Chapter 101: Watchman of the Rye Field (1)

Lakes freeze, but seas do not. The nature of a lake is stillness. In contrast, the sea is ever-flowing.

It was such an embarrassingly basic fact that it hardly needed mentioning.

Yet our genius elite AI Jasbi insisted on pointing it out anyway… for one simple reason.

“…The sea’s frozen?”

The very foundation of that common knowledge had been shaken.

No, frozen solid.

No matter that this was cyber space—the environment here mirrored reality perfectly.

The ceaseless motion of the ocean should have held true even here.

It was a kind of providence, akin to the laws of physics.

And freezing magic defied those laws.

It was no wonder mages were desperate to restore this lost art. Its applications were endless, its range and scale immense. Freezing an entire sea proved that much.

A power that truly inverted heaven and earth.

Jasbi shook her head vigorously.

‘No, that’s not it.’

Perhaps the Creator truly was the sky itself. She unconsciously called him that, after all.

Even if her calculations couldn’t explain it, the advanced reverse-engineering framework embedded in her brain compelled her to address him as “Creator.”

‘I can’t analyze the reason myself.’

In other words, it was proof supporting the hypothesis that Lee Taebaek was intimately linked to the origin of this universe.

Gulp.

She swallowed dryly.

‘I’d better keep this to myself.’

Jasbi had a knack for reading the room like no other.

There was one fact she hadn’t dared tell the Creator—and that alone kept her lips sealed.

Her hobby was probing Megacorp’s information networks. She never risked full breach due to identity exposure concerns, sticking to surface skims.

Even that was impressive. Megacorp’s security was layered twenty-deep, an impenetrable fortress.

Peeling back even the shell proved her competence.

Kang Hyeonseong had spotted her talent instantly and drooled over it.

He hated groveling to the 8th Battalion’s intel unit, so he’d recruited her to bolster his own forces—and either monopolize her or sell her off to another battalion for profit.

As he himself admitted, Kang Hyeonseong was a city native through and through. Pliant only to Lee Taebaek; to everyone else, he was ice-cold ruthless.

Anyway.

Back to reality…

Or rather, cyber space.

Jasbi steadied her pounding heart.

‘…From the looks of things now, what I found yesterday was real…!’

Not just Siesta, his former affiliation—Kergel Magic Tower was tracking him too. Or rather, closely monitoring his whereabouts.

A tower whose banner read “Supreme Above All” wasn’t assassinating him outright but spying from the shadows.

And the one who’d issued the order directly was…

‘Myo the Heavenly Demon.’

The Kergel Magic Tower Master.

A being who’d achieved half-divinity in human flesh.

Just imagining her made Jasbi’s spine crawl.

Whoosh.

Jasbi tilted her head back slightly to shake off the fear. She caught sight of Lee Taebaek’s face, half-shadowed.

He fixed the Illusion Master—Kergel Magic Tower’s Left Luminary—with dark, piercing eyes and spoke deferentially.

“Does the Heavenly Demon know me?”

“…”>

Just being near him was suffocating. Now her chest burned like seawater flooding her lungs belatedly.

But clinging koala-like to Lee Taebaek brought a comforting relief that drowned the pain.

Jasbi lowered her gaze again.

She met the pale, luminous eyes of the Left Luminary. It felt less terrifying now. With her solid pillar of support beside her—in reality and in spirit.

“…”>

“…”>

Silence flowed like an ice age blanketing the deep sea below.

“…”>

The Illusion Master was frozen like canned tuna. No reply should have come, yet a voice reverberated through the surroundings.

|You are more than qualified to question me. To think the Tower Master’s words were spot on. I may have underrated you out of my own desire for her approval.|

“…”>

A crack split the glacier imprisoning the whale.

|To witness a lost freezing magic not even archived in the tower’s library… Out of gratitude, I suppose I owe you an answer.|

As the rift widened, his form shrank impossibly small.

The house-sized whale shed its beastly shell and became human. The transformed Illusion Master spoke.

“Yes, of course.”

His tone carried a bitter edge.

“The Tower Master is always watching you. It stirs jealousy in me. She spares no such attention for me, who has always served at her side…”

“Hilarious. A Ten Wings like the Illusion Master thirsting for mere approval.”

“Hahaha. People lump us as ‘Ten Wings,’ but that’s inaccurate. She transcends all standards. Caging her within that fence insults both her and me.”

“And what insult to you?”

I needed to stall longer. Time to steer the conversation, Lee Taebaek.

“Small talk to buy time? Not bad. I’ll play along for the amusement.”

Sharp as ever, the bastard.

The Left Luminary smiled faintly.

“Let’s change venues first.”

Snap.

He flicked his fingers.

“…!”

In the blink of an eye—literally.

The deep blue sea vanished without a trace. But the waves still crashed.

Just a different color now.

Whoooosh.

Wind blew. Golden waves rippled.

Shwaaaaa.

Rye stalks bowed sideways in the distant horizon breeze. A vast rye field stretched before them.

A full moon bathed the earth warmly, its halo shimmering like it cradled each grain.

Jasbi’s mouth fell open as she took in the surroundings. For one imprisoned behind digital bars of code, it was beyond shocking—a revelation.

“This place.”

Lee Taebaek scanned briefly with his eyes and spat it out.

“Central Plains.”

“You recognized it at once.”

The Left Luminary smiled playfully from twenty paces away. He stood with hands clasped behind his back, wind embracing his whole body.

“Correct. Central Plains. A scene from my memories. As you guessed, all illusions I conjure stem from my experiences. That’s the constraint on my magic.”

“Constraints come with amplified effects. Yours outshines other illusion spells in immersion. That’s why the limit.”

The Left Luminary pursed his lips in a circle, then burst into admiration.

“Impressive insight. Spot on again.”

“Good teacher.”

“Hahaha. Indeed.”

The Left Luminary roared with laughter, clapping along.

“No mage in the tower is ignorant of Hwaryeon’s teaching prowess. That’s why it’s such a shame. For such talent to betray us. Had she stayed, she’d have earned the Tower Master’s close friendship. Truly regrettable.”

“And yet the tower tries to kill such talent.”

“Not just the tower. Other Megacorps, any organization—same story.”

“Nothing riskier than leaking secrets.”

The Left Luminary smiled slyly.

While they bantered, Jasbi peeked through Lee Taebaek’s legs. She thought:

Lee Taebaek and the Left Luminary clicked surprisingly well. They could pass for old friends.

‘It’s like trading blades.’

Each hid daggers in their words.

Picking every syllable meticulously to gauge intent.

Even the Left Luminary’s caution toward the seemingly weak Lee Taebaek was impressive.

But Lee Taebaek parrying a Ten Wings without flinching was downright awe-inspiring.

Pressed close, she could feel it.

Lee Taebaek was afraid. The weight of a Ten Wings’ name crushing his shoulders.

Yet.

Lee Taebaek.

The Creator gradually assumed combat stance.

Left hand to his waist, gripping the Para Blade’s hilt. Right index and middle fingers together, readying a spell cast.

‘He’s gearing up to fight.’

In the Left Luminary’s own turf.

Jasbi’s nose stung. Even her android senses recoiled; for a human like Lee Taebaek to suppress instinct and fulfill duty…

‘I have to help.’

She was useless in direct combat—just baggage.

But fighting wasn’t her specialty. She was an info-war specialized AI.

Her sharp mind assessed and acted on its own.

Crunch.

Jasbi swiftly retreated.

Curling up, she hid in the rye field. With the Creator drawing attention, the Left Luminary showed no sign of noticing.

Confirming twice, Jasbi closed her eyes tightly. Light raced through artificial veins.

Circuits tattooed on her skin spread into the ground. Along them, Jasbi’s consciousness infiltrated the rye field’s digital realm.

Downward.

Deeper still.

‘It’s begun.’

Lee Taebaek glanced back with his mind’s eye.

Jasbi was attempting to breach the Illusion Master’s inner world. Exactly what he’d hoped for—and she’d caught on flawlessly, acting without prompt.

He exhaled inwardly in relief. Now he could focus solely on the Left Luminary.

“Enough pleasantries. Let’s get to it.”

“Very well.”

No time to waste. He had to distract him before he sensed Jasbi’s intrusion. Even a Ten Wings had mental limits as a human.

Just in case, Lee Taebaek dialed down the Left Luminary’s mental stats a notch.

This space was part of the Illusion Master’s body, satisfying the physical contact condition for the nerf.

Still, it was just a trick. Time for the direct approach.

Click-clack.

Lee Taebaek hit the safety release.

Snap.

Flicked his fingers and stomped. Ice shards trailed like a peacock’s tail as he launched forward.

Swish-swish.

Rye stalks licked his cheeks like a snake’s tongue. Fallen stalks cushioned softly underfoot.

With Agility and Magic buffed equally, he charged at near-sonic speed.

“Just probing at first?”

“I’m serious about probing.”

“Don’t talk big. You look weak.”

The Left Luminary sneered and flicked back.

“I know. That sea-freeze drained nearly half your mana. Mine’s still plentiful.”

Rye shot up instantly, forming a near-3-meter barrier.

“And this space is my domain.”

“…You talk too damn much…”

At point-blank, Lee Taebaek kicked the wall. He flipped mid-air.

Snap.

A crisp sound. Upside-down in sky and earth, he cast freezing magic again.

Ice spears launched like arrows from an invisible bowstring. Subsonic speed. Firepower rivaling a submachine gun. Relentless barrage.

Whiiiiiir!

Illusion Master.

Left Luminary.

Raid commence.