I blinked. My head throbbed as if I’d taken a hard hit, but I didn’t really feel anything. It was like being half-drunk on anesthetics.

“Are you doing this on purpose right now?”

My voice came out surprisingly calm.

“Because the Transcendents are targeting you? If you’re saying that kind of thing just to push me away—”

Seong Hyeonje didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at me with a strangely fabricated pity, the kind you’d show a child or something small and helpless. I closed my mouth. My chest tightened, and I had to open it again. My mind spat out words before I could stop it. They weren’t what I wanted to say.

“…You wouldn’t waste your time on something so predictable. You know I’d only resist harder if you tried to shove me away out of concern.”

A cold act just to push me off? That kind of cheap trick didn’t suit Seong Hyeonje. Then why—? My mouth went dry. His detached, unnervingly calm gaze was hard to meet.

“I admit I got careless. I made mistakes. Honestly, I… don’t really know how to fix this.”

“That’s no longer your concern, Han Yujin.”

“Right now, I—!”

My raised voice choked off mid-sentence. Strength kept draining from my limbs. I didn’t even have the energy—or the right—to grab him by the collar and demand answers. At some point my eyes dropped to the floor. No way. But he was someone who could turn his back at any time. Maybe everyone else who’d dealt with him had felt this same way—trust tangled with doubt.

I was dizzy. I stepped back a little. Seong Hyeonje simply watched me. For a moment, I had the urge to run.

…I’m not special.

There was no reason for him to keep looking only at me. When he lost interest, he could leave any time, just as he had with others. It wouldn’t even be strange if this was that moment. That was the kind of person he’d always been. Honestly, I’d been expecting it all along.

A dull sadness spread through me. Amid the emptiness, a quiet voice inside urged me to escape. If I turned around, opened the door, and walked out right now, maybe I could still be comforted.

“……”

It had just come, as it always would.

“…No. I—”

I lifted my head again. His quiet golden eyes hurt to look at.

“Even so… I still think you’re a good person, Seong Hyeonje.”

Instead of running, I spoke. Maybe I doubted him—maybe I was even a little afraid—but we’d shared too many moments until now.

“And… I think I’m an exception.”

My trembling fingers clenched tight.

“We’ve been through so much together. I don’t know what you think, but… I can think that much, can’t I? That—it’s special.”

My throat burned. I wondered if I looked pathetic saying all this, but the words still came out.

“I have that right… don’t I?”

I took a deep breath that filled my chest until it hurt.

“And I believe you think so too, Seong Hyeonje.”

The moment I finished, self-loathing flooded in. I didn’t even know what I’d just said. Before the silence could crush me, his voice came.

“Yes.”

It flowed out slowly.

“I used to like you very much, Han Yujin.”

…Past tense. I clenched my fists so hard my palms stung, just to stop myself from breaking.

“That’s why I buried it.”

“…Buried it? What do you mean—”

“I’m tired. Worn down.”

His words came out like an old poem.

“Life was long and tedious, and the death I was meant to meet slipped away along with forgotten memories. I kept on living anyway, but because of that, I longed for the end—to finish it as my true self.”

The golden eyes curved slightly, a faint smile tracing his lips.

“But, Han Yujin… I found joy again. I was excited—truly. Like a child. And a child full of joy doesn’t think of dying. It just looks forward to the time flowing by and the tomorrow that’s coming.”

“…Then what?”

I’d felt it too. When I’d met the Seong Hyeonje from before the regression, I’d realized how different this one was. He looked younger now, more alive, as if he were genuinely living again.

“That’s why,” he said, pressing his long fingers lightly to his chest.

“The ‘me’ that wants to live will not die. Even if I can’t fully control the power I’ve accumulated, it’s still mine—bound to my will. The Crescent Moon hid me, nearly full, for that very reason.”

“So you mean… you wanted to accept death?”

“Even with forced immortality, if I collapse before the moon is full, I’d become just another monster, not a new Source as the Crescent Moon desires. The more exhausted I grew, the more cautious it had to be.”

To prevent cracks before completion. After so many worlds piled up, finding another being who could endure all that and remain whole must’ve been nearly impossible.

The more he accumulated, the closer he came to immortality—but the more unstable he became.

“But then it changed.”

“…The Crescent Moon?”

If it had noticed—no, because it noticed—it had made me kill Seong Hyeonje. Even amid the Transcendents’ interference, he could now reach fullness as the complete moon.

His eyes, holding a soundless smile, turned toward me.

“By burying my feelings for you, I recovered my longing for the death that had become unreachable.”

A sharp pain lanced through me. The situation that forced him to go that far hurt—and so did the fact that I had driven him to it. But in a strange way, I was glad. I hadn’t been wrong.

“How…?”

“There was the me before the regression. I learned a lot from him. I brought him to the surface and stepped back—to deceive the Crescent Moon.”

“…Because the Seong Hyeonje before regression still wanted an ending.”

“Having the current me directly join the Transcendents’ game would’ve been too risky.”

There was no way the Crescent Moon hadn’t been watching. It must’ve been confused—that’s probably why it hadn’t meddled directly during the wager.

“I also practiced dividing myself. Everything accumulated is me, but it can also be separated. Thanks to that, I was able to set aside only my feelings for you.”

“Then…”

“The memories remain, but those moments no longer affect me emotionally.”

I met his eyes head-on. The man standing before me was the same Seong Hyeonje I’d first met after the regression—calm, detached, with only mild curiosity.

“Why didn’t you tell me… No, I suppose you couldn’t have. But still…”

I had been linked to the Crescent Moon. Still, this—

“I have no reason to spare your feelings, Han Yujin,” he said flatly.

“If you’d turned away, that would’ve been the end.”

No explanation. Just that.

“But ‘I’ didn’t want it to end that way.”

“…You didn’t?”

“So I followed your will instead. Think back—me, small and powerless, doing whatever you led me to. The complete opposite of how it used to be.”

After he’d yielded his body to the pre-regression version of himself, he’d really done that. He’d followed my lead, supported me, helped me. Even after entering the dream world, he rarely took initiative—he’d let me lead.

Maybe that was why, despite his cold words and eyes, I never ran. Because in that time, Seong Hyeonje had trusted me and followed me.

“If we’d succeeded, that would’ve been fine too. But we failed.”

Hearing him say “failed” so plainly still stung. He really was different now.

“Then what are you going to do?”

“The fact that the Crescent Moon revealed me means it believes I’ll live no matter what happens. But I’ve regained death.”

A chill crept up my spine.

“It plans to pour all its energy into me so I can devour and absorb everything I’ve accumulated. The odds of success aren’t low.”

“…And if you fail?”

“Then I’ll finally meet the end I should’ve long ago.”

His gaze flicked briefly toward Song Taewon, who stood silent beside us. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“You’re saying you’ll die? That’s your plan?!”

I grabbed him by the collar. The fabric wrinkled, but he didn’t move an inch.

“You said you wanted to live!”

“This is me trying to live as myself.”

I let out a harsh breath. A sudden thought struck me—that I had no solution either. But still—

“Director Song! What about you!”

I released Seong Hyeonje’s collar and turned toward him. I hurried to stand before him. His dark, steady eyes looked down at me.

“You know you can’t survive this either! Why would you—again—!”

“Han Yujin, you’re a kind person,” he said softly, his deep voice heavy but gentle.

“And I was drawn to that.”

“Then why! You said you’d build a school—you said you’d help people in other ways! And…”

I wanted him to live without hurting himself anymore.

“Yes. Perhaps because you kept calling me human, I dipped my fingertips into a brief dream. But this is my duty.”

“There’s no duty that demands your life!”

“And yet I can’t abandon him.”

A faint smile curved Song Taewon’s lips.

“It’s a cursed tie. But I did depend on it. Guildmaster Seoseong once said you and I are life and death. It’s similar for me. Seong Hyeonje kept me human, and you pulled me forward to walk away from him.”

“…I, I never—”

His dark eyes closed slowly, then opened.

“I could move forward as I am. But I still hesitate.”

His gaze shifted to Seong Hyeonje.

“I want him to stay whole. My pre-regression self must’ve felt the same.”

“…Director Song.”

“I’ll try to release him again this time. But if it’s impossible, I hope he protects himself.”

His voice faltered, then continued quietly.

“I want to protect him.”

“Director Song likes me very much,” Seong Hyeonje said with a small laugh. Song Taewon looked at me tenderly, emotion deep in his eyes.

“And I want you to be safe, Han Yujin.”

“I…”

“Think me a fool for not breaking free.”

Perhaps, true to his original purpose, Song Taewon felt at peace with it. Accepting his fate, maybe he could finally be free from the self-hatred that had tormented him.

“It’s not the same.”

I swallowed hard against the tightness in my throat.

“You said it yourself—you’re protecting him. That’s not the same as the Source’s purpose in creating the Eclipse. You’re still you, Director Song. Truly, until the very end.”

“Thank you.”

He shook his head. Despite his words, I wanted to stop him—tie him down if I had to. But I couldn’t think of a way.

The Crescent Moon revealed Seong Hyeonje because it believed he’d live. And he, knowing that, prepared for his will to suppress itself if he died. It would’ve been safer for him to erase his feelings for me from the start. But he’d given me a chance—and I’d failed.

He wasn’t trying to die. He was trying to protect himself.

It wasn’t my place to interfere.

“The Crescent Moon may target you too, but it’ll focus on me first. That should give us an opening.”

“I’ll help.”

I met his eyes.

“Even if I don’t have a plan.”

I took a step forward. I was still exhausted, still empty-headed. But one thing was clear. In the deepest darkness, it shone even brighter.

“I like you both. So I can’t help it.”

There’s no rational answer to that. I like you—so what am I supposed to do?

Seong Hyeonje stared at me quietly, then smiled.

“I value myself very much.”

“I know that perfectly well.”

“And I don’t easily discard parts of myself.”

“What are you—wait, don’t tell me—”

Parts of himself. The feelings he had for me. His golden eyes softened.

“If I come to trust and rely on you again, those buried emotions will return.”

“…Wait—no, hold on! You’re telling me to do the same thing all over again?! Trust and rely? Did you even really do that before?”

“The memories remain. That should make it easier. Even if the feelings are gone, I still recognize your worth, rationally.”

“Don’t score my life like it’s a test! Fine—so you’re saying I just have to find another way, right?”

“Something like that.”

“Don’t laugh—it’s annoying!”

Even as I yelled, the tension drained from me. I almost wanted to cry. Damn him—he really did trust me after all. Even if this ridiculous contingency plan made me furious, that was just the kind of person he was. I cleared my throat, trying to steady my expression.

“Anyway, we’re heading back to Seoul. Come down. I’ll go first—if we go together, it’ll look suspicious.”

As I turned toward the door, his hand grabbed my shoulder. Rougher than usual. His voice was low.

“Don’t let # Nоvеlight # your guard down.”

“…As if I would.”

I shook off his hand and left the room. Rubbing my face, I went down the stairs—and there was Yunyun.

“Captain Kim! I’m here!”

“You all right?”

Yuhyun stepped forward, asking before I could.

“Yeah. Guildmaster Seoseong’s fine too.”

Yuhyun probably didn’t care, but my brother’s eyes stayed on me—sharp, searching.

“We’ll head to Seoul and regroup.”

Even if it was just within this dream, I needed to go home and think things through. There was still time. There was still a chance.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep