The air inside the mine was still heavy and metallic, but Yeon-woo's ragged gasps had settled into a quiet rhythm. Under the flickering gaslight, her long lashes fluttered, and her eyelids slowly lifted.
"Lieu...tenant...?"
Yeon-woo's voice was as parched as cracked earth. Her gaze drifted downward, coming to rest on my left hand. The crude bandages were already soaked through with seeping blood, forming a grotesque shape where three fingers should have been. Her pupils shook violently.
"Your hand... why... why is it like this? Was it... because of me...?"
I tried to hide my left hand behind my back. But it was too late. Yeon-woo struggled to pull herself toward me, forcefully dragging my mutilated hand into her sight. Thick tears fell from her eyes, dampening the stained bandages.
"You're an idiot... why did you do this? You should have just let someone like me die... why do you keep carving pieces of yourself away for me!"
Yeon-woo sobbed, weakly pounding my chest. I pulled her into a fierce embrace. With my one remaining good arm, I held her small shoulders as if I might crush them.
"Listen to me, Yeon-woo. You are the only trophy I've managed to pull out of this hell. You are the only trace left of my men, my brothers, who died in the mud. If you die... my world truly ends."
My voice broke. Yeon-woo buried her face in my chest and wept like a child. It wasn't hatred, resentment, or even a will to live—it was just the agonizing sorrow of having survived that crushed us.
We wept for a long time, pressing our wounds against each other. It was a bond forged in tragedy, but now we had become a miserable, symbiotic pair who couldn't even breathe without the other. Yeon-woo stroked the bloody bandages with a trembling hand.
"I'll live... even if I want to die, I'll endure this horrific life you gave me until the very end. So... please, don't get hurt anymore."
It wasn't so much a reconciliation as it was a desperate surrender.
Before Yeon-woo's tears could even cool on my cheek, the silence of the mine entrance was shattered by a sharp metallic roar.
Click-clack, Bang!
The gunshot echoing along the cavern walls had a familiar, horrific rhythm. It was the firing sound of the Hwan-guk 7th Corps rifles. The bastards had finally caught our scent and followed us even into the heart of this hell.
"Target sighted! Traitor Kang Jin-hyuk and deserter Lee Yeon-woo!"
The executioner's chilling voice rang out from the entrance. 'The Butcher' had already slipped into the shadows, extinguishing the gaslight as if mocking us. In the sudden, suffocating darkness, only Yeon-woo's trembling breath struck my ears.
"Lieutenant, they... they're here..."
Ignoring the agony of my severed fingers, I gripped my rifle with my right hand. Blood burst through the bandages, soaking the frame of the gun, but I didn't have the luxury to feel the pain.
"Yeon-woo, stay right behind me. Don't you dare let go this time."
I squeezed her wrist tight. My left hand, missing three fingers, was now as precarious as a hook, but I tightened my grip with the sole obsession of not losing her. We lunged toward a ventilation shaft connected deep within the mine. Behind us, the magic bullets of the execution squad pierced the rocks, scattering lethal shrapnel.
"Kill them! By the Emperor's command! Leave no one alive!"
The shouts of those who were once our comrades shook the cavern ceiling. Our motherland was trying to gift us a grave instead of a sanctuary. I ran through the dark, guided by the scent of blood. The warmth of Yeon-woo behind me was the only thread proving I was still human.
We were now standing on the edge of the precipice.
The end of the mine was a dead end. But there, it wasn't a wall that awaited us, but an abyss. Below our feet, a massive underground river surged with the roar of a beast, and the sheer cliff was submerged in a darkness whose end could not be seen.
"Stop right there, traitors!"
The footsteps of the Execution Squad drew close, echoing off the cavern walls. Dozens of magic lights pierced the darkness, aiming straight at us. There was no longer any room for choice. Either be captured and face a shameful execution, or throw ourselves into that black maw.
I looked back at Yeon-woo. My reflection in her eyes was that of a blood-soaked monster, but she no longer rejected me. Yeon-woo gripped the blunt, bandaged stump of my left hand firmly with both of her hands.
"Lieutenant... do you think there are wraiths under that water too?"
Yeon-woo asked with a faint smile. I wrapped my arm around her waist and took a step toward the edge of the precipice.
"I doubt it. It's too cold down there for ghosts to live. So... it'll just be the two of us."
"That's a relief. That it's just the two of us."
The moment the executioner's order to fire rang out, we threw ourselves into the void simultaneously. Thousands of bullets sparked and hissed above our heads, but we were already falling, defying gravity.
The sensation of my heart leaping into my throat, and the wind tearing at my eardrums. Even in that brief flash of falling, I did not let go of Yeon-woo's hand. No, I couldn't let go. Because the only salvation in this wretched war was trembling in my arms.
Just before the freezing river swallowed us whole, I closed my eyes for the last time.
The ice-cold water piercing my lungs snapped me back to consciousness. The river had spit us out without mercy, and when I came to, we were collapsed on a riverbank cluttered with mossy stones. The aura of the coniferous forest surrounding us was alien. This was not the landscape of Hwan-guk. The heavy concentration of mana floating in the air confirmed it—we had drifted into the very heart of the enemy nation, Aran.
"Yeon-woo... Lee Yeon-woo!"
I shook her drenched shoulders with my remaining right hand. She coughed up water and barely managed to open her eyes. We had survived, but now the number of people wanting us dead had doubled. Behind us was the motherland that abandoned us; before us was the enemy nation that would tear us apart.
"We have to live. Somehow..."
I spotted a dilapidated fishing boat abandoned on the shore and a single civilian house slumped nearby. Hanging there were heavy, coarse leather clothes typical of Aran civilians. Their clothing was characterized by high collars designed to shield them from exposure to the Holy Relic's energy.
I tore the rank insignia from Yeon-woo's uniform and dressed her in their clothes. Then, I unraveled my bloodied bandages and wrapped my left hand in the black cloth commonly used by Aran laborers. Each severed knuckle screamed in agony, but now this wound had to look like a 'laborer's accident' rather than a 'soldier's glory.'
"From now on, we aren't soldiers of Hwan-guk. You are my mute younger sister, and I'm a wandering laborer who mangled his hand in an accident. Do you understand?"
Yeon-woo nodded, her face pale. She stared blankly at the black cloth covering my missing fingers before smearing mud on her own face to erase any trace of a soldier.
And so, we discarded our names. Watching the blue-eyed augmented soldiers of Aran patrolling the village entrance, we stepped into the midst of our enemies, moving deeper into the darkness.