Gulp—

Darulma Dune swallowed nervously as soon as he saw who had just entered. Yeomyeong, following his gaze, couldn’t help but stifle a laugh himself.

“Oh... Was I interrupting something serious?”

The Saintess.

Unlike her usual appearance, she wasn't wearing her transparent cloak, and for once, she looked exactly like a true “saintess.”

She exuded a noble presence that not even a thick blindfold could hide. Dressed in a pristine white clerical robe adorned with golden embroidery, and with a matching white mantle draped over her shoulders, she might have inspired true devotion—if not for the revolver at her waist and the automatic rifle peeking over her shoulder.

Of course, that was from the Earthling perspective.

While the mercenaries outside the base camp were merely gawking in admiration, the dwarf seemed unfazed by the rifle.

“Oh, Saintess…”

Darulma Dune stood, lowered himself to one knee, and bowed his head. He clasped his hands together devoutly, covering his mouth—a gesture used beyond the dimensional gate to worship the Five Gods.

It was a flawless textbook pose, yet the Saintess paid him no attention. Instead, she marched straight into the base camp, grabbed Yeomyeong’s hand, and addressed the commander.

“Are you the leader of the Seonjook Mercenary Corps?”

“…Yes, Saintess. I am Commander Kwon Mongju.”

“Cost is no issue. I’ll be hiring him.”

A blunt declaration, followed by a brief silence. As Commander Kwon and Darulma Dune were left speechless, Yeomyeong pulled his hand free and asked her,

“What the hell is this all about?”

“I’ll explain later. For now, we need to go. There’s no time.”

“….”

“Oh, come on! If you stay here, you might lose your head!”

She tried pulling him several times, but Yeomyeong remained still. After a brief struggle, it was the Saintess who finally relented, letting out a long sigh before she spoke.

“…My mom is coming to kill you soon.”

“What?”

What nonsense was this? Her mom? Coming to kill him?

“…Is this some kind of code or metaphor?”

“No, I mean it literally. My mom is targeting you.”

And who exactly is her mother supposed to be? The leader of some holy knight order? Yeomyeong forced down his rising disbelief and confusion, reducing them all to one concise question.

“…Why?”

The Saintess hesitated before responding. After taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she leaned close to Yeomyeong’s ear and whispered.

“Well, I… I made a bit of a slip, and now my mom has the wrong idea about us.”

A slip of the tongue.

Upon hearing those words, Yeomyeong instantly realized that the person the dwarf had been speaking to on the phone was none other than the Saintess’s mother.

So that misunderstanding the dwarf had mentioned about “doing certain things” together—was she referring to—

‘Oh no.’

Up to this point, Yeomyeong had assumed the worst case was just a stolen kiss, but now he could see how wrong he’d been. He took a deep breath and asked her,

“What on earth did you say to make her think that?”

“It just… happened? I didn’t realize she’d get so mad when I said I wanted to hire you with my own money.”

“….”

“I also mentioned giving you a relic and that we slept in the same recovery room….”

“We were in the same recovery room? You actually told her—”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like I could just book a hotel room while wearing the transparent cloak. And I was worried about you, too…”

Watching her avoid his gaze, Yeomyeong felt less anger and more disbelief.

Meanwhile, outside the base camp, the mercenaries were observing with keen interest.

“What are they talking about? The new guy looks really serious.”

“Hey, isn’t it that thing? A lovers’ escape?”

“Are we gonna make it on the 9 o’clock news tomorrow?”

“Shut up! I can’t hear anything!”

Unable to bear the stares, Yeomyeong pressed a hand to his forehead. Normally, he’d get angry, but this situation was so far beyond his expectations that he was too overwhelmed to react.

It was hard to handle something like this with any grace, especially given his long years of solitary life.

 

While Yeomyeong was lost for words, the dwarf cautiously approached the Saintess.

“Um, Saintess…?”

“Yes?”

“I am Darulma Dune, responsible for the traditional restoration project at Dungan Heavy Industries. If you have a moment, I’d like to discuss business with you…”

He pulled out an old-fashioned paper business card and offered it to her.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time for that right now. We can talk after I—”

Bang!

A bullet lodged itself in the business card Darulma held, leaving it with a neat hole as it fluttered to the ground. The dwarf’s eyes widened in shock.

“Mother!”

The Saintess’s shout was all the warning they got before Yeomyeong and Commander Kwon sprang into action. Kwon grabbed the dwarf, and Yeomyeong pulled the Saintess behind an overturned table for cover.

“Aaah!”

A bullet embedded itself where Yeomyeong had just been standing, silent and without any hint of presence.

He instinctively gathered his mana, but he couldn’t locate the shooter.

This feeling—Yeomyeong recognized it. He drew his sword and asked the Saintess,

“Did you lose the transparent cloak to your mother?”

“…The cloak has always been hers.”

Thwack! The table spat splinters as another bullet tore through it. The dwarf gaped at the damage.

“Oh, Morrdak, help me!”

Before he could finish his cry, Commander Kwon picked him up.

“K-Commander Kwon! What are you—!”

Without explanation, Kwon flung the dwarf through the back door.

As the dwarf’s scream echoed away, Kwon finally drew his handgun.

“Saintess, I hope you’re prepared to compensate us for this mess.”

But even as he said it, he didn’t have a plan for dealing with the invisible sniper who was suppressing both mana and presence.

Calling the mercenaries in from outside would just turn them into sitting ducks.

Just then, Yeomyeong stood up from behind the table.

Oddly, no bullets came his way. The reason was simple: he was holding his sword to the Saintess’s neck.

“Oh… Using me as a hostage? Not a bad idea.”

With her words, a heavy silence settled over the camp. Kwon gave Yeomyeong a look that screamed disbelief, while even the sniper seemed at a loss.

After a few moments, a flat, emotionless voice came from nowhere.

“…You’re even more of a scoundrel than I thought.”

“You’re one to talk, firing without warning.”

Yeomyeong held the sword to the Saintess’s neck more conspicuously, and she flinched.

“Well, better to die by a bullet than be quartered by your followers, don’t you think?”

“What exactly did I do to deserve this?”

“Your sin is leaving footprints in a pristine field of snow.”

Yeomyeong felt a dull pain at the back of his head. He forced himself to ignore it.

“I swear, I’ve done nothing improper with the Saintess.”

“…And now you lie as well? If you don’t want to end up in hell, stop piling on sins.”

Yeomyeong focused his mana, sharpening his senses to their limits. But still, there was no trace of his opponent. Not yet, anyway.

He needed to buy a little more time and lure them into a mistake. He slowly edged back and spoke again.

“So you’re convinced I’m lying? I wonder why.”

“….”

There was no response. Yeomyeong raised his empty hand to the Saintess’s neck.

“Wait…!”

She gasped. Yeomyeong tightened his grip just slightly and addressed the empty air.

“Let me ask again. Why are you so sure I’m lying?”

“….”

“Answer.”

Finally, the Saintess started to act out a choking fit. At last, the opponent spoke up.

“…You changed her destiny.”

“Destiny?”

Was this another religious metaphor? Both the mother and daughter had a knack for cryptic language.

“That’s all I can explain… Now, pay the price for trifling with my daughter.”

In that instant, he detected an opening. Yeomyeong’s senses pinpointed the hidden barrel of a gun.

A tiny breach in the air, barely enough—but it was all he needed.

“Hey! Where are you touching—!”

Without hesitation, he threw the Saintess in the direction of the gun. Only because it was her mother was he able to act this way.

Perhaps she hadn’t anticipated the Saintess being thrown at her. The sniper neither fired nor ignored the falling daughter.

Like any mother, she dropped the gun and caught her.

In the next instant, Yeomyeong’s sword was at her neck, his blow halted just inches away.

Thanks to the cloak, he couldn’t tell whether it was her head or neck he’d aimed at. But even a small push would make it lethal.

The sniper admitted defeat in silence.

“…You’re a truly ruthless bastard.”

Floating in midair, the Saintess let out a short, astounded laugh, and Yeomyeong finally allowed himself to exhale.

“Then, let’s clear up the misunderstanding.”

He spun his sword away and retrieved a small rod from his waist, holding it out to the Saintess.

“Take it.”

“…What is this?”

The voice that responded came from beyond the invisible cloak.

“The handle of Uragan? How did you—?”

For the first time, there was a hint of surprise in her voice. It was faint, but definitely there.

“What’s this all about?”

While the Saintess looked puzzled, Yeomyeong quickly passed the rod to her.

It wasn’t because of any whispering voice calling for “chivalry.” Probably not, anyway.

Regardless, the handle of Uragan didn’t reject the Saintess. In fact, it emitted a gentle glow, blessing her.

“Wait… Hold on… Does the ‘pristine field of snow’ mean that?”

The Saintess’s expression twisted with confusion as she clutched the rod, while Yeomyeong looked past her toward the invisible cloak.

“You see?”

“….”

“I’ve never trespassed in your daughter’s field of snow. Nor do I ever intend to.”

The figure beyond the invisible cloak didn’t reply. But the Saintess, now understanding the “field of snow” reference, cried out.

“Enough already with this snow field nonsense!”