TDLHRH 11

Horang stepped into the room, an annoyed expression etched on her face. She stood before the Narin, arms crossed, silently staring at it instead of touching it. Watching her, Haerang’s anxiety grew.

Is she going to get angry and destroy the place?

Haerang wasn’t entirely sure of Horang’s power, but he had heard stories from those who had been in Paju with them. When the Baek siblings reunited, the person who attacked them was reportedly an A-grade mage. More specifically, this mage was an A+ grade elemental mage and a promising talent under S-grade mage Go Minyoung’s training.

Go Minyoung had whispered, “I can’t share the details, but if trained well, this mage could surpass Dojin. Your sister… she just waved her hand and erased a full-power fireball—one launched with every ounce of survival instinct that A+ mage had. Is your sister even human?”

Though spoken as a joke, there was a hint of sincerity in her words. Haerang laughed it off, scolding her for the nonsense and ending the call.

“My sister, not human? Ridiculous. She looks exactly the same as she did back then.”

Although, I do need to ask her about that mole under her eye.

If there were any differences to be noted, it was her hair, now so long it reached her lower back even when tied up haphazardly, and the striking, tattoo-like crimson mark under her eye. The hair was reasonable, considering how much time had passed since she left. The mark, however, was something Haerang had never seen before.

That must be tied to something she experienced in that other world.

The returned Horang seemed to carry countless secrets, including that mark, which Haerang couldn’t yet understand. He decided not to rush. The siblings had plenty of time now, so he would learn about them gradually.

As Haerang steeled his resolve and watched Horang, who still looked as wary as a cat encountering something unfamiliar, he sensed someone approaching from behind. The footsteps were confident, showing no intention of masking their presence. Haerang recognized the person immediately; they had met a few times before.

The door burst open, and the person who entered was S-grade swordsman Jegal Hyeon. Though Jegal Hyeon appeared to be a man in his 70s, no one knew his actual age. Among those who knew of him, the consensus was that he was somewhere between 100 and 150 years old. Like Horang, Hyeon was a returnee, famously known for coming from a world straight out of martial arts novels—a realm filled with warriors and sects. His interviews had made him the idol of every martial arts novel enthusiast.

One of his most iconic quotes was: “A true warrior upholds righteousness and honor.” Not long after saying that, he had launched recruitment ads for his guild, Jegal—a move that thrilled martial arts fans even more.

Despite the universal truth that movement slows with age, Jegal Hyeon was an exception, as befitted a returnee. Though Haerang had never fought alongside him, the promotional videos from his guild showed him moving so swiftly that his actions were barely visible. There were rumors of the footage being edited, but those quickly died down since everyone knew that someone like Hyeon, who led one of the nation’s top guilds, had no need to fake his skills.

Jegal Hyeon, known for sparing no expense in promoting his guild, often expressed nostalgia for his old world. He was infamous for quickly scouting returnees to join Jegal Guild whenever they appeared in Korea. He claimed his motives were half the hope that one of them might be from his former world and half the desire to strengthen his guild. Truthfully, it was probably 80% the latter.

Even now, he was probably here, sly as an old fox, gathering information. Though slightly exasperated by his obsession with skilled individuals, Haerang respected him as a skilled elder and greeted him with a small smile. Of course, that smile would quickly morph into the sharp fangs of a predator if Jegal Hyeon tried to drag Horang away.

“Guild Leader Jegal, it’s been a while.”

“Ah, Haerang. Indeed, it’s been a while—what, about three months?”

“That’s right. The last time we met was during the Hunter Examination. So, what brings you here today?”

Feigning ignorance of Hyeon’s blatant ploy, Haerang asked directly about his intentions. Hyeon chuckled warmly, responding with a benevolent tone:

“Well, one of our new guild members insisted on redoing their measurement test. There was no reasoning with them, so I had no choice but to bring them along. When I heard you were here too, Haerang, I thought I’d drop by and say hello.”

“Ah, I see.”

Tears and tantrums in Jegal Guild, which prided itself on a strict hierarchy and discipline reminiscent of orthodox sects in martial arts stories? Preposterous.

But this old man had a way of making even the most implausible stories sound believable. Haerang didn’t bother hiding his crooked smile as he relaxed his posture. This wasn’t a time for politeness—it was a time to protect his family.

To someone like Hyeon, who had a wealth of experience, Haerang probably looked like a puffed-up kitten trying to appear intimidating. Still, Haerang deliberately displayed his hostility to ensure Hyeon got the message.

Perhaps the smile’s underlying message had reached him, as Hyeon’s benevolent expression began to crack. Straightening his back, Hyeon approached and plopped down right next to Haerang.

Haerang’s gaze fell on the staff Hyeon carried—more an accessory than a necessity for someone who moved effortlessly and slaughtered monsters. There wasn’t a single hunter who didn’t recognize that this seemingly crude staff was actually a blade forged by mixing ground mana stones into metal.

Noticing Haerang stiffen unconsciously, Hyeon made a show of placing the staff-turned-blade between his legs, gripping it with both hands, and sighing.

“There’s no need to be so on edge, Haerang. I’m really just here to say hello. Your sister, the returnee, right?”

“…Yes.”

“She doesn’t seem like someone from the martial arts world, and I don’t see the need to scout anyone who isn’t a swordsman. My guild only needs swordsmen and healers.”

Many of those so-called healers mainly use attack magic, don’t they?

Haerang swallowed his retort and nodded silently.

Hyeon continued, indifferent to whether Haerang was paying attention or not.

“By the way, you two really don’t look alike. Didn’t you once say you take after your mother?”

“Yes, and my sister takes after our father.”

“Ah, yes… Well, setting that aside, I truly think it’s fortunate that you found your family. When I returned, my family had already passed on, leaving no one to welcome me back or embrace me with joy.”

Hyeon’s voice, heavy with regret, left Haerang momentarily silent.

Hyeon was one of the longest-missing gate returnees, and even the Hunter Association had written off his return as highly unlikely. Yet, against the odds, he came back after 40 years—an unprecedented span in the short 100-year history of gates—offering hope to countless families of the missing.

His case even prompted changes in the law; previously, a person missing for 10 years was declared dead without exception. Now, thanks to Hyeon, gate-related disappearances no longer carried such rigid time limits.

Of course, this change primarily benefitted the families left behind, ensuring they could continue to hope without the burden of legal death declarations. Public petitions secured the law’s place without further amendments.

…Haerang remembered reading about this in history textbooks.

Through his interactions with Hyeon after becoming a hunter and guild leader, Haerang learned a somber truth: Hyeon’s last surviving family member, a younger sibling, had passed away just two years before his return.

Objectively, it was a deeply tragic and sorrowful story. Yet, Haerang viewed it as hopeful. He was young, relatively speaking, and a strong hunter. Forty years was manageable.

Secretly confident his family wouldn’t share Hyeon’s fate, Haerang had felt secure—until Hyeon’s gruff voice hit him like a blow.

“Honestly, I can’t help but envy you.”

Before Haerang could respond to the low, wistful remark, Hyeon abruptly grabbed his shoulder. To think he hadn’t even flinched despite Hyeon sitting so close—it was chilling to realize how skilled this old man truly was.

Then, in the moment Haerang was distracted by Hyeon, a loud crash shattered the air, forcing them both to recoil from one another—or at least, Hyeon tried to. He couldn’t, thanks to the black thorns that now surrounded and aimed at him from every angle.

“You bastard, who the hell are you? Are you one of Andras’s lackeys?”

“N-Noona!”

It all happened in an instant. The moment the glass shattered, Hyeon was ensnared by those mysterious black thorns before he could even react, let alone assume a combat stance. With each breath he took, the thorns encircling his torso pressed sharply into his skin, pricking it painfully.

It was a situation where he couldn’t move even a tenth of a millimeter. He tried to use Hollow Manipulation to interfere with the thorns threatening his vital points, but whatever they were made of seemed to repel his energy entirely.

Was it because he’d grown too accustomed to mana after his return? Initially, he’d been thrilled with the hybrid method he devised, blending mana and inner energy into a novel and unique approach. It was stable, more powerful, easier to control, and, above all, unmatched by anyone else.

But now, as he failed to seize control over a mere thorn no thicker than his forearm, regret pounded at his temples. Yet, regret wouldn’t resolve the crisis already upon him.

Forcing a neutral expression onto his face, Hyeon spoke in a low, measured tone.

“…What is the meaning of this?”

“You’re awfully casual for someone who doesn’t know me. Do you?”

“Baek Horang. Unlike your brother, you seem to lack basic manners.”

“My brother is polite, isn’t he?”

“…”

Hyeon deliberately compared her to her brother, hoping to provoke her, but Horang only acknowledged it with a smooth, unbothered expression.

My little one is kind, yes, very kind.

Horang nodded to herself, recalling how the candy shop owner had always doted on Haerang.

Horang’s composed attitude left Hyeon momentarily struggling to steady his breathing. Once calm, he attempted to reason with her again.

“I don’t know what’s driving you to act this way, but casting such a large-scale spell in a place under the watchful eye of the entire nation is no small matter. Are you hoping your precious brother will support you while you’re behind bars?”

“No one would dare arrest me. Unless they’re keen on dying.”

Her words brimmed with not just confidence but arrogance. Yet, Hyeon couldn’t be certain she was wrong.