Nightmare
I spoke calmly, as if nothing had happened, and started walking again.
Seoa took my hand in silence and followed.
All that remained in the place we left behind was the reek of urine and the pitiful wrecks of the thugs sprawled across the ground.
When we stepped back into the market proper, the attitudes of the surrounding merchants and customers had changed in a way you could feel. The vague fear and curiosity from before had given way to awe, and even a kind of respect. A few merchants came up to ask if we were all right or to apologize on behalf of the thugs for their rudeness. And every time we bought something, they quietly selected better goods or threw in an extra handful as a freebie.
"Aigoo, Sword Demon elder! This is on the house! Just take it!"
"Your lady is so lovely. You two look wonderful together."
Seoa smiled, a little embarrassed by the flood of kindness and compliments, and offered her thanks. I simply nodded, face still blank. It was still a nuisance… but I decided it wasn't bad. At least the open hostility and the ugly stares were gone. In their place I felt a quiet goodwill and respect. It was the result of crushing them with force, true—but this was how I lived, and maybe it was also the process of adapting to ordinary life.
I walked in silence at Seoa's side, carrying the bags, and called back to mind the shopping list that the earlier scuffle had briefly scrambled. There were still things left to buy. An ordinary, thoroughly ordinary day. And now Seoa was part of that day. That alone made this bothersome, irritating world feel a little more livable.
Then an uncomfortable thought trailed after me: that the thugs' appearance might not have been simple chance. They had shown up far too conveniently to pick a fight; something about it felt staged. For the moment, though, I simply turned my steps toward the next shop Seoa pointed out.
The disturbance at the market had ended more anticlimactically than expected. No—it hadn't even been a disturbance. It was no more than sweeping a few pieces of filth off the road. Yet the bitter aftertaste of that brief friction refused to fade. Like wiping a floor with a half-dry rag, a sticky, unpleasant feeling clung to a corner of my chest. I could not shake the sense that those thugs had appeared far too timely—an unnaturalness as if someone had deliberately laid the board. There was no way to confirm it right now. I had not wanted to get tangled in bothersome business. Was peace simply not suited to me after all?
I forced the unpleasant thoughts aside and walked on in silence toward the next shop Seoa indicated.
"Taejun, that tofu shop over there is delicious. They make the soft tofu themselves, and eating it in the morning really fills you up."
Seoa chattered in a bright voice, as if nothing had happened. Even amid the market noise her voice sounded especially clear. She seemed already to have forgotten the rough scene from moments before; her eyes were fixed wholly on the shopping list. Was she strong, or simply used to it? Perhaps both. That side of her reassured me a little. At the same time, the determination not to expose her to another unpleasant situation like that rose hard inside me. Now that I had returned, I would not let her go through such things again.
We stopped at the tofu shop and bought warm soft tofu along with a few blocks of firm tofu, then took an armful of fresh-smelling greens from a grandmother selling vegetables. The basket grew heavy in no time, yet to me it was light as a feather. If anything, the weight made reality feel real, and that was not bad. It was the weight of ordinary life I had never known on the battlefield.
Seoa talked freely with the merchants, bargaining over prices and even coaxing extras out of them. Her sociability and practical competence were a far cry from the shy girl I only vaguely remembered from ten years ago. Left alone in an unfamiliar place, she must have had to harden herself—to look after my parents and survive in this rural village that could easily have been barren. Sensing the loneliness and weariness hidden behind her capable manner, I frowned without meaning to. The guilt of having left Seoa alone, of having failed to protect her, rose again and seeped through me.
By the time we finished shopping and started home, the sun had already tilted west and was pouring out a red sunset. The country road was quiet; only the regular sound of our two sets of footsteps carried. Seoa chattered about the things we had bought or told me small stories about the villagers. I listened, nodding now and then without much reply. Simply hearing her voice calmed my heart in a strange way. This peaceful sound, in place of the noise of the battlefield, was unfamiliar yet seeped into me whether I wanted it or not.
When we reached the house, Mother came out into the yard to welcome us warmly.
"Aigoo, my son, my Seoa. You must have worked hard shopping."
She took the lighter bags from Seoa first and patted her back. The gesture looked so natural it might have been something they had done for a long time. Seoa smiled affectionately at Mother and gave a brief account of the day at the market—omitting, of course, the unpleasant business with the thugs. I felt her consideration, but said nothing.
"Mother, the soft tofu is especially good today. I'll make a delicious stew for dinner."
"Yes, yes. Thanks to our Seoa I live in luxury every day."
Listening to their warm exchange, I silently carried the heavy bags into the kitchen. An unfamiliar yet warm scene. The place where I belonged, yet which I had left empty far too long. The fact that Seoa had been quietly holding that empty place struck me afresh and made my chest ache.
Dinner was simple but neat. The soft-tofu stew Seoa had made was smooth and savory; the freshly cooked rice gave off a rich fragrance. Mother kept adding side dishes to my bowl, and Father silently tilted his cup with a contented smile. An ordinary evening meal. Yet for me it was unfamiliar and awkward, and at the same time a moment I had desperately longed for. I ate in silence. After ten years of surviving on combat rations and energy bars, a warm home-cooked meal felt like luxury. Rather than savoring the taste, I tried to take in the peaceful atmosphere itself. Still, anxiety wriggled in a corner of my heart—the fear that this happiness might shatter at any moment, the doubt whether I even had the right to remain inside this peace. With Cheok Jun-gyeong's power inside me, could I truly melt into something so ordinary?
After the meal and the cleanup were finished, Seoa came over carefully and spoke.
"Taejun, you must be tired… Please go rest first. I'll do the dishes."
Her voice held consideration for me. I hesitated a moment, then nodded.
"All right."
The reply was short, yet tangled emotions mixed inside it—gratitude, apology, and the awkwardness that still had not faded. Unable to say anything more to her, I headed silently to my room.
I closed the door behind me and the familiar solitude washed in. Outside the window the world was already sunk in deep darkness; only the faint chirping of insects reached me. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked out for a while. Stars were densely studded across the black night sky—a peaceful sky utterly different from the bizarre, eerie light I had seen in the Soul World inside the Gate. Yet even that peaceful night sky felt threatening to my eyes. The anxiety that I might be dragged back into a hellish battlefield at any moment. I had gained Cheok Jun-gyeong's power, but that power was also a shackle binding me. As long as it existed, complete ordinariness might be impossible.
I want to live an ordinary life.
But even what "ordinary" meant had grown faint by now. Ten years had taken too much from me—how to feel emotions, how to form relationships with people, even how to fall asleep in peace.
Without changing clothes I simply lay down on the bed. The mattress was incomparably soft next to a hard military cot, yet my body still refused to release its tension. Knowing a nightmare would come the moment I closed my eyes, even sleep itself was frightening.
I do not know how much time passed. Tossing and turning as I forced myself toward sleep, I finally slipped into unconsciousness.
And, as always, hell arrived.
…Corpses.
Piles of them strewn in every direction. Horrific shapes with limbs hacked off, entrails spilling out. The stench of blood and burning flesh filled the air; ear-splitting explosions and screams never stopped.
"Kyaaaaak!"
"Save… me…!"
Familiar faces flashed past—comrades who had fought beside me, subordinates I had failed to protect. They stared at me with bloody tears, full of resentment.
Why… why did you abandon us, Sword Demon!
Only you survived… only you!
I reached out, but could not grasp them. I screamed, but no voice came. Wandering over the endless heaps of corpses, I sank deeper into despair. The shadows of giant monsters blotted out the sky; the eerie laughter of demonic beings rang in my ears.
"Kang Taejun… your end is here!"
A familiar yet hateful voice—the voice of Han Sangjin, who had betrayed me ten years ago. His slimy laughter echoed through the nightmare. No, this was no simple nightmare. It was far too vivid. Pain and terror that felt exactly like reality. Every muscle in my body twisted; my breath grew short. Cold sweat poured like rain and soaked me through. My heart hammered so hard it seemed ready to tear out of my chest. The more I struggled to escape, the more tenaciously the nightmare bound me.
"Keuk… huff… haa…!"
At last I woke with a scream. In the confusion of not knowing whether it was reality or dream, I gasped for air like a madman. My whole body was drenched in cold sweat; my heart still pounded violently. The room lay in pitch darkness, yet residual images of the nightmare still flickered before my eyes—blood and slaughter, screams and death, the loathsome scenes that had tormented me for ten years.
I sat up on the bed, raising my upper body. I roughly wiped the sweat running down my forehead with the back of my hand. I tried to suppress the tremor that shook deep into my lungs, but it was not easy. My fingertips trembled finely; my jaw chattered on its own.
Again… is it starting.
How long would this pain continue?