Pending the final chapter, which I imagine will be the final nail in the coffin.
"I only serve one master," Hak says.
The fact that he only serves Yona doesn't change the fact that he considers himself a servant. It simply transforms vassalage into monogamy.
After all, I find it difficult to interpret this pattern as an isolated embellishment:
*exclusive personal bodyguard;
*I will go where there is work to be done;
*she is the one who works the hardest;
*the people will understand the joy of belonging to her;
*I will not be by her side at the coronation;
*I will only have one master my whole life.
For me, it's not a romantic phrase superimposed on an egalitarian relationship. For me, it's another element of a relationship that the text itself insists on maintaining as hierarchical.
For me, the ending seems to say that Hak:
ceases to have an identity outside of Yona.
His work exists for her.
His loyalty exists for her.
His body exists to protect her.
His future exists to serve her.
His narrative name ends up being replaced by “personal bodyguard.”
I think that's no longer devotion. It's the dissolution of the character within the protagonist.
And that's why the phrase “the only master” strikes me as so ugly. It doesn't tell me:
“I have chosen Yona.”
It tells me, deep down: “I don't need to exist outside of my function in relation to Yona.”
Some people interpret it as absolute love because it sounds exclusive. But exclusivity doesn't fix the disappearance. It only makes it total.
Exclusivity doesn't eliminate subordination.
Many fan reactions lead me to think that they value as a romantic ideal precisely what I consider Hak's tragedy: that he gives himself completely, demands nothing, and finds happiness in erasing himself.
They see: “How deeply he loves her.”
I see: “How completely he has disappeared within that love.”
Hak doesn't "choose" Yona like one chooses a home. The manga seems to want Yona to be the only place where Hak has the right to exist. Outside of her, there is no project, name, desire, ambition, community, or sufficiently developed life of his own.
And I see that as consistent with everything else:
He doesn't need a horse, because it doesn't matter how he travels, only that he fulfills his purpose;
He doesn't need a position of his own, because he already has a function;
He doesn't need equality, because serving is enough for him;
He doesn't need reciprocity, because receiving a glance is already a reward;
He doesn't need political identity, because he is the queen's endorsement;
He doesn't need a final arc, because his arc ends when he accepts disappearing completely.
It's terrible for me, because the manga seems convinced that this is the purest form of love.
And for me, it isn't. Love shouldn't demand ceasing to exist.
A cage can be beautiful. It's still a cage.
That's Hak's real tragedy: not that he gives his life for Yona, but that the story deems it beautiful that he spares no life except for Yona.