In the Crevice of Snow Summer (2)
What was a foul smell?
It was a question Namgung Bia had pondered since childhood.
Why was she able to smell things others could not?
Namgung Bia knew that, because of it, her life had fallen into hell.
A life in which she could not eat comfortably, could not converse, and could not even sleep without suffering.
How could she escape?
Within the dense fog that obscured everything before her, Namgung Bia could only continue to wander.
The one fortunate thing was that, even amid those foul smells, there were moments she could overcome them.
When she swung her sword.
Only then did the world grant Namgung Bia a sense of liberation.
That was why Namgung Bia began an obsession with the sword—or perhaps something close to one.
For as long as she was dancing with her sword, she could fall under the illusion that she felt nothing at all.
So she swung her sword every day.
The foul smell that came rushing back the instant her sword dance ended remained as strong as ever, and the foulness emanating from those who watched her sword dance only grew more intense.
But if there were no foul smells while Namgung Bia danced with her sword…
She held on to the hope that, once she reached the end of the sword she sought, perhaps this too would disappear.
Whenever she saw a swordsman stronger than herself, she challenged him to a duel, and spent all her remaining time honing her martial prowess.
As she grew older, the foul smell wafting from her family grew stronger as well.
Since she disliked speaking with people, she became increasingly taciturn.
The yearnings and desires, envy and jealousy they harbored could be felt all too clearly alongside the foul smells.
Could that be the cause of the foulness they emitted?
Namgung Bia could not be certain of that, either.
There seemed to be something else.
With each passing day, she gradually lost the expressions on her face.
She could not remember the last time she had smiled.
Perhaps the day she lost it completely was the day her mother died.
Even when she blocked her nose, she continued to sense those smells, and little by little, they exhausted her.
She would rather have shut herself away in the mountains and lived alone, but her clan would not leave her be.
The foulness of everyone around her grew more intense, yet amid it all, it was her younger brother who weighed most heavily on her.
The way he was growing increasingly excessive, the many emotions reflected in his eyes.
She felt more and more burdened by the things he said—things Namgung Bia could not understand.
Would there truly be peace at the end of the sword she sought?
Would there be peace at the end of a life in which she endured to the very end?
Or was she simply foolishly hanging on?
During those days when she agonized over such questions at the edge of a cliff, day after day—
She met him.
It was the first time.
The first time in her life she felt the absence of foulness.
As though he were sweeping away the dense fog, only tranquility existed around him.
His sharp-looking eyes, his gruff manner of speaking, the obvious distance he kept, as if begging her not to come near him.
Within that distance, Namgung Bia found comfort instead.
She could not sense any foulness.
He had none of the desires she sensed from others, and yet for some reason, he was surrounded by impatience and guilt.
At times, when he looked at her, he seemed to be thinking of someone else. She wanted to ask him someday.
Who exactly are you looking for?
What is it that you want to say, that you look at me with such eyes?
But she never managed to ask, and so Namgung Bia still did not know.
The words Dang Sohyeol had asked her some time ago kept coming back to her these days.
Whether she liked him.
At the time, Namgung Bia had thought she did not.
What she felt for him then was certainly not affection.
‘What about now?’
Was it different now?
She asked herself, but no answer came.
It was a more difficult feeling than anything related to foulness.
While swinging her sword in the rear mountains, she met his eyes.
The first thing she noticed was the back of his hand, which looked injured.
She was startled and moved to approach him.
At the same time, she sensed a fishy scent.
It was faint, but unmistakably foul.
For an instant, Namgung Bia felt as though the world were collapsing.
She repeatedly told herself it could not be so, then seized him and smelled him.
All the while praying that it was not what she feared.
For Namgung Bia, he was the sanctuary she had barely managed to find.
She could eat comfortably, and she no longer had nightmares when she slept.
She was even able to walk among crowds of people.
She had only just begun to learn these things, one by one.
…She could not lose even this.
Fortunately, had it all merely been a mistake?
The fishy scent around him soon faded away.
When tranquility returned, as if nothing had happened, the strength left her legs without her realizing it, and she sank to the ground.
He came over and carefully wiped away the cold sweat streaming down her face.
She seized his arm and brought it to the tip of her nose.
It was something she had done without thinking, driven by the urgent fear that she might lose it again.
‘So that’s how it is.’
Namgung Bia now understood what despair felt like.
The tranquility that made her wonder if it had been better never to know had taught her the fear of losing something.
So that was how it was.
I can no longer let him go.
These days, the seemingly meaningless title of fiancée kept circling through her mind. Perhaps to her, it was the greatest blessing of all.
She imagined a life without him.
A life in which she would have to live once more amid the foul smells.
Could she truly go on living in that world again?
Namgung Bia tightened her grip on his hand a little more, unwilling to imagine such a thing.
*****************
Namgung Bia’s condition seemed strange, so I brought her down to the lodging.
Why was she sweating so profusely?
They said even dogs did not catch summer colds. Could she have come down with some kind of fever?
‘A martial artist with a fever…’
For someone who possessed internal energy, it was quite difficult to fall ill like that.
Especially for a martial artist of Namgung Bia’s level.
Wondering if something more serious than a fever was wrong, I told her to visit a physician, but she shook her head and went to wash by herself.
“Young Master! Young Master!”
By evening, Wi Seora had stuck stubbornly to my side.
Earlier, when she saw the injured back of my hand, she had nearly burst into tears, and calming her down had been exhausting.
Wi Seora seemed to have become obsessed with cooking lately, because she kept bringing over things she had made.
The food was provided by Mount Hua, after all.
Of course, since Mount Hua was a Daoist sect, they did not serve particularly lavish meals, but it did not matter. Food was food so long as it filled my stomach.
‘…I don’t think I’ve had dumplings lately.’
It felt as though I had not eaten any for several days.
I would have to get some the next time I went down to the county.
‘Though I won’t be going for the time being.’
Given Mount Hua’s location, going down and coming back up was no easy task.
I picked up one of the nameless dishes Wi Seora had brought.
The expectant look in her eyes was quite burdensome.
Seeing it, I blurted out,
“It’s salty.”
“…R-really?”
Her eyes grew so wide at those few words that it was amusing.
Knowing that she had probably worked hard on it, I patted her head and revealed that I had been joking.
“I’m kidding. It’s fine.”
“Ugh… You keep teasing me. That’s so mean…!”
“Your reactions are too funny.”
By now, it felt perfectly natural to pat her hair.
Perhaps because I hesitated less.
Wi Seora rested her head beneath my hand and looked up at me with round eyes, like a puppy.
Feeling something strange, I grabbed her cheeks with both hands and stretched them out.
“Uebebbe!”
“…Good heavens, they really stretch?”
What kind of texture was this? I remembered Gu Huibi marveling as she played with Wi Seora’s cheeks back in the clan, and now I understood.
So this was what it felt like.
“Ueb…”
“Ah, sorry.”
Perhaps I had pulled too hard. Wi Seora rubbed her cheeks and shot me a slight glare.
Seeing that, I asked,
“By the way, where’s Elder Wi?”
I did not think Wi Seora had returned to Mount Hua alone.
I had assumed the Sword Sovereign had come along with her, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Touching her slightly reddened cheek, Wi Seora answered,
“Grandfather said he had something to take care of and went somewhere!”
“…Something to take care of.”
What business could the Sword Sovereign have in Shaanxi, leaving even Wi Seora behind?
It was not as though I was worried about him now, but I was curious.
The reason he had followed us all the way to Shaanxi, the fact that the Divine Physician happened to be here of all places—
And the fact that the Divine Physician’s grandson was Jegal Hyeok.
“…Why are there so many things?”
The disappearance of a Mount Hua disciple. The Sword Empress’s health.
Any one of them seemed serious enough, yet it felt as though several problems had become tangled together.
As if something lay woven through all of them.
“Young Master.”
“Hmm?”
“Your face has gotten ugly again….”
“…What did you just say?”
It had been a while since I had heard an attack on my looks.
Perhaps because I had even been told I looked like a praying mantis, it was not particularly shocking.
“You mustn’t say that carelessly wherever you go.”
“Why…?”
“…Truly ugly people will be hurt.”
“But when you make that face, you look ugly…”
“…Right.”
Hearing Wi Seora say it drove a dagger straight into my heart. This was why pretty people were so cruel.
She was probably only saying that because I had frowned at the complicated situation, but I thought I would have to make time to correct her speech later.
[It seems to me she said it because you really do look ugly….]
‘Please be quiet.’
My heart already hurt, and you’re rubbing salt in the wound…
I picked up a few more greens and roughly finished my dinner.
Namgung Bia seemed unwell and had not come out to eat, so I told Wi Seora to go check on her and make sure she ate something.
I looked around, wondering if I should take a short walk.
-Hah!
-Pay attention to your legs!
-Your arm is just hanging there!
The shouts of the Third-Class Disciples rang out from outside. They seemed to be engrossed in the final stages of their training.
It was probably because of the upcoming Jehwa Tournament.
How should I put it? It was something like a martial competition among Mount Hua’s disciples.
We would probably return to the clan once it was over.
Yeong Pung had told me it would finish in a day or two, so there was not much time left.
I hoped that nothing would happen in the meantime.
‘If there was a problem, it would be the demonic qi I saw earlier.’
The Black Night Palace’s lackeys I had seen during the day.
For some reason, the stuff inside them seemed too murky to be called demonic qi.
More precisely, it seemed low-quality or incomplete.
It was on an entirely different level from the demonic qi dispersed by the Demonic Cult’s fiends—so cheap-looking that it seemed counterfeit.
That was why I did not think it had anything to do with the Heavenly Demon.
[Are you thinking about those men?]
“…Yes. There’s something bothering me.”
[Were they famous fellows?]
“Not famous, exactly, but they aren’t people hiding in the shadows, either.”
The Black Night Palace Lord himself was a master who represented the Unorthodox Faction.
Even when the Black Dragon Sword, once a famous master of the Unorthodox Faction, had been killed by the Sword Sovereign, he had remained proudly in his place.
‘Was I too indifferent?’
Perhaps because I had merely regarded them as a place that would be pushed aside and disappear beneath the Martial Alliance in a few years.
Realizing that the Black Night Palace possessed something related to the demonic qi I had thought the Heavenly Demon had drawn out left me with a complicated feeling.
“I won’t just let it go. We let one of them get away.”
[They know full well that this is Mount Hua’s territory and that the current sect leader has heard of it, so they will not move rashly.]
To be honest, that was partly why I had acted so recklessly, but it did not seem likely that they would simply slink away and cut off their tails.
‘For now, Plum Blossom Immortal should handle what remains here.’
There were too many things I needed to think about besides this.
Even if I investigated the Black Night Palace right away, there was little I could do in Shaanxi.
Putting the headache-inducing thoughts aside, I started walking toward the lodging, when someone came running from afar.
“Brother Gu!”
It was Yeong Pung, drenched in sweat.
Good grief, what had happened to him…?
“Daoist Yeong Pung…?”
“Are you on your way to evening training?”
“Pardon? No?”
“The night air is especially pleasant today. Training in it will give you a wonderful energy!”
“…Ah, yes.”
There was no way he had been doing this from morning until now, was there?
[He is the one among the later generation whom I like best. With that level of talent and that level of effort, he will surely become Mount Hua’s Number One Sword in the near future.]
Just as Elder Shin said, sounding thoroughly proud, if Yeong Pung’s future followed the natural course of events, that was what would happen.
Unless some crazy bastard wiped out all of Mount Hua by himself.
“…Fuck.”
“Yes? Brother Gu, what did you say?”
“No, nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Ah… I understand. If you have the inclination, would you like to train with me this evening?”
Even after seeing the ordeal I had gone through that morning, Yeong Pung recommended it again with the same bright expression.
I had spent the entire day dealing with one thing after another, and I wanted nothing more than to go lie down immediately.
But just as during the day, seeing Yeong Pung like this made me feel as though I was being spurred on.
“Let’s go.”
Right. I was going to sleep as soon as I returned anyway. It would be fine to train for a little while first.
…I regretted saying that only a few minutes later.
******************
Damn this crazy Mount Hua.
“…Uuugh.”
The evening training I had begun after being inspired by Yeong Pung did not even last halfway before I fled.
Putting ordinary training aside, what kind of lunatic had come up with carrying a boulder on one’s back and climbing a cliff, then added it to the routine?
Besides that, we repeated all kinds of bizarre exercises without taking a break.
While my muscles screamed and I slowly died, Yeong Pung seemed to be enjoying even that.
How had someone like him ended up reaching a wall in the future?
Could there have been some reason?
[Have you considered that he became like this because you spurred him on?]
“Look, even if he’s a simple-minded person, one sparring match wouldn’t change someone that much, would it?”
[That remains to be seen.]
Had the sparring match with me really been that shocking?
If so, it was fortunate that I had accomplished what I intended, but if he had truly changed that much in an instant, that was frightening in its own way.
When I finally could not endure it any longer and said I was leaving first, Yeong Pung made a disappointed face and said he would train a while longer before coming down.
He barely listened to me, and I hurried down with quick steps.
After getting caught up in one thing after another since midday and then rolling around in evening training with an already exhausted body, I was tired to the limit.
I went down to the lodging, wiped myself with cold water to cool my overheated body, and changed into fresh clothes.
I wanted to fall asleep as quickly as possible.
I had not slept properly the night before, so I felt certain I would sleep deeply tonight.
Thinking that, I opened the door.
Rattle—
“Young Mas—!”
Rattle—slam.
“…?”
Without thinking, I opened the door, then immediately shut it again.
I was certain Namgung Bia and Wi Seora had been inside.
I must have seen it wrong… right?