There Is No World For ■■

Self-Sacrifice

『When asked by a journalist how to distinguish between a bastard with power and a hero, the Border Lord's reply.』

Corvus sat atop the air traffic control tower, far from the journalists' gazes, glaring discontentedly at the Dungan Heavy Industries aircraft below.

It had been two hours since his student went inside.

Whatever he was doing in there, it was surely enough time to substantiate the rumors of his ties to a dwarven tycoon.

"...Tsk."

Was it anger at wealth inequality or jealousy toward dwarves who had adapted to modern Earth? Given Yeomyeong's personality, he wouldn’t be indulging himself in revelry inside, but Corvus couldn’t shake his irritation.

Kicking at birds stupid enough to approach him like a friend or pecking at the control tower ceiling with his beak, he killed time idly.

Suddenly, the sound of murmuring journalists caught his attention.

He turned to see none other than the Saintess, wearing her signature white eyepatch, striding across the airport toward the dwarven aircraft.

Perhaps her fear of journalists had vanished, as the Saintess confidently walked through the sea of cameras and entered the plane.

Another ten minutes passed, and the airplane door opened, but only Yeomyeong emerged.

'Where’s the Saintess?'

Squinting in confusion, Corvus noticed something new: a white scabbard swinging from Yeomyeong’s hip, something he didn’t have before entering.

It was undeniably a dwarf-crafted scabbard.

Finally, the journalists noticed Yeomyeong and stood up. Ignoring the airport lobby, Yeomyeong turned toward the runway and leapt over the fence in one swift motion.

"His temper, really."

Corvus spread his wings and glided toward his student. After a short flight, she landed softly beside him.

The moment Yeomyeong gave her a slight bow, she couldn’t hold back her question any longer.

"Disciple, what were you doing in that airplane?"

Despite the abruptness of the question, Yeomyeong didn’t seem flustered. He tapped the scabbard on his hip and replied.

"I got a sword."

"A sword? Did those little tightfists force you to buy it?"

Her words were blatantly racist. Yeomyeong gave a wry smile.

"We crossed paths in Manchuria... They gave it to me as a gift."

"Hrmm."

A free gift? Tightfisted dwarves giving away something valuable?

Corvus interpreted his awkward smile as a sign of embarrassment.

Like the considerate teacher she was, she changed the subject.

"Disciple, about that thing I mentioned to you yesterday...."

"What thing?"

"You know, the person who seems human but feels like a beastfolk."

At those words, Yeomyeong’s gaze sharpened.

"Don’t tell me you’ve already found them?"

It hadn’t even been a day since Yeomyeong mentioned it. Corvus nodded.

"I found them. As you said, they had an odd beastfolk-like presence. It wasn’t hard to notice."

"Where...?"

Before Yeomyeong could finish his question, Corvus’s eyes shifted toward the far end of the runway, where a street cleaner was sweeping the outer road.

"That guy?"

By chance, the street cleaner locked eyes with Yeomyeong.

A brief silence. An awkward exchange of gazes.

Yeomyeong realized the cleaner’s broom movements were too unnatural, just as the "cleaner" realized Corvus was a beastfolk.

"...He was cleaning sewers this morning."

Taking Corvus’s remark as a signal, Yeomyeong immediately used his Flash Step technique. The fake cleaner tossed his broom aside and started sprinting down the road.

Crack!

Yeomyeong reflexively conjured an ice spike and hurled it. The sharp ice, glinting in the sunlight, sliced through the air like a bullet.

The cleaner let out a scream, more like an animal’s cry than a human’s, as he rolled across the ground with the spike lodged in his side.

Clang!

Clutching his wound, he scrambled to his feet and ripped open a nearby manhole cover.

‘A sewer?’

As Yeomyeong furrowed his brow, Corvus unleashed a volley of ice spikes at the man.

Crash!

A few spikes struck the man, but he barely managed to dive into the sewer.

The midday magic spectacle startled a few onlookers, who screamed or backed away. Ignoring them, Yeomyeong and Corvus jumped into the sewer after him.

Thud!

The sewer was pitch-black, but both Corvus and Yeomyeong were seasoned superhumans. Darkness wasn’t an issue.

"Blood scent! That way!"

Following the trail of blood through the stench of the sewer, they pursued the man.

The air was damp and foul, their footsteps echoing through the tunnels. The scent of blood seemed so close they could almost touch it, but the distance between them and their prey stubbornly refused to close.

"He knows the layout too well," Corvus grumbled mid-flight, but Yeomyeong remained calm.

No matter how vast the sewers, Road Howe was an island. The man was just a rat in a trap.

Or so they thought.

As they reached a large chamber deep within the sewer, filled with warped mana, Yeomyeong’s instincts screamed that something was wrong.

A massive altar built of stone and corpses, surrounded by flayed human skins, loomed before them. Atop the altar stood a leather-clad priest, gazing down at the two.

"Huff... Huff... You... damned guardians of the Saintess... and... wretched, feathered kin...."

"Kin? What kin? Fur and feathers don’t make kin. Stop your nonsense and surrender," Corvus replied, summoning ice spikes.

Dozens of icy projectiles surrounded the altar, but the priest merely bared his teeth in a grin.

"Your defeat is assured."

As he spoke, he pulled out a massive black gem.

"A Fallen Stone?!"

Corvus immediately launched her ice spikes, but the priest crushed the gem just before they could impale him.

"Disciple! Get away—!"

Crack.

The gem shattered, and as Corvus’s claws reached for Yeomyeong’s shoulder, his world was swallowed by darkness.

The atmosphere shifted.

From Road Howe Academy to Sydney, Australia, and even beneath the National Assembly building in South Korea.

All who could sense mana felt the distortion and turned their eyes toward the northern island of Road Howe Academy.

"Darulma, I’m not asking for much. Just give me something equal to what Yeomyeong got, okay?"

As the Saintess strolled between display cases, Darulma broke into a cold sweat.

"Uh, Saintess... I had a separate deal with Yeomyeong...."

"Oh, I don’t care about that. Just give me a hammer."

Her demand was less a request and more outright extortion, leaving Darulma to shut his eyes in resignation.

It was bad enough that she showed up uninvited, but for her to outright demand weapons? And Yeomyeong had conveniently fled with his own haul, leaving Darulma to face this disaster alone.

"Saintess, how about this? Our latest assault rifle, complete with grenades and extra magazines...?"

"Really? I’ll take it."

"What?"

"Ooh, this pistol’s cute too!"

The Saintess plucked a pistol from its display, inspecting it with glee.

Watching his finest mana-infused weaponry go from masterpieces to secondhand goods in real time, Darulma dared not protest.

The Saintess, after all, was sacred.

Though his instincts as a businessman screamed against giving things away for free, he couldn’t bring himself to argue against her.

Surely, she must have a higher purpose...?

As he entertained the thought, the Saintess’s expression suddenly hardened.

"Saintess?"

Ignoring Darulma’s call, she began sweeping weapons into her arms: pistols, rifles, ammunition, even prototype explosives.

She piled them onto the airplane floor, hesitating briefly before grabbing a massive dwarf-forged hammer from its case.

Darulma, too stunned to stop her, could only watch as she frantically armed herself.

"Saintess, what’s going on?"

Just as he cautiously tried to inquire, the Saintess spoke in a rush.

"Darulma, I’m sorry, but charge it all to the Holy Nation’s account...."

And with that, she disappeared into the darkness.

A Dorm Room Left Vacant by the Disturbed Sae-mi-ri

The dorm room once occupied by Sae-mi-ri, who had become strangely distant, was now filled with the four sisters who had once been called sacrificial lambs.

"Sis," Neti was the first to break the silence, her husky voice carrying through the room.

"How far have you gone with Yeomyeong oppa?"

"...What?"

Seti, who had been organizing documents, frowned as she turned to see her younger sister sprawled on the bed.

A girl with short, roughly combed blue hair and rebellious eyes that left a strong impression.

Whether it was her defiant appearance or the leather jacket she wore in violation of school rules, she was the very picture of a delinquent.

"Oh, pretending not to hear? Fine, I’ll ask again. How far did you go with Yeomyeong oppa the day your restraints were lifted?"

At Neti's suggestive smile, Seti sighed, rubbing her temples in a gesture Yeomyeong often made.

She had gathered her sisters to discuss their plans moving forward: to piece together the Shepherd’s coerced story and decide which country they’d flee to.

But the first words out of her sister’s mouth?

"...Why do you want to know that all of a sudden?"

"I’m just curious if I’m getting a brother-in-law already."

"...Brother-in-law?"

"Oh, come on, sis, you’re not going to deny there’s something between you two, are you? Don’t lie. Everyone sees how you’re glued to him in every class."

"That’s not...."

"And the fact that you only separate during meals makes it even more suspicious. You know the airheads are already spreading rumors about the two of you being a couple, right?"

Seti pressed her lips together tightly. Neti grinned wider.

"And if anyone else doesn’t know, we sisters do. We’ve all noticed how you’ve been touching your lips constantly since that day."

"...."

"What are you, the heroine of a romance manga? Siri says she wants to puke every time she sees you do it."

From the back of the room, Siri muttered, "I never said that, you lunatic," though if she truly felt wronged, she wouldn’t have let Neti go on this long.

Her expression, mirroring Neti’s mischievous grin, proved as much.

Seti pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. These little brats were getting on her last nerve.

"Nothing happened between us, so let’s drop this, okay?"

Her ultimatum didn’t stop her sister.

"The more you dodge the question, the more suspicious it gets. Sis, don’t tell me... you even did this?"

Neti formed a circle with her left thumb and forefinger, then repeatedly inserted and withdrew her right index finger.

She continued the obscene gesture until Seti’s patience finally snapped.

Siri covered the youngest sister’s eyes while averting her own.

"You...!"

Seti’s face turned bright red as she shot to her feet, fists clenched and advancing menacingly.

"Sis, wait, you’re not actually going to—"

Thwack!

Neti collapsed onto the bed, clutching her forehead. Tears welled in her eyes as pain burned across her skin, yet a smile played at her lips.

"You hit me just for talking about boys? Ha, Seti unni, of all people?"

She laughed, holding her forehead, tears streaming down her cheeks from mirth rather than pain.

Her unexpected laughter startled the sisters, who watched her with puzzled expressions. Neti laughed and laughed, her breath catching until she finally spoke, her voice lighter and freer.

"...This is nice."

"Nice? Do you want another punch?"

Seti raised her hand again, but Neti waved it off hurriedly.

"No, no, not that! I just mean... it’s nice to talk like this. Like normal sisters."

Romantic talk, no less.

Such an ordinary conversation would have been impossible for Neti in the past.

After all, until recently, she and her sisters had been livestock, not people.

Mares to be bred by the stallions the Shepherds would eventually bring to them.

There was no room for romance, much less the mundane love they were now free to imagine.

But now....

"A day when I can tease you about your love life with a man. I never thought I’d see it."

"...."

"If this is a dream, I hope I don’t wake up."

The sisters fell silent at her heartfelt words.

Emotion hung heavy in the room.

"Neti..."

Seti began softly, her voice carrying the warmth of an older sister.

But before she could continue, Neti shattered the moment.

"Oh, but no nieces or nephews before graduation, okay? You know that, right?"

"You little—"

Seti felt her budding sympathy vanish in an instant.

She raised her hand again but froze mid-motion.

"Sis?"

Neti tilted her head quizzically at Seti’s rigid expression, but the atmosphere shifted before she could finish her question.

All four sisters felt it simultaneously.

A nauseatingly familiar presence they never thought they’d encounter again after their restraints were lifted.

"Everyone, back! Now—!"

Seti leapt away from her sisters.

They reached out to grab her, but darkness swallowed her before their hands could reach.

The moment Yeomyeong disappeared into the darkness, Sae-mi-ri opened her eyes in the infirmary.

Her beautiful gaze flickered with a faint crimson hue.

"...Comrade Miri? You’re already awake?"

Rime, who had been sitting vigil by her bedside, called out to her, but Sae-mi-ri remained silent.

She stared into the void for a moment before Rime, unable to hold back, clasped her hand tightly.

Perhaps it was a fairy’s intuition, but Rime felt an ominous certainty that Sae-mi-ri would vanish if she let go.

"Why... why are you like this?"

"...Comrade Rime."

"Ever since that dream, you’ve been acting so strange. Whose dream did you link to that night?"

Instead of answering, Sae-mi-ri reached up and stroked Rime’s silvery hair gently. Her voice was soft, like an older sister consoling a child.

"Rime, don’t worry if I’m late. Don’t tell Father, either. Promise me?"

"Comrade, what are you talking about—"

"I’ll be back."

Yeomyeong opened his eyes in the darkness.

As he steadied himself against the wave of dizziness, the stench of the sewers assaulted his nose.

Splash.

Cold, murky water reached up to his calves, sending a shiver through his body.

‘What happened? Where are Corvus and the leather priest?’

Recalling the moments before he lost consciousness, Yeomyeong extended his mana, trying to sense his surroundings.

But all he found was unsettling silence, darkness, and warped mana.

Was he trapped in some kind of magical space?

Even as he assessed his situation, he checked his equipment.

The Tear of the Mountain from Darulma, the hilt of Uragan in his pocket, the Key of Bloody Tears, and the Golden Seal.

It wasn’t a good situation, but at least he had his sword.

He pulled out Uragan’s hilt, planning to use it as a makeshift flashlight. The unicorn horn shimmered brilliantly, casting light across the sewer’s grimy walls.

[Chaste one... no, master. Where are we?]

‘I don’t know.’

[Warped mana, this stench... it’s as revolting as a succubus’s lair.]

Using the unicorn’s voice as background noise, Yeomyeong wandered the sewer. Still, his senses revealed nothing.

‘Should I try breaking through the walls?’

He thrust his sword into a wall, only to see the blade emerge from the opposite side.

Even when he launched himself at the wall, his body simply popped out the other side.

‘It’s definitely magic....’

The warped mana filling the sewer disrupted his spells.

Still, staying in one place wasn’t an option. Pressing a hand against the wall, Yeomyeong began walking aimlessly.

After wandering for some time, he felt a peculiar itch, an inexplicable sensation that made him stop.

‘Do you feel that too?’

[Master, what nonsense? This place reeks, and that’s all I feel.]

Was it just his imagination?

As he turned to move again, a sound pierced the darkness.

Bang!

An unmistakable revolver shot.

Yeomyeong sprinted toward the sound without hesitation.