The god created beasts and humans to dwell in one world, but when their words could be understood by one another, balance was broken. Language meant wisdom—and so, they began to hate each other. Thus, the god repaired the world.

“......”

The god elevated humans and humbled beasts. He stripped away the power of wisdom and confined it to a single point. From that place, a tree grew thick and wild. With that tree, the god shaped flesh, and by breaking his own bones, he made a foundation. From the god’s blood, a crimson dragon was born.

“......”

The god said: My child, gentle lamb, guard the world I have made. You are my most cherished lion—carry out my will. Do not frighten what belongs to me. The dragon, by the god’s decree, took on a human form, sometimes becoming beast, and guarded the world.

“......”

The god did not reclaim him, and so his life had no end. The dragon went to the forest and killed himself. His blood, vast as the sea, covered the forest and pooled—and in time, it rotted, turning to poison.

Thus the forest was dyed black. The god, enraged, sent a new lion and cursed the mission he had once given.

“......”

From that day on, when dragons needed to die, they went to the forest and ended themselves. The forest became a grave that nourished the world. The dragons gave themselves for the god's beloved world. They became part of the forest and fulfilled their mission.

“......”

The poison soaked into the forest, and the dragons upheld their vow. And so the world was full of peace.

Therefore, offer the dragon to the forest—do not forget to offer the beast in human form to the woods. Only then will peace return. If no offering is made, peace will fade.

Humans, humans. Offer up the god’s lion, and let the age of man continue.

The dragon exists for your sake—offer its massive body.

“...And they dare call this a fairy tale.”

Ather—the royal archivist—placed the old manuscript back in the deep underground archives. Shaped like a storybook, the book was written in a lost language, making it nearly impossible to decipher.

“Did dragons really exist...?”

He had sought all manner of knowledge, and that included dragons. But all he found were absurd tales like this. The cult leader claimed dragons had truly lived—yet there wasn’t a single proper record left.

“......”

Why was he the only one who spoke of dragons?

“...Hmm.”

At the time, Ather couldn’t understand it.

He dusted off his hands and climbed down from the towering library ladder. Returning the long seat-like chair to its place, he extinguished the last remaining lights in the dusty library, locked the door tight, and returned to the archive aboveground.

This had been during the time when the sword-wielding archivist from a commoner background resided in the royal library.

***

“......”

The priest of the Moon Sect, having heard everything, fell silent.

“...Then, the current evil god...”

“The current evil god is a monster born from generations of sacrifice.”

“...That...”

The Moon Sect priest’s lips trembled.

“...is no different from us.”

At his groan-like words, the surrounding Hunters turned to him in shock. Only Seo Seo-hee, who had guessed the state of the Moon Sect, suppressed a sigh. But even he couldn’t react to the vacant, dazed look in the priest’s eyes.

“We’re just like that dragon.”

In the beginning, it must have been a mission. Even if shaped by the god’s hands, the dragon had likely tended the world with pure-hearted devotion. So they became one with the forest. But in the end, it had led to the world’s collapse—and the birth of an evil god.

Then wouldn’t the Moon Sect eventually create one too?

“......”

“...We took pride in our mission. Not just me, the Saintess of this generation, but all those before me. I can feel it—I was truly happy.”

Aram swept her hand over the carvings of the ruins as she spoke.

“Even if it was the ‘right’ path, I’ve come to realize here that it was never the correct one. It takes an awful long time for a small moonstone like me to warm the moon.”

“...And in that time, more tragedies like this will unfold.”

“This was our arrogance. We dared underestimate divinity. To mere creatures like us, they are immutable beings—eternal concepts. How could we ever become something ‘greater’ to them?”

Even the dragons—children of that mystery—had fallen. With such a tradition, the Moon Sect’s ending was only too predictable.

Aram met the gaze of the priest who stared blankly at her.

“This is not a subjugation of a fallen dragon—this is a requiem for abandoned children. That is why I stayed here. Now I need your help.”

“...What should I do?”

“Think about it. What should we do?”

“......”

“I’m going to meet my teacher—the Moon.”

Aram held the elder’s hand and gently placed her forehead against his in prayer.

“You must do what you must.”

“...I-I don’t know. What is it that I must do? I’m such a lacking person...”

“We’re all born lacking—and we end our lives just the same. Even if we burn ourselves to embrace all knowledge, we never truly can. I’ve accepted that. Now it’s your turn.”

“But... the Moon Sect... it always allowed us to...”

“Nowhere within those permissions was the creation of an evil god allowed. That was a contradiction. So think. Ponder endlessly. Seek the path. That’s what it means to live as a human.”

“Ah... I...”

“......”

“......”

After a long hesitation, the elder turned to the watching Hunters. Some of them looked at the Moon Sect warily. Others seemed pitying. And only then did the elder realize—

That a tradition which evoked such expressions could not be righteous.

“...I’ll do my best. I’ll find the path.”

“That alone is enough.”

“May I dare to illuminate the path you’ll walk?”

“That would be a blessing.”

When Aram turned to look at Seo Seo-hee, he smiled and asked,

“I believe I can be of help.”

“...Thank you.”

Humans cannot kill divinity. But divinity can deal with divinity.

‘...Mr. Argio created this situation with that in mind.’

Nowhere in that vast Demon King’s castle, with its countless hands, was the Moon captured. Nor was she hidden in some wide ruin like this village. Aram felt the absence of her teacher within the dream.

“......”

She wished this weren’t a fight between gods.

“...I think it’s time to wake up.”

And so, for the first time in a long while, Aram awoke from the dream.

When she opened her eyes, she was in the Moon Sect’s bedroom.

***

Aram sat up from the soft bed.

In her arms was a pillow she’d lost at some point. Filled with down, slightly worn—it was one of the first things her foster mother had bought for her when she’d joined the Moon Sect.

Back then, when she had nothing, even a warm pillow had made her happy.

“...Bishop.”

Her voice echoed emptily through her room.

“Where are you?”

Leaving the pillow neatly on the bed, Aram stepped out. The injuries she’d taken while running through the amusement park and the forest—the dust that had clung to her—had all vanished like a dream. It left a bitter aftertaste.

She walked slowly through the now quiet Moon Sect grounds.

“......”

Everyone was asleep.

‘...I figured as much.’

At some point, support from the real-world Moon Sect had stopped. That couldn’t happen unless something had gone seriously wrong. And if that had indeed occurred in reality, then a clear cause had to exist.

Aram’s footsteps soon brought her to the communal prayer room.

“...Bishop.”

“......”

“...Mother...”

“...Saintess.”

A woman sat atop the black lake, where no moon hung in the sky.

“You’ve come to find me.”

“Yes.”

“You are indeed clever, Saintess.”

She praised the Saintess who had come all the way here alone. In her arms, the small Moon glowed faintly, like a sleeping child. Gently stroking it, the bishop never once looked at Aram.

“I knew it the moment I first saw you in that snow-covered alley. That this child longed to see more. That she was curious about the world. Just seeing your bright eyes, I knew where you belonged.”

“......”

“I didn’t expect you would actually take the Saintess’s seat. Perhaps I did hope it, as a bishop would. The birth of a Saintess is something to rejoice. But the emptiness you left behind... it hurt terribly.”

Her voice was soft—but everything she said was a mess.

“It hurt so much. There were many Saints, both known and unknown. They all passed me by. Time and again, I thought: I should’ve gone. Me. Ah... I should’ve died in their place.”

The bishop plunged the Moon she held into the black water. The pale light of the moon sank, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» slowly vanishing into the dark.

“......”

“...Saintess.”

“I have never—not even once!!—thought that you sacrificed me!!!”

If it was a sin, it was her own. If it was the bishop’s fault, it was everyone’s fault.

If such a sacrificed life was rotting with grief, then why did you just watch? You could’ve screamed. You could’ve said you were hurting.

“...Even if you are the bishop, you cannot insult my choices.”

“My sin is grave... truly grave. And yet, knowing all this, learning so much—you’re still not angry that I call you Saintess.”

“I like this seat. I rose to it of my own will, and I’ve built much while sitting in it. If I fail, then I should be the one to fail. If I suffer, then let it be my choice.”

“Saintess.”

“Mother—I have the right to challenge.”

Even if it was foolish. Even if it was reckless.

“My will gives me the worth to attempt everything.”

That is what gives humans value.

“We’ve never once fought, have we?”

“Because I never wanted to.”

“I made a friend. A royal archivist named Ather. He’s so irritating. He says the most correct things with the most annoying tone. That’s when I realized—even the truth can infuriate people.”

“...What are you trying to say?”

“That it’s okay to fight. People must get angry. To be angry is natural. It’s one of the few precious ways we can measure differing opinions.”

It is both a weapon and a fortress.

“If we don’t get angry, how else can we challenge each other’s thoughts?”

There are those who are right, and those who are wrong. And then there are those who are both right and wrong.

Aram and the bishop were simply two of the many who lived in that gray area.

They needed to get angry.

“Be angry with me, Mother.”

“Saintess.”

“And tell me your story.”

“......”

“...I...”

Tearing up, the Saintess smiled. She lifted her hand—and pulled the cosmos into her dark pupils.

They were now in the universe.

“...I’ve never once heard your side of things, Mother.”

She had chased mystical knowledge—and in doing so, overlooked the nearest wisdom of all.

That was Aram’s past—and that, too, meant she was a sinner.

***

“......”

Bishop Bae Seo-Gyeong blinked as she gazed at the cosmos shimmering with stardust.

“...It’s beautiful.”

My story...

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t even the Church’s head. A bishop’s tale—something with no purpose or worth. It wasn’t worth spending the brief time Aram had in her life on.

Even so, if she wished to hear it—then she had to speak.

“The moon looked lonely to me.”

She took in the image of her daughter, white-haired like the moon.

“That’s how it started. At one point, I thought I’d obviously become the moon—but I failed at everything. Family, friends... they all left. But I still remember them. The memories are so vivid... and they were all kind, gentle people.”

In the aurora-covered prayer room that became a universe, Bae Seo-Gyeong confessed.

“I kept studying. To create stars beside the moon. So even the unworthy could reach this pitch-black cosmos. So the moon wouldn’t be alone. So that, with the Saints who had become the moon, we could whisper to human hearts...”

But truly—

“...Honestly, I just couldn’t bear the pain. The moon’s life is so long, and humanity’s era so short—how could we possibly turn the moon into a person? Yes, I knew I was bound to fail. I tried to deny it by becoming a star—but it was too hard.”

No matter how much knowledge or wisdom she used—she couldn’t become a star.

“But now, it’s different. The god of dreams lent me his wisdom.”

“He is not some god of dreams.”

“But to me, he was. He recognized my dream. He whispered a greater dream to me. He showed me the way. If that isn’t a dream god, then what is?”

“So that’s why you put all the Moon Sect disciples to sleep.”

“No. They’re still awake, Saintess.”

Bae Seo-Gyeong looked at Aram, radiant as the moon.

“Look around you.”

In the cosmic shimmer, ‘stars’ sparkled.

“They are your stars.”

“......”

Aram twisted her lips.

“...I didn’t want this.”

“Then you must get angry.”

“I was waiting for that.”

“...I wasn’t.”

Bae Seo-Gyeong couldn’t understand. They were the ones who had wished for this. They were her eternal family.

“Are these stars not beautiful?”

Why was she angry?

A meteor shower fell—

Toward the moon.