Yoon Ji-han scrambled after Kang Tae-san, plunging into the portal.
He braced himself for the immense pressure that had nearly crushed him before, and this time, he managed to hold his ground.
They emerged into a scorching desert, the sun a white-hot eye in the sky.
One moment, they were in the heart of an erupting volcano; the next, the world had transformed into an endless sea of sand.
Yoon Ji-han scanned the horizon, but all he saw was blazing, featureless desert in every direction.
Instead of offering an explanation, Kang Tae-san’s hand shot out and seized Yoon Ji-han’s wrist in a vise-like grip, twisting it brutally.
“I don’t see a rank insignia on you, but I know I saw you manipulating sand.”
A grunt of pain was torn from Yoon Ji-han’s throat as his wrist felt like it was being pulverized in a press.
The agony was blinding.
He collapsed to his knees, overwhelmed by the excruciating pain that stole the air from his lungs.
Now Yoon Ji-han understood what people meant when they said it could hurt too much to even scream.
Kang Tae-san released him as suddenly as he’d grabbed him.
“Well,” he remarked, “there are plenty of Awakened out there. I suppose it’s not so strange to find a special case like you.”
Only then could Yoon Ji-han force out the groan he’d been suppressing, but the searing pain didn’t fade.
Losing his composure for a moment, Yoon Ji-han snarled.
“You damn old man! You almost broke my arm!”
“You’re as weak as you are stupid.”
Rage flared in Yoon Ji-han’s chest, and he unleashed his Morae Po skill.
A high-pressure jet of sand slammed into Kang Tae-san’s chest, but the old man didn’t so much as flinch.
Kang Tae-san just laughed, brushing the grains of sand from his clothes.
“So it’s true. You’ve awakened sand-manipulation abilities. Hehe!”
“So what if I have? What’s it to you?”
“From now on, you’re coming with me, fool.”
“My name is Yoon Ji-han, not fool… you damn old man!”
“If you’re weak, you’re a fool.”
“Say that one more time and I’ll rip your mouth off.”
The words died on Yoon Ji-han’s lips as he clamped his mouth shut.
This was Kang Tae-san, a monster who had single-handedly hunted the dungeon’s final boss, the Jeok-ryong.
He was an existence beyond Yoon Ji-han’s wildest comprehension.
Though he’d lost his temper, Yoon Ji-han knew he was no match for this man. In Kang Tae-san’s eyes, he was utterly insignificant, a gnat to be crushed with a single finger.
Kang Tae-san glanced at Cheon-myeol, murmuring to himself.
“Hmm… Barely F-rank, it seems. It’ll take some time before it’s useful.”
“Hehe! I’ll just have to be harsh with him. If he doesn’t die, he’ll get stronger.”
There was an unsettling madness in the way he muttered to himself while looking at Creion.
I’ve really been caught by a crazy old man, Yoon Ji-han thought.
It was a desert with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
Escape was a fantasy.
Until he was strong enough, Yoon Ji-han had no choice but to follow Kang Tae-san.
He sighed and trudged after the old man.
Being powerless is a crime, he thought bitterly. A crime!
The desert heat seemed to have no effect on Kang Tae-san.
He walked across the shadeless expanse of sand without any sign of fatigue or discomfort.
Yoon Ji-han, however, felt like he was on the verge of collapse.
The shifting, searing sand sapped his strength with every step.
His clothes were already drenched in sweat.
His breathing grew labored, his pace slowing to a crawl.
“Ha! I’ve never seen a bigger fool. You’re not even using one percent of the ability you possess.”
“You were given the power to control sand, weren’t you?”
“So use the sand. Why are you struggling to walk?”
“You make it sound so easy! I only Awakened a few days ago.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Yoon Ji-han’s frustration boiled over. Kang Tae-san stopped and turned, his face a mask of disdain.
That single look was enough to set Yoon Ji-han off again.
“I’m F-rank! I’m not some high-level Awakened like you!”
“And that’s why you’re a fool. What does it matter if you’re F-rank or S-rank? Is anyone born an S-rank? Maybe a few, blessed from birth. But are you going to give up just because you weren’t one of them? To someone else, you’re the one who’s blessed. So stop your whining and start thinking. Figure out how to use what you’ve been given. What good is a strong body when your mind is full of shit?”
“Could you just stop calling me a fool?”
“If you don’t want to be called a fool, then shatter that stubborn skull of yours and start learning. Until then, you’re the king of fools.”
Yoon Ji-han had no reply. He could only stand there, fuming in silence.
Kang Tae-san turned and started walking again.
“It’s your ability,” he called over his shoulder. “You should know it best. Figure out how to grow it, how to use it.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then either I’ll kill you, or that sun will. One of the two.”
With that, Kang Tae-san resumed his trek, leaving two crisp lines of footprints stretching into the distance.
Yoon Ji-han glared at his back.
Fool? Wants to shatter my stubborn head?
Something deep inside him began to simmer.
Anger at Kang Tae-san, and a burning anger at himself.
The two emotions churned together, fueling a fierce new resolve.
Yoon Ji-han gritted his teeth.
Fine. I’ll show you. I’ll make sure you never call me a fool again.
With renewed determination, Yoon Ji-han started walking, his mind racing.
All I have is the ability to manipulate sand. So I have to use the sand.
He had Awakened as a Sand Manipulator, but he had no real grasp of his power’s extent. He had only used it in brief, desperate flashes to survive.
He needed to understand his limits. He had to focus, to truly explore what he was capable of.
Yoon Ji-han channeled his mana, and the sand around him stirred, drawn toward him.
My range is about five meters in diameter.
The sand closest to him moved quickly, while the grains at the edge of his influence were sluggish.
Controlling it was one thing, but the slow response was another problem to solve later.
Right now, he had a more pressing issue.
The sand sank up to his ankles with every step.
Lifting his feet from the grasping heat was draining his stamina at an alarming rate. If he couldn’t solve this, he would be stranded here to die.
What if I compact the sand under my feet?
He had used a similar method to cross the river of lava.
Yoon Ji-han focused, solidifying the sand directly beneath his boots.
Walking instantly became easier.
It felt like striding across solid pavement.
But there was a catch.
The mana consumption was severe.
Each hardened step leeched his energy. At this rate, he’d be completely drained in a few dozen meters.
Yoon Ji-han abandoned the method.
He had a crystal-clear vision of what would happen when his mana ran out.
I’ll either be baked into a mummy by the sun or become monster food long before that.
The thought alone was terrifying.
Yoon Ji-han considered his next move.
My mana pool is still small. I can’t afford this kind of reckless spending. I need a more efficient method.
His next idea was to concentrate mana in his legs. Focusing it directly into his muscles made his steps feel lighter and significantly reduced his fatigue.
But Yoon Ji-han discarded this method, too.
While it worked, it had nothing to do with his core ability.
He was a Sand Manipulator. He had to polish his sand-manipulation skills. It might be harder now, but it was the only way forward.
For his third attempt, Yoon Ji-han tried to manipulate only the sand that directly touched the soles of his feet.
Just a thin layer, maybe a centimeter thick, the size of my boot.
Focusing mana on such a small area was far more difficult than wielding it broadly. The slightest lapse in concentration caused the sand to lose cohesion and scatter.
Time and again, he lost control and stumbled, falling flat on his face.
The soft sand saved him from injury, but each fall left him with a mouthful of grit.
Yoon Ji-han pushed himself up, spitting.
With no water to drink, his throat was already parched; the sand made it feel like sandpaper.
Exhaustion was etched onto his face.
In the distance, Kang Tae-san’s figure was a steady, unwavering speck.
The old man hadn’t looked back once. It was clear he didn’t care if Yoon Ji-han lived or died.
The sight only fueled Yoon Ji-han’s fury.
Who’s the reason I’m in this mess in the first place?
Anger surged through him again.
If it weren’t for Kang Tae-san, he could be resting safely at the Yeongseok Gwangsan. The pain and hardship twisted into a bitter resentment that clouded his judgment.
Yoon Ji-han felt his sanity fraying at the edges.
He knew he had to find a solution, and quickly, or he would lose his mind out here.
He refocused, channeling his will into the sand beneath his feet.
Slowly, the grains began to move, carrying his feet forward like wheels on a track.
The movement was excruciatingly slow.
He was still not used to handling his mana with such finesse.
Concentrating on a small, precise area was exhausting. Whenever his focus wavered, the sand would scatter, and he would tumble backward onto the ground.
Though fatigue gnawed at him, Yoon Ji-han refused to give up.
Again and again, he focused on the sand, picking himself up after every fall.
And his efforts were not in vain.
Gradually, his control became more adept.
The sand began to move more smoothly, carrying him forward with less effort.
It was almost as if the desert itself was giving him a ride. But this was no miracle; it was the result of Yoon Ji-han’s relentless, agonizing effort.
Countless falls and desperate thoughts had made this possible.
However, he was still wasting a considerable amount of mana. At this rate, he wouldn’t last long.
Yoon Ji-han concentrated harder, refining his control, trying to use his mana more efficiently.
Finally, he found a rhythm. His mana expenditure stabilized, and he could move across the sand with a strange new ease.
Far ahead, Kang Tae-san knew what was happening without turning around.
The subtle shifts in mana, the whisper of air, even the changing rhythm of Yoon Ji-han’s breathing—it all painted a clear picture for him.
He could perceive Yoon Ji-han’s entire struggle without ever laying eyes on him.
“You’ve become a somewhat useful fool.”
Though by his standards, Yoon Ji-han still had a very long way to go.