Chapter 810

Perhaps intuition was another name for wisdom.

The feeling of an instinct etched into every cell suddenly waking. Of countless thoughts tangled in your head coming together as one.

“Michael Silbert. Michael Silbert. Michael…”

The name should have stayed in Jin Taekyung’s mind. Instead, it slipped from his lips without him noticing.

A question filled his mind in an instant. New thoughts followed, one after another. Each time a question came back to him with an answer, he sent it out again carrying another question.

And each time, the same words came first.

What if. Suppose. Maybe…

He questioned and questioned without pause, until the thoughts tangling in his head took on something like a coherent shape.

He had no idea how much time passed.

And…

He was so deeply absorbed that he didn’t notice someone’s footsteps—whose, he couldn’t tell—drawing close.

Crunch.

Sand shifted underfoot. Jin’s senses snapped awake.

The hairs on his body stood on end, and instinct moved him before his brain could give the order.

Whoosh.

He spun, slashing downward with his spear.

He’d made that move thousands—tens of thousands—of times in training and combat. It was etched into him, terrifyingly fast and precise. Fast enough to make the intruder in the darkness think of death.

But the intruder was no pushover.

Vwooom.

A flash of light accompanied an invisible ripple of qi. The space around them brightened, and Jin’s eyes widened as he recognized who stood before him.

“……!”

Recognition brought control. His strike, hurtling forward with tremendous speed and force, stopped as if someone had pressed pause.

The spearhead halted a hair’s breadth from a faintly glowing, translucent barrier. A fierce gust swept through.

Fwoooosh!

Sand that had somehow escaped the blood flew into the air. The intruder spat some of it out of his mouth.

“Do me a favor. If you’re going to kill me, tell me first. Give me a little time to prepare.”

Jin lowered his spear and hurriedly asked, “Damn it. I’m sorry, Johnson. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“……As you can see.”

Magic Johnson dispelled his defensive spell. He barely managed to get the words out. In those few moments, cold sweat had gathered on the back of his neck, glistening in the faint moonlight.

“I’m fine. Though I might’ve had a little accident.”

“What?”

“Before you get the wrong idea, everything about me is big. Just this once, it was only a little.”

Jin let out a relieved breath at the joke.

That had been truly dangerous. If he hadn’t stopped the spearhead at the last moment, there would definitely have been blood.

“I’m sorry again.”

“I said it’s fine. More importantly, Jin, what the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

“Why you mistook a wonderful friend and comrade-in-arms like me for an enemy. What were you thinking about just now?”

“Ah, well…”

Jin started to answer, then suddenly shut his mouth.

Johnson studied him for a moment and shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me. If our young boss can’t talk about it, I’m sure he has his reasons. But there’s one thing I do have to say.”

“If there’s something you have to say…”

“We finished regrouping nearly thirty minutes ago. Whatever’s troubling you, if we delay the pursuit any longer, we’ll lose them for good. That’s why I came.”

What? Already?

Only then did Jin belatedly check the time and bite his lip. Everything Magic Johnson had said was true.

When did that much time pass?

It felt like less than a minute had passed since Choi Minwoo stopped by, but the sky had grown darker in the meantime.

I must’ve had a lot on my mind.

No-self wasn’t a state that belonged only to martial arts. Jin had been so absorbed in one question after another that he hadn’t noticed time passing. Johnson had no way of guessing why he’d stayed rooted to the spot.

“I know their deaths are weighing on you. That’s why I gave you a little time. But Jin, if we lose them now or fail to find The Prophet… remember, the sacrifices made up to this point will have been for nothing.”

Pat, pat.

Magic Johnson patted Jin on the shoulder with his large hand, then turned away after leaving him with one last remark.

“Everyone’s waiting. We need you, Boss.”

That was all.

Jin watched the Grand Mage’s back slowly recede and wondered how much truth was in the questions he’d come up with. What, exactly, was a lie, and what was the truth?

He steadied his breathing.

“No. Either way, there’s only one path.”

He’d barely managed to grasp a single clue. With no other choice, there was no point in thinking it over any longer.

Jin took a heavy step into the darkness surrounding them.

The desert night was cold, dark, and vast.

No one complained. They walked in silence.

One hundred and eighty-five.

We’d fought shoulder to shoulder with them, even if only for a short time, and lost them. Some had been strangers; others must have been close. We’d buried their bodies in the dunes, then had to leave them behind.

In place of gravestones worthy of heroes, we planted their bloodied weapons in the sand. We swore we would return to these coordinates and bring them home to their families.

That promise was why the survivors kept moving. I led the way.

Whooooosh!

Countless figures sped across the desert.

Sand carried on the wind stung my face. But sand wasn’t all the wind carried.

The stench of blood. And a foul odor.

The smell was sickening, but familiar. Sticky liquid coated the plants and rocks we passed.

Blue-green blood. Monster blood.

Where are you?

I spread the energy coiled inside me over a wide area. At the same time, I sensed faint breaths and the traces of an unpleasant magical power.

“Shen.”

I stopped. Xiao Shen understood at once, drew his sword in a flash, and drove it deep into the ground beneath his feet.

Squish!

Blood spurted from the sand as it suddenly caved in. At the same time, the ground all around us rippled like waves.

Shhhhh!

Monsters appeared for an instant amid the flying sand. An urgent shout rang through the night.

“Ant Lion!”

Colloquially known as the antlion.

Even the smallest specimen was about the size of a midsize car, and these powerful monsters were classified as at least Grade B.

But the one that had just appeared had larger pincers and more powerful mana than any Ant Lion I’d ever seen.

It’s one of the ones that fled the battle earlier.

It was one of more than a hundred Grade A monsters that had saved their lives by retreating from the battlefield.

I moved as soon as I realized it.

Tap.

The twenty meters¹ between us vanished. As the Ant Lion lunged to swallow the nearest Hunters, I brought my spear down.

Shhk!

One strike. Both pincers, harder than steel, sliced off like tofu.

Before its anguished scream could even ring out, I twisted the spear shaft in midair and slammed it into the monster’s body.

Crack!

Blood sprayed out with a nauseating stench. The blow wasn’t enough to kill it.

I pressed the spearhead against the spot I guessed was between its eyes and moved my lips.

The language of monsters.

“A few questions. Think carefully before you answer.”

“……!”

Scholars who studied the Demon Realm language existed. Humans who could speak it fluently were rarer than Named Monsters.

The Ant Lion’s eyes, clouded with pain, flew open. It clearly hadn’t expected this.

“You. Human. How?”

I tightened my grip on White Flame instead of answering.

Shhk.

As the keen spearhead cut smoothly through skin as hard as armor, a panicked voice burst out.

“I answer! Anything! Ask!”

Judging from its clumsy Demon Realm language, it wasn’t very intelligent—but it was quick to catch on. I stopped the spearhead.

“Where are the others?”

“Gone. All. Sun falls that way.”

“West?”

“Yes! There. Many!”

I had no reason to doubt it. The Ant Lion was stupid enough that everything it said rang true.

West.

Some must have fallen behind or scattered along the way, but most of the monsters that had left the battlefield had undoubtedly headed west.

What I really wanted to know was something else.

“Then what about The Prophet?”

“The Prophet?”

“Yes. The Prophet.”

The Ant Lion blinked its round eyes.

“What is that? I don’t know.”

I clicked my tongue as I realized my mistake. The Prophet had revealed that name to the world himself. Unless the monster army had gathered somewhere in the desert to watch TV, this creature wouldn’t know it.

“Let me rephrase. Not The Prophet. Your leader—the commander leading you and the other monsters.”

“Commander? Leader? Leads us?”

It repeated my words haltingly, then looked up at me with fear and confusion in its eyes.

“Dead. You. You all killed them.”

“What?”

“One. Two. Three. Four. All dead. Me, everyone, scared. So ran.”

I looked into its eyes and confirmed once more that it wasn’t lying.

“Right. I see.”

“Me, me, believe! Didn’t lie!”

“I know.”

I pushed the spearhead deep between the Ant Lion’s eyes and added calmly, “I know how many people died because of you, too.”

Crunch. Gurgle.

The monster’s enormous body shuddered as blood bubbled from it.

A System notification announced another death. I shook the blood and bodily fluids from my spear.

Johnson came over once he saw the interrogation was finished. “What did it say?”

I answered in a dry voice. “No luck. It didn’t even know The Prophet existed.”

“……Damn it. Well, it’d be strange for a Grade A monster—not even Grade S—to know all that. Did you find out where the ones that ran off are headed?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

I stared at Magic Johnson without answering. Then I replied as if it were nothing.

“East.”

Over his shoulder, the Skeleton King stared at me, eyes wide.