In a quiet outdoor garden set beneath the early evening sky, Seo Ho-Su sat across from a famous show host with a small campfire burning steadily between them. The program was already a famous variety show, and Seo Ho-Su was familiar with it, so the atmosphere never felt awkward or forced.

“So I just kicked off the ground and charged straight ahead. Enemies were pouring in from the front, and the climbers behind me weren’t in great shape. There wasn’t time to think things through, and they say a warrior stands at the front. Someone has to protect their allies.”

He puffed his chest out slightly, the muscles that had grown massive during his climb shifting subtly beneath his clothes.

The host smiled and followed up as if it were a spontaneous question. “Like when you rescued your daughter?”

In reality, it was part of the prepared script.

“Of course.”

“I have a daughter myself. When I watched that scene, I couldn’t stop myself from tearing up. It was incredibly moving.”

“Haha. It really wasn’t anything special.” Seo Ho-Su laughed as he looked away, clearly a little embarrassed.

Truth be told, Seo Ho-Su had come to be known as the “Nation’s Dad.” That reputation stemmed from the moment he had thrown himself forward to protect Seo Ha-Rin. Other climbers had done similar things, but the fact that he had acted for his daughter, combined with his position as a top-ranked climber in Kwon Su-Hyeok’s party, drew far more attention. After that event, he continued to show his affection for his daughter and had consistently protected his party members, reinforcing that image even further.

Clearly enjoying the conversation, Seo Ho-Su added with an easy smile, “And that’s when I put my head to work. Step one was grabbing their attention. So I used the Ho-Yeol Sword Art, Fourth Form, Void Rampage, ensuring that everyone nearby had their eyes on me.”

The host laughed lightly. He had asked about Seo Ho-Su’s interests in advance and skimmed through some martial arts novels, allowing him to follow the explanation well enough.

“Still, it looked dangerous.”

“It probably did, but it was calculated to a degree. I had no intention of going down with them. I knew Hee-Jeong would come to help soon.”

“Oh, that’s right. Ms. Ha Hee-Jeong was incredible at that moment as well. Should I say she was beautiful? Either way, that wave of flames came rushing in all at once.”

“That’s right. You saw it clearly.” Seo Ho-Su nodded his head a couple of times, a gesture of firm affirmation.

He had rewatched the scene after coming back to Earth, but seeing it in person had been different. It had left a lasting impact.

The broadcast continued in a warm and relaxed mood. Seo Ho-Su was an easygoing person, and the production team had made a clear effort to accommodate him. While Seo Ho-Su had accepted the appearance because he wanted to, for the network, securing a climber of his rank was a rare opportunity.

Once the conversation had settled, the host carefully asked, “What kind of person is Light Su-Hyeok to you?”

Although the show utilized a loose script and he had already prepared a response, Seo Ho-Su hesitated. When he thought about it, the debt he owed Kwon Su-Hyeok was too great to put into words. That was true not only for him, but for Earth and all the climbers as well. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

He wondered whether it was even possible to summarize Kwon Su-Hyeok’s personality and impact in a couple of sentences. Despite how casually he interacted with him, Seo Ho-Su held deep respect for Kwon Su-Hyeok.

After a brief pause, he gave the answer he had prepared, “What else is there to say? Like everyone calls him, Su-Hyeok is the light of climbers and humanity. Without him, conquering the tower would’ve been impossible. Neither Ha-Rin nor I would’ve returned to Earth.”

The atmosphere grew a little heavier. The host nodded and followed up, “Could you tell us more about Light Su-Hyeok’s journey? Being there probably felt quite a bit more intense than what the videos show.”

“Well, he stood out from the beginning. He built the foundation of the party, saved people like me, and guided us forward. There’s honestly too much to put into words,” he smiled faintly and continued, “In fact, you may know him better than I do. I only realized this after returning to Earth. You were able to watch Su-Hyeok through the broadcasts the entire time.”

The fact that their actions had been broadcast to the entire world came as a pleasant surprise to many, and a nasty surprise to a select few. For the most part, however, compilations of popular climbers’ exploits were the most common, and some felt proud watching themselves while others felt embarrassed or uncomfortable. Seo Ho-Su leaned closer to the former.

The host smoothly shifted the topic, “You’re often called the ‘Nation’s Dad’ or the ‘Iron Wall.’ How do you feel about those nicknames?”

Seo Ho-Su smiled broadly. “Haha. I’m just grateful.”

The nicknames paid homage to his combat style, which fundamentally centered on protecting his party members. He had always appreciated that kind of recognition, so his response had come straight from the heart. Of course, with Seo Ha-Rin supporting him on the front line, plus Cole, Ha Hee-Jeong, and Hakin’s offensive might, it had allowed him to shine as they steamrolled their opponents.

Everyone in the party excelled at their respective roles, so situations that truly pushed them to the brink were relatively rare. Even so, in more than a few moments, Seo Ho-Su had unhesitatingly thrown himself forward in the face of danger. Well, he had also done that during moments that hadn’t been particularly perilous, but the sight still appeared almost sacred to anyone who had spectated it then or watched it in the future.

On several occasions, hundreds of monsters had charged toward the party, yet he had charged alone with his shield raised, placing himself squarely between the threat and his allies. Because of that, Seo Ho-Su was ranked fifth among the climbers most beloved by people around the world. Naturally, first place belonged to Kwon Su-Hyeok.

“By the way, between the two nicknames, which one do you prefer? As a father, would you say you like ‘Nation’s Dad’ better?”

“Hmm. That does give me something to think about...” Seo Ho-Su paused briefly, then smiled.“Well, if I have to choose, I think I actually prefer ‘Iron Wall.’”

“Really?”

“Yes. ‘Nation’s Dad’ is a good nickname, too, of course, but ‘Iron Wall’ captures my essence of wanting to protect something, doesn’t it? And while I’m grateful for being called the Nation’s Dad, what I like most is simply being Ha-Rin’s father.”

“Ah!”

The host’s eyes widened slightly as it dawned on him. “As expected of Ha-Rin’s father. I should really take a page out of your book.”

Seo Ho-Su laughed softly, clearly satisfied with his own answer.

“Speaking of which, your daughter, Ms. Seo Ha-Rin, is often called the Saintess of Korea.”

His smile deepened, becoming what could only be described as a doting father. “Oh, I’m incredibly proud of her. She’s always been such a kind child.”

Originally, Seo Ha-Rin’s nickname had been “Kara Zim,” the name of a character from a well-known video game series. It had spread alongside a popular saying that stated a true healer wasn’t someone who merely treated damage, but one who sought out and eliminated the source of that damage.

However, Seo Ha-Rin’s actions after returning to Earth had completely transformed that nickname into something else entirely.

After spending some time with her family, she had headed straight to the hospital, dedicating herself to healing the ill and infirm. Requests had come pouring in from politicians and businessfolk, but she never wavered. Instead, she was traveling the nation, helping those suffering from incurable diseases or teetering on the brink of death. Naturally, that had displeased some powerful figures, but none of them could touch the climbers under Kwon Su-Hyeok’s protection.

Seo Ho-Su and the host exchanged a few more words, and then the host glanced toward the director.

Reading the room, he smoothly steered the conversation in a new direction. “How is your new home? Is it meeting your expectations?”

“Hoh, yes. Of course. Our country prepared everything very well. I’m grateful for that, haha.” Seo Ho-Su chuckled lightly.

The script had contained far more explicit praise for the government, but Seo Ho-Su deliberately kept his response brief. It wasn’t that the script was inaccurate, but he simply didn’t feel the need to emphasize it.

It was true that the nation had taken steps to protect the families of climbers. However, in Seo Ho-Su’s mind, that consideration existed only because of Kwon Su-Hyeok. If the climbers hadn’t gained such overwhelming attention on Earth, or if they hadn’t been expected to return, they would never have been treated with this level of care. Therefore, Seo Ho-Su believed that all of that goodwill should be attributed to Kwon Su-Hyeok alone.

The director’s expression tightened slightly, but he wasn’t in any position to voice his dissatisfaction.

With the ease of someone seasoned by years on air, the host smoothed over the subtle stiffness and added, “Then lastly, we’d like to talk about Light Su-Hyeok’s recent whereabouts. Ever since his dramatic return at Gwanghwamun, public interest in his activities has been overwhelming. Unfortunately, no one seems to know where he is. Ho-Su, you seem like you may have an idea. Care to share anything with us?”

At the question, Seo Ho-Su recalled his meeting with Kwon Su-Hyeok just a few days earlier. Kwon Su-Hyeok had looked content, though his expression had contained a faint amount of weariness.

“I’m going to rest for a while. From what I can tell, nothing urgent is about to happen. I’ll come see you later.”

His interest in taking a break was only natural. The other climbers had been granted several months of rest at the rest area, enough time to recover both mentally and physically. However, that hadn’t been the case for Kwon Su-Hyeok. Up until the moment he returned to Earth, he had never truly rested, spending every waking moment either training or fighting. He needed time with Ha Hee-Jeong and his family. Time away from everything else.

“Please don’t worry too much. Su-Hyeok is resting well.” Seo Ho-Su smiled gently at the camera. “I know that people not only here, but all around the world, are waiting to hear from him.”

He paused slightly, choosing his words with care. “But as everyone already knows, Su-Hyeok has been running nonstop for decades. I hope we can give our Light Su-Hyeok a little time of his own.”

“That’s right! You’re absolutely right.”

Watching the host respond with exaggerated agreement on the screen, Kwon Su-Hyeok couldn’t help but grumble as he lay on the bed beside Ha Hee-Jeong.

“Seriously, why does he always say things like that? I told him, if anyone asked, to just say he didn’t know.”

“Why? It isn’t that strange.”

“I just wanted to rest without worrying about anything for a while. But when he says things like that, it makes me feel like I’ll have to go back out sooner...” Kwon Su-Hyeok trailed off.

Ha Hee-Jeong found his expression amusing and let out a quiet laugh as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about what’s happening outside. Just rest properly. Hendrick said he’d handle things for now.”

Kwon Su-Hyeok fell silent, thinking it over, then slowly nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.”

He slipped an arm around Ha Hee-Jeong’s shoulders and pulled her a little closer.

***

Seo Ha-Rin, known to the world as the Saintess of Korea, was busy at the hospital. She had spent a bit of time with her mom this morning, but she had inevitably returned to what had become her everyday routine.

Seo Ho-Su had asked if she wanted to appear on the broadcast with him, but she declined. For her, the people came first. If she could ease even a fraction of the suffering endured by those living with incurable illnesses or terminal diagnoses, then that was where she needed to be.

Her actions weren’t impulsive, nor were they born from a sudden sense of obligation after returning to Earth.

When the climbers had gathered at the rest area, those with similar combat styles or classes had often spent long hours talking amongst themselves. With the multitude of differing backgrounds among the climbers, they had shared experiences, hardships, and practical knowledge unique to their roles. In fact, the members of Ha Hee-Jeong’s party had often offered their knowledge to others due to their position near the top of the leaderboard.

Having experienced climbing the tower to the ninetieth floor in her past life, Ha Hee-Jeong’s guidance had allowed them to act decisively—without unnecessary trial and error. The conversations unrelated to combat had always taken on a different tone, though.

“What do you think will happen to us once we return to Earth?”

“Won’t we be more valuable there than in any other old job?”

“If we go to hospitals and chant healing spells, won’t we become rich? The wealthy will be lining up.”

Conversations like those had circulated among the priests during the middle floors. At the time, they had been hopeful assumptions, made under the belief that every climber would safely leave the tower under Kwon Su-Hyeok’s leadership.

Many had believed that the priests and mages would have far more opportunities on Earth than the warriors or archers. Truthfully, that wasn’t entirely wrong. Since Earth lacked constant combat, priests naturally held greater value. That was especially considering that during the tower’s early stages, priests in the bottom half of the Leaderboard had often been treated as little more than excess baggage. As the trials had grown more punishing, those hopeful musings had been met with sharp rebukes.

“You can think about money after you survive. Focus on your job for now.”

“And if you do make money, you’d better share it with your party members. How many times have they saved you until now?”

Then, upon entering the latter half of the tower, their perspective had shifted yet again. Priests had originally cast holy spells using mana. However, after a certain point, Kwon Su-Hyeok’s divinity replaced that mana entirely.

As they had neared the ninetieth floor, they had encountered fewer and fewer chances to exert their full strength, but the truth had been undeniable. In the end, witnessing Kwon Su-Hyeok’s actions during the last ten floors had finally settled the priests’ hearts.

“Our divinity comes from Su-Hyeok. Is it really okay to make money from it?”

“Won’t it be better to help the sick and the suffering first, and only then think about compensation?”

“If, after returning to Earth and offering our services, people thank us each time we help them, then all of that gratitude should be credited to Kwon Su-Hyeok.”

Those discussions had continued post-return, and Seo Ha-Rin was among those leading them. She had already spoken with Kwon Su-Hyeok about it as well, and it had turned out that he had been thinking along similar lines to begin with. All he ended up doing was telling her to do as she wished, promising his full support.

No one had objected.

Without Kwon Su-Hyeok, most of them would have died somewhere within the tower, and conquering it would never have been possible. Those shared resolutions became even clearer after the hundredth floor was completed.

Of course, priests capable of performing incredible miracles were rare. Skilled ones could heal illnesses beyond the reach of modern medicine, but for most, their abilities were limited to handling physical trauma.

Even so, that alone was more than enough.

Many people died because of such injuries, but thanks to the influx of priests, those crucial golden hours of when a person could be saved were extended. Even flesh torn apart could be restored in an instant. Beyond that, their holy spells could dramatically reduce the risk of surgery and any recovery period.

Some individuals raised legal concerns, but the debates were short-lived. Once a handful of countries swiftly revised their laws, everything moved forward without resistance. Fees were kept to a minimum. All records and compensation were registered through the Priest Association established on Earth.

Seo Ha-Rin made one thing clear. Anyone who used holy spells for personal greed should be prepared to lose their divinity. Because that divinity came from Kwon Su-Hyeok, and because she was personally connected to him, there was no backlash.

Whoosh—

The radiance blooming from Seo Ha-Rin’s hands slowly faded.

Another patient had just been cured of a previously incurable disease through Kwon Su-Hyeok’s divinity.

Whether flaring brilliantly or diminishing gently, the light was a sacred sight. No matter how many times they witnessed it, the doctors and nurses standing behind her could never truly grow accustomed to it. They closed their eyes briefly, committing the fading glow to memory.

Sumen.

The medical professionals silently prayed, hoping that such miraculous power would one day be granted to them as well.

Meanwhile, the patient lying on the bed started breathing normally again, and their complexion regained a healthy glow. Beside them, their guardian stood frozen in place, mouth half open, staring at the miracle that had unfolded before their eyes.