Can someone really change overnight just because they make up their mind?
That’s impossible.
Even someone with strong willpower can’t completely transform themselves overnight, and most people, whose will is weak, wouldn’t keep their resolve for more than a few days at best.
But from the moment Alje pulled away from Hans on her own, without him pushing her away — that’s when she changed.
She no longer complained or showed any signs of displeasure.
Instead, she meticulously spread the still-wet mud from Hans’s body onto her own skin without hesitation, even though it would surely damage her smooth, porcelain-like complexion.
She didn’t just trail behind Hans anymore — she willingly shared the burden of their luggage, boasting about her own strength and even carrying more weight than Hans.
Despite that, her light and nimble movements remained unchanged, as if she wasn’t carrying anything at all.
“…..”
It was clear the girl felt guilty toward Hans and was trying her best.
But honestly, Hans didn’t like it.
Of course, he would never admit that out loud.
How absurd would it be to ask a child who realized she was being a burden and vowed to change… to stay exactly as she was before?
Especially when he hadn’t even been generous enough to accept her burdens with grace.
It was selfishness — an irrational desire.
So Hans kept his silence, though he couldn’t completely hide the subtle discomfort in his gaze.
“Mister?”
“Shh. Quiet.”
Crawling along the ground, her body covered in mud, Alje was — surprisingly — still beautiful.
But that beauty had been brought down from the heavens to the earth.
She had become like everyone else — maybe kinder and gentler than most, but still just another human commonly seen in the labyrinth.
And Hans hated that.
He wanted Alje to remain pure, to stay special.
He wanted the girl who still possessed what he had long lost to remain untouched, unchanged.
He knew it was selfish and unrealistic.
He couldn’t possibly protect her from the harsh storms of the world forever.
“From now on, we’ll call the Seraph of Dawn.”
An ideal is called an “ideal” precisely because it lies beyond the reach of ordinary people.
Some rare individuals may manage to live in reality while striving toward those ideals, but Hans was not one of them.
He was someone who struggled just to avoid falling below the line — someone for whom dealing with the immediate reality was overwhelming enough.
Hans looked ahead.
The mushroom-shaped rock he had noted earlier stood tall before him, and by his side stood the girl — no longer as radiant in her beauty, but having gained something else in exchange.
At their feet lay the severed mandibles of the Execution Bugs they had moved several times and a few sticky fistweed fruits scattered nearby.
“…..”
Hans hadn’t explained a thing — but Alje no longer asked any questions.
Without a single word of instruction, she moved with the ease of someone who already understood his thoughts.
She broke the Execution Bugs’ jaws without hesitation, taking care to avoid getting splattered with their fluids — not because she was afraid of the filth, but to prevent the stench from clinging to her.
The old Alje would never have been able to stay calm around the bugs, let alone touch them with her bare hands.
The speed of her transformation was so jarring it felt unnatural.
But Hans couldn’t bring himself to say anything because every time she turned to look at him, her eyes softened into that familiar amber hue — the same gentle glow he had always known.
Silently watching her, Hans eventually joined in.
Since his grip strength wasn’t enough to break the Execution Bugs’ jaws, he focused on placing the severed parts and the bright red fruits onto a flat stone slab one by one.
Once everything was prepared, the array of insects and fruits laid out on the wide, flat surface looked almost like a meal ready to be served.
Tap, tap.
Hans nudged Alje’s shoulder, signaling her to look his way, then used a hunter’s hand signal: Let’s go back.
And though she shouldn’t have known that signal, the girl responded with a natural, fluid motion — as if she had known it all along — and moved closer to his side.
The two of them moved away from the mushroom-shaped rock, their low-crawling posture making for a rather comical sight.
The rock stood so prominently, like a landmark, that even after they put some distance between themselves and it, they could still keep it in view.
Hiding behind a shadowy ridge, the two finally caught their breath.
“Phew.”
“Alje, this is..…”
“Because this is one of the wind paths the Seraph of Dawn frequents, right?”
That’s right.
It wasn’t exactly a well-guarded secret.
Any seasoned hunter knew the routes and cycles of the large monsters in the labyrinth.
The Seraph of Dawn roamed tirelessly like a migratory bird, but its paths were fairly consistent — making them perfect for setting traps.
Of course, no ordinary trap could hold a creature of such immense power — it would only enrage it.
But for a creative hunter, there were always other strategies to consider.
Hans wasn’t the first to attempt something like this, and he wouldn’t be the last.
“…..Yeah, you know your stuff.”
“Hehe.”
Since Hans had turned his head to keep watch outside, Alje didn’t see the way his expression hardened.
But behind his back, his face was set in a grim, frozen mask.
Suspicion had turned into doubt — and now that doubt was transforming into certainty.
A girl who was supposed to know nothing about the labyrinth… knew far too much.
Was she lying?
Had she actually lived in the labyrinth far longer than she claimed?
Hans rejected the idea.
The purity and innocence she radiated couldn’t possibly have survived in this brutal place.
And there was no real benefit in deceiving him this way.
But when you considered what the girl really might be… the simplest answer was right in front of him.
A mimic monster.
Hans said nothing.
This wasn’t the right time to bring it up.
Instead, he forced himself to relax his tense body, lowered his head a little to close the distance between them, and leaned loosely against the rock that concealed them.
“Get some rest. We don’t know when it’ll show up. Could be a few hours… or a few days.”
The girl’s once overwhelming scent had been completely erased by the smell of earth.
Even covered in dirt, Alje was still beautiful — but at this moment, Hans’s heart didn’t waver in the slightest.
Even if she had been at her most stunning, it would’ve been the same.
Hans was a man who didn’t deny his own desires — but above all, he was faithful to his instinct for survival.
That’s why, even with their bodies so close, he wasn’t swayed by his own desires.
“Mm, mister.”
Naturally, Alje rested her head on his shoulder.
The light pressure of her skin was soft and gentle, her scattered hair tickling the nape of his neck.
Despite days of wandering outside, her hair remained smooth and clean, without a hint of grease.
In contrast, Hans’s appearance was an absolute mess.
Dust, dried sweat, and grime clung to him, and the mud carefully spread over his skin only helped him blend into the labyrinth — but it did nothing to mask the unpleasant stench rising from him.
It was a pungent, musty odor, far from anything pleasant.
Yet the girl, so suddenly mature and composed, showed no sign of discomfort.
Despite their similar state, Alje gave off no such foul scent — instead, there was only a faint, almost scentless trace.
Time passed in silence.
Hans pulled out a crude bow and lightly plucked the string.
Whizz!
An arrow flew, piercing one of the fruits and splitting it open.
The air immediately filled with its sweet, sticky fragrance.
They’d have to keep doing this — releasing the scent every few hours — until their target picked up the trail.
And once that was done, they had no choice but to wait — unable to even breathe too loudly.
“……”
“……”
For a hunter, patience was a familiar companion — but not for ordinary people.
Yet Alje endured it well.
For hours on end, she stayed silent — not entirely relaxed, but not fully tense either, maintaining a careful balance.
Her fingers traced shapes on the ground, drawing letters in the dirt.
She seemed to have something she wanted to say to Hans — but unfortunately, Hans was illiterate.
“…..?”
After writing several times without getting any reaction, the girl seemed to give up.
With their target’s senses so keen and its arrival time uncertain, even the slightest sound could be dangerous.
In the end, Alje quietly covered her written words with earth once again.
“Mister, am I doing well?”
“Is this the right way?”
“…Can’t you read?”
“Mister…”
From far off in the distance, a faint, fluttering sound began to rise.
It was like the sound of wings — yet not quite.
It was like the swelling of a sail catching the wind, or the crash of waves against the shore.
Rhythmic yet majestic — a sound too immense and distant to belong to any single living creature.
Hans slowly rose to his feet.
Alje followed suit, and as she did, she rubbed out the last words she had written in the dirt with her foot.
“…You’re not planning to abandon me, are you?”