Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Dream is a Dream
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Dream is a Dream
It was no use protesting that he didn't need another wedding.
Arak Jangha was utterly unyielding.
He frothed at the mouth, insisting that the imperial ceremony had been nothing but a show for the kingdom's leaders—a mere formality—and that the real wedding was this one with the clan gathered. There was no arguing with his sheer force of will.
Even Queen Arak Siru and Luha didn't seem particularly opposed. And so, they had come to the Arak Clan manor—now under the World Subduing Division—for the second wedding. True to the queen's lineage, the Arak Clan estate exuded an overwhelming grandeur. He donned the ceremonial robes there, far more ornate than the previous ones, like a child dressed in colorful patchwork.
The wedding was held in the grand training grounds.
A wedding hall had been set up in the training grounds, with tents for the groom and bride waiting nearby.
Countless tables were lined up at precise intervals across the grounds.
Ak Muyoo waited in the tent on the right for the ceremony to begin. He had entered half a shichen ago. Ageukta and the others were with him. It was meant to be the groom's family seating, but with no family of his own, Ageukta's group filled the spots.
"Feeling good?"
Seo Haran peered closely at Ak Muyoo's face.
"What do you think?"
"You look thrilled."
"Then it must be good."
"You don't seem thrilled."
"Neither the queen nor Lady Luha means anything to me. I just happened to be at the former clan head's deathbed and got roped into a promise to protect the clan. That's all there is to it. But..."
"It feels like it's gotten way too big?"
"Yeah. Think about it. Do I have any wealth? Any prestigious sect or clan? Nothing. If you're empty-handed, you need at least strong martial arts or some dream for the future. But me? I'm just like my name—nothing. The one thing I have is nothing."
"What's your name mean?"
"Mu-yu—無有."
"So it's the 'nothing' mu from mu and the 'have' yu from yu?"
"Yeah. Mu-yu, from musoyu—無所有—minus the so."
"Who named you that?"
"'You've survived over a year, so I'll give you a name. From now on, you're Ak Muyoo.' That's what that bastard said. And that bastard's my father."
"...That's sad. I was loved a lot when I was born, at least. Want a hug? It'd be as Buddha's disciple, not as a woman."
"No thanks."
"The groom, please enter!"
A call came from outside.
"Urgh!"
Ak Muyoo groaned, pushed open the tent flap, and stepped out. His group followed as his attendants on the groom's side.
A long carpet stretched from the tent to the ceremony site.
"Woooah!"
"Whoooaaa!"
Cheers erupted from all sides as he appeared. The grounds were packed to bursting—thousands, at least.
"Huh?"
Ak Muyoo's eyes widened. The crowd wasn't just Arak Clan members. Hundreds from the Central Division were there too.
"Congratulations, Clan Head!"
Jung Tae-rang waved and shouted.
"Congrats!"
Holran called out next.
Ak Muyoo waved awkwardly as he walked the carpet. The ceremony site had four pillars draped with red cloth overhead to block the sun, open on all sides, with a massive table piled with food in the center.
The table was a full zhang long.
"Groom, stand here."
Arak Jangha was officiating.
He pointed to the right side of the table. Ak Muyoo took his place there.
"Bride, enter."
Arak Jangha called again.
The tent flap near the site opened, and two women emerged: Luha and Arak Siru. They wore matching outfits.
Ak Muyoo glanced at Arak Jangha.
"We decided to hold the ceremony together since you haven't wed Lady Luha yet."
"So that's why..."
Now he understood the Central Division folks.
*I'm just the pants. Know what pants are?*
He wanted to shout it.
*Whatever.*
He was past caring.
The two women approached, and the ceremony began. They exchanged wine, bowed, followed the rites. Unlike the royal wedding, this one dragged on. Ak Muyoo sweated buckets.
By the time his sweat-soaked robes clung to his skin, it finally ended. The sun had dipped low, painting everything purple.
"All done..."
"Groom and bride, sit here."
Before he could finish, Arak Jangha pointed to a long bench.
"It's not over?"
*Now it begins, son-in-law.*
Manju Jeokhwa's transmission reached him.
Ak Muyoo turned. Manju Jeokhwa and her daughter Geohwa sat in the left VIP seats, along with the newly appointed vice leaders and their families. He glanced back at Manju Jeokhwa, who smiled faintly as their eyes met.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
Unable to transmit, he just spoke aloud. Warriors could grasp the gist anyway.
*Hohohoho! Getting two wives calls for some hardship, no?*
"I said I'm the pants."
*Pants or not, a groom's a groom.*
Ak Muyoo sat in the center, Arak Siru and Luha on either side.
"Marriage is like this. You faced each other before, but now all three must look ahead together. Staring forward, you might miss each other, breed misunderstandings, even fights. Sitting on one bench means resolve disputes in conversation, understand one another. Thus, you three..."
Arak Jangha's speech was endless.
It dragged so long he nearly thanked him when it ended.
"Now, the post-ceremony events begin."
Arak Jangha boomed.
Workers piled firewood in the center of the grounds—prepped earlier. Dozens scurried with ladders, stacking it three zhang high (nine meters). A cave-like gap at the base allowed entry, stuffed with resin.
Food kept arriving atop the table. Musicians set up nearby.
Sunset yielded to night.
"We begin the Fire Rite."
"What's the Fire Rite?"
Ak Muyoo asked Luha.
"Fireworks."
"Any meaning?"
"It means love that blazes like flames."
"You three, come forward."
Arak Jangha summoned them before the woodpile. They approached.
"Hold hands."
Ak Muyoo took Luha's left hand, Arak Siru's right.
"You two, take this torch together."
Arak Jangha handed it over.
Luha and Arak Siru gripped it. The torch was oddly phallic. He lit it instantly.
"Now, light it."
They stood before the wood cave. The women thrust the torch in and out repeatedly.
"This is..."
"Right. Symbolizes man and woman. Blazing love like flames, many children like this woodpile."
Luha explained.
"Like the woodpile?"
"It's symbolic."
"Even so."
Soon, they ignited the inner resin clumps.
Whoosh!
Resin coated the wood; flames spread instantly, roaring high.
"Woooah!"
Cheers thundered.
Boom! Boom-boom! Drums pounded, instruments played lively tunes. People surged forward, dancing to the music.
Wine and food flooded the grounds; cups were poured freely.
A night ripe with joy.
Ak Muyoo received countless toasts. He lost count. He drank but never to excess—always measured.
Some questioned drinking without getting drunk, but he craved no release from tension.
Tonight, though, resistance was futile.
*Congrats! Drink, and give me a toast too.*
*Drink and pass it?*
*Steal some of your luck—maybe snag a fine wife myself.*
Who could refuse eyes staring so hopefully?
He drank them all.
For the first time in ten undefeated years, he lost.
To alcohol.
His head throbbed as he opened his eyes. Vision blurry. No clue where he was. Focus sharpened; a lavish ceiling emerged, painted.
*The Paradise Realm painting.*
He nodded.
Everyone smiled—no frowns, no tears. Food everywhere, yet none ate—all full. No oxen toiling.
*Is that a path?*
Ak Muyoo tilted his head.
A line snaked through the edges: curving left, right, down, inward to the revelers.
*Guess you follow that path to paradise.*
He grinned.
Thud!
Something heavy and warm settled on his thigh.
"What?"
He looked down.
*Gasp!*
Eyes wide.
First, his lower body—naked. Not just below; fully nude.
And atop his thigh: a human leg.
*This...*
*First night, son-in-law. No separate beds allowed.*
Arak Jangha's words echoed.
That was his last memory.
He turned sideways.
*Heavens!*
Mouth agape. Arak Siru pillowed on his right arm—naked too. Her breath reeked of wine.
*Still pretty, though.*
Disheveled hair, wine breath, yet stunning at thirty-nine: no excess fat, impossibly perky breasts, sculpted hips—mystifying.
He turned left.
Luha lay there, naked too.
*Booze is the enemy.*
Sober, these women wouldn't be here. Maybe they puked and stripped.
*With women like this, living it up might...*
"Pfft! Hilarious."
He chuckled, carefully withdrew his arm. Lingering risked trouble.
Even without, their waking would be awkward.
He shifted Arak Siru's leg, rose, grabbed scattered clothes, dressed haphazardly, headed for the door. Paused to look back.
"A midsummer night's dream. Like that Paradise Realm..."
He glanced at the painting.
"Snort!"
He laughed again.
Between the women, he'd seen the path clearly. Now? Gone.
*Definitely a dream.*
Shaking his head, he stepped out.