Kang tightened. His spine stiffened, breath caught in his throat, eyes widening as the rumble beneath his feet grew heavier— too heavy. He muttered—shaken, confused—like someone waking from a nightmare they didn't know they'd been having:
"…huh… what was that…?"
The golem didn't wait.
Roots twisted.
Mud gathered.
The air bent.
Its arm rose—slow, deliberate—and a spear manifested from nothing.
Not metal.
Not wood.
Something in-between.
Alive.
Then—
THRUST—!!
The spear fired forward like a missile.
Straight for Kang's throat.
A millisecond.
One blink.
One heartbeat.
He didn't move.
He couldn't.
His body froze.
His mind froze.
Everything froze—
CLANG—!!
Steel crashed against steel.
A violent spark lit the entire forest.
A katana's edge blocked the spear at the very last possible frame.
Kwon.
Right in front of him.
Kang's eyes shook, vision blurring from the shockwave.
Her stance was low, blade pressed against the spear shaft, feet digging into the moss as cracks webbed beneath her boots.
She didn't look at the golem.
She didn't look at the spear.
She only looked at him.
Her voice snapped—irritated, furious, terrified—
but spoken like she was scolding a useless child standing in the road:
"I told you to stay behind me!"
Kang's throat clicked.
He stumbled back, breath hitching, legs turning weak as the reality hit him all at once.
The Kang from five minutes ago—the storm wielder, the calm warrior, the golden-eyed fighter—
was GONE.
What remained was Adam Joel.
Shaking.
Breathing wrong.
Eyes unfocused.
Mind collapsing.
His voice cracked, barely a whisper:
"I'm…
Going to
Die…"
Why?
Am I so afraid
The words left him without permission—
raw, fragile, painfully honest.
Kwon didn't even glance back.
Her teeth clicked sharply—
a frustrated kiss of annoyance.
"Shut up."
She shoved her body forward, blade sliding deeper against the spear's edge, the metal vibrating violently.
Roots around the golem tightened.
Kwon's legs bent lower.
Every muscle in her thighs tensed, visible even through her clothes.
"Will you calm down already—" she snapped through her teeth, voice tight with effort.
The golem pushed harder.
The spear dug down.
Kwon's boots skidded against the ground—
cracks split under her feet.
The forest floor trembled as she squatted lower, centering her weight, the katana and spear vibrating like two collapsing stars colliding.
Kang could barely stand.
He watched her—
a woman who shouldn't exist,
with no memories,
no class identified,
no idea why she could fight—
holding back a monster that could kill him with a sneeze.
Kwon inhaled sharply—
fighting to keep her blade steady as the spear pressed so close it grazed her cheek.
Her voice shook—not with fear, but with pure adrenaline:
"Kang…
if you're going to panic…
panic AFTER I stop this thing."
The spear cracked.
Her katana screamed under pressure.
And the golem leaned in—
closer, heavier, stronger—
The force was enough to crush a man's ribcage.
But Kwon held.
Alone.
Shaking.
Grinding her teeth.
Blades locked.
And Kang finally understood:
She wasn't a damsel.
She wasn't a side character.
She wasn't an NPC.
She was the only thing keeping him alive.
The spear pushed harder.
Kwon's heel cracked the stone beneath her.
And Kang whispered—quiet, trembling, pathetic:
"How are you so calm? I dont get it."
Kwon spat back instantly—
not unkind, just brutally honest:
"I'm not I never am."
And before he could breathe—
before he could think—
before he could even finish shaking—
The spear shattered.
Silence.
Then—
The golem jerked backward, landing with a heavy thud that shook loose chunks of bark and mud.
Kang's eyes widened.
His voice slipped out—quiet, stunned, unfinished:
…did it just…
He never got to finish the sentence.
Because the golem tilted its head.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Like a puppet realizing it had strings.
A long crack split down its torso—
not from damage…
from movement.
Then—
A sound crawled out of the opening.
Not a roar.
Not a growl.
A laugh.
Deep.
Wrong.
Hollow.
A laugh with no mouth.
No lungs.
No throat.
Something that had no reason to understand humour—
laughing anyway.
Kwon sucked in a sharp breath, blade trembling for the first time.
Sweat dripped down her chin.
Her chest rose too fast.
Her boots shifted back half an inch.
She bit down hard on her teeth, voice low and tight:
"What's so funny."
The golem's body convulsed once—
like it was amused.
Its golden veins pulsed brighter.
Kwon raised her katana again, breathing hard:
"This thing is such a pain."
Her legs shook.
Not from fear.
From the force of holding back something that should've killed them already.
The golem leaned forward—
roots cracking, joints twisting, eyes burning with a feral awareness.
Its laugh dragged out again, deeper this time—
as if mocking the fact they were still alive.
The golem didn't just move.
It changed.
A low, hollow laugh crawled out of its cracked torso—
a sound it shouldn't have been able to make.
A sound with no lungs, no throat, no purpose.
Its wooden body convulsed.
Roots twisted.
Mud peeled.
Bark folded inward like wet paper being crushed by invisible hands.
And then—
the entire thing shrank.
Collapsed.
Compacted into a misshapen ball of twisting limbs and pulsing golden veins.
Kang tightened instinctively, breath caught in his throat.
He had no idea what he was seeing.
The golem spasmed—
and launched upward.
Like a puppet yanked by a string.
Its hollow laughter echoed across the canopy as it spun wildly, reshaping itself midair.
Every rotation contorted its form further:
Bark bending like flesh,
roots stretching like tendons,
veins glowing like eyes.
When it finally stopped spinning, the forest fell silent.
Completely silent.
Hovering above them was no longer a golem.
It was a jester.
A floating wooden clown twisted into a grotesque carnival form:
A carved grin stretching too wide
Hollow golden eyes
Limbs dangling like broken marionette strings
And in its hand—
a jagged scythe twirled lazily in circles, carving thin arcs of distorted air.
The jester laughed again.
Light.
Sharp.
Mocking.
Like a festival sound dragged out of a nightmare.
Kang swallowed, stepping forward without thinking, fists trembling.
The creature's eyes flickered toward him.
Kwon didn't move.
She only stared at the jester—
expression calm, unreadable, almost detached.
Her breath was the first thing that broke the silence.
Slow.
Controlled.
Steady.
Dear Diary,
How many times have I done this?
How many times have I held you?
How many times have I used this blade?
Why do I feel so calm… so relaxed…
yet why does it always feel like hands are crawling across my skin?
What is this sensation?
Dear Diary…
why won't you tell me?
— Kwon Sohyun
The jester swooped down.
Laughing harder—
celebrating the moment—
as if eager to carve them apart.
Kwon finally moved.
Not back.
Not forward.
Just… up.
She lifted her sheathed katana to eye level, the motion slow and deliberate.
Her shoulders eased.
Her gaze sharpened.
Her stance lowered into something instinctive, graceful, frighteningly natural.
Kang felt the atmosphere shift.
The air around her tightened.
As if the world itself was holding its breath.
Kwon exhaled softly.
Her fingers slid along the hilt.
The jester descended, scythe raised—
a blur of twisted wood and manic laughter.
And with a voice so quiet it almost vanished into the wind—
she murmured:
"Sever."
The world stopped.
Leaves froze mid-fall.
Wind halted against the trees.
Kang's steps slowed into thick, heavy echoes.
Even the jester's cackle stretched unnaturally, trapped between moments.
Time melted.
Kwon's blade moved.
One draw.
One motion.
One line through existence.
SLASH.
A single arc of silver split the forest.
Silent.
Instant.
Absolute.
FLOOM—!!
A shockwave exploded outward.
Trees split cleanly down the middle—
dozens of them—
each bisected perfectly as if the world were opening like a book.
The jester stopped laughing.
For the first time, it seemed to understand something.
It turned its head slowly, staring at the devastation behind it.
Then back at Kwon.
Then down at its own body—
where a faint glowing line crawled from head to toe.
The creature didn't scream.
Didn't fight.
Didn't plead.
It simply lifted its hollow gaze to the sky—
as if acknowledging the inevitability of the moment—
and split apart.
Two halves falling silently toward the ground.
Cut clean.
Effortless.
Final.
The two halves of the jester fell.
Silence followed.
A silence deeper than anything the forest had allowed before.
Kwon lowered her stance…
and then, in a strangely clumsy motion—
she drew her katana back into its sheath.
Slowly.
Awkwardly.
As if the strength that guided her moments ago had simply vanished.
As if she had forgotten how to use a sword.
Click.
The blade settled.
Not a word was spoken.
Not by her.
Not by Kang.
Not even by the world around them.
The trees didn't rustle.
The wind didn't come back.
The dungeon didn't pulse.
Nothing.
Just a strange, heavy stillness.
Kang swallowed.
His thoughts brushed the surface of something he didn't want to admit:
—Who…
is she?
A soft chime shattered the quiet.
System Notification—!!
Floor 5 Clear!!
Reward : Wooden Control
Required Class : Mage
Mana / Magic Required : 60
The glowing text faded.
Kwon exhaled.
Only then did Kang notice the subtle tremble in her fingers.
Sweat beaded down her temple as she rubbed the side of her head—
tired, strained, like someone waking from a trance they never meant to enter.
She didn't collapse.
She didn't celebrate.
She just breathed.
Steady… but worn.
Kang finally stepped closer, unable to hold his awe back any longer.
He stared at her—
then at her katana—
then back at her.
His voice slipped out, soft and stunned:
"Hey."
Kwon blinked, turning her head slightly.
"You're really cool…"
He hesitated, almost embarrassed by his own honesty.
"…you know that?"
A pause.
He swallowed once more, eyes lingering on her blade—
"Kwon."
Kwon didn't respond immediately.
A soft breeze slipped through the clearing—
and her blonde hair lifted with it, strands brushing gently across her cheek.
Her red eyes caught the fading light.
They gleamed.
For a split second, Kang wasn't sure if he was looking at a warrior…
or something far stranger.
The sun dipped lower.
They both blinked—
—and the world shifted.
The forest vanished.
The trees.
The ruins.
The shattered trunks from her Sever—
all gone.
In their place:
A towering interior of spiraling roots and glowing sap-veins.
World Tree – Floor 6/100
They were back inside the dungeon.
Kwon stretched her arms above her head, her expression flattening as she let out a small, tired yawn.
She rubbed one eye lazily.
"I'm tired," she muttered, voice low and honest.
"That was way too long…"
A new chime rang.
System POP-UP—!!
Congratulations!
You leveled up!
Kwon Sohyun — Level 14 → Level 16
A warm glow wrapped around her body, lighting the area around her.
The soft gold washed over her hair, her skin, the red in her eyes—
turning her into something surreal for just a moment.
Kang stared.
He couldn't help it.
He knew it was just a leveling effect.
He knew the system made everyone glow like that.
But—
just this once,
he couldn't tell if the light was from the system…
or just her.
Maybe both.
Adam Joel had always been an oblivious one.
Kang didn't know how long he'd been staring.
Maybe a second.
Maybe longer.
Kwon didn't notice—
or didn't care—
as she lowered her arms and stretched again, her blonde hair falling messily over her shoulder.
For that brief moment, she looked almost…
gentle.
Alive.
Human.
A glow of beauty wrapped around her, soft and unintentional—
something even she didn't seem aware of.
But—
that beauty wouldn't last for long.
Not here.
Not in this tower.
Because some things in this world
didn't care about beauty.
Not in any form.
Not her hair.
Not her eyes.
Not her glow.
Not her humanity.
Because in the World Tree—
art is subjective.
And monsters will destroy anything they don't understand.
Even the beautiful.
Even the fragile.
Even her.