The sound of the stone door closing followed belatedly from behind.
Stone locking into stone,
a sound that made one swallow their breath.
A single light
flickered at the end of the passage.
At first, the gatekeeper was smiling.
“You’ve returned.”
He looked at Rangnan first,
then swept his gaze over Miryeong and Muryeong.
And then—
last of all.
Bido felt that gaze naturally searching for one person.
Beyond Bido’s shoulder.
At the rear of the party.
But no one was there.
Only one person was missing,
yet the entire passage suddenly felt wider.
Because the shadow they had wished would come with them was gone,
it felt as if their eyes had lost the place they were meant to land.
Without realizing it, Bido straightened his shoulders further.
The sensation of the sword against his back grew distinct.
Someone swallowed a breath,
and that swallowed breath pressed down on the air again.
No one said a word,
but the fact that he was “not there” arrived first.
The gatekeeper’s smile stopped right where it was.
His brows lowered ever so slightly.
His lips stiffened.
The members of the Silver Moon Corps standing beside him looked at one another in silence.
No one said the word “failure.”
And yet the word had already fallen into the air before them.
Bido adjusted his grip on the sword strap.
For no reason,
it felt as though his hand had to be holding on to something.
The gatekeeper’s gaze brushed Maho for a moment.
In that brief instant, the current around them changed.
Maho felt it, but he did not smile.
Rangnan let out one long breath.
“I will go to Yun.”
Those words were neither explanation nor excuse.
They were simply a decision.
Rangnan looked back and added,
“I’ll make the report, so all of you rest.”
His voice had grown far lower than before.
Someone approached and spoke.
“I’ll take your luggage.”
“A meal will be prepared soon as well.”
No one said, “It’s all right.”
Even the strength to refuse
was a luxury right now.
The members of the Silver Moon Corps quietly came forward and took their packs and belongings.
It was then.
From the passage came two familiar sets of footsteps, approaching quickly.
“Lady Miryeong.”
“Sir Bido.”
It was Erdin and Mendel.
The two had been wearing happy expressions,
but the moment they read the party’s faces,
those expressions quietly sank.
Erdin spoke first.
“…You’ve been through a lot.”
Mendel did not add any more words.
Instead, he briefly examined Bido’s arm and shoulder.
As if checking whether there was blood on him,
whether he was breathing properly.
That touch was neither overly tender
nor rude, and so Bido felt even more sorry.
When Mendel’s hand fell away,
Bido could not lift his head for a moment.
Bido recalled the gatekeeper’s gaze again.
The place that gaze had been searching for was still empty.
“We came back, but brought nothing with us.”
The thought dissolved bitterly beneath his tongue.
The party walked down the passage.
The passage gradually widened,
and between the rough stone walls came the smell of people living.
Smoke, oil, metal, damp cloth.
The Silver Moon Corps’ stronghold was not simply a hidden underground cavern,
but a place where people lived.
And that living presence felt especially heavy today.
The meal was not lavish.
Warm broth.
Finely shredded meat.
Hard bread and salty cheese.
In front of Bido, a little more meat had been set down instead of bread.
He was grateful for the consideration,
and yet, for some reason, it made him feel even more uneasy.
The meat was tender,
but Bido chewed his first bite for a long time.
Before the flavor could spread in his mouth, he first felt his throat tightening.
He had thought the warm broth might make it better as it passed down,
but instead, it only made everything inside him clearer.
The farther the warmth of the broth descended,
the more it felt as if the things they had failed to bring back were descending with it.
Bido pressed a finger once against the rim of his bowl.
Only today did he learn with certainty that there were days when a meal could offer no comfort.
Miryeong moved her fingers in silence.
There was almost no conversation.
Instead, there was the clatter of utensils,
the sound of breaths being swallowed,
and the sound of words being swallowed.
Once the meal ended, people moved more quickly.
Their belongings had already been sorted,
and each headed to their own room.
The corridor was long and low.
Lights were placed at regular intervals,
so shadows clung to the people’s feet.
Miryeong took the handle first and pushed the door open.
As Bido loosened the luggage strap from his shoulder, he looked back.
Raen was naturally following them inside.
The moment Miryeong crossed the threshold,
she glanced back and said,
“Hey. It’s cramped in here. You go somewhere else.”
Raen answered without a moment’s hesitation.
“No!”
Her voice was so confident
that Bido paused midway through setting down his things.
Raen strode over toward Bido
and said almost like a declaration,
“I’m going to stay with Bido the whole time! Right, Bido?”
For some reason, the back of Bido’s neck prickled,
so he gave an awkward smile and avoided her eyes.
“Uh… well, that…”
Miryeong swept a finger down her forehead once,
then said with an exasperated expression,
“Oh, do whatever you want.”
At the end of those words, Miryeong waved her hand dismissively.
“Whether you two sleep stuck together or not, do as you like.”
Raen’s eyes flashed.
At that moment,
Raen’s thick tail shot up with a whoosh.
“Really?!”
Raen turned to Bido as if she were about to leap into the air and shouted,
“Bido! You heard her, right?”
Bido looked at Miryeong with a displeased expression.
The corners of his mouth were smiling,
but his eyes were not smiling at all.
As soon as Miryeong received that look,
she merely shrugged as if it had nothing to do with her.
“What. What did I do?”
The door closed, and the noise of the corridor grew distant.
Almost at the same time, the door to another room quietly shut.
—
Four people were gathered inside a small room.
Yun spoke first.
“So that is what happened….”
Maho twisted his lips.
“So. This divine power or whatever it is—there’s no way around it?”
“That was an attack I meant to kill him with.”
“Since it was a moonless night, I couldn’t use the blue flame… but I still landed it properly.”
Rangnan slowly shook his head.
“Now that his divine power has awakened, it is true that things have become more difficult.”
“But… if he pushed himself that far,”
“he’ll remain quiet for a while.”
“What is that supposed to—”
Just as Maho tried to press him,
Yun cut him off briefly.
“Maho.”
Yun steadied his breath once and continued.
“There were variables, but we did everything we could.”
“We tracked him, pressured him… and Sir Bido accomplished what he had to do.”
Yun’s gaze shifted to Rangnan.
Rangnan said in a low voice,
“I saw it.”
“Inside Roan.”
Maho answered through clenched teeth.
“Yeah. I saw it too.”
“That black thing… what the hell is it?”
Rangnan’s answer was short.
“Darkness.”
Maho narrowed his eyes.
The moment that single word fell,
it seemed as though the lamp inside the room grew a little darker.
Because it did not sound like an explanation,
but like something that had been given a name.
Muryeong did not blink.
Rather than compose his expression,
Yun made his breathing shallower.
There was more fatigue than certainty in Rangnan’s voice.
The fatigue of someone speaking not a name he knew,
but a name he had no choice but to know.
“Darkness?”
“What is that? Why does Roan have something like that?”
Rangnan hesitated for a moment,
then chose his words.
“The moon’s spiritual power is originally Lord Igra’s power.”
“And Darkness is… something like a will that has existed alongside Lord Igra since the moment he revealed himself to the world.”
“When Roan accepted the moon’s spiritual power, that Darkness took root within him as well.”
An edge entered Maho’s voice.
“You knew that… and you still gave it to Roan?”
Rangnan could not avoid his gaze.
“…I also.”
“I thought that will had disappeared together with Lord Igra.”
Maho ground his teeth.
He was about to say one more thing, but in the end, he swallowed it.
Then Muryeong quietly cut in.
“Rangnan.”
Muryeong’s eyes gleamed faintly.
“Then why did Roan have a dragon weapon?”
Rangnan closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and said,
“Who knows.”
“I don’t know either.”
“The last time I saw Roan… he wasn’t holding anything like that.”
Muryeong spoke first.
“For now, I’ll keep that weapon in my custody.”
Rangnan nodded immediately.
“Do that.”
After answering, Rangnan fell silent for a moment.
His eyes turned toward somewhere far away.
“…I wonder what the Harayas of the south will think.”
“To think there are two dragon weapons here…”
Muryeong did not answer.
With only his head turned slightly, he wore a face lost in thought.
Yun broke the silence as though putting things in order.
“For today, let us all rest.”
“We can sort things out again starting tomorrow.”
At those words, Rangnan exhaled briefly and nodded.
“Yes. That is all for today.”
No one said, “Well done.”
The words “well done” would have become comfort,
and comfort would have turned today’s events into something finished.
Everyone knew it was not over.
Maho rose, closing his mouth as if swallowing his dissatisfaction,
and Rangnan rolled his shoulders once, hiding his fatigue.
Muryeong kept his back straight until the very end,
letting out a short breath where no one could see.
The legs of chairs scraped against the floor,
and brief farewells were exchanged.
Soon, the room was put in order.
When they stepped into the corridor, the lights once again continued at regular intervals.
Each person’s footsteps split apart and scattered.
Inside his own room, Bido listened to that division.
Then he tightened the strap of his sword once more.
The night of the Silver Moon Corps was flowing quietly onward.