Chapter 48: Utterly useless

As soon as he plunged back beneath the surface, Cheon Areum channeled the last reserves of his core energy. Black threads lashed around his limbs like living whips, shoving the water aside in violent bursts and rocketing him downward faster than any human body should move. His arms elongated with a wet, ripping sound; fingers fused and sharpened into obsidian claws, each talon curved and razor-edged, glinting violet-black in the faint glow of his own energy. His wet wings snapped open like switchblades, slicing through water with minimal resistance.

The first fish-head never saw him coming. Cheon Areum’s claws raked across its eyeless face in a single, brutal swipe—gills splitting open in a spray of pale blood that bloomed instantly into crimson clouds. The creature convulsed once, mouth gaping in silent shock, then drifted limp as he kicked past it. Another lunged from the side; he twisted mid-stroke, one bony wing slashing upward like a guillotine. The fish-head’s neck opened in a perfect arc—head tumbling free, body twitching in slow spirals toward the depths.

Piece after piece began to float upward. Severed gills. Torn fins. Pale, eyeless heads bobbing like macabre buoys. The water darkened rapidly—first pink, then deep rose, then full arterial red.

Every fish-head that darted into his path met the same fate: claws carving through cartilage, wings slicing through sinew, energy threads lashing out to pull severed chunks apart before they could reassemble or call for more. The army above thinned in seconds—hundreds becoming dozens, dozens becoming scattered survivors fleeing in panicked zigzags.

But the four wall-fish were different. They were too massive—each one the size of a small building, pale flesh rippling like living marble, eyes tracking him independently while the army died around them. Their mouths opened in unison, revealing glowing blue throats that pulsed with lure-light. The current shifted again—sucking inward, pulling at his legs, trying to drag him into those endless gullets.

Low on oxygen, Cheon Areum quickly used his cards on the last remaining bosses and came out of the water. He hauled himself upward in one pull until his chest cleared the water, his other hand still clutching the three spent spade aces, which shot to his mouth. Teeth clamped down on the cards’ edges; he ripped them all at once in a single tear.

With one last heave, Cheon Areum dragged himself higher. The rock crumbled under his talons in gritty cascades; his torn forearm screamed with every pull, blood slicking the hold, but he refused to slip. He hooked one leg over a wider ledge—muscle trembling—then rolled sideways onto solid ground with a wet, heavy thud. The impact punched the last air from his lungs; he lay flat on his back for several long, shuddering seconds, chest rising and falling in shallow, rattling bursts. Black energy threads flickered weakly around his claws like dying embers—violet sparks guttering out one by one—before fading entirely.

The essences poured through his veins like liquid fire, searing every nerve pathway from sternum to fingertips. His skin flushed hot, then scalding; sweat beaded instantly across his brow, his chest, the back of his neck. The permanent bite mark on his nape flared white-hot—old scar tissue protesting the sudden influx—before settling into a deep, throbbing burn. He endured it. Teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached; claws dug into the stone on either side of him until rock dust puffed between his fingers. His vision whited out at the edges—black spots dancing—then snapped back sharper, colors too vivid: the crimson lake below glittering like fresh arterial spray.

After what felt like forever, but was probably only thirty seconds, the fire peaked—and began to recede. He coughed once—harsh, wet—then again. A thick gout of lake water mixed with blood sprayed from his lips, spattering the stone in dark, glistening arcs. He wiped his mouth with the back of one claw—obsidian talon streaked red-black—then spat again, clearing the copper-salt taste from his tongue. The essences settled at last—coiling deep in his core with his own energy.

“You’re useless even as an offering….”

Noticing the presence behind him as he faced the bloody water, he spoke out, and a soft exhale answered him—half laugh, half sigh. Kihyun immediately spoke afterward, crouching down beside him.

“I’m sorry. I’m not planning to be useful for you.”

Kihyun lazily brushed a finger over the fresh wound on Cheon Areum’s arm, scraping at it without care. Cheon Areum slapped his hand away immediately.

“Don’t touch me.”

“You’re bleeding.”

Kihyun said, as if stating something Cheon Areum wasn’t already painfully aware of. Propping himself up with his arms, Cheon Areum paused, drawing in a few steady breaths. He needed a moment before standing again—but the moment his eyes landed on Kihyun, that patience evaporated. He wanted out of this dungeon as soon as possible.

At that moment, Kihyun took advantage of Cheon Areum’s momentary stillness—the way exhaustion had slowed his reflexes, dulled the sharp edge of his instincts. He moved fast, silent, one hand sliding to the back of Cheon Areum’s neck while the other cupped his jaw with surprising gentleness. Fingers pressed into damp, blood-streaked skin; thumbs bracketed the sharp line of cheekbones. Cheon Areum’s breath hitched—half protest, half surprise—but he was too drained to react fast enough. Kihyun held his gaze for a single, suspended second. Dark eyes searched red-rimmed ones—taking in the smeared blood on his lips, the faint tremor in his lashes.

Then Kihyun closed the distance. He pressed their lips together, which met in a kiss that started careful, almost tentative—Kihyun’s mouth warm against the cold, metallic taste of lake water and blood still clinging to Cheon Areum’s. One hand tightened at the nape forcefully, fingers threading into wet hair and tilting Cheon Areum’s head just enough to deepen the angle.

The other slid down to rest over his racing pulse—thumb pressing lightly against the frantic flutter there, feeling every erratic beat. Cheon Areum’s claws flexed against Kihyun’s sides as he attacked him with the intent to take off his neck, but he swiftly dodged to the side.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep