I Was a Virgin Until the Day I Died

The evil spirit's sword came down, the sky gathered whole into its fall.

Down it came. The recoil of that descent split the earth into a spider's web, and the wind ran backward, so the rubble of the ground lifted and hung in the air.

"A heavy sword. Not a bad answer, under ordinary circumstances..."

A heavy sword that gave shape to the abstract weight of heaven was one of the ideals every master of the blade pursued, one of the ends their art was meant to reach. To drag the sky—something a man could only look up at—down beneath his own feet and wield it as he pleased: that was the realm. The evil spirit's sword had not yet ripened into it, but the reproduction had already succeeded. To contain the thing completely would be nothing more than a matter of time.

If Warrior or Asura had seen this, they'd have died of joy.

Another One thought of those battle-drunk subordinates of his and reset his grip.

Thoom. Thoom. Thoom. The sword shuddered like a heartbeat. The blessed little menace started thrashing again, and Another One crushed it flat with raw strength before swinging up.

Boom.

An ordinary rising cut. No art in it, and no depth—a simple form even a beginner could copy, an act too shabby for the stature of the man who made it. A hundred witnesses out of a hundred would have shaken their heads. What Another One was doing amounted to suicide. The picture drew itself: the pillar of a blade bursting apart, and Another One mashed flat as a burger patty.

And yet—

The impact landed, and it did not break. The sky bore down, and still the greatsword held its ground. No. It drove the sky back.

"A heavy sword overwhelms. It is heavy, and it is not easily stopped."

Their eyes drew level. The sky was forced to set a foot upon the earth.

Another One went on, perfectly calm.

"But before this sword, it is useless."

The greatsword let loose the momentum it had been swallowing all this while. A roar tore out of it, and cracks ran through a heaven made by human hands.

An overwhelming hegemonic force swept the field. He had come down upon a peninsula ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠barely worth the name: the strongest and most dreadful general the ages would never produce again, the great Hegemon-King who conquered the world two years after raising his banners.

Crash. It broke a human being's pathetic imitation.

Driven back by Hegemony, the evil spirit was torn to shreds and flung away. Armor wrought of rage and hatred proved flimsier than paper. A demon's power could not stand before a true demon. Tattered red energy spread like blood.

In a single exchange, the evil spirit fell.

Another One did not pursue. A hegemon-king does not give chase.

"Hah. A hegemon-king indeed."

He planted the Overlord Sword carelessly in the dirt, and that alone raised an earthquake.

"Tsk. Stay still."

Another One rapped the Overlord Sword across the head with his knuckle. The quake sank away as if it had never been.

"It's over now. Won't you let me out, Pele?"

Outside the sealed space, Pele chewed her lip and gave no answer.

"Didn't you hear me? Let me out. Before I walk out on my own."

The barrier came undone. Perspective pulsed, contracting and expanding, until at last it overlapped the original reality and settled back into place. Pele moved to the fallen Sword's side.

By no stretch of flattery was he in good shape. Thread-fine lines covered his whole body, as if he had been put through a blender, and black blood poured without end from the wounds. Hegemonic energy spread through him like poison. His skin dried, roughened, and died. All of it from a single blow.

Sword's body went up in red, as though he were being burned at the stake. He flinched. Flinced again. Pain flooded his face, but the wounds slowly knit closed.

"Not dead? Good. I was worried you'd die of being ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weak."

"You mocking me?"

"I'm stating a fact."

"Rotten bastard."

Pele spat the curse and tuned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him out. There was nothing to be gained by talking to that thing. The more words they traded, the hotter her temper would burn.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

Phantom appeared, as if he had been waiting for precisely that moment.

"A decent enough game. Alexei kept up, more or less. Of course, the moment I put a little strength into it, he went straight down."

"Did you have to use the Overlord Sword? You know perfectly well whose it was. Something plainer would do. A pair of old swords, say."

"Among greatswords, nothing else compares. Finicky to handle, but the performance is certain. And a pair of swords—please. My ears are not the Buddha's."

"Setting aside the discovery that you even have ears, the job is done, so let's make a deal."

"Hm?"

Another One blinked at the sudden offer. A few seconds later, he had the situation in hand.

"This is... interesting."

What fascinated him was Dan Chuyeon, of whom only half a body remained.

"An offering of one's existence, paid out for a bargain with Nature... How is that even possible? Was he special from birth?"

"Easy, easy. That's enough curiosity. You can see how things stand, so you know what I'm asking."

Another One looked at the Stone of Resurrection in Phantom's hand.

"You want me to bring the father and son back with that?"

"Yes. If it's you, you can."

"I can. A hundred times over, and it still wouldn't be a problem."

At the sound of that confidence, Pele's eyes flew wide.

"...The Child of Nature offered up his existence. And you can just wave that away?"

Dan Chuyeon had staked his very being. He had paid the world a price far greater than death. If the world took him, he would be nowhere to be found in past, present, or future—only the bare result that such a person had existed, while the process vanished entire and even his name went unremembered. It was a bargain like a curse, one that even she, a goddess, could not escape.

"The Stone of Resurrection is a far higher substance, so it's fine. A trifling contract like that can be torn up without any trouble."

"...What did you say?"

A substance above the world itself? Pele knew, by instinct, that she had drawn near a terrible truth. She did not ask.

"Sharp, as expected of a goddess. Anyone else would have blurted the question out."

Another One wore a faint, peculiar smile.

"Stop toying with us and finish it before the boy's mother wakes. If she opens her eyes and sees her husband and child dead, she'll faint on the spot."

"Do not rush me. This is a transaction, is it not?"

If something went out, something had to come back.

"In exchange for saving the father and son, you will give me the Stone of Resurrection."

"...Hm."

The condition dropped the whole space into silence. Pele ground her teeth, and her eyes opened with a killing light. Hong Yumin, watching from a distance, went rigid with grief, and San-gun's fur stood on end. Only Sipsado and Kana observed the crisis in quiet.

Tok. Tok. Phantom tapped his mask with a fingertip.

"I'm afraid that would be difficult. Hand you the Stone of Resurrection, and things become a real headache."

"Then this conversation never happened."

"You ought to hear a man out to the end."

Phantom stroked the mask once.

"Haa... Let's use something other than the Stone. I'll put up a thing you can't refuse."

"And what is that?"

"This world's Origin. I'll tell you your ending."

Another One's silence stretched, unusually long. He stood as if time itself had stopped, and only after a great while did he open his mouth.

"Well, now. That, I cannot refuse."

He let out a hollow laugh and pressed a hand to his head, like a man who had taken a clean hit.

"Hand it over."

He took the necklace from Phantom, closer to snatching it than receiving it.

A deep hum answered him. Life reacted with violent force, thrashing madly in his hand and fighting to get free.

"Annoying."

Another One shattered the necklace and crushed Life in his grip until it broke. Life went silent.

"It has been a long time since I handled this."

He came to stand before Dan Chuyeon's eyes.

"H-hello..."

Before an existence of darkness he could not even perceive, Dan Chuyeon drew his neck in.

"A pleasure, Dan Chuyeon."

"...Are you going to save me and my dad?"

"So it would seem."

The final boss and the protagonist traded a short greeting. Dan Miryu was laid down beside Dan Chuyeon.

"Begin."

"Very well."

Another One caught the Stone of Resurrection between his fingers as if it were nothing at all.

Life ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠overflowed. A clarity so vast it smothered came driving in, and Dan Chuyeon felt a gentle warmth close around his body. The erasure of his existence came to a halt.

"Ah..."

Dan Chuyeon's vision washed white.

Crackle. Crackle. Two men sat around a burning campfire.

"Looks like someone came looking for you."

"...Chuyeon came all the way here?"

"Yeah. His dad wouldn't come, so the boy ran here himself. I told you not to sit around—go back already."

A man beautiful enough to be mistaken for a woman was taking a man built like a mountain to task.

"...My business here is finished."

"Finished, my ass. Save the chatter and go. Want me to hit you on the way out?"

Dan Mihyeong hauled Dan Miryu forcibly to his feet.

"It's a shame. I finally see my brother after all this time."

"One look at my face is plenty."

Far off, Dan Miryu found his son glancing this way and that.

"Go. And don't come next time."

"...What are you going to do, Brother?"

"Who can say..."

Dan Mihyeong turned the other way.

"I think I'll go have a look at this child of mine I don't even know."

"...You really don't know the child?"

"I was a virgin until the day I died."

Dan Mihyeong walked on without a backward glance. Dan Miryu took that lonely back into his eyes one last time, and then he moved. The brothers shared their final farewell, and parted.

One side was bright. The other was dark.

Life and death divided.

And the one who had to return—returned.