“Just over an hour left until midnight. The Alps, stretching across Europe, lay shrouded in darkness. In the stillness, only the perennial snows—imbued with moonlight—shed a faint, pale glow. Through broken fragnts of clouds, countless stars sprinkled the sky like a motionless painting in which not even a breath stirred.
They drifted softly across the black night sky.
“That mountain’s pure white. Yul, you’ve never seen snow falling, have you?”
Standing pressed against the airship’s vast window, Yerim asked. Yul was right beside her, his face practically glued to the glass.
“No. Inside Father’s house, I could never see outside properly.”
“They say it snowed in Korea too. When we get back, want to go to a sledding hill?”
“A sledding hill?”
“Auntie only went once when she was little—I heard it’s amazing!”
Seeing the two of them side by side, clad in their black-and-white formal wear, my lips curled in a smile. How cute. This wasn’t a plane, a helicopter, or a fighter—it was an airship. A massive balloon once used instead of airplanes to traverse the skies. Now they’re nearly obsolete, used only for scientific research or the occasional tourist trip.
This particular airship had been rented for tourism. Painted matte black and fitted with stealth-enhancing modules, it hardly made a sound. It might show up on radar, but on the ground—not even an S-rank’s senses could detect it.
‘Helicopters and cars are too noisy.’
Noise, lights, and heat would make silent approach nearly impossible. But this airship’s engines were shut off. We had Peace and Noah with us. And one more advantage: an airship can hover silently, indefinitely, if the weather’s good. And tonight, the weather was perfect.
“How’s the feed, Marcel?” I asked, approaching the hunter who sat in a darkened corner, carefully shielding the console’s glow.
Marcel had been a mber of the old Ark Guild—Noah’s forr guild. As a support-class hunter, he’d specialized in administrative and auxiliary skills rather than dungeon assaults.
“Broadcast’s clean. The picture’s crisp.”
“Excellent. And rember: if it turns dangerous, abandon everything and get out fast.”
I lowered my voice as I spoke.
“I know Noah surprised you by deciding to stay in Korea... you must’ve been taken aback.”
I felt guilty, knowing how much my influence had played a part. Marcel scratched the back of his head.
“I was surprised in a different way. Honestly, when the guildmaster left, I assud it was because of Hunter Liet. Everyone was braced for that—and Liet never had much love for our guild.”
“I see...”
So that’s why they dissolved without much fuss. Thinking back to the old Liet and Noah... even without , they might have shut down overnight. I’m sure Noah struggled to keep it going alone. What would have happened before the loop?
“If Noah ever rebuilds a guild,” I added, “I promise: no more letting Liet pull the strings.”
“I’m glad to hear that. To be honest, I never thought our guild was inferior to any other. We had a unique specialty—if we’d grown properly, we could’ve beco the top support-class guild.”
Centered on S-rank support-class guildmaster Noah Ruhir, the world’s best auxiliary hunters could have rallied under him. Aside from a small Healer Alliance, nearly every guild was combat-focused.
It felt wrong to keep Noah stuck in that breeding-ground guild. Technically, building a new support-class guild from scratch might suit him.
“Marcel,” I said, “you said you’re not in a new guild yet. Want to co to Korea with us?”
“Huh?”
“Noah’s acting like a free hunter here in Dodam, but he’ll need backup sooner or later—and it’d be great to have soone he’s worked with before.”
Of course, I’d make sure he was well taken care of. Marcel gave an awkward smile.
“I’d be honored. I just need to polish up my Korean—my listening’s okay, but speaking not so much.”
“That’s already sothing!”
“Oh, I have a special skill with languages. It was my major.”
A true asset, indeed. I moved to Yuhyun, who sat quietly in a backless chair draped in his black formal coat and the thunderbird ceremonial cloak. Its hem pooled on the floor, moonlight dancing across his pale face with the ship’s gentle sway.
I reached out and stroked his soft, curly hair; he leaned his head into my hand.
“I’ve kept so much from you, too. I won’t rush you. I know better than anyone that so things are hard to share.”
“...Hyung.”
“Above all, I’ll never doubt you again. Whatever happens, whatever you hide—I understand. When you’re ready, you can tell . Even if you never do, that’s okay.”
My brother, hesitant at first, gave a small nod. Whatever struggles he held inside, rely knowing they existed wasn’t bad. Worrying was natural—but he was Yuhyun.
“One thing: you can’t face danger alone. Ever again.”
“It’s not like that.”
“That’s right. Everyone worries and falters in life. It’s normal.”
Everyone gets lost on life’s winding road. We turn back when blocked, pause at crossroads, rest before moving on—nobody’s path is straight.
“Thirty minutes to arrival!” Marcel called.
I swiftly opened the cooler.
“Let’s grab a quick bite. I doubt we’ll get al vouchers.”
I’d even brought a congratulatory gift. Hosting a wedding at midnight on New Year’s Eve was already audacious—no invitation needed, yet here we were: best friends, surely. Not that I wanted to look too chummy with Seonghyunje; I’d keep so distance. Just business associates, nothing more.
Noah and Peace, waiting outside, joined us for snacks and drinks. Yerim drew water, Yuhyun sparked a fla and brewed hot coffee.
“Dad, can I try coffee too?”
“Not for kids. It’ll keep you up.”
“But we can’t sleep early tonight.”
She had a point. Still, caffeine was no substitute for rest. Relenting, I handed her a black coffee.
“Ugh...”
“Bitter, right? That’s how coffee is. Let’s give the rest to Director Song.”
I made one for him too, with sugar and crear—vending-machine milk-coffee style. I don’t know beans, but I know cream ratios.
The airship slowed and ca to a hover. Below, dim lights glimred between the uninhabited peaks. With a clunk, the hatch on one side opened.
“Everyone, prepare. Yul, you sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely! Trust !”
With confidence, Yul transford into a small white kitten. I cast the “Teacher” skill on him, and he flapped his tiny wings and descended. Miniscule yet present—perfect for recon. Fae-bonding magic let us guide him at will. If the children could help, we’d let them. Yul was especially enthusiastic.
Through Yul’s eyes, the light «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» ahead brightened. In the darkness stood a grand mansion—registered as a wealthy magnate’s country villa. Villas like this dotted Europe, impossible to locate before January 1st without Hamin’s help.
‘Hamin had to work hard.’
A rat inside had pointed us here. Whether from thorough pest control or Fae-pressure, the mansion’s owner hadn’t ventured to the garden—but Marie often did, and the rat saw her.
“Descend slowly, lower altitude.”
Twenty minutes to midnight. Behind the stately villa stretched a long annex. At its far end, a dod ceiling glowed from within. Yul inched closer. The do, like a cut diamond, was too perfectly faceted for ordinary glass. Golden filigree frad the jewel-like panes. Not actual gold, I hoped.
“This ceiling could be a dungeon byproduct. Director Song, over to you.”
Yul peered inside where pale moonlight filtered through. The first thing we saw was flowers—countless blossoms under soft illumination. In a typical wedding hall, guests would sit flanked by these blooms. Red carpets lay atop white marble, golden candelabras casting flickering light.
Crystal bead garlands draped along the walls, like dewdrops on spiderwebs. Moonlight pooled in each bead. A soft breeze might make them tinkle in unison.
At the end of the aisle stood Seonghyunje on a dais reached by five steps. With his back turned, his face hidden, I knew it was him: shoulders straight in white finery, faded hair draped over his nape.
No officiant, no wedding party, no guests—this wasn’t a wedding, but so mystical ritual.
“I’m ready,” Noah reported.
“ too,” Yerim added, laden with equipnt.
Ten minutes passed. At last, the bride appeared. I raised one hand calmly. Yuhyun slipped to my side and gripped my arm. Director Song stepped forward; Yerim, Noah, and Peace closed ranks behind us. Then—
With a swift motion, Director Song cut through the shadows and we plunged down. Cold air slapped our faces for a heartbeat.
Crash!
Fragnts of the ceiling rained down like hail.
Marie thought white dresses looked terrible on her—but wedding gowns were white. A pure lace veil trailed behind the dress. The layers, studded with glittering gems and gold-and-silver embroidery, slled of flowers; moonlight draped the hall in silver.
And that was all. No guests. No laughter or congratulatory shouts. Marie walked the long aisle alone, bouquet in hand.
What I love. And—
‘What I must do.’
A heart once swollen with joy sank cold. The veil whispered across the floor. Marie’s gaze t the man on the dais. Even seeing his back did not bring happiness; it felt like a heavy stone on her chest.
‘Is this “marriage blues”?’
She puckered her lips. Her ideal type stood before her; his appearance was more than satisfactory. Surely. Marie glanced up to the ornate clock high on the wall.
This wasn’t a simple wedding. All those happy thoughts were pointless. This was the “happy ending” she had awaited for so long.
“Ah.”
With a sigh, Seonghyunje turned. Marie’s eyes widened—he was smiling, delight shining in his expression. Then she sensed sothing rushing toward her.
“What... what is this!”
Crash! The moonlit do shattered, sending shards tumbling.
“Hello, nice to et you!”
Han Yujin strode in, arms wide. How had he found this place so quickly? As Marie staggered, Yerim and Noah sprang into action. Yerim darted around, setting up caras in an instant.
“And... cue!”
At Han Yujin’s shout, a flare exploded: Bang!Bang! The broadcast began.
“Miss Marie—”
Gathered around Han Yujin, the S-rank hunters circled and knelt before Marie.
“I love you!”
“...Huh?”
Amid her stunned bewildernt, her eyes flicked over Han Yujin, Song Taewon, Han Yuhyun, Noah, and Yerim—in their black-and-white finery.
“Uh, um... well...?”
The grooms? Marie froze.
Changing perception is both easy and hard. In the modern age, the most effective thod is—
‘Broadcasting, of course.’
We, the S-rank hunters, had been on cara before—making surprise trailers, staging scenarios. In other words—
“New Year’s special: Which S-rank would you choose? I’m the S in SF~”
I winked at the cara. If we sward forward, everyone would realize it was another broadcast stunt, not a real wedding.
Carrying out a live show raiding a remote mountain villa wasn’t easy, but we’d installed the gear inside the airship. Negotiating with the network was simple—after all, top-rated hunter shows are always hungry for another live event. We arranged simultaneous international broadcasts and streaming.
“Celebrate the New Year with your favorite S-rank! Don’t like humans? Our adorable Peace is here too!”
—ow!
At my gesture, Peace, wearing a tiny bow tie, cocked his head cutely. Yerim blew a heart shape with her hands.
“Co watch the sunrise with !”
If only Hyun-ah were here—it would have been perfect.
“How about a date in the sky?” Noah asked, casually grinning.
“I can’t promise much ti, but I’ll give it my all,” Director Song read stiffly from the script. Yuhyun stared coolly.
“I have no interest in anyone but my brother.”
—To each their taste! I leapt from my spot; at my cue, the S-rank hunters parted left and right, revealing Seonghyunje on the dais. He smiled radiantly and extended a single hand toward us.
“To the one who will capture my interest.”
“I’ll be waiting! First broadcast January 6th! S-rank variety special: We’re getting married!”
Yuhyun hurled sparks as he plunged down; fireworks we’d placed in the ceiling ignited.
Pop! Crackle! Boom!
Amid the dazzling pyrotechnics—
“Happy New Year!”
A faerie descended, shimring wings fluttering; white-clad Yul spun in midair, alighting with a bright smile beneath his rose-pink curls and golden eyes.
“Happy New Year!”
We joined Seonghyunje in greeting the New Year on air. A wedding? People’s mories would have wiped that away instantly. Instead—
‘Everyone’s freaking out over that last faerie kid.’
Ding—
The final firework burst as the clock tolled midnight.
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