There Is No World For ■■

As soon as Darulma Dune heard the Blue Rat's leader talk about life’s worth, he instantly regretted sending Commander Kwon on a pointless errand.

“Damn KGB witch. She’s as oblivious and shameless as her homeland.”

The air in the base camp had turned deathly still. Neither Yeomyeong nor the leader of the rats had spoken a word, but even the blind could sense the imminent explosion.

Yeomyeong was already gripping his sword, and the rat leader, hidden behind her transparent cloak, seemed ready to draw her gun at any moment.

“I’m going to die if I get caught in the middle of this.”

Darulma, sensing the danger, started edging toward the back door of the camp. But before he could make his escape, Yeomyeong’s mana surged violently, making the atmosphere crackle. His expression twisted with disgust as he glared at the transparent cloak.

The rat leader stood abruptly in response, ready to match Yeomyeong’s intensity.

Seeing this, Darulma tried to hurl himself toward the back door—but before he could, the Saintess suddenly stepped between them.

“Ugh, enough already!”

As soon as she intervened, the tension melted away like snow under the sun. Yeomyeong sheathed his sword and withdrew his mana, while the rat leader quietly sat back down.

Another brief silence followed.

The Saintess let out a long sigh before dragging a chair between the two and sitting down.

“Mom, you need to apologize,” she said.

“....”

“This time, it’s your fault. And I’m partly to blame too.”

Neither Yeomyeong nor the rat leader spoke. The Saintess, shoulders drooping, turned toward Darulma.

“Darulma? What did you do to make Yeomyeong want to quit the mercenary corps?”

Darulma knew she was trying to deflect, but he had no choice. Navigating tense situations was better than watching two superhumans clash. Forcing a smile, he responded.

“...I, uh, tested him a bit.”

“Tested him? How?”

“Well, his resume was fake, so... I dangled the dragon rib as bait, just a little.”

Darulma did his best to keep his explanation honest. After all, the man holding a sword was right in front of him. He wasn’t in the mood to embellish.

As expected, the Saintess didn’t react favorably.

“The dragon rib? I vouched for that. And you used it as bait?”

Her voice was exaggerated, intentionally so. But the real problem was the mana embedded in it. The reverberation of her voice reminded Darulma that the Saintess was also a superhuman, and he was the only ordinary person in this room.

“To make amends, I prepared a gift. Commander Kwon will be bringing it soon,” he added hastily, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“A gift?” The Saintess sounded indifferent, prompting Darulma to explain further in desperation.

“Yes, a very rare potion! Yeomyeong, I’m sure you’ll be satisfied. It’s a special elixir, procured directly from the fae!”

Of course, he didn’t mention that the gift had originally been meant for the Saintess. But what did it matter? As long as he achieved his goal.

Despite Darulma’s enthusiastic pitch, Yeomyeong’s expression remained cold. His golden eyes flicked over to Darulma briefly but didn’t soften.

“...And you, Mom? Don’t you have something to offer?”

The Saintess, shifting the focus to her mother, fixed a hopeful gaze on the transparent cloak.

“Mom?”

She was expecting her mother, the head of an influential information guild, to offer some valuable gift to appease Yeomyeong.

After a long and silent exchange of looks, Morine finally sighed in resignation.

“I won’t apologize.”

The Saintess opened her mouth to protest, but Morine continued, cutting her off.

“But I will offer compensation.”

Morine reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, red key.

“Mom? Don’t tell me...”

“The life of a mere mercenary is worth at least this much, don’t you think?”

She tossed the key toward Yeomyeong, who silently caught it. Without giving anyone a chance to respond, Morine stood up and left. The sound of her heels echoed toward the back door until it faded away completely.

Realizing her mother was gone, the Saintess turned toward Yeomyeong. She bit her lip before forcing a smile.

“...Sorry.”

“...”

“But that key is really valuable, you know? Have you ever heard of a relic called the ‘Visionary Artifact’?”

The Saintess was out of her element. She wasn’t used to situations like this—particularly speaking with someone around her age.

“The key was found during an exploration near the Chicago dimensional gate...”

She fidgeted with her fingers, trying to explain the value of the key, hoping it might lighten the mood.

Before she could finish, Yeomyeong interrupted.

“...Xing'an Mountains. I’ll go with you.”

“Huh? Seriously?”

“But this will be the only time.”

“Oh, come on! We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already thinking about splitting up?”

The Saintess didn’t know why he had changed his mind, but she didn’t care. Perhaps the relic had caught his attention. Whatever the reason, she smiled, relieved.

Meanwhile, as Darulma sighed in relief and Yeomyeong stared at the key in his hand, the Saintess found herself thinking of her only friend. My friend, who’s still back at the academy... Does she know?

Does she know that there’s now one more person I can’t fully see with my foresight?

She had a feeling that, somehow, her friend was already aware of it.

The value of a dragon’s bones is immeasurable.

While the uneducated mercenaries saw the bones as a mere path to riches, the military had a different perspective. Like mana metal, dragon bones were considered strategic resources.

In battles between superhumans, equipment was just as crucial as martial arts and magic. Unfortunately, South Korea had never managed to obtain even a single piece of equipment made from dragon bones or scales.

By the time South Korea began focusing on superhuman development, the United Nations had already listed dragons as an endangered species.

For a latecomer like Korea, nothing could have been more frustrating.

Protect the talking lizards? It was easy for the developed nations to say—they already had plenty of dragonbone equipment. Meanwhile, what did Korea have? Nothing. Even after training countless mages and superhumans, Korean superhumans could barely get their hands on proper armor made of mana metal.

Meanwhile, Americans strutted around in full suits of dragonbone armor like it was nothing.

So, when a dragon rib was discovered right in front of the North Manju base, it was nothing short of a national celebration.

Finally, South Korea would have legitimate dragonbone equipment.

But the celebration didn’t last long.

Some second-rate mercenary corps had the audacity to claim the dragon bones as their spoils.

The military, of course, didn’t believe them. To be honest, they didn’t care what the mercenary corps said. It was a time of crisis—Manju was burning—and the military had already retrieved the bones. What could a mere mercenary group do?

Ignoring the mercenaries’ claims that they had abandoned the spoils during their retreat, the military shamelessly announced that the bones belonged to them and graciously offered the mercenaries a “share.”

But before the military could fully bask in its triumph, the Saintess arrived.

The Saintess, who had been the first to warn of North Manju’s downfall and played a critical role in averting disaster.

She took the dragon bones from the military, though it would be more accurate to say she “returned” them to their rightful owners. But to the military, it felt like a robbery.

Kim Major, who had been parading himself as the “first discoverer” of the dragon rib in front of reporters, was left humiliated. Even Director Park, who had personally reported the bones to the president, couldn’t hide his devastation.

As much as the military wanted to forcibly take the bones back, they couldn’t. The Saintess was too powerful a figure, worshipped not just on Earth but beyond the dimensional gates as well.

In the end, the military had to swallow its pride and relinquish the bones. But they didn’t do so without making a spectacle. They paraded the bones in front of reporters, military contractors, and even rival mercenary groups, ensuring that everyone knew about the “spoils of war” claimed by Saintess and the Seonjook Mercenary Corps.

It was petty, but effective. Just days later, rumors spread that an unknown superhuman had attacked the Seonjook Mercenary Corps, leaving its members unconscious and their base camp in ruins.

There were also rumors that the Saintess had abandoned her transparent cloak and was hiding inside the mercenary corps’ camp, but few believed that.

Regardless, the attack had set off a chain reaction. Every day, more and more people converged on the Seonjook Mercenary Corps, eager to get their hands on the dragon bones.

The mercenary corps, in turn, locked down its base, refusing all threats and negotiations.

For three days, they held out. Then news came that the situation in North Manju was deteriorating, and word spread that the Seonjook Mercenary Corps was finally mobilizing.

Everyone was baffled. Why would they go to North Manju instead of returning to Seoul with the dragon bones?

With half curiosity and half disbelief, nearly everyone left at the Manju base gathered outside the Seonjook camp.

There were mercenaries after the dragon bones, reporters looking for a scoop, and soldiers hoping to see the corps get what they deserved.

-Why not just guard the bones? Why head to Manju?

-What’s Commander Kwon thinking?

-They must be desperate to avoid rotting away here.

Amid the crowd’s murmurs, the mercenary corps’ gates finally opened.

Commander Kwon and around fifteen mercenaries emerged. Not even enough to fill a single military truck.

But those with keen eyes could tell that almost ten of the mercenaries were superhumans.

-They’re definitely planning something.

-Commander Kwon himself is stepping in?

-Where’s Cheon Yeomyeong?

The camp was abuzz with speculation, but the Seonjook Mercenary Corps ignored the noise. They silently loaded their supplies onto the truck and prepared to head out.

Just as they were about to leave—

Thud!

A man in combat gear dropped down from a nearby building, blocking the truck’s path.

“Where’s Cheon Yeomyeong?!”

He was a short-haired man wielding a military greatsword. A few onlookers recognized him and began whispering.

-Isn’t that Jung Mapil from the Patriot Corps?

-Yeah, the guy who was dishonorably discharged.

-The Patriot Corps is just a mercenary group contracted by the military... This is too obvious.

Some spectators frowned, but most watched the scene unfold with anticipation.

Emboldened by the attention, Jung Mapil brandished his greatsword, shouting again.

“Cheon Yeomyeong! Come out! Everyone here knows you deceived the Saintess and stole the dragon bones from the military!”

His delivery was so stiff and rehearsed that many onlookers chuckled. It was clear what was happening. The military was still trying to make life difficult for the Seonjook Mercenary Corps.

As the crowd waited for the mercenaries’ response, an unexpected figure jumped down from the truck.

“You were looking for me?”

A young man with striking golden eyes and a somewhat handsome face. He could have easily been mistaken for a boy.

There wasn’t much that stood out about him beyond his appearance. He wore standard-issue combat gear, and his only weapon was a mass-produced steel sword.

His presence seemed... ordinary. Hardly the kind of man who had cut down a dragon.

“You’re Cheon Yeomyeong?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You heard what I said?”

Yeomyeong didn’t respond verbally. He simply drew his sword.

Seeing this, Jung Mapil smirked. He had been dreading this task, but it looked like the kid had some backbone after all.

“Guess we’ll settle this the old-fashioned way.”

“Are you sure about that?” Yeomyeong asked calmly.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Confident, Jung Mapil raised his greatsword, preparing for a fight. Reporters lifted their cameras, and the crowd held their breath.

And then, in an instant, a tidal wave of mana surged from Yeomyeong’s blade.