Nathan leaned against the icy wall, his breath still spilling faint white mist.
"If that war’s as crazy as you say, when exactly does the Dimensional War start?"
Livia didn’t answer right away. She lowered her gaze, plucking a frost flower from the wall, her fingers brushing over its petals like she was appraising merchandise.
"I don’t know," she said softly. "It happens whenever the Messenger arrives in your world."
Nathan frowned. "Messenger? You mean, like, some kind of courier for a death party?"
Livia turned to him, expression flat. "Something like that. But he’s... not a fighter. He can’t be harmed, and he can’t harm anyone. He just comes, announces the time the war will begin, and leaves."
Nathan raised a brow. "So he’s... a walking clock?"
"A clock that decides when your world ends," Livia replied curtly. "He’ll appear somewhere everyone can see, announce the day and hour the war starts, and from then on, nothing can stop the countdown."
Nathan let out a dry chuckle. "Sounds... fair and screwed up at the same time."
"That’s how it is." Livia shrugged. "In Rabielm, once the Messenger leaves, all Rabbit Fighters gather with the Seven Commanders and retrain every fighter—even regular civilians."
Nathan spun his twin axes in his hands, as if seeking comfort in the familiar motion. "And on Earth... you think the Tower’s part of the selection?"
"I’m not sure," Livia admitted, her voice dropping. "The Tower, Hunters, systematic quests... it’s all like a war simulation, but too controlled. No mass destruction, no massive purges. As if..."
She fixed her gaze sharply on Nathan.
"...as if you’re being kept. Trained. Not prepared."
Nathan’s frown deepened. "Kept for what?"
"That’s what I want to know," Livia said coldly. "In my dimension, we already had power without systematic quests, weird leveling, or entering some stupid Tower."
Nathan exhaled, glancing toward the cave’s mouth, where the white storm still raged outside. "Then... I need to be ready even before that damn messenger shows up."
"Not just ready," Livia narrowed her eyes. "You have to be one of the chosen—and survive to the end. Because if you don’t... everyone you know will be gone. And in the recorded history of other dimensions, Earth will never have existed."
Nathan only gave a thin smile, but his eyes burned with resolve. "Good... A corporate slave thrown into a dimensional war? Sounds like a fun manhwa."
Nathan crossed his arms, his eyes locked on Livia. "The more you talk, the more curious I get about the Dimensional War."
Livia snapped her head toward him, one brow arched. "Seriously? You’re basically treated like a kid by the Guardian in your dimension, and you still don’t get it?"
Nathan shrugged, half-defensive. "What can I say? All I’ve got are fragments."
Livia exhaled, then began explaining in a flat but weighty tone.
"The war starts in a place... called the Border. All armies from every dimension are sent there. That’s where you fight—pushing the enemy back as hard as you can."
She walked slowly inside the cave, her fingers brushing against the glittering ice walls.
"If you retreat too far, you’ll get pushed back into your own world. And if you keep retreating until you get back to the place where you come back from the Border... you lose."
"...you disappear. Not dead—gone. Erased from existence."
Nathan narrowed his eyes. "How do you even know all the fine details?"
Without warning—smack!—Livia rapped him on the head hard enough to sting.
"The Messenger told me. He explains everything when he arrives. I’m just repeating it."
Nathan rubbed his head, half annoyed, half intrigued. "So... the Messenger doesn’t just announce the time, he gives a briefing too?"
"Yeah," Livia replied curtly. "He’s the only one allowed to speak about the war’s rules. Once he leaves, there are no more explanations. Only action."
Nathan fell silent for a moment, his mind forming a faint image of the battlefield at the Border—step after step retreating... until the edge... and then gone. Something heavy settled in his chest, yet his eyes glinted.
"In that case... I’ll make sure my feet never touch that edge."
Livia just stared at him, then turned and walked deeper into the cave. "If you want to live, don’t just talk. Be ready on the first day... and the last."
Nathan frowned, scratching his chin. "If we retreat back into our own world... and then keep retreating until we reach the point where we first fell back... wouldn’t that mean circling the world?"
Livia glanced at him briefly but firmly. "Yeah. In theory, yeah—you could even loop around the world to attack from the other side. But that almost never happens—because the enemy usually won’t give you the chance."
Nathan nodded slowly, then raised a brow. "What about civilians? The people who aren’t fighting?"
Livia paused, as if weighing her words. "If the enemy’s brutal... they’re slaughtered. Wiped out. No mercy."
She lowered her head slightly, her voice dropping.
"If the creatures are merciful—whatever ’merciful’ means for beings from other dimensions—they might let civilians live... for a while. Until your world is completely defeated."
Nathan narrowed his eyes. "And after defeat?"
Livia exhaled, her gaze cold. "Left to vanish on their own. No energy supply, no dimension to shield them—everything collapses. There might be no blood on the ground... but everything will fade, one by one."
Nathan fell silent, staring deep into the cave as if trying to picture a world slowly dissolving. His hands clenched slightly. "Sounds like a death crueler than being slaughtered outright."
"Exactly." Livia locked eyes with him. "At the Border... there’s no room for feeling weak."
Nathan fell silent. His gaze was blank, but inside his head, a storm of thoughts raged.
Silence settled between them, thick enough to press against the frost-lined walls. The cave’s glow softened the edges of Livia’s sharp expression, but her words still lingered in Nathan’s mind— Border, retreat, erasure. He let the weight of it turn over in his thoughts, each term painting an image grimmer than the last. The frost flowers stood motionless, their light steady, indifferent to wars or worlds. Nathan’s fingers flexed around his weapons before lowering them, the metal biting with cold. Beneath all the talk of rules and survival, another thread of thought pulled at him— a truth deeper than the Border itself.
For a moment, he felt... small. Like a powerless pawn dropped onto the game board of the The One.
But another image surfaced—of the The One who Made the Earth. The figure who had been willing to sacrifice themself just to protect the planet.
Nathan let out a long breath.
"...If he could do that, then I have no excuse to give up."
The violet glow from the system panels reflected against Lilith’s slender silhouette.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen, which displayed Nathan and Livia inside the frost-flower cave.
Her lips curled faintly. "Becoming more and more special..." she murmured.
"He’s the only one... the only human who knows all this. While the rest are still running around the Tower, basking in their fame as Hunters... when in truth, they’re just wandering inside a cheap training ground. All of it is nothing but preparation—for the real Dimensional War."
Lilith chuckled softly, her low voice filling the quiet room.
But then her laughter faded, replaced by a gaze that was deeper, more... personal.
"This time... maybe they can win. Because..."
She bit her lip, staring at Nathan on the screen as if she could pierce the distance between them.
The panels around her trembled faintly, as if even the system itself could feel the tension in the air.
The cave fell silent again, save for the soft drip of melting ice.
"Huh?" Livia suddenly turned, brows furrowed. "Do what? Who?"
Nathan realized he had spoken out loud without meaning to. He lifted his head, meeting her eyes.
"The One Who Made the Earth," he said quietly but firmly. "The being who created my world... and kept repeating the loop. War after war. All because they sacrificed themself so Earth could keep surviving."
Livia blinked, clear confusion on her face. "The One... what? There’s no such term. The only ones I know are Guardians. They’re sent to watch over and keep a world balanced, not create it."
Nathan stared back at her. "Yeah, that’s the thing... this isn’t a Guardian. He’s above them. I don’t know how, but he resets time every time we lose. Earth goes back to before the war began, everyone comes back to life. But the price he pays..." Nathan lowered his gaze, fists tightening. "...is himself."
Livia kept looking at him for a long moment, her pupils narrowing slightly. "If what you’re saying is true... does that mean there’s a The One Who Made the Rabielm?"
Nathan gave a faint smile. "Of course there is."
Nathan frowned. "Hold up—wait, what? You don’t know?"