EP.60 Plum Dragon Descent (3)
Unwelcome.
The sound of falling rain, the presumptuous moonlight.
Even the wind brushing through my hair.
Everything is unwelcome.
Amidst his thoughts, the woman asks.
[...Are you crying?]
[Don't spout nonsense. Anyone can see it's just rain.]
The man answered roughly, but the woman's hand touched his cheek.
Normally he would have swatted it away, but this time he forcefully endured it.
[...You're not...crying.]
[You expect too much.]
He had experienced too much to cry.
By now, nothing remained that could bring tears.
[...What a pity.]
The woman's voice held no emotion.
Even reaching the verge of death, she remained the same.
Perhaps from observing and executing countless deaths, even this had become numb to her.
The woman had one arm torn off and a large hole in her chest.
That she barely clung to life with wounds that should have killed her instantly was likely because she was a martial artist who had reached the supreme realm.
Even that wouldn't last much longer.
[Why did you do that?]
Unable to understand, the man asked the woman.
At the final moment, the pouring sword path was aimed at the man.
Though the woman could have survived, she took his place.
The man couldn't understand.
The man didn't want to understand.
The one lying on this ground should have been himself.
That had been decided from the moment the war began.
The woman interfered with that.
That made him angry.
Yes, he was angry. That's what the man told himself.
The woman slowly stroked the man's cheek.
The steadily accumulating sound of rain sickened the man.
[Don't cry.]
The man tried to push away the woman's words.
Ridiculously, he grabbed her wrist but couldn't bring himself to do it.
[...Don't cry.]
The woman kept repeating the same words to the man. With her eyes already closed, what could she possibly see to keep spouting nonsense?
Was it pity?
Meaningless camaraderie?
He couldn't know anything.
[...I said I'm not crying.]
[Don't...cry.]
The woman's bluish-white hair grew wet with rain, gradually losing its light.
The moonlight that had shone tiresomely hid itself only at this pitiful moment.
[...Is the moon...up?]
The woman asked.
At those words, the man looked up at the sky.
The clouded sky was only pouring rain.
The woman liked the moon.
She often sat alone on rocks looking at the moon.
Damningly, the man remembered each and every one of those moments.
[...Yes, it's up high.]
With rain falling between dark clouds, the moon couldn't possibly be visible.
Both the woman and the man knew that.
It was just a meaningless play.
[...Are you beside me?]
The woman asked.
The man let out a dry laugh at those words.
[You're asking that while creepily touching my cheek.]
At the man's words, the corner of the woman's lips seemed to move slightly.
Did she smile? The man thought he must have seen wrong.
[...Both are here, that's a relief.]
What relief?
The man couldn't ask again.
Because with those words, the woman's breath ceased.
Only then did the man slowly lower the woman's hand.
He couldn't give her a proper burial or take her body with him.
The woman wouldn't have wanted that either, and the situation didn't allow for it.
[Found him...]
At the voice from behind, the man slowly rose.
Dozens, perhaps hundreds of martial artists faced the man from behind.
They all wore blue-white clothing with the character for Alliance (盟) embroidered at the bottom.
Among the countless martial artists, the man at the very front with a sculpture-like appearance pointed his sword tip.
[Fortunately, it seems you haven't fled far.]
The resolve to uphold justice and righteousness shone from his face.
The man had to suppress a sickening feeling at that sight.
[...Meteor Sword.]
Meteor Sword Jang Seong-yeon, a man called the future of the next generation's righteous faction.
He quietly spat out the bastard's name.
At the man's call, the Meteor Sword's eyebrows twitched slightly.
The woman beside him shouted.
[How dare you! Don't let the Great Lord's name pass your filthy demonic mouth!]
He didn't say anything in response to the shout. The heavily falling rain felt particularly heavy.
[...I keep forgetting.]
Wearily, he swept his hand across his face.
Yes, he kept forgetting.
Why he stood here.
What his role was, he kept forgetting.
[...The Heavenly Demon will soon die. Surrender peacefully!]
A hollow laugh escaped at the Meteor Sword's words.
He tried to hold it in, but couldn't.
[The Cult Leader? To whom?]
[The Three Venerables are currently with the Heavenly Demon...]
[Oh, the Three Venerables? So you're saying you left it to those old fogeys and came swarming to catch minor foot soldiers like me?]
Leaking laughter kept forcing the corners of his mouth upward.
The Meteor Sword's face increasingly contorted.
At that sight, the man barely stopped his chuckling.
[Yes, you must...hurry and do it, if you don't do it right you'll throw a fit again.]
When the man took one step forward.
Flames released from his toes instantly spread throughout the entire forest.
Among the martial artists taking battle stances, the man only looked at the Meteor Sword.
Looking at the Meteor Sword who had returned to an expressionless face and met his gaze, the man spoke.
[Disgusting bastard.]
At the man's words, the Meteor Sword's lip corner could be seen twitching slightly, but it was soon hidden by flames and his expression couldn't be seen clearly.
The expanding flames soon swallowed the entire forest, and in less than the time of a meal, burned an area spanning nearly ten li.
In the subsequent report to the Murim Alliance, it was recorded that the demonic practitioner fled and the only surviving survivor was the Meteor Sword.
******************
"Spar."
At Nangong Bia's words, I swallowed a hollow breath.
The flashbacks that sometimes burst out regardless of my will only dredge up sickening memories.
Why? Why did such a memory suddenly surface? Of all times, right now.
Unable to meet Nangong Bia's resolute gaze, I slightly turned my head.
It was because I felt I'd become sensitive from recalling that time.
"...Can't you see I just finished a spar?"
I had just finished sparring with Yeongpung.
Nangong Bia must have seen that too?
What's the deal with coming right away to ask for a spar?
At my question, Nangong Bia's lips slightly pouted.
For her to make such a strange expression...
It was a rare sight.
In my past life, I couldn't have dared to imagine Nangong Bia making such an expression.
Whenever this happened, I gradually felt that she was different from the Demonic Sword Empress, yet a strange emotion stirred in a corner of my mind.
[You keep cursing inwardly at every little thing. It's distracting, so just stay quiet.]
'Are your words getting harsher?'
[Hmph.]
Did he want to spar, but wasn't satisfied since it was his own successor?
No way, could he be that narrow-minded...
[...Rotten brat.]
'...Guess I was right.'
Is it because he's still a person of Huashan?
Even though times have passed, to harbor such feelings.
[That's a separate matter. The current children are the responsibility of the current Sect Leader to care for.]
'Then what are you dissatisfied with?'
[...Seeing even the Plum Blossom brought out and being beaten black and blue, my stomach burns a little, in my time that didn't happen...!]
'...No, what does that even mean.'
[Kids these days, honestly, ah... That's not how you swing the Plum Blossom Sword Technique...]
Since he was spouting nonsense, I decided to just ignore him.
I looked at Nangong Bia and said.
"Are you still sulking about that?"
Was she throwing a tantrum because I refused her spar and did it with Yeongpung instead?
Whether I happened to hit the mark or struck right at the bullseye, Nangong Bia's eyes trembled slightly.
"...I'm not sulking."
Her voice was trembling slightly too.
"It seems like you are?"
"N...no."
"Are you really not?"
But why does she keep avoiding my gaze? Was she always someone whose emotions showed so easily on her face?
Whether it was because Nangong Bia was still young, or if she was originally that kind of person.
I couldn't properly know.
As Nangong Bia kept avoiding my gaze, I suddenly became curious about something.
"Nangong Young Lady."
"...Yeah?"
"Do you like the moon?"
Nangong Bia tilted her head at my question.
It was such an abrupt question, so that was understandable.
Perhaps after thinking for a moment, Nangong Bia, who had been rolling her eyes around, answered.
"Not really...?"
At those words, I let out a hollow laugh.
"Did she not like the moon."
I thought she said she did.
Or did she never actually say it out loud?
"...?"
Looking at the puzzled Nangong Bia, I spoke.
"Let's spar... next time."
"...!"
Nangong Bia's eyes widened.
Was saying we'd spar next time that surprising?
"...You'll spar with me?"
"If you stop speaking informally."
"Yo?"
"No... never mind. Do as you please."
Honestly, I'd about half given up now.
This felt like something that would never be fixed even if I died.
For now, I had used too much qi and my body would soon grow tired.
Though I had regulated it somewhat, it was a martial art difficult to sustain for long, and my body would quickly overload.
I'd probably suffer a bit lying down.
[I hope you get sleep paralysis.]
'Do you always have to say things unbefitting your age? A ghost getting sleep paralysis...'
[My age...!? You insolent brat...!]
Perhaps because it had been noisy since earlier, a headache kept coming.
As I was holding my throbbing head, Nangong Bia approached slightly.
"What's wrong?"
"Just my head a bit..."
Suddenly, Nangong Bia's hand touched my cheek.
Perhaps because of that, the memory that had just surfaced overlapped.
"You have a fever..."
[Don't cry.]
A sickening feeling surged up from inside, and without realizing, I swatted Nangong Bia's hand away.
"...?"
Nangong Bia alternated looking between her pushed-away hand and me.
I had acted too excessively without realizing.
Clearing my throat once, I apologized to Nangong Bia.
"I'm sorry. I was startled."
[You really can't accept anything even when it's given to you.]
Nangong Bia nodded slightly.
It seemed like a sign that it was okay.
"Then... next time."
Nangong Bia, having said that, turned her back and walked away.
Was it my imagination that her footsteps seemed light?
Watching that, Old Man Shin asks.
[You kept refusing, so what are you thinking?]
'When did I ever refuse?'
[You who felt reluctant even at the moment you said you'd do it with that woman, and even now, speaks...]
'I just said it because it seemed like you wanted to do it so much.'
[...Yes, if you do end up doing it, regulate yourself a bit this time.]
'About what?'
[Whether it's that beast-like martial art or whatever, if you're going to use qi, be careful.]
I couldn't quite understand what Old Man Shin was saying. It didn't sound like he was joking.
[You extracted qi recklessly, so that thing ran wild and I had a hard time suppressing it.]
'...Excuse me?'
[What on earth did you consume to harbor such a bizarre thing...? Must this old man suffer in his old age?]
'You're not even in this world anymore, so what does that mean.'
At my response, Old Man Shin let out some kind of shriek.
This wasn't something that could be solved by covering my ears, so it was even more annoying.
Though I had spoken playfully, it was actually a troubling matter.
It runs wild when I use a lot of qi...
Old Man Shin's words were uncomfortable from my perspective.
Just when I could move a bit better, a problem erupts from inside?
'What on earth is it...?'
Did it ride over on the ghostly creature's energy?
Or was there something inside my body from the start? I couldn't know.
I was also considering the possibility that Old Man Shin was lying, but ultimately that wasn't certain either.
'If I go to Huashan quickly, would I be able to find out something?'
Actually, I didn't think going to Huashan would help me understand anything, but for now I had no other options.
'Is this also something I need to look into later?'
There was no way to do anything in the mountains.
I left Yeongpung's matter for the Huashan Sect to handle and returned to the campsite.
Suddenly upon arriving, I felt something was off and pondered what was different, then realized Wi Seol-a hadn't come running out.
"...What? Where did she really go?"
It wasn't a given that she'd come to greet me, but not seeing her when she always used to trot out made me feel a bit uneasy.
Wondering where she went, I grabbed a passing servant and asked.
"Seol-a was with Grandpa Wi earlier."
At the servant's words, I could finally feel relieved.
If she was with the Sword Lord, there was nothing to worry about.
...Starting tomorrow, I'm traveling with Nangong Bia?
[...Must be nice. So well-endowed...]
That was Old Man Shin's remark that popped out while I was pondering what to do.
'...Old Man Shin, you're not really a Daoist, are you?'
[You brat... To say such bullshit to the ancestor of the Daoist sect.]
No, no matter how I look at it, this person shouldn't have been the Huashan Sect Leader...
Let alone the Huashan Sword Sage.
It was a terrible thing to the Huashan Sect disciples living in this life.
[...Do you know I'm listening?]
'Yes, I know and I'm saying it. Don't worry.'
[Hohoho, truly a rotten brat.]
After finishing the spar, the night had grown much deeper than before.
If I stayed up any later, tomorrow would be difficult, so I needed to lie down soon.
I was a bit concerned about Yeongpung since I seemed to have gone slightly overboard.
[Overboard...? Burning the Plum Blossom right before your eyes and just overboard...?]
...I thought he'd overcome it well on his own.
If he'd crumble at this level, overcoming the wall would have been impossible from the start.
Since I had moved my body, I seemed to have sweated a bit and wanted to wash before sleeping, but it was equally bothersome, so I decided to just sleep.
[...To try to sleep like this, truly a filthy brat.]
As always, I ignored Old Man Shin's words.
******************
Wi Seol-a was having a conversation with the Sword Lord for the first time in a while.
Though calling it a conversation was generous, as it was mostly just the Sword Lord telling stories from his old martial records, adding flesh to them like legends.
Wi Seol-a just listened with enjoyment.
When her eyes were half-closed and she seemed about to fall asleep, Wi Seol-a asked the Sword Lord.
"Grandpa."
"Hm?"
"What's a fiancé?"
"...Hm?"
At Wi Seol-a's question, the Sword Lord made a subtle expression.
It was self-reproach and bewilderment that, no matter how freely he had raised her, he hadn't even taught her this level of common sense.
He didn't know the intention of his granddaughter asking such an abrupt question, but since she sometimes asked strange things like "Is the eagle delicious or is the hawk delicious?" due to her curious nature, he figured it was just one of those things.
Thinking it might be that kind of story again, the Sword Lord answered Wi Seol-a.
"...A fiancé is..."
"Yeah..."
As Wi Seol-a listened to the Sword Lord's explanation, her expression gradually darkened.
Not noticing this, the Sword Lord continued his gentle explanation.
And so the next day.
Wi Seol-a didn't speak to Nangong Bia.