A New Routine
The moment he experiences death, as always, he awakens from a dream. Woojin's eyes snapped open.
'…I never get used to this.'
Within the dream, he glimpses another person's memories. It had happened countless times before… yet the experience was so bizarre that he still couldn't grow accustomed to it.
Woojin rubbed the back of his neck and slowly sat up. Perched on the edge of the bed, he reviewed the memories of the dark-side priest he had just experienced.
Then—
A loud bell rang outside the room. The sound of brass being struck with a hammer. It was the alarm announcing wake-up time.
'Time to get ready.'
He carefully straightened his clothes. A single mistake could expose his identity.
Woojin's arms, legs, and face were completely covered in dragon scales. If discovered, it would put him in a difficult position. Fortunately, the dark-side priests concealed their entire bodies beneath robes, masks, and wrist guards.
Why did they insist on dressing this way? Woojin roughly inferred the reason.
'Wearing masks, always hiding their bodies… at some point, they must have boiled away their humanity.'
Living without revealing oneself dries up emotion and erodes one's identity as a human being. They existed merely as tools that moved according to orders.
'I'm pretty sure I put it around here.'
Feeling along the inside of his robe sleeve, he located a hidden inner pocket. Inside were a dagger curved like a ripple and a single brooch.
The brooch was engraved with the number 308.
It was both the boy's name and his rank. When dark-side priests attended gatherings, they fastened this badge to their chests to distinguish one another.
After securing it firmly to his robe, he stepped outside without hesitation.
'I'm slightly late.'
Most of the believers had already assembled in formation. Just like during the previous night patrol, the dark-side priests stood grouped in five columns. Woojin slipped quietly into the ranks.
Before long, the front line began to move. Like soldiers marching in formation, the believers synchronized their steps.
They headed toward a massive cathedral located at the center of the city—a building the dark-side priests of this region regarded with particular importance. Together with the surrounding believers, he entered inside.
Woojin could already guess what would happen next.
'Morning prayer time.'
An exasperating ritual endured every single day.
As he sat in a chair, stretching his jaw in a wide yawn, a high priest wearing a golden mask stepped onto the podium.
The recitation began.
"Behold the law that came from beyond the Veil. And behold the great beings! Beneath their radiant shadows, we dare to beg that our fate be entrusted…"
The high priest droned on for quite some time.
Thinking there might be meaningful information hidden within the prayer, Woojin forced himself to concentrate and listen carefully.
But his focus didn't last long.
'This is mind-numbingly dull.'
He couldn't understand why they gathered so many people at the crack of dawn for this.
Were the others even listening seriously? He glanced sideways at those around him… but everyone wore masks, making it impossible to read their expressions.
Woojin closed his eyes and dozed lightly. Time passed surprisingly quickly that way.
"…He is always by our side."
As the high priest spoke those words, the seated believers echoed in unison.
"He is always by our side!"
The shout reverberated throughout the entire cathedral, ringing loudly enough to snap Woojin's eyes open.
He looked around.
The believers were rising from their seats en masse. It seemed the morning prayer had ended. Woojin followed suit, stretching his stiff body.
He thought they would head outside—
But instead, the believers began descending a staircase in groups. The stairs led to an underground space. Woojin suddenly sniffed the air.
'That smells like food.'
The morning prayer must have run slightly longer than usual, and they were providing food immediately afterward.
As they descended, dense shadows greeted the believers. Torches embedded here and there cast flickering light, guiding their steps.
Starting from those at the front, each person received breakfast in turn. The line moved quickly, and soon it was Woojin's turn.
Swish.
The dark-side priest at the serving table silently held out a wooden bowl. Woojin accepted it and examined its contents.
A few thin slices of meat, purple leaves, and a lump of dark red bread. The bread was made from grain cultivated in the demonic realm.
'It doesn't look particularly appetizing.'
The appearance alone dulled his appetite.
Even after receiving food, they couldn't eat immediately. Only after every believer had been served would they begin their meal together. That was the custom of the dark-side priests.
Those who had already received their portions sat down and waited patiently until distribution was complete.
'There's really nothing about this place I like.'
Woojin grumbled inwardly, leaning against a wall as he waited.
After a short while—
"…Lights out."
The dark-side priest who had been distributing the food spoke. Immediately, every torch was extinguished, plunging the space into complete darkness.
"Begin the meal."
The same voice sounded again. In response, the believers began to eat.
A meal in darkness.
To eat, they had to remove their masks—inevitably exposing their faces. That would violate the principle that believers must never reveal themselves to one another.
Thus, they dined in the dim underground chamber so no one could see another's face.
'Let's try it.'
He bit into the crimson bread first, chewing several times to savor the taste.
It had the texture of cold steamed buns. While waiting for distribution, the food had cooled completely. And perhaps because the grain had been grown on blood, each bite carried a metallic, bloody scent.
'…Even so, it's edible enough.'
Though it had many flaws, even obtaining such food in the deeper regions of the demonic realm was no easy task.
After roughly finishing his meal, he waited until everyone else was done. Since it wasn't food worth savoring slowly, the others also finished quickly.
Before long, breakfast concluded. The torches flared back to life, and the believers climbed back to the surface.
From then on, each person had to attend to their assigned duties.
The dark-side priests dispersed throughout the city to carry out their work. Woojin likewise took over the task assigned to No. 308.
'Overseeing the slaves.'
Whipping the slaves and forcing them into labor. It was a somewhat tedious and troublesome job, but No. 308 had accepted it gladly.
He headed straight to the work site.
Iron ore lay piled up like a mountain. The slaves sitting before it had been enjoying a brief rest, but upon noticing Woojin approach, they hurriedly scrambled to their feet.
The slaves watched him nervously, tense and wary. Woojin felt no particular pity for them.
'They're far from innocent themselves.'
The slaves had once been candidates to become believers. Having consumed multiple inner cores of demonic beasts, they possessed strength far beyond ordinary people—and equally wicked dispositions.
Just because someone is weak does not mean they are good.
They had merely fallen behind due to a lack of strength and ability. If a supervisor so much as looked away for a moment, they would not hesitate to commit murder or even cannibalism.
"Stop loafing and get started."
As Woojin sat down and gave the order, the slaves hurriedly grabbed their hammers.
Clang!! Kkang!
They swung with all their might, smashing the iron ore. To refine iron, the ore had to be broken down into small fragments by hammering. After crushing it and separating out the worthless stones, the remaining ore would be washed with water to filter out impurities. Once that was done, the refined ore would be transported to a large furnace.
This city was a major stronghold built for the mass production of weapons.
'We must prepare for the Holy War.'
The high priest often repeated those words.
Just as the Religious Alliance prepared an expeditionary force for its northern campaign, the dark-side priests were also producing troops and steel weapons in preparation for war.
But the process had not gone smoothly. Several incidents had occurred recently.
'That dragon abomination dealt a heavy blow.'
Fanatics had once attempted to resurrect a dragon, causing a massive disaster. As a result, the forward bases established by the dark-side priests had been utterly destroyed.
Meanwhile, though the Religious Alliance had clashed with the Nol tribe, they eventually reconciled and formed an alliance.
Thanks to that, their expedition was being prepared as if carried by favorable winds. An unexpected setback—one that left the dark-side priests deeply shaken.
'But they won't just sit back and take it.'
They were surely preparing something.
Woojin planned to remain in this city for a while, gathering information in order to uncover the hidden dagger the dark-side priests were concealing.
The method was simple.
'Rise to a higher rank.'
The higher one's position, the greater the access to information and privileges. He intended to push No. 308 forward and approach the core of the dark-side priests.
Overseeing the slaves was merely a stepping stone.
"…Hey."
Woojin suddenly spoke. The slaves, who had been working, turned their heads toward him.
"Don't try any half-baked tricks. Work fairly. I can see some of you picking only the easy tasks like rats."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
The slaves hurriedly switched places. Some men practically snatched the hammers away, allowing those who had been swinging nonstop to catch their breath.
There's always someone lower at the bottom.
Even among the slaves, they divided themselves into ranks, pushing the dirtiest and hardest labor onto the weaker ones. Woojin didn't merely watch—he intervened from time to time.
'Should I use the whip too?'
To appear more natural, he might need to crack it occasionally—but Woojin had never used such a tool before.
As practice, he swung it once through the air.
Boom!!
The tip blurred for an instant, and a split second later, the air exploded. A phenomenon commonly known as a sonic boom. The whip was the first weapon ever to break the sound barrier.
In Woojin's hand, such an object transformed into a devastating killing instrument.
'Definitely shouldn't use this on the slaves.'
One strike would probably kill them.
With that thought, Woojin fastened the whip back at his waist. He briefly worried what might happen if the slaves disobeyed—but the concern proved unnecessary.
"Eek… Hiiik…"
The slaves, having witnessed the terrifying crack of the whip, were thoroughly frightened. Their pace of work visibly increased. Even those who normally didn't get along began cooperating to finish the job quickly.
Woojin nodded at the sight.
'They're handling it well enough.'
There seemed to be no need for him to intervene further.
He sat down atop a large chunk of iron ore as if it were a chair, pulled out a strip of dried boar meat from his robe, and began chewing. He could pass the spare time like this.
He organized his plans in his head.
'The ranking duel is in two days.'
Once a week, a ranking match was held. There, he would defeat a higher-ranked believer and secure a stepping stone to greater status.
'If I win too overwhelmingly, it'll draw attention… I'll need to control my strength.'
Better to practice beforehand.
With that in mind, Woojin repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fist, adjusting his strength—when suddenly he felt a gaze and looked up.
Far away, atop the roof of a spire, a flying squirrel was staring down at him.
'So you snuck into the city too.'
He gave it a small wave. The squirrel startled and quickly disappeared behind the rooftop.
It must have thought the distance was great enough that its presence wouldn't be noticed. The sight was rather adorable, and Woojin let out a quiet chuckle.
'What should I name you?'
He might as well spend his spare time thinking of one. It seemed he'd be seeing that little creature for quite a while.
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