Chapter 90: Agor’s Farewell and the Gathering of Hunters

Crumbling—

Their farewell arrived amidst a strange phenomenon. The Red Gate, which had shimmered like a heat haze behind Agor, began to shrink, as if evaporating. Perhaps, the Red Gate had been born of Agor’s own desires.

A soft coo—

Agor’s eyes crinkled as a gentle smile touched her lips. Though the cube puzzle held in her mouth made her look comically wide-mouthed, her expression remained innocent and benevolent.

The moment Dali’s arms, which had been tightly embracing Agor, loosened, Agor nudged her head against Dali’s chest once more before turning away. She turned, not lingering in her final moments, revealing a severed tail.

It was a mark from Dali’s bite.

Trudging towards the Red Gate, Agor turned her head one last time to look at Dokyeom. Her deep black eyes, beautiful as if studded with stars, met his. Was she perhaps trying to say, ‘Please take care of them’?

Maintaining eye contact, Agor dipped her head once, then was swallowed by the crimson light.

Crumbling—

Within the dissolving light, a faint silhouette dwindled into a speck and vanished. The eerily blazing red light gradually diminished in form. Soon, everything dissipated like smoke.

In place of the gate, only a deep, hollowed-out mound of earth now remained before their eyes.

She had returned. To her home, a place where human footsteps would no longer tread.

Dokyeom approached the dazed Dali and gently buried their small head into his embrace.

A soft chirp—

Dali chirped weakly, gazing at the spot where the gate had vanished.

“Yes,”

Dokyeom surmised that Dali was likely trying to say it was their family, their mother—a good person—and that they hoped she would be well.

As the inarticulate chirping faded, it was replaced by sobs. Dali’s large, tear-like drops streamed down their face as they clutched their empty hands tightly.

Dokyeom gently patted their small back.

“Dali, I took a picture. I’ll get it printed for you, okay? You can look at it, and we can live well together, you and I.”

Dokyeom didn’t understand. Others described the pain of parting with family as if their flesh were being torn, but this was not something he could comprehend. Dokyeom was an orphan, after all.

He couldn’t recall. From the moment he became aware, it felt as though he had awoken alone in a dim, desolate world. His childhood, spent grappling with the reality of abandonment rather than the existence of parents, now seemed impossibly distant.

Only the memories he was forced to endure remained vivid.

With no one to rely on, he had come to accept his solitude as a natural state, more so than others. The yearning for parents that others often felt was something he genuinely questioned, so detached was he from such emotions.

He simply thought, ‘Ah, I’m alone. That’s why even a small room feels so vast.’ He had lived with such thoughts, even when he was as young as Dali.

“Or, should I be your dad?”

A sharp squeak—

Dali shook their head vehemently, smearing tears and snot onto his clothes. That, too, they disliked.

Perhaps it was because they looked different from Agor, or because their standard for ‘parents’ had been so firmly set by Agor, but Dali adamantly refused even as they cried.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go. People will be coming.”

Dokyeom scooped up the sniffling Dali and approached Agon, who had been intently watching the sinkhole from above.

The moment Agon heard faint voices from above, he hoisted Dokyeom and began to climb out of the pit. Dali, too, sealed their lips and quieted their cries at his swift movements.

A moment later, from the opposite side of the receding sinkhole, the shouts of hunters echoed.

“Why is the Gate… Hey, hey! Call the guild! The Gate’s gone, immediately…!”

“Why the hell does this have to happen when I’m on watch?! This is driving me insane!”

In the fleeting moment the distant shouts began to fade, Dokyeom looked up at the sky. He saw three towering mountains and the swirling snow.

Tomorrow or the day after, the three major guilds would likely issue official notices to Seoul’s smaller guilds and select personnel for the raid. The raiding party would consist of approximately 100 individuals.

Participation would be based on voluntary applications. However, most applicants would undoubtedly be A-class, with a rare few B-class support hunters joining their ranks.

Perhaps Dokyeom would be the only E-class hunter to participate.

The Three Sisters of the Snow Mountain. A ‘Grand Historical Reenactment’ where two powers resided. From that reenactment, Geon Ita would return, having obtained one of those powers.

The other ‘one’ would ordinarily vanish, unobtainable, only to re-emerge during the next Grand Historical Reenactment.

However, with Taeseongyeon unexpectedly well and alive, Korea would now return with both powers this time.

Dokyeom would gain ‘no’ power from there. What he needed to acquire was something other than power: the skill possessed by the youngest of the three sisters.

The passive activation skill, .

****

Five days swept by in a relentless blur. Just as Dokyeom had predicted, precisely five days later, the Red Gate shrouding the skies of Seoul uncoiled its massive form, slowly signaling the advent of disaster.

Blizzards poured from the sky, blanketing all of Seoul and blurring the line between day and night. Rivers and waterways had long since frozen solid, and a record-breaking cold snap had paralyzed the city.

Meanwhile, the three major guilds issued official requests for cooperation to guilds across the nation, mobilizing as many A-class hunters as possible for the raiding party. Approximately 100 individuals had gathered.

Dokyeom and Beom Yeonhu were among the hunters present. Though mostly comprised of A-class hunters, B-class support hunters were occasionally spotted, but Beom Yeonhu, a C-class, and Dokyeom, an E-class, were practically living national treasures.

The assembled expeditionary force was currently gathered before the Dragon’s Ascent, located at Seoul City Hall. That Dragon’s Ascent was the ‘door’ leading to the snow mountain suspended above Seoul.

Whirring—

A scene he had witnessed before unfolded across the snowy skies. Dozens of helicopters hovered, and YouTubers perched on various high-rise buildings, recording footage.

Below them, over a hundred hunters waited.

“This is Lee Junseok, reporter for NB1! As you can see, blizzards are raging like razor-sharp winds across the city skies! The current temperature in Seoul has plunged past minus 35 degrees Celsius, and the air feels as though it’s piercing our lungs!

Near the Dragon’s Ascent, which has appeared before Seoul City Hall, the cold snap is truly skin-shredding! NB1 has risked life and limb to capture footage of the hunters standing before it!”

Despite the extreme weather anomaly, the helicopters buzzed enthusiastically, whirring through the air, by some unknown means. If another helicopter flew too close, risking a collision, they would instantly forgo broadcasting and start swearing.

Upon closer inspection, the one cursing was reporter Ju Nohaan, who, true to form, was hanging upside down beneath a helicopter, busy reporting. Fully equipped, even with a fur hat, reporter Ju Nohaan was risking his life to capture the scene on camera.

“Stay away, you NB1 bastards! Why are you invading my territory and causing a ruckus?! Shoo, shoo, get out of here! You’re interfering with my shot!”

“What’s this about ‘my territory’ and ‘your territory’ in the sky, you petty scoundrel! You tell your pilot to fly straight!”

The sight of them squabbling over ‘my spot’ and ‘your spot’ in the sky was quite a spectacle. Of course, recording wasn’t limited to just reporters and YouTubers.

Among the hundred hunters gathered to enter the Dragon’s Ascent, many also held cameras. These were ‘Video Hunters,’ deployed to relay events from the snow mountain to the outside world in real-time.

“Well, at least they’ve gathered.”

Dokyeom scanned the surrounding hunters, then suddenly his gaze met Taeseongyeon’s in the distance. Seeing Taeseongyeon’s attire, lighter than anyone else’s here, a surge of irritation welled up in Dokyeom.

Among all the people present, Dokyeom was the only one bundled in thick clothes. All because of his wretched E-class status.

‘What? Why?’

As Dokyeom glared at Taeseongyeon from head to toe, Taeseongyeon’s eyes crinkled in a smile. He then casually shoved both hands into his coat pockets and dramatically flung his coat open.

It was, in essence, an invitation to come closer.

‘Is he insane?’

Dokyeom shot him a sarcastic look, then sharply turned his back. Everyone was currently waiting for the headcount, but as soon as the hunters’ identities were confirmed, they would have to set foot towards the Dragon’s Ascent.

“Dokyeom, wrap this around too.”

Beom Yeonhu, having procured a scarf from who knew where, quickly wrapped it around Dokyeom’s neck. Beom Yeonhu, perhaps due to his rank, was also dressed more lightly than Dokyeom.

Unlike Dokyeom, who wore a hoodie, a vest, and a long down jacket over them, Beom Yeonhu was clad in just a windbreaker. Agon was no different, and neither was Dali, who tended to run warm.

“Hyung, aren’t you cold dressed like that? You’re really not cold?”

“No, it’s tolerable. It’s just a bit colder than the usual winter.”

‘…Is that even possible? It’s minus 35 degrees Celsius right now. Ugh, E-class, really.’

While Dokyeom was lost in his solitary contemplation of ranks, an investigator from the association approached him, checked his ID, presented a document, and even handed him a pen for a signature.

It was a waiver stating that if he lost his life here, it would be attributed to his own fault. It was merely a formality, so he signed it carelessly and retrieved his ID.

Once Beom Yeonhu had also completed the process, the investigator swiftly ran forward with the documents. He then handed the records to Taeseongyeon, Geon Ita, and Hadongwon of the Media Guild for verification.

“Hyung, it’s not too late. You should just leave. It’s really dangerous in there.”

Beom Yeonhu remained silent, simply gazing slowly up at the snow-swept Dragon’s Ascent.