Chapter 58

Chapter 58
Chapter: 58

Chapter Title: Precarious Balance

—

Han Sang-ah broke the brief lull in conversation, her voice devoid of emotion.

“This is becoming complicated. If the slime population increases further, I will be in jeopardy. To be blunt, if their numbers hit double digits, I won’t be able to manage them.”

Should the slimes exceed Han Sang-ah’s capacity to contain them, she would be overwhelmed.

If Han Sang-ah was forced back, she wouldn’t be able to eliminate the slimes, and without those kills, I would succumb to hypothermia.

Conversely, if she slaughtered too many too quickly, my internal temperature would spike dangerously, resulting in death by hyperthermia.

“There might be a method for you to regulate the frequency of the slimes attacking me.”

“Understood, I’ll investigate.”

What actions could I take to manipulate the slime count? Occupied by that puzzle, I sprinted toward the creature resting upon its throne. Evading a deluge of ice projectiles that fell like a localized hurricane, I skidded to a halt directly before the monster’s seat of power.

Jagged pillars of frost erupted around the queen’s form, all of them calibrated to end my existence.

“…Wait, the primary slime has ceased generating offspring. No, it is still spawning them, but the rate has slowed to a crawl.”

I cocked my head in confusion.

The only variable was my proximity. To test this, I retreated a significant distance.

“What is the status now?”

“The production speed has accelerated again.”

Damnation. The closer I moved toward that beast, the more the slime birth rate for Han Sang-ah plummeted.

Slower spawning meant fewer targets for her to kill, which meant I would freeze to death.

On the other hand, if I maintained too much distance from the monster, the sheer volume of slimes swarming her would intensify beyond control.

In that scenario, a cornered Han Sang-ah would fail to cull them, and I would freeze once more.

“Absolutely nothing… is working in my favor!”

As if reacting to my internal rage, the Paradox Flame wrapped around my limbs flared outward. The core issue was the monster’s absurdly high magical resilience—nothing would ignite until I managed to incinerate that defense entirely.

Naturally, as I had done with the Erosion Cores in Gyodongdo or Daemado, I could simply allow the Paradox Flame to spiral out of control, triggering a localized cataclysm.

‘But I am not the only one here.’

While reducing everything to ash might provide a momentary catharsis, what would remain after the monster fell and I sought to reunite with Han Sang-ah?

She would be consumed by the Paradox Flame before she could even let out a cry. I hadn’t invested this much into her training just to discard her like a disposable asset.

“Endure for as long as possible.”

I possessed a high threshold for pain, but what was the limit for Han Sang-ah? Unlike my situation, she was burning through the mana reserves stored within her own frame—meaning she had a finite expiration point.

“You aren’t planning on being a burden, are you?”

This Erosion Core mandated a pair regardless, and I had selected Han Sang-ah over Lee Se-eun because the potential gains justified the danger. Who was holding whom back?

I was intimately familiar with her mana capacity and her technical proficiency. Factoring in the threat level of the slimes she was currently engaging…

‘She ought to hold out for at least three days.’

Provided she maintained consciousness and stayed locked into the rhythm of the duel. Fortunately, we had rehearsed this specific type of endurance trial countless times. I had faith she could execute the plan.

“Heh.”

A staggering vista unfolded in front of me. Within the howling gale, masterfully forged spears of ice cascaded from the firmament, while the frozen ground itself buckled and rose from below.

If I weren’t the target of this onslaught and were merely an observer, I would have called the sight magnificent.

“Wicked bitch.”

The insult escaped my lips instinctively. As the edge of a frozen blade nicked my shoulder, a wave of cold washed over me, and frost began to crystallize across my skin from the wound.

“A curse?”

This level of interference was manageable. I immediately incinerated the malignant energy using Paradox Flame. The true problem wasn’t these minor hexes.

“Keeping the gap…”

Too close and I perish, too far and I perish. The adversary was formidable, and my hands were tied by logistics.

For the first time in a while, a bead of cold sweat rolled down my back.

“At the very least, let’s neutralize this frost so it can’t harm us.”

I swept the shimmering Paradox Flame across the ice shards littering the area. I couldn’t melt the ice itself, but I could burn away the curses woven into it.

“…”

I sensed the monster staring at me with profound loathing. It was likely displeased that I had just scorched the hexes off its weaponry.

“Hey, if you’re offended, my apologies.”

I had no intention of extinguishing the fire. It wasn’t going to show mercy just because I played nice. Over the translucent webs of ice stretching out like a spider’s snare in every direction, midnight-black flames took hold and roared, creating a surreal tableau.

In this realm where frost and fire coiled around one another like battling serpents, I tightened my grip on my spear and lunged forward.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Han Sang-ah was enduring a state of absolute torment, mirrored by Yoo Chan-seok. Their reasons for suffering were slightly different, but the toll on their bodies was identical.

“…A bit faster.”

“Understood.”

Despite the pressure, Yoo Chan-seok and Han Sang-ah were adjusting to this nightmare with impressive synchronicity. Usually, battles where life teeters on a knife’s edge lead to vitriol over the smallest errors.

However, Yoo Chan-seok knew through bitter experience that such outbursts only hastened a collapse.

Han Sang-ah was not the sort to engage in verbal sparring anyway. She drove her blade through the slime occupying her path, splitting it down the center, then pivoted away from the reaching tendrils before retreating.

“I’m freezing. If you have the capacity, increase the tempo slightly.”

Responding to Yoo Chan-seok’s request, Han Sang-ah instantly channeled electricity into her weapon and accelerated her assault on the next target. Five flashes of steel struck like lightning bolts, ending another slime with clinical precision.

There was no wasted motion—only the exact force needed to sever the creature’s life.

It was the culmination of thousands of repetitions.

“How is that?”

“Yes, that’s better… Whoa! Agh!”

An error had occurred on his end. Yet, Han Sang-ah did not let the sudden tension in Yoo Chan-seok’s voice break her concentration.

If they were to die here, so be it. The only factor within her control was maintaining his body heat by slaying slimes. Everything else was outside her jurisdiction.

Dismissing his brief cry of pain, Han Sang-ah asked the only pertinent question.

“Body temperature?”

“Holding steady. Slimes?”

She was currently occupied with three targets. Casting a look toward the gargantuan slime pulsating in the distance as it birthed its minions, she made a calculation.

“Still within my limits. For… about 20 seconds of them crowding me, I can hold.”

“20 seconds? No, aim for 25.”

“I will try.”

Neither of them felt any guilt in placing heavy demands on the other. And the one receiving the order always attempted to fulfill it without a word of protest—whether it was Han Sang-ah straining for Yoo Chan-seok or the reverse.

As these requirements escalated, lacerations began to mark their skin, and exhaustion began to settle in.

“Haa…”

Han Sang-ah, having taken a blow to her midsection, tumbled across the floor several times before springing back to her feet.

“Yoo Chan-seok, this isn’t going to conclude anytime soon.”

“It seems that way. But I have an alternative… Ugh! You mentioned it because you have one too, right?”

Han Sang-ah looked toward the massive, bubbling slime in the distance.

“I am going to eliminate the primary slime responsible for the spawning.”

Tinkering with the small ones wouldn’t break the stalemate. They needed to destroy the source.

“That’s… damn. That could ruin our heat regulation entirely.”

“A slow demise or a swift one?”

Yoo Chan-seok let out a strained, dry laugh at her logic.

“Excellent options. If the end is coming regardless, I’d prefer it to be quick.”

“Very well. If I kill it, managing your temperature becomes nearly impossible.”

Success meant there would be no source of heat for Yoo Chan-seok afterward—he would freeze. Failure meant he would die immediately.

“So I have to endure it even if my temperature bottoms out.”

“Correct.”

Han Sang-ah’s response was sharp and final.

“Fine, let’s brave the cold. Do it.”

“Clear the remaining minions quickly and move straight to the objective. When I give the word, create the maximum distance between yourself and your monster.”

She couldn’t allow the smaller slimes to disrupt her final move. She would purge the remaining threats, forcing Yoo Chan-seok’s temperature to a dangerous peak, and then prepare the strike to annihilate the behemoth.

“Boiling then freezing. What is this, some kind of culinary technique? Scald in the pot, then plunge into ice water.”

Han Sang-ah paid no mind to his attempt at levity. At this pace, they would be slowly digested like prey in a predator’s stomach. Not quite dying.

More like drowning in an insurmountable debt.

She flooded her system with mana, eradicating the remaining slimes, and then spoke.

“Now—increase the distance.”

“Right. Good luck.”

Han Sang-ah returned her sword to its scabbard and took a long, steady breath. She needed to summon every scrap of power. She had to gather every remaining drop of mana within her and release it in a single explosion.

Success meant the giant slime died. Failure meant the end of the line.

A hollow sensation began to spread through her. She had poured out her entire reserve—there was no other way. It felt as though a vital organ had been carved out of her.

“Haa…”

“I’m… freezing to death.”

Yoo Chan-seok’s voice cracked. He wanted her to move faster, but she couldn’t rush this. More strength. Even if she felt empty, they say you can always wring one last drop from a dry cloth.

She squeezed herself to the breaking point. A single measure of mana could be the difference between victory and death.

“Hold on.”

Squeezing a wet sponge is easy—the water flows freely. But extracting moisture from one that has already been wrung out required time and sheer willpower.

Her very blood felt arid, every bit of her essence forced out without pity.

“…”

There was no time left to call out for patience, and no benefit to be gained from it. If this didn’t work, it would only prove that the plan was flawed from its inception.

Han Sang-ah gripped her hilt and sprinted toward the gargantuan slime. As she moved, arcs of pale blue electricity trailed behind her like a comet’s tail.

“Perish.”

One motion—the blade was drawn and swung.

A flash.

The world seemed to divide as the radiance of the sword cut a massive arc through the air. Rotating her entire body from the draw, Han Sang-ah followed the horizontal strike with a vertical one.

The resulting cross-shaped slash tore the giant slime’s mass into four separate pieces. From that intersection, a tidal wave of lightning erupted outward.

Electricity surged through the creature’s gelatinous body, sizzling with immense heat. The glowing cross of light expanded, consuming and incinerating the giant slime’s entire form.

“Guh… hng…”

Han Sang-ah’s sword clattered to the floor as she collapsed. Not a single muscle would respond.

As proof that she had surpassed her absolute limits, several strands of her hair turned stark white in that instant—as if she had undergone a rapid, artificial bleaching.

She didn’t have the strength to see if her attack had been successful. She lost consciousness the moment she hit the ground.