The cliff edge felt like the edge of the world itself. The howls of the monsters grew louder, their wings casting monstrous shadows across the dark sky.
I could hear the desperate cries of the person below—their voice hoarse, weak, but still pleading for help.
Seonwoo was already moving towards the edge, oblivious to the danger. His hand reached for the rope I had tied earlier, his face set in determination.
I wanted to shout at him again, to stop him, but my own heart beat against my ribcage, urging me to trust him.
But this wasn't just any moment. The book had spoken. It had shown me a path. The man below wasn't just a victim of fate. He was part of the twisted cycle we'd just become tangled in.
The path Seonwoo was meant to take. It felt wrong to help him. But could we really just leave him to die? My hand gripped the book tightly, the words shifting and pulsing again in my mind.
I stepped forward, but my feet faltered. My thoughts spun. The book had told me Seonwoo would save him, but that didn't mean I could watch him walk straight into danger.
"Seonwoo!" I shouted again, my voice shaking. "It's a trap!
Seonwoo didn't turn. He was too focused. Too intent on doing what he thought was right. The rope was in his hand now, and he was getting ready to toss it.
The first vulture-like monster screeched, its wings beating the air like thunder. Another followed. Then another. They were circling above us, the dark shapes swooping in and out of the moonlight, their eyes gleaming with hunger.
The sound of their wings was deafening, a constant reminder that our time was running out.
I had to act fast. The man below wasn't just someone who had fallen prey to the monsters. His betrayal, his near-death, was part of something bigger.
It was a part of Seonwoo's story, a chapter he had to write, no matter how much I wanted to rewrite it.
Seonwoo had to save him, but I had to make sure he survived.
I made a decision. I couldn't let Seonwoo face this alone.
"Seonwoo!" I screamed, now more urgent. "Wait! Don't!"
But he had already thrown the rope down, and it unfurled, reaching the person below.
I could feel the weight of fate pressing down on me. There was no stopping it now.
But then—something unexpected happened.
The person grabbed the rope, but not with a hand. It was something darker, something faster, grabbing at it with unnatural strength.
A shadow leapt from the ground below, and just as Seonwoo was about to pull, a monstrous figure clung to the rope. It wasn't a person anymore. It was one of the vultures—its grotesque, twisted form, with sharp talons and a beak that could rip flesh from bone.
"Seonwoo, get back!" I yelled, but it was too late.
The vulture monster screeched again, its wings flapping with a fury that sent gusts of wind rushing toward us. The person, no longer recognizable, struggled beneath it, still alive but consumed by something worse than death.
Seonwoo stepped back in horror, his sword drawn instinctively. The monster had dropped the rope and now loomed in front of us, its eyes glinting with malice.
I grabbed Seonwoo's arm, pulling him away from the edge. "We need to move—now!"
But Seonwoo wouldn't budge. He was too focused on the battle ahead, too determined to fight.
"Seonwoo—please!" I begged. "We need to run!"
But the look on his face told me everything. He wasn't just fighting the monster in front of him. He was fighting the part of himself that had been betrayed, the part that had to survive, no matter the cost.
He took a step forward, then another. The sword gleamed in the moonlight as he faced the creature head-on.
And then, with a roar that shook the cliffside, he charged.
The battle was swift, a blur of motion. Seonwoo was fast, his strikes precise, slicing through the air with deadly intent.
The vulture monster screeched, retreating for a moment before charging again, this time with fury in its eyes.
But Seonwoo was relentless. With a final blow, the monster collapsed to the ground, twitching and still.
Seonwoo stood panting, his sword dripping with the creature's blood. For a moment, I thought he would collapse from exhaustion, but instead, he turned toward the edge of the cliff where the person still clung, barely alive.
The man below was no longer struggling. His body hung limp, his face pale with the blood loss.
"He's not dead," I whispered, my heart racing. "He's been betrayed."
Seonwoo didn't respond right away. His face was grim, his mind working through the weight of what had just happened.
"We can't leave him," he muttered.
It was then I realized. The man, whoever he was, was more than just a victim of circumstance.
He was someone who had been abandoned, discarded by his own people—people who had betrayed him.
I could see it in his eyes. He wasn't just anyone. He was important. His survival mattered, and now, we had the chance to change the course of his fate.
"Pull him up," I urged, my voice urgent.
Seonwoo nodded. Together, we pulled the rope back up, and as the man's form emerged from the shadows, his eyes met ours with a flicker of recognition.
He was alive.
And now, I understood. Saving him would change everything.
I hurriedly grabbed the crystal water, my hands shaking as I splashed it into a small makeshift cup.
The man's breath was shallow, his body trembling violently as his wounds bled into the dirt. He was half-dead, barely clinging to life.
"Come on," I muttered, pressing the cup to his cracked lips. "Just drink a little."
He barely stirred, his eyes flickering open but too weak to respond. The blood that stained his clothes was a mix of old and new, as if he'd been through the torture of betrayal for too long.
His skin was cold to the touch, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and made you doubt if anyone could survive.
I looked at Seonwoo. His face was grim as he stood beside me, sword still in hand, bloodied from the fight. He had no words—none were needed.
We were both feeling the weight of this moment, knowing that if this man didn't survive, everything we had done so far might be for nothing.
But the book had shown me this. It had guided us to this moment, revealing that saving him was part of the path we were meant to take.
I tilted the cup carefully, coaxing the crystal water to his lips again. This time, he drank, just a little. His body jerked as the cool liquid touched his dry throat, and I could see a flicker of life returning to his eyes.
"Drink," I urged, my voice softer now. "You have to drink more."
Slowly, painfully, he swallowed, the water somehow managing to revive him despite the severity of his injuries. It wasn't instant—there was no dramatic healing, no magic cure.
But I could see it: the faintest flush of color returning to his skin, the slight steadiness in his breath. The glowing water was doing something, even if it wasn't enough to undo all the damage.
Seonwoo stepped closer, kneeling beside me as he glanced down at the man with a conflicted look on his face. "Is he…?"
"He's alive," I answered quietly, though my heart hammered in my chest. I wasn't sure for how long.
The man's lips parted weakly, and his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. "Why…? Why did you save me?"
I paused, not knowing how to respond. I hadn't expected him to speak, especially in such a fragile state.
"We couldn't leave you," Seonwoo said, his voice low but firm. "You're still alive, and that means you have a chance."
I watched as the stranger tried to lift his head, his eyes scanning us with something like suspicion but also curiosity. "I don't know why you'd help someone like me. I was left to die by my own people."
He coughed weakly, blood staining his lips. "They wanted me dead. They betrayed me."
I exchanged a glance with Seonwoo. This wasn't just a random encounter. This man's survival was tied to something bigger. He had been betrayed, cast aside, and now his fate had crossed paths with ours.
"You don't have to explain," I said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But we saved you because it's what we do. We don't leave people behind. Not anymore."
Seonwoo nodded, his gaze still steady on the stranger. "If you can travel, you'll be safe with us. But we need to move. The monsters won't wait forever."
The man looked between us, still too weak to stand, but I saw something shift in his eyes—a sense of resolve, though faint.
"I'm not sure I can make it," he murmured, his voice breaking. "But if you saved me... I owe you."
"You don't owe us anything," Seonwoo said. "Just live. That's enough for now."
I helped the man sit up, supporting him as he tried to steady himself. Slowly, hesitantly, he drank more of the glowing water, his eyes softening with each sip. It was clear he didn't trust us yet, but survival had a way of bridging gaps where nothing else could.
The man still looked weak, but I could see that the water was working its magic. He would survive, for now. And as I watched him recover, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just an accident. This was all part of the path—the next step in a story that was bigger than any of us.
Seonwoo and I shared another glance. We didn't have time to stay here. The monsters were still out there, still hunting. But now we had another person to protect, another person whose survival meant something more than just the present.
And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the world in shadows, I realized that we were no longer just running from the dangers of this world. We were starting to shape our future. Together.