“Roan, I’ll protect you.”
‘Seonhwa’ was right before his eyes.
Her coarse black hair scattered in the wind.
An ordinary Haraya girl, the kind one could see anywhere.
That ordinariness—
made it hurt Roan all the more.
He had tried to save her.
But he had failed.
Hesitation.
That single beat always caught Roan by the ankle.
Seonhwa appeared again.
Behind her.
An arrow pierced her chest,
and the moment her body pitched forward.
“Seonhwa—!”
The instant Roan reached out,
space tore apart.
Roan opened his eyes.
Inside some unknown cave.
A damp smell.
The coldness of the stone floor.
His entire body ached,
and his head felt as if it would split open.
Roan swallowed a breath and looked at his hand.
A burn scar ran across his palm.
The memory of that day clung to him, unchanged.
I tried to abandon Seonhwa again.
Because I was tired.
Because my heart was weak.
Roan clenched his fist.
His fingertips trembled.
‘There won’t be a next time.’
He had to move forward without hesitation.
Faster.
Deeper.
If he stopped—
he would lose another chance.
A faint violet hue spread through Roan’s eyes.
—
By the time Bido and Miryeong arrived before the gates of Arku, the sun had already set.
Torches swayed atop the gate,
and the guards below took turns sweeping their eyes over the surroundings.
The two of them held their breath within the shadow of the wall.
Miryeong spoke quietly to Bido.
“You see the guards in front of the gate? It’ll be hard to just walk past them.”
Bido looked at the white hair poking out from beneath Miryeong’s hood
and whispered cautiously.
“What should we do… Can’t we sneak in?”
Miryeong closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them as she thought.
Just then, raindrops began to fall one by one.
Thick drops immediately drummed against the ground,
and before long the rain came pouring down with a rush.
Miryeong looked up at the rain once.
“It’ll erase our tracks, at least.”
She pressed Bido’s hood down again and said,
“Good. Follow me. There’s a way.”
Bido followed behind Miryeong.
The harsh raindrops gradually swallowed the two people’s footprints and shadows.
Miryeong moved along the wall with her back to the gate.
Bido followed close behind her.
Rainwater ran down the city wall, soaking the stones black,
and the soil beneath their feet had already turned muddy.
Each time the torchlight grew distant,
the two people’s shadows vanished along with it.
After they had circled around beside the wall for quite some time, the sound of water came from a low place.
It was a drainage channel where rainwater gathered.
A small opening.
A grate like iron bars blocked it,
and water steadily flowed out beyond it.
It was not large enough for a person to enter standing up.
One would barely be able to pass by lowering oneself and crawling,
and even that seemed possible only for someone of small build.
Miryeong gestured to Bido.
“Step back a little.”
The moment Bido took a step back,
Miryeong steadied her breathing and briefly closed her eyes.
And when she opened them—
a thin crimson light burned in her pupils.
Miryeong raised the edge of her hand
and swung it very briefly toward the fixed part of the iron bars.
Whish—
There was barely even a sound.
The wind passed as thin as a “blade,” cutting through the fastening pin that held the iron in place.
The bars shook.
Miryeong immediately reached out and caught the grate before it could fall.
The clatter—
that almost burst out
was swallowed by the sound of the rain.
Miryeong said quietly,
“Now. Let’s go.”
Without hesitation, she pushed herself into the gap where the water flowed.
Placing her palms against the wet stone, she twisted her shoulders and crawled in.
Bido looked once into the drainage channel.
It was dark, damp, and the stench clung thickly.
Even during that brief hesitation, the rain continued to pour.
The two of them crawled through the drainage channel for a while, keeping their bodies low.
The wet stone was slippery,
and the fishy stench scraped at their throats.
Bido gritted his teeth and followed behind Miryeong.
The passage suddenly widened.
The sewer beneath the city.
A low ceiling and wet walls,
with refuse floating atop the shallow water.
There was no light.
Complete darkness.
Miryeong took a breath and forcibly heightened her senses.
Small sounds sprang out from within the dark.
The sounds of rats and claws,
and a “plop” from somewhere scraped at the darkness.
Miryeong pushed those sounds aside one by one and moved forward.
But the smell was the problem.
The stench of sewage and rot rushed over them all at once.
“Ugh….”
Miryeong grimaced.
Then she moved with her mouth shut, trying not to breathe too deeply.
Bido’s face twisted as well.
For an instant, the stench was so foul it nearly brought tears to his eyes.
But he gritted his teeth and endured it.
Bido grabbed Miryeong’s shoulder.
It was so he would not lose her.
Whenever Miryeong’s steps lagged by a beat in the darkness, Bido tightened his grip.
As they continued a little farther like that,
the path split.
Miryeong stopped.
In the darkness, her head shifted ever so slightly.
“It’s a fork….”
Miryeong said quietly.
“Left. Right.”
Bido looked at the two branches of darkness.
He could see nothing.
The smell was similar, and the sounds were similar too.
And yet—
inside Bido,
in a very strange way, a “direction” took hold.
An inexplicable certainty.
As if it were a path he had known since childhood.
“The left.”
The words came out first.
Miryeong glanced back at Bido.
Because it was dark, he could not see her expression clearly,
but he sensed her breath catch.
“…All right.”
Miryeong answered shortly.
“Let’s go.”
She turned to the left.
And the sound of water changed slightly.
The dampness of the wall touched the back of their hands more heavily.
Bido followed Miryeong through the darkness.
The two of them walked deeper in.
They turned left,
and after turning once more, the waterway grew a little shallower.
The ceiling felt higher, and the smell of the air changed ever so slightly.
Amid the stench of rot, the scent of wet earth mingled in.
And then—
A faint light lay fallen on the floor.
There was a grate somewhere above.
The sound of rain striking iron came from directly overhead.
Amid that sound,
a dim sky-colored light seeped thinly in, wavering atop the water.
It was too weak to be moonlight,
a pale light as if the color of the night sky itself had soaked through.
Miryeong steadied her breathing and said quietly,
“This place… is open above.”
Bido felt briefly relieved just by the appearance of light.
Miryeong stopped and felt along the wall.
Between the wet stones, she touched something wooden.
It was a ladder made for climbing up and down.
“Here.”
Miryeong said quietly.
“I’ll… go up first.”
Bido climbed the ladder first.
Pale sky-colored light leaked through the gaps in the grate above.
Bido reached out and lifted the grate very slowly.
The rusted iron held on as if it might tremble,
but the faint scraping sound was buried by the rain.
Above was a secluded alley.
A wall down which water ran,
closed windows, and empty wheel ruts.
Bido held his breath and checked the surroundings once more,
then lowered his hand below.
“Lady Miryeong….”
Miryeong silently took his hand.
The two of them pulled themselves up onto the wet ground,
and Bido put the grate back in place.
Miryeong shook out her soaked cloak once
and turned toward the inner part of the alley.
“This way.”
Bido nodded and followed.
There was no hesitation in Miryeong’s movements.
As if this was not her first time on this path.
Several storehouses stood in a row.
On the rear walls, wet planks and ropes hung down,
and sacks soaked with rain were piled up.
Miryeong stopped behind one storehouse.
Beneath the eaves, in a low spot the rain did not directly reach.
It was a gap between bricks that no one would normally pay any attention to.
There, a small knot was hanging.
A crescent-moon shape, tied very neatly.
Miryeong’s eyes hardened.
“…A crescent knot.”
Bido swallowed his breath.
The mark of the Silver Moon Corps.
It meant “here,”
but at times it also meant “stop here.”
Miryeong examined the wall beneath the knot once more.
On the rain-wet surface of the stone,
there was a mark as if drawn by the tip of a blade.
At a glance, it was merely a scratch.
But Miryeong recognized the mark at once.
A very simple form.
A cipher of the Silver Moon Corps, made so that even those who could not read could understand it.
Miryeong murmured quietly,
“…Discovered.”
Bido’s heart sank.
“If it says discovered….”
Bido asked carefully.
“Does that mean they were captured? Or… that they hid?”
Miryeong did not answer.
Instead, she swept her eyes over the surroundings.
The smells were tangled because of the rain.
Even so—
the ground did not lie.
Marks dragged through the mud.
Traces of footprints hurriedly entangling, then being arranged in one direction.
Miryeong gritted her teeth.
“…They didn’t hide.”
The moment those words fell, Bido knew as well.
Miryeong covered the knot with her palm.
Then, very quickly, she untied it and hid it inside her clothes.
“Bido.”
Miryeong said quietly.
“We can’t stay here long.”
Bido was still staring at the mark on the wall.
Discovered.
That word repeated in his mind in the exact same shape.
Then—
from the end of the alley came the sound of someone stepping through water.
Miryeong’s eyes turned that way.
“…Someone’s coming.”
Bido swallowed his breath.
Miryeong seized Bido by the wrist and pulled him along.
Like that, the two of them quietly hid themselves in the rain-soaked shadows.
Footsteps drew closer from the end of the alley.
It was not the sound of metal striking metal.
It was the sound of someone in a hurry, stepping on the wet ground.
Miryeong gripped Bido’s wrist even tighter.
Bido swallowed his breath.
Within the rain-pouring darkness,
someone was approaching.