Chapter 92: Preparation (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 92: Preparation (1)
It was an inexplicably cold winter.
The chill seeped through my knees as I knelt on the frozen ground. The faces of the people standing around me were veiled in shadow, but I knew instinctively what expressions they wore.
Pity? Sympathy?
No…
They felt nothing at all—not an iota of emotion.
Surrounded by those hateful eyes, I stared listlessly at the woman before me. Her trembling hands touched my cheek as tears streamed endlessly from her eyes. And I… could not utter a single word. All I could do was stare back with hollow eyes.
[I’m sorry…]
I didn’t understand why she was apologizing.
For what? What is she sorry for?
[Mom is sorry…]
The same words fell from her lips again and again, a sad tune accompanying her trembling voice. Still, I could not speak—not even a whisper.
I wondered what expression my father wore as he stood beside me. But I couldn’t bring myself to look. If I did… I felt I would shatter into pieces. Or perhaps I already had.
[…Let go.]
My father’s cold voice cut through the air. At his command, my mother’s hand slowly fell from my cheek.
[…I’m sorry.]
Those same damned words… they hammered into my chest.
Whose fault was this, really?
Snow had begun to fall. I shivered in the icy air. The outer garment my mother had draped over me had been torn away by the cruel wind, yet no one cared. This was the first time I had ever felt such a chill—not from the winter, but from a coldness that seemed to freeze me from the inside out. I learned then that this feeling was far more terrifying than any seasonal frost.
[Preparations?]
[Everything is ready, sir.]
My mother bowed her head after the brief exchange. I, who had been watching it all, finally found my voice.
[…Why?]
I didn’t dare meet his eyes, but I knew he was looking at me.
[…Why are you showing me this?]
I couldn’t understand. Why did I have to witness this? Why did I have to see my mother cry? I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to understand.
[What do you want from me…?]
[What I want from you?] My father’s voice was like ice. What emotion lay beneath it? Anger? Too calm. Sadness? Too dry.
[Nothing.]
His emotionless reply forced my gaze upward.
[I want nothing from you. Just stay alive—that is all.]
His words, cold and apathetic, carried a frigid chill that suffocated my heart. Then his eyes shifted.
[Open.]
With a gesture of his hand, a massive door tore through the space behind my mother. It was tinged with a red aura, and a sickening stench rode the rushing wind.
[What is…]
As fear and confusion gripped me, my mother gently took my hand. I looked at her, trembling, but her face was lowered, hidden from view.
[…Take care of Ryunghwa.]
[Mom…?]
I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to ask where she was going, why she was leaving us behind. But it was too late. I reached for her, but as the door’s aura brushed against her, she began to fade from existence.
[N… No! Mom!]
I lunged forward, desperate to hold onto her, but my father shoved me back. I tried again, but the door had already closed. Where my mother had knelt moments before, there was nothing. No trace. As if she had never been there at all.
[Why… Just why?]
How could you do this to us?
I cried out, but my father’s eyes never turned toward me. I didn’t need his love. I knew he wasn’t capable of such feelings, and I had long accepted that. I wanted nothing from him. As a child, I had been content with what little I had.
[…Why…! Why, why! Why!!]
I threw myself at him, pounding against him as if he were a stone wall. I knew it didn’t hurt him, but if I didn’t retaliate, I felt I would go mad. When my arms finally gave out, drained of all strength, he spoke in that same frigid tone.
[Are you satisfied.]
It was not a question. There was no emotion in his voice.
Hearing those words, I collapsed. Darkness swallowed my vision. It was then that I learned what despair truly felt like.
As I lay there, tears streaming, breaths ragged, my father stepped over me as though I were nothing and spoke.
[Follow me. I have something to show you.]
They were less words than orders. My body was already being dragged away. I didn’t want to think anymore. I wanted to remain in that darkness forever.
But as if to show me that my suffering had only just begun, I was forced into the Gu Clan’s basement. There, I finally saw the truth of our clan—why it existed, and what purpose we served.
My father told me it was our fate—the destiny of every member of the Gu Clan.
On that dark, colorless winter night, I realized the rest of my life would be a descent into hell.
* * *
I fell silent for a moment after the Sword Queen’s question. I hadn’t expected this from her. I never thought she would ask me something like that.
…About my mother?
It made sense, since she was my mother’s friend. But that knowledge didn’t stir my curiosity.
Did she not hear from Gu Ryunghwa? Or does she know something?
Gu Ryunghwa had witnessed everything that day, but she lost consciousness before it was over.
“Why are you curious about that?” I asked, unaware of the sharpness in my own tone. I needed to calm down.
The Sword Queen’s expression remained serene. The whereabouts of my mother were something I had wondered about my entire life. Ironically, I only learned the truth after meeting the Heavenly Demon.
“Mother passed away.”
Was that really what happened? It was a question I asked myself, one whose answer I didn’t want to know.
It’s only right that Gu Ryunghwa holds resentment toward the clan and me.
The truth is a sin.
That damned truth was mine to bear alone.
“I can’t tell you more. It’s a clan matter,” I said, signaling an end to the discussion. This was better than lying.
The Sword Queen stared into my eyes for a long time. I didn’t look away. Finally, she closed her eyes in resignation.
“Right… I’m sorry for asking something so painful.”
“It’s fine. It’s in the past.”
“Thank you for understanding. Oh… When will you be returning to your clan?”
“In a day or two.”
“Even with the tournament about to start…?”
From her reaction, it seemed she didn’t know about Gu Ryunghwa’s refusal to return.
“I originally planned to leave after the event, but I’m considering an early departure since my sister says she won’t be returning with us.”
Gu Ryunghwa was required to return to the clan at a specific time each year—a deal my father had made with the Sword Queen. I was supposed to bring her back no matter what. But given that my father had sent me here with a heavenly pill…
My task is to bring her back, but I’m in a position where I can throw a tantrum without consequence.
The clan elders would be watching, and forcing her return might cause some trouble, but nothing major.
He’ll handle it himself if necessary.
If that weren’t his intention, he would have dealt with this personally. He wouldn’t have sent me.
I had no desire to force a girl to come with me when she clearly didn’t want to.
I should be the only one forced to do things against my will.
Reclaiming what I lost in my past life was my burden to bear, one piece at a time.
The Sword Queen looked puzzled by my words. I had spoken carefully to avoid causing issues, but had I troubled her anyway? Contrary to my worries, she soon nodded.
“Okay. I see.”
She stood promptly.
“I apologize for taking up your time.”
“…You’re leaving?”
“I’ve said all I came to say. Besides, the eyes outside are quite intimidating.”
The eyes outside?
I followed her out to see her off.
“I’ll be waiting excitedly for the request you’ll make.”
“There’s no need for excitement.”
It was an important matter, but I still needed to think it over.
“Next time, I’ll bring the Immortal Healer with me.”
“…You needn’t come to me. I’ll visit you once more before I leave.”
The Sword Queen smiled warmly, a genuine smile that reached her eyes, but said nothing in reply. Was she ignoring me? I felt a twinge of unease.
“Huh?”
Outside, I found Gu Ryunghwa and Namgung Bi-ah waiting. I thought she’d gone to train. What was she doing here?
Namgung Bi-ah glanced between me and the Sword Queen, her face as expressionless as ever. I moved to approach her, but the Sword Queen reached her first.
“So you are that child.”
Namgung Bi-ah seemed slightly taken aback. She began to bow—a natural gesture of respect toward a renowned martial artist—but the Sword Queen gently took her hand.
“…Ah!”
“Thank you for saving my disciple… Thank you so much.”
“Um… It’s…”
It was refreshing to see Namgung Bi-ah so flustered.
“My disciple told me much about you. That a beautiful girl took care of her and helped greatly with her training and swordsmanship.”
“…Ah…”
Namgung Bi-ah looked away, embarrassed.
“You are as beautiful as she said. I’ve never seen such a pretty child in all my life.”
With each compliment, Namgung Bi-ah’s head lowered further.
The Sword Queen continued, looking at the shy girl. “I heard you are Yangcheon’s fiancée.”
Yangcheon?
I paused for a split second, surprised to hear her use that name so casually. I hadn’t realized we were that familiar.
Namgung Bi-ah gave a slight nod. She showed no intention of denying it. Not that I had much will to deny it either…
“Both you and Yangcheon have kind hearts. You’ll be a good match.”
I’m not so sure about that.
I held my tongue, not wanting to ruin the moment, though I privately disagreed.
The Sword Queen told Namgung Bi-ah she wished to see her once more before we left, to properly thank her for teaching and saving her disciple. After confirming the Sword Queen had left, I turned to Namgung Bi-ah.
“You didn’t go to train?”
“…No.”
The bandages were off her arms—thankfully, her broken hand had healed in just a few days.
“…Good. Huh? What’s wrong?”
“Hm?”
“You seem like you’re in a good mood.”
Was I mistaken? It looked like Namgung Bi-ah was smiling faintly. Her face was as stoic as ever, but somehow she seemed… pleased.
“Not really,” she replied.
But from where I stood, she definitely seemed happier.
Was it the compliments from the Sword Queen?
I thought she didn’t care about being called pretty, but it seemed even she was susceptible to praise.
* * *
The Sword Queen mused as she walked back to the hut.
…What happened back then?
It concerned the children’s mother. Gu Yangcheon clearly knew something, but he was hiding it—so much so that pressing him further might turn him hostile. The Sword Queen didn’t want that. She was already indebted to him, and she felt guilty for being unable to repay him.
Above all, she wanted her disciple to be happy. That was her priority as a master. When she had been nearing the end of her life, her only wish was for Gu Ryunghwa to find happiness.
“Ryunghwa.”
Gu Ryunghwa stopped at her master’s call. Simply holding her master’s hand filled her with boundless joy, and a bright smile graced her face.
“I heard you said you wouldn’t return to the clan. Is that true?”
“Oh…”
A shadow fell over her expression.
“Um… When I told him I didn’t want to go, he said I didn’t have to…”
“But you should. A promise is a promise.”
“But…!”
Gu Ryunghwa couldn’t continue. Her master was healthy now—a miracle. They could walk hand in hand, train together during free moments. To Gu Ryunghwa, it felt like a dream. That was why she hesitated.
It was true she didn’t want to return to the clan for a single second, but there was another reason now.
…What if something happens to Master while I’m gone?
She felt uneasy leaving her behind.
Noticing her worry, the Sword Queen patted her head gently.
“Do not worry.”
“Master…”
“If you’re so uneasy, let’s go together this time.”
“Huh…?”
Gu Ryunghwa was puzzled, unable to make sense of the suggestion.
The Sword Queen laughed aloud, seeing her disciple’s confusion. She wasn’t just saying it to comfort her. She was serious. Deadly serious.
“It seems I have business with the Gu Clan as well. Let’s go together.”
Master… coming with me?
A question mark formed in Gu Ryunghwa’s mind.