Last Dance (Final) - 5
Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, back from their excursion, had buried their heads in plates of dongpo pork and were inhaling it like there was no tomorrow. It was as if they were making up for all the fasting they'd done voluntarily—and ended just as voluntarily. Sure, it was a bit capricious, but it beat them refusing food out of spite. Please, from now on, just eat whatever you want and forget about fasting.
It's not just the two sa-hung that showed up. Stroking the necks of Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, who showed no sign of lifting their heads, I let out a sigh of relief. They'd been bristling with disgust and anger at Do-cheol's traces before. But now, the new beast's signs had calmed them down, which meant—at the very least—that this newcomer wasn't some vicious, ugly monster like Do-cheol. High chance it was a beast with pure, auspicious energy. Or maybe one of those mythical beings on par with the sa-hung.
The sa-ryeong? The Four Auspicious Beasts: qilin, fenghuang, spirit turtle, and azure dragon. Sometimes called the Four Perfected Beasts, they were mystical creatures of legend. For such noble beasts to appear out of nowhere was sudden and unlikely. But ever since the sa-hung showed up, nothing would surprise me anymore. Hell, it was a miracle the sa-sin hadn't crashed the party. The sa-sin transcended mere beasts or spirit creatures—they were gods in the flesh...
Do-cheol's a god too, isn't he? That bastard Do-cheol was divine bloodline from the line of Shennong. What now? Should I pray the new guy's a sa-sin instead of sa-ryeong? Nah, the sa-ryeong were mythical too, so broadly speaking, gods as well.
A clash of gods. The thought made my chest swell with grandeur. A divine showdown in the southern fringes of the Central Plains.
And I get to witness this at the tail end of my schedule. Tears welled up at the once-in-a-lifetime honor. An honor I could do without.
Hm? I was seriously debating bolting right then when a familiar, powerful aura approached from the north. For anyone of Giwangga blood, it was unforgettable—the most comforting presence in the world. My heart eased instantly. I'd believed in it. I'd trusted that if I asked indirectly, he'd come for sure.
- Kki-ing?
- Kki-ong?
Even Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, midway through merging with their dongpo pork, sensed it and peeked up.
"Un-a! Your old grandpa's here!"
Soon, a booming voice echoed loud enough to reach inside the inn. The kind of proclamation that announced a king's procession to the whole city. Normally exasperating, today it was pure joy. Thank you for coming, my revered grandfather...
The inn turned into a meeting square overnight. Thanks to Grandfather's thunderous shout, Gyeirim's officials learned of his arrival—and he'd kindly specified "Un-a," so they all rushed to my inn. Standing in for Pojeongsa: the vice prefect. For Anchal-sa: the deputy envoy. For Dojihwisa: the assistant commander. A glittering, overcrowded lineup if there ever was one.
"Well now. I just came to see my grandson's face, and here come all you busy officials flocking in."
Grandfather burst into laughter at the sight, welcoming them. Even I, his grandson, knew that sounded insincere, so I averted my eyes. If he'd really just come for my face, he wouldn't have roared like a lion. No official could ignore a bellow like that without looking disloyal.
"Your Highness, how can you say that? Nothing matters more than attending to you."
The top-ranking assistant commander, stuck handling Grandfather, bowed deeply and responded politely. Poor guy. Already headache-deep in Do-cheol traces and whatever new ones had cropped up. Now Giwang himself descends—scarier than Do-cheol. Silver lining: with a Hwa-gyeong master here, even Do-cheol popping out wouldn't be scary.
"Heh heh, glad to hear it."
Grandfather nodded, pleased, chugged from his flask, then turned to Ak I-yeon beside me.
"My grandson's bride. Sorry it's just your old grandpa-in-law. Meant to bring your grandpa too, but he flat-out refused—said he couldn't leave Kaepyeong. You ain't too miffed, are ya?"
The officials shivered at that. One slip, and both Ilja Kings would've descended.
"No, Your Highness. Seeing you is joy enough—how could I feel slighted?"
"Talk like that hurts this old man's feelings. None of that 'Your Highness' stiffness. Call me Grandpa-in-law."
Ak I-yeon smiled shyly at the scolding. It felt like normal family chat—heartwarming. If only the officials weren't backdrop.
"By the way, Assistant Commander."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Heard some strange beast's been around Gyeirim lately?"
"Yes, but no loss of life or property, so we're conducting careful searches rather than rash pursuits—"
"I'll check it out myself."
"...Pardon?"
Impudent to question an Ilja King, but I got his shock and pretended not to hear.
"I'm curious what beast it is myself. Came all the way from Kaepyeong just to see its face, so don't stress."
Words that screamed stress. The assistant commander's eyes twitched wildly.
"Un-a."
"Yes, Grandfather."
"Whoever that beast is, wrap it up quick and head home. Gotta get back to Kaepyeong for the wedding."
My heart skipped. Return to Kaepyeong and wedding—two thrilling words in one sentence.
"Thank you for your consideration."
"Consideration? I'm doing this for me."
Grandfather patted my shoulder and strode out. My pulse raced for a whole new reason. Imagining the headache culprit getting squashed by Grandfather brought a grin. Do-cheol, you bastard. Sa-hung or not, a determined Hwa-gyeong master would end you. No vanishing with traces this time.
Mythical beings should stay in myths. Don't crawl into the human world. Divine bloodline or whatever.
Do-cheol's hunt hit snags, fittingly. When an Ilja King declares he wants to see it, Hwa-gyeong Grandfather leads the search, and Gyeirim troops comb every inch at 120%. Still, no Do-cheol. Where the hell was it hiding?
"No aura at all. Even dogs and chickens have some if alive, but these beasts? Nothing."
Grandfather stroked his beard at the forest traces of Do-cheol and sa-ryeong (presumed). Hwa-gyeong senses were art no chojeoljeong could mimic. Hyperbole: not even an ant in Gyeirim or a rat in the alleys escaped him. But these two did. Do-cheol and its foe slipped his net.
Beyond even Hwa-gyeong? Tricky. Called him for safety, but if he can't handle Do-cheol, I'm the unfilial grandson dragging him to doom. Still, Hwa-gyeong dignity says he'll win. Unless "immune to human physics," Do-cheol dies to Hwa-gyeong beatdown like anyone.
"Grandfather, let's head back to the inn for a meal at least—"
"Nah. Think I'll go later."
"Pardon?"
His eyes sharpened as he stroked his beard.
- Kki-ing! Kki-i-ing!
- Kki-o-o-ong!
Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i circling us cried out fiercely.
It's here. Master and spirit beasts reacting together. Do-cheol's aura, obviously—I gripped my sword hilt instinctively.
"Two of 'em. Together, looks like."
With that, Grandfather grabbed me and slung me over his shoulder like luggage.
"Grandfather?"
"Might get dizzy, but bear it."
"No, I can walk on my oooown!"
Before I finished, he stepped into the sky. Passenger-blind reckless flying nearly spun my head off.
"There."
His wild flight ended fast, landing us in a remote grove. What the... A bizarre sight unfolded.
- Krraaang!
- Gi-ri-ring!
A sheep-like beast clashing with a deer-like one. The sheep: jet-black fur, blood-red eyes. The deer: rainbow hues swirling.
Sheep. Legends say Do-cheol has a sheep's body and horns. Some mention a human face, but this one's pure sheep—though the vicious aura screamed Do-cheol from afar.
Deer. Rival to sa-hung? Qilin fits. Legends match: iridescent fur, flesh-covered horns.
Do-cheol vs. qilin. Sa-hung vs. sa-ryeong. Mythic brawl. Humans should flee at sight, but no intimidation here.
They're so tiny. Both pint-sized, barely bigger than Buong-i. Pathetic.
- Gi-ring!
They're really going at it. Qilin stomped Do-cheol with hooves, battered with horns—fierce.
Odd. Legends say qilin never harms life, not even stepping on grass or bugs. Gentle saint. But this? Pure venom, stomping Do-cheol with glee.
"Leave 'em be, black one's winning."
"Pardon?"
Grandfather's words yanked a reflex question. Do-cheol winning? It was getting one-sidedly pummeled.
"Watch close. Flashy one's pressing, but black takes no real hits. Blood on black's horn? Flashy's the one hurting."
"Then that's..."
"Last gasp before collapse. Death throes."
Expert insight flipped the view. True enough. Qilin foamed at the mouth in frenzy, but Do-cheol shrugged it off unscathed.
Qilin's gonna die at this rate.
...Wait.
Die? Imagining qilin slain by Do-cheol chilled my spine. Live qilin: good omen. Dead: ill. Confucius saw a qilin corpse and died two years later. Witnessing its murder by sa-hung? Beyond omen—curse central.
"Hey, you bastard!"
- Kruung?
- Gi-ri-ring?
I bolted forward unthinking. This damn sa-hung spreading area curses to who?!