Chapter 220: Omen (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 220: Omen (7)
The Murim Alliance of Hanam.
And the Shaolin Sect.
A tumultuous winter had passed, giving way to spring—a season of blooming flowers, of thawing lakes and softening earth.
Change, as inevitable as the turning seasons, had also come to the Shaolin Sect.
Amidst a vast forest of ancient trees, the rich scent of plum blossoms drifted lightly on the air.
Tap… tap…
A watermill turned steadily, its rhythm a quiet percussion against the stillness.
Behind the great lake that dominated the Shaolin Sect’s grounds stood a small hut. There, the Chief Abbot, known as the Heavenly Eye, sat with his eyes closed, facing the waters.
A spring breeze whispered past.
Then, the Heavenly Eye exhaled softly and spoke.
“I am glad to see you well.”
His voice was dry and aged, carried by the wind to the woman standing behind him.
Her hair, once brittle and white, now flowed dark and vibrant. The scent of plum blossoms emanated from her dantian, perfuming the air around her.
She was the Sword Queen of Mount Hua, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.
“Have you been well all this time?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, not as well as I might have hoped. Hehe…”
The old man’s rasping tone betrayed the little time he had left.
With each light step the woman took, the fragrance of plum blossoms grew stronger.
Noticing this, the Heavenly Eye cracked open his eyes.
“I heard you suffered a great misfortune. It seems you endured it admirably.”
“I had help from many.”
“Yes, yes. That too is a blessing.”
Wrinkles gathered at the corners of his eyes as he smiled at the Sword Queen.
“And the Celestial Plum Blossom—is he well?”
“As robust as ever.”
“Just as he has always been.”
On the table before the Heavenly Eye sat a second teacup, already prepared—as though he had anticipated her visit.
The Sword Queen glanced around the quiet space.
“If I am not mistaken, the Mighty Staff does not seem to be present… Is he well?”
The Mighty Staff—one of the Hundred Masters of the World, a native of Hanam, and the personal guard of the current Heavenly Eye.
“I asked him to step away for a time.”
“Is that wise?”
“For the mighty Sword Queen? Of course.”
The Heavenly Eye chuckled lightly and took a sip of tea. The Sword Queen followed suit, drinking from her own cup.
“You may not see it, but I am deeply astonished at this moment.”
The Sword Queen’s gaze sharpened at his words.
“Fate is not something mortals like us can alter. Yet these eyes of mine… they have been granted a glimpse of what is to come.”
“I know.”
He was called the Heavenly Eye precisely because he could perceive what others could not—calamities looming on the horizon, visions sent from the heavens themselves.
“…The only reason this feeble body sits in the seat of Chief Abbot, indulging in comforts I have not earned, is because of these eyes.”
“Do not speak of earning. You have more than earned your rest.”
The Sword Queen shook her head. Had it not been for this old man—sitting in the most difficult of positions, watching tirelessly for disasters—the martial world would never have been prepared for the rise of the True Demon Sect.
“Over the years, I have seen and heard much. And I have come to realize one thing.”
“And that is?”
“What I see with these eyes… cannot be changed.”
To the Chief Abbot, it was an immutable law. If he foresaw the Gate of Demons opening, it would open. If he witnessed a calamity, that calamity would arrive without fail.
Such was the nature of the Heavenly Eye.
“And yet, in a way, this gift is itself a calamity.”
He could not prevent what he saw. Knowing that countless would die, yet being powerless to stop it—that was his personal curse.
The Sword Queen listened in silence, then asked, “Why are you telling me this?”
“There is a reason. A very important one.”
Their teacups were empty now. Only a hushed wind moved between them.
“When I heard you were coming to see me… nothing has shocked me more.”
“May I ask why?”
The Chief Abbot was silent for a long moment.
“Because you… should not be standing on this earth today.”
“…”
The Sword Queen showed no reaction, as though she had expected those very words.
“You are not surprised.”
“You begged me not to enter the Abyss, all those years ago.”
Her decision to venture into the Abyss in search of answers—the Chief Abbot had pleaded with her not to go.
“It did not take me long to understand what you meant.”
She was certain he had known what awaited her.
“So your shock at seeing me… is because of that?”
“I saw your final moments.”
The Chief Abbot had witnessed her transformation—the beautiful swordswoman withering into an old woman, her body broken, unable to withstand the corruption. Her end should have been near.
It should have been.
“Even your sect leader—the Celestial Plum Blossom—rarely as he shows emotion… was flushed with anger.”
“…”
“You know how deeply he values you.”
“I have caused him grief.”
Why had the Celestial Plum Blossom not told her, even knowing what was to come? The Chief Abbot remembered the man’s fury clearly.
Fate did not change. He had learned that through decades of struggle.
He believed the Sword Queen would be no exception.
“…And yet, here you stand before me. How is this possible?”
“Are you displeased that I am well?”
“No… Rather, I am so glad that my heart trembles with it.”
He had believed nothing could alter fate. That was why it was called fate.
The calamity approaching the world—he knew it would come, but not how it would end. That uncertainty was what drove him onward.
Had he known the world would end, would he have fought so hard?
He knew the answer: he would not.
“May I ask… what happened to you?”
At his question, the Sword Queen thought of a certain young man—the elder brother of her dear disciple, a fierce-looking boy who had saved her.
If the Chief Abbot’s vision was true…
If she was fated to die from the toxic energy festering within her, then it was that boy who had defied destiny.
How was it possible?
Because he was from the Gu Clan?
The reason she had rushed to Hanam, sparing no expense of her qi…
“Yes, tell me why you have come.”
“You once said you were in my debt.”
“I am. Countless lives were saved because of you.”
At the Chief Abbot’s desperate request, when none other dared, the Sword Queen had entered the True Gate of Demons alone, risking her life.
She did not believe he owed her anything. He had only sought to save others.
And yet, now she had no choice but to call upon that past deed.
“…Then I must dare to ask a favor of you.”
“Speak.”
“Do you remember when the Heavenly Army and the then-Alliance Leader journeyed into the Abyss?”
“…”
The Chief Abbot fell silent, as though struck by an old wound.
Seeing his reaction, the Sword Queen pressed gently, “Do you know what happened in the Heavenly Abyss of Birth?”
Of the four great Abysses known to the world, the Heavenly Abyss of Birth was the most mysterious—the very one the Sword Venerable and the Heavenly Army had entered long ago.
The Chief Abbot nodded slowly.
“I do.”
The Sword Queen bit her lip. She had hoped he would not.
“The reason I did not speak of it when you asked before… was because there was no need for you to carry that burden.”
“What do you…?”
“I do not know what you saw in the Abyss. But what you witnessed… is likely not what the Sword Venerable saw.”
The Sword Queen remembered a colossal tree—a rotting, violet giant whose branches blotted out the sky. Leafless, lifeless.
A world crumbling into decay.
The end of the world itself.
Yet he claimed the Sword Venerable had seen something different.
Then what of the words the Captain told me…?
Gu Cheolun had spoken as though they had seen the same vision.
But the Chief Abbot’s words now suggested otherwise.
As she wrestled with the contradiction, the Chief Abbot spoke again.
“There is much I cannot tell you.”
“…”
“It is not out of personal loyalty, nor any promise I made to the Sword Venerable.”
A metaphysical restraint? No—the Sword Queen sensed something else.
“Do you know why the Sword Venerable entered the Abyss?”
She nodded. Officially, it was to rescue his daughter. But many believed a greater purpose lay behind it.
The Heavenly Army had been nearly wiped out; the few survivors took their own lives. In the aftermath, the Sword Venerable stepped down, the Murim Alliance halted all Abyss research, and the centuries-old Heavenly Army was disbanded.
The Sword Queen wanted the truth.
“What you wish to know—the reason the Sword Venerable entered the Heavenly Abyss of Birth, the reason the Alliance ceased its studies…”
The Chief Abbot’s voice grew weary.
“It is because there is a god within the Heavenly Abyss of Birth.”
The Sword Queen frowned.
“What are you—?”
“And not only there. The other Abysses, too… each has its god.”
“Chief Abbot, what are you saying?”
A god? Like the deities revered by Taoist sects?
But coming from the Shaolin Sect’s leader—a man who worshipped no divinity—the word felt alien, ominous.
“If ‘god’ seems strange, then call it the owner.”
“Owner? I do not understand.”
“Even if you cannot comprehend, there is no better word. The master of a world… its god. If not a god, what else could it be?”
The Chief Abbot’s expression darkened profoundly. Then he began to cough, covering his mouth as though the topic itself choked him.
Splat!
Blood seeped through his thin fingers.
“Chief Abbot!”
The Sword Queen moved to support him, but he raised a hand to stop her.
“This… is all I can say.”
“…”
He wiped the blood away as though it were nothing. The Sword Queen could press no further.
As she struggled with frustration, he spoke again.
“Sword Queen.”
“Yes.”
“Do not seek this knowledge.”
“…”
“Do not throw away the miracle you have been granted.”
“Is the truth I seek… so dangerous?”
The Chief Abbot did not answer.
But his silence was answer enough.
In the stillness that followed, the two could only regard one another, wordless and grave.
* * *
Time passed.
The day before Gu Yangcheon’s scheduled confinement had arrived.
Having finished his training outdoors as usual, he was heading back when—
“…What do you want?”
He frowned as Moyong Hi-ah appeared before him, seemingly out of nowhere. She had been absent for days, and now here she was, spouting nonsense again.
It was hardly the first time.
“Did you not hear me?”
“I heard you. I’m asking because I hoped I misheard.”
“Oh, I see.”
Moyong Hi-ah nodded amiably and repeated, clearly and cheerfully:
“Please spend the night with me today.”
Gu Yangcheon’s brow furrowed deeper.
He took a steadying breath. Crazy people said crazy things—this was not new.
And since he was no longer the rude brute he once was, he would respond with all the kindness he could muster.
I’m sorry, but what do you mean by that?
“Screw off.”
“…?”
“Oh.”
Gu Yangcheon covered his mouth.
“…I accidentally said what I was thinking.”
It was a mistake.