RudeIsTheNewSexy~

He didn’t waste time. “The portal we just cleared was not a sign of a return to the chaos we once knew,” he began, voice calm but firm. “It was an anomaly—an echo of what was, not what’s coming. The Association, alongside global Hunter agencies, is monitoring dimensional rifts constantly. I can assure you: the safety of the people remains our top priority.”

His eyes swept across the room—officials, reporters, guild leaders, representatives from around the world—and he continued, “I will personally respond to any threat that dares to surface. You have my word.”

There was no need for dramatic flair. Jinwoo’s presence, his reputation, and his unwavering tone said everything. The press conference ended in a flurry of flashes and follow-up questions he didn’t bother to answer. His job wasn’t to appease the media—it was to protect.

By the time he stepped back into the house, it was already late.

His coat slid off his shoulders and landed on the back of the chair in the hallway. The silence felt heavy, not suffocating—just thick with exhaustion. He’d been working nonstop: calming panicked governments, reassuring the association, brushing off doomsday theories being thrown around online.

But none of that mattered more than what waited upstairs.

He walked quietly through the home. The lights were dim. A soft glow filtered out from Suho’s room, but when he peeked inside, the boy was fast asleep, his hair tousled across the pillow, a faint line of drool on his cheek. Jinwoo smiled faintly, brushing the hair from his son’s forehead before pulling the blanket up a little more.

As he turned to head toward the master bedroom, something shifted in the corner of his eye.

Y/N spotted him from the couch. Her eyes sparkled.

“Oh, no. Not on my watch.”

She grabbed the nearest speaker, hit play—a beat dropped. Low. Funky. Stupidly dramatic.

Y/N got up slowly, hips already catching the rhythm. She locked eyes with Jinwoo as if she were about to deliver divine gospel.

She stepped close. Real close. Inches from his face.

“Are you depress?” (CLAP! hands together—sharp, dramatic)

She circled him like a predator with rhythm in her blood. Stepped close again, leaned into his space—

“Are you mad?” (CLAP! right on her ass—one cheek, clean hit)

Jinwoo blinked slowly. This was happening. He was letting it.

She twirled, dipped, came right up in his face, forehead to forehead—

“Are you upset?” BOINK. She poked his nose. With purpose.

He almost flinched.

Then she slid around him, got close to his ear, breath warm—

“Are you sad?” (CLAP! feet slap the floor as she hops in place like a funky goblin)

She backed up, just enough to give herself runway.

Then shimmy-shimmy, chest first, arms wide, she grinned and sang:

“Come here, babe…” “And let me give you a hug~”

She wrapped him up. Soft. Warm. Uncharacteristically gentle.

Jinwoo didn’t move—his body processed a full loving embrace while his brain tried to reboot.

Y/N held him just a second longer than silly would allow.

Then pulled back. Dead serious.

Beat still playing.

She narrowed her eyes. Voice low. Deep. Full commitment:

“Because you act…” Pause. “…like nobody give you love.”

She clapped once more. Ass. For emphasis.

Jinwoo stared at her.

“…You’re a menace.”

Y/N smirked. “But you’re not sad anymore, huh?”

He didn’t answer.

But his arms slowly wrapped around her again.

And in the background… the beat kept going.

Jinwoo’s arms were still loosely around Y/N. He hadn’t spoken yet.

He wasn’t sure how to respond to booty-based therapy.

Then—

“...What’s going on?”

Both of them froze.

Y/N turned her head, still mid-hug.

There stood Suho.

In pajamas. Looking way too curious for his own good.

Y/N grinned like she just got caught dancing in a crime scene. “Therapy.”

Suho blinked. “...For Dad?”

Jinwoo closed his eyes in shame. “It wasn’t therapy. It was—”

“—Performance healing!” Y/N interrupted proudly, throwing jazz hands.

Suho’s eyes lit up. “Can we do it again?”

Jinwoo opened his mouth. “No—”

Y/N: “Yes.”

Jinwoo: “Y/N, please—”

“Alright, then!” Y/N declared, throwing her arms wide. “It’s therapy rap time, kiddo!”

Jinwoo let out a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging even more.

“Dad, come on!” Suho urged, dragging Jinwoo into the chaos. “You have to do it too!”

Jinwoo looked at Y/N. She was already starting the beat again, hands clapping, feet stomping, moving with energy.

“Fine,” Jinwoo muttered, rolling his eyes. But he gave in. The beat was catchy, and honestly, he was too tired to argue.

The family gathered together in a circle, facing each other. Y/N led the way, snapping her fingers, already getting into the groove.

Suho looked at his dad with a smile. "Dad, you gotta clap harder!"

“Are you depress?” (CLAP! Suho clapped his hands along with the beat)

“Are you mad?” (CLAP! Jinwoo’s hands reluctantly slapped together)

Jinwoo gave him a dry look. "I’m trying not to make it worse."

“Are you upset?” (BOINK! Suho poked Jinwoo’s nose—he looked mildly offended but couldn’t stop himself from chuckling)

Y/N grinned and started shaking her chest again, making Jinwoo pause. He blinked. “What’s—”

They held the hug for a moment, all laughing, all genuinely happy.

“Come here, babe…”

“And let me give you a hug~”

The group hug began, and Suho squeezed in between them, giggling as his parents embraced. Even Jinwoo couldn’t resist chuckling, the tension melting away in the warmth of his family.

Y/N pulled back with a dramatic sigh, her hands in the air. “Alright, now we get serious!”

They all paused for a moment. Jinwoo rubbed his face, trying to hold back his laughter, his stress completely evaporating.

“Because you act…”

“Like nobody give you love!”

Then, before anyone could process it, Y/N grabbed Jinwoo’s hands and dragged him into the final moment of therapy.

Jinwoo looked at her with a serious expression. “What now—”

Suho’s face lit up, eyes wide. “Dad!!” He burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“CLAP CLAP!”

Jinwoo slapped his own ass, making a ridiculously loud noise.

Jinwoo tried to fight it but finally gave in, laughing along with his son.

“See?” Y/N said with a wicked grin. “That’s the power of love... and a good ass clap.”

And in that moment, Jinwoo felt it. All his stress, all his worries, completely gone.

This… this was his therapy. His family. His ridiculous, lovable, insane family.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The kitchen was warm with the scent of food, and the three of them—Jinwoo, Y/N, and Suho—sat around the dining table, plates piled high. It was late, and Jinwoo had expected to eat alone after a long day, but his family insisted on joining him. No one wanted him to eat by himself.

Suho had already eaten, but after the therapy rap and all the hugging, he had still found room for more food. His eyes were sparkling as he stuffed his face, looking up at his parents every now and then with a little grin.

Jinwoo was still a little on edge from the chaos of the day, but the warmth of his family around him made the weight feel a little lighter.

Y/N cleared her throat as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hey, Jinwoo."

"Hm?" He looked up, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Suho set down his spoon, his eyes suddenly focused and bright. "Mom, can I talk about what I want for my birthday?"

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow. "What do you want, kiddo?"

Suho leaned forward, his excitement growing with each word. "I want to experience raiding a dungeon!"

Jinwoo froze mid-chew. He coughed, his throat immediately constricting from the shock. He hacked into his napkin and started choking on the food.

Y/N quickly rushed to his side, thumping him on the back with a solid thwack.

“Jinwoo, are you alright?” she asked, her voice both concerned and slightly amused. She gave him a few more quick pats, making sure he wasn’t actually dying.

Suho looked at his father, waiting for his reaction.

Jinwoo finally managed to catch his breath, still staring at Suho. "Suho... Are you serious? A dungeon? That’s... too dangerous for someone your age."

Suho's big eyes widened, and he looked up at Jinwoo, his face the perfect picture of innocence. “But... Dad... you’ll be there with me, right? I’ll be safe because you’re there.”

He gazed up at Jinwoo with the most adorable, pleading expression he could muster, and Jinwoo felt his resolve beginning to crack.

Y/N watched the scene quietly, already knowing how this was going to play out. She glanced at Jinwoo, then back at Suho, and gave a gentle sigh, knowing full well that her husband would never agree to such an idea.

“Jinwoo,” Y/N interjected with a bright smile, “you know you can’t say no to that face. But I do agree that an actual dungeon is too dangerous.”

Suho’s face fell slightly, but before he could protest, Y/N quickly jumped in. “How about this? Instead of a real dungeon, we play pretend! We’ll raid a cleared dungeon, and I’ll be the dungeon boss. You’ll get to experience it—without the danger!”

Suho’s eyes lit up at the thought. “Mom, that sounds awesome! You’ll be the dungeon boss?”

Y/N’s smile turned sly. “Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed being the villain. It’s going to be the best birthday raid ever.”

Jinwoo blinked, still processing everything. He looked at Y/N, then at Suho, who was practically bouncing in his seat with excitement.

“I’m still not sure about this... But...” Jinwoo sighed. “If it’s a pretend raid, then... fine. But only because I can’t say no to you two.”

Suho cheered. “Yes!” He jumped out of his chair and ran over to hug his father, practically knocking him out of his seat.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “There we go. A birthday to remember.”

Jinwoo smiled, pulling his son into a tight hug. As much as he worried about his son’s safety, he couldn’t deny the joy on Suho’s face. And Y/N—well, she always found a way to make the impossible sound fun.

“Alright, alright,” Jinwoo said, laughing despite himself. “But don’t make the dungeon too dangerous, okay?”

“Oh, it’ll be perfectly safe,” Y/N promised. “But maybe we’ll throw in a few traps... just to make it interesting.”

Suho, now fully invested in the idea, grinned. “Traps? Like... the ones in the videos I watch? Cool!”

Jinwoo sighed but couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m going to regret this…”

But he knew, in the end, it would be a memory worth having. Even if it meant facing a few pretend monsters—and Y/N in full villain mode.

Jinwoo stood at the entrance of the portal, hand on Suho’s shoulder, ready for whatever awaited them. Suho, eager but calm, stood beside his father, exuding a confidence beyond his years. The air felt thick with the promise of adventure.

A shadow flickered beside them, and Beru appeared, wings aglow, his usual stoic presence enhanced by a certain dramatic flair.

“My liege,” Beru spoke with a bow, his voice rich and full of gravity. “The dungeon has been cleared, and all is prepared for your raid. The shadows are in position. You and the young master may proceed. I wish the young master good fortune on his journey.”

Suho smiled up at Beru, all eagerness and excitement. “Thanks, Beru! We’re going to do awesome!”

Beru gave a nod, his gaze full of quiet respect. “May you both find victory and glory.”

With that, Beru faded into the shadows, his role fulfilled for now.

Jinwoo gave Suho a reassuring look before they stepped forward

The dungeon was dim and cold, the stone walls echoing with the sounds of their footsteps. Jinwoo and Suho were moving cautiously through the eerie silence, their focus on the task at hand.

The first shadow knight appeared, its glowing red eyes scanning the two intruders. Without a word, Jinwoo sprang into action, his movements swift and calculated. He effortlessly dodged the knight’s strikes, countering with precision as Suho watched intently from his side.

Jinwoo’s movements were fluid and natural, but Suho, ever the curious and eager learner, began to mimic his father’s actions from the sidelines. He stood a bit further back, keeping his distance, but his eyes never left Jinwoo. With a few subtle shifts of his stance, Suho tried to copy the precise way his father moved, pretending as if he were striking the knights from behind.

Jinwoo, focused on his own fight, didn’t notice at first that Suho was trying to imitate him. But then, something unexpected happened. As Jinwoo dodged a blow from one of the knights, a powerful strike came from behind him—right through the shadow knight’s defenses—and the knight collapsed with a dramatic thud. Jinwoo froze, blinking in surprise.

He spun around, just in time to see Suho standing there, a grin on his face as if nothing had happened. The young boy had landed a perfectly executed blow. Jinwoo’s jaw dropped as he looked at his son, who was smiling innocently like he hadn’t just done something incredible.

“I told you I got your back, Dad,” Suho said proudly, the tiniest bit of mischief in his eyes.

Jinwoo stared at Suho for a long moment, his heart swelling with pride. He hadn’t expected his son to pick up on his moves so quickly—or to be so strong at such a young age.

With a wide grin, Jinwoo knelt down to Suho’s level, his voice full of admiration. “You really do, don’t you, Suho?” He ruffled his son’s hair affectionately. “That was impressive, kid. You’ve got some serious talent.”

Suho’s grin grew wider as he stood tall, his chest puffing out just a little. “I told you, I’m ready to fight with you, Dad!”

Jinwoo’s pride was clear in his eyes. His son, who had only just begun learning about combat, had already impressed him with his ability to keep up. A powerful, confident young warrior, his son was growing up fast, and Jinwoo couldn’t have been prouder.

“Let’s keep moving, then,” Jinwoo said, his smile still lingering. “We’ve got more shadow knights to clear, and I want you by my side, Suho.”

Suho nodded eagerly, already bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Let’s go, Dad! I’m ready for more!”

And together, they moved forward into the next stretch of the dungeon, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them.

After clearing the last of the shadow knights, Jinwoo and Suho finally reached the end of the dungeon—a massive, intimidating gate stood before them, the final obstacle between them and the dungeon boss room. Suho’s eyes were wide with excitement, and Jinwoo placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ve made it, Suho. Ready for this?” Jinwoo asked, his voice filled with quiet anticipation.

Suho nodded enthusiastically, his grip tightening on his weapon. “Yeah! Let’s go!”

With a deep breath, Jinwoo pushed open the gate. As it slowly creaked open, they stepped into the grand chamber beyond.

There, sitting on an imposing throne, was Y/N—draped in a full battle outfit that screamed “villainous queen” through every inch of its design. Her eyes, cold and calculating, looked down at them with an air of superiority as she casually leaned back, exuding a sense of power and control.

Beside her, Fenrir, Beru, Bellion, and Igris stood, perfectly still, their presence adding a heavy, ominous aura to the room. The shadows, including Tusk, Tank, Greed, and Iron, emerged from the shadows themselves, positioning themselves around the room with the silent precision of well-trained soldiers. Shadow knights took their posts, ready for the battle to begin.

Suho, unable to hide his awe, looked up at his mother. “Wow, Mom… you look amazing!”

Jinwoo, still processing the full extent of her transformation, blinked in disbelief. He turned to Y/N, unable to contain his curiosity. “Y/N, where did you get that outfit?”

There was a brief moment of silence as Y/N continued to stare down at them with cold, calculating eyes. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, as if the atmosphere itself was waiting for her response. Finally, she spoke, her voice sharp, yet dignified despite the casualness of her words.

“I rented it online,” Y/N replied, her tone betraying none of the humor one might expect from such a statement. Her gaze never wavered, and she leaned forward slightly, her fingers resting on the arms of the throne.

Jinwoo stared at her for a moment, taken aback by the sheer nonchalance in her response. He couldn't help but laugh, but it was clear his mind was still racing, trying to process everything around him.

Y/N, seeing the slight crack in his composure, didn’t allow the moment to linger for long. She sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing slightly as she began her villainous monologue, her voice dripping with menace and power.

"Enough of the chatter," she declared coldly, her voice echoing in the grand chamber. “You’ve come this far, but it was never meant to be easy. Every step you’ve taken, every shadow you’ve fought, has brought you to this moment—your final test. But do not fool yourselves. You are facing a force far beyond your comprehension. A force that has shaped this dungeon with the very essence of power.”

Her eyes flashed with dark amusement as she stood from the throne, her hand lightly resting on the scythe she had at her side. “You think you can challenge me? You think you can defeat me and walk out of here unscathed? You are mistaken. This is my domain, and here, I am absolute.”

Suho, caught up in the excitement of the moment, couldn't help but mirror his mother's tone. He stood tall, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he tried to match the villainous aura Y/N exuded. “Yeah! You think you can beat us, Dungeon Boss? We’ve got this!”

Jinwoo couldn’t help but chuckle at how easily Suho had gotten swept up in the mood, adopting the same dramatic flair. Despite the tension in the air, it was hard not to smile at the sight of his son fully embracing the playful chaos that Y/N had brought to the dungeon.

Y/N, however, was in her element, and the dark energy in the room seemed to surge with every word she spoke. “Prepare yourselves. The battle you face now will not be an easy one. But be warned, you will not leave here without feeling the weight of my power. I will make sure of it.”

Jinwoo's eyes softened as he looked at Suho, his heart swelling with pride. Then, without missing a beat, he turned to Y/N, ready for the challenge that lay ahead. “We’ll see about that.”

The shadow knights initiated the attack, but Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from her son, Suho. Despite his young age, he was trying so hard to keep up with Jinwoo, doing his best to protect his father’s back when enemies approached from behind. The sight of her son growing stronger with each battle made her heart swell, though she had to stay in character.

“Pathetic,” she muttered in a low, villainous tone. “You dare challenge me?” But deep down, there was a warmth blossoming inside her chest, watching as Suho’s small hands fought alongside Jinwoo’s much larger and more experienced ones.

Suho wasn’t just following his father’s moves—he was starting to make his own, improving with each swing, each step. Her pride for them both grew, though she quickly shoved those feelings aside. I am the villain, she reminded herself. I must stay strong, stay menacing.

When the shadow knights were wiped out in mere minutes, the shadow generals stepped forward, but even they hesitated. They clearly held back to avoid hurting Suho, who was still so young. It was a thoughtful, though unnecessary, precaution. Jinwoo took advantage of their hesitation and swiftly wiped them out.

The room went quiet as the last shadow general crumpled to the ground, leaving only the victorious duo—Jinwoo and Suho—standing tall and confident. They exchanged a glance, a shared grin, and Y/N felt her insides twist.

Oh no, she thought, her heart beating faster. They really look so much alike. My husband, my baby... so cute...

In her mind, an "ugly" version of herself appeared—face scrunched up in tears, eyes brimming with emotion. It was as if she were physically sobbing at the sheer adorableness of her family. The sight was so overwhelming that she could hardly contain herself. Look at them, she thought, feeling that powerful, gooey affection bubbling inside her. They’re perfect. My heart can’t handle it.

Her mind then shifted back to reality. I am the villain! I am evil!

Yet, there was no denying it—her heart was filled to the brim with love for them both, and that ugly, crying version of herself lingered in her mind, silently wailing at the scene of Jinwoo and Suho standing before her in victory.

But she couldn’t let it show. She couldn’t let them see her weakness, even if she was on the brink of internal fangirling over how cute they were.

She stood from her throne, the weight of her role settling back over her. Her hand raised, and the scythe appeared beside her, gleaming ominously. She had to maintain the tension in the room.

“Do you think you’ve won?” she asked in a voice laced with cold malice. "This is where your journey ends. You’ve come so far, but the final trial is upon you. Prepare to face the true power of the dungeon—my power!”

Her eyes narrowed, and she turned toward Jinwoo, pointing the scythe at him. “You, my dear, will fall first. You think you’ve bested me, but I will show you my true strength!”

Inside, though, she still felt that ugly version of herself crying tears of joy. You two are too perfect, she thought, her expression momentarily softening. So cute…

But she quickly snapped back into villain mode, keeping her posture sharp and commanding. I can’t let them see me like this!

The dungeon air trembled as a powerful, haunting howl echoed across the room—Fenrir, summoned by Y/N, threw his head back and released a bone-chilling cry. The sound was primal, wild, and entirely dramatic.

Then came Igris, his crimson cape fluttering behind him as he drew his sword with dignified grace, the blade gleaming with dark light. Bellion stepped forward next, his wings stretching, multiple arms poised for battle, and Beru crouched beside them, claws extended, chittering with a strange sort of excitement. All four generals faced Jinwoo.

They launched their attacks in sync—fast, precise, and powerful—but every strike was clearly calculated. None of it was aimed at Suho. Not even once.

This was a fight between titans. Between King and Queen.

All the shadows had been ordered by their queen: attack Jinwoo with everything they had… but never scratch her baby. That was non-negotiable.

Jinwoo noticed immediately. They were going all out, and yet not a single strike came near Suho. He didn’t need to ask. He just understood. So he let loose, pushing his strength without holding back, knowing Suho would be safe.

The dungeon shook with their collision. Suho tried to jump in, to help, but the sheer pressure and speed of the battle kept him at bay. He stared in awe—this wasn’t pretend anymore. This was a real fight. And his father… his father was incredible.

"I… I can't keep up," Suho whispered to himself, stepping back slowly. "This isn't my fight yet… I have a lot to learn."

From her throne, Y/N glanced at her son, seeing the awe in his eyes. Her heart fluttered, proud of him for understanding. He wasn't discouraged—he was inspired. She smiled softly.

But then Suho looked at her.

Her smile vanished instantly, replaced with a cold, dangerous stare. She tilted her chin up, narrowed her eyes, and returned to full villain mode.

The shadows, sensing the shift, stepped back. Fenrir howled once more, and the four generals stopped their assault.

The stage was now clear.

It was time for the finale.

Jinwoo stood alone at the center, daggers in hand, his breath calm and steady. Across from him, Y/N descended the stairs with queenly poise, scythe resting over her shoulder.

“Didn’t think you’d go this far,” Jinwoo said with a small grin.

Y/N pointed the scythe at him, her voice chilling and theatrical. “You’ve trespassed into my domain. And now, you will pay the price.”

With no further warning, she lunged.

Clang!

The scythe came down in a clean arc, and Jinwoo barely raised his dagger in time to block it. The metal sang as they collided.

Jinwoo’s eyes widened. The force behind it—it was no joke.

“You actually swung that at me,” he said, half-laughing.

“I’m method acting,” Y/N replied coolly.

She twirled the scythe in a sweeping motion and stepped to the side, slashing diagonally. Jinwoo ducked, swept her legs, but she leapt, spun mid-air, and twisted like a dancer of death.

Jinwoo leapt back, throwing a dagger mid-air. She sliced it in half with one clean swing, her eyes burning with wicked joy.

“You’re enjoying this,” he muttered.

“Of course I am,” she smirked, planting her scythe into the ground and using the pole to vault over his head. She aimed a kick at his back, which he blocked with his forearm.

Suho’s eyes sparkled as he watched from the sidelines, absolutely invested.

Jinwoo used Shadow Step to appear behind her, but Y/N had predicted it. She turned, catching his wrist, and whispered:

“Too slow.”

He twisted out of her grip, grabbed her arm, and pivoted them both into a lock. For a second, it looked like he had her—until she smirked, let go of the scythe, and headbutted him lightly.

“Ow—seriously?”

“All’s fair in love and villainy.”

Jinwoo broke into a full laugh, stepping back. “I think your costume’s getting to your head.”

Y/N grinned with fake arrogance, picking up her scythe and pointing it at him once more. “No… this is who I truly am!”

They circled each other again, steps slow, both smiling, both deadly. The shadows, generals, and Suho watched with silent admiration.

To everyone else, it looked like an epic duel.

To them?

It was love in its purest, most chaotic form.

Flashes of light burst through the dungeon as Jinwoo’s daggers clashed again and again with the sweeping arc of Y/N’ scythe. Sparks flew, casting wild shadows across the walls. Every strike echoed like thunder, and the shadows that stood as the audience—Beru, Bellion, Igris, and the rest—watched in total reverence.

It wasn’t just a fight.

It was a performance.

A breathtaking, chaotic, and graceful display of strength and love. Every movement was precise. Every dodge, every feint, every counter was deliberate.

To Suho, who stood at the edge of the battle, eyes wide in wonder, it was the coolest thing he had ever seen. His parents weren’t just strong—they were awesome.

The dance between the two warriors intensified. Y/N spun with her scythe, leaping with a snarl, only to be parried by Jinwoo’s twin daggers. Jinwoo ducked low, swept her leg—but she flipped and countered mid-air. The rhythm, the pacing—it was perfect.

Shadows moved with every motion, reacting like living echoes to their battle. The flickering light of magic and movement painted the dungeon in an ever-shifting glow.

But Jinwoo knew something as they fought. Y/N? She didn’t plan to be defeated.

Not in front of Suho. Not in full costume. Not when she had a whole villain arc scripted in her head.

And him?

There was no way he was going to lose in front of their son either.

They clashed again—up close, breathless, blades locked.

And in that moment, when only inches separated them, Jinwoo leaned in close and whispered into Y/N’ ear—quietly, intimately, so only she could hear:

“You look way too hot in this outfit. If I win, I’m carrying you to the bedroom right after.”

Y/N blinked.

Eyes wide.

Her brain bluescreened.

The villain queen persona she had so carefully crafted sputtered like a dying campfire. Her cheeks lit up in a furious blush, her grip faltering just slightly—just enough.

Boom!

In one smooth, graceful move, Jinwoo spun her around, locked her arms, and pinned her down gently against the stone floor. He didn’t slam her—he didn’t need to. Just enough to assert victory… and to let her feel that whisper all over again.

Y/N stared up at him, flustered, hair splayed dramatically, breath caught.

“You…” she hissed under her breath, face glowing red. “You cheated.”

Jinwoo gave her a slow, smug smile. “You love it.”

And then—

“YAAAHH!!”

A tiny warrior’s cry echoed across the chamber.

Suho ran toward them, his wooden sword raised high. He dashed right up to his mother, gently *bap!*ing her side with the weapon.

“Take that, dungeon boss!!” he shouted, standing tall and proud. “I’ve defeated the queen!”

Y/N turned her head and looked up at her son.

Her beautiful, precious, chaotic son.

“I’ve been… defeated,” she declared in a dramatic gasp, still pinned under Jinwoo. “By the tiniest warrior of them all…”

Suho threw his hands in the air. “VICTORY!!!”

The shadows erupted into applause—dramatic, over-the-top, very much encouraged by Beru.

Jinwoo let go and helped Y/N sit up. She was still red, but now laughing, brushing her hair back.

“Remind me to ban you from whispering during combat,” she grumbled, smiling in defeat.

Jinwoo gave her a wink. “No promises.”

Just as Suho raised his little wooden sword in victory, the entire dungeon suddenly burst into color.

BOOM! FWWWHHH!!

Magical fireworks erupted in the ceiling—courtesy of Tusk, who conjured glittering sparks and shimmering lights that danced like stars. A wave of golden confetti rained down from above, sparkling in the dungeon light like tiny blessings from the heavens.

Bellion and Igris stood straight and proud behind him, as if this was the most sacred event they’d ever witnessed.

“🎉🎉✨✨HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOUNG MASTER!!!✨✨🎉🎉”

Beru made a grand entrance with both arms dramatically spread wide—balanced perfectly on one clawed hand was a large, beautifully decorated cake. It was absurdly perfect, glowing slightly from the enchantments Tusk put in. There were miniature shadow knights on top of it, one even doing a tiny dab.

Y/N blinked at the confetti in her hair and then turned to Jinwoo. "Did you plan this?"

He just smiled as he helped her to her feet, brushing off her back. “I had help.”

Together, they walked over and joined Suho as everyone began to sing, slightly off-key but full of heart:

Suho’s cheeks puffed with excitement as he looked around, eyes wide, sparkling. His parents stood behind him, each with a hand on his shoulder. Beru presented the cake with a flourish.

“Happy birthday to you~

Happy birthday to you~

Happy birthday, dear Suhoooo~

Happy birthday to youuuuu~!”

“Go ahead, young master,” Beru said with over-the-top reverence, “Make a wish and blow the candles.”

Suho squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t even need to think hard—his wish had already come true.

He took a deep breath and—

“Huuuuh—PFFF!!”

Out went the candles.

Cheers erupted. The shadows clapped. Tusk made the fireworks explode in the shape of a heart. Iron did a backflip for some reason.

Then Suho turned and hugged both his parents tightly, burying his face between them.

Y/N felt a lump in her throat. Jinwoo gently wrapped both arms around his son and wife, holding them close.

“Thank you,” he whispered, muffled but full of sincerity.

“This is perfect. I love you sooooo much!”

This moment—this silly, magical, loving moment—was everything.

Tank gently rolled a celebratory banner out of nowhere.

And somewhere behind them, Beru was dramatically sobbing.

“Such a blessed day!! THE YOUNG MASTER HAS BLOOMED INTO GLORY!!”

After a long, joyful day of celebrations, the evening winds down with the family finally settling in. Suho had fallen asleep with frosting still on his cheek, surrounded by stuffed shadows and one very dramatic Beru acting as a pillow.

The house had grown quiet, save for the gentle sound of running water and clinking dishes in the kitchen.

Y/N stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, humming softly to herself as she washed the remaining dishes. Her battle suit was long gone, replaced by one of Jinwoo’s oversized black shirts, practically drowning her but making her look even more adorable.

She didn’t notice him approach.

Jinwoo snuck up behind her, warm arms snaking around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, his voice low and gentle against her skin.

“Everything’s taken care of. No more mess, no more trash,” he murmured.

Y/N giggled, leaning back into his embrace. “You do too much already, Jinwoo,” she whispered, voice soaked in fondness. “You’re always so hard on yourself.”

Jinwoo chuckled softly, pressing another kiss just below her ear. “I’m just trying to do my best.”

Y/N turned in his arms, looking up at him with eyes that could melt steel. She reached up, cupping his face with wet, soap-scented hands.

“You’re doing amazing,” she said, voice full of quiet conviction.

“As a husband, as a father… you’re perfect.”

Jinwoo blushed faintly, eyes flickering away, then back to her. She grinned.

“I keep falling more in love with you,” she added, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Level 999+.”

He laughed, low and warm, and leaned in to steal a quick kiss.

“Thank you, Y/N. For always believing in me.”

Then, with a little teasing smirk, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear—

“By the way… during our little duel earlier… Remember what I said?”

Y/N blinked, then her eyes widened just a little.

He grinned. “You looked so hot in that outfit, I almost forgot it was pretend.”

Her cheeks flared red. “Y-You…!” She tried to swat at him with the dish towel, but he caught her wrist and laughed.

Still holding her close, he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck and whispered again, this time with a glint of suggestion in his voice.

“We should take a bath together. The final raid of the day.”

Y/N buried her face in his chest with a dramatic groan. “You're impossible.”

He smirked. “You love it.”

She looked up, unable to hide her smile. “Unfortunately… I do.”

Jinwoo chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Let’s go, villain queen. Time to wash off the battlefield.”

Jinwoo chuckles, the sound warm and full of affection. He pulls back slightly to look at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement at how easily he still makes her blush. “You’re so cute,” he says with a grin, his heart swelling at how genuine and loving she is, even in these simple moments.

Y/N gives him a playful, half-shy look, biting her lip to suppress a smile. “Stop teasing me,” she mutters, but there’s a softness in her voice that betrays how much she loves these little moments of closeness between them.

Jinwoo laughs again, the sound of it full of warmth and joy, and gently pulls her closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re too easy to tease,” he says, kissing her cheek tenderly.

She rolls her eyes with a grin, still holding onto that blush, but can’t help feeling grateful for this gentle, affectionate side of him. She leans back into his embrace, feeling truly at peace. “Alright, alright… but only because I’m so tired from today,” she teases, her voice teasing but affectionate.

“Of course,” Jinwoo says with a smile, “But you know, a bath with you is just the perfect way to end the day.”

As they leave the kitchen, side by side, the warmth between them is palpable, the bond they share growing stronger with every passing day.

Jinwoo gently leads Y/N toward their bedroom’s bathroom, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. He had already prepared everything—he knew how much she appreciated a calming atmosphere, especially after a long, hectic day. As they enter the room, the soft glow of scented candles flickers around the space, casting a warm, intimate light. The soothing scent of lavender fills the air, mixing with the subtle fragrance of rose petals floating in the lukewarm water of the tub. The room feels like a peaceful sanctuary, the air rich with relaxation.

Jinwoo smiles as he watches Y/N take in the comforting atmosphere. “Everything’s ready,” he says softly, his voice a calm reassurance. “I thought you might like a little extra tonight.”

Y/N gazes around the room, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she breathes in the calming scents. Her shoulders relax immediately, the tension from the day melting away. “This is perfect,” she whispers, turning to Jinwoo with eyes filled with affection. “Thank you.”

Jinwoo simply nods, his heart swelling as he watches her unwind. He gestures toward the tub, stepping aside to allow her to climb in first. He follows her in, carefully adjusting the water and making sure it’s the right temperature, before sitting behind her, wrapping his arms around her as they settle into the warm water.

Y/N leans back into his chest, her body immediately relaxing at the comfort of his embrace. She closes her eyes, sighing in contentment as she rests her head against his shoulder. The warmth of the water, the calming scent of lavender, and Jinwoo’s steady presence all come together in a perfect moment of peace.

Jinwoo holds her close, his hands gently massaging her shoulders, his touch tender and loving. They don’t need to say much—just the shared quiet, the soft rhythm of their breathing, and the occasional murmur of affection. Y/N leans into him even more, the closeness of the moment enveloping her, feeling completely safe in his arms.

“This is perfect,” she murmurs again, her voice filled with quiet joy. “I could stay here forever.”

Jinwoo smiles softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re perfect,” he whispers back, his voice low and sincere. “Everything about you.”

Y/N smiles, her heart full. She feels a sense of tranquility she hasn’t known in a long while, the weight of the day’s events slipping away. In this quiet moment, everything feels right. She holds his hand, squeezing it gently, knowing that, no matter what, they’ll face everything together.

The candlelight flickers gently around them, and for a moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. All that matters is the warmth between them, their hearts in sync, and the peace they’ve found in each other’s arms.

As they relax in the bath, Jinwoo’s tender kisses move from Y/N’s lips to her neck, trailing slowly down her shoulder. His hands gently roam her body, his touch careful and loving, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. Y/N giggles softly, the sensation making her shiver slightly, but she leans into him, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Before he can fully lose himself in the moment, Y/N playfully turns in his arms, straddling him. Her arms rest on his shoulders as she gazes down at him, her smile filled with warmth and teasing. “You know, Jinwoo… you’re so perfect and I’m so lucky,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Jinwoo chuckles, clearly enjoying her attention. “All for you,” he murmurs softly, his voice full of affection.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Mmmp! Your handsomeness is too problematic,” she teases, poking fun at the memories of battles they’ve fought. “Remember the Bitch of Echoes? Good thing I crashed her,” she says, her tone playful, but her eyes soft with love.

Jinwoo laughs heartily, the sound full of warmth and amusement. But just as he’s about to respond, he’s caught off guard by a sudden bite to his shoulder. Y/N’s teeth press against his skin, hard enough to leave a mark, and Jinwoo groans in pain, his body tensing slightly from the unexpected action.

Y/N pulls away, her eyes gleaming with mischievous pride. “You’re mine,” she whispers, teasing him further as she leans in close.

But as their eyes meet, something shifts in the air. Jinwoo’s gaze darkens, a flicker of something primal flashing in his eyes—hunger, desire, a quiet intensity that causes the atmosphere between them to change. Y/N, for the first time, feels a shiver of anticipation run through her, the playful moment now giving way to something deeper.

For a brief moment, everything seems to still, the world outside their little bubble fading away. They are left only with each other, the heat of the water, the closeness of their bodies, and the electric tension between them. The bond they share is undeniable, and in this moment, it feels stronger than ever.

“Jinwoo…” Y/N breathes, her voice suddenly soft and steady, as she watches him, her heart racing slightly.

The air between them thickens with tension as Jinwoo’s gaze darkens, his primal hunger igniting a fire in Y/N that she can’t ignore. His hands, strong and possessive, tighten on her hips, pulling her so close that the warmth of their bodies overshadows the water surrounding them. Y/N shivers, not from the chill but from the raw intensity in his eyes, the way he looks at her like she’s his entire world.

“Y/N,” he whispers, his voice a low, rough murmur that sends a shiver down her spine. Before she can respond, his lips find hers, hungry but careful, his tongue sliding against hers in a silent plea. She moans softly into his mouth, a quiet “Mmm,” that vibrates against his lips, and he responds by deepening the kiss, his hands roaming her body with a restrained urgency.

She shifts to straddle him, her thighs bracketing his hips as she lowers herself onto him. Her arms loop around his shoulders for support, fingers digging into his muscular back as she feels the first stretch of him inside her. “Jinwoo—ohh,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper, the fullness of him making her tremble. “You’re so big… so deep…”

Jinwoo groans quietly, his head tipping back slightly as her warmth envelops him, but his hands guide her gently, encouraging her to move. Each roll of her hips draws a soft, breathy moan from her lips—“Ahh, yes, Jinwoo”—a sound so low it’s almost lost in the gentle lapping of the water. She feels so full, so utterly claimed, and it’s all she can do to hold on, her nails scraping lightly against his skin as she finds a rhythm.

But Jinwoo’s desire takes over. His lips find her neck, hot and insistent, and he begins to mark her with slow, deliberate kisses. “I love you so much,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice a hushed chant of devotion. “So much, Y/N—you’re everything to me.” His teeth graze her pulse point, then press down just enough to leave a faint mark, and she gasps, a soft “Ohh, Jinwoo” escaping her lips.

He moves lower, his mouth latching onto her chest, sucking and nipping at her breasts until she’s trembling above him. “Love you, love you, love you,” he whispers between each mark, each bruise that will bloom later a silent testament to his passion. Her moans are quieter now, a series of soft “Mmm, yes, I love you too” as she rides him, her body rocking against his in a steady, careful rhythm.

But as the pleasure builds, her voice threatens to rise, a louder “Ahh!” slipping out as he thrusts up to meet her. Jinwoo’s hand flies to her mouth, his fingers pressing gently against her lips as he hushes her. “Shh, love,” he whispers urgently, his eyes soft but serious. “Our son’s sleeping. We can’t wake him.”

Y/N nods, her breath hitching as she bites her lip to stifle another moan. “Sorry,” she murmurs, her voice trembling with both desire and embarrassment, but the fire in her eyes doesn’t dim. She leans in, kissing him deeply to muffle her sounds, her hips moving faster now, more desperate.

Jinwoo’s control frays, and with a careful but firm motion, he lifts her off him, turning her around so she’s facing away, her hands scrambling to grip the edge of the tub. “Hold on,” he whispers, his voice dark and commanding, and she obeys, her fingers curling around the slick tiles in a silent promise.

He enters her from behind, his thrust slow at first but quickly building to a fast, rough rhythm that makes her breath catch. “Jinwoo—ohh, please,” she whispers, her voice barely audible but heavy with need, her knuckles whitening as she clings to the tub like it’s her lifeline. Each movement is deep and urgent, his hips pressing against her with a controlled intensity that sends shivers up her spine.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his hands gripping her hips tightly but gently, guiding her through the storm of pleasure. Her moans are soft now, a series of quiet “Mmm, yes, more” and “Ohh, Jinwoo,” muffled against her arm as she buries her face to stay silent. He leans forward, his lips brushing her ear as he whispers, “You’re mine, Y/N. Always.”

The pressure builds until she can’t hold back, her body tensing as a soft, shuddering moan escapes her—“Jinwoo”—her climax hitting her like a wave, quiet but overwhelming. He follows moments later, his own release a low, muffled groan against her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her as they both tremble in the aftermath.

They stay like that, breathless and still, the water gently lapping at their skin. Y/N’s grip on the tub loosens, and Jinwoo pulls her back against his chest, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the marks he’s left on her neck. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice soft and full of warmth.

“Love you too,” she replies, her voice just as quiet, a smile tugging at her lips as they share a moment of perfect, silent intimacy.

The house feels whole.

Y/N closes her eyes, resting her forehead against Jinwoo’s, their fingers laced underwater.

No more worries tonight. No battles to fight. Just them.

Together.

As it should be.

Echoes of Fate (2) | END

Y/N had just stepped inside her apartment, the door clicking softly behind her as she leaned against it, exhaling a heavy sigh. Her night had been… interesting, but not in the way she had hoped. The dinner party with her all-girls group was filled with laughs, gossip, and endless chatter about boyfriends, exes, and past flings. Y/N, as always, sat in the corner, nodding along but feeling more out of place than she had ever felt before.

She wasn’t like them. She had never been in a relationship. No first date, no first kiss, no nothing. And every time the conversation turned towards love lives, she was forced to fake it. To smile and nod and offer some half-baked story that wasn’t true, just so she wouldn’t feel like the odd one out. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to have a boyfriend or fall in love—she did. But somehow, it just never happened.

“I just want someone to share everything with. To love me, and to… you know… be there, in every way,” she muttered aloud, pouring herself a glass of water. “I can’t believe they just… have it all. I want to experience love, intimacy, everything.”

As she took a sip, a mischievous thought crossed her mind. A strange thought, one she didn’t really believe was possible, but it was just a fleeting fantasy. "If only I could summon someone like those LADS guys. Maybe they’d actually care about me, be jealous even."

The LADS men, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, and Caleb—her ultimate fantasy. Each one different, but all incredibly charming, caring, and perfect. She had heard about them through random stories and rumors. They were known for their good looks, their smarts, their personalities—everything. But they were just... too good to be real.

But what if?

Y/N snorted, shaking her head as she placed the glass on the kitchen counter, heading toward her bedroom. “Yeah, right… as if I could summon them into my life. That’d be crazy.”

But as soon as the words left her lips, the atmosphere around her shifted. The air seemed to grow heavier, as if a presence was suddenly filling the room. Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat, when she heard the soft sound of footsteps behind her.

Turning around, she froze.

There, standing in her living room, were the five men she had been daydreaming about: Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, and Caleb. All five of them were real.

Xavier’s piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, a smirk playing on his lips. Rafayel was leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, though his intense gaze softened when he looked at her. Zayne was standing with his hands in his pockets, a curious glint in his hazel-green eyes. Sylus stood tall, his confident posture radiating power, while Caleb’s relaxed and easygoing demeanor contrasted with the others.

“You called?” Xavier’s voice was smooth, almost like velvet, but laced with something playful.

Y/N’s mind raced, her heart pounding. “W-what… What are you doing here? How—How are you here?”

Zayne laughed softly. “We don’t exactly know how, but we are here.”

“And it seems you were wishing for us,” Rafayel added, his voice warm and teasing. “So here we are, at your service, sweetheart.”

Y/N could hardly believe it. Her breath hitched in her throat. Was this real? Could this be real?

“Wait—wait!” she stammered, raising her hands. “This is insane! You’re... you’re the LADS. But I—this doesn’t make any sense! I wasn’t serious! I mean, I just—”

Sylus interrupted her, his smirk never faltering. “Don’t worry. We understand. A wish is a wish, and sometimes, they come true.”

Caleb stepped forward, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “You seem confused, but hey, we’re here now, right? What do you want from us?”

Y/N took a step back, heart still racing. “I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s alright,” Xavier said, his voice soothing yet filled with an undertone of something more. “We can help you with that. If you need someone to talk to… or more… we’re here.”

Y/N blinked, unsure whether her mind was playing tricks on her or whether this was actually happening. The men were all so close now, their eyes locked onto hers in a way that made her feel both nervous and... strangely safe.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Zayne said with a grin, “just let us know how we can be of service.”

A flood of emotions washed over Y/N. She had dreamed of this. Of having these five incredible men around her, caring for her, sharing their attention with her. She had fantasized about love, intimacy, everything they were offering without even realizing it.

But she was scared. What if they were just here because of some bizarre twist of fate? What if they weren’t real at all, but just a product of her lonely thoughts?

“Are you real?” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

In unison, the men stepped closer, surrounding her in a circle. Caleb’s hand gently cupped her chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze. “Does it really matter if we’re real or not? If we make you feel wanted, loved, desired… isn’t that what matters?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” Sylus said, his voice low and intense. “Say yes to us. We’ll give you everything you need.”

And for the first time that night, Y/N didn’t feel alone anymore. She didn’t feel out of place. She felt like she finally belonged.

“Yes…..”

Y/N had always been the quiet type, her days spent lost in daydreams rather than tangled in the messy realities of desire. She’d never imagined herself in a situation like this—surrounded by five breathtaking men, each one gazing at her with a hunger that made her pulse race. Xavier, with his soft blonde hair and piercing blue eyes; Rafayel, the playful artist with a smirk that promised trouble; Zayne, cool and composed with an intensity that unnerved her; Sylus, dark and commanding, his presence filling the room; and Caleb, her childhood friend, whose familiar warmth now carried an edge of something wilder. Tonight, they’d made it clear: they wanted her, all of her, and they wouldn’t stop until she was theirs.

Her breath hitched as Sylus stepped forward, his large hand tilting her chin up. “You’re trembling, Y/N,” he murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “Don’t be afraid. We’ll take care of you.” Before she could respond, he claimed her lips in a kiss that was both possessive and tender, igniting a fire she didn’t know she had.

Y/N barely registered the others moving closer until she felt Xavier’s hands on her shoulders, guiding her gently to the plush bed in the center of the room. “Relax,” he whispered, his voice soothing as he eased her down. Her heart pounded—she’d never done this before, never even thought of it—and yet, the heat pooling between her thighs told her she wanted it more than she could admit.

Sylus knelt between her legs, his strong hands parting her thighs as he gazed at her with a mix of reverence and raw desire. “So innocent,” he said, his fingers brushing against her untouched core, making her gasp. “Let’s change that.” With a slow, deliberate motion, he lowered himself, and Y/N cried out as she felt the thick, hard length of him pressing against her entrance. He entered her carefully at first, stretching her virgin walls, the sensation a dizzying mix of pleasure and a slight sting. She clutched the sheets, overwhelmed, until Xavier leaned down to kiss her forehead, murmuring, “You’re doing so well.”

As Sylus began to move, filling her completely, Rafayel climbed onto the bed, his mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Can’t let him have all the fun,” he teased, positioning himself in front of her. Y/N’s eyes widened as he guided her head toward his erect cock, the tip glistening with anticipation. “Open for me, princess,” he coaxed, and, hesitantly, she parted her lips. The taste of him was new, salty and warm, and as she took him deeper, Rafayel groaned, threading his fingers through her hair.

Her body rocked between them—Sylus thrusting into her from below, each movement sending waves of pleasure through her, while Rafayel filled her mouth, teaching her how to please him with every swirl of her tongue. She felt utterly claimed, her innocence unraveling with every second.

Then came Zayne. Cool fingers traced her spine before settling on her hips, and she felt a new pressure at her back. “Breathe, Y/N,” he instructed, his voice steady as he prepared her. She whimpered around Rafayel as Zayne eased into her tight, untouched rear, the sensation foreign and intense. He moved slowly, letting her adjust, and soon the discomfort melted into a strange, intoxicating fullness. She was stretched beyond what she’d ever imagined, every hole claimed by these men who seemed to know exactly how to unravel her.

Caleb, ever the gentle one, knelt beside her, his familiar brown eyes locking with hers. “You’re beautiful like this,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He guided her hand to his throbbing length, and she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him as he groaned her name. The sound sent a thrill through her—she was doing this, pleasing them all.

Xavier took his place at her side, his lips finding her breasts. He sucked and teased her nipples until they hardened, adding another layer of sensation to the chaos consuming her. Y/N’s mind spun, her body no longer her own but a vessel for their desires—and hers. She was sitting on Sylus’s cock, taking Rafayel in her mouth, Zayne buried deep in her ass, Caleb pulsing in her hand, and Xavier worshipping her chest. Every thrust, every moan, every touch pushed her closer to an edge she’d never known existed.

Her first orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her cries muffled around Rafayel as her body clenched around Sylus and Zayne. They didn’t stop, driving her through it until she was trembling, tears of pleasure streaking her cheeks. One by one, they followed—Sylus growling as he spilled inside her, Rafayel’s release coating her tongue, Zayne’s grip tightening as he came, Caleb painting her hand, and Xavier shuddering against her skin.

Y/N barely had time to catch her breath before the air shifted, charged with a new wave of hunger. The men exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them—they weren’t done with her yet. Her body still trembled from the first round, slick with sweat and their release, but they weren’t satisfied. They wanted to feel every part of her, to leave no corner of her untouched, and the thought alone reignited the fire in their eyes.

Sylus pulled out with a low growl, his hands gripping her hips as he flipped her onto her stomach. “You’re ours, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. Before she could process the shift, Rafayel slid beneath her, his lithe body aligning with hers. He grabbed her waist and yanked her down onto his cock, impaling her with a single, forceful thrust that made her scream. “That’s it, princess,” he panted, his usual playfulness replaced by a feral edge as he bucked up into her, hard and fast. Her walls, already sensitive from Sylus, clenched around him, the overstimulation making her head spin.

Xavier moved to her front, his gentle demeanor gone as he fisted her hair and tilted her head back. “Open wide,” he commanded, and she obeyed, her lips parting just in time for him to push his thick length into her mouth. He didn’t hold back, thrusting deep until she gagged, tears spilling from her eyes. The taste of him mixed with the lingering salt of Rafayel, and she couldn’t tell where one sensation ended and another began.

Zayne, ever precise, took Sylus’s place behind her. His hands spread her cheeks, and without warning, he slammed into her ass, the roughness a stark contrast to his earlier care. Y/N whimpered around Xavier, the brutal stretch sending jolts of pain and pleasure through her. Zayne’s pace was relentless, each thrust driving her forward onto Rafayel, who matched him with equal ferocity. She was trapped between them, their rhythms syncing into a punishing dance that left her gasping for air.

Caleb, no longer the soft friend she’d known, positioned himself at her side. He grabbed her hand and forced it around his cock again, but this time he guided her with urgency, his grip tight as he fucked her fist. “Harder, Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick with lust, and she tried to comply, her fingers trembling as she stroked him.

Sylus, not one to be left out, knelt beside her, his large hand cupping her breast before pinching her nipple hard enough to make her cry out. He leaned down, his teeth grazing her ear as he murmured, “You’re taking us so well.” His other hand slipped between her legs, finding her clit and rubbing it in rough, frantic circles that sent shocks through her already overwhelmed body.

Y/N couldn’t keep track anymore. The room was a blur of grunts, moans, and the wet slap of skin against skin. Rafayel pounded into her core, Zayne claimed her ass, Xavier fucked her throat, Caleb used her hand, and Sylus tormented her senses with his touch. They moved faster, rougher, their excitement feeding off her helpless whimpers and the way her body shook beneath them. She didn’t know who was inside her anymore—every thrust, every invasion blended into a single, relentless storm of sensation.

Her second orgasm ripped through her without warning, more intense than the first, her scream muffled by Xavier’s cock as her body convulsed. Her vision blurred, her mind blanking as wave after wave of pleasure—or was it pain?—crashed over her. She felt them losing control too, their movements growing erratic. Rafayel cursed as he came inside her, his hips jerking wildly. Zayne followed, a guttural groan escaping him as he filled her ass. Xavier gripped her hair tighter, spilling down her throat with a shuddering moan. Caleb’s release coated her hand and chest, hot and sticky, while Sylus’s relentless fingers pushed her into a third, mind-shattering climax that left her sobbing.

They didn’t stop. Not yet. They switched again—Zayne taking her mouth, Sylus slamming into her core, Caleb claiming her ass, Rafayel in her hand, Xavier at her breasts—each one determined to mark her as theirs. Y/N was lost, drowning in the flood of their desire, her body no longer her own but a vessel for their pleasure. She couldn’t tell who was who, only that they were everywhere, inside her, around her, consuming her until she was nothing but a trembling, moaning mess.

When they finally slowed, her body was limp, her voice hoarse, her mind a haze. They collapsed around her, panting, their hands still roaming her skin as if they couldn’t get enough. Y/N lay there, utterly spent, her innocence long gone, replaced by a raw, aching satisfaction she’d never dreamed possible.

Y/N lay sprawled across the bed, her body quivering from the relentless onslaught she’d just endured. Her chest heaved, her skin flushed and slick with sweat and their combined releases. Rafayel, Sylus, and Zayne had pulled back, their breathing heavy as they watched her with a mix of satisfaction and awe. She thought it might be over—her mind was a fog, her body aching in ways she’d never imagined—but then she heard a low, playful chuckle.

Xavier leaned over her, his blue eyes glinting with mischief as he brushed a damp strand of hair from her face. “You didn’t think we’d miss out, did you?” he teased, his voice husky with unspent desire. Beside him, Caleb grinned, his familiar features twisted with a hunger that made her stomach flip. “Not a chance,” he added, his tone rougher than she’d ever heard it.

Before she could protest—though she wasn’t sure she had the strength to—Xavier slid beneath her, pulling her limp form onto his lap. His cock, hard and insistent, pressed against her already swollen entrance. She whimpered, her body protesting even as a fresh wave of heat stirred within her. “Wait—” she started, but Caleb cut her off with a gentle yet firm hand on her back, pushing her forward until she was chest-to-chest with Xavier.

“We’ve got you,” Caleb murmured, positioning himself behind her. Y/N’s breath caught as she realized what they intended. Xavier guided himself into her first, sliding into her soaked, sensitive core with a groan. She gasped, her walls fluttering around him, still tender from Sylus and Rafayel. But then Caleb pressed in, his thick length joining Xavier’s, stretching her pussy beyond what she thought possible. The double penetration was overwhelming, a sharp burn melding with a deep, pulsing pleasure that made her cry out.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Xavier gritted out, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust up into her. Caleb matched his rhythm, their cocks sliding against each other inside her, filling her completely. Y/N clawed at Xavier’s shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as her body struggled to accommodate them. It was too much—too full, too intense—and yet she couldn’t stop the moans spilling from her lips, her mind lost to the sensation.

From the sidelines, Rafayel whistled, sprawling back with a lazy grin. “Take it easy on her, you two.” he called, though the amusement in his voice suggested he wasn’t too worried. Sylus, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, smirked. “They won’t listen. But don’t break her—she’s ours too.” His dark eyes softened slightly as they lingered on Y/N, a rare hint of concern breaking through his usual intensity.

Zayne, ever the composed one, stepped forward, his cool gaze assessing her trembling form. “They’ll be done soon,” he said calmly, then turned to the others. “I’ll prepare a warm bath for her. She’ll need it after this.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a gentleness there that made Y/N’s heart stutter, even amidst the chaos of Xavier and Caleb’s relentless thrusts.

Sylus pushed off the wall, running a hand through his hair. “And I’ll make dinner. She’s going to need something hearty after you lot are through with her.” His deep voice carried a note of command, as if he were already planning how to piece her back together after they’d taken her apart.

Xavier and Caleb didn’t slow, though. If anything, the others’ words spurred them on. “Almost there,” Caleb panted, his hands bruising her hips as he drove into her harder. Xavier’s head tipped back, a low moan escaping him as he felt her tighten around them both. “God, Y/N—you feel so good,” he gasped, his thrusts growing erratic. The pressure built inside her again, a fourth orgasm coiling tight despite her exhaustion, and when it hit, she screamed, her body shaking violently between them. The sensation tipped them over the edge—Xavier came first, flooding her with his release, followed by Caleb, their hot seed mixing inside her as they groaned in unison.

When they finally stilled, Y/N collapsed onto Xavier’s chest, her breath ragged, her body limp and dripping. Caleb pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder before pulling out, and Xavier gently eased her off him, laying her back on the bed. She was a mess—hair tangled, skin marked, every part of her claimed and aching—but the look in their eyes was one of reverence, not just lust.

Zayne approached first, scooping her up in his arms with surprising tenderness. “Time to clean you up,” he said quietly, carrying her toward the bathroom where the sound of running water promised relief. Sylus disappeared into the kitchen, the clatter of pots signaling his shift into caretaker mode. Rafayel flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, muttering, “Well, that was a masterpiece,” while Xavier and Caleb exchanged a satisfied glance, still catching their breath.

Y/N barely registered it all, her mind adrift in a haze of exhaustion and lingering pleasure. She’d never imagined her first time—or any time—could be like this, but as Zayne lowered her into the warm bath and the scent of Sylus’s cooking drifted through the air, she felt something new: not just taken, but cherished.

The steam from the bath curled around Y/N as Zayne held her steady in the warm water, his hands gentle but firm as he washed away the evidence of their earlier fervor. Her body felt heavy, every muscle spent, and her eyelids fluttered with the weight of exhaustion. She barely noticed when Rafayel slipped into the bathroom, his usual playful demeanor softened into something quieter, more reverent.

“Thought you could use a hand,” Rafayel said to Zayne, his voice low as he grabbed a soft sponge from the edge of the tub. Zayne nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She’s earned some rest,” he replied, his tone steady as he worked the soap over her shoulders. Together, they tended to her—Zayne rinsing the sweat and stickiness from her skin while Rafayel gently scrubbed her arms, his touch light and careful. The water lapped around her, soothing the ache between her legs and the soreness in her limbs, and she let out a small, contented sigh.

Rafayel chuckled softly. “Look at you, all worn out,” he murmured, but there was no teasing in it—just a warmth that made her feel safe. He dipped the sponge into the water, squeezing it over her back, letting the warmth cascade down her spine. Zayne worked a dollop of shampoo into her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp with a precision that melted the last of her tension. Y/N’s head lolled against his hand, her mind drifting in the haze of their care.

When they finished, Zayne lifted her from the tub, wrapping her in a thick, fluffy towel. Her legs wobbled, too weak to hold her weight, so Rafayel stepped in, scooping her up in his arms with an ease that belied his lean frame. “I’ve got her,” he said to Zayne, who nodded and began tidying the bathroom, ever the practical one. Rafayel carried her to the bedroom, her damp hair clinging to his shoulder as she nestled against him, too tired to speak.

The bed was freshly made—someone, probably Xavier or Caleb, had changed the sheets—and Rafayel laid her down with a gentleness that felt almost foreign after the roughness she’d endured. He pulled the blankets up over her, tucking them around her shoulders as if she were something precious. “Sleep well, princess,” he whispered, brushing a kiss against her forehead. Then, as he sat beside her, he began to hum—a soft, lilting melody that seemed to ripple through the air like waves on a distant shore.

It was a Lemurian song, he’d once told her, one his people sang to express love and wish for sweet dreams. The notes were haunting yet comforting, weaving a cocoon of peace around her. Y/N’s breathing slowed, her body sinking deeper into the mattress as the melody wrapped her in its embrace. Rafayel’s voice was steady, a quiet anchor in the storm of her fading consciousness, and she felt the last threads of tension slip away.

Zayne stepped into the room, pausing at the doorway to watch. “She’s out,” he observed, his voice barely above a whisper. Rafayel nodded, still humming as he smoothed a hand over her hair. “Good. She deserves it.” The song tapered off, leaving a gentle silence in its wake, and Y/N slipped fully into a deep, dreamless sleep—her body and mind finally at rest after the wild, overwhelming night.

From the kitchen, the faint clatter of Sylus cooking drifted in, mingling with the soft murmurs of Xavier and Caleb as they likely recounted the evening with smug satisfaction. But in the bedroom, it was just her, Rafayel, and Zayne, the chaos giving way to calm. Rafayel lingered a moment longer, his hand resting lightly on her arm, before he stood and joined Zayne at the door. “Let’s let her sleep,” Zayne said, and with one last glance at her peaceful form, they slipped out, closing the door behind them.

Y/N slept deeply, the Lemurian lullaby echoing faintly in her dreams, a promise of love and serenity after the storm.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, but it did little to ease the heaviness that settled over Y/N as she stirred awake. Her body ached—oh, how it ached. A dull throb pulsed between her legs, her lower back screamed as if she’d run a marathon, and her thighs felt like they might give out if she dared to stand. She groaned, shifting under the blankets, her mind foggy with the remnants of sleep. Then, like a floodgate bursting open, the memories of last night rushed in.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open. “No way,” she muttered, her voice hoarse. She’d dreamed of them—Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, and Caleb—wild, explicit, and so vivid it felt real. The way they’d taken her, every touch, every thrust, every overwhelming sensation… She pressed a hand to her flushed face, shaking her head. “That’s insane. I’m delulu. This is getting concerning.” She chalked it up to her overactive imagination, a product of too much time spent in Love and Deepspace. A ridiculous, smutty fantasy. Right?

But as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, a sharp twinge shot through her core, making her wince. She shuffled to the bathroom, her movements stiff and unsteady, brushing it off as maybe sleeping wrong—until she sat on the toilet. That’s when she felt it: a slow, sticky drip. Her breath caught as she glanced down, her heart lurching. A white, viscous liquid trickled from her, not just from her core but from her ass too. Panic clawed at her chest. “What the hell?” she whispered, her hands trembling as she wiped herself, the evidence undeniable. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t a dream’s aftermath.

She stumbled to the mirror, her pulse racing, and yanked up her shirt. There they were—marks. Faint bruises on her hips, a red bite mark on her shoulder, a scattering of hickeys across her chest. Her reflection stared back, wide-eyed and pale. “How… how is this possible?” she stammered, touching the marks as if they might vanish. Her mind spun, grasping for logic. Had she gone out last night? Blacked out? No, she’d been home, playing the game, then… sleeping. Or so she thought.

In a daze, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and fumbled to open the Love and Deepspace app, her fingers shaking. The screen loaded, and there was Rafayel—sprawled across a sofa on the home interface, his head tipped back, mouth slightly open as he slept. He looked exhausted, his shirt rumpled, a faint flush on his cheeks. “What the…” she muttered, staring at him. Then, on impulse, she tapped the messages icon.

Her inbox was flooded. Messages from all of them, timestamped from the early hours of the morning:

Xavier: “Hey, you okay? Last night was… intense. Left some water and painkillers by your bed.”

Zayne: “Take it easy today. Your body will need time to recover. Let me know if you feel unwell.”

Sylus: “Food’s in the fridge. Heat it up when you’re up. Don’t push yourself.”

Caleb: “You were amazing. Rest up, alright? We’re here if you need us.”

Rafayel: “Sweet dreams, princess. Hope the song helped. Tell me you’re not sore too bad?”

Y/N’s phone nearly slipped from her hand. She glanced at her bedside table—sure enough, a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers sat there, untouched. Her gaze darted to the kitchen doorway, where she could just make out the edge of a covered dish on the counter. The bath last night, the humming, the care—it hadn’t been a dream. It was real. They were real.

She sank onto the bed, her mind reeling. The game. The app. Somehow, they’d crossed over—Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, Caleb—they’d been here, in her room, in her body. The ache, the marks, the dripping evidence… it all clicked into place with terrifying clarity. “This is insane,” she whispered, clutching her phone. “I need a doctor. Or a priest. Or… something.”

But as she stared at Rafayel’s sleeping form on the screen, his chest rising and falling in soft breaths, a strange calm settled over her. They’d checked on her. They’d cared for her. Whatever this was—magic, a glitch, a fevered miracle—they hadn’t left her alone in it. She typed a shaky reply into the chat: “I’m… alive. Sore. Confused. What happened?”

From the depths of nothingness, a towering figure emerged, her form flickering between existence and oblivion. She was neither whole nor shattered, a silhouette of fractured light and shifting darkness, as if she were a lingering memory of something long lost.

A crown of twisted shadows rested atop her head, and her eyes—sultry yet soulless, filled with echoes of past lives—locked onto Jinwoo with unsettling familiarity.

The Monarch of Echoes.

A deep, guttural snarl tore through the silence. Fenrir, his massive frame tensed, golden eyes burning with hatred, lowered his stance like a predator facing an old foe.

“So it’s you, wretch,” he growled, voice laced with the weight of ancient enmity. “I should have erased you long ago.”

The Monarch of Echoes smirked, her form shifting like smoke caught between dimensions.

“Oh? The Primordial Hunger,” she mused, her tone taunting. “Once a Devourer of All, feared across the realms… and now?” Her gaze flickered to Jinwoo before returning to Fenrir with condescension. “A mere pet of a Monarch.”

Her smirk widened. “How the mighty have fallen.”

Fenrir bared his fangs, his growl deep and threatening. Y/N gripped her scythe tighter, the tension crackling like a storm waiting to break.

Then, the Monarch’s gaze slid to Jinwoo, and something changed.

Her lips curled, not with mockery, but with something deeper. Amusement. Recognition. Fascination.

“Ah… the Shadow Monarch.” Her voice caressed his title, lingering over it like a lover’s whisper. She stepped forward, the darkness rippling around her as if bending to her will. “You look just like him.”

Her tone softened, almost wistful. “Your predecessor, Ashborn… He was magnificent.” A slow sigh escaped her lips, reverent and longing. “A true king. A warrior beyond compare. I admired him deeply.”

Then, as if the warmth in her voice had been a fleeting illusion, her attention shifted.

To Y/N.

And just like that, the air grew cold.

The Monarch of Echoes stared at her, expression turning from curiosity to disdain.

“But you…” Her voice lost all its previous reverence, dripping instead with thinly veiled contempt. “What are you?”

A weight pressed down on Y/N, heavy and suffocating, like something unseen was peeling her apart, searching for answers she herself didn’t have.

The Monarch studied her like one might observe a defect in a masterpiece—something misplaced, something that did not belong.

Then, understanding dawned.

Her smirk returned, sharper than before.

“Ah,” she murmured, voice like silk woven with malice. “I see now.”

She took another step forward, her presence warping the very space around her.

“A flaw. An anomaly. A mistake in the grand design.”

She tilted her head, eyes glinting with amusement.

“How delightful.”

And then—her voice a whisper of cruel intent—

“Shall I erase you next?”

Y/N’ breath hitched.

This bitch.

A sharp pain exploded in her head.

Y/N barely registered the way her knees buckled beneath her, her body sinking to the ground as if the world itself had collapsed around her. A blinding ache tore through her skull, violent and merciless, as if something—someone—was forcefully ripping memories away.

Fragments of thoughts flickered and faded before she could grasp them. Her past, her present—shattering like fragile glass.

Jinwoo was at her side in an instant, his presence grounding even as her mind threatened to unravel. His voice was distant, yet sharp with concern.

His glare snapped back to the Monarch of Echoes, dark and lethal.

The Monarch of Echoes laughed. A sultry, knowing sound—amused, fascinated, utterly delighted by what was happening to Y/N.

Y/N trembled, hands clutching at her head as the pain pulsed through her skull, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Her mind was unraveling, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

She could hear Jinwoo’s voice—distant, warped, like an echo calling from the depths of an abyss.

“Y/N.”

His voice was urgent, sharp with concern. "Y/N, look at me."

But the words barely reached her. They scattered in the fog of her mind, distorted beyond recognition.

Memories flickered and faded.

Her name. His name. The battlefield. The reason they were here.

Everything was slipping away.

And still, the Monarch of Echoes watched, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

Fenrir’s snarl tore through the tension. His golden eyes never left the Monarch as he spoke.

“She’s erasing her,” Fenrir growled, his voice dark and edged with fury.

Jinwoo stiffened. His grip on Y/N tightened.

“What?” His voice was low, dangerous.

Fenrir’s fur bristled, the weight of his ancient knowledge lacing his words with grim certainty.

“The Monarch of Echoes does not kill the body,” he explained, his tone thick with disgust. “She devours what makes you real.”

Jinwoo’s fingers curled into fists.

“She’s consuming her memories,” Fenrir continued. “The essence of who she is.” His gaze flickered to Y/N, who was barely holding on. “If this continues, there will be nothing left. She won’t be Y/N. She won’t be anything.”

Jinwoo’s blood ran cold.

A slow, taunting chuckle pulled his attention back to the Monarch.

“How insightful,” she mused, clearly entertained. “You truly are a relic of the old world, Primordial Hunger. It’s a shame you’re wasted as a mere shadow.”

She tilted her head, watching Y/N with the curiosity of a predator toying with its prey.

“I wonder,” she continued, stepping closer. “What will she become once everything is stripped away? Will she scream? Will she fight? Or…” Her eyes gleamed. “Will she simply fade?”

Jinwoo’s killing intent surged like a tidal wave.

He stepped in front of Y/N, his shadows writhing, the very air around him vibrating with power.

“Touch her,” he said, his voice low and seething, “and I’ll show you what it means to truly disappear.”

The Monarch of Echoes only smiled.

The moment Jinwoo’s killing intent surged, the battlefield trembled. Shadows pooled beneath his feet, stretching outward like an abyss preparing to swallow the world whole. His fingers twitched, itching to summon his blade, to end the being before him.

But the Monarch of Echoes merely smirked.

She lifted a single hand, palm open.

And the void responded.

A deep, guttural wail echoed through the abyss—a sound drenched in sorrow, in torment. The darkness behind the Monarch twisted, convulsed, and then—they came.

Figures began to rise.

At first, they were nothing more than flickers of light and shadow, distorted echoes of warriors long lost. But as they took shape, their forms solidified—tattered armor, broken weapons, hollow eyes filled with eternal grief.

The Fallen.

Jinwoo’s gaze darkened.

The Monarch of Echoes let out a soft chuckle, lifting her chin as she observed her army.

"Do you recognize them, Shadow Monarch?" she purred. "These are the warriors who perished in the great war… the ones your predecessor could not save."

Jinwoo’s grip on his dagger tightened.

"They were strong once," she continued, stepping forward, her voice laced with mock sympathy. "But in the end, they were nothing more than casualties. Forgotten. Cast aside. And now?" Her smile deepened. "They serve me."

At her command, the Fallen charged.

Jinwoo moved in an instant.

He vanished—a blur of darkness—reappearing in the midst of the rushing horde. Arcs of black lightning crackled around his dagger as he swung, carving through the first wave like paper.

The moment his blade met the Fallen, their forms shattered, dispersing into fragments of light—only for them to reform immediately, rising again as if death held no meaning.

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed.

Behind him, Fenrir let out a thunderous roar.

Golden light exploded from his body as he lunged forward, his claws slicing through three of the Fallen in a single motion. But just like before, they reformed.

"Useless," the Monarch of Echoes taunted. "You cannot kill what is already dead."

Jinwoo’s response was swift.

He shadow teleported, reappearing directly in front of her, his blade aimed straight for her throat.

But she merely smiled.

CLANG!

A massive halberd intercepted his strike.

A warrior in jagged, spectral armor—an ancient king, long lost to time—stood between him and the Monarch, his empty eyes glowing with remnants of willpower.

Jinwoo clicked his tongue.

"Tch"

More of them.

From the darkness, a dozen more elite warriors emerged. Knights, warlords, forgotten rulers—all chained to the Monarch’s will.

Jinwoo’s gaze flickered toward Y/N, who was still struggling, her body trembling from the memory theft.

Time was running out.

His jaw tightened. Fine.

If these bastards wouldn’t stay dead—

Then he would do something far worse.

He lifted a hand.

And shadows erupted.

The ground beneath them split open, and from its depths, an army unlike any other rose.

Igris.

Beru.

Bellion.

And thousands more.

Jinwoo’s Shadow Legion materialized in full force, each warrior’s presence crushing against the void like an impending storm.

The Monarch of Echoes’ smirk wavered.

Jinwoo pointed his dagger at her, his voice low and deadly.

"If you want to play with the dead," he said, his gaze cold and merciless, "then let’s see whose army lasts longer."

The battle began.

The battlefield was a storm of endless shadows and echoes.

Jinwoo’s army clashed against the Fallen, the sheer force of their battle shaking the void itself.

Igris danced through the battlefield in a blur of crimson and black, his sword carving through enemy after enemy—only for them to reform seconds later.

Beru shrieked, his claws raking through the spectral warriors, his speed and precision overwhelming—but they would not stay down.

Bellion swung his massive blade, a single strike cleaving through dozens, yet the Monarch of Echoes merely laughed, and her army rose again and again.

And Jinwoo—

He moved like a storm, shadow teleporting across the battlefield, cutting through waves of enemies, his blade unstoppable. But no matter how many he struck down, they never stayed dead.

The Monarch of Echoes stood at the center of it all, untouched, untouchable.

She never needed to move.

With a wave of her hand, the Fallen obeyed.

With a whisper, reality twisted.

And with a single thought, she rained death.

Spears of voidlight shot through the air, piercing through even Jinwoo’s strongest shadows, tearing holes into the ranks of his legion.

She had the upper hand.

She did not need to fight—she only needed to outlast.

And Jinwoo could feel it.

His mana was draining.

Too many summons. Too much power being used.

His breathing was heavier now, his grip on his blade tightening as the frustration built.

He couldn’t reach her.

Every time he tried, more Fallen rose in his way, forcing him back into the endless battle.

And then—

Y/N stopped breathing.

Jinwoo’s entire world froze.

In the chaos of battle, amidst the endless war, he had been calling her name—over and over—but she had not answered.

And now—

She was too calm.

Too still.

Her body, once trembling in pain, now sat eerily motionless.

Her chest did not rise.

Her eyes—once filled with warmth and stubborn fire—were now empty, vacant, hollow.

Jinwoo forgot to breathe.

“Y/N…?”

No response.

His blood turned to ice.

No.

Not again.

Not again.

His vision blurred, but it was not from exhaustion.

It was from the rage.

The grief.

The void had taken his son.

And now—

Now it wanted to take her, too.

The Monarch of Echoes watched his expression shift—watched as frustration turned to something primal. Smiled.

Jinwoo slowly turned his gaze toward her.

Something in the air changed.

His shadows—his very presence—grew heavier.

The battlefield shuddered.

The Monarch of Echoes… blinked.

For the first time—she felt it.

The shift in him.

She had taken everything.

And now—

She had nothing left to take.

Jinwoo moved.

Jinwoo moved like a tempest, every strike of his blade splitting the air, tearing through the endless echoes that refused to stay down. His patience had run out.

He needed to end this.

His shadows surged like a tidal wave, swallowing the Fallen whole, but no matter how many he cut down, they rose again.

He shadow teleported—again and again—trying to break through, trying to reach her. But the Monarch of Echoes remained protected, untouched, her horde acting as an unbreakable barrier between them.

And she was watching him. Amused.

The way Jinwoo desperately tried to push forward, the way he carved through armies without hesitation, the way his rage poured from every strike—

It sent shivers down her spine.

Her fingers traced the air, her lips parting as she exhaled, heat spreading through her body.

“Ahh…”

Her legs pressed together as she trembled. The Shadow Monarch was magnificent.

He wanted her gone so badly.

The sheer focus in his eyes, the hatred, the determination to kill her and only her—

It made her breath hitch.

She bit her lip, her face flushed, her body betraying her as she let out an unrestrained moan.

“More…” she whispered, her hands clutching at her arms as her legs felt weak. “More… fight harder… come for me, Shadow Monarch…”

Jinwoo’s eyes blazed with raw fury.

He heard her.

He didn’t care.

If anything, her reaction only made his disgust grow stronger.

His mana surged.

The ground beneath him cracked as he pushed forward again, dagger raised high, his rage taking form in the shadows roaring around him.

But he still couldn’t reach her.

The battle was endless.

His mana was draining.

His time was running out.

And behind him—

Y/N still hadn’t moved.

Meanwhile,

Everything felt distant.

Y/N stood in the void of her mind, her thoughts a fragmented mess.

Where… am I?

She could hear voices—whispers at first, then growing louder.

She turned her head.

Flashes of light, waves of power crashing together—

An endless battle unfolded before her, yet she felt nothing.

Her gaze drifted over the scene.

A massive wolf tore through platoons of echoes with terrifying precision.

A knight of crimson and black moved at impossible speeds, his blade clashing against spectral warlords.

A towering warrior of gold and black stood like an immovable force, majesty and might radiating from his very presence.

They were familiar.

And yet—

She didn’t remember why.

Her eyes slowly moved upward.

Two figures clashed above it all.

A man.

A woman.

The man…

Handsome. Deadly. His very presence a force of nature.

Heavy. Overwhelming.

Her gaze lingered on him for only a moment before shifting to the woman.

And then—

The fog in her mind twisted.

That smile.

That mocking, arrogant, disgusting smile.

Something inside her snapped.

…I want to wipe it off her face.

Her hollow eyes narrowed.

She didn’t know why.

She didn’t know what this feeling was.

But it consumed her.

Slowly, unsteadily, she stood up.

Her legs trembled.

Her body felt weak.

Her scythe—

It lay on the ground, forgotten.

She didn’t even recognize it as hers.

She had no weapon.

She had no plan.

But then—

She moved.

—In an instant.

Before anyone could react—before the Monarch of Echoes could even blink—

Y/N was behind her.

—And she kicked her.

HARD.

CRACK.

The sound echoed like thunder.

The Monarch of Echoes’ eyes widened in pure shock as her body launched through the air, smashing into the abyssal wall.

Silence.

Everything—stopped.

The battlefield froze.

All eyes turned.

Jinwoo, who had been ready to strike again, halted.

His rage momentarily flickered as his gaze locked onto her.

Y/N stood in the center of it all.

Her posture was loose, almost uncaring.

Her breathing was slow. Too calm.

Her eyes—

Empty.

But behind that emptiness…

Was killing intent.

Focused. Unrelenting.

And it was only for that woman.

Jinwoo exhaled, his fingers tightening around his dagger.

“…Y/N.”

She didn’t turn.

She didn’t react.

Her entire existence was locked onto the Monarch of Echoes—

The woman who had dared to smile.

This bitch.

The Monarch of Echoes—

For the first time—

Had no words.

"Eh?"

The Monarch of Echoes barely registered what had happened.

One moment, she had been basking in her own amusement, watching Jinwoo struggle to reach her. The next—

She was airborne.

Her body spun uncontrollably before slamming into the abyssal wall with a sickening CRACK.

Disgrace.

A Monarch. She, a Monarch! Had just been kicked like trash.

Her limbs twitched as she tried to push herself up, utter disbelief clouding her mind.

She turned her head—furious, humiliated, stunned.

And then, she saw him.

Jinwoo.

The Shadow Monarch.

Surprised.

Just as shocked as she was.

Her lips parted slightly in realization.

No… not him.

Her eyes flicked lower—

To the real cause of her humiliation.

Y/N.

She stood there—not like prey, but like a predator.

Walking towards her.

Slow. Unyielding. Unstoppable.

Her empty gaze locked onto her like a hunter eyeing wounded prey.

And in that moment—

The Monarch of Echoes felt something she hadn’t felt in millennia.

Fear.

A disgrace. A mistake. An anomaly.

That’s what she had called her.

And yet, here she was—

Moving like death incarnate.

Her breath hitched as rage consumed her fear.

This filth.

This thing.

This anomaly had dared to lay a hand on her.

Her fingers trembled, then curled into a fist.

Her expression twisted in fury.

"KILL HER!"

Her voice thundered through the battlefield as her protectors rushed forward, spectral warriors and wraiths descending upon Y/N like an unrelenting storm.

She unleashed her power.

The air shattered as void energy lashed out—an overwhelming force that should have crushed Y/N where she stood.

But before they could even touch her—

Y/N moved.

She didn’t dodge.

She didn’t need to.

She cut through them.

Not with a weapon—

With her bare hands.

A wraith lunged—she crushed its skull.

A spectral knight swung its blade—she ripped its arm off and slammed it into the ground.

A swarm of void creatures screeched—she grabbed one by the throat and used it to bludgeon the others.

Brutal.

Merciless.

Unstoppable.

Each movement was precise. Efficient.

She didn’t waste energy. She didn’t hesitate.

She simply tore through them.

Shadows and echoes alike froze at the sheer savagery.

Even Jinwoo, in the midst of battle, paused.

This wasn’t the usual Y/N.

This wasn’t the playful, awkward girl who always fumbled her way through fights.

This was something else.

This was pure instinct.

And it was terrifying.

Then—

Y/N disappeared.

And before the Monarch of Echoes could react—

Her hair was yanked back.

The Monarch of Echoes gasped, her head snapping back as her body was forcibly pulled.

Y/N’ fingers tightened in her hair—a vice grip that didn’t waver.

Then—

Slam.

The Monarch’s body crashed into the ground.

Dark energy cracked beneath her on impact.

Before she could even process the pain—

Slam.

She was dragged across the battlefield.

Like a ragdoll.

Like nothing.

Y/N didn’t stop.

She hauled her across the abyss, slamming her into every surface, every wall, every jagged edge of the void.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

The Monarch of Echoes screamed, her power surging to break free—

But Y/N didn't let go.

She wouldn’t let go.

Not until there was nothing left.

Not until that smile was gone.

And for the first time—

The Monarch of Echoes realized something horrifying.

She wasn’t the predator.

She was the prey.

Once again—

The Monarch of Echoes was airborne.

Her body whipped through the abyss, hurtling like a shattered doll, her once-elegant form now nothing more than a crumpled mess.

The battlefield, once roaring with battle, had fallen into silence.

Not just silence—fear.

The echoes, the warriors of the void, the lingering remnants of those trapped in this forsaken realm—

All stopped.

Some stared in amusement, others in horror.

Some stepped back.

Some stumbled.

Some simply stood paralyzed as the brutality of the Shadow Monarch’s Queen unfolded before them.

The fearsome, untouched Monarch of Echoes was nothing more than a ragdoll in the hands of the anomaly.

And then—

She was sent flying straight toward Jinwoo.

Jinwoo, already stepping forward, readied his stance.

This was it.

He was done playing.

He was going to end this now.

His mana surged, his grip tightening—his killing intent sharpened—

But before he could even strike—

BOOM!

A force crashed into him—hard.

Jinwoo’s body stumbled backward, his footing breaking as he was shoved aside.

By her.

By Y/N.

The moment he looked up—

She was already there.

Already in position.

Her empty eyes locked onto the Monarch of Echoes.

And before the fallen Monarch could even scream—

Y/N caught her.

Fingers tightening in her hair.

Then—

SLAM.

The Echoing Queen’s face was driven straight into the abyssal ground.

The sound of bone and flesh colliding with unyielding darkness rippled through the battlefield.

The void trembled.

A deep indentation formed beneath the impact.

The Monarch of Echoes twitched, her fingers clawing at the ground in sheer desperation.

Her mind was a blur of agony and humiliation.

And then—

A voice.

Cold.

Emotionless.

A voice that should have been familiar, yet held no recognition of him.

Jinwoo, still regaining his balance, froze.

Y/N’ side-eyed him.

Eyes devoid of warmth.

Devoid of love.

Devoid of him.

And then—

She spoke.

"This bitch is mine."

Jinwoo’s breath hitched.

His heart—sank.

Because in that moment—

She didn’t recognize him.

Not a single emotion flickered within them—only the quiet resolve of execution.

The Monarch of Echoes trembled beneath her grip, her once-taunting smirk now nothing but a twisted, bloodied grimace.

She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t speak.

She could only watch as the anomaly—no, the nightmare—

Y/N lifted her hand.

Aiming directly for the Monarch’s stomach, she thrust her hand forward.

The Monarch gasped.

A strangled, broken sound.

Y/N’ fingers sank into flesh— deeper, deeper—until they reached something familiar.

Something warm.

Something calling for her.

A golden glow.

Pulsing.

Faint, but persistent.

Her breath hitched.

The battlefield, the echoes, the fighting—all of it faded into the background.

Because this—this was different.

This was important.

Y/N’ fingers curled around the golden light, and the moment she did—

A memory surfaced.

Not her own.

But his.

—"Mama!"

Her body tensed.

A voice.

A voice that sent a sharp, painful pulse through her chest—

A voice that shook something loose.

A memory she couldn’t fully grasp.

Her grip tightened.

The Monarch of Echoes choked, trying to cling to what remained of herself.

"Y-You…" she croaked, voice raw, bleeding. "You… cannot take that…"

But Y/N wasn't listening.

Her body moved on instinct.

And in one sharp motion—

She ripped the golden orb from the Monarch’s body.

The Monarch screamed.

A soul-shattering wail, an echo of sheer agony that rang through the abyss like the death cry of a dying god.

Her form shuddered.

Her body cracked.

And then—

She began to disintegrate.

The once-mighty Monarch of Echoes—

was fading.

Y/N, still holding the golden orb, finally looked at it.

And then—

It called to her again.

This time, a whisper.

A soft, desperate whisper.

"Mama… come get me."

Her breath hitched.

And then—

Her fingers tightened around the light.

Jinwoo stood frozen, watching it unfold before him.

Y/N, standing amidst the crumbling remains of the Monarch of Echoes, held the golden orb close to her chest.

The battlefield was silent.

The echoes had stopped.

The shadows had stilled.

And then—

A single, broken sob escaped from Y/N.

Her fingers trembled as they clutched the orb tighter, her body curling around it protectively, as if shielding it from the world.

Tears slipped from her hollow, empty eyes.

She didn’t understand.

She didn’t remember.

But it hurt.

It hurt in a way she couldn’t describe—

A pain so raw, so deep, that it threatened to tear her apart.

Jinwoo couldn’t take it anymore.

In the next breath, he was there.

Arms wrapping around her.

Holding her close.

Y/N shuddered, her sobs growing louder as she buried her face into his chest, her body shaking violently.

Jinwoo’s grip tightened around both her and the orb, his own breath unsteady.

He felt it.

The overwhelming grief.

The ache of something missing.

Something precious.

Something irreplaceable.

And yet, despite the pain—

Despite the sorrow that clawed at his chest—

He whispered.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

His voice was soft, soothing, as if speaking to a fragile, broken piece of his heart.

“I’m here.”

Her fingers clutched the fabric of his clothes, as if instinctively seeking an anchor.

Jinwoo gently pressed his forehead against hers, his own eyes burning.

His Y/N.

His wife.

Even when she couldn’t remember him, she still cried in his arms.

Still reached for him.

And then—

A pulse.

A soft, gentle warmth.

From the orb, nestled between them.

It glowed.

Not just with golden light—

But with life.

Calling for them.

Reaching for them.

Y/N gasped, lifting her head slightly.

The warmth enveloped her, seeping into her bones.

It felt…

Safe.

Familiar.

Jinwoo exhaled, pressing his palm over the orb, over her hands, as if trying to keep the warmth from slipping away.

And then—

A voice.

A small, faint echo.

But this time—

Clearer.

“Mama… Papa… I'm here.”

Y/N’ breath hitched.

And for the first time—

She remembered.

Y/N' wide, tear-streaked eyes snapped to Jinwoo, trembling hands clutching the golden orb.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered, voice raw with desperation.

Jinwoo’s breath caught.

His heart pounded in his chest.

It wasn’t just her.

He heard it too.

A voice. Small, faint—but real.

His son.

Their Suho.

Y/N squeezed his hands, her grip tightening over his, pleading with her eyes.

“Jinwoo, tell me you heard it. Please!” Her voice cracked, her breath uneven as she clung to him, as if afraid this was all a cruel illusion.

Jinwoo nodded, his thumb brushing over her trembling fingers.

“I heard him.”

A choked sob escaped Y/N' lips.

She pressed the orb against her chest, holding it as if her life depended on it.

“Help me…” She looked up at him, her empty, lost expression slowly filling with something else.

Hope.

“Help me free our baby.”

Jinwoo felt his chest tighten.

He wanted to.

He had to.

But how?

His fingers hovered over the golden light, shadows crackling at his fingertips. His mana was dangerously low. His body screamed for rest, but—

His family needed him.

Y/N needed him.

His son needed him.

Then—

It hit him.

Jinwoo’s eyes widened.

The Soulbound Fate.

A hidden trait that had awakened when he stepped into the Abyss of the Well of Beginnings.

Bound by three lives.

A fate interwoven across realms.

Jinwoo stared at the orb in realization.

This wasn’t just an imprisonment—it was a severance.

Something had tried to cut Suho away from them, from existence itself.

But it failed.

Because Suho was never meant to be erased.

Because they were bound.

Jinwoo’s grip on Y/N’ hands tightened.

“I know how to bring him back.”

Y/N’ breath hitched.

“We will bring him back.” His dark eyes bore into hers, strong, certain, unyielding.

For a moment, she couldn’t speak.

Then, slowly, tears welled in her eyes.

Jinwoo’s grip tightened.

Together—they called upon the bond that defied fate itself.

Shadows surged, golden light flared.

The battlefield shook.

Jinwoo and Y/N poured everything into the connection that should have never been severed.

Their mana, their souls—their very existence intertwined.

The golden orb shuddered.

A heartbeat.

Then—

A pulse of warmth.

A child's voice—clear, bright, calling out to them.

“Mommy… Daddy…”

The world exploded in light.

A golden surge rippled outward, warping the battlefield, shattering the remnants of the void that had tried to swallow their son.

Jinwoo and Y/N held on, their fingers entwined over the glowing orb, their shadows and mana twisting together in a storm of power.

Then—

A small, warm hand pressed against theirs.

Y/N’ breath caught.

Her fingers trembled, not from exhaustion, but from disbelief.

“M-Mommy…?”

A fragile, gentle voice reached her ears—one that made her very soul ache in recognition.

She gasped.

Jinwoo’s hands clenched over hers as the golden light flared brighter, brighter—until it burst.

And there, within the fading radiance…

A small figure emerged.

A boy, no older than four, with dark tousled hair that gleamed under the golden glow. His large, familiar eyes—black with flecks of gold—blinked up at them, filled with confusion… and warmth.

His tiny hands reached out.

One to Jinwoo.

One to Y/N.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

Y/N broke.

A sharp, shuddering sob tore from her chest.

She fell to her knees, pulling the child into her trembling arms—cradling him, holding him as if he’d slip away again.

“Suho…”

Jinwoo sank beside them, his arms wrapping around them both, securing them in his warmth. His face was buried in Suho’s soft, dark hair, his grip tight—as if grounding himself in the reality of this moment.

Their son was here.

Alive.

Real.

Suho blinked, confused at first, then giggled softly.

“Mommy, you’re crying a lot…” he whispered, small hands patting Y/N’ cheeks.

Y/N let out a broken laugh, tears falling freely.

“Of course I am, baby…” she sniffled, pressing her forehead against his. “You were gone… we thought—we thought we lost you.”

Jinwoo exhaled slowly, pressing a kiss to Suho’s head.

“You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”

Suho blinked, then suddenly grinned—so bright, so pure, just like the child they remembered.

“I knew you’d find me!” He beamed, his small hands clutching at their clothes. “I was waiting! I kept calling and calling—‘Mommy! Daddy! Come get me!’ And you did!”

Y/N let out a choked laugh, nodding as more tears fell.

“We heard you, baby… You were brave…”

Jinwoo held them both tighter.

The battlefield was silent.

The echoes, the warriors, even the very remnants of the void—all bore witness.

The family that should have been shattered…

Was whole once more.

Jinwoo’s gaze lowered.

The lifeless body of the Female Monarch lay before him, her once-arrogant smirk erased in disgrace.

A gaping hole where her chest had been.

Her blood soaked the ground, pooling beneath her broken form. Her once-proud presence—nothing more than a corpse.

Jinwoo turned to Y/N.

She stood there, calm, her expression unreadable. Not trembling. Not shaken.

Yet—

He could tell. She was dizzy.

The weight of everything pressed against her, but her resolve did not waver.

Then—

One by one, the shadows knelt.

A silent acknowledgment.

Igris, his crimson armor gleaming, lowered his head in deep reverence.

Beru folded his wings, clawed hands pressed to the ground.

Bellion, the Grand Marshal, bowed without hesitation—his golden eyes reflecting nothing but respect.

Even Fenrir—the Devourer of All—let out a low, rumbling growl before lowering his mighty head.

They had all witnessed it.

The wrath.

The ferocity.

The absolute dominance of their queen.

Only the lost echoes remained standing—

The warriors of the past. Trapped in the void. Shackled in eternity, waiting for release.

Jinwoo's expression hardened.

Ashborn had failed to free them.

But he would not.

“You have been lost for long enough,” Jinwoo declared, extending his hand.

The darkness of the Shadow Monarch surged—engulfing the echoes.

A silent command.

A second chance.

One by one, the warriors of the past kneeled.

Their souls freed.

And then—

“D-Daddy!”

Jinwoo turned.

Suho.

His son's wide golden eyes sparkled with pure awe, his tiny hands clinging to Y/N.

“That was… so cool!”

Jinwoo froze.

For a moment—

He saw something else.

A flash of memory.

A different battlefield.

A different time.

Y/N— The ‘clueless woman’ he claimed as a ‘special reward’ in dungeon.

Standing before him, eyes shining in amazement.

Saying the exact same thing.

Jinwoo’s lips slowly curled into an amused smile.

“Heh… you really are our son.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest.

Of course.

<< Echoes of Fate (1) | Echoes of Fate (3 - Ending) >>

At the center, Y/N walked with her long coat dramatically flaring behind her like she was the final boss of a mafia showdown. Her head bobbed slightly as Murder in My Mind played in her thoughts. To her left, Jinwoo moved like a seasoned bouncer, hands in his pockets, exuding pure menace. On her right, little Suho mirrored his father’s serious expression, his tiny hands adjusting his sunglasses with a level of coolness unheard of for a preschooler.

Whispers spread among the parents.

“Are they models?”

“Why is it so dramatic?”

“Wait… is that Sung Jinwoo?! The strongest hunter in the world??”

“He’s so tall and handsome.”

They ignored the chatter. They had one goal.

Dominate. The. Games.

Game 1: Three-Legged Race

“This is too easy.” Y/N cracked her neck as she strapped herself to Jinwoo. “We have insane reflexes. We’ve fought S-rank monsters. How hard can a kids’ race be?”

The whistle blew.

They fell.

Jinwoo, in all his power and grace, had underestimated just how annoying the rope around his leg would be. Meanwhile, Y/N, refusing to acknowledge any fault of her own, immediately pointed fingers.

“This is YOUR fault,” she hissed, struggling to get up as five-year-olds zipped past them. “Where is your battle awareness, Jinwoo? You’re the Shadow Monarch, and you let a rope take you down?!”

Jinwoo sighed. “It’s not that serious, Y/N—”

“It is THAT serious! Suho, your father is an embarrassment.”

Suho sighed dramatically, hands on his hips. “Mom, Dad, just move together. It’s called teamwork.”

Game 2: Tug-of-War

Jinwoo smirked as he took position. He didn’t even need shadows. He was the strongest human alive. A simple rope? Against normal parents?

The whistle blew.

He pulled.

And nothing happened.

He blinked.

The other team, a group of dedicated gym dads, dug their feet in and pulled back with such synchronization that Jinwoo felt his grip slip slightly.

Y/N, standing beside him, screamed. “USE MORE STRENGTH, JINWOO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“I AM using strength, woman—”

“THEN WHY ARE WE LOSING?!”

Suho, who had been watching silently, sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose like a businessman disappointed in his employees. “You guys are so embarrassing.”

Game 3: The Obstacle Course

Finally, a real test of skill. Jinwoo and Y/N exchanged a look. They had fought monsters, dodged attacks, and survived near-death experiences. This was their moment.

The whistle blew.

Y/N sprinted forward, leaping over obstacles with acrobatic grace. Jinwoo followed, completely in sync—until they reached the section where they had to crawl under a net.

Jinwoo got stuck.

“…I think I’m too big for this.”

Y/N turned back, eyes wide with horror. “YOU’RE WHAT?!”

She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him through, but his sheer size and muscle mass refused to cooperate. Meanwhile, the other parents and kids kept crawling past them.

Suho, who had already finished the course, stood at the finish line, facepalming. “Why did I get the most incompetent S-rank parents?”

When the rankings were announced, the Shadow Monarch family placed last.

Dead. Last.

Jinwoo and Y/N sat in stunned silence, sunglasses still on, while parents and children celebrated around them. Y/N slowly turned to her husband, arms crossed.

“…Explain.”

Jinwoo rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just a school event, honey—”

“EXPLAIN HOW WE LOST.”

Suho, sipping on a juice box, sighed. “Maybe because you guys are overconfident?”

Y/N gasped. “Excuse me?! Your father is the strongest man alive. I am literally a mythical existence. We are powerhouses.”

“You guys can’t even handle a three-legged race.”

Jinwoo put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe… we should accept that we are not good at school events.”

Y/N looked devastated. “We are weak.”

Jinwoo patted her back. “We are weak.”

Suho sighed, taking his parents’ hands. “Come on, losers. Let’s go get ice cream.”

As the car cruised down the road, Y/N sat in the passenger seat, her arms dramatically wrapped around herself as she fake sobbed into the window. “Suho… my sweet baby… I’m so sorry you had to witness this disgrace. We are so… so weak.”

Jinwoo sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Y/N, stop being dramatic.”

Y/N turned her teary gaze to her son. “Suho, please forgive us… especially your father. It’s all HIS fault.”

Suho, still sipping his juice box, nodded sagely. “Yeah, Dad. That was embarrassing.”

Jinwoo nearly slammed the brakes. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Y/N wiped a fake tear. “As an apology, dinner is on Jinwoo.”

Suho, suddenly hyped, raised his arms. “FREE FOOD! WOOHOO!”

Then, as if sensing his mother’s dramatics, Suho suddenly pouted. “Wait… Mom, if we’re weak… does that mean I’ll be weak too?”

Y/N gasped in horror. “No! My baby! You must overcome your father’s incompetence!”

Suho, now fully in tantrum mode, kicked his feet against the seat. “I don’t wanna be weak! I wanna win! Dad, why did you make me weak?!”

Jinwoo groaned, rubbing his temples. “I DIDN’T—”

Y/N sobbed harder. “We are cursed… cursed to be failures.”

Jinwoo exhaled sharply, realizing that no amount of logic would save him from this nonsense. He had defeated Monarchs, faced gods, and conquered death itself…

But nothing, nothing, was stronger than a mother-son dramatic meltdown in a moving vehicle.

Jinwoo was doomed.

As soon as they arrived home, Y/N and Suho dramatically threw open the car doors and bolted inside, their movements eerily synchronized. Jinwoo watched as they sprinted straight to their rooms and flung themselves onto their beds with identical "THUMP!" sounds.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. “Uh….Drama Queen”

A second later, wails echoed through the house.

“HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO US?!” Y/N screeched, kicking her feet against the mattress.

“WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE STRONGEST!” Suho yelled in perfect harmony.

Jinwoo, still standing at the door with his keys in hand, took a deep breath. This was going to be a long night.

Shadows trembled around him as Beru cautiously materialized beside him. “M-My Liege… should I intervene?”

Jinwoo gave him a tired look. “You want to face the Wrath of the Weakest? Be my guest.”

Beru wisely took a step back.

Jinwoo sighed again and walked to their bedroom, only to find Y/N face-down on the bed, her fists clutching the blanket like she had been personally betrayed by fate. Suho was in the same position, his tiny frame shaking as if carrying the weight of their disgrace.

Y/N suddenly turned, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Suho…” she choked.

Suho lifted his head, his voice breaking. “Mommy…?”

Y/N grabbed his little hand. “We were fools.”

Suho sniffled. “Yes… fools…”

Jinwoo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Okay, that’s enough. You two lost a three-legged race to a pair of kindergarteners. It’s not the end of the world.”

Y/N snapped her head toward him, betrayal in her gaze. “Jinwoo, those ‘kindergarteners’ TRAIN EVERY DAY LIKE THEIR LIVES DEPEND ON IT!”

Suho nodded fiercely. “They had STRATEGY, Daddy!”

Jinwoo sighed. “And what was your strategy?”

Y/N hesitated. “Winning.”

“Winning isn’t a strategy, it’s a hope,” Jinwoo deadpanned.

Y/N threw a pillow at him. “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH!”

Jinwoo barely dodged as another pillow followed. Suho, taking this as permission, grabbed his own pillow and launched it at his father. Jinwoo caught it midair. “Alright. Enough sulking. Let’s eat.”

Y/N gasped, her eyes wide. “Did you just…?” She clutched her chest dramatically. “Did you just try to change the subject when we are in mourning?!”

Suho gasped with her. “Unbelievable.”

Jinwoo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’m sorry you both are pathetic.”

Y/N gasped even louder. “Did you just call your son pathetic?!”

Jinwoo gestured at Suho, who was sniffling into his pillow. “He’s crying over losing a tug-of-war against a toddler.”

“That toddler was built DIFFERENT, Jinwoo! He had calves like a Greek god!” Y/N cried, gripping the sheets as if reliving the horror.

Jinwoo stared at her. “You mean the chubby one with the Spider-Man shoes?”

“Yes,” Y/N whispered.

Jinwoo gave up. “Fine. Dinner’s on me.”

Y/N sat up, immediately wiping away her fake tears. “Excellent. I’ll have steak. And dessert.”

Suho sniffed. “And a milkshake.”

Jinwoo sighed and turned to leave, grumbling under his breath. “They lost a sack race and now I’m broke.”

Behind him, Y/N and Suho shared a look before giving each other a victorious high-five.

The true winners of the day.

After an eventful day filled with betrayal (according to Y/N) and disgrace (according to Suho), the family finally settled down for dinner.

Jinwoo, despite his suffering, took them to a nice restaurant—because he knew that if he didn’t, Y/N would bring up this "tragedy" for years to come.

And, of course, Y/N went all out with the orders.

Suho, now fully recovered from his sorrow, happily chomped down on his food while chattering about school events. Y/N, no longer crying, laughed heartily while making sure Jinwoo paid attention to every single injustice they faced in the school games.

Jinwoo, on the other hand, sat there like a war veteran, sipping his drink as he accepted his fate.

By the time they finished, Y/N smugly handed the bill to Jinwoo like she was sealing a royal decree. He sighed, paid, and followed his two little con artists home.

Bathing Suho was a battle, as expected.

“Nooo! I wanna stay in the bubbles forever!” Suho whined, kicking in the water.

Y/N, standing at the door, smirked at Jinwoo. “Handle it, Daddy.”

Jinwoo, already rolling up his sleeves, smirked back. “You’re just scared because last time he got soap in your eyes.”

Y/N flinched. “We don’t talk about that.”

Jinwoo grabbed Suho and skillfully washed his hair, despite the boy’s protest. “If you stay too long, your fingers will turn wrinkly, and then you’ll turn into an old man before bedtime.”

Suho gasped. “Is that true?!”

Y/N nodded solemnly. “Yes. And then you’ll have to pay taxes.”

Suho immediately stood up. “I’M DONE! DRY ME!”

Jinwoo and Y/N fist-bumped in victory.

After wrestling Suho into his pajamas, they tucked him into bed. Y/N hummed a lullaby while Jinwoo patted his hair. Suho sleepily smiled at them, his eyes twinkling.

“Mommy, Daddy,” he whispered, “even if we lost, today was the best day ever.”

Y/N held back tears while Jinwoo gently kissed Suho’s forehead.

“Good night, champ,” Jinwoo murmured.

“Good night, my sweet baby,” Y/N cooed, stroking his cheek.

As soon as they turned off the lights and closed the door, Suho immediately turned to his side.

“…Next year, we train,” he muttered before dozing off.

With Suho finally in bed, the house became quiet.

Jinwoo walked into the kitchen and instinctively reached for the coffee machine. Y/N leaned against the counter, watching him with a fond smile.

“I thought you’d quit caffeine,” she teased.

Jinwoo scoffed. “I did. But you’re exhausting, so I picked it up again.”

Y/N gasped. “Excuse me?! You should be grateful for my presence!”

Jinwoo handed her a cup. “I am. But I also need coffee to survive it.”

Y/N pouted but took a sip. As soon as the familiar warmth spread through her, she sighed in content. “Mmm… This takes me back.”

Jinwoo smiled as he leaned against the counter beside her. “To the old days?”

Y/N nodded. “When I first arrived here, and we used to sit on the couch, drinking coffee. Before all the chaos.”

Jinwoo chuckled. “Before you called me ‘your sugar daddy’ for funding your sweet cravings?”

Y/N smirked. “I regret nothing.”

They sipped their coffee in comfortable silence. Jinwoo glanced at her, the soft kitchen light reflecting in her eyes.

“…It’s nice,” he admitted. “After everything, just having quiet moments like this.”

Y/N smiled. “Yeah. Feels like home.”

Jinwoo set his cup down and pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You are home.”

Y/N blinked before her face exploded into a blush. “W-Wow. That was—smooth?!”

Jinwoo smirked. “Oh? You still get flustered, Mrs. Sung?”

Y/N covered her face. “I swear if you keep being smooth, I will pass out.”

Jinwoo laughed, holding her tighter. “Guess I’ll just have to catch you, then.”

And that night, as Y/N muttered "So unfair…" into his chest, Jinwoo smiled, knowing he had finally won one battle today.

The morning comes.

Jinwoo stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie with the precision of a man preparing for battle. His expression was serious, brows slightly furrowed as he ensured every fold of his suit was perfect. He smoothed his hands over his vest, then ran them through his hair for good measure. A deep breath. Confidence. Dignity. Cool husband energy.

From the bed, a lazy voice broke his moment of self-admiration.

"You smell nice."

Jinwoo paused, his hands still mid-adjustment. He turned his head slightly to see Y/N sprawled on the bed like a starfish, half-covered by the blanket. Her eyes were barely open, her face buried halfway into the pillow, but she still managed to look at him with a dreamy expression.

A confused chuckle escaped him. "I haven't even put on cologne yet."

Y/N let out a slow, sleepy sigh, stretching like a cat. "Doesn't matter. You just look like you smell nice."

Jinwoo blinked. "...How does someone look like they smell nice?"

She waved a hand weakly, as if explaining took too much energy. "I dunno, you just do. Like... expensive wood and fresh laundry and... I dunno, baby powder? Like, if I walked past you in a mall, I'd stop and sniff the air dramatically."

Jinwoo stared at her, completely unsure whether to be flattered or concerned. "That... sounds concerning."

"Nah, it's called appreciation."

He sighed, shaking his head before turning back to the mirror. "You’re weird."

"And you're my husband, so that makes you extra weird by association."

A smirk twitched at his lips. "You're lucky you're cute."

"I know. Now, come here so I can sniff you properly."

Jinwoo let out a loud laugh as Y/N dramatically reached out for him, still too lazy to actually sit up. He rolled his eyes but finally gave in, stepping closer to the bed. Y/N immediately grabbed his wrist and buried her face against his arm, inhaling deeply.

"Mmmm. Husband scent. High-quality. Five stars. Would recommend."

"You're unbelievable."

"And yet, you still married me."

Jinwoo shook his head with a chuckle, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Go back to sleep, weirdo."

Y/N hummed in satisfaction, already halfway there. "Don’t forget to bring back snacks."

Jinwoo sighed, shaking his head as he left. Life with Y/N was a daily battle of keeping his composure—and he was absolutely losing. But, honestly? He wouldn't have it any other way.

Just as he straightened up to leave, Y/N suddenly yanked him back down, her grip firm and mischievous. Before he could protest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him fully onto the bed.

"Actually, scratch that—you're my morning snack."

Jinwoo barely had time to react before Y/N pressed her lips to his, warm and inviting. What started as a teasing peck quickly escalated, her hands sliding into his neatly styled hair, utterly ruining his earlier efforts. Jinwoo groaned, his restraint crumbling as he melted into her touch. His fingers trailed down to her thighs and into her back, pulling her closer, his morning plans slipping further from his mind.

The kisses turned deeper, messier, her body pressing into his in a way that had Jinwoo’s thoughts completely derailing. His hands instinctively gripped her waist, a low growl escaping him as she nipped at his lip.

"Y/N..." he murmured against her lips, his voice low with warning—and growing desperation.

"Mmm?" she hummed, her lazy smirk evident even without looking. "You're already dressed up so nice... might as well make a mess of it."

Jinwoo let out a deep breath, his forehead pressing against hers. "You’re gonna be the death of me."

She grinned. "What a way to go, though."

Jinwoo was about to fully surrender when—

"WAAAAAHHH!"

Both of them froze. The sudden wailing from the baby monitor shattered the moment like a sledgehammer through glass.

Suho’s cries echoed from his room, the unmistakable demand of a hungry toddler: "Milk!!"

Jinwoo groaned, flopping onto Y/N in pure agony. "No. No. Just one more minute. Just one—"

Y/N burst out laughing but patted his cheek in mock sympathy. "Our prince calls. You know how this works."

Jinwoo let out a long, suffering groan, rolling onto his back with an arm dramatically over his face. "I swear he has spidey senses for this."

Y/N sat up, stretching before hopping off the bed. "Well, I gotta feed my baby. You—" she waved vaguely at his utterly ruined suit, "—have fun fixing... that."

Jinwoo stared at his reflection in the mirror, hair disheveled, tie pulled loose, his once crisp outfit now looking like he’d fought off a hurricane. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face as Y/N left the room, still giggling.

"Ruined mood. Ruined suit. Ruined life," he muttered to himself as he begrudgingly redid his attire. "This is my villain origin story."

From the hallway, Y/N called out, "Oh, and don't forget to bring back snacks!"

Jinwoo exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head before smirking. "One day, I'm getting my revenge."

But for now... fatherhood called.

The day started like any other.

A simple grocery run. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jinwoo drove while Y/N sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone, looking for "new dessert recipes that will make my husband spend more money."

Suho sat in the back, swinging his legs. “Mommy, I want to get ice cream!”

Y/N nodded. “Of course, baby.” She turned to Jinwoo. “Honey, Suho wants ice cream.”

Jinwoo side-eyed her. “You just want ice cream too.”

Y/N gasped dramatically. “How dare you accuse me of—okay, yes, I do.”

Jinwoo shook his head with a small smile.

But before their playful banter could continue—

BOOM.

A heavy shockwave rattled the streets, causing car alarms to blare. A dark portal, pulsating with eerie energy, tore open in the middle of the city.

It was different. Bigger. Unstable. And wrong.

The atmosphere shifted. Shadows moved unnaturally. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Jinwoo instantly braked the car.

Y/N tensed. “What the hell is that…?”

From the depths of his kingdom, Jinwoo’s elite shadows emerged, materializing in dark tendrils around them.

Igris. Beru. Bellion.

All stood alert, weapons drawn, waiting for their king’s orders.

But one among them—lurking deeper in the shadows—felt something primal stir.

A low, guttural growl rumbled in the air.

Fenrir.

The monstrous shadow wolf, a predator feared by even the strongest, lowered his body, his fur bristling. His golden eyes gleamed with something far worse than bloodlust—

Recognition.

“…This presence…” Fenrir snarled, his voice a low thunder in Jinwoo’s mind. “This… should not exist.”

Jinwoo’s eyes darkened. “What do you mean?”

Fenrir’s claws dug into the pavement. “I have fought this before. And I killed it.”

Jinwoo stepped forward, assessing the portal, his instincts screaming at him.

Something unnatural lurked beyond that threshold.

Behind him, Y/N instinctively shielded Suho, pressing the boy against her side. “Jin… I don’t like this.”

Suho, however, had wide eyes filled with awe and confusion.

It was his first time seeing something like this.

Jinwoo glanced back. His gaze softened—only for a second.

“…Take Suho home,” he told Y/N, his tone firm but gentle.

Y/N tightened her grip on their son, but she knew.

Jinwoo could handle anything. Without breaking a sweat.

Even so—

“Be careful,” she murmured.

Jinwoo smirked. “Always.”

Just as he turned back toward the portal—

“SUHO!!”

Y/N’ scream shattered the air.

Jinwoo’s body snapped around—

His blood ran cold.

Suho—his son—

Was glowing.

A golden light pulsed from his tiny frame, swirling around him like an unseen force had awakened.

His small form flickered, his eyes wide in shock.

“D-Daddy?” Suho whimpered.

Then—

He turned into a golden orb.

And was ripped into the portal.

“NO!!!” Y/N lunged forward, but it happened too fast—too fast—she barely grasped at the light before it was gone.

She fell forward, her hands slamming against the empty air where her child had just been.

Her breath hitched.

No.

No.

NO.

Her baby.

Her world.

Gone.

Jinwoo moved.

He RAN.

But the portal swallowed itself shut—

Right before he could reach them.

A deafening silence followed.

Y/N—**still on her knees—**stared at her empty hands.

Trembling.

Disbelief.

Terror.

Jinwoo stood frozen.

His heart pounded violently in his chest.

His hands curled into shaking fists.

Fenrir’s deep voice rumbled once more.

“…This should not be possible.”

And then—

Y/N broke.

“SUHO!!!”

Her scream shook the heavens.

Panic erupted.

Bystanders screamed, scrambling away in fear. The sheer unnaturalness of what had just happened sent shockwaves through the crowd.

“D-Did you see that?!”

“A child—he just disappeared!”

“Oh my god, what if we’re next?! Someone call the Hunter Association!”

Phones were pulled out. People ran. The entire city block was descending into chaos.

But for Jinwoo and Y/N—

Time had stopped.

The moment Suho was ripped from them, their entire world collapsed.

Wide eyes. Ragged breathing. Stunned silence.

Their son—

Their baby.

GONE.

A heartbeat.

Two.

Then—

They moved.

Instantly.

Y/N ripped her scythe out of thin air. The moment it touched her hand, a violent surge of energy erupted. Her eyes glowed dangerously, pure rage and desperation flooding her veins.

Jinwoo blurred into shadowed movement, his mana surging violently as he aimed for the portal—

But it was already closing.

Y/N didn’t hesitate.

With a feral snarl, she swung her scythe.

Tear.

RIP.

The blade shredded through the collapsing portal, splitting the unstable energy apart forcibly.

Space screamed in resistance, but Y/N didn’t care.

Didn’t give a damn.

SHE WOULD NOT LOSE HER BABY.

“FENRIR!”

Her voice thundered.

And from the abyss of shadows—

A monstrous wolf erupted.

Golden eyes. Fangs like swords. A beast feared by gods.

Fenrir lunged forward, lowering his body, ready.

Y/N vaulted onto his back, gripping his thick fur.

The wolf howled, and in an instant—

They charged through the ripped portal.

Jinwoo blurred beside them, faster than light. Shadows poured from his form, a storm of darkness and fury as he followed them into the unknown.

The last thing the world saw—

Was the Shadow Monarch and his furious Queen, vanishing into a rift that should have never existed.

And then—

They were gone.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, the world twisted.

It wasn’t like stepping into a normal dungeon.

It wasn’t like stepping into anything Jinwoo or Y/N had ever encountered before.

The moment they entered—

They were pulled.

Yanked.

Their bodies stretched and compressed through an unnatural force, like being thrown into the deepest part of the ocean—except there was no water.

Only void.

Only darkness.

Fenrir snarled as he felt the pressure crushing against his body, but he pushed forward, forcing his way through.

Jinwoo’s shadows flickered erratically, responding to something they could not control.

Y/N gritted her teeth, gripping Fenrir tighter. “This is—wrong.”

Jinwoo’s eyes darted around, sharp and calculating.

Something was dragging them to an unknown location.

This wasn’t a portal that led to another dungeon.

This was something else.

And in the distance—

A golden light.

Suho.

The golden orb that was once their son floated in the distance, trapped within shifting layers of space.

Y/N’ breath hitched.

“THERE!”

Jinwoo moved first.

A shadowed blur—unstoppable.

He reached for the orb—

But his fingers phased through it.

His eyes widened. “What—?”

Y/N followed immediately after, throwing herself forward—but her hands met nothing.

Like it wasn’t real.

Like it was just a reflection.

Her stomach dropped.

Fenrir stopped abruptly, his fur bristling. His golden eyes locked onto something beyond the light.

“…We are not alone.”

Jinwoo and Y/N snapped their heads up.

And there—

From the shifting void, a figure emerged.

Tall. Impossible. A being shrouded in something neither light nor darkness.

Something ancient.

Something wrong.

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. His entire being screamed danger.

Y/N clutched her scythe, her heart pounding.

And then—

The being spoke.

“You should not be here.”

A wave of force exploded outward—

And reality shattered.

But Jinwoo refused to be pushed back.

In that moment, his power surged. Shadows billowed around him, twisting and forming an unbreakable domain that swallowed the force of the void whole.

Jinwoo’s eyes burned with authority.

“Absolute Dominion.”

The void trembled.

The oppressive force that had tried to consume them froze in place. The chaotic winds stilled, the fabric of space itself bending to Jinwoo’s will.

Even the strange entity before them hesitated.

Y/N could feel it—

The absolute command. The presence of a monarch beyond monarchs.

But something was wrong.

Y/N’ breath hitched as a sudden heaviness settled over her body. Her mind felt foggy, her thoughts slipping away like sand through fingers. It was as if she was experiencing fleeting moments of memory loss, each time struggling to grasp onto reality.

Jinwoo stepped forward. His voice was low, filled with unshakable authority.

“You will give me back my son.”

And the void obeyed.

The golden orb pulsed in response, and suddenly, the darkness around them shifted. The once chaotic currents of energy parted, revealing a single, narrow path through the void.

Jinwoo and Y/N exchanged a look before stepping forward, following the revealed passage.

Fenrir’s fur bristled as he walked alongside them, his growls deepening. His golden eyes darted around the path, his muscles tense.

“…I know this place,” Fenrir muttered, his voice low and uncertain.

Jinwoo frowned. “Explain.”

The great wolf let out a slow breath. “Something I encountered in the past—something that should no longer exist.” His gaze darkened. “We are walking into the belly of something ancient.”

Y/N clenched her scythe. “Then we’d better be ready.”

Ahead of them, Suho’s light flickered—guiding them deeper into the unknown.

As they followed the glowing path, the air grew heavier. Shadows twisted unnaturally, forming shapes that whispered in voices they couldn't understand. Y/N felt a cold shiver run down her spine, her vision momentarily blurring. Her grip on her scythe tightened.

What… is happening to me?

Suddenly, Fenrir stopped, his ears perked. A low, guttural growl rumbled from his chest.

Jinwoo immediately went on guard, his shadows flaring behind him. “What is it?”

Fenrir bared his fangs. “We are being watched.”

Echoes of Fate (2) >>

Jinwoo was in full “husband unlocked, affection level MAX” mode.

The problem?

He wouldn’t. Stop. Touching. Her.

Y/N woke up tangled in limbs. Jinwoo was spooning her like he was afraid she’d vanish. One leg thrown over her hip. One arm across her waist. His face in her hair. And his hand—ahem—somewhere that made her blush daily.

“Jinwoo…” she whispered. “Mmh.” He didn’t even open his eyes. “You’re squeezing.” “I’m making sure you’re real.”

Y/N groaned, both flattered and mildly panicked.

Jinwoo found... other priorities.

Y/N was sitting at her desk, reviewing dungeon reports. Jinwoo walked in. Silent. Shadow Monarch smooth. Until he wasn’t. Until he planted his hands on either side of her chair and leaned in. His breath ghosted over her ear. “Take a break.” “I’m busy,” she muttered. He kissed just behind her ear. “Five minutes.” “No.” His lips brushed lower, down her neck. “I can make you forget paperwork.” Y/N swallowed. “I—Jinwoo!” And then he bit her gently.

She never finished those reports.

Y/N tried. Really, she did. She thought maybe tonight she’d cook dinner in peace. But no.

Jinwoo was behind her at the stove. Again. Arms around her waist. Again. Chin on her shoulder. And his hands? “Jinwoo,” she warned. “Yes?” Innocent. “Hands above the waist.” “They are.” “No, they’re not!” He hummed. “That’s a matter of perspective.”

She dropped the spoon. And found herself carried bridal-style to the couch. Dinner burned.

Every night.

…a battlefield. One Y/N lost. Every. Time.

He’d pull her close. Slide his fingers through her hair. Brush kisses over her temple. And then— “Wife,” he whispered, reverent. “You do remember I’m your wife every day, right?” she teased. “Mhm.” His gaze was molten. “But I like saying it. Because now you’re mine.” She arched a brow. “I was yours before.” “Now it’s forever.”

Cue: steamy kisses. Cue: hands on her waist. Cue: Jinwoo exploring every inch of her like it was the first time.

And that stamina recovery skill? It was real. Y/N had to beg for mercy.

“Jinwoo, wait—nooo!” “Yes,” he growled, smirking. “Yesss.”

The soft hum of the coffee maker filled the kitchen, mingling with the sizzle of bacon in the pan. Y/N stood at the counter, barefoot in nothing but Jinwoo’s oversized black shirt, the hem brushing against her thighs. Her hair was still tousled from sleep—or rather, from the lack of it, thanks to the last night’s stamina training lead by Jinwoo. The scent of fresh coffee and toasted bread wafted through the air as she flipped a pancake, her hips swaying slightly to an imaginary tune.

Jinwoo leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with a lazy, predatory grin. He’d slipped on a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, leaving his chiseled torso bare. The honeymoon had been a blur of tangled sheets and whispered promises, but being back home didn’t mean the fire had dimmed. If anything, seeing Y/N in his shirt, moving so casually in their space, only stoked it higher.

“Smells good,” he said, his voice low and rough from sleep, though his eyes weren’t on the food.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, catching the heat in his gaze. “The pancakes or me?” she teased, smirking as she turned back to the stove.

“Both,” he replied, pushing off the wall and stalking toward her. His footsteps were silent, but she felt his presence before his hands even touched her—warm, calloused fingers sliding over her hips, pulling her back against him.

“Jinwoo,” she laughed, half-protesting as she tried to focus on flipping the bacon. “I’m gonna burn breakfast. AGAIN..”

“Let it burn,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot as his lips grazed her neck. His hands slipped under the shirt, tracing the curve of her waist before dipping lower, teasing the edge of her panties. “I’m hungry for something else.”

Her breath hitched, the spatula trembling in her hand. “You’re insatiable,” she managed, though her voice was already wavering, her body leaning into his touch despite herself.

“Says the one who kept me up all night,” he shot back, nipping at her earlobe. One hand slid up to cup her breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak, while the other dipped beneath the fabric between her thighs, finding her already slick with want. “Seems like you’re not complaining.”

“Jinwoo—” Her protest melted into a moan as he pressed himself harder against her, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable through the thin sweatpants. The bacon popped in the pan, forgotten, as he spun her around to face him, pinning her against the counter.

His lips crashed into hers, hungry and unrelenting, tasting of last night’s wine and the promise of more. She clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he hoisted her up, setting her on the edge of the counter. The shirt rode up, exposing her to the cool air—and to him. His eyes darkened, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he dropped to his knees.

“Breakfast can wait,” he said, voice thick with lust, before burying his face between her thighs.

Y/N gasped, her hands flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as his tongue worked her over with ruthless precision. He knew her too well—every spot, every rhythm that made her unravel. The kitchen filled with her breathless moans, the coffee maker beeping in the background like a distant applause. Her legs trembled, hooked over his shoulders, and he gripped her thighs tighter, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

“Jinwoo—oh god—” She was close, teetering on the edge, when he pulled back just enough to look up at her, lips glistening, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Not yet,” he said, standing and tugging his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. He was hard, aching, and the sight of him made her whimper. He stepped between her legs, aligning himself with her entrance, teasing her with the tip. “I want to feel you when you come.”

She didn’t have time to respond before he thrust into her, deep and unrelenting, filling her completely. The counter creaked under them as he set a brutal pace, hands gripping her hips to pull her into every stroke. Y/N’s head tipped back, a string of curses spilling from her lips as pleasure crashed through her. The kitchen was a mess of heat and sound—the slap of skin, the clatter of a spatula hitting the floor, her cries mingling with his grunts.

“Fuck, you’re perfect, I love you,” he rasped, one hand sliding up to tangle in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. He bit down lightly, marking her as his, and that was enough to send her over the edge. She shattered around him, clenching tight, her whole body shaking as she came undone.

Jinwoo groaned, following her a moment later, spilling inside her with a final, shuddering thrust. They stayed like that, panting and tangled, until the smell of charred bacon finally broke through the haze.

Y/N laughed weakly, shoving at his chest. “You did let it burn.”

He smirked, kissing her slow and deep, still buried inside her. “Worth it.”

Several months, dozens of late-night snack runs, and countless stamina training have passed.

Fenrir had become strangely clingy.

Wherever Y/N went, the giant primordial wolf followed. Silent, looming, and attentive. His shadowy fur blended easily into the castle walls, and his glowing eyes tracked every move she made.

To most, it was unsettling. To Y/N, it was endearing… if a bit much.

“Fenrir,” Y/N sighed one morning, balancing a tray of snacks in her hands. “I love you, but you’re breathing down my neck.”

The massive wolf huffed quietly through his nose but didn’t budge from his spot at her side.

“I’m not helpless,” she said with a grin. “I can fight too, remember?”

Fenrir remained unmoving, his gaze dropping briefly to her midsection.

“You carry more than your own life now, my Queen,” Fenrir thought, ancient and knowing. “You carry the legacy of our King, and of this world yet to come.”

Y/N blinked at his look. “What? What’s that look?” No answer. Only quiet, dignified silence.

But Fenrir was already certain. He had felt it—the pulse of a life unlike any other. Small, yes. Fragile… not quite. There was power stirring within Y/N. Ancient, deep, and coiled like a newborn star.

“This child will eclipse even the light of this world,” he mused silently. “And I shall be its first sentinel.”

Y/N chuckled, scratching behind his ear without understanding the full weight of his presence. “You’re being weird today.”

Fenrir closed his eyes, indulging her affection briefly. But his mind was ever watchful. Silent guardian of life.

Over the next few days, Fenrir did not leave Y/N' side.

He sat at the edge of every room. He watched over her as she napped in the garden, his great form a living monument beside her. His breathing was so silent that even Beru once mistook him for a statue.

Jinwoo noticed. “Has he been like this all day?”

Y/N nodded, amused. “Yep. Clingy puppy mode.”

Fenrir snorted at the label, though his great body remained still.

“Puppy,” he mused, almost offended. “If only you knew, little Queen. I was ancient before your stars were born.” Still… he allowed the label. For her.

As they walked inside, Jinwoo kept an arm around Y/N. Fenrir followed. Unseen. Unheard. Watching.

The days after Fenrir’s mysterious behavior?

Pure chaos.

Y/N woke up clingier than ever. But also… bitey.

Jinwoo was lying on the couch, minding his own business, when suddenly— “Chomp.” Her teeth sank into his cheek. “Y/N… what are you doing?” he asked patiently. “I dunno,” she mumbled, still attached. “You’re… biting me.” “It’s because you’re so cute.” Chomp. “…I’m glad you think so.”

Later that night? Chomp. On his bicep. “I’m not food, you know,” he murmured. “You taste like husband,” she shrugged.

At 2:00 AM, Y/N shook him awake. “Jinwoo.” “Hm?” “I want strawberries.” “…Okay.”

Shadow exchange. Strawberries obtained. He returned… Y/N was asleep.

At 3:15 AM. “Jinwoo.” “…Yes?” “I want tteokbokki.” “Coming right up.”

Shadow exchange. Fresh tteokbokki. He returned… Y/N stared at it. “…I changed my mind.” “…To what?” “Chocolate milk.” Jinwoo sighed. “Got it.” Shadow exchange again. Chocolate milk. He returned… Y/N was snoring.

Y/N was happily chatting with Mrs. Sung in the living room, both of them perched on the couch like detectives dissecting a major scandal. Their hands flew through the air as they reenacted scenes, eyes wide with shared disbelief.

“Eomma! Have you seen the latest episode?!” Y/N gasped, grabbing Mrs. Sung’s arm like it was a lifeline. Mrs. Sung nodded, scandalized. “I did! That cheating man got caught—red-handed! With the other woman! In her car!” Y/N clutched her chest like she’d been personally betrayed. “And when she smacked him in front of everyone?! I swear I heard that slap in my soul!” Mrs. Sung leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You know, they say she practiced her slap on a melon to get the sound just right.”

At that moment, Jinwoo casually walked by, sipping his coffee. Y/N slowly turned her head to give him the look. The silent warning. The don’t you dare stare. Jinwoo froze, lowering his mug just slightly. “…What did I do?” Mrs. Sung patted Y/N’ hand approvingly. “That’s right. You let them know.” Y/N gave a tiny nod of solidarity… then blinked, her fingers tightening slightly. The room tilted, just for a second.

“Ah…” she murmured faintly. Mrs. Sung immediately caught her shoulder. “Y/N? Are you alright?” Jinwoo was already there in an instant, coffee abandoned, his hand steadying her waist. “What’s wrong?” His voice dipped low, serious. Y/N waved a hand, attempting a small laugh. “I’m fine! Just… maybe too much excitement.” Jinwoo didn’t look convinced. “No more watching dramas,” he declared.

Mrs. Sung stood up without another word, disappeared into the hallway, and came back holding a pregnancy test kit like she had it prepped for emergencies. “Trust me, I’ve been through this before—and survived.” she said matter-of-factly, handing it over like a seasoned battlefield medic. Y/N stared. “Wait, I—” “Bathroom. Now.”

Jinwoo peeked in from the kitchen, his brow furrowed. “What’s going on?” Mrs. Sung pointed at him without looking. “You. Sit. Stay.” Jinwoo sat like an obedient son.

Y/N returned a few minutes later, staring down at the stick in her hand. Two pink lines. “Uh…” she managed.

Mrs. Sung leaned over, squinted, and then let out a squeal that shook the heavens. “Oh-ho-ho! My grandbaby!!” She spun toward Jinwoo. “You did good! You worked hard!” she praised.

Jinwoo blinked. “I… did?” Mrs. Sung grabbed his shoulders and shook him proudly. “My son! So diligent! So productive! I knew all that stamina would come in handy!” “M-Mom!” Y/N slapped her palm over her face.

But Jinwoo’s brain was already overheating from pure happiness. He swept Y/N right off the floor into his arms. “You’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!” “I’m—Jinwoo, dizzy, remember—” Too late. He spun her around like they just won a game show.

“Jinwoo!!” Y/N yelped, gripping his neck. “PUT ME DOWN!” “But I’m happy!!” “YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE ME THROW UP ON YOU!” Mrs. Sung cheered them on from the couch. “Spin her again! She’s glowing!” Y/N shot her a look of betrayal. “Mother!!” “Don’t worry! If you throw up, it means he’s blessed!”

Fenrir, who was watching from the doorway, simply huffed in dignified silence. Chaos, he thought. Humans.

Jinwoo finally stopped spinning, setting Y/N down gently but beaming from ear to ear. “I’m going to be a dad…” he whispered, kissing her forehead softly. Y/N, still a little green, poked his cheek. “You owe me tteokbokki and strawberry milk for this.” He nodded solemnly. “I’m on it.”

Meanwhile, In Jinwoo’s inner domain.

For a moment, there was complete silence.

And then chaos.

“KYEEEEEEEHHHH!” Beru screamed, launching into the air like an overgrown cicada on steroids. “THE QUEEN IS WITH CHILD! THE MONARCH’S HEIR APPROACHES! ALL HAIL!”

Bellion let out an actual chuckle—deep, rumbling, and shockingly gleeful for a seven-foot-tall armored nightmare. “Congratulations, Shall I prepare a regiment of guards for the nursery.”

Igris silently drew his sword and saluted. A glowing black rose appeared in his free hand. He held it aloft with reverence, as if offering tribute.

Tusk was already scribbling furiously on a stone tablet: “Enchantment Plan: Anti-Teleportation, Anti-Flying, Baby-Proofing Fortresses.”

Even Greed, normally stoic, pumped both fists in the air like he’d just won the lottery.

Beru landed dramatically. “The next monarch will be legendary! We must celebrate, my king! A feast! A blood offering!”

“NO BLOOD OFFERING!” They object in unison.

It was “supposed” to be a calm evening.

Y/N sat cross-legged on their bed, flipping through a baby name book, while Jinwoo lounged next to her, elbows propped up, scrolling through his phone with intense concentration. His expression was so serious, you’d think he was reading a classified guild report… but no. He was deep in a list of baby girl names.

“How about Hana?” Jinwoo said, tapping the screen and showing it to her. Y/N blinked. “Why are you searching girl names?” Jinwoo looked at her like she was the one being weird. “Because it’s going to be a girl.” Y/N choked on her water.

“Excuse me?” she said, wiping her mouth. Jinwoo shrugged, completely casual. “It’s a girl. I know it.” Y/N set her glass down very slowly. “No, it’s going to be a boy.” “Nope. Girl.” “Boy!” “Definitely a girl.” “Why are you so sure!?” Y/N huffed, smacking his arm with the book.

Jinwoo turned toward her with that unreadable face, but his ears were turning a little red. “Because,” he said seriously, “I want her to look like you. Energetic like you.” Y/N’s cheeks flushed immediately. “She’d be chaos,” Jinwoo added with a faint smile, “but she’ll light up this house like you do.”

Y/N gawked at him for a second, then smacked his shoulder again—but gentler this time. “Stop saying sweet things, you’re trying to distract me.” “It’s working,” Jinwoo replied smoothly.

She crossed her arms. “It’s a boy. I’m sure.” Jinwoo gave her a look. “How are you sure?” Y/N gulped. Because I read the manhwa and Suho is adorable! But she kept her mouth shut and glared right back. “Woman’s intuition.”

Jinwoo leaned closer, narrowing his eyes. “You’re wrong.” “Oh, I’m wrong?” “Yes. I made the baby,” Jinwoo said, raising an eyebrow. “I did all the effort.” Y/N blinked. “…And?” “The baby’s just paying rent in your womb,” he finished casually, as if it was scientific fact.

Y/N froze. “You WHAT!?” Jinwoo nodded solemnly. “Rent.” “You did NOT just say that—” “Full payment in kicks,” Jinwoo added. “See? Efficient tenant.”

Y/N threw the pillow at his face. Jinwoo caught it effortlessly, smirking as she lunged to tackle him. “You jerk! You dare say I’m just an innkeeper!?” “You’re a beautiful, glowing innkeeper,” Jinwoo teased, catching her wrists and pulling her down into his lap.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you,” she muttered. Jinwoo kissed her temple. “And you’re lucky I’m a responsible landlord.” “Jinwoo!” “I’ll offer a discount on rent if you kiss me right now.”

Y/N groaned into his shoulder, but she was laughing as she did it.

Fenrir, watching from the corner like the dignified guardian he was, sighed heavily and turned his back on them. Idiots, he thought. They will raise a kingdom, and yet… they are idiots.

Few months have passed.

It all started at 4 AM. As it always does.

Y/N woke up to a weird cramp. She poked Jinwoo in the ribs. “Wake up. I think this is it.” Jinwoo shot out of bed like he was raiding an S-rank dungeon. “WHERE’S THE BAG?!” “You packed it a week ago,” Y/N deadpanned, clutching her belly. Fenrir was already waiting by the door, dignified as ever but his tail wagging. It’s time.

They made it to the hospital in record time, partly because Jinwoo threatened to teleport them directly into the delivery room.

The contractions got worse. Y/N’ mood got… intense.

Mrs. Sung held her hand on one side. “You’re doing great, dear!” Y/N sniffled. “Eomma… thank you for being here.” “You’re my daughter now,” Mrs. Sung said firmly, kissing her forehead. “And after this, we’ll make Jinwoo your servant for a month.” “Make it a year,” Y/N groaned. “Deal.”

Meanwhile, Jinwoo was on her other side, holding her other hand like it was his lifeline. “You’ve got this,” he said quietly, but he was pale as hell. Y/N cracked an eye open. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” Jinwoo lied. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.” “Nope.” His face twitched. “I’m cheering for you.” “You look like I’m your support character and you’re dying in battle.”

The next contraction hit, and Y/N screamed his name. “JINWOO YOU DID THIS TO ME!!!” Jinwoo’s eyes widened. “I… yes, but—” “YOU’RE DEAD!!!” She crushed his hand in a vice grip. Jinwoo swore he heard bones crack. But he smiled anyway. “You’re doing amazing, Y/N. You’re so strong.”

Finally—after what felt like an all-night raid boss battle with no healer, half their mana gone, and aggro pulling left and right—the baby’s first cries echoed through the room.

Y/N gasped, the sound hitting her like a critical strike to the heart. “It’s a boy!” the doctor announced with a grin, carefully placing the tiny, crying bundle onto Y/N’ chest.

For a moment, everything stopped. Y/N slumped back against the bed, exhausted tears slipping down her cheeks as she stared at their son in awe. Jinwoo froze beside her, his breath caught in his throat. “…A boy,” he repeated softly, like he couldn’t believe it. Like the word alone might shatter if he spoke too loudly.

Y/N gave him a tired but victorious grin. “Told you so.” Jinwoo let out a shaky laugh that broke halfway through, his shoulders trembling. His dark eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, were now brimming with tears as he leaned in close. He kissed her temple first, gently, then their son’s tiny, wrinkled hand. “You did so well,” Jinwoo whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion. Tears slid silently down his cheeks as he smiled at them both like they were his entire world. “I… couldn’t ask for more.”

And then it hit them. Both of them. Without a word, they started crying—quietly at first, tears of pure joy they didn’t try to hide. Y/N cradled Suho close to her chest, laughing between the tears as Jinwoo rested his forehead against hers. Outside the room, someone must have heard the baby’s first cry because, moments later, they heard muffled cheers, followed by sniffles and someone (probably Mrs. Sung) full-on sobbing.

Jinwoo finally pulled back, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but his smile stayed soft as he gazed down at his son. “He’s… beautiful,” he murmured. Y/N sniffled, brushing her fingers through the soft tuft of black hair on Suho’s head. “You think he’ll stay this cute, or will he start brooding and scaring people by the time he’s five?” Jinwoo chuckled. “If he takes after me… maybe four.” Y/N smirked, though her eyes were still glossy. “Better teach him how to smile early, then.”

Suho let out a tiny whimper, his little face scrunching in protest. Jinwoo’s expression softened even more—something Y/N hadn’t thought possible—as he carefully picked up his son, cradling him in his arms with the same reverence as if he were holding an ancient relic. “Shh,” he murmured, swaying slightly. “Time to sleep, little shadow.” And like magic—no, like Jinwoo—Suho settled almost immediately, his tiny fist curled against his father’s chest.

Y/N watched them both, utterly in love, and whispered, “He already trusts you… guess he knows who’s overpowered in this family.” Jinwoo chuckled quietly, keeping his gaze on their son as he replied, “No. That’s you.

Meanwhile, in Jinwoo’s Inner Domain.

The vast shadow plains trembled. A pulse of life, raw and ancient, rippled out.

Beru froze in mid-air, antennae twitching wildly. Then his insectoid mandibles split into a terrifying grin.

“KYEEEH! THE YOUNG MASTER HAS ARRIVED!” he shrieked.

Bellion dropped his sword point-first into the obsidian ground and roared. “IT IS TIME.”

What time? Nobody knew, but it sounded official.

Then it happened.

The elite Shadows who’d once been kings, warlords, and monsters… devolved into absolute chaos.

The High Orcs, normally stoic and terrifying, began chanting in deep, guttural voices as they formed a perfect circle.

“UGA! UGA! PRINCE! UGA!”

They stomped their feet rhythmically, shaking the obsidian ground. Then they started clapping in sync, forming a drum line with their fists pounding into their own thick chests.

One of them pulled out… maracas.

No one knew where he got them. No one asked.

Overhead, Kaisel, the fearsome dragon, landed with a bone-jarring THUD.

And then…

He tucked his tiny, bony arms under his ribs, flapped his massive skeletal wings like a chicken, and started bobbing his head in a full-on chicken dance.

Clap-clap! Flap-flap! Wiggle-wiggle!

Somehow, Kaisel managed to moonwalk backward while doing it.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!” screamed a random mage-class shadow, openly sobbing with joy and confusion.

Bellion clutched his helmet, but the dignified knight was smiling. “The King’s heir is born. We rejoice.”

Beru launched himself off Bellion’s back like a missile, doing triple flips while screaming, “KYEEEHH! SHADOW PRINCE! KYEEEHHH!!”

The group of mage shadows joined hands in a ring, hopping  up and down, spinning in dizzy circles and flinging off fireworks spells like they were in a rave. One accidentally cast Meteor Shower—thankfully, it fizzled harmlessly.

Tusk screamed “UNCLE TUSK! TUSK CELEBRATE!” over and over again, scooping smaller shadows up and throwing them skyward like toddlers on a trampoline.

Greed flew by with another handmade banner trailing behind him. This one read:

“PRINCE SUHO: FIRST BLOOD, FIRST BITE, FIRST CRY—THE LEGACY BEGINS.”

Even Igris, ever the silent knight, was clapping politely… until Beru tackled him around the waist like a football striker scoring the winning goal.

They all ended up in a dogpile while Kaisel flapped over them in chicken dance formation.

Fenrir stood at the edges of the chaos, his golden eyes narrowing.

Buffoons. Every single one of them.

But his ears flicked once as if in approval.

And then he laid down beside Suho’s bassinet in the real world, resting his muzzle nearby. If anyone tried to approach the young heir, they’d be eating teeth.

He might let Kaisel squawk, but nobody messes with the pup.

The hospital room was finally quiet.

Y/N had drifted into an exhausted sleep not long after the delivery, her breathing soft and steady, a faint smile lingering on her lips even as she dozed. Jinwoo had tucked the blanket around her carefully, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. He kissed her forehead softly, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, before slipping out of the room.

He needed to see their son.

The nursery was dim, the soft glow of the lights casting a warm haze over the row of bassinets. Jinwoo’s steps were nearly silent, his hands slipping into his pockets like he always did when his mind was racing. But the moment his eyes landed on the tiny, wriggling bundle marked Sung Baby, he froze.

For a full minute, he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just stared.

His feet carried him to the glass window on their own. He placed both hands against it, as if he could reach through the barrier, as if he could hold him again.

Suho was sleeping peacefully, his tiny fists balled up near his cheeks, his breaths soft and even. Occasionally, he made an adorable little noise that Jinwoo was sure sounded like a battle cry. That’s my son, he thought, pride swelling in his chest. Our son.

Jinwoo let out a shaky breath, smiling, even as tears gathered in his eyes. “You’re really here,” he murmured, voice soft. “We were fighting over your gender for months, you know.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve even though more tears slipped through. “Your mama was so sure you were a boy. She always wins, doesn’t she?” He shook his head fondly. “She’s cool like that.”

His fingers gently tapped the glass, like he was trying to get Suho’s attention even though he knew his son wouldn’t open those sleepy eyes just yet. “Hey… whatever you are, whoever you become…” Jinwoo whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ll always be here. For you. For your mama. I’ll protect you both.”

Another tiny noise came from Suho’s crib. Jinwoo laughed again, a quiet, breathless sound. “You agree with me, huh? Mama is pretty cool.”

He stood there a little longer, hands still pressed to the glass, watching his son sleep like it was the most important mission of his life. Because it was.

“Welcome to the world, Suho,” Jinwoo said softly. “I’ll make sure it’s a good one for you.”

They had barely returned from the hospital when it happened.

Y/N had just sat down on the couch, Jinwoo was fussing over adjusting her pillows (even though she swore she was fine), and baby Suho was snuggled in her arms—when Beru approached.

Very slowly.

Very seriously.

“May I… borrow the Young Master for a moment, my Queen?”

Y/N blinked, suspicious. “Uh… why?”

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. “Beru.”

Beru gave a dramatic bow, wings spread wide, his giant claws respectfully close to his chest. “I have seen something most inspiring in the human world. A sacred rite… for the future ruler.”

Jinwoo sighed. “You’ve been watching TV again, haven’t you?”

But Y/N was already handing over Suho with a grin. “Oh, this I need to see.”

Beru carefully scooped the bundled baby into his long arms like he was holding a priceless treasure—which, in his mind, he totally was.

Without another word, Beru marched toward the nearest open balcony.

Y/N sat up straighter. “Wait, where’s he going?”

Jinwoo was already on his feet. “Beru, no!”

But it was too late.

“.....................”

The moment Beru reached the balcony, Kaisel soared out of nowhere, landing smoothly at his side, as if he’d been summoned. Bellion was already there, standing tall and proud like some royal bodyguard. And Fenrir… Fenrir stood regally beside them, tail swishing with dignified approval.

And then it happened.

Beru lifted baby Suho high into the air, his black wings flaring wide behind him. “BEHOLD! THE FUTURE HEIR!”

The shadow legion, gathered below in the training yard, immediately dropped to one knee in perfect unison, heads bowed. Some were actually crying. No, wait—that was the mage corps.

And then there was Tusk.

Oh, Tusk.

Tusk stepped forward, his staff slamming into the ground with a mighty thud. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began chanting in a deep, rumbling voice, his tone like the rise of an ancient storm:

“NNNAAAAAAHHHHHH… SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVEENNYYYYYAAAAAA… BABA GEE TIBABAAAAA…”

His voice echoed, mana crackling faintly in the air as if the heavens themselves were watching.

Jinwoo was frozen at the door, jaw slack. “What… what is happening.”

Y/N was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.

Beru turned slowly, as if hearing them, his voice full of reverence. “I have watched the Sacred Tale, my King and Queen. It is the Circle of Life. I'm so honored.”

Jinwoo ran a hand down his face.

Beru ignored him, still holding Suho high as the entire Shadow Legion started chanting something in perfect unison that sounded suspiciously like “Nants ingonyama bagithi baba!”

Y/N wheezed.

Jinwoo muttered, “I should’ve limited his screen time.”

Y/N wiped her tears of laughter, leaning into her husband. “Oh no, I love this. Our son’s first official introduction? Perfection.”

Jinwoo sighed, then smiled helplessly as he watched his legion honor their tiny prince with the most dramatic moment in existence.

Suho, for his part, let out a tiny yawn and sneezed.

The entire Shadow Legion gasped in unison and immediately bowed lower.

Beru clutched Suho to his chest. “Blessed be the Young Master! His power is mighty already!”

Y/N giggled. “You know what? We need to record this.”

A few weeks after Suho was born, it became undeniable. He was a miniature Jinwoo. Jet-black hair that already flopped messily over his forehead, serious little brows furrowed even while he slept, and a natural “resting monarch face” that made the everyone coo but also salute him instinctively.

“He looks like you copy-pasted your face onto a baby,” Y/N mumbled one morning, her cheek pressed against Jinwoo’s shoulder as they stared at Suho napping in his crib. Jinwoo smirked proudly, one arm wrapped around her waist. “Good genes.” Y/N reached up and playfully tugged his ear. “Yeah, well. The biting worked.”

Jinwoo groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Don’t bring that up again. You bit me every day during the pregnancy.” “And look how perfect he turned out,” Y/N said smugly, poking Suho’s chubby cheek gently with her finger. “That’s the price of a masterpiece.”

Mrs. Sung was over the moon. She visited almost every day, bringing home-cooked meals and cooing over Suho as if he was made of pure gold. “Jinwoo-ah, you finally did something right,” she sniffled one day as she held Suho, her eyes gleaming. “This child is perfect. My grandson will rule the playground and the world.” “Mom,” Jinwoo sighed. “Don’t ‘Mom’ me! If you breathe wrongly around Y/N, I’ll slap you.” Y/N, sipping her tea beside her, gave Jinwoo a sweet, smug smile. “You heard your mom.”

Mrs. Sung beamed and patted Y/N's head like a precious child.

Jinwoo? He stood off to the side. Quiet. Slightly confused why his mom gave his wife the nickname “Daughter” and him the 'side-eye in-law' look.

Jinah became the coolest aunt in existence. She had already bought Suho tiny sneakers that lit up and attempted to teach him fist bumps—despite him being only two months old. “Bro, this kid’s going to be an athlete and a genius,” she bragged, holding up Suho. “Put him down,” Jinwoo deadpanned. “Not until he does the fist bump.”

Even Jinho—Uncle Jinho, Y/N’s walking wallet, as Y/N declared—got involved, spoiling Suho with plushies and random baby gadgets. “This kid’s got VIP insurance and a gold spoon in his mouth,” Jinho said proudly. “I’m calling it: future president.” “He’s not even sitting up yet,” Jinwoo replied, but he was smiling anyway.

After the fiasco with Fenrir howling mysteriously during the pregnancy, Jinwoo wasn’t taking chances. Tusk worked overtime carving anti-teleportation and anti-flying runes into the house. Every corner had subtle, glowing glyphs. “We’re locked down tighter than a national treasure vault,” Jinwoo said, hands on his hips. Y/N patted his back. “Good job. But if he shadow-exchanges into the fridge again, we’re going to have a problem.” “...That was one time.”

By six months, Suho could hover. By eight months, he could shadow exchange… randomly. One moment he was in his crib, the next he was sitting on top of Fenrir’s head, giggling as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Fenrir, ever dignified, simply sighed in his deep, ancient way and carried the baby like an heir on a throne. “Such power in one so small,” Fenrir mused. “The realms will tremble.”

They learned to keep an eye on Suho constantly. Y/N, however, wasn’t surprised at all. “I told you,” she said one night, as they both watched Suho playing with Igris’ helmet like a toy. “He’s destined to be overpowered.” Jinwoo just sighed, hugging her from behind. “At least he’s cute.” Y/N leaned back into his chest. “That’s the biting.” “Please stop saying that.”

One sunny afternoon, while Suho was peacefully gnawing on Beru’s antenna (Beru, ever the loyal subject, simply buzzed with pride), Y/N found herself on the couch, cuddled up next to Jinwoo. Jinwoo was flipping through reports on his tablet, while Y/N scrolled through old photos on her phone.

Out of nowhere, Y/N started giggling.

Jinwoo glanced at her. “What’s funny?” Y/N turned to him, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m just thinking about our love story.” Jinwoo raised an eyebrow, putting his tablet down. “What about it?” She sat up, cracked her knuckles dramatically, and with a grin, declared, “It all started with sniffing… and ended with biting.” Jinwoo sighed. “Not this again.” “Oh yes,” Y/N said, poking his cheek. “And now? That sniffing and biting combo gave us Suho.”

Suho giggled in response, still hanging off Beru’s antenna like it was a jungle gym.

Y/N clapped her hands once. “Okay! Listen up, baby. Mama’s gonna tell you the story of how you came to be.” Jinwoo groaned. “He’s six months old. He doesn’t need to hear this.”

Y/N winked at Suho, who floated a little higher in excitement. “Too late. He deserves to know the truth.”

And maybe one day, Suho would understand the chaos, the love, and the wild adventures that brought them here.

But for now, the Shadow Monarch, his Queen, and their flying baby prince had everything they could ever need.

“The End… for now.”

<< Chapter 17

Tag requests: @kisssleeping; @catsf0rlife707; @aorifukuzawa; @joannthebish; @ojog404; @tanspostsblog; @snowy-violet; @o-qi-shisme; @sleepyamaya; @harrystylesfan2686; @night-shadowblood-writes2; @weaponxgames; @bubera974; @moonlightsof; @limerenceisserenity; @mashiromochi; @its-carlerrr; @kuramiachan; @purplehazzes; @leviackerman2030; @estrnrea;

Dear Y/Ns,

First of all—thank you! No, seriously… a HUGE thank you for riding along on this absolutely chaotic fanfic! From the very first moment Y/N sniffed Jinwoo to the legendary biting that somehow led to Baby Suho (who’s already flying around and dodging anti-teleportation runes like a tiny pro.) And I’m so, so happy you joined me to this madness lol.

I hope this story made you laugh, cry, and maybe shout, "WHY IS KAISER MOONWALKING?!" At least once. (Don’t worry,,, I’m still asking myself the same thing! Sigh…)

And guess what? I’m already cooking up some side stories—whether it’s Jinwoo’s Prime Hitting In (Yas… it’s steamy🔥) or another chaotic one-shot adventure with action, fluff, and who knows what else! If my imagination runs wild again, well… no one is safe...

Thank you again for all your support, comments, and good vibes! Y/N and Jinwoo’s story might be wrapping up for now, but who knows what’s next? If you have fun ideas or moments you’d love to see, feel free to share them—I’d love to hear from you!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18 (Ending)

Sequel - Echoes of Fate (1)

Sequel - Echoes of Fate (2)

Sequel - Echoes of Fate (3)

The sun was rising slowly, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink. And when the light hit the stone on her finger— It shimmered. Not just pretty, but alive, as if it was holding a little piece of the sun itself.

Y/N turned her hand, watching it glow. Her chest felt strangely warm, like something quietly settled into place.

“…You okay?” Jinwoo murmured into her ear; his voice still rough from sleep.

Y/N smiled softly, still staring at the ring. “Yeah. It’s just… when I look at this, I feel safe. Like I belong somewhere. Like I’m… loved.”

Jinwoo squeezed her waist, tugging her closer, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You are,” he whispered.

She blushed furiously but didn’t look away from the ring. It sparkled again. “…Also, it’s really shiny. I might blind someone if I flex hard enough.”

Jinwoo chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder again. “I’ll make sure they live.”

By the time they got back home, Y/N was still admiring the way the sunlight caught on her ring. She flexed it in front of random shiny things. The toaster. The window. Even Igris’ chest plate when he emerged briefly from the shadows to deliver coffee.

“I am powerful,” she whispered dramatically.

Jinwoo was too amused to stop her. But as soon as they stepped through the front door—

“THERE SHE IS!!” A shriek erupted from the living room. Y/N froze.

Jinah and Mrs. Sung appeared like they’d rappelled down from the ceiling. SWAT-mode: Activated. Y/N barely managed to squeak before they closed in.

“Hand,” Jinah demanded. Y/N instinctively held it up. Both of them gasped in unison like they were evaluating the crown jewels.

“Oh-hoh-hoh,” Mrs. Sung murmured, already dialing her phone. “The dress designer is getting a call right now,” Jinah said, eyes gleaming. “I’ll handle the venue,” Mrs. Sung nodded. “Florist is mine!” “Catering!” “GUEST LIST—”

Y/N stood there, completely blindsided. “Wait—wait!! We just got engaged! We haven’t even picked a date! Or—or—” “You snooze, you lose!” Jinah shouted. “Fast weddings are the trend now!” Mrs. Sung agreed.

Y/N gave Jinwoo a look of pure betrayal, who was… Just watching them with his arms crossed, clearly entertained. “Help me!” she mouthed at him.

He raised his mug in salute. “Good luck.”

Y/N groaned dramatically as Jinah and Mrs. Sung dragged her toward the kitchen table already covered in wedding magazines and fabric swatches.

The grand conference room of the Korean Hunter Association was filled to capacity. Not just with Korea’s strongest hunters, but with representatives and guild leaders from around the world. Some sat in person, others attending through massive holographic screens surrounding the room.

It was a historic event. The final debriefing after the largest and most terrifying threat the world had ever known. The Primordial Hunger—a cataclysm that nearly consumed existence itself—had been defeated.

And standing before them was the man who had made that possible. Sung Jinwoo. The Shadow Monarch. And beside him… Y/N. A mystery to many, but someone whose role was undeniable.

Chairman Go Gunhee cleared his throat to begin. But he did not speak. He gestured to Jinwoo instead.

Jinwoo stepped forward. He didn’t need notes. His voice carried across the entire room, steady and sure.

“The Primordial Hunger has been eliminated.”

“Its destruction halted the collapse of dimensional barriers. The rifts that threatened to devour our world have sealed. The balance between realms has been restored.”

He paused, letting his words resonate through the chamber.

“For now… there are no further threats.”

His gaze swept over the hunters gathered.

“Many of you felt the change. The unnatural silence that followed the chaos. You have asked whether this peace is genuine. I am here to tell you… it is.”

His tone softened, but his words remained resolute.

“For the first time in years, we are not standing at the edge of extinction. No Monarchs remain. No Rulers are moving behind the scenes. There is no enemy in hiding. And if anything changes… I’ll be the first to know.”

He looked down at his hands for a moment, as if weighing something unseen.

“The sacrifices made… were not in vain.”

Jinwoo’s eyes shifted to Y/N briefly before continuing.

“Peace has returned. But peace, as I have learned, is not simply the absence of war. It’s the presence of something worth protecting. Family. Friends. Loved ones. This world.”

Another breath. A heavier pause.

“As hunters, we fight. We bleed. And sometimes we fall. But we do it to protect what matters.”

Jinwoo lifted his head fully now, his presence filling the room.

“And now… it’s time we live for it.”

There was silence at first. Then Go Gunhee stood. And he began to clap.

One by one, everyone in the room rose to their feet. Applause swelled from a ripple into a wave. A standing ovation that spanned countries and continents. Even the hunters online could be seen applauding on the holographic screens, some even saluting.

Y/N sat still. The thunder of applause washing over her like ocean waves. But her mind was somewhere else entirely.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She remembered the manhwa so clearly. Jinwoo had struggled for years alone. He had sacrificed everything—his humanity, his future—for the sake of victory. And he had found peace, yes… but only after losing so much.

Now he stood tall, smiling, surrounded by people who respected him and by shadows who adored him. He wasn’t alone. And she was here. By his side.

Her fingers brushed over the ring Jinwoo had placed there. Warm. Solid. Steady. A promise that wasn’t in the original story.

Maybe this isn’t how it was supposed to be, she thought. But she turned to look at him anyway. And he was already smiling at her. As if to say: This is how it should be.

She smiled back. Even if she didn’t quite believe it yet… She wanted to.

As the room calmed, hunters slowly gathered their things. Many came forward to shake Jinwoo’s hand. Baek Yoonho clapped him on the back with his usual grin. Choi Jongin nodded respectfully, though his eyes lingered curiously on Y/N. Even Cha Hae In gave a polite bow.

“Thank you,” one of the international guild masters said. “Without you, none of this would have been possible.”

Another chuckled. “You two are heroes.” He glanced at Y/N. “You’ve both earned your peace.”

Jinwoo gave a small, polite smile. Then— “Thank you,” he said. “…We’ll be celebrating soon.” He paused. “I’m getting married.”

The room stilled for one stunned beat. Y/N’ head whipped toward him so fast it was a wonder her neck didn’t snap. “WHAT?” Her voice cracked in disbelief.

Jinwoo blinked at her, completely calm. “You said yes, didn’t you?” He lifted his hand, showing the matching ring on his finger. “Seems clear to me.”

Baek Yoonho barked out a laugh so loud it echoed. Choi Jongin smirked faintly, arms crossed. Even Chairman Go Gunhee smiled, rubbing his temple like a tired dad witnessing his kids’ antics.

Another wave of applause erupted—this one lighter, warmer, and mixed with cheers and laughter.

As they exited the room, Y/N noticed Cha Hae In and Choi Jongin standing together. For a second, she panicked. Weren’t they supposed to be endgame?! She glanced at Jinwoo. Was she stealing someone else’s future?!

But Cha Hae In was calm. And Choi Jongin… Well, he was watching Jinwoo with professional curiosity, not personal jealousy.

Y/N shook it off. She smiled sweetly. And subtly held up her hand. The ring caught the light. Flex.

Cha Hae In noticed. She tilted her head, amused. “A good choice, You are lucky.” she said softly. Y/N nearly tripped over her own feet.

No broken heart? No jealousy? Just a sisterly approval?

After the conference and the sudden wedding announcement chaos, Jinwoo gets approached by one of the high-ranking officials from the Hunter Bureau or the Rulers’ envoy.

Jinwoo doesn’t know if this portal is another threat. He tells himself they’ll investigate it together, but deep down…

Y/N notices him getting quieter and more serious as they prepare to leave. She thinks it’s him being careful—she doesn’t realize it’s him being torn apart inside. He’s always been in control, but this? This makes him anxious. He never gets anxious.

They stood in front of it.

An arch of weathered stone, half-sunken into the forest clearing, humming softly with ancient magic. Pale, crystalline blue light swirled inside its frame—calm. Stable. Peaceful in a way most portals never were.

It wasn’t a gate to danger. It wasn’t a dungeon. They both knew it.

This was a door. Her door.

Y/N exhaled slowly, her hand tightening around Jinwoo’s. Neither spoke. There wasn’t a need. The knowledge settled between them like gravity.

This was her way home.

He couldn’t speak. His throat was tight, his heartbeat loud in his ears. For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at the portal as it shimmered like glass, like water… like a goodbye.

And then— He moved.

Quietly, Jinwoo stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Not tightly. Not possessively.

But his hands trembled when they rested against her waist. And his forehead lowered to her shoulder, hiding the war in his eyes.

Y/N froze at first, then gently laid her hands over his. She could feel the tension running through him like a current.

Jinwoo didn’t trust his voice. If he spoke, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from begging.

She could hear him breathing, slow and uneven against her neck. Feel his grip, warm and grounding and terrified all at once.

The portal in front of them shimmered again, ripples of light flickering softly in invitation. It was ready.

But was she?

Y/N glanced down at his hands holding her, then at the ring on her finger—glinting faintly in the portal’s light. It wasn’t just an object. It was a promise.

Y/N sighed. Then… she laughed. Soft at first, but it grew louder, spilling out of her like she couldn’t believe what was happening. Jinwoo tensed behind her. “What?” She reached up and patted his arm—more like a playful smack. “You idiot,” she said, voice warm and teasing. “You really thought I’d leave you?”

He blinked, stunned by her tone. She half-turned in his arms to look at him properly, grinning up at him despite the shimmer in her eyes. “I already told you,” she said. “You’re my home now.” She tapped her ring against his chest for emphasis. “There’s no one waiting for me on the other side of that portal,” she went on, her voice gentler now. “No family. No adventure better than this. Nothing I want more than what I have right here.”

Jinwoo’s breath hitched as her words sank in, steady and sure, like an anchor pulling him back from the edge. For a moment, his usual calm shattered. A single tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it.

He blinked, surprised at himself, and quickly looked away, as if embarrassed to have let it show. But it was too late. The weight he’d carried for so long—the fear that she would leave, that she would disappear from his life—unraveled in an instant. Ever since he realized he’d fallen for her, that quiet fear had lived in the back of his mind, gnawing at him in every silent moment.

And now? She’d cut through it like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

Without thinking, his hand reached for hers, fingers threading through like it was the most natural thing in the world. His grip was warm, solid, grounding.

“…Thank you,” he murmured, voice rougher than he expected. His dark eyes softened, the unreadable mask slipping just enough for her to catch the rarest thing—his heart wide open. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”

He smiled then. Not the polite, distant curve of his lips everyone else knew. This one was different—bright, unguarded. Like a golden retriever that had just been told they were a good boy after waiting forever to hear it.

And for once, Jinwoo didn’t care that he looked like a fool. Not if it was for her.

Together, hand in hand, they turned away from the portal. No second glances. No hesitation.

But then—

A ripple of energy made the ground hum beneath their feet. Jinwoo instinctively shifted, shielding her, shadows rising at his feet as they both turned sharply back to the arch.

From the blue light of the portal, a figure stepped through. Clad in muted silver and white, their presence was quiet but undeniable. Not threatening, but heavy with something ancient. Their face was calm—too calm, like they had seen too many futures to be surprised anymore.

Y/N gripped Jinwoo’s arm. “Friend or foe?” “Neither,” the figure said, their voice deep but kind. “Only a witness.”

They regarded Jinwoo first, then Y/N. “You both chose well.”

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” “A remnant of balance,” they replied simply. “My time here is brief.”

They gestured toward the portal, which flickered softly behind them. “You were right not to cross. That world has already moved on. Your thread belongs here now.” Y/N squeezed Jinwoo’s hand, steady.

But then the figure’s expression darkened slightly. “You’ve brought peace to this world… but do not mistake peace for safety.” Their gaze fixed on Jinwoo. “Even in the stillness, the future stirs. You cannot predict what lies beyond the veil of time.”

Jinwoo met their stare without flinching. “Then I’ll protect this world. No matter what comes.”

A faint smile crossed the stranger’s face. “I know.”

The figure turned back toward the portal. It pulsed once with light—then dimmed completely. The portal stone cracked down its middle, splitting cleanly as if its purpose was finished.

The figure vanished with it. Gone. No trace.

Y/N let out a shaky breath. “Okay, that was intense.” Jinwoo didn’t say anything at first. He just pulled her close again, holding her for a long, silent moment.

Then— “We’re getting married,” Jinwoo said suddenly, voice firm. Y/N blinked. “I mean… yes?” “No waiting,” he added. “No more portals. No more interruptions.”

Y/N laughed. “Deal.”

The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting molten gold across the obsidian towers of the Shadow Castle. Everything gleamed, every corner alive with warm light and laughter. It was a day no one ever imagined would come. Not Jinwoo. Not Y/N. And certainly not the army of shadows who had spent weeks preparing for it like it was a royal coronation.

In a way, it was.

Y/N stood at the grand entrance, a soft breeze teasing her veil as she tightened her grip on her bouquet. Her gown shimmered like woven starlight, delicate embroidery reminiscent of shadow wisps curling along the hem. At her back, her scythe leaned casually against the wall, because she absolutely insisted on a candid with it later.

“Ready?” Jinwoo’s voice was warm at her ear. She turned, catching his smile—the rare, one he only ever showed her. He looked devastatingly handsome in a black-on-black suit, subtly lined with silver thread. His tie? Crooked. She fixed it with a smirk, tugging him down by the lapels. His ears went pink.

Their friends and comrades filled the massive courtyard. Cha Hae-In wiped a stray tear, pretending she wasn’t crying as she stood beside Jinah, who was a blubbering mess already. Jinwoo’s mother held Jinah’s hand, her own eyes bright with tears as she watched her son standing proud, waiting for his bride.

And the shadows? Oh, the shadows were thrilled. Igris stood like a stoic knight… except his usually rigid posture was now just a little too puffed up with pride. Beru buzzed in place, making a chittering sound like he was holding in a scream. Even Iron polished his helmet to a mirror shine.

A band of orc shadows played music. Badly. But no one cared.

As Y/N walked down the aisle, her gaze locked with Jinwoo’s, and everything else melted away. His hand found hers when she reached him, his fingers trembling the slightest bit. When he said his vows, his voice was steady—but there was that hitch, that one breath that caught when he said, “You’re my world now.”

And when the priest declared them husband and wife?

Jinwoo kissed her like he couldn’t believe this was real. Like he was afraid she’d vanish if he let go.

Chaos.

Glorious, ridiculous chaos.

Jinah launched herself after the bouquet, tackling Hae-In like a linebacker. She popped up with it in her hands, cheering like she’d won the Hunter Association Lottery. Before anyone could stop him, Jinho scrambled under Y/N’ gown during the garter toss (with permission, obviously), and came out with the stocking in hand, beaming. He made direct eye contact with Jinah as he slipped it onto her leg. She turned red.

Everyone screamed.

Selfies were taken everywhere. The giants huddled awkwardly behind Y/N and Jinwoo for one, causing the balcony to creak dangerously. Y/N’ favorite photo? A completely candid shot of her leaning on her scythe in her wedding dress, sunglasses on, with Beru photobombing in the background, flashing peace signs with his claw-hands.

The shadows outdid themselves on the decorations—black roses, floating candles, and obsidian tables covered in elegant food spreads. There was even a chocolate fountain. Beru dipped a strawberry in it, offered it to Jinwoo, and Jinwoo (to everyone’s horror and delight) actually ate it. The crowd lost their minds.

Later, as the sun set in a blaze of red and gold, Jinwoo and Y/N stood on their balcony, away from the noise.

She leaned into him, their fingers tangled loosely. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his expression soft, that warmth slipping through again as if it was the most natural thing in the world now.

“We did it,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Yeah. We did.”

Below them, the courtyard still echoed with laughter and celebration. Shadows danced clumsily in pairs; Jinah and Jinho were now inseparable; his mom had somehow convinced Igris to teach her sword stances.

But up here, it was just them.

He turned her gently, arms sliding around her waist. “Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever leave me,” he said quietly, his forehead resting against hers.

She grinned. “You’re stuck with me, dummy.”

His answering laugh was low, warm. “Good.”

And as the sky burned with colors, Jinwoo kissed his wife again, while their world celebrated below.

The world faded away the moment the castle gates closed behind them.

No armies. No Guild business. No ancient Monarch wars to prepare for.

Just Jinwoo and Y/N.

He had carried her over the threshold—because of course he had—ignoring her playful swats and laughter. They’d arrived at a secluded villa Jinwoo had personally reconstructed in his Shadow Domain. It was something out of a dream. Warm sunlight filtered through sheer curtains. The walls were carved from smooth obsidian, lined with silvery etchings that shimmered faintly when touched. A private garden surrounded them, its flowers blooming in colors impossible anywhere else.

And the silence… was peaceful.

“I thought we’d just… rest here,” Jinwoo murmured as he set her down gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “No one can bother us.”

Y/N smiled, still holding his hand like she might float away if she let go. “You’re sure Beru won’t show up offering strawberries?”

Jinwoo’s grin was crooked. “I left him strict orders. He’s patrolling the castle walls for the next week.”

They both laughed, the sound soft and easy. It was still new—this comfort between them—but it was theirs. She watched him as he moved around the villa, taking his jacket off, rolling his sleeves up, undoing his tie. All casual, but something about him was still so effortlessly magnetic.

They ended up on the couch first. Just sitting. Talking. Her feet tucked under her as he leaned into the cushions, his hand never straying far from hers. He told her stories of his mom and Jinah when they were younger. She told him about her world—her old world—and all the things she missed. They laughed. A lot.

And when the sky turned pink, they found themselves in the garden. He had set up lanterns, their lights glowing like tiny stars. They ate dinner under them, Y/N having somehow learned to cook one decent dish. Just one. Jinwoo teased her, but ate every bite.

Afterward, they danced.

Slow, unpracticed, clumsy at first. But he held her close, his hands warm on her waist, his forehead pressed to hers as if he needed to feel her there. She laughed quietly when he stepped on her toes. He just pulled her closer and muttered, “Sorry,” against her hair.

It was like that all night. Quiet, sweet moments strung together like pearls.

By the time they were back inside, standing by the huge window watching stars spill across the sky, Jinwoo’s arms were wrapped around her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and for a long time, they said nothing.

“You’re my home now,” he whispered eventually.

Y/N turned in his arms, and whatever she said next was lost in the kiss they shared. Slow, tender, and full of everything they couldn’t say with words.

The rest of the night was theirs.

The stars outside the window shimmered, mirrored faintly in the reflection of the obsidian walls. But Jinwoo wasn’t looking at the stars.

He was looking at her.

Y/N stood at the center of their room, bathed in moonlight, her veil set aside hours ago, her dress replaced with something softer, simpler. Something that was just for him. But to him, she would have been beautiful in anything. Or nothing. He couldn’t decide which stole his breath more—her laughter earlier in the garden or the quiet way she was looking at him now.

Like he was the only thing in her world.

His steps were slow as he crossed the room. Deliberate. But his hands were gentle when he touched her, as if she was made of light. Fingers brushed her cheek, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled at him, a small, knowing curve of her lips, and leaned into his palm.

"You're staring," she whispered, her voice soft, playful.

"I’m memorizing," Jinwoo murmured back. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, slow and reverent. "Every time I think I’ve got you all figured out… you do something that makes me fall harder."

Her laugh was quiet, but her cheeks flushed warm. She closed the distance between them with a step, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers fisting lightly in his shirt.

"Good," she whispered. "I plan to keep surprising you."

He bent down then, his forehead resting against hers. For a moment, they just breathed each other in. His hands found her waist, then her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The warmth of her body, the soft sigh she gave when he touched her—it was intoxicating.

Their lips met softly at first. A gentle press. Familiar, sweet. But it didn’t stay that way.

Jinwoo deepened the kiss, his hands moving up to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing over the apples of her cheeks as if he wanted to commit every detail of her to memory. She melted into him, her hands sliding up to frame his jaw. Their kisses became slower, but heavier, each one saying what words couldn’t.

"I love you," she breathed against his mouth.

His breath shuddered out of him as he whispered it back, his voice rough, "I love you more."

He didn’t give her time to argue. He kissed her again, slow and thorough, his lips dragging over hers like he had all the time in the world. And he did. This was their time. For once, there was no war waiting for them. No portals. No shadows in the dark.

Only them.

When his hands found the hem of her robe, he paused, his dark eyes searching hers for permission. She answered with a nod, her hands guiding his. She was warm under his fingers, softer than he ever imagined someone like him deserved. But she was here. She chose him.

And he intended to worship every inch of her.

They moved together toward the bed, stumbling a little as they laughed into each other’s mouths. His hands never left her skin, slow and reverent, memorizing the shape of her hips, the delicate curve of her spine. Her fingers were in his hair, tangling as she pulled him closer.

They lay down tangled in sheets and shadows. His touch was patient. His hands wondering around her body, finding a sensitive spot that made her arch forward and whine.

“You’re sensitive.” Jinwoo mumbled against her neck, trailing kisses down to her collar bone. His mouth moving down, his tongue licking the space between her breasts. “Only for me.”

He brought his large hands to her breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of her soft moans.

“Jinwoo.” Y/N whispered. She reached up, threading her fingers through his hair without thinking.

He chuckled and brought his lips to her nipple, his dark hair, tousled and soft, brushed her bare skin with every movement.

He stilled for just a second, and then sighed against her skin, the sound so content and low it made her chest ache.

“I love your hair,” she whispered between moans, running her fingers through it again, slow and gentle. She let her nails graze lightly over his scalp, and Jinwoo’s entire body shivered, just faintly. “It’s so soft.”

“You do?” he murmured, lips brushing over the hollow of her throat.

“Mm, it calms you,” she said with a small smile. “And I like when you melt.”

He chuckled softly, the vibration of it sinking into her skin. “I don’t melt.”

“You do,” she insisted, dragging her nails lightly again. He exhaled a deep, shaky breath, pressing a kiss over her heart.

Jinwoo looked at her with mixture or awe and hunger – a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to her entrance, smiling when he felt how wet she was.

“How about I make you melt this time?”

Y/N nodded “Mmm’, yes please. I need you, Jinwoo.” She whined feeling him circle her entrance.

Jinwoo didn’t make her wait as he plugged his fingers in. Her back arched as she gasped, spreading her legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against her walls.

Still Y/N wanted more.

“Please, Jinwoo.” She whimpered.

Her body whined when Jinwoo stopped and pulled his fingers out.

“What is it, my wife? Tell me what you want.” his voice purred, he brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over her sweetness.

“You,” Her lip quivered as she shuddered from the cool air of the room. “Please, Jinwoo.” As her hands held him.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his pants, stroking lightly. She swallowed at the sight wondering how she could ever take them.

Jinwoo lined his tip against her entrance, soaking himself in her juices and teasing her a little.

“Are you ready, my wife? I will take it slow so you will feel everything.” He whispered a for the first time tonight she heard his voice start to shake.

Y/N bit her lip as she nodded. “Yes, I’m all yours.”

Jinwoo slowly slid himself in as she let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside her both let out a gasp; they both waited so long for this moment. Y/N wrapped her arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck while she got used to the feeling of all inside.

He waited for her to nod and give him the signal to continue. He planted a kiss on her cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. Y/N spread her legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. She grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

He slowly begins with a slow and steady thrusts. She feels hot around him, her walls sliding up and down his shaft, her canal moist and inviting as he goes back and forth. Her walls are tight around him, making Jinwoo grunt lowly as he places kisses on whatever part of her body he can reach. He drives his cock into her, making her breath hitch, every now and then, her body meeting his thrust, trying to make him go faster.

“Just like that, Y/N”. Jinwoo kept his eyes on Y/N as he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Uhhh – “ Y/N grunts, her eyes squeezed tightly, her legs are shaky,

He thrusted again, harder and faster as he felt her pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace.

“Ohh, Jinwoo!” Y/N moaned, making him shiver.

“You like that, my wife?” Jinwoo asks, thrusting in a little harder, his cock coming almost completely out of her and then ramming back inside her.

“YES –!” Y/N hisses sharply. She looked at Jinwoo, meeting his penetrating eyes. ‘Harder” eyes beg, and he goes harder. “Ohh, Fu – “, she cries, out in a yell, eyes shutting again, her legs trying their hardest not to close.

“How’s that feel, my wife?” Jinwoo asked again, when his hand on her neck moves to her breast, cupping it, his palm grinding against her nipple.

She grasped and scratched at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through her while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

They’re caught somewhere between a purr and a growl, both soft and hungry, needy.

“Hold on.” His voice was quiet whimper while Y/N held him.

Hearing him whimper always sent her feral but she did her best to keep still while Jinwoo pounded into her tight cunt. Her back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm.

“You feel so good. I love you, Y/N” Jinwoo whispered in her ears while panting, sucking the lobe into his hot mouth. Y/N walls tighten around Jinwoo as he does this and he pushes his hips a little harder. He suck on her ear, his lips and teeth pulling on it, making her moan loudly. He grunt loudly in her ear, “Arrghhh, Y/N” sound filing her ear. He moves one of his hand on top of her, lacing their fingers together, He can feel her shallow breaths, hear he pants. Her hips rolling back against him, his rock pushing in and out, making her croon.

Y/N knew he was close, and she wrapped her legs around him not letting him go.

“I’m, I’m – so close,” she whispers, voice dripping with arousal.

Jinwoo grins against her ear, “I know,” he rasps, pushing harder. He moves into her slowly, but hard, making her grunt and gasp at the same time.

Y/N’s heart is racing, her body on the edge, being thrust a little more each time. “Jinwoo!” she moans loudly, his name coming out with a deep, throaty groan. “Jinwoo,” she whimpers, breathy.

“I’m right here, my love,” Jinwoo tells her, grunting into her ear, squeezing her hand tightly. His pace picks up again, his cock penetrating her.

“Come for me, my wife.” Jinwoo whisper in her ear, his words barely being understood through his deep grunts.

“Yes” Y/N whimpers.

“My wife,” he says again, tasting it like something forbidden and precious at the same time.

Every time he calls her that, her breath hitches, and he feels her heart race beneath his touch. It makes him want more. Makes him need more. Because he’s waited—waited so long, fought through worlds, sacrificed everything—and in the end, she chose him. She stayed.

Jinwoo’s close, his hips working faster and faster, their bodies molding together against the bed.

“Mmmmm – “ Y/N hums again from her throat. She can feel the rush of blood in her body, the scorching heat flowing through her. She hears Jinwoo’s loud grunts in her ear, feels him jerking quickly, and then there’s a rush of hot fluids pushing into her, the delicious feeling throwing her right over the edge. “Jinwoo,” is the last word to come out from her mouth before she’s spiraling, falling into a blissful place of ecstasy.

“My wife,” he says again, voice rough against her skin. “Mine.”

Jinwoo’s arms held her tightly to him as she were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of their bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed.

“I love you, Y/N” his voice was a husky whisper as he pressed a soft yet deep kiss against her lips.

Her kisses were soft. They spoke quietly between kisses—sometimes teasing, sometimes serious. Promises made. Futures dreamed. It was messy and tender, clumsy and perfect.

He traced the line of her collarbone with his lips. She pressed her hand over his heart, feeling it race under her palm. They were both breathing hard but smiling. Always smiling.

Afterward, they stayed wrapped up in each other, her head on his chest, his hand drawing lazy circles on her shoulder.

"You’re shaking," she teased softly.

He huffed a laugh. "I’m trying not to pass out."

Y/N laughed too, pressing a kiss over his heart. "We’ve fought dragons and Monarchs. But this is what knocks you out?"

Jinwoo smiled, sleepy but happy. "You’re a different kind of dangerous."

She rolled her eyes but snuggled closer. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

"It was."

And they drifted to sleep like that, tangled together, their breathing slow and steady. Safe. Home.

Y/N had always suspected Jinwoo had an unfair advantage.

He was a Monarch. The Shadow Monarch. He could fight for days without rest, command legions with a thought, and tear through entire battlefields without so much as breaking a sweat.

But nothing—nothing—had prepared her for what that meant on their wedding night.

It had started gentle, slow and sweet. Reverent. Worshipful.

But now, hours later, she was pretty sure her legs no longer worked properly.

She lay sprawled across their bed, the sheets twisted, her hair an absolute mess, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Jinwoo hovered over her, dark hair falling in his eyes, his smile that rare, devastatingly soft one he reserved only for her.

And he was still looking at her like he was starving.

“Jinwoo,” she managed, her voice hoarse and breathless, “I… I think I need a break.”

He tilted his head at her, amused. “A break?” His fingers traced a lazy path along her collarbone, down to the curve of her waist. “I thought you said you could handle anything.”

“I was… clearly overestimating myself,” she groaned, flopping her arm over her face. “I’m not built like you, okay? You have a cheat code. You can regenerate stamina like a machine.”

He chuckled. A deep, low sound that made her toes curl, even now. “That’s true,” he agreed shamelessly. “But you don’t hear me complaining.”

Y/N cracked one eye open to glare at him. “Complaining?! Because you’re not the one who’s going to die from this.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss her forehead, then her temple, then the shell of her ear. “I’m taking it easy on you.”

“Taking easy???! You are not,” she huffed, but the way her body shivered under his lips betrayed her.

“Hmm.” He nipped gently at her earlobe, and she bit her lip hard to keep from making a sound. “Then maybe I should slow down.”

Her heart jumped into her throat as he kissed his way down the column of her throat, his hand sliding down her hip again, fingers warm and possessive. She squirmed, but there was no escaping his hands. Not that she really wanted to.

“I… I need water,” she tried again, weakly.

His grin was wicked this time. “I’ll get you water after this round.”

“Jinwoo—!”

But he was already moving, catching her wrist and bringing her hand to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to her palm, his eyes dark and full of a heat that made her stomach flip. "You’re glowing," he murmured, tracing her wrist with his thumb. “I could look at you forever.”

“You are looking,” she gasped as he leaned back over her, their noses brushing. “Nonstop. For hours.”

“And I’m not even close to done,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers in a maddening tease. “You’re my wife now. I have the rest of forever.”

Y/N groaned again, sinking into the sheets as he kissed her thoroughly, slow and deep, stealing the last of her energy. She dragged her nails over his shoulder weakly. “You’re relentless.”

“You love it,” he said with a grin against her mouth.

“I might not survive it,” she breathed.

He chuckled again, low and warm. “You’re stronger than you think.”

She didn’t answer this time—mostly because she was too busy kissing him back, even if her body felt like jelly and her legs were about to mutiny. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. He touched her like she was something precious, even when his control frayed. Every kiss, every whispered promise made her fall harder.

And even as she gasped his name again, even as she clung to him and lost count of how many times he stole her breath, one thing was very, very clear.

“Jinwoo… Wait – Noooo! Let me – ”

....

“JINWOO! YEEEESSSS!!”

Jinwoo could outlast anything.

<< Chapter 16 | Chapter 18 >>

She lay stiff as a board, eyes wide, as Jinwoo's face nuzzled dangerously close to hers. His breath was warm against her cheek, sometimes brushing down the line of her neck. And every time she thought he was loosening his hold, his arms would tighten again, pulling her flush against his chest.

“...This is illegal,” Y/N muttered under her breath for the fiftieth time.

His face was so close. Too close. She could see his stupid, perfect lashes. His lips were parted slightly, soft and relaxed in sleep, as if he hadn’t just fought a primordial monstrosity the day before. And his skin? Smooth and warm. Unfair.

Y/N sighed in defeat. “…Why are you like this,” she whispered.

She gave up trying to wiggle free hours ago. Now, resigned to her fate, she simply watched him sleep, tracing every handsome feature with her eyes, because what else was she supposed to do?

But then—his eyelashes fluttered.

Y/N froze. Oh no.

Jinwoo blinked groggily, adjusting his head on the pillow… and found her staring at him. Eyes wide. Face red. Completely busted.

“…Good morning,” he rumbled, voice deep and rough with sleep. His gaze softened, and one corner of his mouth tugged into a sleepy smirk. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“I—NO—!” Y/N almost choked, smacking his arm before realizing she was still trapped. “You were—clinging! Like a—leech!”

He chuckled. “A warm leech.”

“Jinwoo!”

But he just leaned in closer, resting his forehead against hers, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “You should’ve kissed me awake. Would’ve made my morning better.”

Her brain short-circuited.

“W-WHY WOULD I—” “I’m joking,” he murmured, but he clearly wasn’t. His dark eyes gleamed with affection, and her heart practically did somersaults.

He kissed her cheek suddenly, making her yelp. “Thanks for not kicking me out.”

The morning continued normally—or so Y/N thought.

They sat at breakfast with Jinwoo’s family. His mom hummed, sipping tea; Jinah was scrolling through her phone but kept glancing up at them. Jinwoo, ever casual, munched on toast before speaking.

“Let’s go out later,” he said to Y/N. “There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

Y/N blinked. “Ah, sure. Is it… a mission?”

Jinah and their mom suddenly exchanged a look across the table. It was like a flash of telepathic lightning.

“Nope,” Jinwoo answered calmly, not even noticing the silent conversation. “Just us.”

Y/N tilted her head. “O-Okay…”

When Jinwoo stood to take a shower, humming to himself, she relaxed.

Big mistake.

The moment the bathroom door closed, Jinah and her mom moved. Fast.

“Got her!” Jinah whispered like a SWAT team member. “Move, move, move!”

“Eh?! WAIT—!” Y/N yelped as they each grabbed an arm, lifting her from the chair like a petty criminal being dragged to interrogation.

“What is happening?!” Y/N squawked.

“Makeover,” Jinah declared.

“You’re going on a date,” their mom smiled sweetly.

“But—but I don’t have any date clothes!” Y/N panicked.

“We know,” Jinah said darkly. “That’s why we’re here.”

Before she could protest more, they had her in Jinah’s room, clothes flying everywhere. Cute blouses. Skirts. Shoes. Bags. At one point, she was holding up a lacy white top like it was a cursed relic.

“This is too much!” Y/N wailed.

“Luh, lies,” Jinah smirked, already curling her hair. “You’re totally excited.”

“AM NOT!”

Jinah raised a brow. “You’ve been singing love songs under your breath all morning.”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE—!”

Their mom patted her head. “Don’t worry. We’ll make you look stunning. Jinwoo’s brain is strong, but his heart’s weak for you.”

Y/N hid her face in her hands. I’m not ready! I’m not ready!

Meanwhile, Jinwoo, in the shower, had no idea his family was secretly helping his clueless girlfriend prepare for their first official date.

After Jinwoo casually held out his hand for her outside the apartment (which totally didn’t make her heart explode), they made their way to the city’s fanciest cinema.

Y/N didn’t even realize how nervous she was until they stood in front of the giant display of movie posters.

Jinwoo stood patiently beside her, waiting for her to decide. “What do you want to watch?” he asked, calm as ever.

Y/N stared at the screen like it was a life-or-death choice. “U-uhm…”

Action movies? Too violent. Horror? She didn’t want to accidentally scream and embarrass herself. Romance? TOO OBVIOUS.

But before she could stop herself, her finger pointed to the colorful poster of a Romantic Comedy. Two leads running in the rain, hearts everywhere, cheesy tagline: “Love Can’t Wait!”

“Ah,” Jinwoo said simply. “Okay.”

She panicked again. “W-wait! You don’t have to—!”

But Jinwoo was already buying tickets, not even blinking. “Romcom it is.”

Y/N had expected the movie to be cringe. Maybe she could hide behind the popcorn and survive.

But to her shock… it was fun! She ended up laughing—a lot. The two ridiculous main characters kept getting into stupid misunderstandings, the second-lead syndrome was REAL, and Y/N found herself gasping at all the over-the-top plot twists.

Halfway through, she was giggling, leaning forward in her seat, completely absorbed.

Jinwoo wasn’t even watching the screen anymore.

He was watching her. The way her eyes lit up at every cute moment. The way she covered her mouth when she laughed too hard. He smiled softly, shaking his head. She’s so easy to please.

Y/N slapped Jinwoo’s arm as she cackled.

“Oh my god—Did you see that?! The dogs are running slower than the humans!!”

Jinwoo chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’re really enjoying this, huh?”

Y/N grinned, eyes still glued to the screen. “I mean, look at this masterpiece! It’s so bad, it’s good!”

Jinwoo just watched her.

Not the movie.

Her.

The popcorn was almost gone when Y/N reached over, not even looking, to grab another handful.

She couldn’t stop laughing, and without even thinking, she reached out for some popcorn.

Except—

She didn’t look.

Her eyes were still glued to the screen as she mindlessly felt around.

But instead of hitting the popcorn bucket—

Her hand landed somewhere else.

Somewhere solid.

Somewhere warm.

Somewhere that was very much not popcorn.

Somewhere very very wrong.

Y/N frowned.

Huh?

Why did the popcorn feel so… firm?

She squeezed it once.

And then—

She heard Jinwoo inhale sharply.

Y/N froze.

The screen faded to black.

The theater lights came to life.

And that’s when she saw it.

Her hand.

Firmly.

Gripping Jinwoo’s thigh.

Her hand was on Jinwoo’s thigh.

Very high up on Jinwoo’s thigh.

Y/N’s soul left her body.

Jinwoo stared at her, his face completely unreadable.

Y/N stared back, her entire existence crumbling.

For a long second, neither of them spoke.

“...HIC.”

A tiny, panicked hiccup escaped her throat.

The people around them started getting up, stretching, chatting.

Meanwhile, Y/N was still sitting there—hand still on Jinwoo—completely frozen.

And then—

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow.

“…Comfortable?”

She squeaked, yanking her hand back so fast she nearly slapped herself in the face.

“I—I was going for the popcorn!!” she blurted. “I swear!!”

Jinwoo snorted. “You thought the popcorn was on my lap?”

There was a long, awkward pause as they both sat there, stiff as statues.

“…Hic.”

Y/N hiccupped again. Her face was redder than a tomato. She covered it with both hands and groaned into them. “WELL—WELL, WHERE ELSE WOULD IT BE?!”

Jinwoo casually picked up the popcorn bucket.

From the seat between them.

Y/N’s soul left for a second time.

“…Oh.”

But before she could run away in embarrassment—

Jinwoo grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

Still smirking, he leaned in slightly, voice low and amused.

“Just so you know…”

Y/N gulped. “W-What?”

Jinwoo’s eyes gleamed.

“If you wanted to touch me that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Y/N let out a high-pitched scream and yanked her wrist away, speed-walking out of the theater as fast as humanly possible.

Jinwoo just laughed, following behind her at a leisurely pace.

Y/N speed-walked like her life depended on it.

Her brain was still rebooting after what had just happened.

But then—

A warm hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

“Come on,” he said, guiding her towards the busy street of restaurants and arcades. “We still have time.”

After weaving through the crowd, Jinwoo finally stopped in front of a small café tucked between tall buildings. It had a cute sign with pastel letters: “Sugar Haven.”

Y/N peeked out from behind his arm, her eyes twinkled.

The café was warm and inviting, filled with the relaxing aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries.

A large display case showcased beautiful desserts—cakes, macarons, cookies, and tarts, all arranged like little pieces of edible art.

Y/N practically lit up.

Jinwoo smirked.

He knew it.

He knew she liked this kind of stuff.

And sure enough—

Y/N immediately let go of his arm and rushed to the display case, pressing her hands against the glass like a kid in a candy store.

“Oh my god,” she whispered in awe. “Everything looks so good….”

Jinwoo watched her fondly.

This was exactly why he brought her here.

Because if there was one thing that could fluster Y/N more than him—

It was sweets.

He casually walked up beside her.

“So,” he said, leaning in slightly. “What do you want?”

Y/N, still entranced by the desserts, didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

Jinwoo chuckled. “That’s not an answer.”

Y/N finally turned to him, dead serious.

“I want everything.”

Jinwoo laughed.

“Then,” he said, pulling out his wallet, “let’s get everything you want.”

Y/N gasped.

“Jinwoo,” she said, eyes wide. “Are you—Are you sugar daddy-ing me right now?”

Jinwoo choked on air.

“What?! No—”

“It’s too late!” Y/N dramatically clutched her chest. “I’m accepting my fate as a spoiled woman!”

Jinwoo groaned, rubbing his temples.

This woman was going to kill him.

After the café (and the photo-before-eating debate, which Jinwoo lost), he led Y/N down a street glowing with neon signs. Music and laughter spilled out from an old-school arcade.

Y/N tilted her head. “An arcade?” Jinwoo nodded like it was the most obvious next step on their itinerary. “You like games,” he said. “Let’s win something.”

Y/N squinted suspiciously. “…What are you planning?”

He didn’t answer. He just swiped his card at the claw machine and stared at it like it had personally insulted him.

The first round? Jinwoo studied the joystick like it was an enemy. He moved it with pinpoint precision, eyes narrowed in concentration as if planning a battlefield strategy.

The claw dropped. It missed. By a mile.

Y/N snorted behind her hand. Jinwoo’s jaw tightened. Round two? Same failure. Round three? Still missed.

Y/N was biting her lip, trying not to laugh. “Maybe it’s rigged?” she offered, not very helpfully.

Jinwoo didn’t even blink. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, voice flat. “What matters is winning.”

Cue ominous shadow ripples.

Behind Jinwoo, tiny shadows started sneaking out from under his coat. Beru was the first, his bug-eyes gleaming with purpose. He gave a tiny salute before zip-lining up the machine.

Igris followed, adjusting his helmet as if preparing for a duel. Even Tank waddled over, somehow squeezing his massive self behind the claw machine with comical stealth (except his spiky butt was definitely sticking out).

Y/N watched all of this happening in plain sight, eyes wide. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “They’re helping him cheat.”

It didn’t stop there. Every machine they walked past, Jinwoo dominated.

They finally reached the Dance Dance Revolution machine.

Jinwoo stepped up like he was about to slay a raid boss, rolling his neck and stretching his hands with grim determination.

Y/N crossed her arms. “You’re gonna cheat again, aren’t you?”

Jinwoo’s expression didn’t change. “No.”

“…Really?”

“…They will.”

She followed his gaze.

Behind the machine, Beru and Igris were already in position. Tiny hands hovered over the back panel’s extra buttons, ready to assist. Tank was also there, his enormous head peeking out with what might’ve been excitement… or confusion.

Y/N groaned and rubbed her temples. “You guys are the worst…”

The music started. It was intense. Fast beats, flashing lights. Jinwoo’s feet moved in flawless rhythm, landing each step like a machine.

But then—

THUMP.

A huge, shadowy paw pressed delicately on one of the arrows.

Y/N blinked. “…Wait.”

She turned her head sloooowly.

Fenrir was crouched behind the machine. Massive. Menacing. Dead serious.

And there he was—casually, lowkey booping the side buttons with one giant paw, like this was the most important mission of his life.

His crimson eyes were laser-focused. Absolute concentration.

The Primordial Hunger…

The Great Devourer of Worlds… Helping his King win at Dance Dance Revolution.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “FENRIR?!”

The massive wolf didn’t even flinch. He gave a slow, solemn blink as if to say, “This is the way.”

THUMP. Another paw press. PERFECT COMBO.

Y/N just stood there, staring, mouth open in shock.

Jinwoo glanced at her between steps, mildly curious. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed, sputtering. “Y-You’ve got Fenrir helping you cheat now!”

Jinwoo didn’t miss a beat. He stomped left, stepped right, and shrugged. “He’s part of the team.”

Y/N made a strangled noise. “You’ve got the Primordial Hunger stomping on DDR buttons like it’s life and death!!”

Jinwoo, still moving flawlessly, gave the faintest grin. “He’s very dedicated.”

And he was. Fenrir’s tail was swishing in slow, serious wags. Every time the music sped up, he matched it with an elegant paw press. At one point, he even growled softly in rhythm.

Y/N clutched her head. Beru, beside Fenrir, gave her a thumbs-up. 「 Our Queen must witness our King's unstoppable power! 」

The song ended. Jinwoo hit a perfect score. “NEW RECORD,” the machine announced in bright letters.

Y/N threw her hands up. “YOU CHEATED!”

Jinwoo finally looked at her directly. “I won.”

Behind him, Fenrir solemnly licked his paw, like this wasn’t completely ridiculous. Beru was doing a victory dance, and Igris crossed his arms in approval.

Y/N just sighed and let herself laugh. “This is so dumb,” she muttered, wiping her eyes. “But you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.”

Jinwoo cocked his head. “Was that a compliment?”

“…No.” (Yes.)

As they left the machine, Fenrir lowkey glanced at Y/N. For a split second, he puffed up his chest, as if expecting praise.

Y/N blinked. “…Good boy?” she said uncertainly.

Fenrir’s tail wagged once. Then he went back to stalking behind them like a terrifying shadow beast. Totally casual.

Jinwoo hid his grin. Then—without warning—he suddenly crouched low. Y/N blinked. “What are you—”

And jumped. Straight into the air like gravity was just a mild suggestion.

“JINWOO?!” Y/N yelped, stumbling back to look up. Then a massive gust of wind nearly knocked her over.

KAISEL appeared, scales gleaming like obsidian and emerald fire, wings spread wide as he swooped down from the sky.

Jinwoo landed smoothly on Kaisel’s back like he did this every day (which, to be fair, he probably did). He turned and casually offered his hand to Y/N.

“Coming?” he said like he was inviting her to coffee, not a dragon ride.

Y/N’s brain short-circuited for a moment. “Wha—but—I’m not—!” But Jinwoo didn’t wait. He just pulled her up effortlessly, settling her right in front of him on Kaisel’s saddle.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

And then they were soaring.

She peeked down—and instantly regretted it. The ground was gone. Absolutely nowhere in sight.

She was about to start panicking again when she glanced at the horizon—

—and her breath caught.

The sky stretched endlessly, painted in breathtaking hues of gold and violet. Below them, mountains rolled like waves, their peaks dusted in glittering snow. The air was crisp, cold, exhilarating.

Y/N slowly, slowly relaxed.

Her grip loosened. Her heartbeat steadied.

Her eyes widened.

“…Jinwoo.” She turned to him, grinning. “This is amazing.”

Jinwoo smiled, watching her soften in awe. “I thought you’d like it.”

Y/N didn’t just like it. She loved it.

And when her excitement overpowered her caution, she let go of Jinwoo completely, throwing her arms wide as the wind rushed past her.

Jinwoo’s panic was immediate.

“Y/N—!”

“I CAN SHOW YOU THE WOOOOOORLD—”

Jinwoo blinked. “Wait, what—”

“SHINING, SHIMMERING, SPLENDIIIIID—”

Jinwoo stared.

He…had no idea how to process this.

“Y/N,” he started, half-amused, half-horrified. “What are you—”

“TELL ME, JINWOO, NOW WHEN DID YOU LAST LET YOUR HEART DECIIIIIDE—”

The dragon snorted.

Jinwoo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/N, please.”

And then—before Y/N could hit the chorus—Jinwoo grabbed her waist and yanked her back against him.

She yelped, suddenly caged in by his arms.

And ahead— A castle. Perched atop a mountain like something out of a fantasy movie. Tall towers, sweeping balconies, and stained glass windows that caught the light of the setting sun.

Kaisel let out a low, rumbling growl that was probably his version of a happy sigh as he circled once before descending to one of the wide balconies.

Jinwoo hopped down first, landing lightly. He turned, offering his hand again, this time much softer. Y/N took it without thinking.

The moment her feet hit the marble floor, she realized where they were. This was not just a castle. This was Jinwoo’s personal domain. Shadow architecture. It felt old and new at the same time—beautiful and terrifying. But then—

She turned. And the view stole her breath.

The sun was just hitting the horizon, spilling gold and rose colors across the sky. The clouds stretched out like an endless ocean of light. The wind was gentle here. Everything was still.

“…Whoa,” Y/N breathed. He watched her instead of the sunset.

Jinwoo’s shadows had discovered this place days ago, and today, he had brought Y/N here—not as a hunter, not as a monarch, but simply as a man who wanted to spend time with the woman he loved.

“It’s beautiful…” Y/N murmured, standing beside him on the castle’s open balcony. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting golden light over the stone walls. The sight was breathtaking, but the warmth of Jinwoo’s presence beside her made her heart race even more.

Jinwoo turned to her, his dark eyes soft. “Not as beautiful as you.”

Y/N nearly choked on air. Oh God, not now, not here. She was already struggling to keep her fangirl tendencies in check, but Jinwoo was making it impossible. Did he have to say things like that so casually? As if he wasn’t the strongest hunter in existence? As if he wasn’t the Sung Jinwoo, the man she had adored long before she ever set foot in this world?

“Y-You’re getting better at flirting,” she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady.

Jinwoo chuckled, his fingers brushing against hers. “You say that like I don’t mean every word.”

Oh no. Oh no no no. Y/N felt her entire body heat up. Her mind was already running wild, screaming all sorts of things she should not be thinking about right now. Stay calm. Stay normal. Do NOT let the delulu take over—

“Let’s stay the night,” Jinwoo suddenly said, cutting through her internal crisis.

She blinked. “H-Huh?”

“There’s a bedroom in the east wing. It’s still intact,” he said, tilting his head toward the darkened halls. “No point in going back so soon. Unless… you don’t want to?”

Her brain short-circuited. Stay the night? In an ancient, abandoned castle? With him? Jinwoo, the man she simped for daily, wanted to spend the night together?!

“N-No, I mean, yeah! I’m fine! Totally fine! Haha…ha…”

But then… He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer. Y/N stiffened for a second, but… It was warm. Safe.

“…Thank you,” she whispered. “For what?”

“For today.” Her voice was soft. “For… everything.”

Jinwoo was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned in, just a little, his lips close to her ear. “I’m just getting started,” he said.

Y/N made a squeaky noise and bonked her forehead against the railing to cool off. Jinwoo chuckled again and rested his chin lightly on her shoulder.

The bedroom was grand, as if untouched by time itself. A massive canopy bed stood at the center, draped in dark velvet. A fireplace crackled, casting flickering shadows across the room. It was warm, inviting… and way too romantic for her sanity.

Y/N sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, mentally fighting for her life. She was delusional on a normal day, but this—this was actual torture.

Jinwoo, of course, was perfectly relaxed. He leaned against the headboard, watching her with that calm, unreadable gaze. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m always weird,” she shot back quickly, avoiding his eyes.

He smirked. “True. But you’re even weirder now.”

Before she could respond, he reached out, gently pulling her toward him. Y/N yelped as she stumbled into his chest, his warmth immediately surrounding her.

Her face burned. Abort. Abort mission.

“I-I should sleep on the floor,” she blurted out. “Yeah. That’s a great idea. Very chivalrous—”

Jinwoo tightened his hold, caging her against him. “No.”

“No?”

“You’re staying here. With me.”

Her heartbeat was out of control. “B-But—”

Jinwoo exhaled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Y/N.” His voice was impossibly tender. “I would never hurt you.”

She stiffened.

“I just…” His hand slid to her waist, firm yet gentle. “I want to show you how much I love you. How much I want you.”

Y/N let out a strangled noise, immediately covering her face with her hands. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every reaction.

Jinwoo chuckled, prying her hands away. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

“I—I’m not hiding,” she lied.

He smiled, leaning closer, his breath warm against her skin. “Then look at me.”

Y/N hesitated before slowly meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense—filled with nothing but love and undeniable desire.

Her breath hitched.

“Trust me,” Jinwoo whispered.

And then he kissed her.

Jinwoo’s lips brushed against hers, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. Y/N barely had time to process before his arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer.

Her heart was a mess.

The warmth of his body, the way his fingers traced lazy patterns on her waist—it was too much. She felt like she was drowning, not in fear, but in something far more overwhelming.

When he pulled away, Y/N was gasping for breath.

Jinwoo chuckled, his lips hovering just above hers. “You’re trembling.”

“N-No, I’m not,” she lied, trying to sound normal.

He hummed, obviously amused. “Liar.”

His hands roamed up her back, slow and teasing, pressing her flush against him. Y/N swore she could hear her soul leaving her body. How was he so good at this? How was she supposed to survive when he was looking at her like that?

Jinwoo leaned in, his lips ghosting over her ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Y/N whimpered.

“Every time you blush because of me…” He kissed the corner of her mouth, then trailed lower, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath her jaw. “Every time you look away when I catch you staring…”

His voice was deep, velvety, dripping with affection and something more dangerous.

“I love seeing you flustered.” Another kiss, this time at the sensitive spot below her ear. “But I love it even more when you let yourself fall apart for me.”

Y/N was going to explode.

“I-I’m not falling apart,” she stammered weakly.

Jinwoo chuckled, his lips tracing a slow path down her neck. “No?”

She definitely let out a sound she would deny later.

Jinwoo smirked against her skin. “Then why are you clinging to me so desperately?”

Y/N immediately tried to push away, but he caught her wrists with ease, pinning them gently above her head as he hovered over her.

His dark eyes burned into hers. “Stay.”

Y/N swallowed. “J-Jinwoo—”

“You’re so shy,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her wrist. “So adorable.”

She felt the heat crawling up her neck, spreading through her entire body.

Jinwoo’s gaze softened, though the intensity in his eyes never faded. “I love you, Y/N.” His fingers laced with hers, holding her in place. “I’ve loved you from the moment you came into my life. And I want you—only you.”

Her breath hitched.

“I want you to trust me,” he whispered. “To let me love you the way you deserve.”

The warmth of his words melted something deep inside her, making her body ache in ways she couldn’t describe.

Jinwoo leaned down, his lips brushing against hers once more. “Let me make you mine.”

And this time, when he kissed her, Y/N didn’t hold back.

Y/N didn't resist this time.

She couldn't.

Not when Jinwoo was looking at her like that, not when his touch sent fire coursing through her veins, making her head spin.

She felt weightless in his arms—like she belonged there, like she had always belonged there.

Jinwoo deepened the kiss, slow and intoxicating, as if he had all the time in the world to devour her. His fingers traced up her arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before slipping behind her neck, tilting her head to his liking.

Her mind was foggy.

Everything about him—the way he held her, the heat radiating from his body, the way his lips moved against hers so perfectly—made her dizzy.

This is it, she thought. This is how I die. I’m going to spontaneously combust. Her heart was thudding so hard she was sure he could hear it. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt as if he was the only thing grounding her to reality.

But then—

Jinwoo suddenly… pulled back. Just an inch. His dark eyes stared down at her, intense but unreadable.

And slowly—deliberately—he took a step away. Y/N blinked, dazed. Her brain was still lagging behind, stuck in kiss mode. She swayed slightly.

“Wait… huh?” she mumbled.

He let go of her waist gently, his hands slipping from her as if he was being careful not to startle her. Then… he reached into his pocket.

Y/N froze. Oh my God. This is it. Her entire body tensed. He’s… he’s going to… undress?! Her eyes widened in panic. Oh my GOD I’M NOT READY!

But instead— He pulled out a small velvet box.

Y/N stared. “…Wait.”

Jinwoo dropped to one knee.

“…Wait, what?!”

He opened the box smoothly, revealing a simple yet elegant silver ring. The sunset’s glow caught the delicate engraving on it—runic patterns that softly shimmered. “Y/N,” Jinwoo said, his voice lower and softer than she’d ever heard it. “I told you before… I want you to be mine.”

Her jaw dropped. She felt like her soul left her body for the third time today.

She had been preparing for something—else. She thought— She thought he meant— “Oh my GOD,” she croaked. “You meant marry me?!”

Jinwoo blinked. “...What else would I mean?”

Y/N made a noise. A sound. Some kind of half-choked squeak that didn’t belong to human language. Her brain was melting out of her ears. “I—” she flailed, arms waving. “You—you kissed me like—you were—oh my God—I thought we were gonna—”

Jinwoo tilted his head, clearly confused. “Gonna what?”

Her hands slapped over her face. “NOTHING!! NEVERMIND!!”

Jinwoo’s lips twitched. And then, because he was evil, he leaned forward just a little, still kneeling, still holding the ring. “You thought we were going to…?” His voice dropped an octave.

Y/N let out an embarrassed shriek and turned in a full circle, her arms flailing like she was trying to physically fan herself. “NO-NOTHINGG!” I’m dying I’m dying I’m dying, her brain screamed. DIGNITY? DEAD. SOUL? GONE.

Jinwoo, completely calm, waited patiently with the ring in hand. When she finally, finally turned back to face him—still red as a tomato—he gave her the smallest, softest smile.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?” Like he hadn’t just sent her spiraling into humiliation.

Y/N opened her mouth. No sound came out. She was pretty sure Kaisel was watching from a tower window and Beru was somewhere behind a pillar holding up a 「 SAY YES 」 sign.

Finally, she slapped both hands over her burning face and muttered through her fingers, “…Yes.”

Jinwoo slipped the ring onto her finger with a reverence that made her stomach flip all over again. Then he stood and, without a word, pulled her into a hug. Her face squished against his chest, still red, still hiding. “You’re mine,” he said simply.

And Y/N, muffled against his shirt, groaned, “I thought I was gonna lose my virginity, not my last name.”

“…What?”

“I SAID NOTHING!”

<< Chapter 15 | Chapter 17 >>

Each step he took forward made the shadows cling to him tighter. Even his shadows stirred uneasily under his command, shivering in the oppressive gloom. But he pressed on, his black cloak glinting faintly in the void, his eyes unwavering.

“Y/N,” he murmured, her name anchoring him to himself.

The first challenge rose from the fog like a memory he had tried to forget. Shapes—figures—stepped forward, familiar faces twisted by darkness. Hunters he couldn’t save. Enemies he’d destroyed. They whispered lies, dredged up guilt, clawed at his mind.

“You left her,” they hissed. “You chose power over her.” “You failed.”

Jinwoo didn’t flinch. He drew Kamish’s Wrath and cleaved through them, black flames burning the regrets into ash. “I’m coming for her,” he said, his voice steel and ice. “No one stops me.”

The abyss answered with silence—before the next challenge came.

A flood of beasts, fanged and monstrous, born from the Primordial Hunger itself, rushed him. Mouths filled with endless rows of teeth gnashed for his flesh. They devoured shadows, light, and life indiscriminately.

Jinwoo met them head-on. Igris and Beru fought at his side, their loyalty unwavering, but even they flickered in and out of existence as the devouring energy gnawed at their forms.

“Hold,” Jinwoo commanded, his voice echoing with Absolute Authority. Shadows hardened. Weapons struck. The beasts fell by the hundreds. Still, the miasma thickened, pressing on his lungs, his soul.

It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t stop.

His body burned with wounds that didn’t close fast enough. His strength, usually limitless, waned in this cursed domain. But every time his knees threatened to give, he thought of her.

Of Y/N. Of her smile, her laughter, her stubbornness. Of how she faded in his arms with a soft apology. Of how he promised to bring her home.

And so he walked. And so he fought.

Deeper. Farther.

Until finally, he came to it.

A clearing of stillness in the endless storm of darkness. An ancient space where the abyss dared not encroach too deeply.

And there, at its center, stood the Majestic Old Tree.

Even now, it was beautiful.

Jinwoo stood in front of the Majestic Old Tree, his breathing steady despite the burning in his chest. The battle scars that marred his body didn’t matter now. His focus was entirely on her. Encased in the crystalline amber at the heart of the tree, Y/N lay still—too still. But alive. He could feel it. The faintest pulse of life, of soul, deep within the sealed prison.

She had waited for him. And he had come.

He moved closer, slowly, as if one wrong step would shatter the moment. His hand, scarred and gauntleted, rested against the cool, glowing surface. The warmth he longed for was faint beneath it, but it was there. The smallest flicker of life. A spark.

For a long time, Jinwoo said nothing. He just stood there, head bowed, his hand splayed over the amber casing like he could shield her from the darkness even now. But something inside him stirred. A feeling. No—a certainty.

He sank to his knees without a word, still keeping his hand pressed firmly to the barrier. His forehead followed, resting against the cool surface. His eyes closed. His breathing deepened.

And then, slowly, he leaned in closer. Not with his warrior’s instincts. Not with the determination of a king. But like a man listening for the softest sound in the world.

Like a father, listening for a heartbeat.

He held his breath as his ear pressed gently to the amber, his other hand moving instinctively to where hers rested within the seal. His palm lined up with her smaller fingers as if bridging the impossible distance between them.

Jinwoo strained to hear something. Anything.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. But in that silence, he imagined it— A faint flutter. The echo of life growing, waiting, hoping. The life they had created together before the end.

His throat tightened painfully. Was it real? Was it only in his mind? He didn’t know. But his heart clenched in his chest, a feeling too big to contain.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m here… and you’re not alone.”

The light from the tree pulsed faintly, almost like an answer. And then again, stronger.

The amber softened beneath his touch, a warmth spreading outward like breath returning to frozen limbs. The pulse was not imagined—it was real. Two pulses. Hers… and another.

Jinwoo exhaled shakily, a tear slipping down his cheek before he realized it.

“You held on… even when I couldn’t feel you anymore,” he murmured. “Even when I wanted to destroy everything for taking you away.”

He smiled faintly, though it was a raw thing. “You didn’t let me.”

The amber cracked—thin veins of light spiderwebbing across its surface. Slowly. Carefully.

Jinwoo didn’t move. He just kept his forehead against hers through the barrier, eyes closed, whispering, “Come back to me… come back to us.”

Another pulse. The cracks deepened.

And finally, with a sound like ice thawing in spring, the amber began to dissolve. The tree bloomed fully, light spilling over them both in radiant waves.

Y/N’ fingers twitched where their hands aligned.

And Jinwoo, for a moment, couldn’t breathe.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open. Confused. Dazed. But there.

“Jin… woo…?” Her voice was raw, barely a breath.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his smile breaking through the weight of everything. “You took your time,” he whispered, his forehead pressing to hers again, this time skin to skin.

Y/N blinked, tears gathering as she realized. “I’m… alive?”

“We are,” Jinwoo murmured. His hand slipped protectively over her, just for a moment. “All of us.”

She followed his gaze and gasped softly, the realization dawning in her tired but luminous eyes.

He held her close, strong arms wrapping around her as she slowly emerged from the amber’s remains, his shadows gathering protectively like wings.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, sealing the moment in his heart.

And this time, he wasn’t letting go.

Y/N could barely comprehend the warmth surrounding her. The weight of Jinwoo’s arms anchoring her, the gentle brush of his breath against her temple, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat pounding in rhythm with hers. For so long, she had dreamed of this moment—of his voice, his touch—but now, it was real.

She shivered slightly, and he drew back just enough to see her face. His onyx eyes were dark with emotion, but there was something else… something raw and desperate. His hand lifted, brushing damp strands of hair from her cheek, lingering there as if he was terrified she’d disappear if he let go.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. “You’re really here.”

And then his lips found hers. Soft. Tentative. Like he was afraid of breaking her.

But she wasn’t fragile anymore. She kissed him back, her hand curling into the collar of his cloak as tears slipped down her cheeks. The taste of him, the warmth—him—it was overwhelming. Her fingers dug deeper as if she could pull him even closer, and his control snapped.

Jinwoo’s mouth moved hungrily over hers, the kiss deepening with a hunger that trembled in every part of him. His hands splayed over her back, his body pressing closer as if to imprint her into his very skin. His breathing was harsh, his desperation pouring into every movement.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream,” he muttered against her lips between kisses. “Tell me I’m not losing my mind again.”

“You’re not,” Y/N whispered shakily, holding his face between her hands now. “I’m here. I’m really here, Jinwoo.”

His forehead dropped against hers, his chest heaving. He kissed her again—softer this time, but lingering like he could breathe through her.

But then he pulled away. Just enough. His hands cradled her shoulders as he searched her face. That deep focus returned, the weight of his duty settling heavily on his features.

“You need to rest,” he said gently but firmly. “Gather your strength.”

Y/N blinked at him, her confusion turning to worry. “Jinwoo—”

“I need to finish this,” he said, his voice low but steady. “The Primordial Hunger is still here… its root buried in the depths of this abyss. I won’t leave it alive. Not after everything. Not when it can rise again.”

His words cut through her. His determination was ironclad. But so was his exhaustion. The weariness behind his gaze, masked so well by his strength, made her heart clench.

“You can’t,” she said, gripping his hands tightly. “Not alone. You’ve done enough—”

“I haven’t,” he interrupted, his grip tightening as well. His voice dropped, almost a growl, but there was no anger—only fierce love. “If I don’t end it, this will happen again. Maybe not to you, but to someone else. To everyone. And I won’t risk that.”

Y/N shook her head, tears prickling her eyes. “But you’ll die—!”

“Then I’ll die fighting,” Jinwoo said fiercely, his eyes burning as they held hers. “But I’m not leaving anything unfinished. Not after what it took to bring you back.”

She stared at him, seeing the absolute certainty there. No fear. No hesitation. Only a vow.

For a moment, she wanted to argue. To tell him he was being reckless. But something inside her shifted.

He had fought for her. Died for her. Crossed every hell imaginable to reach her.

How could she do any less?

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself. She wiped at her tears and looked at him with a strength that matched his own.

“Then we finish it together,” she said firmly.

Jinwoo’s eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn’t expected her to resolve so quickly. But then his expression softened into something deeply proud… and something deeply relieved.

His fingers laced through hers, squeezing once.

“Together,” he agreed.

She stood straighter, still leaning slightly against him as she regained her balance, but her grip on his hand never wavered. Jinwoo’s shadow pulsed around them like a living thing, his power already gathering for the final battle.

Y/N reached out, letting her energy synchronize with his. She could feel it now—their connection. Deeper than anything she had known before. She wasn’t just his partner in battle.

She was his equal. His other half.

As they turned toward the path that would lead them deeper into the abyss—where the Primordial Hunger awaited—Y/N cast one last glance over her shoulder at the majestic tree. At the place where she had waited… where she had endured.

And now, she would fight.

The abyss was suffocating, thick with miasma that clung to their skin and made every breath feel heavy. Jinwoo led the way, his steps steady and deliberate, shadows swirling protectively at their feet. His grip on her hand was firm—solid, grounding. He moved like a man on a mission, his black cloak gleaming faintly under the faint glimmer of corrupted light.

And Y/N was doing her very best not to implode.

Because… Wow. W O W. She could not believe this was happening.

Her lips still tingled from the kiss. Correction: kisses. Multiple. First soft… then desperate… then hungry. Like he wanted to consume her whole and didn’t care if there was an audience. Which, in fact, there was. The tree saw it! And probably the shadows! Oh God, Igris definitely saw it!

She nearly tripped but caught herself, pretending she’d just stepped over some uneven ground. Jinwoo didn’t notice—his predatory focus was dead ahead—but Y/N’ face was already burning.

He kissed me. Jinwoo kissed me. Like THAT.

Squealing erupted in her mind like a stampede of rabid fangirls at a limited edition merch sale.

Should I say something? Do I slap him? No, wait, I wanted it… but he didn’t even ask!

What the hell?! Since when is he so… so rude and sexy?! She had read about this kind of Jinwoo! At 2AM! Under her blanket! On her phone’s dimmest setting! Smut fanfics that definitely didn't have any right being that good!

But now she was living it?! Experiencing it firsthand? Reality had no business being better than fiction!

Y/N bit her lip, holding back the hysterical laughter bubbling up her throat. Her face was on fire, and she was seconds away from smacking herself in the head to snap out of it.

Pull it together, woman! You’re in an abyss! About to fight some primordial nightmare! Focus!

And yet, all she could think about was the way his hand had cradled her cheek, the low rumble of his voice when he whispered her name, and the utterly sinful way his lips felt on hers.

He was still holding her hand. Still walking beside her. Still totally unaware that her brain was currently short-circuiting.

Y/N inhaled sharply through her nose and squeezed his hand tighter. “Are you okay?” Jinwoo asked without looking, his voice smooth, calm—deadly serious.

“Nope,” she muttered under her breath. “What?” “Yup! Totally fine!” she corrected immediately, giving a nervous laugh.

Jinwoo shot her a brief, confused glance, then shrugged it off and returned to scanning the surroundings. His guard was up, his killing intent controlled but simmering just beneath the surface.

Y/N, on the other hand, was seconds away from combusting. This man is going to kill me, and it won’t be the monsters—it’ll be his damn handsome face. She puffed out her cheeks in frustration, groaning quietly to herself. “I can’t believe my first kiss was stolen just like that!,” she grumbled.

“What was that?” Jinwoo asked again, still not looking. “Nothing!” she chirped too fast.

He hummed in that low, distracted way, still oblivious, and tugged her closer to his side as they moved forward. Like he always wanted her there.

Y/N sighed, clutching his hand like it was the only thing keeping her from floating away. Rude. Sexy. Dangerous. Yep. She was screwed.

Y/N' inner squealing faded as soon as the distant clanking of chains echoed through the abyss. It was like the sound of inevitability, sharp and cold in the suffocating silence. She exchanged a glance with Jinwoo, but he was already focused, his dark eyes narrowing as they advanced.

The path narrowed, jagged stone walls closing in around them. Miasma thickened with every step, dragging at their bodies like unseen hands trying to pull them under. The devouring aura pressed against their skin, invasive and heavy. Breathing felt like inhaling smoke.

And then—they reached it.

A vast cage sprawled across a sunken chasm, made of rusted iron and ancient bone fused together by blackened roots. The cage trembled, chains stretching taut as something massive stirred within. Shadows deeper than night coiled around it, swallowing even the faint light Y/N summoned to their path.

Then… an eye opened.

Slitted and luminous, it pinned them where they stood. And then the voice came. Low. Mocking. Inside their minds.

"Little Balance Keeper. Little Monarch. You've brought yourselves here willingly? Brave… or foolish."

Y/N flinched despite herself. The voice was a gnawing thing, scraping at the inside of her skull, pulling at old memories. Painful ones. But she gritted her teeth and anchored her feet.

Jinwoo stood like a wall beside her, unmoving. The tension in his jaw betrayed his anger, but his voice was calm. “Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing.”

"You should have let this world rot," the Primordial Hunger whispered. "You could have ruled its ruins, Monarch. And you—Balance Keeper—do you think your light can hold me again?"

The chains binding it shuddered violently. They weren’t just metal; they were constructs of ancient sealing magic. And they were breaking.

Jinwoo took a step forward, shadows pooling at his feet like a living ocean. “Keep mocking. It’ll make your fall sweeter.”

The beast laughed, a sickening noise like bones cracking underfoot. "Come closer, little King. Show me your strength. Entertain me."

Y/N exhaled, steadying herself. Her hands glowed faintly as she summoned radiant chains of light—different from the last time. They weren’t born from desperation now, but from resolve. “I’ll hold it,” she told Jinwoo quietly. Her gaze didn’t waver. “You finish it.”

For a heartbeat, Jinwoo glanced at her. She wasn’t the same girl who had vanished with a smile and a sacrifice. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

Y/N’ light chains lashed out, embedding deep into the colossal limbs of the Hunger as they tried to slip through the bars. The golden bindings flared bright, crackling with energy that defied the darkness. The beast screeched but pulled harder.

Y/N winced, bracing herself, but she held firm.

The cage exploded outward.

Jinwoo moved instantly. Kamish’s Rune Blade materialized in his hand, black lightning wreathing the crimson edge. He swung hard, deflecting a monstrous claw that came crashing down. The force of the impact cracked the stone beneath his feet, but he stood firm, sliding back only inches.

The creature lunged again. A massive maw opened wide, teeth gleaming like obsidian knives. Jinwoo ducked low and drove the blade up, slashing across its jaw. A spray of black ichor hissed in the air—but the wound closed instantly.

Y/N threw her hands forward, radiant chains shooting out and wrapping around the creature’s neck. She pulled with everything she had, light flaring blindingly. The beast howled and jerked away from Jinwoo, snapping several chains but halting its advance.

“Hold it!” Jinwoo barked, not turning his gaze from the creature.

Y/N braced herself. Her arms shook violently as she poured more of her power into the bindings. But her strength… it wasn’t draining like before. Soulbound Fate pulsed in her chest, stabilizing her energy, feeding her from the deep bond they now shared. Jinwoo’s life force echoed in her own.

Her eyes widened in understanding. “We… we can do this,” she whispered to herself. She tightened her grip.

The Hunger laughed again, this time shaking the ground. "Oh… this is new. A tethered soul? No matter. You’ll still die."

Jinwoo pushed off the ground and launched himself forward. He moved like a shadow himself, slipping through the creature’s defenses. He slammed Kamish’s blade into the beast’s side, twisting it hard, forcing black lightning to surge through its body.

But the creature retaliated fast—its tail sweeping toward him like a falling mountain. Jinwoo raised his free hand. “Absolute Dominion,” he growled.

The shadows around him thickened and solidified into an impenetrable wall, catching the blow—but the force sent a quake through the entire domain. Jinwoo skidded back, the impact rattling through his body.

Y/N felt her knees buckle for a second watching him get thrown back. Her heart pounded as doubt clawed its way up. He was strong, but not invincible. And this thing was ancient. Relentless.

The Hunger noticed her fear. "There it is," it whispered in their minds. "The doubt. You’re wasting your breath, Balance Keeper. He’ll fall here, and you’ll seal me again until you wither away."

Y/N' grip faltered. For a moment, she almost let go.

And then Jinwoo shouted. His voice cut through the miasma and the beast’s taunts like a blade.

“TRUST IN US! WE CAN DO THIS!” He wasn’t begging. He was commanding. A surge of power exploded from his body, Absolute Dominion warping the air around them.

Y/N snapped back to herself, breath catching in her throat. This wasn’t like before. They weren’t alone.

She poured everything she had into the chains, screaming as she forced them to tighten again. They blazed hotter, brighter—blinding gold searing through the darkness. Her soul resonated with Jinwoo’s, a steady pulse that anchored her. And now… they weren’t draining her life force. They were feeding something greater.

Jinwoo charged again, Kamish’s blade spinning in his hand as his shadows rose behind him. Igris, Beru, Iron—all of them bursting forth like a wave of vengeance. But Jinwoo led the attack himself.

He drove his blade straight into the Hunger’s throat as the shadows swarmed its limbs, locking them down. His free hand thrust forward again, plunging into the wound.

A shudder ran through the beast as Jinwoo’s authority overruled it. The creature howled, its body convulsing violently as its resistance crumbled under Jinwoo’s unrelenting will.

Y/N saw him glowing faintly. The link between them was strong—Soulbound Fate channeling their strength in a loop. He wasn’t just fighting for himself. And she wasn’t just holding it back.

They were one force. Perfect balance.

“Submit,” Jinwoo growled.

The Hunger’s body writhed, massive limbs spasming as its essence was pulled into Jinwoo’s shadow. Y/N' chains snapped free as the form dissolved, folding into darkness and vanishing into Jinwoo’s dominion.

Silence fell. For a long moment, nothing moved.

Y/N stood frozen for a heartbeat, the radiant glow from her chains fading slowly around her trembling hands. She stared at the place where the beast had been, where moments ago it had fought tooth and claw to tear them both apart.

But now… silence.

Her legs gave out beneath her. “We… we did it?” she whispered, like she didn’t believe the words even as they left her mouth. Her wide eyes turned to Jinwoo, searching his face for confirmation. For something real.

Jinwoo turned toward her. Their eyes met. And then she ran.

“Jinwoo!” Y/N’ cry cracked in the air as she threw herself into his arms.

He caught her easily, but his legs—exhausted, battered—didn’t hold. They fell hard to the cold, broken earth, tangled in one another. But neither cared. Y/N clutched his Cloak, burying her face against his neck as if afraid he would disappear again. Jinwoo’s arms locked around her, firm and steady, grounding them both in this fragile, miraculous moment.

His ragged breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “I’ve got you.” And he did.

For several long moments, they just held each other, shivering in relief, hearts pounding in sync.

But Jinwoo’s mind sharpened again. They weren’t done.

[System Notification]

You have defeated [Primordial Hunger].

You have conquered the Abyss. Level Up!

Level Up!

Level Up!

Shadow Extraction is now available.

His dark gaze lifted toward the darkness that still lingered. The echo of the Primordial Hunger’s existence hadn’t vanished completely.

Y/N slowly eased back as he helped her sit upright. “What… what are you doing?” she asked quietly, sensing his shift in focus.

“I’m not leaving it like this,” Jinwoo said, his voice low, calm, but edged with finality. “This thing—this Hunger—has no place being free. If I can’t destroy it, I’ll control it.”

He rose to his feet, still holding Y/N’ hand for a moment before gently letting go. Y/N watched him, concern in her gaze, but trusted his decision.

Jinwoo stepped forward, the dark space still vibrating faintly with what remained of the Primordial Hunger’s will. He extended his hand, shadow energy spiraling from his palm, curling in the air like tendrils of smoke.

“Arise,” he commanded. His voice thundered with Absolute Dominion.

The darkness swirled violently. The Hunger’s remaining essence clawed at existence, resisting the pull, its presence heavy, oppressive. Eyes—those terrible, slitted eyes—opened again within the void.

“You would bind me?” the voice spat, deep and mocking. “I devour worlds. I consume Kings and Gods alike. You cannot chain me like one of your pets.”

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about chains,” he said. “It’s about purpose.”

The beast’s snarl echoed in their minds.

Jinwoo stepped closer. His hand didn’t tremble. “Stay in this abyss… and you’ll rot. Forgotten. Alone.” His voice softened just slightly, dangerously persuasive. “Serve me… and you’ll feed on something greater. Endless battle. Endless worlds. But never alone.”

There was a long pause. The Hunger’s gaze flickered—something almost… curious passing behind those ancient eyes.

“You offer me… release?” it murmured.

“I offer you a throne beneath mine,” Jinwoo said. “You can devour everything I destroy. If you obey.”

The oppressive energy around them tightened like a storm gathering on the brink. Jinwoo didn’t move.

He tried a second time, his voice ringing through the void, commanding. “Arise.”

The swirling shadows recoiled violently, shrieking through the dead air. Still resisting.

Jinwoo’s gaze hardened. He inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar thrum of Soulbound Fate anchoring him, Y/N watching silently at his back. This wasn’t just for him. It was for her. For everything they fought for.

For the third time—calm, steady, absolute—he spoke: “Arise.”

A deep rumble shook the ground beneath their feet.

Then, something answered.

From the void, the remaining essence of the Primordial Hunger began to twist, condense, and reshape. The monstrous mass that once tore through dimensions became something more refined… but no less terrifying.

A towering lupine form emerged from Jinwoo’s shadow—its body sleek yet massive, draped in writhing tendrils of darkness like a living nightmare. Its fur bristled with jagged shadow spikes, and veins of ghostly violet energy pulsed faintly beneath its obsidian surface, marking its ancient power. Eyes ignited—a deep, menacing violet glow—searing through the gloom like twin void stars. They locked onto Jinwoo.

It snarled, a low rumbling growl that promised destruction, hunger… submission.

This wasn’t the hulking, mindless behemoth they had fought moments ago. It was more focused. Intelligent. But still Primordial.

The shadow aura coiled and uncoiled from its massive paws as it stalked forward, circling Jinwoo once—predatory and tense—before lowering its massive head.

Then it bowed.

Its muzzle touched the cold, cracked earth at Jinwoo’s feet in absolute submission. An alpha who knew it was standing before the true apex.

Jinwoo stood tall, black mist curling around him as his shadow pulsed in acknowledgment. He said nothing at first, simply resting his hand on the creature’s massive head. The contact sent a ripple of power through the air.

“You belong to me now,” he said softly. “And you’ll never be alone again.”

As the colossal shadow wolf knelt before him, the familiar ding of the System echoed in his mind.

You have extracted the remains of [Primordial Hunger]. Shadow extraction complete. Designation pending...

Please assign a name to your new shadow.

Jinwoo’s gaze sharpened. The System window hovered quietly, waiting. He didn’t hesitate. “…Fenrir,” he commanded, his voice resonant, carrying absolute authority.

Another ding followed.

[Primordial Shadow Beast: Fenrir] has been created.

Rank: Monarch-Class Type: Abyss Devourer Loyalty: Absolute

Once a force of endless hunger and ruin, it now serves the Shadow Monarch. Its power stands at the pinnacle, rivaling the ancient Monarchs. Beware: its hunger remains, but its leash is unbreakable.

The massive wolf—Fenrir—lifted its head as if understanding its name, violet eyes blazing with renewed purpose. It gave a deep, bone-rattling growl that rolled through the ground like distant thunder, then snapped its jaws in anticipation.

Jinwoo gave a small, satisfied smirk. "Good," he murmured, resting his hand once more on Fenrir's obsidian mane, dark mist swirling between his fingers. "You'll feed well."

As they preparing their way toward the exit of the Abyss, things should’ve felt serious. They had just conquered a nightmare, sealed the Primordial Hunger, and now walked through the gloom with a terrifying shadow beast at their side.

But then… there was Y/N.

She slowed down, glancing over her shoulder at the towering shadow wolf that padded behind them. Fenrir’s monstrous frame radiated an ancient hunger even now. Mist coiled off his fur like dark smoke, crimson eyes glowing in the deep gloom. He was a terrifying sight—huge, sleek, and every inch a predator.

Y/N squinted at him, thinking.

Jinwoo noticed immediately. “What are you doing?”

She ignored him. “Hey… Fenrir?”

The massive beast’s head turned slowly toward her. His glowing red eyes focused, waiting. Silent. Menacing.

“I was thinking…” Y/N began, voice light, “can you… maybe transform into a cute puppy version of yourself?”

There was a moment of silence.

Jinwoo froze mid-step. “…What.”

Fenrir’s eyes narrowed, a low growl rumbling out from deep in his chest like distant thunder. His aura flared dangerously, shadow mist swirling in agitation. He took a deliberate step closer, towering over Y/N, jaws parting to show gleaming fangs.

「 I AM THE PRIMORDIAL HUNGER. THE DEVOURER OF ALL. 」 His voice echoed directly into their minds, deep and ancient. 「 I WILL NOT LOWER MYSELF TO—」

Y/N, unphased, marched right up to him and, without hesitation, reached out. She gave his massive shoulder an experimental rub. Then another. Then both hands dove into his shadowy fur like she was fluffing a pillow.

Jinwoo just stared, slack-jawed. “…Y/N… that thing devoured worlds.”

Fenrir’s furious aura wavered. He went stock still. The growl faltered. His eyes, wide and glowing, blinked in disbelief.

And then… Swish. A massive, shadowy tail gave a faint wag behind him.

Y/N gasped, delighted. “He likes it! And now he’s our good boy. Every good boy deserves a belly rub. You’re just misunderstood.”

Jinwoo slapped his forehead. “Oh my god.”

Fenrir stiffened, his shadow smoke flaring out again as if trying to reclaim his dignity. But the tail—traitorous, disobedient tail—wagged again. Slightly faster this time.

「 Cease this at once! 」 His deep mental voice sounded strained. Almost desperate. 「 I shall not lower myself to such frivolity. 」

But Y/N was beaming. “You’re totally enjoying this! Don’t deny it!”

Then, with an innocent (or maybe not-so-innocent) grin, she said, “If you want more rubs… give me your paw.”

There was another heavy pause. Fenrir’s eyes glowed fiercely, his head tilting as if insulted. But slowly—hesitantly—he lifted one massive paw and placed it in front of her like an obedient pup.

Jinwoo made a strangled noise in his throat. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Ohhh! Poochi! Who’s the good boy now??” Y/N cooed, her voice suddenly turning ridiculously high-pitched as she grabbed his paw with both hands, giving it gentle rubs. “Chukuchukuchuuuu! You big baby.”

Fenrir looked away sharply as if pretending none of this was happening. But the faintest puff of smoke escaped his snout like an embarrassed huff. His tail wagged again—this time an undeniable rhythm, betraying his pride completely.

Jinwoo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “This is definitely you,” he muttered, glancing at Y/N. “No illusion could ever come up with this madness.”

“Thank you,” Y/N chirped brightly.

Fenrir sulking silently in the shadow —still menacing… but with his tail wagging ever so slightly, as Y/N gave him an approving pat and kept hold of his paw for a little longer before it disappeared.

Jinwoo sighed, but there was a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Yeah. She was home.

With a final glance back at the place they had conquered, Jinwoo shifted his stance. "Shadow Exchange," he commanded quietly.

In an instant, they vanished from the Abyss—reappearing on the surface, where the world was still and waiting. The air was lighter, the sky stretched endless and blue above them, far from the suffocating darkness they had left behind.

Y/N took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She tilted her face toward the sky, the sunlight warming her skin. In her heart, she whispered softly. Thank you… Raizel. For fighting. For trying. For loving me… across lifetimes.

Far away, in his distant domain, Raizel stood in quiet stillness. He exhaled slowly, as if he had finally set down an unspoken burden. A faint warmth, almost like peace, settled in his chest. And though he would never say it aloud, his thoughts found their way to Jinwoo. A worthy king… to stand at her side. He closed his eyes. And let go.

The moment their feet touched solid ground again, Y/N took in a sharp breath—the air here was different. Real. Fresh. Familiar.

Home, Jinwoo thought.

And waiting at the gate of the house were two figures. As soon as Jinwoo and Y/N stepped forward, his mother rushed out, her face crumpling as she shouted, “Y/N!”

Jinah was right behind her. “Unnie!”

They collided into Y/N with all the force of a tidal wave. His mother hugged her so tightly, Y/N actually squeaked. “Oh my god, I can’t breathe!” But the words were muffled against Mrs. Sung’s shoulder. Jinah clung to her waist, crying openly.

“You came back! You really came back!” Jinah sobbed. “Oppa didn’t say anything, he just disappeared, we thought—!”

“I’m here,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick. “I’m here now.”

Mrs. Sung pulled back just enough to cup Y/N’ face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks but her smile radiant. “Thank you for coming back to us. We prayed… every day.”

Jinwoo stood nearby, watching quietly as his family wrapped Y/N in their arms. His lips curled into a small, victorious smile. She’s home.

For the first time in a long while, something inside him felt at peace.

Later that night, the house finally settled into a peaceful quiet. Jinah had passed out on the couch, mumbling something about "meat comas," and his mom had gone to bed after fussing over Y/N one last time. The warm hum of home wrapped around them like a familiar blanket.

Jinwoo stood in the kitchen, pouring hot water into two mugs. His movements were slow, precise—automatic, really. He barely realized what he was doing until he set the second cup on the counter and stared at it for a long moment.

Y/N tilted her head at him from where she sat at the table, legs curled under her like she owned the place. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Jinwoo’s fingers curled lightly around his own cup. “Nothing,” he murmured, then let out a quiet laugh. “I just realized… for months after you were gone, I kept doing this.”

“Doing what?”

He glanced at her, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Making two cups of coffee. Every night. Out of habit, I guess. Or… hope.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten. She stared at him, warmth spreading across her chest—but before she could say anything soft or serious, he smirked, just a little crooked and teasing.

“I even caught myself talking to your pillow,” he added smoothly, taking a sip from his cup.

Y/N nearly choked on air. “What?!”

Jinwoo shrugged with zero shame. “What can I say? It still smelled like you.”

Her face flamed instantly. “Jinwoo!”

He tilted his head toward her, that slow, lazy grin spreading wider. “Don’t worry. I washed it before it got too weird.”

“You—!” She set her coffee down with a loud clink. “Oh my god. You’re worse than I thought.”

“Maybe.” His tone dipped lower, warm and teasing now. “But after all this time, you’re back. And now I don’t need a pillow.”

Y/N stared at him, eyes wide. “Are you flirting with me over coffee?”

“I’m telling you the truth.” Jinwoo walked over, setting his cup down beside hers. He braced his hands on either side of the table and leaned in, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint bitter edge of his coffee breath. “And if you’re not careful, I might start thinking you like it.”

Her heart skipped hard in her chest, but she smirked anyway, refusing to back down. “You’ve been love-struck that hard, huh?”

Jinwoo hummed low in his throat. “You have no idea.”

For a moment, neither moved. The air crackled between them.

The stars blinked faintly above them, a scattered sea of light against the dark sky. Jinwoo sat with Y/N beneath their shared blanket, their shoulders pressed close, fingers lightly entwined around warm mugs of coffee.

She sighed in contentment, resting her head against him. “I missed this,” she murmured, voice soft and peaceful.

Jinwoo glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable for a beat before a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Me too.”

For a long while, neither spoke. The air between them was warm and quiet—too quiet.

Then Jinwoo said, casually, “You know… it was almost too peaceful while you were gone.”

Y/N blinked, tilting her head up slightly. “Too peaceful? That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

He chuckled, low in his throat, a sound that might have passed for amusement. “You’d think.”

She waited, expecting him to say more.

Jinwoo lifted his mug to his lips, took a slow sip. His dark eyes stared ahead, distant. “Everyone was smiling. Moving on. Like nothing happened.” His fingers tapped against the ceramic, idly, as if keeping time with something only he could hear. “Like you’d never existed.”

Y/N frowned, the smile fading from her lips.

“So,” he continued, tone light, “I started thinking… maybe it was time to mess things up a little.” He gave a slow shrug. “Tear the world apart. Make them all scream, just so it would feel… fair.”

Her eyes widened, a quick intake of breath catching in her throat.

But Jinwoo glanced down at her with a crooked smirk. “Kidding. That’d be a bad look for me, right?”

Y/N let out a laugh, unsure if she was supposed to believe him or not. “You… are joking, right?”

He leaned in, bumping her shoulder playfully. “What do you think?”

Y/N smiled faintly, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

She leaned into him again, relaxing under the illusion of his calm. She believed it. She wanted to believe it. After all, he was here, wasn’t he? He hadn’t lost himself. He’d brought her home.

But Jinwoo didn’t say anything more.

Inside, where she couldn’t hear, his thoughts echoed in the silence.

I wasn’t kidding, he admitted to himself. I was one step away from destroying everything. From making the world bleed just so it would hurt as much as I did.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in her scent, the warmth of her beside him.

If I hadn’t found you… if you hadn’t come back…

He exhaled slowly, hiding the tremor in his chest behind another sip of coffee.

Instead, he looked at her, smiling faintly. “I thought you said you admired me,” he teased. “Why make me feel like the loneliest man in the world?”

Y/N laughed again, softer this time, and squeezed his hand.

Jinwoo squeezed back, but his eyes drifted once more to the stars, silent.

You saved me, he thought. Even when you weren’t here. But I don’t think I could’ve waited much longer.

And because she didn’t know what he was truly thinking, because he made sure she wouldn’t, Y/N smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder again. Peaceful. Safe.

The house had settled into a quiet calm for the night. Jinwoo’s mother and Jinah had long since gone to bed, and the stars outside were a muted shimmer through the window. Y/N stood in her borrowed room, toweling off her hair after a warm shower, still getting used to the feeling of being home—even if it wasn’t the world she was born in.

She was humming softly to herself, fluffing at her already half-dried hair when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Y/N,” came Jinwoo’s voice, low and hesitant in a way that immediately made her heartbeat quicken.

She padded barefoot to the door and opened it, tilting her head curiously. “Hey.”

Jinwoo stood there, silent for a moment, eyes a little darker than usual. Then, without asking, he stepped inside. Y/N blinked but didn’t stop him, distracted as she was, still toweling at her damp hair. “What’s up?” she asked, casually wringing out strands that were already dry.

He was quiet behind her. She felt it before she saw it—the weight of his gaze, heavy and intent. Then suddenly, a warm arm snaked around her waist from behind, drawing her gently but firmly back against him.

Y/N stiffened for half a second, wide-eyed, her hands frozen mid-dry. “J-Jinwoo…?”

His head lowered beside her ear, his breath warm against her damp skin. “I want to sleep beside you tonight,” he whispered, voice raw but controlled. “I’m scared if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”

Y/N’ throat went dry, and for a moment she didn’t trust her voice. She nodded faintly instead, cheeks flushed so hot she thought she might ignite on the spot. “O-Okay,” she managed.

He hummed softly, satisfied with her answer, but didn’t move right away. His grip stayed gentle around her, and after a long moment, he finally let her go.

“I’ll wait,” he said simply, giving her space.

And wait, he did.

Y/N continued to pretend to dry her hair, standing at her little vanity, fussing with invisible dampness as if it was her most sacred duty. She ran the towel over her hair again. And again. And then again.

From the corner of her eye, she could feel Jinwoo watching her from where he sat on the edge of her bed.

Except now… he wasn’t just watching.

He was waiting.

And very obviously annoyed.

When she risked a glance at him, she found him sitting there, arms crossed over his chest, one brow raised high in a look that screamed, Really?

Y/N froze. “What?”

“You’re stalling,” Jinwoo said flatly.

“No, I’m not,” she shot back, spinning back to the mirror. “My hair’s still wet.”

“Y/N.” His tone was patient in the way that suggested it was running out.

“It is! I can feel it!” She rubbed the towel over her hair again, aggressively.

“Y/N.”

She risked another glance. He was now lying back against her pillows, one arm behind his head, the other lazily patting the empty space beside him. His gaze was steady, unamused, and just a little smug.

“You’re acting like a virgin,” he said bluntly.

Y/N sputtered, nearly dropping the towel. “I—! You—! I am—!” she stammered, cheeks burning even hotter.

Jinwoo’s lips twitched. “So you keep telling me.”

“That’s because it’s true!” she huffed, spinning back to the mirror, mortified.

“You’ve been drying your hair for twenty minutes,” Jinwoo drawled. “You’re going to wear it out.”

Y/N groaned into the towel. “This isn’t fair,” she mumbled.

“It’s not,” Jinwoo agreed easily. “I’ve been suffering longer.”

She peeked at him through her fingers. He was grinning now. That quiet, devastating grin that made her stomach do flip-flops. His hand was still patting the space beside him, slow and lazy.

Finally, she gave up, dropping the towel onto the vanity with a resigned sigh. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But no funny business.”

“I’ll behave,” Jinwoo promised. Then, after a beat, “Mostly.”

She shot him a look as she crossed the room, but when she slipped under the covers beside him, his arms were there instantly, wrapping around her like he’d been waiting years for this.

And maybe he had.

<< Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

Jinwoo’s gaze didn’t waver. “She’s waiting.” Then he pushed forward, the black mist swirling as the gate opened with a sound like cracking bone.

He stepped into silence. A place where stars flickered like dying embers and gravity held no dominion. And there, seated atop a massive throne of fractured light and darkness intertwined, was Raizel—the Monarch of Origin.

His silver hair floated weightlessly, and his eyes, golden and deep as the void, tracked Jinwoo’s approach with slow, deliberate calculation.

“You have grown, Ashborn’s heir,” Raizel murmured. His voice was smooth, but something ancient and dangerous coiled beneath it. “Yet, you come here… crawling.”

Jinwoo’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t come to kneel.”

Raizel’s thin lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “No. You never did, did you?” He rose from his throne with languid grace, as if gravity was beneath him. “You never surrendered her to me. Not when I first asked. Not when I warned you.” His gaze gleamed. “And now you beg for what I could have prevented.”

Jinwoo’s fingers curled into fists, shadows writhing around his arms. “You mean what you wanted to claim.” He took a step forward, dark tendrils rising behind him. “She’s not a possession.”

Raizel’s laughter was cold. “Everything is a possession. Even you. Ashborn knew that in the end.” He studied Jinwoo like a disappointed teacher. “She was always more than you understood. The Balance Keeper… the one who holds the line between life and death, creation and destruction.”

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what you call her.” He met Raizel’s gaze without flinching. “She’s Y/N.”

Raizel’s smile finally cracked wider, sharp and mocking. “And you love her.” He walked in a slow circle around Jinwoo, as if measuring him for something. “You think that matters? That love will anchor her back to you? Foolish boy.” His voice dropped, smooth and cruel. “Love is why she chose to disappear.”

Jinwoo’s breath hitched, but he refused to look away. “She chose to save us.”

Raizel nodded slowly. “And you let her.”

The words cut deeper than Jinwoo expected.

Raizel came to stand in front of Jinwoo again, his presence suffocating, heavy with ageless power. “She belongs in my realm. With me.” His golden gaze softened with something almost resembling regret—or longing. “I offered her eternity, once. She refused. Because of you.” His tone sharpened. “And now, she’s trapped in oblivion. Untethered. You, Shadow Monarch, have no right to demand her return.”

Jinwoo’s shadow flared. “I’m not demanding,” he said quietly. “I’m taking her back.”

For a long moment, Raizel said nothing. Then, with a lazy flick of his fingers, the space around them twisted—revealing visions: Y/N closing the portals, standing on her shadow dragon, smiling faintly as her body turned into radiant dust.

“She was… radiant,” Raizel murmured. “Even at the end.”

Jinwoo’s throat worked. He forced himself to speak. “Show me the way to The Well of Beginnings”

Raizel’s golden eyes gleamed brighter. He extended his hand, fingers tipped in faint light. “The place where no Shadow Monarch dares. To The Well of Beginnings?”

His tone darkened.

"Well then…. But there is a price... When you find her… you’ll have to choose: restore her… or restore the world.”

Jinwoo clenched his jaw. “I’ll save her.”

Raizel smiled faintly, like a man watching a beautiful tragedy unfold. “If you fail… I’ll claim what’s left of her. And next time… I won’t ask.”

Jinwoo’s shadows coiled tighter, his teeth grit. “You’ll never touch her.”

Raizel’s crimson gaze glowed. “We’ll see.”

Raizel had shown him the way. Silent as ever, his gaze heavy with knowledge Jinwoo barely understood. The key shimmered faintly in his hand, ancient power humming beneath his fingers.

Jinwoo stood at the threshold of a forgotten ruin, half-buried beneath time and dust. This was the place—the door to the Abyss of the Well of Beginnings. A place no Monarch or Ruler had ever dared enter. A place only he could open.

“This is it,” he murmured. His voice was low, but steady. No more hesitation. No more waiting.

“I’ll bring her home.”

[System Alert]

Entering Quest: “The Well of Beginnings”

Difficulty: [Unknown]

Success Rate: [???]

Proceed? [YES] | [NO]

Jinwoo didn’t hesitate. [YES]

The portal swallowed them in silence.

Raizel did not follow them into the Well. He remained behind, his golden eyes gleaming as he watched the scar in reality slowly mend itself.

“She was never yours, Ashborn’s heir,” he murmured. His fingers traced the faint scar over his heart—an old wound, from a time when he first laid eyes on the Balance Keeper. “Y/N belongs to the one who endures.” A faint smile curved his lips. “And I will endure long after you’ve fallen.”

He turned away, his mind already savoring the thought of her return. But not to Jinwoo.

The Abyss yawned open before him—an endless darkness at the bottom of the Well of Beginnings. Jinwoo stood at the edge, the obsidian key that had given him pulsing with a steady, ancient heartbeat in his palm. Every instinct screamed at him to be cautious. But he had already made his choice.

He stepped forward.

The moment his foot crossed the threshold, gravity itself seemed to vanish. Jinwoo was falling, yet not falling—drifting through an expanse of infinite night. Then came the pulse. A deep, resonating beat that echoed through his very soul.

[You have entered: The Abyss of the Well of Beginnings.]

[Commencing Memory Restoration.]

A flood of memories surged, but they weren’t his alone. He saw her. Y/N. But not as she was now. No… this was different.

The first life. Raizel stood alone at the peak of his kingdom. The last of the Noblesse. Yet, there was someone beside him in those quiet moments. A woman whose silver hair glowed under the moonlight, her eyes filled with endless loyalty and sorrow. She called him My King, but her smile… it was soft, familiar. Like the one Y/N gave him now when she thought he wasn’t looking.

[Synchronization Rate: 33%…]

The second life. Ashborn. The Monarch of Shadow. The last of the rulers to hold the line against oblivion.

He stood atop a battlefield drenched in the blood of Monarchs and Rulers alike. His wings, darker than night, spread wide as the world crumbled around him. Yet even in his absolute power, he couldn’t save her.

Her body was breaking apart—turning to dust—her essence sacrificed to destroy an enemy they could not defeat otherwise.

“Why…?” Ashborn’s voice was not a growl, nor a roar—it was the low, broken whisper of a god losing the last piece of his humanity. He dropped to his knees as her ashes slipped between his fingers. His clawed hands, stained with ancient blood, trembling.

“I told you… I would stay by your side,” she whispered, her soul flickering like a dying flame in his grasp. “And you did,” he murmured. And then she was gone.

Ashborn raised his head, his hollow gaze turning toward the skies that wept fire. His fury and grief became a storm that tore through creation. That was the day the Shadow Monarch renounced the war. That was the day he became death itself.

[Synchronization Rate: 67%…]

The third life. Jinwoo. Himself.

He felt it as if it were happening now. His heart pounding, his lungs crushed under the weight of invisible hands.

Her form dissolved against his chest, leaving faint warmth and motes of light behind.

“No. No, no, no… Please... not like this…” Jinwoo’s hands scrambled to hold her together, but his fingers passed through smoke and fading light.

And she was gone.

And for the first time, Jinwoo understood why Ashborn had fallen to his knees. Because he did too.

[Synchronization Complete.]

His hands clenched at his sides as the memories settled into him like old armor finally reforged.

[New Title Acquired: The Trinity of Existence.]

[Hidden Trait Unlocked: Soulbound Fate.]

[Description: Your soul and hers have been entwined through three lives. This bond transcends life and death. Fate itself has tied your existences together.]

[Hidden Passive Skill Unlocked: Absolute Dominion.]

[Description: You have ascended beyond the concept of Monarch and King. Absolute Dominion grants you the power to exert complete control over your domain, shadows, and the battlefield itself.]

Jinwoo opened his eyes. They glowed faintly violet, layered over the abyssal black of his shadows. And yet, the first thing he looked for wasn’t power.

The pain was unbearable.

Jinwoo’s breath came in shallow bursts as he dropped to his knees, one hand bracing himself against the cold obsidian ground of the Abyss. His other hand clutched at his temple, trying to hold his mind together as memories—no, lifetimes—flooded in all at once. Raizel. Ashborn. Himself.

Their grief. Their rage. Their love.

And then, amidst the chaos, a hand. Soft. Warm. Familiar.

Slender fingers combed gently through his hair, gliding down to cradle his cheek. He flinched at first, but the touch was grounding. Calming. It pulled him out of the storm in his mind and into something quieter. Safer.

“Rest, Jinwoo,” came the gentle whisper, so close it ghosted over his ear. “You’ve carried enough… let me hold you now.”

His throat tightened as he turned his head. It was her. Y/N.

Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders like liquid starlight, her violet eyes soft, full of understanding and something deeper. She knelt before him, straddling his lap now, as if she’d always belonged there, her body so close. Her fingers trailed from his cheek down to his throat, then lower, her hand resting lightly on his chest—right over his heart.

He didn’t pull away. Couldn’t.

His hand reached for her almost desperately, fingers brushing along the curve of her waist, up her side, feeling the familiar dip where her ribs were. His palm slid over the small of her back as he drew her closer. He needed to feel her—confirm that she was there, real, warm. And she was. Warm. Soft. Alive beneath his touch.

“Y/N…” His voice was hoarse, nearly breaking.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against the edge of his jaw, her breath feather-light on his skin. “Stay with me,” she whispered. “Just for a while. You’ve done enough.”

His hands roamed without thinking—up her back, over her shoulder, down the slope of her thigh. She felt right under his hands, like she belonged there. He let his forehead rest against hers, closing his eyes as his hands gripped her hips, needing to anchor himself to something that wasn’t pain, wasn’t war.

God, he missed her.

For a heartbeat, he was tempted. To stay. To let go.

But something was wrong.

His brow furrowed as his thumb idly traced the curve of her hip, then slid to her hand where it rested on his chest. He took it gently in his, feeling the smoothness of her fingers. Too smooth. No calluses from gripping her scythe. No faint scars from battle.

His heartbeat slowed. His eyes opened.

This wasn’t Y/N.

Jinwoo’s grip shifted, tightening on her wrist. He pulled her hand up between them, staring at it. Perfect. Flawless. Wrong.

“The real Y/N would never ask me to stop,” he murmured. His voice was quiet, but it cut through the illusion like a blade. “She’d tell me to get up. To keep fighting. To stand with her.” He looked up, meeting her gaze—but now it was different. The softness faded, replaced by something hollow, predatory.

“You almost had me,” Jinwoo said, his tone cold now, even as his heart ached.

The illusion’s lips curled back in a mocking smile. “You wanted to stay.” “I wanted her,” he corrected. “You’re not her.”

His shadow erupted, tendrils lashing out to wrap around the false Y/N, lifting her into the air as her form distorted, flickering with static before revealing something monstrous beneath.

“You’ll never be her,” Jinwoo finished.

With a pulse of Absolute Dominion, the shadow constricted. The illusion shattered into ash and smoke, swept away by the currents of his domain.

Jinwoo stood slowly, his breathing steady now. He flexed his hand, still remembering the phantom warmth of her body against his. But now that warmth became something else—a promise. A reason to keep moving forward.

“No more games,” he muttered, his gaze burning as he stepped deeper into the abyss.

<< Chapter 13 | Chapter 15 >>

He closed his fingers around it. His heart, which had been hollow since she vanished, stirred.

“You’re still out there,” he whispered.

But

It had been months since the war ended. Since the portals sealed. Since she disappeared.

Jinwoo stood alone beneath a gray sky, the world he fought so hard to protect now quiet. Too quiet.

The people were rebuilding. Hunters had returned to their guilds. Even the Shadow Legion stood at ease in the world’s newfound peace. But for Jinwoo, there was no peace.

He hadn’t smiled in weeks. Maybe months. He wasn’t counting anymore.

That night, sleep came fitfully. When it did, he found himself back in the dungeon. The first one. Where it all began.

The air was cold, damp. The faint glow of torches flickered against ancient stone walls. And there she was.

Y/N. Standing there in the center of the chamber, looking around in confusion, as if she had just woken up from a long, strange sleep.

Who, by the looks of it, seemed oddly unprepared for a dungeon—was staring at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open. She was dressed in a loose satin top and mini shorts, similar to what his sister, Jinah, wore when lounging at home. It wasn’t exactly combat-ready attire.

A slow, nervous grin spread across her face. "Uh... hi?"

Jinwoo noticed that she suddenly took a deep breath, her expression shifting into something almost… dreamy… like before..

She carefully walked straight up to him. No hesitation. No fear.

Before he could even breathe, she collided into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around him, holding on like he was the only thing keeping her together. Her face buried against his neck, and he felt it—

And then she did it. The thing that always made his heartbeat stumble.

She sniffed him. Just like before.

Y/N, completely oblivious, sighed dreamily. "Ahhh~ this is amazing. Jinwoo, you're so handsome…" She gave him a little squeeze. "And your body! So firm! Wow, I can really feel it now that I’m up close!" Y/N added, taking a long, dramatic sniff. "And you smell so good,"

His hands trembled, hovering at her waist, afraid to touch her. Afraid she might vanish if he held her too tight.

But then his heart surged. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his hand in her hair, breathing her in like he was starving. “You’re here,” he whispered. “I found you.”

Relief, thick and overwhelming, flooded his chest. His throat tightened as he pulled her impossibly closer. He could feel her heartbeat pounding wildly against his.

But then— She flickered. Like ash caught on the wind.

“Y/N?” His grip tightened. “No. No—stay with me.”

She smiled softly against his chest. And when she looked up at him, it was with a tenderness that shattered him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her hand caressed his cheek, thumb wiping away a tear he didn’t realize had fallen. “You always were my home.”

Her body dissolved into stardust between his fingers. Weightless. Gone.

He shouted her name, reaching through the empty air— But she was already fading.

Jinwoo woke with a ragged gasp. His chest heaved as he sat up, drenched in sweat, his fingers clutching the empty air where she’d been. His breath hitched— And something hot slid down his cheek. He wiped it away absently, only to find more falling.

A quiet knock came at his door. “Oppa?” It was Jinah. Her voice small, uncertain. “I… I made you something. You should eat.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t trust himself to speak.

Jinah stood silently outside his door. She heard the stifled sounds through the wall. Her brother, the strongest hunter in the world, crying quietly where he thought no one could hear him.

She rested her hand on the door, her forehead pressing gently to the cold wood. She closed her eyes, letting her own tears fall without shame. “I miss her too, Oppa,” she whispered. But the words didn’t reach him.

Later that night, when Jinwoo finally emerged, pale and empty, his mother was waiting for him in the living room. She smiled gently, like mothers do when they’re holding the whole sky on their back so their children can breathe.

She pulled him in without a word, his tall frame folding into her embrace. He stiffened at first— Then broke.

Like a dam bursting behind his ribs. His face buried against his mother’s shoulder, his hands gripping her like she was the only thing anchoring him left in this world. The house that once was filled with light and laughter now hung heavy with grief.

“She’s not coming back,” Jinwoo rasped, his voice cracked and hollow. “I promised… I promised to protect her.”

His mother stroked his back gently, soothing him like she had when he was a boy.

“Maybe you just need time.” she whispered.

The city stretched out beneath him. Lit windows. Neon signs. Life. From this rooftop, it all looked peaceful.

Children’s laughter echoed faintly from a nearby park. Couples strolled beneath warm lamplight, arms linked, their laughter soft and easy. Music drifted from a distant street corner where performers played for coins and applause. It was… idyllic.

And Jinwoo hated it.

His hands remained buried in the pockets of his coat, clenched into white-knuckled fists. A slow exhale left his lips, but it didn’t ease the tension grinding his teeth together.

They laughed. They smiled. They held each other like they hadn’t lost a damn thing.

And why shouldn’t they? They didn’t remember the price. The world had moved on. The world always moved on.

But he hadn’t. He couldn’t.

A faint glint of shadow shimmered in his dark eyes. Not the controlled, loyal power of his shadows… Something deeper. Older.

Resentment coiled like smoke in his chest. Why them? Why did they get to be happy? When he had given up everything? When he had watched her disappear in his arms, like dust on the wind?

His grip tightened, the leather of his gloves creaking faintly. He hadn’t realized his shadows were bleeding out of him until they slithered at his feet, writhing like restless serpents.

And for a moment, he wanted them to know. He wanted them to see. What it cost to give them this peace.

“Are you going to curse the world you protected?”

The voice was low, but not harsh. Bellion.

He stopped before him and knelt. His massive wings tucked close, head bowed low.

Jinwoo didn’t turn right away. Instead, he stared down at the people walking below like they were nothing more than ants in a well-lit terrarium. Trapped in their blissful ignorance.

“…No,” Jinwoo answered after a moment. But it was a lie. Or maybe a wish.

Bellion stepped closer, his armor whispering with each movement. “You saved them. You saved all of us.”

Jinwoo gave a bitter laugh, almost soundless. “No. She did.”

He finally turned. His dark eyes met Bellion’s steady gaze. And Bellion understood. Of course he did. He’d been there. He’d watched it happen.

“My King,” Bellion rumbled. “I have found it.”

Jinwoo’s gaze sharpened. “What did you say?”

Bellion lifted his head, and for the first time since Y/N disappeared, there was a light in their King’s eyes. “I have found the door… to Monarch of Origins’ Domain”

The words hung in the air like a crack of thunder. Beru let out a rasping gasp. Igris’ head tilted, his crimson gaze brightening.

Jinwoo’s pulse pounding. “Where?”

Bellion held out a fragment of what looked like crystallized shadow—a key, gleaming faintly in the gloom. “It is beyond the old veil. Past the remnants of the dead stars. It is not a place for the living.” He hesitated. “But you are not just living.”

Jinwoo’s fingers curled around the key. It was warm. Familiar. It hummed, and his Shadow Monarch instincts stirred at its touch.

Bellion watched him carefully. “My King,” he said quietly. “I must warn you. Raizel’s domain is not kind. It tests those who enter. And Raizel… he has not forgotten your refusal to give him the Balance Keeper.”

Jinwoo’s eyes darkened. He remembered Raizel. The ancient Monarch of Origin. The one who once offered an alliance, a bargain: hand over Y/N, and he would have answers, power, and safety. Jinwoo refused. He always would.

And now Raizel was waiting.

Bellion lowered his head again. “He still desires her, My King. He believes she belongs to him… that she is the key to restoring his dominion.” A pause. “If you fail in this… he will not wait. He will claim her.”

Jinwoo’s grip on the key tightened. No. Not while he was still breathing.

As the key’s glow pulsed, a System Alert chimed in Jinwoo’s mind.

[System Alert]

[You have acquired the “Key of Origins.”]

Quest Line Unlocked: “The Well of Beginnings”

The path to reclaim what was lost has opened.

Warning: Success is uncertain. Sacrifice is inevitable.

Objective: – Enter the Well of Beginnings. – Locate and retrieve the lost essence of the Balance Keeper. – Choose: Restore Balance or Restore Life. Reward: Unknown.

Jinwoo stared at the text until it faded. Then at his own hands. Hands that had failed to hold her when it mattered.

He tucked the key Bellion handed him into his palm. It pulsed faintly with energy—cold and ancient.

Jinwoo turned back toward the edge of the rooftop. The world below glowed with life. Unaware. Unafraid.

And in his heart, there was a hunger. Not the kind Raizel or Antares had. But something raw. Desperate.

He would burn through Raizel’s domain. He would tear down the walls of eternity itself if it meant bringing her back. No matter the cost.

No matter who stood in his way.

“Prepare the army,” Jinwoo said coldly. Bellion’s wings spread wide in answer. “It’s already done, my King.”

Jinwoo’s lips curved into something that was not a smile. “I’m going to bring her home.”

And this time, he wouldn’t be too late.

<< Chapter 12 | Chapter 14 >>

And at the forefront stood the Shadow Army. Ten thousand strong. Silent. Unflinching. Giants towered over mountains, the air thick with Tusk’s arcane incantations. Bellion, Igris and Beru knelt at Jinwoo’s side, their auras blazing in anticipation.

And standing just behind him was Y/N.

Her scythe rested over her shoulder, and at her feet was a massive, slumbering shadow—her dragon. Its pitch-black scales shimmered with deep violet veins, its breath rumbling like distant thunder.

She whispered to the dragon, “Be ready.”

The portal in the sky pulsed ominously, dark tendrils spilling out, distorting the air itself. And then— A tear ripped through the clouds.

He came.

Antares arrived like a black sun blotting out the heavens. Wings outspread, talons sharp enough to rend continents, his descent cracked the earth itself. His molten glowing red eyes swept the battlefield with disdain.

And then, they settled on Jinwoo.

“You’ve gathered quite the resistance,” Antares said, his deep voice like the grinding of mountains.

Jinwoo stood tall, unmoved. “They’re not here for me. They’re here to protect what matters.”

Antares chuckled. “Protect? When the end is inevitable?” He spread his claws wide, gesturing toward the swirling abyss above. “The Primordial Hunger stirs. Even if you kill me, you’ve already lost.”

Jinwoo tightened his grip on his blade. “I haven’t lost anything yet.”

Antares tilted his head, his gaze shifting—landing on Y/N.

She froze.

Her shadow dragon rose, snarling low at the Dragon Monarch. Antares’ interest piqued. “You,” he murmured. “The Balance Keeper. Ashborn’s broken anchor.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “I’m not broken.”

She wasn’t ready for the sheer heat of that stare. It was like staring into the heart of an active volcano. Her chaotic brain, ever unhelpful, whispered: Majestic Daddy Dragon… Which was immediately followed by her own mental slap: Stop that!

But Antares noticed. Of course he did. Instead of fear, he found curiosity. Sparkle.

Antares gave a slow, cruel smile. “Perhaps not. But you will be.” he said, voice lowering as if it was a secret shared between them.

“I expected terror. But I see… fascination.”

But Jinwoo’s shadow swelled, and he took a deliberate step in front of her. “You will not touch her,” Jinwoo said, his voice dropping an octave.

Antares sighed. “A shame. She’s… intriguing.”

Antares’ offer came. Alliance. Partnership. Protection from the Primordial Hunger that was already stirring.

But Jinwoo refused. Exactly as Y/N knew he would.

And as Antares’ disappointment turned into lethal intent, Y/N found herself gripping her scythe tighter. This was it. The calm was over.

Jinwoo gave no warning. In a blink, he was in motion— Sword clashing against Antares’ talon in a blinding explosion of black and red.

The shockwave blew back the front line of Hunters. Tusk threw up shields of magic to hold the line.

Above them, titans clashed. Antares was relentless, his strength honed by eons of conquest. Jinwoo was faster, cutting deeper, shadow blades slashing like lightning strikes.

But it was not enough. Every time Jinwoo pressed forward, the portal tore wider behind Antares. The Primordial Hunger pulsed, screaming to be let loose upon the world.

Y/N didn’t stand still.

While Jinwoo fought Antares, she ran to the front lines. Hunters were falling, their ranks breaking under the weight of lesser dragons and corrupted beasts spilling from smaller tears. Y/N swung her scythe in wide arcs, cutting down monstrosities with brutal grace.

“Hold the line!” she shouted. Her dragon roared beside her, unleashing streams of black flame that consumed the enemy.

When a Hunter was about to fall, she was there. When a squad was about to break, she summoned shadow manifestations of ancient warriors, spectral heroes, and great beasts to bolster them.

But it wasn’t enough.

The monsters kept coming.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. But Y/N didn’t hesitate. She called forth more of her Shadow Manifestations—warriors she didn’t know, yet who stood for her as if they’d been waiting for the call their whole afterlife.

“You fight for me,” she whispered. “Then I fight for you.”

Y/N was everywhere. Her control of the battlefield was flawless.

And Antares noticed.

Through the corner of his eye, he watched as she rallied the broken, her dragon shielding the weak. The Balance Keeper… restoring the fragile thread between life and death, holding the tide back.

He sneered. “She’s interfering.”

But Jinwoo heard none of it. He was locked in a brutal exchange, his blade carving deep into Antares’ scales, his strength driven by something deeper—someone he couldn’t lose.

Antares roared, shifting back into his true form—massive wings blotting out the light. The heat of his flames scorched the land. The Shadow Legion roared in response. And Jinwoo’s shadows surged forward to meet him.

Jinwoo glanced once toward Y/N. And found her already staring at him.

He spoke through their minds. “I’m proud of you,” he said. And then, “Stay alive.”

Y/N’ throat tightened. “You too, idiot.”

And yet, the Primordial Hunger continued to awaken.

Y/N saw it. The portal above was too vast, too hungry. Even if Jinwoo defeated Antares, the world was moments away from being devoured.

And then it struck her.

Ashborn’s final battle. The memory of his agony as she gave her life to seal the rift. History was repeating itself.

Y/N bit her lip hard, her scythe trembling in her grip.

She turned back toward Jinwoo. He was fighting with everything he had. For her. For everyone.

Tears stung her eyes.

Jinwoo was struck hard by Antares.

He flew back, smashing into the ground with an explosion of debris.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She sprinted toward him, throwing herself down beside him.

He coughed, blood painting his lips. But his eyes were on her immediately, searching her face.

“You have to stay back,” he rasped. “I can do this.”

Y/N’ throat closed. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

Before he could react, she leaned in— And pressed her forehead to his. A soft, lingering moment in the chaos.

“I’m glad I met you,” she whispered, tears threatening. “You… you are my home.”

Jinwoo’s breath hitched. “Y/N, don’t—”

But she was already rising. Running.

The battlefield had descended into utter chaos. The skies tore open with gaping maws of endless blackness, spilling the influence of the Primordial Hunger. Portals bled into each other, rupturing reality as monstrous distortions clawed at existence itself. Even Antares, locked in deadly combat with Jinwoo, glanced up once— And smiled. “The beginning of the end,” he whispered with cruel satisfaction.

But Y/N had already made her decision.

She exhaled shakily, lifting her gaze to the sky. Her fingers trembled as she reached out, calling to the massive shadow coiled nearby. Her dragon responded instantly, rising from the ground with a thunderous roar that shook what little was left of the earth.

Y/N vaulted onto its back. Her scythe stabbed into the beast’s hide—not to harm it, but to anchor herself as they surged skyward. The dragon’s wings spread wide, obsidian membranes shimmering like oil on water as it carried her toward the heart of the apocalyptic storm.

Below them, the Hunters were frozen in place, gazes lifted. “Lady Y/N…” murmured one of the low-rank Hunters, eyes wide in awe.

“She’s going for the portal!” shouted another.

“She’s going to close it!”

A rallying cry rose from the ranks. Their voices shook with desperation and hope.

Beru and other shadows knelt in the dirt, his mandibles clicking anxiously. Bellion and Igris, battered but standing tall, silently lifted his sword toward the sky in salute.

As Y/N and her dragon climbed higher, the winds howled violently. The Primordial Hunger’s influence battered at her, tendrils of dark energy lashing at her skin. Blood streaked her cheeks, but she gritted her teeth and pushed forward.

“Just a little closer…” she murmured. The dragon’s muscles coiled tight as it reached the apex of its flight. With a final, guttural roar, it unleashed a torrent of shadowflame, scouring a path directly into the heart of the portal.

Y/N rose to stand atop the dragon’s neck, arms wide. Her scythe vanished in a ripple of shadow. In its place, black tendrils erupted from her fingertips—long, thick shadow chains, glowing faintly with ancient runes.

“Bind,” she commanded. Her voice was steady, though her body shook.

The chains shot outward, spearing into the edges of the largest rift in the sky. The entire world seemed to groan under the strain as the chains anchored themselves deep into reality’s seams. Then— She pulled.

Y/N screamed. Shadow energy exploded from her body in a shockwave that sent the dragon tumbling beneath her. But she did not fall. She hovered, suspended by sheer will.

The chains groaned and tightened, inch by agonizing inch, dragging the portal shut. Each moment was a battle. For every meter the portal closed, the Primordial Hunger pushed back twice as hard.

Blood poured from her nose and ears. Her vision blurred. But Y/N smiled through it all. “Not this time,” she whispered. “I’ll finish it.”

Below, the Hunters watched in stunned silence. They saw her glowing like a dying star, her dragon dissolving beneath her into black dust. And still, she pulled the chains tighter.

Relief and sorrow warred in their expressions. “She’s doing it…” whispered a Hunter. “She’s winning.”

But others wept openly. “She’s… she’s not coming back, is she?”

Jinwoo felt it the moment Y/N gave herself to the Balance Keeper’s duty. A tearing sensation in his chest, as if something inside him was being ripped away.

He roared, driving Kamish’s fang deeper into Antares’ hide. The Dragon Monarch snarled, retaliating with brutal fury— But Jinwoo was relentless. Fueled by desperation. By rage.

He drove Antares back, deeper into the broken ruins of what was once a city. Every strike Jinwoo delivered cracked the air itself, his shadows swarming in a black hurricane.

Antares smirked through the pain. “You’ve already lost her,” he hissed.

And Jinwoo snapped. He unleashed everything. Antares’ massive body was thrown back, smashing through the remnants of a skyscraper, pinned by a forest of shadow spears.

Jinwoo didn’t wait. He turned and sprinted toward the sky.

The portal was closing. The chains had nearly finished their work. The sky was clearing.

But Y/N— She was falling.

Her dragon was gone, disintegrated into stardust. And she followed, her body fragmenting into particles of light and shadow. Each breath she took scattered her essence a little more.

Jinwoo’s heart stopped.

He leapt. Shadow teleportation blurred his form as he raced to catch her before she was lost.

“Y/N!” he shouted. Her gaze found him, dazed but soft. She smiled. “We did it.”

He caught her— But there was nothing solid. Her form dissolved against his chest, leaving faint warmth and motes of light behind.

“No. No, no, no… Please... not like this…” Jinwoo’s hands scrambled to hold her together, but his fingers passed through smoke and fading light.

And she was gone.

The portal sealed behind her, its edges stitched closed by shadow chains that dissolved into the ether.

Hunters dropped to their knees, some crying and roaring out in relief, others in grief. They had won. The world was saved.

But the cost…

Jinwoo stood in the center of the ruin, arms empty, head bowed. Shadows swirled around him, restless and mourning.

The silence was deafening.

Jinwoo knelt there for a long time, hands still out as if cradling something that wasn’t there. His head bowed. His shadows stood frozen behind him, unmoving, silent in mourning.

He didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He simply… stopped.

The world was quiet. The battle was over. But the ache had only just begun.

And in the wind, A faint whisper: “I love you.”

His fists clenched. Tears dripped from his chin. But when he raised his head again, his eyes burned with purpose.

“I’ll find you, Y/N,” he swore. “Even if I have to tear through every realm to bring you home.”

And the Shadow Monarch took his first step toward a new journey.

<< Chapter 11 | Chapter 13 >>

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On the Association’s largest training grounds, the top Hunters were already at it—stretching, sparring, sharpening their reflexes. Among them were the absolute best: Sung Jinwoo. Cha Hae In. Liu Zhigang. Thomas Andre. Goto Ryuji. Lennart Niermann. Christopher Reed.

And there was Y/N, standing slightly apart, quiet but unmistakably there. Not a licensed Hunter. No official ranking. But she was here. She’d fought alongside Sung Jinwoo, cutting through monsters like a scythe through paper.

Some whispered. Some stared. Y/N ignored it.

Because it might be.

“Time to pair up,” Go Gunhee’s voice boomed across the field. “Choose wisely. Push each other. We need to be faster. Stronger. Smarter.”

Cha Hae In was already walking toward Jinwoo.

“I’d like to spar with you,” she said, polite and composed. “You’re the strongest. I’ll test my limits against the best.”

Y/N sighed and crossed her arms. Of course. The main couple vibes are strong today.

As Hae In and Jinwoo faced each other in the middle of the field, Y/N’ thoughts spiraled.

“Cha Hae-In is the perfect partner for Jinwoo, I can’t deny that. The silent, noble knight type. Total power couple material. But if we’re going practical, Joonhee is the best choice. She’s been there from the start! When Jinwoo was still weak, rank E, practically jobless. That’s loyalty! Ride or die! Dammit! Why is it always the blonde beauty?!” She glared at Hae In’s gleaming hair. “What about dark-haired women?” Y/N flicked a strand of her own black hair. “Villainess energy right here! Hmph!”

Jinwoo and Hae In stood opposite each other on the sparring mat. No weapons. Just hand-to-hand combat. Raw speed. Raw strength.

The two of them were like shadows and light, moving so quickly most eyes couldn’t follow.

But… Jinwoo’s attention wasn’t entirely on Hae In. His gaze kept flicking toward Y/N. Who, at that very moment, was chatting and smiling with Liu.

Jinwoo blocked Hae In’s strike a second too late. Her fist grazed his jaw.

“Distracted?” she asked, arching a brow. “Eyes over here, Sung Jinwoo.”

Jinwoo exhaled through his nose. He refocused… mostly. But the territorial flare in his eyes was hard to miss.

Meanwhile,

It was Liu Zhigang. The strongest hunter in China and one of the five National Level Hunters, ranking 2nd in the world. And he was smiling. At her. Golden eyes gleaming, like he was sizing up his next favorite person. “We meet again.” he said smoothly. “It would be a pleasure to spar.”

Y/N blinked. Externally? She tilted her head, gave a tiny, polite nod, and said, “Sure. I’ll go easy on you.” Voice calm. Totally collected. Cool as a cucumber.

Internally? System Notification: “Y/N.exe has stopped working.” Her brain slammed the red “EMERGENCY” button. Sirens were going off. Cue the internal screaming cat meme: “AAAAAAA!” Her inner self was slamming her fists on a table screaming, “NOTICE ME SENPAI!” And somewhere in the back of her mind? A tiny version of her was ugly crying while waving a Liu Zhigang body pillow.

Get it together, she screamed at herself, pasting a composed expression on her face. She was a professional. A fighter. Not some fangirl. (But oh, she was absolutely going to write about this in her diary later.)

Their spar began. He was fast. Fluid. But Y/N was ruthless.

Liu was fast. Precise. His strikes were surgical. But Y/N fought differently—more like someone used to reacting on instinct, unpredictable and fluid.

She ducked under a jab, sidestepped a low sweep, then planted a sharp punch right in his ribs. He grunted, stepping back. Then she spun, kicking his leg out from under him. He hit the ground hard.

And Jinwoo… Jinwoo was done watching. His spar with Hae In ended abruptly when he shoved her back gently but firmly. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I need to switch.”

Hae In’s brows knit together. “Distracted again?” she asked, half amused, half exasperated. “Careful. One of these days, that’s going to cost you.”

But Jinwoo wasn’t listening anymore. He was already stalking toward Y/N.

“Switch,” Jinwoo told Liu flatly.

Liu raised a brow but backed off with a shrug.

Y/N blinked.

Then Hae In called. The blonde stood ready, calm and focused. “Y/N, Let’s spar.”

Y/N cracked her knuckles. “Thought you’d never ask.”

No weapons. Just raw skill.

They circled each other, the tension thick. Hae In struck first—clean and fast. A palm aimed for Y/N’ shoulder. Y/N slipped under, pivoting, and aimed a knee at Hae In’s ribs.

Blocked.

They moved like dancers—fluid and graceful. Strike. Block. Counter.

Y/N smiled. “You’re good.”

“You’re better than I thought,” Hae In admitted.

Then Hae In pushed harder, her sword aura flickering around her fists even without a blade. She punched, and the air shuddered. Y/N blocked, sliding back, feet skidding across the dirt.

Y/N’ grin widened. “Now we’re talking.”

She darted forward, ducked low, and swept Hae In’s legs. Hae In flipped mid-air and landed on her feet.

Then they both lunged. Fists clashed. Shockwaves cracked the ground.

The other hunters stopped to watch. Even Chrispher Reed whistled in appreciation. “These women,” he muttered, impressed.

They shared a faint smile. For a moment, there was peace.

Y/N blinked as the tremor rolled through the training ground like a localized earthquake. Loose tiles cracked. Dust sprayed into the air. Nearby Hunters stumbled back, some scrambling for balance.

Boom!

A shockwave ripped through the air, and the noise that followed was like a thunderclap inside an enclosed space.

And there he was. Sung Jinwoo. Standing in the middle of the wreckage… With Liu still struggling to get back on his feet.

And then there was Y/N.

Already seated cross-legged on the sidelines, her face puffed out like an annoyed chipmunk, a juice box stuck firmly in her hands.

SSSSLURP.

She sucked aggressively through the straw, the noise cutting through the calm like a sword slash. Her eyes squinted ever so slightly as she glared at the two national-level hunters like they owed her rent.

The sparring session had left everyone winded but strangely satisfied. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, offering a brief sense of accomplishment and unity. Even Y/N found herself smiling, stretched out on the training field, towel draped over her head, watching Jinwoo.

This isn’t so bad, she thought, chest warming.

But peace never lasted. And far away, behind the veil of dimensions, unseen eyes watched.

In the space between realms, where no life should exist, an ancient presence stirred.

A massive throne of fused bone and molten obsidian floated in the dark. Coiled upon it, like a slumbering cataclysm, was Antares, the King of Dragons. His wings folded tightly against his body, his molten gold eyes half-lidded as he listened.

Below him, circling the ruins of a once-great battlefield, were his Ancient Dragons—each one older than the Monarch War, older than the age of men. Titans of scale and fury, their voices echoed in a guttural tongue that made the void itself quake.

“The Balance Keeper walks,” growled Kardum, a dragon with iron plates covering his head like a war helm. His voice sounded like continents grinding together. “The girl.”

“Y/N,” spat Zerathul, his scales oozing venom as his long neck twisted toward Earth’s pale glow. “She stands with the Shadow Monarch… the Ashborn’s heir.”

“The others are dead,” rumbled Veyraxis, the oldest of them all. Her wings were torn, ancient wounds that had never healed. “Ashborn. Beast. Plague. Frost. All gone.” Her teeth bared in a grin of bone and rot. “But we remain.”

Antares slowly opened his eyes. They glowed with smoldering fire.

“You remain because I remain,” he said softly, though his voice carried the weight of inevitable ruin.

The dragons fell silent, watching their king. Antares rose from his throne, each movement like a continent rising from the sea. His gaze drifted to the image of Earth, suspended before them—a fragile blue jewel against endless black.

“She is the last piece,” Antares said. “The Balance Keeper. The one Ashborn hid from us all.”

“She does not know,” Kardum said, flexing his talons. “She doubts,” hissed Zerathul. “She falters,” Veyraxis added.

Antares smiled. “Good.”

A clawed hand hovered over the floating image of Y/N. “Break her balance… and the Primordial Hunger awakens. A force even I do not control.”

Zerathul’s slit eyes gleamed. “Then why summon it?”

Antares' wings unfolded like a shadow blotting out a sun. “Because when the Hunger fully awakens… there will be nothing left to balance. No rulers. No monarchs. No armies.” His gaze hardened. “Only dragons.”

The dragons hissed their approval, fire leaking from their mouths.

“Prepare the legions,” Antares ordered, his voice a promise of extinction. “We will burn their world. We will break the Balance Keeper.”

“And if the Shadow Monarch stands in our way?” Kardum asked, baring obsidian teeth.

Antares laughed, deep and cruel. “Then he will fall beside her.”

The dragons roared their agreement. Their wings spread wide as they took flight into the void, each one dragging with them an army of horrors.

The war had begun.

Dear Diary,

(Or as I like to call you: my therapist I don’t have to pay. >:) )

I’m in trouble. Not dungeon-trouble. Not "oh no, the world is ending" trouble. Worse. I am in romantic trouble.

I think… I might be falling for Sung. Jinwoo. (!!!) And I know what you’re gonna say: “But Y/N, you’re the quirky side character who crashes into portals and accidentally teleports into showers. He’s the main lead! The hero! You’re just a guest star in this world!”

EXACTLY. I was supposed to root for him and Cha Hae In, maybe cheer from the sidelines while eating popcorn and dodging ice spears. NOT… get confused because he keeps doing these things.

Like yesterday.

We were training. (Which I agreed to because I’m not a coward… okay, I was bribed with snacks but that’s not the point.) And I tripped. Like a loser. (Classic me.) But instead of laughing or stepping over my face like a normal apex predator, Jinwoo caught me. And—listen carefully—he tucked my hair behind my ear. BEHIND. MY. EAR. WHO DOES THAT?! And his hand lingered, like he was memorizing my face. I don’t even know what face I was making but I’m pretty sure it was somewhere between "blinking goldfish" and "loading screen."

I thought, “Okay, cool, maybe I imagined it.” But then today, he made me tea. Like, actual tea. With honey. Because “you’ve been pushing yourself lately.” BRO. He noticed. He’s not supposed to notice! I’m not even his type! Right? I mean, Cha Hae In is literally a goddess with silky blonde hair and sparkly vibes. I’m over here in all black looking like I’m about to kick someone’s shin in a villainess cosplay.

AND THEN—get this—he smiled. Like, softly. At me. And I felt my brain rebooting. If he keeps this up, I might actually… Nope. No. Not happening.

I’m a side character. This is temporary. He’s just nice. Like, super nice. Dangerously nice. The kind of nice that makes you think about stuff. Like… cuddling. And holding hands. And— NOPE. We are NOT going there.

But if he does the ear-tuck thing again, I’m suing. Or kissing him. (I need help.)

Send snacks. And maybe a reality check. Or a portal home. Preferably not cracked.

Sincerely,

Y/N

<< Chapter 10 | Chapter 12 >>

Inside Jinwoo’s apartment, it was oddly quiet. Y/N sat curled up on the couch, legs tucked under her, staring at the faint reflection of herself in the dark window. She’d been quiet like this since the last battle. Not just tired, but distant.

Jinwoo watched from the kitchen, leaning one hip against the counter. He held two mugs, debating if she’d even want the hot chocolate he made her. She loved it. She always said it reminded her of home.

But she didn’t turn around. Didn’t smile. Didn’t even react when Beru peeked his head through the door with an awkward little wave. (She usually laughed when Beru did that.)

He sighed and crossed the room.

“You’re thinking too much again,” Jinwoo said quietly, setting one mug down in front of her. She blinked, as if pulled from deep water. “Sorry,” Y/N muttered. She curled her hands around the mug but didn’t drink.

Jinwoo sat down across from her, elbows on his knees. Her silver eyes flicked up and met his for a moment. “I’m not from here,” she said. “I keep asking myself why I’m even here at all.”

“You’re here because I summoned you,” Jinwoo said, his tone carefully neutral. “You’re my reward.”

“That sounds so... dehumanizing,” Y/N said, a dry laugh escaping her lips. But it didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’re more than that.” Jinwoo’s voice was lower now. His fingers curled tight on his knee. “You’re not just a reward,” he added. “You’re my wild card.”

She snorted. “Yeah. A wild card. Something unpredictable. Dangerous.”

“You saved people,” Jinwoo said. She flinched.

“But,” she whispered, “what if I’m the reason people die next time?”

Jinwoo leaned forward. His gaze was steady, dark eyes holding hers like iron chains. “If anything tries to make you the reason people die,” he said slowly, deliberately, “I’ll destroy it.”

She stared. And Jinwoo realized—he meant it. Every word. He’d burn the world for her.

Y/N sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Her fingers tightened around her mug. “You’re dangerous, Jinwoo,” she whispered and chuckled. “You make it hard for me to think straight.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Why?”

She bit her lip. “Because... if I stay here too long, I’ll stop wanting to go back.”