Dusk (BL Light Novel)

The screen, which had been leisurely showing off the forest, suddenly panned downward—
zooming in on a pair of heavy combat boots trampling through the undergrowth without hesitation.
The camera traced up from the toes to the legs, and then to Abrea’s face, with the spirit perched lightly on his shoulder.

Wherever Abrea passed, tiny lights peeked out from between the leaves like meerkats,
watching him intently—
they were the forest spirits.
One by one, the spirits who’d been staring at Abrea’s back took flight, chasing after him.
Abrea, lost in thought, eventually slowed his steps and came to a stop in front of an unripe flower bud.
Reaching out, he brushed his fingers against it—
and the spirits immediately fluttered over, coaxing the tightly curled petals to bloom in an instant.
Watching it happen,
Abrea’s face remained unreadable, utterly blank.

In the span of a few seconds, the freshly bloomed flower withered and gave way to a golden fruit.
The spirits glanced up at Abrea with expectant faces, but he showed no reaction whatsoever.
At that moment, a member of the Dopa tribe dressed in Aideas garb descended gently from the sky, landing on the ground.
As soon as this appeared, someone in the audience blurted out, “Flying!” in a shrill voice.
The outburst drew a ripple of laughter from those nearby.
If it really turned out to be a flyable zone, that would be awesome.
I’d finally get to dogfight Gang Jaegyung in the air.
Aerial combat was a completely different beast compared to fighting on the ground.
It’d be hilarious to see him flailing, too, since he’d never properly experienced it.

— "Abrea."
While my thoughts wandered, the newly arrived Dopa called out to Abrea.
But Abrea merely gave a slight nod, still idly toying with the golden fruit the spirits had forced into bloom.
It was the kind of behavior that would normally be insulting—
but the Dopa seemed accustomed to it, responding without offense.

— "Adam is summoning you."
— "…The small house? Or the research hall?"
— "He’s at the small house."
— "I'll head there now."
Without hesitation, Abrea moved to leave—
but paused to glance once more at the golden fruit in his hand.
Then, without ceremony, he roughly plucked the fruit and tossed it to the Dopa, striding away without a second glance.
The researcher, caught off guard, cradled the fruit in both hands awkwardly.
The spirits who had created the fruit fluttered cautiously closer—
then, as if by agreement, poof—
they erased the golden fruit from existence and scattered in a flurry.

— "Of course, they only send people like me…"
Apparently, he was so used to Abrea’s attitude that he barely even minded being brushed off anymore.
Nearby, the undergrowth rustled faintly.
The Dopa researcher turned toward the sound—
and, seeing someone approach, lowered his head in a respectful bow.

The trailer didn’t reveal who it was—
instead, the perspective shifted back to Abrea.
He had arrived at a small cabin isolated deep within the forest.
So that was the "small house."
Pushing past the entrance, he descended underground—
and there, beneath the deceptively tiny exterior, stretched a vast library.
Papers littered the floor; drawings and handwritten notes plastered the walls in chaotic layers.

Amid the mess, Adam sat at a desk, staring intently at something.
Abrea tiptoed carefully over the scattered papers to approach him, his expression tight with irritation.
Without even looking up to see who had come, Adam spoke first:
— "I told you it wouldn’t work, didn’t I?"
— "I never said I succeeded."
— "So you failed, then?"
— "…Yeah."
I didn’t know what they were talking about exactly,
but it was obvious that something wasn’t going well.

Abrea slumped into an empty chair near the desk, grumbling:
— "Those damn old farts.
The moment I even open my mouth, they start causing a scene,
and they don’t even consider helping."
Adam sighed heavily.

— "I told you to give up on the hardliners.
Just the sight of a Shinaja is enough to make them lose their minds."
— "I can’t.
Without the Elders, I can’t even get near the Land Tribe."
— "Even if I offered to punch a hole through for you?"

— "How many times do I have to say I don’t want your help?"
For Hoa's sake, too.
Abrea muttered that under his breath.
Adam lifted both hands in surrender—
it was clear he wasn’t going to argue any further.

Instead, he changed the subject.
— "Since Aideas operatives from both the Dopa and Via tribes have been sniffing around,
the Witerahit bastards have caught the scent too.
They'll probably break through the maze in a few months and find this place."
The fact that Aideas forces from multiple tribes were now working together was unsettling enough—
but Adam didn’t seem overly worried.
It was Abrea who buried his face in his hands in frustration.

— "I haven’t even met the Land Tribe yet, and already…"
— "It’s fine.
You’ll pull it off."
— "…You’re suddenly being nice. Weird."

Abrea gave him a wary look.
But Adam just repeated it calmly:
— "I’m not praising you.
I'm telling you—you will do it."

Abrea fell silent.
It seemed he understood what Adam meant.
His expression hardened, and he spoke with difficulty:
— "Still, I can’t just sit still.
I have to act."
— "And that’s why you’ll be used."

— "Then I’ll just use the gods right back."
…What the hell were they talking about?
I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
Was it because I only knew the story in broad strokes?
Maybe this would all make sense after the next update and the next main quest.
I glanced sideways at Gang Jaegyung.
Had he understood it?
I wanted to ask—
but seeing how focused he was, completely absorbed in the screen, I swallowed the words.

While I was sneaking a look at him, faint footsteps echoed in the trailer.
Adam and Abrea both stiffened at the sound.
The light tapping of heeled shoes descending a staircase grew louder and closer.
Abrea’s expression tightened with wary tension.

Just as the source of the sound drew near—
the familiar purple spirit on Abrea’s shoulder sprang into the air,
transforming into a massive scythe with twin blades.
Grabbing it without hesitation,
Abrea swung it at the door with all his strength.
Gasps of awe erupted throughout the arena.
I too held my breath as I watched Abrea swing that scythe with terrifying force.

It was a new class.
— "Hey, wait—!"
Before °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° Adam could stop him,
Abrea swung again—
and the door, torn from its hinges, slammed into the wall.

Standing there in the threshold was a hooded figure.
— "Who the hell are you?"
Abrea growled, wings bristling, his voice low and feral.
But the figure didn’t answer.
They simply muttered something too quiet to hear.

Suddenly—
a golden spirit materialized,
and from it rose a towering golem—
sleek, angular, and razor-sharp, unlike the clunky, sluggish golems we’d seen before.
The audience let out a chorus of amazed exclamations.
— "Hey, no, wait—!"

Adam seemed to realize something, trying frantically to stop him.
But Abrea, already blinded by adrenaline, darted forward with breathtaking speed.
The golem raised a translucent shield just in time to block the scythe's blow—
the impact scattering papers everywhere.
— "Ah, goddamn it!"

While Abrea and the stranger clashed with deadly seriousness,
Adam alone scrambled around, frantically trying to save his precious documents.
Each time Abrea and the golem exchanged blows, the shockwaves sent another storm of papers into the air.
Neither side was holding back.
Abrea's vicious, grounded attacks and the golem’s sharp, multi-purpose counter-moves gripped the crowd’s attention.

Every time a move looked strong or overpowered, someone in the audience would gasp or shout.
No one gave a damn about Adam’s suffering.
Finally, once a few papers got torn apart completely,
Adam snapped—
grabbing a bunch of vials off the desk and hurling them toward the fighters.
Abrea dodged easily, leaping back.
The vials splashed across the golem instead,
the strange liquid dissolving its form into nothing.

The limp golden spirit fluttered weakly back toward the hooded stranger.
With the immediate danger over, Adam screamed:
— "Fine, I get it if it’s Abrea! But YOU—I don’t even know who the hell you are!"

At least Abrea wasn’t getting scolded.
He just stood there with a baffled expression, glancing between Adam and the stranger.
— "Dia, huh? Why the hell are you picking a fight out of nowhere?"
— "…Dia?"