Maha splashed cool water onto her face, letting it run down her cheeks and chin before she leaned forward to breathe deeply. The marathon ground was quieter now—most people had drifted away, leaving behind only the scent of grass, the lingering warmth of sunlight, and the soft rustle of wind. She grabbed her small white towel and gently wiped her face, patting away the sweat and clearing her thoughts.

  Behind her, the man who had approached earlier waited patiently, hands folded in front of him. Selina stood a little distance away, watching the exchange carefully.

  Maha finally turned toward the man.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked, calmly and directly.

  The man stepped forward and gave a brief bow.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Sherlock,” he said. “I am from Hope Corporation Ltd. Shall we get to the point?”

  Maha nodded once, her expression neutral but attentive.

  Sherlock opened a thin black folder, revealing diagrams, charts, and documents neatly attached. He began speaking with a practiced tone.

  “We want to create a guild. And we—”

  Maha lifted her hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

  “You want me as its guild master, don’t you?”

  Sherlock paused… then nodded.

  “Yes. That is exactly our intention.”

  He continued, flipping through a few pages.

  “We are businessmen. With your talent, your mana flow, and your combat achievements, we can gain a massive amount of mana gems from dungeon raids. You would lead. We would provide funding, equipment, logistics, and support. It benefits both parties…”

  He started showing the folder properly now—projections, maps of unexplored dungeons, potential earnings, future expansions. Selina leaned a bit closer, impressed despite herself. Sherlock’s voice grew more confident as he spoke.

  “With this collaboration, you can rise to the top. You could become the strongest guild master of the next era. Fame, power, wealth—everything is within reach. So will you consider it?”

  He looked at Maha expectantly.

  Maha closed her towel slowly, her eyes steady.

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  Sherlock froze.

  “S-Sorry?” he repeated, confused.

  Maha shook her head gently.

  “I cannot accept your offer.”

  Sherlock’s confusion deepened into disbelief. He had come prepared with numbers, strategy, statistics—everything. Rejection wasn’t something he expected.

  “But… why?”

  Maha slung her backpack onto one shoulder, her expression softening but her voice unwavering.

  “Without him, I am nothing.”

  Sherlock blinked.

  “Are you perhaps talking about the guild master of Phoenix Breath—Rabindra Robert?”

  Maha almost laughed, but her smile held no mockery—just certainty.

  “No. Rabindra isn’t even near him.”

  Selina’s brows lifted slightly. Sherlock looked even more lost.

  Maha continued, each word spoken with clarity and a quiet glow of truth.

  “He is my life’s light. He is my soulmate. The one who gave me direction when I had none. Without him, I’m just dust carried by the wind—going nowhere.”

  Her voice wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t desperate. It was honest.

  “So forget about me,” she said as she adjusted her bag strap.

  “Thank you for the offer. But my answer will not change.”

  Sherlock opened his mouth, then slowly closed it again. There was nothing left for him to argue with. No logic could overturn the resolve in Maha’s eyes.

  She turned away from him, her steps steady and calm as she walked off the field. Selina silently followed her with her eyes, understanding more than she said.

  Maha didn’t look back. The setting sun stretched her shadow across the ground as she left the marathon field behind—carrying her certainty, her devotion, and the name of the one she lived for engraved silently in her heart.

  Sherlock stood on the rooftop of Hope Corporation’s main branch, wind tugging at his coat as he reviewed the new list on his tablet. Names, ranks, power ratings—everything was falling into place.

  A-rank Rangers.

  B-rank Rangers.

  Even a surprising number of R-ranks who had shown interest.

  The guild he was forming was growing faster than he expected. With the company’s vast resources and his strategic planning, Hope Corporation’s future guild could easily become a powerhouse.

  Except—it didn’t have her.

  The one person every projection, every calculation, every model said was essential.

  Maha.

  A potential Divine-Level Ranger. Someone who could surpass even the legendary ranked individuals. Someone destined for a second awakening that could rewrite the balance of power.

  And he had lost her.

  Sherlock gritted his teeth. Numbers, funding, influence—he had all of it, yet he couldn’t secure the one pillar the guild needed most.

  Her words echoed in his mind again and again.

  “Without him, I am nothing.”

  Sherlock frowned.

  Who is ‘him’?

  A lover?

  A mentor?

  Some mythical hero?

  No matter how much he searched the ranger databases, guild records, or awakening logs, there was no trace of someone fitting Maha’s description. Whoever he was, he seemed to exist outside the ranking systems.

  And that fact alone terrified Sherlock.

  Because it meant this mysterious “him” was not ordinary.

  “Sherlock!” one of the executives called from behind. “The new recruits are assembled. They’re waiting for your address.”

  Sherlock nodded and turned, but his thoughts remained restless.

  He had to find the one Maha spoke of.

  Only then could he hope to recruit her.

  Only then could his guild reach the level he envisioned.

  But for now, one thing was sure—

  Sherlock didn’t even know where to begin looking.

  Meanwhile, far from corporate buildings and recruitment halls, Ray was facing a very different struggle.

  Inside a dim dungeon corridor, Ray stood with his breathing ragged, his sword trembling in his hand. He slashed again—barely managing to cut down a lower-level goblin.

  The creature disintegrated into mana dust, but Ray didn’t celebrate. His arm felt numb. His legs were shaking. Sweat dripped into his eyes.

  Why… why am I so slow today?

  He tried to steady his breathing, but it didn’t help. Every swing felt heavier than it should. Every movement felt held back, like invisible chains were wrapping around his muscles.

  Other hunters nearby whispered among themselves.

  Some snickered.

  Some shook their heads.

  Some openly mocked him.

  But Ray didn’t respond.

  He never did.

  He simply forced himself onward, deeper into the dungeon.

  The pain in his body grew sharper. A strange warmth pulsed inside his chest—like something ancient and powerful was trying to awaken, but couldn’t break free.

  He gripped his sword harder.

  “Tsk… why can’t I unleash my power when I need it the most…?”

  As he pushed forward, the shadows along the dungeon walls flickered. For a moment—just a moment—Ray felt a gentle, familiar presence brush against him.

  Soft.

  Warm.

  Divine.

  Serenith.

  He didn’t know why he thought of that name.

  Didn’t know what that presence meant.

  Didn’t know where it came from.

  He only knew one thing:

  Whenever he was near danger, whenever fear crept into his heart, he felt that same mysterious warmth.

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  As if someone was guiding him.

  Protecting him.

  Watching him.

  Ray touched his chest lightly.

  “Who… are you?” he whispered.

  The presence faded again, leaving nothing but silence.

  Ray continued down the dungeon path, unaware of the truth waiting for him—

  That the mysterious “him” Maha spoke of…

  The one Sherlock was desperate to find…

  And the presence Ray kept feeling…

  Were all the same person.

  And Ray was about to discover that truth sooner than anyone expected.

  Ray’s mornings had become a routine—wake up early, quietly slip past Joohee’s room so he wouldn’t disturb her, and step outside into the chilly dawn. Even though he lived in her apartment now, he refused to rely on her for everything.

  He had to earn money.

  He had to stand on his own feet.

  He had to prove he wasn’t a burden.

  So every day, he took small, low-paying hunter requests. Clearing weak goblins, escorting novice hunters, or collecting mana herbs—anything that could help him earn enough to contribute to the living expenses.

  But the truth was cruel.

  His power was sealed.

  His body was strong—but only on the outside.

  Every day ended the same way—

  Ray walking into the hospital with fresh wounds.

  The nurses always recognized him.

  They would stop whatever they were doing, glance at one another with a mix of worry and gentle amusement, and welcome him.

  “Oh, Ray is here again!”

  “Poor boy, he works so hard…”

  “He looks slim but inside—wow, those muscles…”

  “Six-pack and still gets hurt this much? He needs protection!”

  Ray always scratched his cheek, embarrassed.

  “Please… don’t make it sound weird,” he mumbled.

  But they never listened.

  Especially when they wrapped bandages around his torso, their eyes would widen at the toned muscles beneath his simple clothes.

  One of the young nurses whispered,

  “He’s like a soft-looking warrior… cute but strong…”

  Ray nearly choked on air.

  “I—I’m just doing my job…”

  They laughed softly, praising his dedication.

  He appreciated their kindness—because the world around him rarely provided any.

  After bandaging him up, they’d always say the same thing:

  “Come safely next time, okay?”

  Ray would smile awkwardly, nod, and head back out.

  But the true storm always waited at home.

  When Ray stepped into the apartment and Joohee spotted even a single scratch on him—

  The gentle healer transformed.

  Her cheeks puffed up.

  Her eyebrows tightened.

  Her voice softened with anger only someone who cared too much could have.

  “Ray!! Again??”

  Ray froze.

  “I-I couldn’t help it…”

  Joohee marched toward him, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him to the sofa.

  “Sit. Now.”

  He obeyed instantly.

  She placed her glowing hands on his wounds, healing magic flowing like warm light.

  “How many times is this now?” she scolded gently.

  “I’ve lost count already. You get hurt every single day!”

  Ray flinched.

  “Sorry… I owe you even more then!”

  Joohee paused.

  Her magic flickered softly.

  “You’re not supposed to owe me,” she whispered.

  “You’re supposed to take care of yourself…”

  Ray looked down, unable to meet her eyes.

  He didn’t want to tell her how weak he felt compared to other hunters.

  How every monster he faced reminded him of the sealed power inside him—the power he should have been able to wield as the son of the Eternal Goddess, Aurelya.

  But that power was locked.

  Caged.

  Sleeping deep within him.

  And so he fought every day with nothing but sheer willpower, a strong body, and a sword that grew heavier with every failure.

  When she finished healing him, Joohee sighed.

  Her anger had melted into quiet worry again.

  “Ray,” she said softly,

  “You’ll break yourself at this rate.”

  He forced a small smile.

  “I won’t. I promise. I just… need to keep going. Even if it’s slow.”

  She looked at him for a long moment—

  As if searching for the truth he wasn’t saying.

  “…Fine. But if you get hurt again tomorrow,” she said while puffing her cheeks,

  “you’re paying for my ice cream for a week.”

  Ray blinked.

  “Huh? Why ice cream…?”

  “Because I deserve it for dealing with your recklessness!”

  Ray laughed gently.

  “Alright… I owe you even more then.”

  He didn’t know it yet—

  But these small days of pain, healing, scolding, and warmth

  Were quietly shaping his fate.

  And his sealed power was watching…

  Waiting for the moment it would awaken.

  Warm light filtered through petals of every color imaginable, gently brushing Seraphyne’s eyelids. The world around her shimmered with a soft glow, as though time itself was holding its breath. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  For a moment, she simply lay there—feeling the pulse of life around her, hearing the faint rustle of flowers swaying under a divine breeze.

  She was awake.

  After so long… she had finally awakened.

  Her wounds, once deep enough to shake the realms, were now completely gone—healed by the ancient blessing of this place. She slowly sat up on the soft, silver-white grass beneath her, and the gentle colors of the garden revealed themselves fully.

  This was Eryndor’s Garden of Eternity, created long ago by her father for her alone.

  A sanctuary the other gods called The Bloom of Infinite Dawn.

  Flowers stretched endlessly in every direction, each one glowing in a different hue—ruby red, serene blue, soft amber, radiant violet, shimmering emerald. Some petals floated in the air like feathers made of light, and others danced gently with the wind, creating waves of color as far as the eye could see.

  Above her, the sky was a gentle gradient—pale gold near the horizon and soft pink higher up, blending like a divine watercolor painting. Threads of luminescent mist curled around the flower beds, drifting slowly like living silk.

  The air smelled faintly of morning dew mixed with a sweet floral fragrance that brought a kind of tranquility only gods could weave into existence.

  As Seraphyne took in the scene, several maids who had been waiting at a respectful distance suddenly hurried toward her. Their wings shimmered with faint silver light, fluttering softly like butterflies.

  “Lady Seraphyne, you’re awake!”

  “Thank the heavens…”

  “We were so worried…”

  Their voices trembled with relief and devotion.

  The head maid, a graceful woman with long lilac hair tied neatly with a silver ribbon, stepped forward. She knelt slightly and offered a delicate crystal cup filled with freshly brewed celestial tea—its surface glowing faintly with a rainbow tint.

  “Please, my lady. This will soothe your soul after such a long rest.”

  Seraphyne accepted the cup gently.

  The warmth seeped into her palms immediately, calming her nerves.

  She took a small sip.

  The flavor was pure and soft—like sunshine melted into liquid, with a whisper of sweetness that lingered on her tongue. Every sip felt like breathing out a burden she didn’t know she carried.

  After a moment, she let out a deep sigh.

  A sigh that carried exhaustion.

  A sigh that carried memories of battles fought, sacrifices made, and the crushing silence that had drowned her before the Eternal Slumber took her.

  The maids exchanged soft glances, worried but silent.

  Seraphyne looked around again, her gaze tracing the countless flowers, the vibrant colors, the surreal calm of this sacred place.

  Everything was beautiful.

  Everything was peaceful.

  Everything was… gentle.

  Yet she felt a strange heaviness inside her heart.

  This garden—this masterpiece created by her father—was supposed to be a place of joy, warmth, and protection.

  But right now… the peace felt too fragile.

  Too quiet.

  Too still.

  “Father…” she whispered, lowering the cup slightly.

  Her voice trembled—barely audible.

  The garden responded with a soft breeze, as though comforting her, brushing her silver hair and fluttering her gown gently.

  She closed her eyes again.

  The weight of reality returned slowly—the distant turmoil beyond this sacred place, the shifting balance of the realms, the sealed powers, the awakening destinies.

  She knew something had changed while she slept.

  Something vast.

  Something dangerous.

  Something inevitable.

  Seraphyne opened her eyes once more, looking at the endless field of flowers created out of her father’s love.

  “…How long was I asleep?” she whispered.

  The maids hesitated—

  And the silence that followed

  Only deepened the unease blooming in her heart.

  The forest shook with growls and the snapping of branches as Ray and his party pushed deeper into the dungeon’s core. The clouds overhead were thick, dimming the sky and filling the battlefield with a tense grayness. Every breath from the X-wolves—E-rank monsters with crimson eyes and steel-like claws—echoed like a warning.

  Ray tightened his grip on his worn-out dagger.

  His body still felt heavy.

  His power still felt sealed.

  But he had no choice.

  “Three incoming from the left!” someone shouted.

  Ray forced his legs to move. The first wolf lunged—he dodged, slashed, and barely pierced its neck. The second pounced almost immediately. Ray slid to the ground, rolled, and stabbed up at its jaw. His arms stung from the impact. The third one bit down on his shoulder guard, dragging him across the dirt before he managed to ram his dagger into its eye.

  He was panting hard.

  Sweat mixed with blood on his cheek.

  His legs trembled.

  These were just E-rank monsters…

  Yet they felt like A-rank threats to his weakened body.

  Around him, the other party members were faring much better. Blades flashed. Spears struck. Magic flared in bright bursts. The wolves fell one after another.

  “Ray! You’re bleeding again—come here!” Joohee’s voice called sharply.

  She ran to him, kneeling beside him with her medical bag. Joohee pressed his arm, checking the wound. Her touch was gentle, almost too gentle for the battlefield.

  “You’re pushing yourself too hard again,” she muttered, her brows knitting in frustration. “I told you to fight from behind the formation, Ray. But you always—”

  “I know,” he said, forcing a smile through the pain. “But someone had to cover the left side.”

  “That doesn’t mean you should try to die doing it!”

  Her voice cracked for a moment, betraying her worry before she quickly cleared her throat and returned to her calm expression.

  Joohee was officially a B-rank healer/mage, but right now she wasn’t using magic—just her hands, cloth, potions, and her strange ability to stay composed no matter how chaotic things became.

  She wrapped his arm swiftly.

  Then his ribs.

  Then checked the bruising on his leg.

  “You’re getting hurt way more than everyone else,” she sighed.

  “It’s… kind of my specialty,” he joked weakly.

  She hit him lightly on the forehead with a finger.

  “Don’t joke about that.”

  Ray laughed softly. Even her anger was gentle.

  But before Ray could fully recover his breath—

  GRRRR—

  A deep, sudden growl sliced the air.

  Joohee froze.

  Her eyes widened.

  An X-wolf had slipped behind her—

  Silent, fast, and ready to kill.

  “JOOHEE—!”

  Ray didn’t think.

  His body moved before his mind.

  He tackled her forward, just as the wolf leaped.

  His dagger barely swung in time, scraping across its jaw. The wolf snarled, landing and spinning for another attack.

  Ray put himself between Joohee and the monster, gripping his dagger in both hands despite the pain shooting down his arms.

  The wolf lunged.

  Ray stepped in, twisting his body.

  The tip of his blade pierced the wolf’s throat—

  But his arm almost buckled from the force.

  The wolf collapsed at his feet.

  Everything grew quiet for a moment.

  Joohee stared at Ray—wide-eyed, breath caught, her hands still trembling from the surprise.

  “You… saved me…” she whispered.

  Ray managed a small smile.

  “I couldn’t let it hurt you.”

  Joohee pressed her lips together, her expression softening into something warm… and relieved. She quickly returned to his side, checking if he had taken any new wounds.

  “You idiot,” she whispered.

  “You absolute idiot… but thank you.”

  Ray tilted his head.

  Her voice was soft.

  Her eyes were shining a little.

  But the battle wasn’t over—

  Because behind the trees, more growls echoed.

  And Ray knew…

  Even if his strength was sealed,

  Even if he barely stood—

  He would fight again.

  The moment Ray brought down the wolf that lunged toward Joohee, the battlefield fell into a brief, shaky silence. His breathing grew uneven, and the burning pain near his right side sharpened every time he exhaled. Even so, he didn’t look at his wound—he only checked whether Joohee was safe.

  The remaining hunters, who had briefly let their guard down, snapped back into focus. With quick movements, they struck down the last hidden pack of X-wolves lurking in the shadows. Their weapons flashed, their footsteps kicked up dust, and within minutes the battlefield was still again.

  At last, the system notification appeared: Dungeon Boss Eliminated. Raid Cleared.

  Everyone let out relieved sighs.

  “All wolves down!” shouted one of the frontliners, raising his sword.

  But Ray slowly sank to one knee. The stab of pain near his right kidney finally made itself clear. Just before the wolf died, it had dragged its claws across his side. The wound wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it bled steadily through his torn shirt.

  Joohee hurried to him, kneeling. “Ray! You’re bleeding—wait, let me heal—”

  She lifted her hands, golden particles flickering… but the light faded almost immediately.

  “Huh…?” She blinked, trying again. Nothing. Not even a glimmer.

  Ray realized it before she spoke: she had run out of mana.

  “I–I’m sorry…” Joohee whispered, her voice tight with guilt. “I used too much earlier. I can’t cast anymore until I rest.”

  Ray gave a small smile despite the pain. “Don’t apologize. You’re the reason I’m still standing.”

  Some of the party members rushed over. “We need to get him to the hospital—now!”

  They supported Ray on both sides as they exited the dungeon. The bright outside light stung his eyes after the dark interior, but the fresh air helped him stay conscious. Each step was stiff, painful, and slow, but he kept moving.

  At the hospital, he was taken into a small treatment room. A young nurse with short hair and a gentle expression began cleaning the blood around his side. She worked carefully, checking how deep the scratch was.

  “It’s not severe,” she murmured, “but it’s messy. The bleeding needs to be stopped right away.”

  Ray clenched his jaw when the antiseptic touched the wound. Joohee stood nervously by the doorway, hands gripping each other tightly.

  As the nurse wrapped the bandage firmly around him, she leaned closer to check the placement. The moment the cloth tightened across his abdominal muscles, she froze for a second—then whispered under her breath, almost inaudible:

  “…Hot.”

  Ray didn’t hear it, but Joohee certainly did. Her eyes widened slightly, then she quickly looked away, embarrassed on the nurse’s behalf.

  “Alright,” the nurse said aloud, recovering herself. “The bleeding has stopped. Just avoid sudden movements for a day.”

  “Thank you,” Ray said, exhaling in relief.

  When the nurse left, Joohee stepped closer, her expression full of guilt.

  “Ray… I’m really sorry. If I hadn’t run out of mana, I could’ve healed you properly. You wouldn’t have to go through all this and—”

  “Hey,” Ray interrupted gently. “Why are you apologizing?”

  She blinked up at him.

  “It’s nothing compared to how much I owe you,” he continued, his voice soft yet sincere. “You’ve healed me so many times. Saved me from worse injuries. So don’t apologize. And definitely don’t thank me for saving you. That’s just… normal.”

  Ray smiled at her—warm, small, tired, but genuine.

  Joohee lowered her gaze, then nodded quietly. “Okay… but still… thank you, Ray.”

  He chuckled faintly. “You’re welcome.”

  The tension lifted just a bit. The pain was still there, the room still smelled of medicine, but the moment felt lighter.

  And for the first time since the raid began, Joohee allowed herself a small smile too.