Lee Aseok, meanwhile, stared down at the iron rod in his hand.

  No cracks.

  No chips.

  Still sturdy.

  He tilted his head slightly and gave a small nod. His lips twitched, just barely, but it was unmistakable.

  Satisfaction.

  For the first time in his life, no, in two lives, he had fought without struggling.

  Not for survival.

  Not for approval.

  Not even for the world.

  Just because he wanted to.

  And it felt... good and addictive.

  But the moment was cut short by a sudden, oppressive wave of pressure.

  The air turned heavy.

  Like something massive had awakened.

  And then..

  A roar.

  It shattered windows and cracked nearby buildings, echoing across the city like thunder.

  A moment later, something tore through the sky, landing with the force of a missile several blocks away. A shockwave rippled out, collapsing weakened structures and tossing smaller debris like toys.

  Everyone turned to look.

  And what they saw made even the bravest hunters take a step back.

  A creature..a wyvern, but... not.

  Its grey scales shimmered like metal, each one layered like ancient armor. It stood nearly a hundred meters tall, wings stretching across rooftops, claws gouging through buildings with casual movement.

  Its eyes glowed yellow with sentience.

  A conscious predator.

  One that didn’t see them as a threat.

  “Is that... a wyvern?” someone whispered.

  “No,” another hunter replied in horror. “It’s too big. It’s more like a... dragon.”

  Mu Yichen narrowed his eyes. “It’s the final boss of this gate.”

  The roar was unlike anything they had ever heard before.

  It didn’t just echo, it tore through the air like a sonic quake, sending vibrations straight into people’s bones. Glass shattered, birds dropped mid-flight, and the very ground seemed to recoil as if the earth itself feared what had come.

  From above the ruined skyline, a colossal shape descended like a shadow swallowing light.

  A grey wyvern.

  No, something far worse.

  Though it bore the features of a wyvern, its sheer size suggested something closer to a dragon. Its wings, armored and cracked with age, cast a suffocating darkness over several city blocks. Its tail coiled like a whip, demolishing entire buildings with lazy swipes.

  Each step sent spiderweb cracks into the ground, shaking loose debris that had managed to survive the earlier battle.

  The creature didn’t roar again.

  It didn’t need to.

  Its presence alone screamed louder than any voice.

  People froze, hunters included.

  It wasn’t fear that kept them still.

  It was terrifying.

  One hunter, a B-rank with six years of experience, dropped his weapon without realizing it. “We’re… we’re going to die.”

  Someone else whispered, “It’s the final boss. It's like a A-rank dungeon’s final boss.”

  No one could move.

  No one screamed.

  They didn’t even run.

  Because they knew, running wouldn’t matter.

  A monster like that didn’t just kill.

  It eradicated.

  And under normal circumstances, everyone would’ve turned to look for salvation.

  They would have searched for Mu Yichen, the noble person.

  Or Seo MinHyun, the flashiest genius of the new generation.

  Or Park Taegun, the calm and deadly tactician.

  They would’ve looked for them.

  But today…

  Every eye turned elsewhere.

  To the white figure standing alone in the middle of the broken road.

  He stood so still, it was as if he had been there since the beginning of time.

  The grey wyvern turned its head slowly, nostrils flaring as it sniffed the air.

  Then its gaze locked onto Lee Aseok.

  Not the holy sword.

  Not the crowd.

  Just him.

  And in that moment, everyone understood something without words:

  It saw him as the real threat.

  Lee Aseok didn’t move.

  He simply looked up at the towering beast, his iron rod still casually resting at his side.

  White robes rippling gently in the wind, black hair trailing behind like silk, and blood, faint, dried, smeared near the heart. In his hand was no grand weapon, no gleaming artifact.

  Just a rusted, worn iron rod.

  Lee Aseok didn’t blink.

  Didn’t flinch.

  Didn’t even seem to acknowledge the monster roaring at him from across the ruins.

  But then, he moved.

  It wasn’t fast, not like earlier.

  This time, everyone saw it.

  He simply lifted his hand, the one holding the rod.

  Raised it slightly.

  And then, with a flick of the wrist, like one would swat a fly, he swung.

  A flash.

  Bright and brief.

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  Like a crack of lightning in daylight.

  And before anyone could react, the impossible happened.

  The mountain-sized wyvern, so mighty, so terrifying, stopped.

  Its body froze mid-motion, eyes still glowing with bloodlust.

  Then its head tilted.

  Once.

  Twice.

  And fell.

  The sound of it crashing into the buildings was thunderous. Dust shot skyward. Debris flew for blocks. The corpse twitched once before collapsing like a deflated balloon, shaking the entire sector.

  Silence followed.

  A terrifying, sacred silence.

  Even the wind held its breath.

  No one cheered.

  No one spoke.

  Because they hadn’t seen what had happened.

  One second, there was a Big Monster.

  The next, there wasn’t.

  And the one who killed it didn’t even seem impressed.

  Lee Aseok stood exactly where he had been, staring down at his rod.

  His expression didn’t change, not even slightly. His inhuman eyes, still swirling with faint color, blinked once.

  And that was it.

  For a long time, no one spoke.

  Not the civilians huddled behind broken concrete.

  Not the hunters standing motionless beside shattered buildings.

  Not even the three most talented among them, Mu Yichen, Seo MinHyun, and Park Taegun, who, for once, had nothing clever, noble, or tactical to say.

  Because in the middle of the ruin stood something that didn’t belong in this world.

  Not a monster.

  Not a demon.

  A boy.

  Lee Aseok.

  His figure in white robes stood where the wyvern had fallen, still and aloof, like he hadn't just decapitated a hundred-meter death machine.

  His long black hair swayed gently with the wind, and his grip on the rusted iron rod remained light. Casual. Disinterested.

  His eyes, unreadable. A strange hue swirled within them, somewhere between purple, blue, and silver. Ethereal and cold.

  The kind of gaze one would expect from a god sculpted from winter, not a 19-year-old who used to fall asleep during strategy briefings with chip crumbs on his face.

  The crowd remained quiet.

  But MinHyun, naturally, broke the silence.

  “No, hold on,” he muttered, rubbing his temple, “I’ve gone insane, haven’t I? This is madness. This is a delusion.”

  Taegun said nothing.

  Mu Yichen didn’t even blink.

  “Tell me someone else saw that,” MinHyun continued, his voice high and borderline panicked. “He raised a rusted iron pipe, a pipe, Taegun, and the boss monster’s head fell off. Do you know what kind of physics-defying sorcery that takes? That wyvern had scales like steel!”

  Still, no answer.

  Park Taegun didn’t answer.

  Mu Yichen remained frozen, face pale.

  Taegun was staring straight ahead, brows slightly drawn.

  Yichen’s hands were faintly trembling.

  MinHyun took one step back. “Wait. Are we... Are we the only ones who thought Lee Aseok was just a quiet weirdo?”

  No answer.

  Mu Yichen finally spoke.

  “…We don’t know anything about him.”

  It was a whisper, but it hit Seo MinHyun like a slap.

  Park Taegun added, voice flat, “He’s not normal.”

  “Really? You think?” MinHyun exploded. “I knew he was weird! I said it from the start! But weird doesn’t mean apocalypse-level danger! Did we accidentally recruit a secret boss into our team?!”

  No one could deny it.

  Because it was true.

  Until today, Lee Aseok had been a mystery they didn’t bother solving. Just a quiet background figure. Strange, aloof, someone they thought they could eventually figure out.

  But now,

  They realized they didn’t know him at all.

  Didn’t know what he could do.

  Didn’t know where his power came from.

  Didn’t know what he was thinking behind those lifeless eyes.

  And for the first time, even Seo MinHyun felt a chill crawl down his spine.

  Because if someone could do that and show no reaction..

  What else was he hiding?

  Aseok, unaware, or simply uncaring, of the chaos behind him, lowered the rod again.

  The metal was undamaged.

  He tilted his head.

  “…Good weapon.”

  He gave the rod a small pat, then turned his back on the crowd.

  Not once did he check to see the wyvern was dead.

  Not once did he try to explain himself.

  And not once did he speak again.

  Because for Lee Aseok, this wasn’t something worth talking about.

  It was just another fight.

  Just another step.

  But for everyone else, It was the day they saw what a true hero looked like.

  And wondered if maybe..

  He wasn’t one at all.

  MinHyun turned, desperate. “Say something!”

  “…I don’t know him,” Park Taegun finally said.

  Three simple words, but for a man like him, that meant more than panic.

  He was a soldier. A strategist. A master of psychological profiling.

  And yet,

  He had no idea who Lee Aseok truly was.

  Mu Yichen flinched slightly.

  He recalled everything he knew about Aseok.

  The lazy eyes.

  They slouched back.

  The hoodie he never took off.

  The anime background music blaring from his earbuds at all hours.

  That Lee Aseok… was a joke.

  A quiet, distant, uncaring figure who seemed allergic to effort and interpersonal contact.

  But this Aseok..

  The one who stood with a slayer’s poise in the middle of a smoking battlefield, his face expressionless, his aura glinting with a power even the strongest couldn’t measure…

  This wasn’t the same person.

  Yichen pressed a hand to his chest.

  His heart was pounding so violently, it hurt.

  Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

  He could barely breathe.

  He told himself it was a shock. That anyone would feel this way watching something so impossible. So awe-inspiring.

  But then why, why did it feel like his ribs were trying to contain not just fear, but relief?

  And sorrow?

  And…

  Something he couldn’t name.

  His gaze never left Aseok.

  The white robes stained at the hem with monster blood.

  The rod is still faintly humming with unknown energy.

  The eyes, those chilling, breathtaking eyes, that looked at the world like it was beneath notice.

  This Aseok looked like the person the Holy Sword should’ve chosen.

  Not the slouching boy from before.

  Not the one who jumped off the building to die, without caring about his life.

  No, this version was the one the world had been waiting for.

  But Mu Yichen’s stomach twisted.

  Because as much as he knew this Lee Aseok fit the prophecy… he also knew something else.

  This wasn’t right.

  It didn’t feel right.

  It was like watching someone wear a mask sculpted to perfection, except underneath… something fragile was screaming.

  He didn’t understand it.

  He didn’t know why he was reacting this way.

  But one thing echoed in his bones, pulsing harder than the racing beat in his chest:

  He couldn’t give up Lee Aseok.

  Not like this.

  Not to the world. Not to fate. Not even to power itself.

  Mu Yichen’s eyes darkened.

  Focused.

  Resolved.

  He would not lose this person.

  No matter how far he changed.

  No matter what he was hiding.

  Seo MinHyun, meanwhile, had fully spiraled.

  He dropped to a crouch beside a broken street lamp and began whispering to himself.

  “I mean, it’s fine. It’s fine. You know what, MinHyun? You’re still number one in charm rankings. You’re still the face of three energy drink commercials. You’re still the fastest lightning-user under 25. So what if Lee Aseok is apparently a walking magnet now? It’s fine. We adapt. We’re flexible.”

  Park Taegun glanced at him, mildly.

  “You’re shaking.”

  “It’s the wind.”

  “There is no wind.”

  “It’s an emotional wind,” MinHyun snapped. “I’m experiencing a spiritual earthquake, okay?”

  Taegun sighed and turned back to Aseok, who had begun walking toward them.

  Each step was quiet. Almost gentle.

  But it sent goosebumps down their spines.

  The civilians parted instinctively, forming a wide circle without realizing it.

  Lee Aseok walked through them like a phantom.

  Untouched. Unbothered.

  His eyes didn’t even flicker toward the frightened survivors.

  And yet, no one questioned his authority.

  No one dared.

  Mu Yichen pressed a palm against his chest.

  His heart was still hammering.

  It wasn’t the aftermath of battle, he’d seen far worse. He’d faced monsters with fangs that cracked mountains, demons with auras that choked out breath.

  But never had he felt this kind of ache.

  Not fear.

  Not awe.

  Something more unsettling, something personal.

  Yichen knew he should’ve been relieved.

  This..this was what the world needed. A savior. A champion.

  And part of him had always believed the Holy Sword didn’t choose wrong when it picked Aseok.

  But now,

  This version of Aseok…

  Long hair brushing his shoulders. Expression cold and absent. Power radiating off him like a storm sealed in flesh.

  He felt like something reborn.

  Something unreachable.

  Mu Yichen didn’t know whether to be proud, or terrified.

  A dull throb settled behind his ribs.

  Sadness. Relief. Longing. Pain.

  He didn’t know what this mess of emotion was.

  He only knew one thing with certainty:

  He wasn’t going to give up Lee Aseok.

  No matter what he was hiding.

  His gaze, sharp and steady, followed the boy as he turned away from the crowd without a word.

  Lee Aseok didn’t pause for applause.

  Didn’t acknowledge the stares.

  Didn’t react when someone tried to step forward and speak to him, only to shrink back under his emotionless gaze.

  He walked straight past the ruins, the blood, and the awe-struck hunters like none of it mattered.

  The rusted iron rod was still in his hand.

  It dripped faintly with monster blood.

  Nobody dared to ask why he didn’t use a sword.

  Nobody dared to ask anything.

  Because even in silence, Lee Aseok made it very clear..

  He didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

  Park Taegun followed him at a distance, his arms crossed. His mind was running through scenarios, trying to make sense of the timeline, the footage, the sheer impossibility of what just happened.

  His instincts told him one thing: Lee Aseok was more dangerous than they ever realized.

  But not in a reckless way.

  In a calculated, surgical way.

  Taegun didn’t like not knowing.

  But he wasn’t reckless either. He said nothing and walked in silence.

  Meanwhile, Seo MinHyun was still recovering from his spiritual meltdown.

  He marched behind the others with the energy of a man betrayed by the universe itself.

  “I mean, I get it, sure,” he muttered. “Let the silent anime gremlin become a living weapon. Who doesn’t love that trope? But do you know what I’ve got? Lightning! Flashy! Dramatic!

  No one responded.

  MinHyun glared at the back of Park Taegun’s head.

  “Oh, don’t give me that soldier's silence, Mr. Precision. You were just as freaked out as I was.”

  “I wasn’t,” Taegun replied coolly.

  “You flinched.”

  “I blinked.”

  “You flinched. I have a video.”

  “I always blink.”

  Mu Yichen ignored both of them, his eyes never leaving Aseok’s back as the boy crossed the ruined street toward their parked car.

  Strangely, the vehicle remained untouched amidst the destruction. Not even a scratch.

  It sat there, pristine and out of place, like it didn’t belong in a war zone but rather a quiet city drive.

  Aseok walked to it with the same dull expression he always wore, as if this were just another Tuesday. He paused just before the door, hand on the handle.

  Then his gaze lowered.

  Inside the car, curled up in the passenger seat, was a small, trembling puppy.

  It was dirty. Its fur was matted with soot and ash. It was so thin, you could count its ribs.

  But its eyes were wide.

  Innocent.

  Trusting.

  It wagged its tail the moment it saw him.

  Aseok blinked.

  A long pause.

  He recognized it, it was the stray Nam Jiwon had pulled out from under the bakery earlier.

  It must’ve set it in the building for safety and forgotten it in the chaos. Somehow, it had crawled into the car through the open door.

  Now, it looked up at him like he was something holy.

  Like it had waited for him.

  Aseok stared at the creature.

  His expression didn’t change much, but..

  His eyes softened.

  Just slightly.

  The kind of softness that was almost imperceptible, like the way light changes right before dawn.

  He didn’t speak.

  Didn’t reach for it.

  Just… stared.

  The rod lowered a bit in his hand.

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