There Is No World For ■■

And once again, the present.

Having listened to Yeomyeong’s entire explanation up to this point, Balagu asked for confirmation.

“So... what you’re saying is, today, you guys took down both the dragon and the Eastern Court Lord?”

“In simple terms, yeah.”

“And while chasing Namgung Jeongbaek, you found a hidden passage, climbed a ladder, and ended up in this office?”

“Right. I didn’t expect you to have taken over the place before I got here, though.”

As he spoke, Yeomyeong lowered Namgung Jeongbaek’s unconscious body to the office floor. Balagu looked down at him with a complicated expression.

That’s when Namgung Jeongbaek, just barely regaining consciousness, caught sight of Balagu’s face and flinched in shock.

“Y-you... You... that Urgur...!”

His jaw had been shattered, making his words unintelligible, but given that he was looking at someone with his exact face, the intent was obvious.

Balagu stared at him for a moment, then turned to Yeomyeong.

“Yeomyeong, could you please remove the illusion on my face?”

Yeomyeong did so without hesitation. As Balagu’s face shifted back to that of a normal orc, Namgung Jeongbaek’s reaction grew even more violent.

“Y-you... youu...!!”

“It’s been a while, Master.”

“Y-you filthy—!”

“I’m glad we could meet again. Still munching on baby orc genitals? Still practicing magic on kids?”

The revolting words hit the air like poison. The Saint’s expression twisted instantly in disgust. Seti and Neti, having grown up as test subjects, didn’t even flinch.

Balagu’s voice remained detached.

“To be honest, I thought I didn’t have any emotions left for you.”

“Ah... ugh... you... you damn—”

“But maybe I was wrong. Seeing the wreck this city has become... seeing you again like this... I’m starting to feel a very familiar urge. The urge to cave your skull in right here.”

“...”

A short silence followed.

Then Balagu looked at Yeomyeong again and asked,

“Yeomyeong, this might be shameless of me to ask, but... if you’re going to kill Namgung Jeongbaek, would you let me be the one to do it?”

Yeomyeong didn’t answer immediately. He glanced at Seti.

If anyone had a rightful stake in deciding Namgung Jeongbaek’s fate, it was her.

Seti responded with a casual shrug. Yeomyeong nodded in return.

“...Do as you wish.”

“Thank you.”

Maybe that’s when it hit him—what was about to happen.

Despair spread across Namgung Jeongbaek’s face. He glared up at Yeomyeong while crawling along the floor.

“H-Holy... Earthling... Nenomie... God... GOD!!”

Yeomyeong didn’t avoid his gaze. He looked him dead in the eye and spoke firmly.

“Namgung Jeongbaek of Drayterial. Audrian.”

“...”

“You allied with Kahal Magdu and destroyed the railway. You took part in turning civilians into undead. Don’t act like you deserve to live.”

“God... will you judge... me? E-everything I did... was for His Majesty... You... all of you trash—ghk!”

He didn’t get to finish.

An orc’s boot crushed his back, pinning him to the floor.

Balagu stared down at him, unreadable, then pulled out the pistol Josef had given him and aimed it at the back of Jeongbaek’s head.

A few seconds later, just as the word Majesty... left Jeongbaek’s lips, and both the Saint and Neti turned their heads away—

The pistol fired.

A deafening shot rang out. The shell clattered to the floor. Shrapnel flew.

But no blood flowed.

At the very last moment, Balagu had jerked the gun to the side.

“...Why?”

Yeomyeong’s question carried layers of meaning.

Balagu let his shoulders sag and answered quietly.

“I... don’t really know. Maybe I didn’t want to execute someone in front of the girls. Or maybe... maybe one shot just didn’t feel like enough payback for years of slavery.”

“...”

“...I’m sorry.”

He holstered the pistol and wiped his face, then added in a half-apology,

“There’s a special prison beneath the castle. Built to contain mages. It’s sealed with a mana-suppressing spell circle—”

“No excuses.”

It was Seti who cut him off. She exchanged a brief look with Yeomyeong before speaking again.

“Come to think of it, we’re under contract, aren’t we?”

“...”

“I wanted to reward you for helping us seize the castle without bloodshed. But I don’t have any coin on me... what to do?”

Balagu’s eyes widened slightly.

Seti smirked and gave the exact answer he was expecting.

“Namgung Jeongbaek. I’ll give him to you. That piece of human trash might not be worth a single gold coin, but... value is relative, right?”

****

With Yeomyeong’s help, Balagu disguised himself once more with Namgung Jeongbaek’s face and locked the real Jeongbaek away in the castle’s underground prison.

Whether it was thanks to Balagu’s flawless performance or the illusionary mask cast over Jeongbaek’s face, no servants or guards suspected a thing.

With Jeongbaek’s situation handled, Balagu officially declared Yeomyeong’s group as “guests of honor” of the Eastern Court Lord.

Not that it meant much.

Basically, it just meant free beds and proper meals.

Considering how the city was in ruins, even that was a luxury. So the group accepted the title gladly.

The first thing they did as honored guests was send messengers to the dragon and to Corvus.

Neither of them were likely in danger, but still, it was better to be sure.

Once they saw the messengers leave the castle gates, the group headed to the bathhouse to wash off the blood and grime.

Thankfully, Josef had brought their belongings from the inn, so no one had to wear strange traditional robes or tunics.

The Saint did get a little giddy about wearing matching clothes with Seti... but Yeomyeong didn’t bother reacting. Or maybe he was just pretending not to notice.

In any case, once they were all cleaned up, they moved to the central hall of the castle, where a meal had been prepared.

On the long wooden tables filling the hall, there was too much food for it to be a normal meal, but not quite enough for a full feast.

Balagu had enlisted the help of some women he’d rescued, and they’d clearly gone all out. Most of the dishes were humble but time-consuming to make—commoner-style food.

Bean stew simmered in broth, roasted lamb with stacked vegetables, grilled bread.

Fried rice steamed in oil, thinly sliced and fried potatoes.

Herb-infused meatballs made in the Asha style, cheesy egg pie, a whole steamed fish...

“...Thank God there’s no spam,” Neti said with a sigh of relief after inspecting the buffet.

Yeomyeong let out a short laugh and sat beside her, joining the meal.

Technically, starting to eat before the host gave permission was a breach of etiquette. But with Balagu having dismissed all the servants, there was no one to call them out.

He’d probably done it so they could speak freely without eavesdroppers.

Yeomyeong was just thinking that as he deboned a lamb shank and placed the meat on Neti’s plate when, as expected, Balagu approached him.

“...Yeomyeong. Are you planning to leave this city now?”

Yeomyeong responded as he piled even more meat into Neti’s dish.

“Yeah. Assuming nothing comes up, I’ll be on my way.”

“If you leave now... this city will die.”

It was a sudden remark, but Yeomyeong understood exactly what he meant.

He knew full well what kind of shape the city was in.

The northern railway—the main supply route—had been destroyed. The Eastern Court Lords were dead or had fled. Corpses littered the streets.

It wouldn’t be surprising if mass riots broke out at any moment.

“I won’t ask you to stay for the city’s sake.”

“...Even if you did, I wouldn’t.”

“But you could still help us. Couldn’t you?”

Yeomyeong didn’t answer right away. He carefully deboned the steamed fish and laid the meat on Neti’s plate before finally speaking.

“...Balagu.”

“Yes, Yeomyeong.”

“There’s a saying—‘A powerless good is worse than evil.’ You ever heard that one?”

“...No. Is that an Earth proverb?”

“Yeah. A guy named Niccolò Machiavelli said it.”

There was a short pause. Yeomyeong flipped the fish over and continued speaking.

“You’re acting like this because you see me as a good person. I get that. I understand.”

“...”

“But... that’s your misunderstanding. Balagu, I’m not really a good person. And the one you should be asking for help right now...”

Yeomyeong scooped a large piece of fish onto a plate and held it out toward the Saint. Balagu’s eyes followed the plate, landing on her.

“...”

Wearing the same outfit as Seti, clinging to her side and giggling like a child.

Seeing that ridiculous display, Balagu’s brow twitched slightly.

Did I ruin the mood for no reason? Yeomyeong swallowed a bitter smile, then gestured toward her.

“She’s the Saint.”

“The... the Saint? As in—”

“Yeah. That Saint. From the Church of the Five Gods.”

Only then did Balagu’s gaze sharpen. The Saint, meanwhile, gave a look like, Why me, again?

“But her being here is a secret. She can’t do much directly. At most, she might be able to summon some Holy Knights and priests from the capital.”

At Yeomyeong’s words, the Saint nodded like it was no big deal.

Holy Knights and priests... Balagu’s face lit up with hope.

“...That alone would be more than enough.”

But the Saint wasn’t about to let him get his hopes too high. She laid out the hard truth, her tone firm.

“Don’t get too excited. Just getting the message to the capital will take ten days by train. And there’s no train right now. Even if we send word immediately, they’d need a car, and that means it’ll take at least a month.”

The cold reality could have crushed him—but Balagu didn’t let go of hope.

“So we just have to hold out for a month.”

Why is he going this far? Yeomyeong leaned his chin into his hand, studying him.

Was it because of his past? A slave, then a nomad, then a slave trader. Maybe that shaped his resolve now?

Yeomyeong didn’t know. Didn’t need to.

Right now, all that mattered was offering advice—as a friend.

“Balagu, go find Josef.”

“...Josef?”

“Go to him now. Strike a deal. Buy up every weapon he has. And if you can, call in the desert tribes. Take control of the city.”

“...What? Take control?”

“I think if you assert dominance with overwhelming force, you can hold peace in the city for a month. Right?”

That last question was directed at Seti. She answered while chewing the fish the Saint had fed her.

“Mm, yeah, probably. Most of the big gangs were wiped out in the sewers, so there shouldn’t be many large groups left... If you merge the Court Lord’s remaining forces with the nomads and grow your numbers, you could keep the peace.”

“...”

“But don’t show mercy. Until the railway’s restored, resources will be scarce. If you look weak, they’ll pounce. And also...”

Seti’s gaze drifted toward the hall’s exit—out toward the city sky.

“If the dragon says just one word, that should settle things. If he backs Balagu—disguised as Namgung Jeongbaek—then I don’t think anyone will stir up trouble for a while.”

Of course... only if the dragon agrees to play along.

****

Even without the dragon, the rest of the plan could be set in motion right away.

Balagu thanked the group and left the hall to negotiate with Josef. Soon after finishing their meal, the group followed a servant to their assigned room.

But the room...

“Why is there only one?”

It was the largest room in the castle—large enough to fit the entire group in a single, massive bed.

“...Maybe there was a mix-up?” Seti said casually, then flopped onto the huge bed without a second thought. It was softer than anything at the inn—practically luxurious.

“Yeomyeong? You must be tired. Come lie down already.”

She patted the space next to her invitingly. That’s when Yeomyeong finally realized she was messing with him and shook his head.

“I’m good. I’ll let the Saint have your side.”

“...”

Now that Yeomyeong had opened the door, the Saint didn’t hesitate to dive into the joke. She rushed to the bed, threw herself down next to Seti, and wrapped her arms around her.

Seti giggled, the Saint rubbed her cheek against hers, and Yeomyeong, completely unfazed, reached for the cord to summon a servant.

Neti, watching the whole absurd scene unfold, summed it up in a single line.

“...This isn’t a love triangle. It’s a shitshow.”

Yeomyeong didn’t confirm or deny that.

He just pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat by the window, waiting for the servant to arrive.

He was deliberately keeping his distance. Whether it was a joke or not, lying in the same bed as two girls at once was a boldness he simply didn’t have.

Likewise, Neti—having had her illusions about the Saint completely shattered—chose not to get on the bed either. She sat in the chair across from Yeomyeong.

A quiet moment passed between them. Not heavy, not long—just silence.

Eventually, the sun began to set. When the Saint and Seti, completely drained, passed out cold at nearly the same time—

Neti was the one to break the silence.

“Brother-in-law, there’s something about the advice you gave Balagu that I’ve been wondering.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“His face. I mean, once you leave, there won’t be anyone left to cast the illusion spell for him. What’s he going to do then...?”

Yeomyeong cut her off mid-sentence.

“He’ll probably just wear a mask.”

“...What about the rest of his green skin?”

“He’ll wear clothes that cover everything. Gloves for the hands. You really think Balagu didn’t plan for that? He started this whole Namgung Jeongbaek act knowing full well he’d have to live with all of it.”

“Why—”

Why go that far? Neti didn’t even get the words out before Yeomyeong answered.

“I don’t know.”

“...”

“Maybe he’s just trying to be a good person. Maybe it’s guilt. Don’t overthink it. Sometimes a good person just happens to be in the right place at the right time. Like a flower blooming in a trash heap.”

A flower in a trash heap. Neti rolled the phrase over on her tongue and stared at Yeomyeong.

He looked tired, leaning into the back of his chair, gazing out the window.

“...You’re a good person too.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

And at that exact moment, as if by coincidence, the sunset tilted past the window, casting a deep shadow across Yeomyeong’s face.

His features were split evenly—half in shadow, half bathed in golden light. Beneath that strange balance of darkness and glow, he smiled.

“As long as I’m a good person to you guys, that’s enough.”

You guys? Neti almost asked if he meant the four sisters... but then she suddenly remembered that Yeomyeong shared the same face as Yang Soyu.

No... no way.

No way, right?

Neti glanced at his face again, then suddenly sensed something was off and stood up.

She didn’t know why, but her ears were ringing.

Instead of trying to explain or understand the feeling, she walked over to the other side of the bed and lay down behind her sleeping sister.

Thankfully, Yeomyeong didn’t say anything else. Neti drifted toward the world of dreams.

Or... she tried to.

Because just as she pulled the blanket up under her chin—

Tap. Tap. Tap! A sharp knocking sound rang in her ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ ears.

Thankfully, it wasn’t the sound of her own heartbeat.

She raised her head to check—and found the source.

A raven was tapping on the window in the center of the room.

More accurately, a raven the size of a large dog was pecking at the glass.

Neti stared in a daze, completely dumbfounded.

And then Yeomyeong stood and opened the window.

The raven flew in immediately and—

“Terrible disciple! Absolutely disgraceful! How could you do this?! Sharing a room with three women—sleeping in the same bed, no less!”

—launched into a tirade at Yeomyeong.

Ranting about proper sexual conduct, polygamous religions, and what it meant to be virtuous.

The entire thing was so surreal that Neti was left speechless.

Am I dreaming? she wondered, then reached out to pinch both her sister and the Saint on the cheek at the same time.

Ah. Not a dream. They both woke up and immediately retaliated by pummeling her.