Chapter #1 Becoming Someone's Master
-intro-
“Please tell me your name….”
It was the first thing she said to me as she awoke from a long, long slumber, and from that moment, the path of my life—which I had thought was already set in stone—was completely overturned.
Where should I begin? It is a tale of a short period of time, less than three years…. Some parts still make me laugh when I think of them now, and others bring tears to my eyes so effortlessly the moment I recall them…. I truly do not know where to begin. Over three years, I grew about a handspan taller, became somewhat more skilled with the sword, learned to enjoy alcohol a little…. I think I must have traveled about half of this world. And I met her, and not long ago, I lost her. No, rather, saying she disappeared might be more accurate. Where should I begin with her…. My indecisive nature really does not seem to have changed at all, neither three years ago nor now. It is just a somewhat long story, but I suppose I should start from the beginning—from the moment I first laid eyes on her. Back then…it was certainly terribly cold, and snow was falling. Yes, I should start from then.
The snow that had begun falling before dawn had now piled up considerably, and each person raised their soiled collars, brushing away the snow settling on their heads and shoulders as they began gathering in the center of Kione, a small coastal village. The reason people gathered in the village square so early in the morning was to perform an annual ritual.
‘I really do not know which stupid ancestor decided that we should wear formal attire and cut open the belly of a Peseter for a ritual….’
Jullitan hated the small, worn formal suit that constricted his shoulders. He only wore it once a year, today, and if not for this ritual, he would never put it on. With a tired expression, he approached the Peseter—the largest sea fish, seemingly ten times his own size, laid out before him—and loosened his hands. This northern fishing village, Kione, was under the dominion of the Garbat Empire, but how many people within Garbat even knew that a tiny, grain-of-rice village like this existed? Yet even here, there were customs one could call village traditions. They would cut open the belly of the Peseter, a giant and incredibly sluggish-looking fish caught first from the sea that year, and offer its flesh to the sea god, Hwimen. It was an exceedingly humble ritual, incomparable to city festivals, but for Jullitan, the village’s only chef tasked with preparing the Peseter, it was a day he suffered through once a year. Just think. Expecting someone who had not even come of age to undertake the horrifically long and tedious process of removing the innards, cutting away the fat, and filleting the flesh of a fish several times his own size all alone—who would make him do such a thing? And on a day so cold the ground felt frozen solid.
“Hey! Jullitan! Let’s finish this quickly! I’ve got work to get to!”
The villagers cried out, stomping their cold feet.
‘…Then do it yourself, if you are in such a hurry.’
Jullitan twirled the hand holding the thick knife round and round, muttering under his breath. He would clean this Peseter while praying that this troublesome custom disappeared. This fish had such delicate flesh that one could not believe it lived in the rough seas, and thanks to that, if he put too much force into the knife, it would plunge in as easily as sticking his hand into a pile of snow, piercing some organ or other. Jullitan inserted the knife with a familiar motion, and soon the frozen flesh began to split with a soft pop like a thread snapping. Up until he began putting strength into his shoulders to cut through the belly as always, things were fine. But before long, something began catching on his knife, and it would go no further. Jullitan hesitated and pulled out the knife. If he had accidentally hit the innards, the village elders would use it as an excuse to make him the butt of drinking stories for years to come, so he could not help but panic.
‘What is going on? Did I make a mistake?’
“What are you doing! Jullitan! Don’t tell me you—!”
The villagers’ eyes began to fill with suspicion.
“Ah, no! There is something inside the belly….”
“Something?”
Seuteon, who was from this village but had gone to study in a distant city and returned—thus acknowledged by all as the most knowledgeable in the village—tilted his head and spoke. Truthfully, Jullitan did not particularly like Seuteon, who was around his brother’s age. Because whatever he said, Seuteon would refute him with incomprehensible words. He knew the man was smart, but…he would grumble that he wished Seuteon would not cut people off so much.
“Yes. Something inside the belly…I think there is something strange in there.”
Jullitan pointed at the Peseter with a frustrated expression.
“Peseter is a migratory fish. It frequently swallows things that cannot be digested in the open sea, so do not fluster and just pull it out carefully. Jullitan.”
As expected. Seuteon cut Jullitan off and spouted his ceaselessly knowledgeable advice. ‘Migratory’? He did not need to know such a difficult word to be well aware from long experience that the Peseter was a stupid glutton that swallowed anything. And with an expression that said, ‘Who is flustered?’ Jullitan thrust his hand into the torn belly. Lumps of squelching fat began to cling coldly and stickily to his hand.
“It is for the ritual! Be careful!”
“Yes, yes. I know.”
Jullitan’s hand began carefully searching for the ‘foreign object’ in its belly, and soon his hand grasped something hard and cold of a metallic nature.
‘Ugh!’
Jullitan frowned at the sudden stinging sensation and instinctively pulled his hand from the belly. Jullitan’s hand, which he stared at in bewilderment, was bleeding from a cut by something sharp.
“Damn it!”
In the end, a crude word burst out during the ‘sacred’ ritual.
“What happened!”
“A knife! There is a knife inside its belly!”
Fortunately the wound was not deep, but Jullitan was simply dumbfounded. A knife inside a fish’s belly… Did it swallow a knife and survive? Peseter truly was a stupid fish.
“A knife…that is certainly a rare case. Check it.”
Seuteon commanded in a voice as detached as if watching a fire from across the river. Even though someone else’s hand was bleeding… Whatever he might say, Jullitan was also curious about its identity, so he roughly wiped his bleeding hand and began carefully lifting the torn belly. It was like sticking his head into a dark, large tent full of odds and ends. Pushing aside the monstrous amount of fat that made up most of the Peseter’s body, he soon discovered the knife. But that knife—Jullitan’s eyes widened—was a long, sharp, and uniquely shaped sword befitting of knights. Had this gluttonous fish swallowed it for self-defense?
“W-wait a moment….”
But that was not the only strange thing. He could not pull the knife out. Something was holding it. He even thought it might be tangled in muscle, but that could not be. ‘Something’ was holding that knife.
“So it was a knife? Has the god sent us a blade?”
Ignoring Seuteon’s grandstanding, Jullitan continued carefully putting his hand inside the belly, trying to determine the identity of the ‘foreign object.’ And after a moment, something soft began to be grasped by Jullitan’s hand as it dug into the belly.
‘What is this?’
Jullitan thought as he felt it. Born in this village of Kione and becoming a chef, Jullitan had practically lived embracing the Peseter, so he knew the anatomy of that giant fish down to the smallest detail, but…how should he put it, this ‘something’ he was holding now was a sensation he had never felt before.
‘How should I put it…it feels like human flesh?’
Perplexed by that unprecedented sensation, Jullitan eventually picked up the knife and began cutting into the belly. Whether it is an offering or whatever, there is no way the sea god would appreciate a fish containing something this strange.
“Jullitan. What are you doing.”
Forgetting even to answer, Jullitan began carefully cutting deep into the belly. His left hand remained holding that soft something. And after a while, a soft groan was heard from Jullitan, whose ears suddenly turned red. A shock so great that his face, pale from the cold just moments ago, turned literally crimson.
“B…breast?”
“What?”
“Th-that is…a woman….”
“What on earth are you talking about!”
Inside the belly of the Peseter that Jullitan succeeded in lifting open, there was a naked woman with long black hair, quietly asleep with both hands gripping that cold-looking silver sword. And Jullitan’s left hand was still grasping her rather small breast. How should he put it, the thought of taking his hand away did not even occur to him. Rather, that woman’s appearance brought to his mind a story he had heard in childhood, of an unfortunate princess who had slept inside a Peseter’s belly for hundreds of years to evade a demon’s marriage proposal, rising in his mind like a dream.
She was beautiful.
-intro-
“What do you all think of this place, of this world?”
“I believe it is a place where ‘ordinary souls’ who can neither go to heaven nor hell wander forlornly for a brief time.”
The answer came from her lips surprisingly quickly.
It was a clear but sad answer, so I did not reply.
I had nothing to say.
A day passed. Needless to say, the ritual was halted by the sudden appearance of the woman. And the culprit of that incident was currently sleeping in Jullitan’s house. Why Jullitan’s house of all places? It was Seuteon’s order.
“Hmm. Hmm… Ahh, I am going crazy.”
Jullitan sat on a creaking wooden chair, fidgeting restlessly and glancing sideways at her as she occupied his bed. Humans have an imagination. Though she was modestly clothed now, every time Jullitan saw her sleeping form, his ears would burn red.
“She truly is an ideal female form, is she not? I have never seen a woman like that even in the cities.”
“S-Seuteon!”
Startled. Seuteon, who had entered unnoticed, grinned as he spoke, nearly causing Jullitan to topple from the chair he was leaning back in.
“But the thing is….”
Seuteon approached the nameless woman and scanned her ivory-carving-like face as he continued. Well, even without listening, it was obviously going to be bragging about his own knowledge.
“This woman, she is not human.”
“What?!”
A bombshell out of nowhere. Compared to Seuteon’s calm face, it was an extremely shocking statement. If not human, then what? Was she some unidentified fish wearing human skin?
“Why do you think that?”
“Is it not obvious? If she were human, there is no way she could survive inside a Peseter’s belly like this. So she is not human.”
“Then what? A mermaid?”
“How should I know?”
Yes, she was definitely breathing softly. In other words, she was certainly not dead…and yet, were there other creatures besides humans with that form who breathed like that? Jullitan thought that it would be easier to understand this situation if he simply assumed she was an incredibly lucky human. And the sword she had been holding. What on earth was the relationship between her and that sword, now placed on the table, completely untarnished and gleaming? A beautiful woman sleeping naked inside a Peseter’s belly, clutching a longsword… What the hell. None of this made any sense.
“Don’t tell me that woman!”
Seuteon made a meaningful expression with a low groan.
“Huh? What?”
“Ah, no way… It is nothing.”
“….”
Dragon Lady
Author / Kim Cheolgon
Publisher / Bak Seongin
Managing Editor / Editorial Department
Published by / Next Level Studio
Address / 4F, 113, Seongsuil-ro, Seongdong-gu, Seoul
Main Phone / 070-8801-6987
ISBN 979-11-92729-25-1
This book has been published as an ebook by Next Level Studio in accordance with a contract with the copyright holder.
Unauthorized reproduction of this book’s contents without the publisher’s permission is prohibited under copyright law.