“As promised, we won’t spare any support.” “So capture the fake Guild Master Sesung, Isabella, and Samir—and expose the truth.” They needed to correct the rumors and photos circulating on SNS about Sesung Guild Master’s engagement. For now, anyone claiming she’d marry the real Guild Master would be dismissed as nonsense—she wasn’t the first to stake such a claim. “And if Song Taewon and Han Yujin die in the process, all the better.” [We have no intention of killing Han Yujin.] The Prophet’s voice came through the comm. [He’s a crucial sacrifice linking us to the outside.] “It doesn’t matter. Just eliminate him—so long as it’s done before my wedding.” Her only concern was that the ceremony proceed flawlessly. What happened afterward—dungeon worshippers ranting or rioting—was none of her concern. [Han Yujin must be somewhere in Africa—likely Northeast Africa. We’re narrowing the search area; Bride-to-be, please monitor escape routes.] “All right. Relay that.” After a few more words, the call ended. In the silent room, there was a sharp thunk as Mari kicked the table leg. Mari grumbled, her face puffed with annoyance, twisting a braid between her fingers as she stood. “A princess shouldn’t be doing this.” Normally, a princess endured some trials, then dressed prettily for her wedding and waited. But not now. “It’s so villainous—like a wicked witch.” She was kidnapping the prince, imprisoning him, then wiping out those who tried to interrupt her wedding. Mari ground her teeth—then smoothed her cheeks with both hands. “No, it’s fine. Times have changed. These days, princesses take initiative! If the world has changed, we must follow suit. And isn’t it better to choose rather than be chosen? If he displeases me, I can dump him!” Yes, it was acceptable now. She steadied her pounding heart and strode forward swiftly yet gracefully. ‘Hayul still doesn’t know.’ Her force ability was weaker than a mid-level hunter’s, yet Park Hayul wasn’t someone she could treat lightly. So she’d fed him false information about Han Yujin to lure him elsewhere. ‘Princess Isabella—of all things!’ She had to act before it was too late. The easiest path would be to present the real Seong Hyunjae. Mari paused before the sunlit indoor garden. A mountain of luxurious gift boxes lay there; before lavender hydrangeas stood a full-length mirror, and on a white table lay catalogs. And there sat Seong Hyunjae. His wounds healed, dressed in pristine formal wear, his eyes bright. Mari stared in a trance as he flipped catalog pages with languid fingers. “Only dull things here.” The nervous attendants bit their lips. Seong Hyunjae had never harmed a non-awakened person—but his mere indifference cowered them like prey before a predator. Mari stepped into the garden. “I’m your top exhibit.” Mari clenched her gown’s hem—but relaxed her hand. He was the perfect prince, yet in just a few days since awakening she felt a crack in her heart. He was impossibly picky—and yet so deserving of such care. She couldn’t simply demand they do less. “Savoir-faire before brand.” Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩·𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢·𝔫𝔢𝔱 “Such disappointment.” Seong Hyunjae closed the catalog. With a slight gesture he dismissed them; the attendants scattered, carrying goods out. Mari let out a small sigh. “You still won’t show yourself?” “I said I’d consider it once everything for the wedding is perfect,” he replied. But his gaze never softened on the ceremony or preparations. She had thought to sneak a photo—but his power prevented it. Though restrained, he wasn’t fully subdued. Without his cooperation, proving she was his fiancée to the world would be impossible. “...At least you didn’t refuse outright.” Mari forced a smile. Seong Hyunjae half-listened, flexing an ankle bound by invisible chains. “The ceremony itself must suit my tastes.” He wanted perfection. His golden eyes softened ever so slightly. Two very important guests would arrive soon—undoubtedly. She would prepare with her whole heart. “Lucky I have two hands.” She could endure this for the pleasure it brought. For days she’d slumbered half-awake. Fatigue overwhelmed her, but her fever did not worsen. Though worried, the list of names on the “Influence Window” remained unchanged. It would be helpful to know more than just names and ranks—perhaps injury status. “Are you really okay, Father?” Gyeol, who had nursed her so diligently, furrowed her brow. Fortunately, Gyeol seemed well, treating her illness as no more than a bad cold. When she could sit up, they played board games and made Christmas cards together. “Yes, I’m much better. I can’t leave yet, but I should prepare soon.” They’d placed Christmas ornaments outside as decoys; airport guards might notice. It would be safer to wait until she could truly flee. A sudden cat appearance would be suspicious. “Did you finish all the cards?” “Yes. They’re safely in my inventory.” Gyeol smiled widely and stretched. She wanted to rush out, but she’d been immobile. Her body could just about move—best to leave looking unharmed. “I’ll go to the basement for a moment.” “It’s where Ruga’s relics are. I want to check them before we leave.” She’d yet to retrieve a single item. The basement storage was high security; she couldn’t bring outsiders. Alone, she descended with #71, searching the display. Among the many artifacts she found what she needed. An item revealing a target’s condition. She swallowed and activated it on herself. Mana flowed over her; then a spear appeared: Escape Potential: None No other status anomalies Estimated Survival: 30–35 days] So she hadn’t caught a disease—thankfully. Nonetheless, her condition was dire. She barely believed it. Only 30–35 days left? Way too little. She stared at the spear’s faint glow, a strange ache in her chest. “I thought I could... accept this.” Her sister’s death—and her own fate. She wanted to accept it and live out her days normally. Five years had felt short, but a month was absurdly cruel. “...Well, it was bound to be significant.” Nearly becoming the Harmless King must have taxed her body. With Chat Erbox gone, the system mark burden remained. Looking back, a month seemed more than she feared. ‘I can’t quite grasp it.’ There must be other options. Even my father wouldn’t want me to die. And—I did have one plan. I’m not sure it will succeed, but I thought of it. The elders might refuse—but they’d be angry. She set the item down. She considered taking one artifact—but stopped. The weight still drained her. “I wanted to live, not just for the kids’ sake.” Then her thoughts veered: Lunar New Year—she had to survive past that. And... she could still attend Seong Hyunjae’s wedding. Perhaps that was fortunate. She shook off the heavy mood. There were options—this item might be wrong. She could venture into a dungeon and meet the new and old. Breathing deeply, she turned to #71. “How’s this drawer’s charge? I worry I drained it too much...” “It has been recharged recently.” “By the influence of Ruga the Relic’s power in your world.” “Thank you, Ruga the Relic! A final gift!” “And your spatial dominion has slightly increased.” “Really? Maybe one day I’ll manage it directly.” Whether she’d live to see that remained to be seen. She banished extraneous thoughts. At least there was good news. Ascending upstairs, she began preparations with Gyeol. “Should we put blankets in the car? Gyeol can drive, too—if I teach her. You don’t have a license, after all.” As they packed supplies into the car, Gyeol spoke. No, Gyeol—please, not that. She did technically have driving experience... with accidents, yes, but some. After two more days of light exercise, they left the drawer. Both cat-formed, they stepped onto the dry, sandy ground. Dawn was just breaking; the sky was pale. The ruined buildings and battle scars remained. A sword was planted in the sand. A dark greatsword. Before it—and the gray wind-whipped cloak—sat a familiar back. She sensed it hadn’t been just a day or two; his hair tousled, he turned his head, a bright smile blooming across his face. Yuhyun sprang up and rushed to her. Hyun-ah. Gyeol unfolded her wings and fluttered up. Yuhyun gently lifted her. Spots of blood speckled her cheeks and clothes. “I was so relieved you were here. I’m glad I waited on Director Song’s word.” ...The letters had reached him. When would she emerge? Her throat tightened; she couldn’t speak. She returned to human form swiftly. Yuhyun set her down, gazing at Gyeol circling above. “The white cat was a fairy steed.” “Still fairy steed? Gyeol, Han-gyeol.” –Gyeol cared for Father, Uncle. She hopped to perch on her shoulder, proud. Yuhyun formally thanked her. Could they please be more affectionate? “How many days were you here? Are you hurt anywhere?” “No. There were a few ambushes, but I’m fine.” “Fine, she says! And the others? Oh, Cho Hwa-un was here, too!” “They’re all safe. You know, hyung—” Yuhyun looked down at her with soft eyes. “For not giving up on me. I had to say it.” Her sister smiled. Memories of before the Return—yes, Yuhyun remembered, too. She’d worried the others would be harmed; but— “How could I give up on you? You’re my sister. I could never... give up.” Her eyes stung with emotion. Yuhyun flustered, blurting excuses. “I know you went through so much. Sorry. I’m glad you never let me go—that made me happy.” She took Yuhyun’s hand and looked down at her. “Yuhyun, you’re happy, right?” Her sister hugged her gently. She smelled faintly of brimstone and dust. “So I didn’t mind the wait. I enjoyed it. I was guarding the place you’d return to. And now I can greet you with a smile.” “...Yes—that’s enough. I love you for that.” “Hyung. You were really... suffering, right?” “Yes. But I’m okay now. If you think of me with gratitude, that’s enough.” If only it had been so. If my struggles had comforted her. Though so changed, if she’d felt that— She wiped a tear, stepping back awkwardly. Rin hopped over to her and blurted out: –Hyung! Rin missed you too! Hi, Gyeol! –I need to grow up fast to speak freely! I was so frustrated! “Yes—I missed you too, Rin. Where are the others?” “They split up. To prevent you leaving Africa, they blocked every flight.” –They even tried to stop and destroy regular passenger planes! They were insane—but then, worshippers would not care about civilian lives. Even before the Return, they were notorious terrorists. “So I decided not to approach the airport; I’d show myself openly instead.” “...I guess I rested too long.” “No, hyung. Let’s move—turn into cats.” “All right. Do we have a vehicle? Should I fetch it?” “Yes. The bike was wrecked.” They retrieved the car from the drawer and returned to human form. Yuhyun carried her into the car—though she could have sat beside her. “She must have thought you were likely where I was—so she assaulted the place for days.” Driving off, Yuhyun said, “But since I didn’t budge and you didn’t appear, now she only sends drones to check.” –Uncle, ask Father if he’s eaten. “I brought plenty of dungeon rations.” –Tell him Dad’s angry. “Nutrition’s fine, hyung.” But how could one survive on that alone—out of a dungeon, with no real food! A drone swooped overhead. Yuhyun, one hand on the wheel, fired a slender flaming dart. The drone popped and fell. “I’ll be right behind you—stay ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) close, hyung.” As Yuhyun had said, the bike’s roar came behind them—almost simultaneously, “Hey! Han Yuhyun! No need to answer—got it well enough!” Yerim’s brisk voice joined heavy footsteps. Yerim! But... Park Yerim, astride Peace’s back, coat tattered, gripped a massive axe aloft. She’d grown wilder in their time apart. At least she looked healthy.