”

“Hey! I saw it first!”

“I told you not to wander off like that.”

The black-haired man turned his head toward the voices—

And in that moment, a magician stepped into his line of sight, blocking it.

She muttered in a sulky tone:

“You’re not fully healed yet.”

“You get better by walking.”

With white hair flowing, the magician stood with her arms crossed.

The black-haired man looked at her and laughed softly.

“Even if it’s clumsy, you keep walking—and little by little, you improve.”

Even as he said that, he began to move, as if willing to follow her advice.

Fixing his gaze ahead, he walked slowly.

Toward the children running toward him.

With steps that were still a little unsteady.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to run first again this time?”

Kyle murmured to himself as he moved forward.

His golden eyes curved into a smile.

And he walked toward the future.

Black Badger — End