"What am I supposed to do with you?"
Cheon Areum muttered, his tone caught somewhere between exasperation and temptation.
"Yoon Seoyul… maybe we should take a break from each other. I already struggle enough trying to keep my distance, but then you start acting like this, and all it does is make me want to pin you down and keep you in bed forever."
The moment the words 'take a break' left his mouth, Yoon Seoyul's face drained of color. His grip loosened instantly, fingers slipping from Cheon Areum's wrist. He didn't wait to hear the rest—his expression hardened, every trace of warmth vanishing as seriousness snapped into place.
"We don't need a break. Worrying about you is a natural thing; it won't change even after a separation period."
"I'm saying you worry too much, Yoon Seoyul."
The dejection that flickered across his face made Cheon Areum's chest thumped rapidly. He closed the distance in an instant, arms loosening as they slid around Yoon Seoyul's neck, his expression softening into something pleased and unmistakably affectionate. With a small hop, he jumped up, wrapping his legs around Yoon Seoyul's waist. Yoon Seoyul caught him without hesitation, arms firm and steady, holding him close so he wouldn't fall—instinctively protective, just as he always was.
"Who's supposed to clear the dungeon if you keep acting like this and distracting me, hm?"
"I can't help it…"
Cheon Areum's fingers slid into Yoon Seoyul's hair, idly combing through it, tugging just enough to be playful. Amusement curved his lips, warmth flickering in his eyes, and before Yoon Seoyul could say anything else, Cheon Areum leaned in and pressed a light, unguarded kiss to his lips—brief, soft, and entirely unrepentant.
"I'm also struggling here; don't try to be all cute now."
Cheon Areum seized him in a deep, breathless kiss—as if he were pouring every unspoken thought into it. At the same time, he drew his energy inward, condensing it tightly within his body.
Then it happened.
A sharp, visceral pressure built beneath his skin—then bone began to force its way out. Wing bones tore through his back with a wet, brutal rip, shredding flesh and fabric alike. Dark red blood trickled down his spine as the skeletal frames expanded, unfurling with confidence. Black fur rapidly spread over the exposed bones, swallowing them whole, transforming raw structure into magnificent black wings. Completing the conversion of energy into matter, the wings curved forward, wrapping around him like living extensions of his will. With a powerful sweep, he pulled himself back and shoved Yoon Seoyul away toward the front path, creating distance between them.
"We shall meet again, my love."
A strong gust burst from Cheon Areum's wings, sweeping across the ground and sending the scattered glass shards skittering and clanging together in sharp, ringing notes. The sound echoed briefly before fading into the vastness of the dungeon. Yoo Jihyeon offered a respectful farewell to his guild master, then turned and followed Yoon Seoyul toward the tunnel of contracting flesh. Each step was careful, boots sinking slightly into the disturbingly soft surface as they advanced, their figures slowly swallowed by the pulsating corridor.
Only once they vanished completely from sight did Cheon Areum look away. He scanned the surroundings one last time, confirming that no one else was in immediate danger. Satisfied, he reached out, hooked a finger into the hood of Han Kakta's jacket, and with a powerful beat of his wings, lifted off toward the endless sands. His legs bent slightly as he flew, the barren expanse opening up beneath them.
"There has to be a better way!"
Han Kakta shouted the words into the rushing wind, clawing at his own front collar as it tightened dangerously around his throat. He struggled to keep his balance mid-air, half-dangling and half-dragged along, frustration clear in his voice as he fought not to choke while being hauled toward the sea of sand. It felt like being yanked out by a crane game—his body jerking helplessly, limbs dangling as if he were nothing more than a toy snagged by a metal claw. Entirely at the mercy of the one holding him.
Sensing his struggle at last, Cheon Areum adjusted his grip. He didn't let go entirely—only enough to stop the worst of it. With a controlled descent, he lowered Han Kakta safely, cushioning the fall and setting him down gently on the sand. Cheon Areum landed beside him a heartbeat later, wings folding in as the grains shifted softly beneath their feet.
Cheon Areum pressed his palms into the soft, warm sand and let himself sink slightly into it. With a playful flick, he rolled onto his back, letting the grains shift around him, molding to his body. His wings arched over him protectively, spreading wide enough to shield his form as he twisted gently, enjoying the rare freedom of open space and the comforting embrace of the sand beneath him. He had come out to play, and he intended to do just that.
Han Kakta rose to his feet, glancing down at Cheon Areum. With a quick brush of his clothes to shake off the sand, he spoke, calm but firm.
"As for the monsters, I have to eat them while they're still alive. So don't kill them."
Cheon Areum tilted his head, sitting up slightly before leaning back against the sand.
"You'll have to eat them? Digest the monsters into energy?"
Han Kakta nodded, unbothered by the question. Cheon Areum stretched his arms toward him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"On that note… give me another recharge. I'm almost out of energy."
"This quickly?"
Han Kakta muttered, a hint of complaint in his voice, but also quickly walked over. He grabbed Cheon Areum's extended arm and let his stored energy flow into him, warm and steady, replenishing him in an instant. As Han Kakta withdrew his hand, a small, snowy-white rabbit bounded forward from somewhere, hopping gracefully near Cheon Areum. Its crimson eyes locked onto his with unnerving intensity, unblinking, as if seeking some silent understanding.