Eternal Bonds of the Past - 3
The bizarre sight of my king, the phoenix, dying right before my eyes—and her body crumbling to dust and vanishing. No wonder Kkieak's wailing showed no signs of stopping.
"Kkieak. What on earth happened?"
Even Jwa Do-eosa and Taegyeok Geomgong, who were patrolling around the tomb, came rushing over with Hyun-seung. How thunderously must she have been shrieking, how grievously lamenting, for Hyun-seung to react to the sound?
I might end up shedding tears myself at this rate.
How the hell do I comfort her?
Logically speaking, the phoenix's death was regrettable but not something to grieve over like this. The Four Auspicious Beasts and Four Evils were beings that died and revived repeatedly anyway. Her death was no different from a brief business trip to some far-off place.
That's why I, a mere human, could remain calm about the phoenix's passing. But I had no idea how to convey that to Kkieak.
Telling a grieving subject whose king had fallen, "Your king will resurrect anyway, so it's fine," might make her start devouring poison again. Just imagining it was terrifying. If Kkieak truly awakened as a genuine poison bird, the whole of Kaepyeong would be turned upside down. Even the Shaolin elders would retreat back into the Repentance Cave.
—Kkieak, Kkiiiieeeeak...!
"There, there. If you've got sorrows, let them all out. The knots in your heart only unravel when you share them with someone."
At Hyun-seung's arrival, Kkieak fluttered her wings with eyes brimming with tears, and Hyun-seung kept soothing her.
He had no idea about Do-ol being in the tomb or the phoenix suddenly appearing. So he couldn't know why Kkieak was wailing. But his unconditional empathy and comfort visibly calmed her rage and sorrow bit by bit.
As expected. That must be what they call maturity. When comforting someone, mechanical empathy matters more than specific words.
I've learned something here.
The nickname Hyun-seung wasn't earned at the mahjong table, after all. To regulate even the heart of a beast that wasn't human—small wonder he's called the Wise One.
"Patron. Did something happen at the tomb, by any chance?"
Once Kkieak quieted down, Hyun-seung's gaze turned to me.
Something had happened, alright. The problem was it was too awkward to explain.
"Well—"
"There was some foul aura in the tomb. It must've clashed badly with Kkieak, leaving her quite upset."
Before I knew it, Grandfather had sidled up beside me and spoken on my behalf. He even patted my shoulder, as if silently saying to leave the troublesome stuff to him.
I was touched. This was usually my role. But with someone of far higher status and age stepping in, it was a relief in every sense.
"In that case, is the excavation proceeding without issues?"
"Ah, the excavation wrapped up successfully. This is the martial arts manual of the Western Chu Overlord."
When Grandfather pulled a bamboo slip from his bosom, awe and admiration flickered across Hyun-seung's face. Even as a monk, Hyun-seung was a martial artist. It was only natural he'd be intrigued by the manual of the Western Chu Overlord, whom one could call the greatest of all time without exaggeration.
"It's called Hangga Swordsmanship and Hangga Mind Method. Simple, isn't it?"
"Unexpectedly so, my lord. I figured it'd have a more flamboyant, grandiose name."
I nodded unwittingly at Hyun-seung's words. I'd felt the same curiosity the moment I saw the name.
Honestly, for the Western Chu Overlord's techniques, I'd expected something flashy like Reverse Hurricane Roaring Air Skill or Overlord God Sword. Who could've guessed it'd be such plain, straightforward names as Hangga Swordsmanship or Hangga Mind Method?
But in a way, it was the most confident naming possible. No need for embellishment since it was his own art—no dressing up required when even a simple name could topple the world. That was the Western Chu Overlord's self-assurance.
In a sense, it's a name brimming with pedigree.
The renowned martial house of Chu's Hang family. A technique passed down through generations there—what name could be more assured? What mattered was the substance, not the shell. And Hangga Swordsmanship and Hangga Mind Method were top-tier even in the Central Plains, so no need to fuss over the name.
"However, Your Highness. I'm no expert in the script of your era, but the handwriting is... quite messy."
"Can't be helped. It's not something the Western Chu Overlord wrote himself—it's what the King of Huainan jotted down from watching over his shoulder. Scribbled in haste, so it's a mess."
Hyun-seung nodded in understanding.
Right. This manual wasn't penned directly by the Western Chu Overlord or an original handed down in the Hang family. It was a copy made by the King of Huainan, once his subordinate, who observed the Overlord's arts firsthand.
... Is that even possible?
Now that I thought about it, it was bizarre. Recording a technique passed down directly from a master was hard enough—yet he'd documented it just from watching on the sidelines? How the hell did he manage that?
When I read the King of Huainan's last words, I'd been so mesmerized by mentions of the Western Chu Overlord's tomb and arts that I hadn't registered it. But to grasp a technique just by watching—that was an insane talent, wasn't it? Was the King of Huainan a victim overshadowed by the era's once-in-a-lifetime warrior?
And the Western Chu Overlord who let such a subordinate slip away...
His tolerance for talent was truly wondrous. He drove his sole strategist to death by frustration with illness, let his own uncle collude with enemies, and alienated geniuses like Han Xin and the King of Huainan. A super first-rate as a warrior, but third-rate as a leader... Truly awe-inspiring.
For now, we'd moved the grave goods to the nearest clearing. The King of Huainan had said only the Overlord's arts and a few weapons were in the tomb, but opening it revealed all sorts of treasures. A pleasant deception, so we happily hauled them out. Well, the soldiers did the hauling—I just watched idly.
"Don't slack on vigilance, but avoid being overly aggressive with the martial artists. Most will be satisfied just watching."
"Understood, Your Highness."
Dong-gu Wang, watching the grave goods pile up steadily, busied himself tightening security.
As the tomb was found in Zhejiang, he was the nominal head of this excavation. Everyone knew Grandfather was the real boss—me included—but nominally, it was Dong-gu Wang. Thanks to that, the king title had him scurrying about. A heartbreaking sight that choked anyone watching.
"My lord. Shall I help—"
"Stay put by my side. You've done your duty coming to Zhejiang on the eve of your wedding—no need to handle menial tasks too."
In the midst of it, I stopped Jo Wi-cheo from joining the haul. Dong-gu Wang's and Gu Gangwang's soldiers were swarming anyway, so manpower wasn't short, and Jo Wi-cheo held the invincible title of "groom-to-be." He hadn't even needed to come from Kaepyeong to here. I still wondered how he'd convinced the elders of the Jo and Jeong families, but now that he was here, sightseeing diligently and heading back would suffice. Like a field trip.
"Besides, if the Inspector Escort sticks by the soldiers, they'll tense up. Stay here and move if something pops up."
"Very well."
Only then did Jo Wi-cheo, who'd been standing awkwardly, sit back down.
An odd feeling. Sitting side by side like this took me back to our Central Plains pilgrimage days.
Not the most pleasant nostalgia.
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, my lord."
"A preemptive gift. Use it wherever you see fit."
While staring blankly at the soldiers, I handed him the small box I'd tucked in my bosom.
"My lord. This is...?"
"Elixir. The spirit beasts made the excavation a breeze and gave me a few. I've got plenty more, so take it without worry."
"I'm fine, my lord. I've already received so much from you—how could I shamelessly—"
"If it's too much for you, give it to your bride-to-be."
Mentioning his fiancée made Jo Wi-cheo's shoulders twitch. Not for his own sake, but to use for his future wife. Refusing that would weigh heavy on his conscience. It'd feel like being a neglectful head of household before even marrying. Jo Wi-cheo wouldn't want that.
"I'll gratefully accept."
"Good."
With that, both he and I resumed blankly watching the soldiers.
Nothing to do, body at ease—but boredom creeping in from idleness. Didn't want to volunteer for work, but sitting forever was dull. A vicious cycle.
"By the way, my lord. About that thing in the tomb."
"Do-ol? Why bring him up?"
"Shouldn't we investigate why it was there?"
At Jo Wi-cheo's words, I rubbed my nape subtly.
I'd thought of that too. One of the Four Evils in the vast Central Plains, of all places, inside the Western Chu Overlord's tomb. Unless the tomb builders sacrificed a passing Do-ol, there had to be a reason.
That's why I'd planned to grill Do-ol thoroughly—uncover his link to the Overlord, the mechanics of the Evils' resurrections.
But he croaked.
Never expected mutual destruction with the phoenix. Pathetically frail. Or was he? Surviving a beating from four Hwagyeong masters and taking down an Auspicious Beast? That's strength.
Just hope he doesn't revive somewhere inconvenient.
It troubled me even more. A powerhouse like Do-ol popping up oddly would be a hassle. Sure, freshly revived Evils like the qilin or Do-cheol were pathetic, but imagining a vengeful Do-ol haunting the Central Plains somewhere... Shiver.
Hopefully the phoenix kept him in check properly.
Should I summon Do-cheol?
I even considered that. Call Do-cheol from the palace briefly, let him tour Do-ol's haunt. As fellow Evils, he might know why Do-ol lingered in the tomb.
"Un, take a look at this."
Mid-haul of the grave goods, a swift messenger pigeon from Kaepyeong arrived. Grandfather, chuckling at the letter it bore, showed it to me too.
Phoenix and Do-ol, revived in Gonghuwon.
Ah.
I couldn't help but chuckle upon seeing the letter myself.
Looked like no need to summon Do-cheol after all.