Chapter 21

Chapter 21.

"It's a miracle."

The attending professor set down the chart and shook his head.

"There's no medical explanation for this. The nerves, the muscles...... it's as if they're regenerating, growing back from scratch."

The medical staff had estimated a minimum rehabilitation period of one year.

Even then, they said walking without an assistive device would be impossible.

But Park Hayan was standing on her own two feet, having climbed down from the bed.

"Any pain?"

"None. Not a bit."

Park Hayan wiggled her toes.

An unfamiliar sensation.

But it was unmistakably hers.

The medical staff filed out of the room, murmuring in amazement.

After they left, Park Hayan reached out toward the empty air.

"Thank you."

Empty air where no one stood.

But her eyes could see them.

Tiny clusters of light, twinkling like fireflies.

They clung to her legs, gently caressing her wounds.

'I thought they were ghosts.'

She had seen them ever since she was very young.

Black specks drifting through the air.

It terrified her.

She had believed it was a curse visible only to her.

Especially that day. The day the plane crashed.

When those black specks enveloped her, she was certain they were grim reapers coming to drag her to the afterlife.

But they weren't.

They had been protecting her.

From the shredding fuselage debris, from the crushing pressure.

Surviving alone hadn't been luck. It was thanks to their desperate protection.

Ding!

[Name: Park Hayan]

[Level: 1]

[Class: One Beloved by Spirits]

Awakening.

When she came to from the anesthesia after surgery, a blue window had appeared before her eyes.

Only then did she understand.

That she was different from everyone else.

And that these little ones were beings called 'spirits.'

'It's all thanks to him.'

Kim Jeong-seok.

A benefactor whose face she had never seen.

The letter he sent had unlatched the bolt on a heart that had been firmly shut.

The words telling her she was not alone.

The encouragement to survive.

That warmth had opened her heart, and when her heart opened, the spirits answered.

Park Hayan opened the drawer.

Dozens of thank-you letters she had sent to Kim Jeong-seok over the years.

There had been no replies.

She hadn't expected any.

Simply conveying her gratitude had been enough.

But this morning.

A reply had arrived, as if by miracle.

[I'm glad to hear the surgery was successful.I always knew you would pull through.
Now walk freely, run, and enjoy the world to its fullest.]

Short, concise sentences.

But Park Hayan's gaze lingered on the postscript below.

[P.S.: An uninvited guest will visit your dreams before long. A being cloaked in darkness will extend its hand and try to force a contract upon you. Do not be afraid. When it appears, look it straight in the eyes and recite the incantation I am about to tell you.]

After that, a sentence resembling an incantation was written.

It was as though he saw right through the fact that she had become a spirit arts user, and everything that would happen next.

'What an extraordinary person.'

How could he possibly know?

But no suspicion arose in her.

He was the savior who had rescued her life, her very existence.

"I'll remember it no matter what."

Park Hayan pressed the letter to her chest.

She clutched it tight like a precious talisman and lay down on the bed.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

Whether it was the medication or the spirits' lullaby, sleep overtook her in an instant.

***

CRASH-RUMBLE!

Thunder.

No—it was the sound of a plane engine blowing apart.

"......Ah."

Park Hayan opened her eyes.

This was not the hospital room.

A shuddering cabin.

Flickering lights.

And the screams of people, shredding her eardrums.

"Save me!"

"We're going down! Hold on tight!"

A nightmare.

The memory of that day, tormenting her every night.

The moment the passenger plane was caught in the typhoon.

CRASH—!

The fuselage was torn apart.

Gale-force winds surged in.

Her mother, seated beside her, was flung away.

Her father, in the seat ahead, was impaled by debris and coughed up blood.

"Mom! Dad!"

Park Hayan reached out.

But all her hands caught was empty air.

Everything was shredded to ribbons.

Steel, plastic, human flesh.

It was like being inside a giant blender.

"I'm scared......"

She curled up in her seat.

Death was right before her eyes.

That was when it happened.

Hssssshh.......

In the center of the chaotic cabin.

A pocket of silence formed, as though time itself had stopped.

And from that darkness, someone emerged.

A shadow-like figure draped in a black robe.

It stood before Park Hayan.

A featureless mass of pitch-black fog spoke to her.

【You poor child.】

The voice burrowed into her brain.

A cold yet sweet temptation.

【It hurts, doesn't it? You're frightened, aren't you? Let me make this reality disappear.】

The shadow extended its hand.

【Make a contract with me. Take my hand, and I will erase this terrible memory and grant you new power.】

A dark spirit.

The uninvited guest Kim Jeong-seok had warned her about.

An ordinary human, paralyzed by fear, would have grasped at any straw and taken that hand.

But Park Hayan did not tremble.

In her mind, only a single sentence shone with perfect clarity.

She raised her head.

She stared straight into the shadow's eyes.

"Mayon."

【......?!】

The shadow flinched.

Its outstretched hand froze in midair.

"Being of darkness. There is already a god of my own within me."

Park Hayan placed her hand over her heart.

There lay Kim Jeong-seok's letter—and his heart along with it.

To her, a god was not some distant transcendent being.

The person who had pulled her out of the pit of despair.

He was her faith.

"I am not afraid of you."

A declaration.

She cast the eviction order.

【You, you little—!】

The shadow screamed.

'Mayon.'

Its True Name.

For a spirit, having its name spoken meant losing dominion over its own existence.

The terror of having a secret it wanted hidden—a secret that must never be exposed—seen through, crashed down upon Mayon.

【How?! How could a mere human know my name?!】

The shadow stumbled backward.

Its form unraveled.

Mayon looked at Park Hayan—no, at the shadow of someone standing firm behind her—and was stricken with dread.

【A trap! This is a trap!】

FLASH!

The shadow scattered as if fleeing.

The darkness lifted.

In the place where Mayon had vanished, the hazy fragments of memory settled sharply back into place.

Only then could she see.

It had not been luck that she survived.

Through the wreckage of the fuselage, her parents—drenched in blood—had been shielding her with their entire bodies.

Even as their own bones were being crushed, they had desperately protected her head and chest.

"Ah......"

Tears streamed down Park Hayan's face.

It was a nightmare, yet at the same time a truth she must never forget.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

The fuselage split in half with a deafening roar.

Gravity vanished.

A hopeless plunge, plummeting straight toward the ground.

Amidst the pandemonium, where even screams were torn apart by the wind.

Someone clasped Park Hayan's hand.

It was not her parents.

Her parents had already lost consciousness.

She turned her head.

It was a middle-aged couple seated in the aisle across from her.

People she had spoken with briefly in the waiting area before boarding the plane.

They had smiled shyly, saying it was their wedding anniversary, their first overseas trip in a long time.

"It's okay, sweetheart."

The woman squeezed Park Hayan's hand tight.

Over fingers turned white with terror, a layer of warmth settled.

Death was bearing down upon them.

And yet, instead of screaming, they were comforting a young girl.

"Don't be afraid. It'll be over soon."

The man forced a smile.

Blood was running down his forehead too, but his eyes remained gentle.

"We have a son about your age."

The woman whispered, her voice trembling.

In their final moments, they were thinking of the son they had left behind at home.

A couple whose happiest day—their wedding anniversary—would end in a cold sky.

But rather than fear, what poured from them was longing.

"I miss him...... our Jeong-seok."

"Dear, he's a tough kid. He'll do just fine."

"Of course he will. Look whose son he is."

Park Hayan's eyes wavered.

Just now—what did they say?

The instant that name seared itself into Park Hayan's mind.

CRASH—!

The fuselage slammed into the ground.

Her vision was dyed red, and everything went dark.

***

"Hah!"

Park Hayan bolted upright.

Ragged breaths burst from her.

Her heart hammered as though it would leap from her chest.

"Hah, hah, hah......"

The hospital room.

Morning sunlight was pouring in through the window.

It had been a dream.

No—it had been the restoration of a lost memory.

Park Hayan stared blankly down at her own hands.

The hands the man and woman had held in the dream.

It felt as though their warmth still lingered.

"Kim...... Jeong-seok."

Her lips trembled.

Now she understood.

Why a complete stranger had donated such a vast sum.

Why he had told her to keep living, that she was not alone.

'It was them.'

Kim Jeong-seok, the one who had sponsored her.

He was the son of the very couple who had held her hand until the very end.

The flesh and blood of people who had departed on the same day, at the same hour, alongside her own parents.

Park Hayan opened the drawer.

She took out Kim Jeong-seok's letter.

[I, too, am someone who lost family in that plane crash. My parents were on that plane.]

Every single word cut deep into her heart.

"Hk......"

She broke down.

In their final moments, they had called out their son's name.

And that son had sought out the girl who survived and extended a hand of salvation.

As though inheriting the dying wish of his parents.

"Thank you...... thank you so much......"

Park Hayan clutched the letter to her chest and wept.

Something hot surged up from the depths of her heart.

It was the will to live.

And a vow to repay a debt she could never forget.

'I have to live.'

Not just survive.

She had to live splendidly, more admirably than anyone, for all to see.

For the parents who had given their lives.

For the couple who had held her hand.

And for the person who had lifted her back to her feet—Kim Jeong-seok.

Park Hayan wiped her tears.

Hsssh.

The spirits in the air whispered to her.

They consoled, blessed, and lent her their strength.

"You're watching, aren't you?"

She spoke to the empty air.

As though he were listening.

"I'll live with everything I have. So I won't be a burden to anyone. I'll live so well that everyone can see."

Park Hayan's voice carried resolve.

"And I will find you, no matter what. When I do...... I'll be the one to take your hand."

A vow.

Though the world had been struck by the Great Cataclysm.

She would live without shame, without disgrace.

And she would become stronger than anyone.

Because that was the only way to repay him.

***

'Today's a lucky day.'

I was currently driving a one-ton truck across the country.

The truck bed was loaded with all manner of odds and ends.

Old jars, rusted swords, faded scrolls—even pieces of a broken stone monument.

To anyone else, it would have looked like a junkyard dealer or an old man collecting scrap paper.

But all of these were Relics.

Treasures brimming with mana, carrying latent potential.

My Inventory was full, so I was hauling them by truck.

I had more or less gathered the amount I wanted.

'Time to move on to the next phase.'

One year.

Only one year remained until the Tower's gate opened.

Within that time, I had to gather the shields to protect the Earth, and I had to grow stronger myself.

Not a single day could be wasted.

'I wonder if Park Hayan's doing all right?'

Her face suddenly came to mind.

By now, the dark spirit 'Mayon' would have made its approach.

That thing was a demon from the age before recorded history.

An Aberration in the shape of a black human figure, originating from Timal mythology.

It approached talented spirit arts users, forced contracts upon them, exploited their power, and warped their very nature. The worst of the worst.

Before the Regression, Park Hayan had made a contract with Mayon.

It was one of the reasons she had been called 'The White Devil.'

Mayon had acted as a shackle, suppressing Park Hayan's growth.

That she had still risen to become the Spirit Monarch despite that spoke to her talent, which was nothing short of insane.

But this time would be different.

I had told her Mayon's True Name.

An Aberration that has its identity exposed loses its power.

They exist as unknowns, feeding on fear.

The moment its name was spoken, Mayon would never dare come near Park Hayan again.

'She'll have handled it just fine.'

I shrugged.

Park Hayan was strong.

With the hope and belief I had planted in her, she was more than capable of overcoming it and growing the right way.

I checked the rearview mirror and changed lanes.

'Here they come, right on cue.'

There was a conspicuous car.

A black sedan.

When I made a left turn, the sedan made a left turn.

When I turned into a back street, it followed at a distance.

For over an hour now.

The corner of my mouth curled upward.

I pulled over to the shoulder and got out.

"Oh, my aching joints."

I stretched as if working out the kinks, and a man in a suit emerged from the sedan that had been tailing me.

The man spoke in a forceful tone.

"Chairman Park would like a word with you."

Chairman Park.

I smiled inwardly.

A big catch, right from the start.