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Though he wanted to catch his breath, or rather rest completely, he was forced to stand as he looked back to see the knight beginning to rise to their feet, having their silver-and-gold armor dyed in their own arterial fluid.

"Guess it makes both of us, huh…?" He said out loud.

I\'m going to die anyway if I don\'t do this…At least this way, it\'s possible to live: Sage Period, activate! He thought.

The glossy, emerald eyes he possessed were inhabited by the augmentations of Sage Period, giving him his heightened perception, among other benefits–though it meant a singular blow could spell the end for him.

For a humanoid enemy, and at a critical time like this for a battle that would be settled in the next confrontation, he put his trust in his assassin abilities rather than martial arts.

"One fell swoop," those were the words he embodied going into this final clash.

Combine: "Blink Step", "Ripper", "Dark Edge", "Twilight Cutter"...He commanded.

With that forge of skills melded into one, he gathered his breath properly, gripping his daggers with his blood-soaked hands as he watched the silver-armored humanoid rush towards him once more.

​ …If I mess up the timing, I\'m dead. If this doesn\'t kill it, I\'m dead. So basically…let\'s do this right, Jeong-Hui, he thought.

Waiting for the knight to draw in a meter closer, no more, no less–he stepped forward, disappearing from view.

"Death By A Thousand Moonlit Cuts."

[Spirit: -200]

"Death By A Thousand Moonlit Cuts."

[Spirit: -200]

"Death By A Thousand Moonlit Cuts."

[Spirit: -200. Remaining Spirit: 900/3500]

Three times in succession, he cast the newly-forged skill, leaving the knight stagnant in its path before–one dozen…two…three..four…ten…twenty–an uncountable number of dark, violet slashes flashes around the half-portioned chamber.

In total, three-hundred-and-sixty slashes were left as he exerted himself to his limit, utilizing the instantaneous speed of [Blink Step], the amplification of [Dark Edge] and [Twilight Cutter], and the potent killing power of [Ripper].

The result was a spell that strained his body beyond its limits, but allowed him to momentarily enter a state of explosive swiftness as the innumerable slashes were left on the knight\'s body.

After finishing the assault, he immediately crashed against the ground harshly from coming off of such speed, coughing up blood as his body felt as if it were shutting down.

[Health: -200. Remaining Health Points: 540/3200]

It was loss from simply the exertion of his body, causing him to continuously hack up blood, but worse could be said for his foe:

The knight stood motionless for a moment before exploding into mincemeat from the aftermath of the dark slashes, leaving a rain of blood befalling the glass floor.

["Divine Knight: Desolice" Defeated. EXP + 1000 | 4700/1200 | Minor Health Potion Acquired]

[Assassin Proficiency: +5 | Level 29]

More than the experience, the sight of the rare restorative item being found prompted him to immediately call upon it without missing a beat.

"Item: Minor…Health Potion…!" He commanded.

As the small vial of pinkish red liquid manifested into his grip, he dropped it into his mouth, swallowing it before gasping out, coughing from drinking it so fast.

[Health Points: +1000 | 1540/3200]

It was enough to turn his cauterized, nasty wound into a mostly-healed cut, and give him enough energy to return to his feet, though still exhausted beyond any previous experience.

"...I made it…but, the others…!" He remembered.

Though to his surprise, it seemed the defeat of his knight signaled the walls to come down, leaving him waiting anxiously with heavy breaths, unknowing of what he would see on the other side.

What he saw caused him to freeze.

"Yeong-Un…! Stay with me!--Yeong-Un…!"

It was Sol, crying as his silver spear, which was covered in blood, sat beside him. The hazel-haired, youngest of their group was on his knees directly beside Yeong-Un, who was laid out on the glass floor on a puddle of blood.

"...What…?" He muttered out, forcing the singular word through the lump caught in his throat.

Sol turned to him with eyes streaming tears, covered in blood that was a mixture of the fallen knight, who looked to be a twin of the one he defeated, and from the laid-out friend of theirs.

It likely didn\'t result in any experience for him since it was technically a "separate battle", designated by the walls: though party members shared experience, they had to partake in the same battle to do so.

But, he didn\'t even think about that.

"Jeong-Hui…Please, he needs help!" Sol told him.

He immediately broke free from the frozen fear clinging to his body as he rushed to Yeong-Un\'s side as well, seeing the wound inflicted on his wild-haired friend.

A hole had pierced right through his abdomen, likely destroying his innards.

"Jeong-Hui…?" Sol said his name desperately, holding Yeong-Un\'s head up for stability with arms soaked in blood.

What should I do? What can I do? How? How? What? No. No. Not again. Not again. Not again! He thought.

Memories of the dreadful stay at the cultists\' base flooded into his mind; images of his past comrades\' fallen, desecrated corpses filled his mind as he froze in horror.

…It\'s happening again, he thought.

"Jeong-Hui!"

–It was Sol that snapped him out of it, shaking him by the shoulders as he was brought face-to-face with his friend that was just as terrified as him.

"What…?"

"...I-I need you to go ahead–! Look for a potion, or somebody that can heal him–please!" Sol urged him.

Despite the frequently cowardice-stricken man being such, he was the one who took initiative, forcing him to gather himself.

Looking down, he felt his heart drop as he could see Yeong-Un still conscious, though staring upward with eyes that likely didn\'t see them, and ears that didn\'t hear them.

"...Right! Keep pressure on that wound!" He told Sol.

Without wasting any time, he sprinted with the full strength of his legs, moving past human limits as he ventured down the corridor in search of something to save his friend.

What spurred him forward was regret; powerful, heart-wrenching regret.

If I just didn\'t drink that potion…! If I waited another minute–just another thirty seconds! This…It wouldn\'t be like this! He thought.

He felt an animosity towards his own well-being, scorning the fact he was living and breathing right now while his friend was left in such a state, but that regret lit a flame within him as he rushed forward with the instinct to save taking over.

Though it took a minute of running, listening to his wild heartbeat filling his ears, he found himself in a mostly-empty room.

The enemies waiting inside, armored fishman, were already defeated. By some miracle, he wasn\'t stopped by such foes, but instead, something else awaited–a situation he wouldn\'t know how to unravel.

The chamber was cleared by a familiar figure: a tall, dark-skinned man with shaggy, platinum hair and an unmistakably bright, yellow shirt without sleeves and massive gauntlets.

Maverick…? He thought, recognizing the tall, well-built figure.

Though Maverick had a solemn expression of his own, opening a chest that was present in the room.

The moment he saw what laid in the chest–a vial of pinkish-red liquid–he moved forward instinctively with a few successive [Blink Steps].

He intended to snatch it–right then and there, without any thought of the repercussions.

However, he stopped as his desperate, outreached hand was grabbed, stopped just inches short of taking the potion laid in the chest.

"...Jeong-Hui, was it? Sorry, but I need this right now," Maverick said solemnly, only just then looking back at him with pained eyes.

He didn\'t even respond, still stricken with shock and desperation as he spun around into a sharp kick against Maverick\'s cheek, freeing himself from his grip and causing the man to stumble back a few feet.

They faced each other, both intending to take the Greater Health Potion sitting in the brass-built chest.

Maverick didn\'t seem phased by the kick, standing tall with an expression contrary to his previous, jovial attitude he held in their first meeting.

"I\'m sorry," Maverick apologized quietly, "...By that crazed look in your eyes–the one we share–I can tell you really need that health potion, but…" the man looked up at him with tearful, yet resolved eyes as he clenched his fists, "I need it, too."

He finally spoke back to the platinum-haired American, yelling out in desperation as it felt as if every moment was fatal, "...My friend is dying! Just…let me have it!"

Maverick\'s expression wavered for a moment, but remained stiff and sturdy, "...Sorry to hear that, but I\'m in the same, shitty position as you."

He didn\'t expect those words, only expecting the reason for Maverick\'s pushback to be his own greed, but it was worse–it was something that he could feel intensely.

The resolve he had wavered as he felt his entire body trembling; tears strolled down his cheeks.

…If I do this, if I take this–I\'m leaving somebody else to die?

Even still, remembering his memories with his friend; the slumber party, the battles fought together, and even their meaningless chats, he clenched his fingers around the handles of his daggers, forcing himself to hold a stance.

"...I need it, Maverick–I\'m sorry, too."

"It\'s like that, then?" Maverick rolled his shoulders, exuding a slow, drawn-out breath, "...This is something neither of us can back down from. Something that has to be done. Yeah…I don\'t have any room for mercy right now–so don\'t blame me for what happens next."