While everything unfolded, the hunters inside the dungeon weren’t sitting idle.

“Let’s take a better look around this forest.”

In particular, the priests of the Moon Sect were the most active.

“The flow of time is different inside and outside the ruins. There’s no need to split up — it would be better for everyone to move together.”

“Yes. Even if we take our time exploring this vast ruin, time barely passes outside. All siblings, gather here.”

“Our Saintess has stepped forward for us sinners. We can’t just sit still. Let’s do what we’re best at.”

The Moon Sect priests discussed among themselves and came to a quick agreement. One of the hunters awkwardly tried to interject.

“Um, hey... can we talk a bit...?”

“We understand that you all may feel discomfort or resistance toward the sins of our Moon Sect. There’s no need to accommodate us. It would be best if everyone just did what they needed to do.”

“Wait, don’t jump to conclusions like that.”

“We’re simply sorry to have exposed you to such unpleasant truths. But since our Saintess has gone so far for the sake of the Moon Sect, we can’t stay idle. We’ll ensure we cause no inconvenience, so please don’t worry.”

“I said, let’s talk, people. Are you doing this on purpose?”

An experienced hunter grabbed one of the Moon Sect priests by the scruff and dragged them into the group of hunters. Though the priest went along with a mumbled “uhhh,” their expression looked like they were bracing to be beaten. Hunters began murmuring at the sight of their wrinkled, self-defeated faces.

“...Was the Moon Sect always this... like this? I’m not too familiar with religious circles.”

“As far as I know, they were always dry and individualistic, focused solely on knowledge and wisdom... cold and rational.”

“Cold and rational? After seeing those dumb expressions?”

“I mean, that’s how they used to be.”

The hunters picked up on something off about the Moon Sect priests. It wasn’t that they had uncovered anything deeply hidden — the priests’ expressions had completely collapsed. The Moon Sect priests seemed unhinged somehow.

Even after their gravest sins were exposed, they didn’t try to hide their shame.

“Ghh...! Please, kill us!”

“What the hell is wrong with these people?”

The hunters were simply bewildered. They didn’t place heavy meaning on the Moon Sect’s sins.

“Even if there’s been trouble, that’s the Moon Sect’s internal matter. There’s no reason to grovel to us. And what’s this nonsense about begging for death?”

“What, are we shooting a period drama? We’ve already got too much to do in this dungeon, so let’s not make things awkward among ourselves. You priests, lift your heads. Just go out and clean things up. Geez...”

“If you’re doing something, at least include us. Our guild leader finished dreaming a while ago and left. Share your wisdom with us.”

The Moon Sect’s history — offering saints to divinity for the sake of the world — was chilling. Some were even furious. But in today’s individualistic society, what did that have to do with them?

“So what exactly should we be doing?”

They just wanted to wake up from this damn nightmare.

“Are we supposed to explore the ruins?”

“You mustn’t involve yourselves with sinners like us. We’ll find our own way to atone...”

“Then share it with us. I didn’t think the Moon Sect was so selfish — hogging the strategy to themselves.”

“We are sinners who stood by and watched the pitiful ends of noble ones...!”

“Like we care?”

“H-How could you say something so harsh...!”

Some of the hunters caught on to the true nature of the Moon ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Sect.

“...Ah. Social ineptitude.”

“Oh... that makes sense.”

“No wonder we couldn’t communicate with them.”

The Moon Sect’s closed-off culture — once masked by their reputation as cold, scholarly ascetics — now became apparent. Always studying and researching among themselves, they had never developed social skills. It was an inevitable outcome.

“Very different from the Sun Church priests.”

“Those people drain me just by talking...”

“Before you know it, you’ve donated money.”

There were reasons the Moon and Sun churches had long been at odds. Their temperaments were simply too different. Some Sun Church priests mingling among the crowd were looking at the Moon Sect with visible contempt.

“Hah... How could you treat a noble saint like that...”

“If that’s how they treat them, they should’ve handed them to us.”

“Sister, please, ears are listening. Speak with decorum.”

“Honestly, we would be better suited to serve the Saintess than the Moon Sect.”

“Exactly. That’s the point.”

The Sun Church was already displeased that Hunter Sergio — believed to be a saint — had recently taken up residence with the Moon Sect. Once this dungeon wrapped up, they would likely stir things up inside and out to take back both Hunter Sergio and Saintess Aram.

The Moon Sect, aware of this brewing resentment, had no strength to object. Their dejected demeanor made the Sun Church feel more uncomfortable. It would've been better if the Moon Sect just fought back with their usual sharp words.

“...Tch. Now I can’t even say anything.”

“They’re so deflated. Should’ve done better from the start...”

In the midst of this strange atmosphere, Seo Seo-Hee smiled.

“Well, shall we get moving now?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Let’s do that...”

With the Moon Sect priests — experts in organizing knowledge and information — at the center, the hunters analyzed the ruins. The site was vast, like a fortress surrounding a large city. It contained many stories about the Evil God.

Most of the information had already been explained by Saintess Aram before she left...

“.......”

Seo Seo-Hee, guildmaster of Justitia, stared at a wall.

“.......”

“Guildmaster? Is there something there?”

“No, nothing.”

There was nothing there.

“Just thought it was well made.”

All over the ruin walls were countless works carved in bas-relief.

Some were so detailed and lifelike that one might think they were real. Others were abstract — depictions of landscapes, animals, or humans with faceless features. Seo Seo-Hee looked up at the ceiling.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“.......”

The vice-guildmaster also looked up. The ceiling depicted a twilight sky.

“...Ah.”

At first, they thought it was a magical illusion — but it wasn’t. It was purely made with torches, shadows, and engraving. They realized instinctively that it was a human-made creation.

Seo Seo-Hee asked his friend’s reaction.

“Amazing, right? It must’ve been left untouched for a long time, but it’s still in great shape.”

“...You might be the only one thinking about that inside a dungeon.”

“No way. Guildmaster Bisa Beul is like that too. Looking for romance in dungeons.”

“He’s kind of an eccentric case, isn’t he?”

“Haewoon too.”

“.......”

At the mention of another Symbol of Eternity, the vice-guildmaster fell silent. It was fine to talk about other guilds like the Collectors, but he clearly didn’t want to comment on their leader’s close friends.

Seo Seo-Hee chuckled lightly.

“For some reason, I really like works like this.”

In a world where magic is real and mysteries abound, you could easily make impressive creations using skills. But Seo Seo-Hee preferred this kind — the pure miracle and emotion of human hands.

Something massive, intuitive, and not conventionally beautiful — wasn’t it wonderful?

“I wonder who made it.”

“According to records, it would’ve been the last dragon to die in this forest.”

“If it was a dragon, wouldn’t they have used magic? They’re called the pinnacle of mystery. They could’ve done this far more easily — and yet chose this painstaking method.”

“The broken chairs and ladders we saw — I guess they were for this.”

“...That’s sad...”

He clicked his tongue.

“He must’ve been an amazing artist.”

“And now that artist is trying to kill us.”

“He’s not trying to kill — he just doesn’t know what to do with his rage.”

“Do you pity that dragon?”

“You can’t help but think ‘what if’...”

If things had gone differently, he might’ve become an artist who led an era. A great sculptor and painter. A magnificent dancer who turned joy into art. But he didn’t get that chance.

‘...One day, this kind of tragedy could happen in our own world.’

That’s why he kept an eye on the Moon Sect’s situation. His friend and fellow Symbol of Eternity, Jeong Hae-Woon, was preparing groundwork for just that.

Even though they couldn’t put their preparations to use, it felt good to have helped prevent the Moon Sect’s tragedy in an unexpected way.

“.......”

Yes. Think of the good outcomes.

“So, where should we head next?”

“Shall we explore the ruins further?”

“There are plenty who can do that better than me — like the Moon Sect priests.”

“You’re right, Guildmaster.”

“We’ve torn through this house. So it’s about time the homeowner showed up, but... he’s nowhere to be seen. That massive dragon we saw at the Dream Amusement Park — where is he now?”

“If he’s the Demon King, then he’s probably at the Demon King’s Castle. If he’s not home, he’s at work. Not like he has a lot of places to be.”

“That’s a solid guess.”

Seo Seo-Hee drew his sword and began walking.

“Sad as it is, we don’t have much time.”

“It’s about time the public back in reality starts reacting badly.”

“If we drag this out, things will get worse.”

The Saintess seemed busy on her end. They had to handle theirs.

“I wonder how much that brilliant Saintess has foreseen?”

It was time to ask for some help.

***

The Evil God asked.

And the human in the prison replied.

“.......”

Ather still held a strong will to live.

“Well... if you ask me why... I don’t really have an answer.”

Isn’t living better than dying?

“...Of course, some lives are worse than death. I’ve lived such a life — trapped in that horrid thorn prison. Back then, death was a mercy I couldn’t even hope for, so I called out to you... Argio.”

A terrible thing.

“It was a triumph that my companions and I achieved by giving up everything.”

And Ather destroyed it with his own selfishness. If he had simply endured the pain, the boredom, the Evil God would have remained sealed. Would have — surely.

That knowledge gnawed at him constantly.

“...But what could I have done?”

Ather had perhaps suffered in the thorn prison for thousands of years. And yet, as a human who’d be considered long-lived at 80, he had tasted undeserved glory.

“Of course, that’s all just an excuse. I know that well. During the sealing, my 14-year-old companion was crushed by a dragon’s foot. Another friend of the same age was torn apart alive and devoured. A third, who was 16, cried endlessly under the Evil God’s curse until his eyes bled and finally melted — only then did he rest.”

The Evil God’s curse was horrific.

“I remember it vividly. The curses... yes. They were nothing like magic. Nothing like the holy powers of saints. In those times, all the laws of the world were warped and came for me without hesitation. That sight... it was truly... bewildering.”

The royal archivist, who prided himself on knowing the laws of the world better than anyone, said:

“Rotting flesh and hallucinations were mild symptoms.”

Some things he remembered too clearly. The Evil God was hypersensitive to the emotion of rage.

“Those who betrayed their lovers and earned their wrath merged with their affair partners — sharing a single leg, their torsos detached. They died soon after from exhaustion.”

And what else...

“Parents who abandoned their children and earned their hate lost their tongues, vocal cords, and lips — unable to eat or drink, they died. It wasn’t pleasant to witness.”

There were more.

“Cruel, grotesque, filthy, and repulsive. Unlike the fear of war, this was a defilement by unknown laws. The disgust of bugs crawling on you...”

No wonder the Evil God earned such hostility.

It was, in a way, divine punishment. But no one believed that anymore. Even now, Ather agreed — it was nothing more than a twisted god of rage seeking a sacrificial offering.

In other words — a natural disaster.

“...And humans have always tried to defy nature...”

Ather, trapped in the Evil God’s grasp, blinked slowly. A strange drowsiness crawled up his back, settled in his brain, and wrapped around it gently. The weight of sleep pressed on his brow.

He pressed two fingers firmly to that heavy brow.

“.......”

And then spoke again.

“Why wouldn’t I have gone mad?”

Ather was already a lunatic.

“I suffered for so long. I can no longer claim to be human. The Evil God reshaped me into human form — but how could that be called human? I’m a ghost of the ancient past. A monster. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Still, he was glad to have met the Saintess. Grateful to follow her views. As a mere wraith, he was at least able to mimic humanity. It was a little different from speaking with the Evil God Argio.

“When I talk to the Evil God, I don’t feel alive. I feel like I’m just a mystery drifting in the air. Not human. And yet, I must’ve still been alive... but why? That’s how it felt.”

But with Aram, he felt like he was human.

He wouldn’t differentiate. He accepted and loved both sensations. What Ather wanted to say was simple: he could become human, but he wasn’t one.

“And if I’m a monster shaped by the Evil God, then take my head.”

“Even with such will to live, you wish for that?”

“I’m simply fulfilling my role. My time should’ve ended with my era.”

“I see.”

The Evil God, resting in his palm, let out a small laugh.

“Then I will take you.”

My hand is empty, after all.