Scars That Run Deep (1)
In an instant, the darkness that had scattered throughout the Great Cavity and the Abyss that had boiled up in every corner were wiped away without a trace. The forest regained its original, brilliant natural colors, and I thought that perhaps this matter had ended well after all.
The shrine and the annex were still a complete mess… but because of it, the seal on the Abyss had grown even stronger. A small loss for a great gain, perhaps?
When I thought about it, the incident had been extraordinarily dangerous. It wasn’t simply a question of the Great Cavity’s safety—if things had gone wrong, the seal could have shattered completely, allowing the entire world to be consumed by the Abyss. Just as the nameless god Hvedrungr had warned, it was something we could not afford to treat lightly. Had the events unfolded without her warning, the situation might truly have spiraled into the worst possible outcome.
To that extent, I believed that single flicker of caution, that one mindset, had decided the ending of this entire affair.
What happened to Lee Seha was deeply regrettable. Having lost her entire family from a young age wasn’t enough; even the father she cherished so much turned out to be false. The love she had longed for her whole life had all been lies, and even her own upbringing had never been for her sake. In the end, it had all been cultivation for a new vessel of the Abyss.
Yet even so, at the end of that painful rearing, she received recompense. Though what remained for her was only a half-hearted reward with nothing else left, Lee Seha’s condition had improved dramatically compared to our first meeting. She was still not fully recovered from the shock and remained somewhat haggard, but that was all.
The fortunate part was that after staying at the shrine for several days and living alongside us, Lee Seha was gradually recovering under Shinryong-nim’s devoted care.
Once the series of events concluded and the Abyss was sealed once more, the first thing Lee Seha did was apologize. She herself must have been confused, having only just learned the truth, yet she apologized for every harsh word and cruel treatment she had given us. She did so with complete sincerity, bowing deeply in a full kowtow.
She had never properly learned etiquette, so I wondered where she had picked this up. Shinryong-nim and I watched her, then gently helped her to her feet, telling her it was all right. We understood every reason behind it, so everything was fine now. We comforted her so that she, now left all alone, would not fall further into misery.
“...How is your body, Seha?”
Of course, I still did not want to forgive her. No matter what background she carried, she had recklessly touched my weakness, and to Shinryong-nim that was my reverse scale. I wanted to beat her half to death regardless of her past. And yet—
“It’s gotten much better…”
Even so, I was not so inhumane a spirit that I could ignore her.
From the moment she apologized, she showed the ideal she had clung to in her heart—the desire to move forward again despite everything. Eventually she stood up once more and began striving for the things she had never been able to obtain. In the end, I set aside my resentment and came to regard her, who had crossed the line between life and death with me, as both a comrade-in-arms and a dear friend.
While living together in the annex for several days under Shinryong-nim’s utmost care, Lee Seha and I frequently checked on each other’s conditions to monitor the aftereffects of Abyss erosion.
Considering she had only a human body, perhaps it was thanks to the extraordinary mental strength she had no choice but to possess. Aside from the erosion scar near her throat, her treatment ended with almost no major aftereffects—close to a full recovery. The same was true for me; aside from the mark left on my right arm, nearly everything had disappeared.
But I could still hear the voices.
From the sealed depths of the Abyss, they were still calling me. Those millions upon millions of voices.
Lee Seha said it had been quite some time since she stopped hearing them. Perhaps the true spirit had been Lee Seha all along. Or maybe not.
“····.”
I set down the tea for Lee Seha and Shinryong-nim, delivered a fresh hot cup to Lee Seha who was staying in the guest room, and then began drinking warm tea with Shinryong-nim in the kitchen.
“...Still, I’m glad she endured it well.”
Only then did Shinryong-nim speak the words she had held back in front of Lee Seha.
“It was an event that could have easily shattered her, yet she held onto that small hope and bore it splendidly.”
She still seemed lost in some worry, but she expressed relief at the sight of Lee Seha looking toward tomorrow. I stared at Shinryong-nim for a long time as she gazed down at her teacup with a faint, relieved smile.
“It is all thanks to you, Shinryong-nim.”
I smiled as well, remembering how Shinryong-nim had rescued a single lost soul from within the Abyss at the final moment.
“If you had not given her that chance, she would have… been broken beyond repair.”
At the same time, I closed my eyes, recalling both my own past and Shinryong-nim’s.
“If it had been me, the same thing would have happened.”
Perhaps Shinryong-nim wished to express that she felt the same. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them.
“Indeed….”
She let out a low sigh, as though hesitating. It seemed there was something Shinryong-nim had not told me. For a while she fidgeted, unable to stay still, her fingertips tapping restlessly against the teacup. Eventually she began avoiding my eyes with an uneasy expression.
Still, after some time, she seemed to find the resolve to speak.
“Niyu, the truth is….”
After much hesitation, she slowly began to tell me something.
But it was then.
The sound of quick, determined footsteps—thud, thud, thud—echoed at that exact moment. Lee Seha entered the kitchen with a confident stride, as if she had suddenly made up her mind about something. She carefully opened the door and called for Shinryong-nim.
“…Shinryong-nim, there is something I wish to say.”
Startled, I looked at her. I glared at her face for a moment, thinking she always had impeccable timing. Yet because she had rarely expressed her opinions before, I softened my expression and accepted her request.
Lee Seha, who in the past would have completely ignored the gaze of someone as weak as me, had changed greatly. She seemed somewhat intimidated by my stare, unlike before. Soon Shinryong-nim met my eyes, nodded, and walked out of the kitchen with me.
With eyes now filled with firm resolve, Lee Seha stood in the corridor to greet us. Shinryong-nim and I turned slowly to face her.
Lee Seha gazed at the pond for a moment, then began to speak, her face rather dark.
“Is it truly impossible… to completely seal the Great Cavity?”
Shinryong-nim stared at her. Lee Seha continued with her gaze lowered.
“Could we not strictly control all human entry and simply leave it as an ecological preservation zone…?”
She clasped her hands tightly, fingers interlaced, and pleaded with Shinryong-nim. Beads of hot sweat rolled down her cheeks. It was clear that she meant every word more sincerely than anything else.
“So that people like me… never, ever appear again… please help me, Shinryong-nim.”
Listening to Lee Seha, Shinryong-nim slipped her arms into the sleeves of her shaman robe and wagged her tail gently a few times. She must have realized that this was what she had been pondering so deeply while living with us.
After a long moment of contemplation—wondering how she should answer so that Lee Seha could accept it without further pain—Shinryong-nim slowly turned toward the pond, wrapped the tip of her tail around her ankle, and spoke firmly.
“That cannot come to pass.”
She explained why the Great Cavity had to remain open despite such tragic events occurring from time to time.
“However, I do not disagree with your heart… I, too, feel a great sense of responsibility that such things happen often.”
She spoke without any embellishment.
“Yet the reason we cannot close the Great Cavity is because doing so would also affect the seal upon the Abyss.”
She spoke of what it meant to be human, and what the Abyss truly was.
“Only the hearts accumulated by the countless people who come and go through the forest can maintain and suppress the Abyss’s seal for a longer time.”
Lee Seha stared at Shinryong-nim for a while.
“The countless good and evil within the piled-up hearts of humans balance one another, forming yin and yang….”
Shinryong-nim took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and felt the yang energy that still circulated through this land without fail.
“Only when those innumerable human hearts and all their energies dwell within me can they become my divine power. Only then am I able to firmly lock the door of the Abyss sealed beyond the Boundary.”
She opened her eyes again and met Lee Seha’s gaze; the girl had been watching her at some point. Lee Seha’s expression darkened. She clutched her own arm, avoided Shinryong-nim’s eyes once more, and let out a sorrowful voice filled with the inescapable fate, suffering, grief, and despair—the knowledge that beings like herself would appear again someday.
“I’m sorry… I seem to have overstepped once more….”
Her heart badly broken by this incident, Lee Seha began desperately apologizing even during such a light conversation. The realization that it could not be completely prevented must have brought back those painful memories; her voice grew cold and she wilted completely, losing all vitality.
Shinryong-nim watched her for a moment, then looked at the girl whose head was bowed in distress. Finally she turned fully to face her again and spoke in a warm voice.
“But that does not mean I cannot help.”
So that the sorrow of one who had lived so long immersed in pain might subside. So that her suffering could be eased, even a little.
“Whenever a situation that requires it arises, we shall step forward to block the Abyss once more. And you… may come seek our help anytime.”
With a gentler, kinder voice than ever before, she embraced Lee Seha, who had seemed to have given up all hope.
“For that purpose, I—the gatekeeper—remain here always.”
Light began to shine from somewhere, rekindling life in Lee Seha’s eyes. For a long time she gazed at Shinryong-nim with eyes that sparkled as though deeply moved.
“If such a thing happens again someday, would it not be fine if Niyu and I resolve it as we did today?”
When Shinryong-nim looked at me and spoke, I imagined having to handle such difficult matters by ourselves again and shook my head vigorously in horror. But then—
“What? Are you saying you would leave me all alone?”
Hearing Shinryong-nim’s hurt tone, I nodded without hesitation, thinking that might actually be safer. Shinryong-nim stared at me with wounded, crescent-moon eyes for a long moment. Then, as if she had finished her joke for Lee Seha’s sake, she smiled faintly and tapped my arm with the wagging tip of her chubby tail.
Having regained her smile, Shinryong-nim turned to Lee Seha, who had been listening quietly beside us.
“Is that the end of your questions?”
Lee Seha hesitated, as though something more remained. She looked outside, fidgeting, then finally spoke.
“Th-thank you, Shinryong-nim….”
It seemed she had finally firmed her still-shaking heart. After conveying her gratitude, she continued carefully.
“And… there is one more thing I wish to say….”
She told us there was something else she wanted to convey. We watched her with gentle eyes. Then, when she said she would leave the shrine, both Shinryong-nim and I were momentarily shocked and asked whether she had anywhere to go.
Lee Seha’s expression grew resolute. She spoke in a strong voice, as if steeling her resolve.
“After I organize the house… something I want to do has come to me.”
She smiled brightly, revealing the beautiful face she had hidden behind her dark expression all this time. Her short hair swayed beautifully as she thanked us for saving her, caring for her, and comforting her sadness. Even though we had no reason to think well of her, she thanked us repeatedly for forgiving all her past rudeness.
Several hours later, she had packed all her belongings and prepared to leave. The luggage consisted only of the bag containing that false divine instrument and the spiritual energy of her mother that the Abyss had spoken of—an old, worn dagger. Yet now both the spiritual energy and even the bag had become precious to her.
“…Please be careful.”
Shinryong-nim saw her off with a worried voice as Lee Seha returned to the city. Despite everything she had endured, Lee Seha’s expression was clearly brighter than before. She looked at us with a face that seemed somehow relieved.
“No matter what happens, even if sad things occur again… I will always think of you both.”
Fortunately, Lee Seha’s smile did not collapse until the very moment she left.
“Whenever I remember you, you bring me hope… Both of you are my saviors.”
Therefore, as she waved and left the shrine, Lee Seha thought to herself:
In the end, nothing remained for her after this incident. Rather, everything she once possessed had been taken away; even what she had clutched tightly in her hands was gone. The only father she had left, her memories of family, the divine instrument passed down as an heirloom, even her own soul—everything had been stolen. In the end, it felt as though even her final desperate struggle to protect people like herself had been taken from her.
Yet she had not given up until the end. She could not give up. For the sake of what she had lost, for the sake of everything that had been taken, she could not stop. Even if she had to fabricate herself, even if she had to create a nonexistent self, this obsession could not cease. In the end she had reached the finish line as her fabricated self.
But to her, who had wanted to grasp love even by fabricating herself so thoroughly, nothing remained in the end. And yet because she was a self with nothing, she could fill herself with anything—countless loves and hearts. She could fill in even more of what had been lost.
Just as Shinryong-nim and Niyu had embraced her, she too wanted to become a warm and strong person from now on. She wanted to save people who had fallen into sorrow like herself, people who might fall into the Abyss. With these two hands, she wanted to save all such people.
So that she would not forget the warm hands of the parents she could no longer hold, so that she would not forget the warm embrace of the father she had been able to hold again at the end of her fabricated life, she placed her hand upon that embrace once more. To organize the painful, tormenting past and face the future, she would now move forward not as something fabricated, but by her own will. Further and further, toward people who suffered as she had.
Thus, the two of us quietly watched her back as she left without lingering regret. Wishing that all the days ahead of her would be bright and clear, we called forth the other presence that had been quietly erasing its existence beside us—the one that had hidden nearby and watched over everything.
“….Now that Seha has gone, reveal yourself.”
Shinryong-nim, who had been watching Lee Seha’s receding figure, spoke with her eyes closed before returning to the annex. From the shadow of a nearby tree, something slowly walked out. It gradually lifted the veil covering itself, revealing its face as it approached us.
I, who had not sensed its presence at all and was beginning to feel flustered, called out her name the moment I saw her.
“…Hvedrungr.”
She tilted her head with a casual smile. Unlike our first meeting when she had been terrified, she grinned brightly.
“Caught me. As expected of the Divine Dragon.”
I stared at Hvedrungr’s playful demeanor in a daze. Wondering why she was still here, I watched her. Shinryong-nim slowly opened her closed eyes, met Hvedrungr’s gaze, and smiled faintly. She continued the conversation with the one who had never left this place from beginning to end.
“From the moment you introduced yourself as a prophet from the outskirts, I had some idea… As the rumors say, you truly are the God of Lies.”
Hvedrungr’s playfully swaying body froze for an instant at the name. She seemed flustered by Shinryong-nim’s sharp gaze, but soon regained her mischievous smile and shook her pretty face.
“I personally prefer the name God of Pranks over God of Lies~”
She raised both hands playfully, making a naughty expression as if to say such popularity was truly bothersome. Shinryong-nim, who had been watching her with a faint smile, slowly erased it and hardened her face.
“You have been helping Seha all this time.”
As if she no longer wished to exchange pleasantries, she revealed what had been veiled until now. Hvedrungr, who had known she could no longer hide once her presence was detected, made an expression of resignation and began avoiding her gaze.
“Seha, who was alone since childhood, so that she would not stray, you gave her the best help from unseen places. You always watched over her so that the girl could yearn for the right kind of love—the guardian deity Hvedrungr.”
Shinryong-nim began to lay bare all the hesitating girl’s deeds.
“From the prophecy onward, even when I was bound to the city and could not return to the Great Cavity, you used your clone to block all eight seals together with the soldiers of Chang-eun.”
She stared piercingly into Hvedrungr’s eyes, which had begun to form a smile full of discomfort and heavily shadowed.
“Even when Niyu was eroded by the Abyss and could not fully maintain her reason, you continued to protect Seha.”
When I recalled that I had not sensed her presence at the time and looked at Hvedrungr with even greater puzzlement, she waved her hands as if fed up.
“Enough, enough. That’s plenty now….”
As if she was unused to having all her good deeds exposed, she soon covered her somewhat reddened face with her palms. Shinryong-nim gazed at her with somewhat pleased eyes and left one final remark.
“I am curious how the God of Lies, who has toyed with the world her entire life, came to harbor such affection for humans.”
Hvedrungr, the God of Lies, looked back and forth between Shinryong-nim and me for a long time. Then she turned her gaze in the direction Seha had gone, brought it back to us, and spoke.
“I owed her a life.”
She told us. Long ago, when Lee Seha’s mother was still alive. She revealed that on that day, Lee Seha’s mother had not originally been fated to die.
“She died because of me, that human.”
On that day, Lee Seha’s mother had only intended to check the Abyss seal and greet Shinryong-nim. If nothing had happened, she would have met Shinryong-nim, spoken about the seal, and shared stories of hunting the Abyss. But at the moment she confirmed the seal, she encountered the God of Lies, who had been trapped by the Abyss and was being eroded there.
The mother, discovering the God of Lies being eroded along with the Abyss beneath the crushing seal, dismantled the seal herself to save her. She separated her from the Abyss, handed over a treasure containing immense spiritual power capable of removing all erosion, and sacrificed her own life to reconnect the seal of that place, which had barely been maintained by binding the God of Lies there.
Accordingly, the God of Lies realized that the treasure she had received that day was actually the final bastion Lee Seha’s mother had accumulated over the years to oppose the Abyss. Moved by the will of one who had sacrificed even her life and the hope for her descendants, she had thrown away the life that had only chased amusement in order to repay that grace. Following the last words the mother left behind, she became the guardian of the girl who would be left alone with her father in the city. She told us the entire story.
“No matter how much it is me, I am not so false a god as to brush off a life-saving grace as a mere joke~”
The God of Lies smiled with that beautiful face and swayed her long black hair. She turned her body toward us and looked in the direction Seha had gone. Moved by the God of Lies’ devoted repayment, Shinryong-nim spoke quietly, as if expressing gratitude on Seha’s behalf.
“Even so, to go so far as to borrow her father’s appearance at that final moment and act—that cannot have been an easy choice… You are impressive.”
Only after hearing those words did I realize that the soul who had appeared with the beam of light at the last moment of the seal was not the real father, but the God of Lies. Overwhelmed by the shocking realization that struck the back of my head, I could only stare at the God of Lies with wide eyes.
In response to my reaction, the God of Lies turned her head slightly toward us, gave a sidelong glance, and with a very playful smile revealed her true heart.
“Well, in the end I was half a mother, too.”
After giving that small-voiced answer, the God of Lies continued.
“…Thank you. For saving Seha. Both of you.”
Her voice grew even smaller, as if her heart was trembling. After adding those words, she looked up at the sky for a while, as though trying to hide her face from us. Then, as if she had calmed down, she looked back at us once more. On the God of Lies’ face was a serious expression that was very rare to see.
She conveyed words filled with sincerity.
“If you two had not risked your lives to help, I would not have been able to pull Seha out of that pit alone.”
When Niyu and Shinryong-nim faced her and began listening attentively to her story, she continued.
“In the end, I too would have been devoured and that would have been the finish….”
She made a dark expression, as if imagining the worst moments that might truly have occurred along with everything she had experienced so far. To the God of Lies, who was uttering only words without a trace of falsehood—unlike her usual self—Shinryong-nim spoke again, emphasizing her point.
“That is precisely why we are always guarding this place. Today, you are not acting like the God of Lies at all.”
And so we came to realize that the reason she was behaving in a manner unfitting for her name was because Lee Seha—the daughter of the benefactor to whom she owed her life—was that precious an existence to her. What had begun as an effort to repay a debt of gratitude had, in the end, dug its way into the deepest part of her heart. We respected the nobility of the one who had ultimately decided to become a guardian deity for her, even setting aside the fate of lies and pranks.
“Then return quickly now, God of Lies.”
Shinryong-nim spoke to the God of Lies, who had been in a daze, quite moved, while meeting our eyes.
“If you leave your seat for so long, that child will surely feel lonely.”
The God of Lies smiled faintly, as if truly touched by Shinryong-nim’s words, and slowly approached her.
“…Thank you, Divine Dragon.”
Wishing to repay the grace she had received, she took Shinryong-nim’s hands. As the prophet from the outskirts, she said she would leave one final prophecy as a sign of gratitude. We watched her carefully and soon heard it from her lips.
“———You two, no matter what happens in the future, will have to part ways for each other’s fates.”
The fate that we could never remain together. The prophecy that began to divine such a fate.
“What is that…”
I was momentarily shocked and could only watch her blankly. Shinryong-nim must have felt similarly; she simply stared at the one holding her hands without saying a word. Seeing our reactions, the God of Lies soon burst into playful laughter and shouted in a mischievous voice.
“Just~ kidding❤”
She quickly pulled away from us, pressed her fingertips to her lips in a seductive gesture, and declared that the prophecy had been a joke. She said she would now leave to go to Seha. Unable to keep up with the God of Lies’ prank, we waved our hands in a daze to send her off. She melted into the shadow lying across the path and disappeared.
The two of us, still in a daze as we stared at the spot where she had vanished, instinctively understood that although she had brushed it off as a joke, her prophecy was not truly a lie. We had already tasted its impact once before.
“…Shall we go inside, Shinryong-nim?”
I felt tense.
“…Yes.”
What kind of trials awaited us in our fates from now on….
I could only close my mouth.