HPV 97

It wasn’t a fake. It was truly Yurichen.

He leaned in close to examine me, who was still bound… but his eyes weren’t focused.

‘What’s wrong with his eyes…?’

He wasn’t wearing a veil or glasses. Where his brilliant golden eyes should have been, there was only a dark, tangled mess, as if his eyeballs had been stabbed repeatedly. It was so blackened, the whites and irises were indistinguishable.

“Can’t you see?”

My voice came out rough, harsh to even my own ears, but that didn’t matter.

Yurichen didn’t respond. Instead, he reached out uncertainly to feel my face—his touch unmistakably that of a blind man. Even when bringing the mouth of the waterskin to my lips, he fumbled a little.

That golden gaze, once called the eyes blessed by the gods, had ended up like this. It could only be described as divine punishment.

Why on earth would Yurichen have been punished by Gaoih?

Was it because of me? Could it be that his appearance at the temple came at the cost of some sacrifice?

I tried to speak again, but a searing pain tore through my insides, forcing a cry from my lips.

Yurichen quickly pressed his palm to my abdomen. His lips grew tense, as if gauging my condition.

“It seems the spirit’s power has been tainted. No doubt the High Priest’s doing.”

He gently channeled his divine power into me. Even in the midst of agony, I felt a sense of relief—it meant he hadn’t lost his powers too.

It was like drinking a cool, refreshing sip of water. Even more revitalizing than the water he’d given me earlier. The feverish pounding in my chest slowly began to ease.

But that fleeting comfort couldn’t outweigh the guilt gnawing at me—that because of my weakness, the high priest of the hero’s party had suffered divine punishment.

“Was it because of me?”

Yurichen was silent for a moment, then shook his head with his eyes closed, preventing me from seeing them.

“It’s only temporary. Worry about yourself, not me.”

I lowered my gaze. I begged the broken priest for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He smiled faintly with his eyes closed. It looked like he might shatter at any moment, and yet he was so gentle.

“I haven’t lost anything.”

He withdrew his healing hand, then reached out and touched the shackles and restraints binding me, as if it meant nothing.

“I know that I’m alive today and tomorrow thanks to you.”

I hadn’t expected him to bring up the subjugation of the black dragon. I stiffened, then hesitantly opened my mouth.

“That was… I did that on my own, for myself.”

“It doesn’t matter if that wasn’t your intention. That doesn’t take away your holiness.”

A heavy silence filled my chest. I bit down on my lips.

Then, all at once, a sense of danger surged up again. I’d been momentarily distracted by the priest’s presence.

“Hancanera is…”

Yurichen shouldn’t be here alone. Hancanera, who uses corrupted spirit magic, is no different from a mage who wields lethal spells. And Yurichen couldn’t even see.

“I can’t unlock the cuffs. I don’t have the key.”

The priest showed his empty hands with a guilty look. His straight, unbending fingers didn’t seem capable of handling even a dagger properly.

“Are my cuffs what matter right now?”

“They are.”

If the priest was left to wander alone, it meant only hastily assembled troops were nearby. No way would the holy knights leave a blind priest alone. Which meant the situation was dire.

Yurichen hurriedly removed a necklace that looked like a one-of-a-kind holy relic. When he couldn’t undo the clasp by touch, he bit through it with his teeth.

“Excuse me.”

He didn’t place it around my neck but slipped it beneath my left arm, between my shoulder and chest, tying it under my armpit—probably to keep it hidden from Hancanera.

“I’ll send someone to get you. Please wait a little longer. He won’t return here again.”

An ominous feeling crept in—that I might never see Yurichen again. I suddenly looked up.

“Your Eminence…!”

In that instant, something brushed against my forehead. Smooth, flawless lips left a cool imprint on my skin.

I gasped—and held my breath.

It was a blessing from a priest. But for that arrogant high priest to give a blessing by kissing someone on the forehead—now that was unexpected.

“Your body is at its limit. From now on, you must not move. Go to sleep. We’ll take care of everything.”

Whatever ability the high priest had used, his voice grew faint and my vision began to blur.

When I opened my eyes again, it was dead silent around me.

For the temple to be this quiet… The wave of unease that hit me made me feel like throwing up.

Was everyone wiped out…? Or did we win?

If we’d won, they wouldn’t have left me here alone.

I tried moving my arm, stiff and numb with no feeling. At that moment, the cuffs that had clamped so tightly around my wrists fell off with a hollow clang.

“……!”

As soon as both arms were freed, I toppled forward. Thankfully, I caught myself with my chest—any lower and I might’ve shattered my jaw.

“Haah….”

I couldn’t breathe for a second from the impact. I swallowed down the pain that felt like a cracked rib and scrambled upright.

Limping, I tried to leave the underground space. I was sick of how familiar this building’s layout had become.

Someone appeared at the far end of the corridor.

“……”

The moment I saw Hancanera, completely unharmed, I felt as if iron shackles were clamped around my ankles.

I turned and fled. But I didn’t get far—he grabbed me by the hair. Thud. My body slammed violently against the floor, and Hancanera leisurely climbed on top of me.

How could he go this far… Hancanera had released my cuffs on purpose, just to give me a glimmer of hope, only to shatter me all over again right here.

“Your monster’s making quite the fuss.”

For a moment, every nerve in my body shut down from sheer dread.

A muffled scream escaped through my clenched teeth. Even knowing that Hancanera could read my thoughts, I couldn’t stop myself.

‘No. No.’

Don’t come here, Banwes.

“If I stick to you long enough, he’ll come running. So, won’t you make a little noise for me too?”

A pitiful moan or a desperate scream—either would do. I like them both. I wonder which your monster prefers? he whispered.

Flat on my back, I was pinned beneath him. The more I struggled, the more my arms and legs lost their freedom. Hancanera’s hand tugged up my clothes.

I clenched my teeth and fought back. But when the resistance became futile, I braced myself and tightly shut my eyes.

Right then—

{Don’t close your eyes. Open them. Look.}

A voice, trembling with fury.

{Look upon the face of the one who brought you this misery.}

It was Rohin.

***

From beginning to end, Rohin had remained by Riarun’s side. He escaped the temple with him, and even when he was kidnapped and brought back, the spirit stayed.

But he took a form Riarun couldn’t recognize. The spirit had lost its original radiance, grown murky and dim.

When Hancanera embedded the demon in Riarun, he believed he had successfully completed the summoning ritual and called forth a real demon.

The ritual had nearly failed—but instead, it corrupted the spirit, splitting it into its true form and a tainted fragment. Hancanera didn’t even realize this.

The corrupted half had gained a will of its own—like a typical demon.

The spirit wanted to live. It had been born to protect life, not become a monster that harmed others.

It had to escape. From Hancanera.

The spirit looked upon the child locked beneath the temple.

A child trapped like itself. The reason it was trapped. A pitiful child it wished to save.

A clever child. One with a vast soul and a wide heart. That’s how he had endured the abuse.

The spirit was powerless. That was why, even if it meant becoming a demon, with a heart more desperate than that of any human, it pleaded to the god Gaoih.

Even if the price of begging another god meant losing its legitimacy and vanishing after this ended—it didn’t care.

Please help. Please help.

At that time, the god had just foreseen that, twelve years later, the black dragon Takiansis would be possessed by a demon.

The god responded. In twelve years, he would send a divine prophecy to a child who would then be twenty-nine years old.

Your child will be among them. So Riarun will escape. That is fate.

The original prophecy involved six individuals.

But the god soon altered the course.

There wouldn’t be just one demon in twelve years—but two.

The black dragon. And Rohin, the spirit being transformed into a demon by Hancanera.

With a prophecy about six heroes, they might slay the black dragon—but not the demon within Rohin. Even if Riarun pierced the demon’s heart with the holy sword, it wouldn’t destroy Rohin’s main body still in the southern temple.

Destruction would spread from the south. A horrific massacre would follow.

So the god deliberately tampered with the prophecy. He fabricated the ‘five heroes’ narrative. A false prophecy would later be given to Yurichen, and to the young Riarun, the groundwork was laid early.

The intention was to make Riarun, like Yurichen, act upon hearing his own prophecy.

But Riarun was not like Yurichen. If the god spoke to him directly, he would only reject it, maybe even grow hostile.

So the god chose a completely different method. He planted the prophecy about the five heroes in Riarun using a unique approach.

With information borrowed from another dimension—something called a “game.”