The ground was soggy. Large and small swamps emitted a sticky, resin-like scent. The larger and wider the swamp, the paler its color; the smaller, the darker—so much so that the tiny ones brought to mind tar pits. Being a lower-rank dungeon, the swamps weren’t laced with poison or other toxic substances. In fact, the mud was clean and of good quality, and if I remembered correctly, it used to sell for quite a high price.

Still, mud was mud—feet sank easily, walking was a hassle, and your clothes would almost certainly get dirty. And while all that was happening, monsters would come splashing at you, so by the end of the raid, everyone without exception would look like they’d rolled around in a pigsty.

Not a single drop of muddy water had splashed onto Yuhyun’s hem.

-Kkuek!

-Guwek!

Large toads croaked noisily as willow leaves fluttered above them. The tips of his boots lightly stepped on the leaves floating low, almost touching the swamp. It looked like he was gliding over the water’s surface. There was no stumbling or sinking of legs.

Ka-ga-gak—a noise like solid scales striking one another rang out as the Sword of the Ruler changed form. On the previously smooth, jet-black blade, scale-like cracks appeared. Just like the skill’s name, it now resembled the long, thin tail of a reptile.

In an instant, the extended blade swept in a wide arc. The force of it alone made the swamp ripple, and the toads that had gathered together were cleanly sliced by the sharp edge. Yuhyun swung his arm wide and retrieved the whip-like blade. Charrr, the black sword returned to its original form.

“I’ll need a lot of practice.”

At my comment, my younger brother nodded.

“My movements keep getting too big. I should be able to change direction with just a flick of the wrist, but the way it is now, people will see right through where I’m aiming.”

“It’s not easy to get used to right away. And it’s not even a fixed length—you can adjust it, right?”

It wasn’t set to five meters or anything—it could change freely. Which meant he had to be able to handle it at any length. It was already a difficult type of sword to use. Even though it had a blade, its flexibility made it more like a whip than a typical flexible sword. A clumsy swing would just shred the weapon itself.

“With these monsters, I can’t even properly test out the paralysis skill.”

“They die just from being grazed. Anyway, the effects vary depending on the target’s grade, right? You’ll have to test it on an S-rank monster or Hunter.”

At my words, Yuhyun’s gaze drifted to Peace, who was carrying me. Sensing something, Peace let out a low growl.

“A Hunter would be better than a monster—they can clearly explain the skill’s effect in words.”

“Try asking Seonghan, since he’s defense type. Oh right, what skill did you buy?”

“A wide-range support type.”

“Huh? Support type?”

Yuhyun stepped toward me, treading on the willow leaves and finally setting foot on drier ground.

“Fire-attribute attack skills are cheap, but I don’t think I need any more. With my control improving, I can produce similar effects even without them.”

True, if you could manipulate fire with precision, you wouldn’t really need those minor fire-based attack skills. Shooting fire like arrows, weaponizing it, imbuing it into a weapon—those were all possible. Yerim likely didn’t need any more attribute-based offensive skills either, unless they came with a special additional effect.

“I didn’t feel much pull toward other offensive skills either. They cost a lot of points for their grade, but what really bothered me was how they dictated your movements. Support skills are one thing, but offensive skills make you move a certain way. Lately, that just… feels unpleasant.”

My brother said with a slight furrow of his brow. Sure, skills acquired through awakening are tied to your natural aptitude, but buying one with points is a different story. If you’ve never even touched a bow before, but suddenly become a sharpshooter overnight just because you bought a skill, it’d feel off. You’d wonder if it was really your own ability.

Getting free power might seem great, but for someone as sensitive as Yuhyun, it could be unsettling—especially if he was already pushing past the limits of ordinary skills.

“Yeah, support skills are good. You can’t always have a support-type Hunter around in battle. What about healing-type? Anything like that?”

“There was one, but it required way too many points. I guess it didn’t suit me.”

It didn’t seem like it did. He used to say he wanted to be a doctor when he was little, but now… well, he could probably disinfect wounds with fire.

“If it’s wide-range, is it similar to Yerim’s or Shishio’s skill? What is it? S-rank?”

“No, SS-rank. The Last Door, Melted Down.”

An SS-rank skill? That must’ve cost a fortune in points. Judging by the name, it sounded fire-based. Maybe he got a huge discount due to compatibility. When I asked, Yuhyun confirmed it had been relatively cheap for its rank.

“Still had to use up almost all my remaining points though.”

“You did well! It’s not like you’d use those points for anything else—better to spend them perfectly. What’s the effect?”

“Within range, all fire-attribute skill effects are increased by 20%. For designated targets, effects of non-fire-attribute skills are reduced by 20%. Melting or burning terrain within range accumulates stat boosts, and finally, it reduces the defense of metal and mineral-based materials.”

It’s a wide-range support skill that really pushes you to use flame-type abilities. It’s a bit of a shame that the debuff only applies to the target’s attribute skills, but still, that’s already a huge advantage. And there’s even a stat accumulation bonus. Since burning or melting the surroundings would happen naturally during battle, it’s practically an automatic stat boost. The final effect of reducing the defense of metals and minerals was also very good—monsters with those kinds of shells usually have especially high defense.

“That’s seriously amazing. With that, even dungeons that don’t match your element should be way easier to clear.”

“Yeah. I thought it was the best skill among the ones I could afford with points.”

“You picked well, seriously! But why didn’t you use it in Japan?”

“There was no need to. And if I’d used it against people, the skill’s effect would’ve been exposed.”

True enough. Monsters can’t talk, after all. And for this kind of area-based support skill…

“You can nullify another area-based support skill with yours.”

“Nullify it?”

Yuhyun tilted his head, looking puzzled. It was clearly the first time he’d heard of it. Understandable, since wide-range support skills were rare, and nullifying them was notoriously difficult. It wasn’t until the third ranking match that people even found out about it.

“If you just use them normally, they stack on top of each other. But if you deliberately make the magic of the skills clash and mix, they nullify each other. You need exceptional mana control to do it, though.”

“Ah… come to think of it, there are times when offensive skills cancel each other out when they directly collide, though it’s extremely rare.”

“Technically, any skill can be nullified by a similar skill. But doing it on purpose is practically impossible. Still, for wide-range support skills… what was it again, they said it’s because they’re built on a stabilized structure, kind of like a formation or something, so it’s possible to deliberately nullify them.”

I don’t remember the details. Anyway, it was ridiculously difficult, so I hadn’t bothered telling Yerim. There wasn’t anyone to practice it with either. But that had changed now. At my words, Yuhyun nodded seriously.

“Try practicing with Yerim. In most cases, stacking the skills would be better than nullifying them, but if the opponent’s skill is too strong, mutual nullification is more effective. If your control’s good enough, you can even cancel out a skill one rank higher than yours.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to Park Yerim. The monsters are too weak now, so there’s no need to keep testing the sword—I’ll just finish them off in one go. You’re using Grace, right?”

“Yeah. It’s not an issue anymore. Myungwoo confirmed the new skill. If it’s SS-rank level, it should protect me for a whole week.”

Grace’s new skill: Fountain of Young Mana. It wasn’t like a mana hole that could endlessly generate mana. Like an actual fountain, it had limits.

With S-rank, it lasted a month. SS-rank, a week. SSS-rank, twenty-four hours. L-rank and above weren’t precisely measured, but roughly half a day, and Myth-rank could last around an hour. But they also said if you overused it at Myth-rank, it could actually damage the fountain itself, so caution was advised.

As long as no Transcendent got involved, SS-rank was more than enough, effectively removing any time limitation. On top of that, I could finally say goodbye to mana potions.

“Don’t hold back. Just sweep them all away.”

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here quickly.”

Yuhyun turned with a smile. The blue willow leaves spread across the swamp once more. His figure quickly receded into the distance. Instead of drawing his sword, flames wrapped around his feet and rose upward. Ordinary red flames turned into a deep indigo hue.

-Kkueeek!

An unusually large toad leapt into the air. Muddy water splashed high, but none of it touched Yuhyun. The flames devoured the water instantly and spread out. The swamp boiled, and the dense trees and bushes ignited in flames.

I blinked slowly as I watched the scene. That flame would never turn completely black again. And it mustn’t.

‘…Still no message.’

I’d hoped, but there was no message from Rookie. Had the Changeling’s protection even blocked system interference? If so, I had no idea when communication would be possible again.

…Telling Yuhyun the truth as well.

‘It’s not a relief that it’s been delayed.’

How long was I planning to put it off? Once we left the dungeon—then what? No, I’d already decided I would tell him. No matter what Rookie said, at least to Yuhyun. I’d promised myself I’d tell my brother, no matter what happened. Whether I could meet Rookie again or not didn’t matter.

I was going to tell him.

The heat-drenched swamp rapidly dried up. Peace spread his wings and gently lifted off the ground. From the center’s largest swamp, the boss monster—a crocodile—emerged, but it was immediately consumed by the flames. The swamp transformed into a barren wasteland, and the gate appeared. Once the fire faded, Peace descended to the ground again.

“It’s over, hyung.”

As Yuhyun approached, I climbed down from Peace’s back. My leg buckled. It gave out hard and clearly.

“Hyung!”

-Khrrng.

Yuhyun’s face instantly filled with concern. Peace also turned to me, as if asking if I was okay.

“Are you really alright? It’s the same leg again!”

“Yuhyun.”

“Let’s go to the hospital and get it checked. If it hurts without an injury, that’s even more—”

“I was injured.”

Yuhyun’s eyes went wide. Then his expression turned fierce.

“When. Who did it.”

“Three years in the future.”

“…What?”

“Well, maybe not exactly three years. More like two years and… anyway, a few years into the future.”

I looked down as I watched my confused younger brother. My throat stung slightly on the inside.

“I got hurt pretty badly. Even after it healed, I was left with a limp. I’m fine now. Because it didn’t actually happen. But maybe because my head remembers it, it still hurts a little, and I still limp.”

“What… are you saying. That’s…”

“…It was five years in the future.”

After saying that, I couldn’t speak any further. All I could see was the scorched, blackened earth. My insides probably looked just like it.

“Don’t say it.”

“…Yuhyun.”

“If it’s something you’re struggling to get out, then I don’t want to hear it.”

His voice came out firm and unwavering. But the moment Yuhyun refused to listen, my mouth began to move on its own.

“I have to say it. If I just keep it buried, it’ll rot inside me.”

“Then, if it’s for me, I won’t listen. I’ll just pretend I heard it. But if it’s for you, hyung—if it’s a story for your sake—then please tell me.”

A story for me, huh. I tried to calmly gather the words I wanted to say.

“You want to know what I’ve been hiding, don’t you?”

“Yeah. But it’s okay if I don’t. You don’t have to tell me everything.”

I took a deep breath. The one thing I most wanted to say—for my own sake.

“You died saving me, Yuhyun.”

More than anything else.

“…You died? You son of a bitch.”

My eyes welled up with heat. My throat tightened, but I didn’t choke. Instead, my voice grew louder.

“It was a trap, but you walked right in! You—you! Five years from now, you were the best in Haeyeon. You were seriously the top Hunter of them all. And then you just went and died!”

“Hyung.”

“You died. And then an item came out. A Wish Stone, it said it could grant anything. But it couldn’t bring back the dead…”

The Unfilial Children had tricked me. My grip on Yuhyun’s clothes tightened.

“So I turned back time. Remember? The day we got caught by Haeyeon when we went to meet the Awakening Broker. That day—I came back to that day.”

“Yeah. Of course I remember.”

“I had an unusual skill, I knew a lot about Hunters and monsters, and the Unfilial Children approached me—everything, all of it, was because I regressed. I came back to the past, and… that’s all thanks to you, Yuhyun. Because of you…”

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. But that Han Yuhyun—that younger brother—no longer existed in this world. My tongue felt numb. I couldn’t say another word. My whole body turned cold, like I’d been thrown into a frozen snowfield.

I raised my head, trembling slightly. Through my blurred vision, I saw Yuhyun smiling.

“Thank you, hyung.”

His voice was filled with warmth and contentment.

“For coming back to me.”

“…Yuhyun, you…”

“I mean it. And that’s enough. More than enough.”

All the strength drained from my body. Yuhyun held me close, as if supporting me.

“Are you happy I came back?”

“Yeah, so much. Saving you was a given, but honestly… I hated the thought of leaving you alone.”

As I listened to those words, I remembered the younger brother who had smiled at me. The face of someone with no regrets, like he had done everything he needed to do. It wasn’t hard to guess the difference. That version of him had completely let go of being with me. He’d repressed his own desires until they vanished entirely.

I pulled him into a tight hug.

“…Yeah. So don’t go dying first again. Not a second time.”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t just try—make sure of it.”

“Got it, hyung. Still, to think turning back time was actually possible. That’s why you changed so suddenly. And all the other weird things—it was because you knew the future.”

Yuhyun looked genuinely pleased. Almost a little excited. I smiled back at him. For now, this much was enough. I’d taken a couple steps forward and stopped. Now, it was time to tell Seong Hyunjae as well.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep