The Seven Stars were at the forefront of the expeditionary force, as always. Leaving Shalyh, Chi-Woo suddenly turned back after walking for a long time. Beyond the end of the long procession, he stared at the city, which had now become as small as his palm. Chi-Woo turned back forward and then put his hand near the left side of his chest. He didn’t know why, but his heart was pounding.

* * *

The expeditionary force began its march after their departure from Shalyh. They were all quiet. Considering that they were about to embark on the final war that would determine Liber’s fate, one would expect them to be rowdy or full of energy, but everyone had their mouths shut as if they had agreed to do so beforehand. Compared to a few days ago, the atmosphere was 180 degrees different. There were two dominating emotions among them—shock and fear. The annihilation of the main forces at the Cassiubia Mountain range had been beyond shocking. Their formidable ally, whom they had been fighting together with and who they had no doubt would do the same again this time, had been wiped out without a trace overnight. It was only natural that they would feel fear.

Nevertheless, there were two reasons they were still heading toward where their allies had met the fate of annihilation only after half a day of preparation. First, even if they wanted to run away, there was no place for them to retreat to. But above all, Chi-Woo was with them. The Last Dragon had said that perhaps, if it was him, he might be able to fight their enemy. Chi-Woo was a hero who had turned the tide in several wars that seemed impossible to win. Thus, he would surely do the same this time, and they even had Chi-Hyun with them. People soothed their anxious minds with this thought and concentrated on the march.

Time passed, and night changed to day. When the sun rose in the middle of the sky, Shalyh’s expeditionary force reached a plain and suddenly stopped their endless marching. The reconnaissance team that had gone ahead of them made an urgent call—a survivor had been found.

“One…? Just one…?” The expeditionary force murmured amongst themselves.

Chi-Hyun quickly ordered them to bring the survivor over and search for any additional survivors near them. However, all the updates he got were the same. They had already completed their search, and only one survivor had been identified. Furthermore, even that one survivor was not in a normal condition.

“All! All dead! Me too…! Me too…!” Aside from his serious injuries, which caused his internal organs to spill out, he continued to speak in gibberish. Even when several priests treated him and shouted at him to come to his senses, it was all futile. The survivor seemed to have suffered great mental trauma, much greater than any physical injury.

“All of us! Even though a massive number of us joined forces, it was all useless! It’s a terrible calamity! It’s calamity itself!”

In the end, Chi-Hyun judged that it would be difficult to obtain information from the survivor and ordered him to be taken to the rear. A heavy silence fell over the expeditionary force. How could there be only one survivor when the Last Dragon had quickly realized that they wouldn’t be able to face their enemy and ordered everyone to scatter away? This was clear evidence of how completely shattered and crushed the Cassiubia League’s main force was.

“A march beyond this is meaningless.” Chi-Woo immediately gave out an order. “We’re not going after them since they are the ones coming after us. We’ll build a post here and wait for them.”

In his heart, he wanted to withdraw to the last gate and utilize the fortress’ advantageous terrain, but Chi-Hyun didn’t do that. He had garnered some clues when the survivor mentioned a massive number of forces. A natural fortress would be useless against their enemy. If they couldn’t take advantage of terrains, it was better to fight in the open plain. At Chi-Hyun’s order, the expeditionary force decided to wait for the Sernitas here, and thus, the backdrop for their last stand was decided.

* * *

It’d been three days since they arrived at the plain, but the Sernitas did not appear. Still, no one doubted that the nest

/basket

/cocoon would come to where they were. The Shalyh’s expeditionary force and the Sernitas could never coexist on Liber; they could only achieve their goal by killing each other. Thus, the Sernitas would definitely come.

Shalyh’s expeditionary force waited patiently in a tense atmosphere that felt like a ticking time bomb would fall and explode at any moment. Chi-Woo immediately went to bed after finishing his guard duty. However, even though he tried to get at least a little bit of sleep, he couldn’t. Of course, he didn’t need to sleep, but it was clear from Chi-Woo’s expression that he was far from unfazed. He tossed and turned for a while in bed and then put his hand on his chest.

Ba-thump, ba-thump. He felt his beating heart from his palm. Ever since he left Shalyh—no, it had been like this even before that. Although his heart didn’t beat at a pace that was completely out of the normal, it was fast enough to bother him—that he couldn’t fall asleep. What was wrong with him? When he thought he couldn’t just leave it like this, he heard a presence nearby.

“Are you sleeping?” It was a familiar voice.

Chi-Woo immediately sat up and saw Byeok standing nervously with a slightly anxious expression. “If you’re not asleep, get up and come out for a bit.”

“Yes, Master. Do you have anything to say to me?”

“I have nothing to say, but go and talk to him.”

Chi-Woo tilted his head after standing up. She didn’t want to talk to him, but wanted him to go talk to someone else? Chi-Woo asked, “Who?”

“I’m talking about Chi-Hyun.”

“Hyung? Why should I talk to Hyung?”

“Stop yammering and just go!”

“But why—” Chi-Woo tried to ask, but Byeok was relentless. In the end, Chi-Woo was forced to leave his tent by Byeok’s forceful push.

“Geez, why so suddenly…” Chi-Woo smacked his lips. What kind of conversation did she want him to have with his brother? There were things he wanted to talk to Chi-Hyun about, but there was no way Chi-Hyun would actually tell him what he was curious about after all this time. Besides, Chi-Woo thought he had talked about everything there was to talk about with his brother. Still, this was the first time Byeok had been like this, so Chi-Woo trudged in the direction she pushed him to. After a short walk, he stopped when he saw a familiar back.

Spotting Chi-Hyun sitting by the campfire, Chi-Woo could understand a little bit why Byeok had suddenly asked him to go talk to his brother. It was because Chi-Hyun’s back, which always remained upright whether he was standing or sitting, was hunched today. Seeing him reminded Chi-Woo of an actor who was famous for the scene where he sat by a bank and stared endlessly at the ocean while drinking soju. Anyway, it was the first time his brother’s back looked so small. Did Chi-Hyun suddenly become sentimental now that everything was almost over?

Chi-Woo approached him carefully and sat next to Chi-Hyun with the campfire between them. Chi-Hyun did not acknowledge him and simply stared up at the night sky blankly. Chi-Woo, who was wondering what to say to him, decided to just stay still for now. It was obvious that Chi-Hyun would only give him a blunt, one-word answer if he tried to force him to talk, and then they wouldn't be able to share a conversation. Moreover, he couldn’t make Chi-Hyun talk if he didn’t want to. Thus, Chi-Woo stared at the campfire that lit up brightly alone in the dark.

Crackkle! Sparks flew out. He didn’t know how long it’d been. The flames that danced left and right in tandem with the flying sparks began to slowly die down, and as a result, when the shadow of the campfire weakened a little, Chi-Hyun asked out of the blue, “What are you going to do?” It was an unexpected question. “When it’s all over. When we return home,” Chi-Hyun clarified.

With his arms crossed, Chi-Woo tilted his head slowly until the angle between his neck and shoulder exceeded 45 degrees. Then Chi-Woo finally said, “There are too many things I want to do.” First, he wanted to sit his parents down and hear the stories of their family that they had hidden from him. He also wanted to visit his mentor’s grave. And…

Chi-Hyun said, “If you had to pick just one.”

If that was the case—

“Chicken,” Chi-Woo immediately replied.

Chi-Hyun’s eyes widened a little as if he hadn’t expected this answer. “…You want to have chicken?”

“No.” Chi-Woo shook his head. “If I really wanted to, I can replicate it and make a similar version on Liber. It won’t be exactly the same, but…honestly, I think the one I made will taste better.” In other words, he wasn’t just craving chicken.

“Then what?”

“…That day.” The very day it all started. “I was on my way back after meeting Gil-Duk.”

Chi-Hyun looked inquisitively at him, asking who Gil-Duk was.

“Ah, you know. My friend. He has a round face and wears glasses with a half buzz cut…” Chi-Woo was about to describe in more detail, but gave up in the end; no matter how much he explained, his brother wouldn’t remember. Chi-Hyun was the type of person who erased all things he considered not worth remembering from his brain. Anyway, Chi-Woo decided to continue.

“I bought chicken on my way back home.”

“Why?”

“Just. I saw it on the way. At the pub…” He could still remember it clearly—two parents sitting at an outdoor table watching TV and drinking a cold beer while two kids were eating chicken excitedly. He didn’t know why, but he remembered standing and staring at this scene for a long time.

“I was going to also eat chicken while watching soccer together with everyone, but.” Chi-Woo smiled dryly. “I had no idea it would turn out like this.” He shrugged and shifted his gaze to ask, “Is it too trivial?”

“…Yeah.” Chi-Hyun nodded half a beat late. “It is.” The conversation came to a halt.

Chi-Woo tapped on the ground with his fingers while the silence continued. Then he suddenly felt like it was unfair that he was the only one who answered, so he asked, “What about you?”

“…”

“What do you want to do?”

Chi-Hyun didn’t reply. When Chi-Woo stared at him, Chi-Hyun shook his head.

“Nothing? Why, the snacks…oh that’s right. I still have one pack left.” Chi-Woo realized this while talking, and his brother looked at him like he was asking why Chi-Woo would mention it after all this time.

“Is it all crushed up like last time?”

“No, I don’t know. It’s probably not. Ah, why did I forget it?” Flustered, Chi-Woo looked back at Chi-Hyun. “Should I go and get it now?”

Chi-Hyun snorted. Chi-Woo was a vital force that they couldn’t do without. No matter how fast he went and got the snack, the Sernitas was sure to come today or tomorrow at the latest. Chi-Woo scratched his head and asked again, “Anything else besides snacks?”

“No.” It was an immediate answer. Even if Chi-Hyun saved Liber and returned to Earth, his life would not change much. He would merely be adding one more line to his resume with an already endless list of achievements. After resting a little on Earth, he would need to immediately go out and work again when he received the Celestial Realm’s call. And he might only be able to return to Earth after a few decades to hundreds of years with repeated regression. That was the kind of life he would repeat for all eternity.

Chi-Woo pondered for a while and decided to change his question. “Then what would you have wanted to do?”

Chi-Hyun blinked a couple of times, taken aback. Chi-Woo wasn’t asking about what he wanted to do, but what he would have wanted to do. Chi-Hyun looked slightly flustered.

“Just tell me anything that comes to mind.”

Chi-Hyun didn’t immediately open his mouth, but Chi-Woo waited patiently. After some time, Chi-Hyun spoke a bit awkwardly as if he was hesitant to answer. However, once his mouth opened, the answer came out without his control. “…School…?” Chi-Hyun’s voice was unusually quiet; he sounded even slightly shy, and it seemed from his expression that he regretted saying it a bit. However, once he said it, the rest of the answer rolled out of his mouth. “I wanted to go to school.”

Chi-Hyun’s tightly shut mouth opened like he was enchanted. “I wanted to go to school and take classes and make friends. I wanted to try school meals, go to cram schools, go to internet cafes and play games after exams.” The words kept coming. Chi-Hyun began revealing inner thoughts he had never told anyone before. “I wanted to take the college entrance exam, go to college, and try dating…stay up all night in the library…prepare to get a job and land a job…” His secret thoughts kept flowing out. “…That’s how I wanted to live my life.”

Chi-Woo, who had been listening while nodding, suddenly looked back at Chi-Hyun and asked, “But couldn’t you have dated?”

“What?”

“Well, I don’t think there’s absolutely no one who likes you.”

“No, not like that.” Chi-Hyun let out a hollow laugh. “Not that kind of relationship. You know what I mean.”

Chi-Woo thought he could understand and smirked.

“Well…” Chi-Hyun smiled bitterly and tilted his head again while looking up at the night sky. “I can’t turn back even if I want to now.” He didn’t even have any lingering feelings anymore. “They’re all things I’ve left behind, but…” He spoke in a voice filled with deep remorse. He stared at the night sky with dim eyes for a moment and then snorted as if it was ridiculous for him to even think like this. With a deep sigh, he said, “It’s impossible for it to happen.”

His voice was so faint that it seemed like it would be lost in the wind, but then it suddenly became clear. “Yeah, it’s impossible…for me.” He murmured to himself and straightened his hunched back, lifting both arms like he was stretching. In Chi-Woo’s eyes, Chi-Hyun looked relieved and refreshed. Would he be mistaken if he said that Chi-Hyun was clearing up any lingering feelings he had and making up his mind through this conversation?

At that moment, Chi-Woo felt his pounding heart thump hard for reasons unbeknownst to him. It beat louder and clearer than ever. At the same time, he felt a push on his back as strong as when Byeok had told him to go and talk to his brother. No, not yet—he needed to talk a bit more. He felt that he must. Chi-Woo was pushed hard by this sensation and unconsciously opened his mouth, “Then.”

Chi-Hyun, who was about to stretch his arms as hard as he could, stopped.

“You can do that.”