Chapter 60: The Fall of Plum Blossom Dragon (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 60: The Fall of Plum Blossom Dragon (3)
Nothing welcomed him.
Not the sound of the rain, nor the moonlight straining to break through the clouds, nor the breeze that tugged at his hair.
Nothing at all.
The woman’s voice cut through his haze.
[…Are you crying?]
[Crying my ass. It’s the rain.]
His reply was coarse, yet he didn’t pull away when her hand reached for his cheek. He, who would normally have slapped it aside, instead leaned into her touch, allowing her cold palm to nestle against his skin.
[You… really aren’t.]
[Looks like you want me to be.]
The man was hollowed out. He truly believed there was nothing left inside him capable of producing tears.
[…Disappointing.]
Her voice was flat, utterly devoid of emotion. It was the same tone she’d used even as death crept inexorably closer.
He figured she had become this way after killing more people than she could count, witnessing death’s visage so many times it had become mundane.
The woman was missing an arm. A gaping hole was torn through her chest. The only reason she still clung to life was the profound strength of her martial arts. But even that wouldn’t last much longer.
[Why did you do this?]
He couldn’t comprehend her actions. Not one bit.
At the final moment, the blade had been meant for him. She could have survived, yet she threw herself in his path.
He didn’t understand. No—he refused to understand.
He was the one who was supposed to be lying broken on the ground. That was the destiny ordained from the moment this bloody war began.
But she had interfered. She had rewritten his fate.
And that made him furious. Yes, that was it. He convinced himself that this seething heat in his chest was pure, unadulterated anger.
The woman’s hand slowly stroked his cheek. The relentless patter of the rain sickened him.
[Don’t cry.]
He tried to push her hand away, but his fingers, closing around her frail wrist, lacked the strength to follow through.
[…Don’t cry.]
She repeated the words to the desolate man, her own eyes long since shut tight. Was it pity? Camaraderie? He could no longer tell.
[…I told you, I’m not crying.]
[Don’t… cry.]
Her hair, a cascade of white with a faint blue tint, was soaked black by the rain, its light extinguished. And the moonlight he so despised… of course, it vanished the moment he might have needed to see her clearly.
[…Is the moon still there…?]
Her voice was a whisper now.
The man looked up. The sky was a shroud of dark clouds, offering only a downpour of cold rain.
The woman loved the moon. He remembered her, time and again, sitting on a rock and gazing at it in a daze.
[…Yes, it’s there.]
Both of them knew it was a lie. The clouds and rain hid everything. But they played along, pretending ignorance.
[…Are you next to me?]
Her voice faded further.
A blank smile touched his lips at her foolish question.
[You’re touching my cheek and still have to ask?]
For a fleeting instant, he thought he saw the ghost of a smile on her face. Perhaps it was just a trick of the shadows.
[…We’re both here. That’s good.]
What is there to be relieved about? The question died in his throat. Those were her last words.
Then, the man gently lowered her hand.
There would be no carrying her body away, no proper burial. She wouldn’t have wanted it, and in his current state, he couldn’t afford it.
[Found you!]
The man slowly turned. Behind him stood tens, perhaps hundreds, of martial artists. They wore white uniforms with blue accents, the word ‘Alliance’ emblazoned upon them.
At their head stood a strikingly handsome man, now drawing his sword.
[Thankfully, you didn’t get far.]
The man could see the righteous determination in the handsome man’s eyes, his will to save the world’s peace. He forcibly suppressed a shudder.
[…The Meteor Sword.]
The Meteor Sword, Jang Seonyeon. The man hailed as the future of the Orthodox Faction.
As the man spoke his name, the Meteor Sword’s eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly. Before he could respond, a woman beside him shouted.
[How dare you! Don’t you defile our leader’s name with your filthy demonic mouth!]
The man ignored her. The rain felt heavier than ever, a physical weight pressing down on him.
[…I keep forgetting.]
He rubbed his face in exhaustion. Yes, he kept forgetting. The reason he stood here. The role he was forced to play in this farce. He forgot it all, over and over.
[…The Heavenly Demon will soon fall. Just surrender!]
The man smirked at the Meteor Sword’s words. He tried to hold it back but failed, a dry chuckle escaping.
[The Lord will fall? By whose hand?]
[The Heavenly Demon is battling the Three Venerables—]
[Ah, the Three Venerables? So you left them to face the Demon and brought this entire army to capture a lowly soldier like me?]
His smirk widened into a grim smile. The Meteor Sword’s face gradually hardened into a deep frown.
The man finally stopped his hollow laughter.
[Right. Let’s get this over with. If I don’t take this seriously, everyone will throw a fit again.]
He took a single step forward.
From the soles of his feet, raging flames of dark fury erupted, instantly swallowing the entire forest.
As the martial artists scrambled into battle stances, the man’s eyes locked solely on the Meteor Sword. His face became an emotionless mask once more.
[You sick bastard.]
The Meteor Sword’s mouth trembled slightly, but his form was quickly obscured as the conflagration surged, consuming everything. The flames swelled, devouring the forest and, within moments, reducing everything within a several-mile radius to ash.
According to the subsequent report from the Murim Alliance—‘The demonic entity managed to escape. The Meteor Sword was the sole survivor; all others were burnt to cinders.’
* * *
“A duel.”
I coughed at Namgung Bi-ah’s sudden declaration.
The memories that surfaced unbidden were always the most nauseating. Why? Why did that particular incident resurface now, of all times?
I had to look away from Namgung Bi-ah’s face. If I kept looking, the terrifying memory might overwhelm me, and I’d lose my composure.
“…Did you not just see me finish a fight?”
I had just dueled Yung Pung. Hadn’t she been watching with everyone else? Why challenge me right after?
At my question, Namgung Bi-ah’s lips formed a pout, and she grew visibly sulky. Seeing such an expression on her… was rare. In my previous life, I couldn't have imagined it.
Each time she acted like this, it reinforced how different she was from the Demon Sword of my memories. Yet, a strange, lingering feeling in my heart refused to dissipate completely.
[You’ve become so inconsistent. Just pick a lane; it’s annoying.]
Your words are getting harsher, Elder.
[Hmph.]
Was he upset that a disciple from his sect lost, even though he was the one who pushed for the duel? Surely he wasn’t that petty…?
[…You rotten piece of shit.]
…Seems I was right.
Then again, his bias toward the Mount Hua Sect was showing. He was truly one of them, after all.
[That’s irrelevant here. A lord must discipline their own.]
Then why are you angry?
[…I’m frustrated he lost after manifesting the plum blossoms. In my day, we weren’t so weak…!]
…What do you mean—
[Kids these days, sigh… That’s not how you wield that technique…]
I decided to ignore him entirely. Turning my focus back to Namgung Bi-ah, I spoke.
“Is this because you’re still sulking about me rejecting you earlier?”
Was her stubbornness rooted in the fact that I’d accepted Yung Pung’s challenge instead of hers? I must have hit the mark, because Namgung Bi-ah’s eyes flickered slightly.
“…I’m not sulking.”
Her voice wavered, just a little.
“It certainly looks like you are.”
“I’m… not.”
“Are you sure?”
But why was she avoiding my gaze? Since when could her face display so much emotion? Whether it was her youth or her true nature, I didn’t know. But one thing about the evasive Namgung Bi-ah piqued my curiosity.
“Lady Namgung.”
“…Hmm?”
“Do you like the moon?”
Namgung Bi-ah tilted her head, confused by the random question. After a moment of thought, rolling her eyes, she answered.
“Not really…?”
A smirk touched my lips.
“You didn’t like the moon, huh.”
I had a memory of her saying she did. Perhaps she never actually said it aloud.
“…?”
Seeing her visible confusion at my muttering, I continued.
“The duel… We can do it next time.”
“…!”
Her eyes widened in surprise. Was the promise of a future duel that shocking?
“…You’ll duel me?”
“Only if you speak to me formally.”
“Young Master?”
“…Never mind. Do whatever you want.”
I honestly gave up at that point. This habit of hers was beyond fixing.
I had already expended too much qi and could feel bone-deep exhaustion setting in. I’d held back, but the technique was inherently rough; it was bound to take its toll soon. I’d probably be in pain even lying down.
[I hope you get sleep paralysis.]
Aren’t you a bit old for that? How can a ghost wish a sleep paralysis demon on his host?
[Act my age!? Why, you little brat…!]
A sudden headache pulsed in my temples from the old man’s shouting. As I wrapped my hands around my head, Namgung Bi-ah approached.
“What’s wrong?”
“My head just—”
Then, her hand suddenly touched my cheek.
The gesture overlapped perfectly with the memory, her words syncing with the echo from the past.
“It’s burning…”
[Don't cry.]
A wave of ominous dread washed over me. Reacting purely on reflex, I slapped her hand away.
“…?”
Namgung Bi-ah stared alternately at her slapped hand and mine, a look of confusion on her face. I’d acted too rashly.
I let out a deliberate cough and apologized. “I’m sorry. You surprised me.”
[You can’t even accept a free meal when it’s handed to you.]
Namgung Bi-ah nodded at my apology, indicating it was fine.
“Then… next time.”
After muttering those words, she turned and walked away. Her footsteps seemed just a touch lighter, almost happy.
As I watched her go, Elder Shin’s voice echoed in my mind.
[You really didn’t want to, so why the change of heart?]
When did I say I didn’t want to?
[Up until the moment you promised her a duel, and even now, you feel hesitant—]
She seemed to want it so badly. I just agreed.
[…Right. Well, if you do duel her, control it this time.]
Control what?
[That beast-like skill of yours. Be more cautious with your qi.]*
His tone was serious, no longer joking.
[I had to go through the hassle of suppressing the beast because you used so much qi.]
…Huh?
[What horrendous thing did you consume to have this inside you…? You really want to make an old man suffer, you little brat!?]*
You’re not even alive. What are you talking about?
Elder Shin raged on in response. Simply blocking my ears did nothing to stop the internal noise, which was more than a little annoying.
Despite my flippant replies, it seemed I had a serious problem on my hands. For ‘that thing’ to rampage when I use too much qi… Elder Shin’s warning was deeply unwelcome. Now that I could finally use my power freely, an internal issue suddenly appears?
What could it be? I didn’t know if it originated from the treasure or was something that had been inside me all along. I hoped Elder Shin was lying, but I couldn’t be sure.
Hopefully, I can find some answers when we reach Mount Hua. Though I doubted the sect held a solution, I had no other leads. Another problem to deal with later. There was nothing I could do about it here in the mountains.
I let the Mount Hua group tend to Yung Pung and returned to my camp. Something felt different as I entered. After a moment, I realized what it was: Wi Seol-Ah hadn’t come running to greet me.
“…Huh? Did she really go somewhere?”
It wasn’t like her to greet me every single time, but she usually did in situations like this. A flicker of worry arose. I asked a nearby servant.
“Seol-Ah was with her grandpa earlier.”
Relief washed over me. There was nothing to worry about when she was with the Sword Venerable.
…So, starting tomorrow, we’ll be traveling with Namgung Bi-ah, huh?
[…You’re lucky she’s packing–]
As I pondered this, Elder Shin spoke up.
…Elder Shin, you’re not much of a Taoist, are you?
[You little brat…! How dare you say that to the ancestor of a Taoist sect!?]*
No matter how I looked at it, this guy was unfit to have been the Lord of Mount Hua, let alone its Divine Sword. It was an embarrassment to both past and present members of the sect.
[…You know I can hear you, right?]*
Yes, that’s why I’m saying it. Don’t worry about it.
[Hahaha, what a piece of shit you are, indeed.]*
The night had grown deep after the duel. I needed to sleep; staying up would only make tomorrow harder.
I felt a little bad for Yung Pung. I might have gone a bit too far.
[A bit far? You say that after burning all those precious blossoms to cinders!?]*
…I thought he could handle it.
If a setback like this broke him, he’d never overcome his limitations anyway.
I wanted to wash off the sweat from the duel, but a profound laziness settled in. I decided to just sleep.
[…How filthy, sleeping in that state.]*
As always, I completely ignored Elder Shin.
* * *
Wi Seol-Ah was talking with the Sword Venerable for the first time in a while. Their conversations usually consisted of him telling stories while she listened intently, enjoying every word.
As she was drifting off to sleep, her eyes half-closed, Wi Seol-Ah suddenly asked a question that had been on her mind.
“Grandpa.”
“Hmm?”
“What’s a fiancée?”
“HMM?”
The Sword Venerable made a strange face. He felt a pang of embarrassment; while he’d been lenient in raising her, he’d neglected to teach her such a basic thing.
He didn’t know why she was asking, but he assumed it was just another of her random curiosities, like what an eagle might taste like. So, he answered lightly.
“A fiancée is…”
“Yeah…!”
As the Sword Venerable explained, Wi Seol-Ah’s expression grew darker and darker. But he didn’t notice, and continued his explanation.
The next day, Wi Seol-Ah stopped talking to Namgung Bi-ah.