Chapter 34
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Opening of the Emerging Scholars' Academic Festival
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Year of the Wood Snake, five days after Grain Rain, at the hour of the rabbit.
Between 5 and 7 a.m.
The dawn of the day the Emerging Scholars' Academic Festival began.
As the sun rose, fog billowed from the sewers, veiling the sky.
Ensuring no one could spy on this place.
Ensuring no one could comprehend what would transpire here.
The thick fog spread, engulfing not only Suryeo Hall—where the festival would unfold—but the entire women's university and the surrounding roads before finally halting its expansion.
A little more time passed, and as students ate lunch around noontime, crows gathered like sentinels, perching throughout the campus.
Crows that did not caw, wind that had stilled, air that hung heavy.
Soon, an invisible barrier formed around Suryeo Hall, imperceptible to the naked eye.
Those with weak spiritual power would naturally steer clear of Suryeo Hall where the festival was held, and the hall itself would drift further from reality.
-Dong. Dong. Dong.
With all preparations complete, bells tolled as the doors of Suryeo Hall swung open.
Suryeo Hall, strictly off-limits to students for the past two weeks under the guise of interior renovations, had become a realm utterly purged of worldly traces.
Two hours before the hour of the serpent, footsteps began gathering before Suryeo Hall.
Over a hundred 'observers' at least.
The observers, their faces concealed by identical white masks, kept their mouths firmly shut like sinners, maintaining utter silence.
Though they clearly recognized one another, they exchanged no words or glances.
In the hush, the group silently presented recommendation letters to the doorkeepers and entered Suryeo Hall.
For they lacked the qualifications to attend the academic festival.
Speech was forbidden to these observers, who sought knowledge even if only through sidelong glances.
The powerless, bereft of voice, could not utter a word until the festival concluded.
In this place bound by such prohibitions, only the 'attendees'—those properly invited with speaking privileges—could open their mouths, voice opinions, and engage in so-called academic discourse unchecked.
The observers were mostly novices and newcomers gathered silently in hopes of gleaning even a scrap of wisdom.
As the observers vanished into Suryeo Hall ahead of the attendees, a strange tension and dissonance built, until at last the bells heralded the promised hour of the serpent.
And then, an uninvited guest appeared, unwelcome by all.
"Such fresh vitality in the air. True to the Emerging Scholars' Academic Festival, it seems the young ones have gathered in droves. This should be fun."
A man in a blue silk robe rode the smoke down, landing before the doorkeepers at Suryeo Hall's entrance.
His face was hidden by a white fox mask without even eyeholes, making one doubt if a human face truly lay beneath.
"Here. The invitation. Check it quickly, doorkeeper."
The man pulled an invitation from his bosom and thrust it at the doorkeeper's face.
An invitation identical in form to Nam Yu-ha's.
Issued to 'attendees' guaranteed the right to speak.
"Tch. Even the loathsome fox has slunk in."
As the man shoved the invitation at the doorkeeper, a woman landed behind him with a click of her tongue.
A spirit medium in a deep green jeogori, her face veiled in red cloth.
She drew a fan made of crow feathers and glared at the man.
Even veiled, they recognized each other.
Having crossed paths for years, the elder figures knew nearly everyone's identities despite the disguises.
Especially these two, bound by old grudges.
"Kitsune, have you come chasing rumors too? A traitor who never showed his face in life crawls out here. Whatever gall brings you, you must be mad to court your own doom."
Her fierce glare pierced even the red veil.
The man met her venomous gaze with a grin, offering an exaggerated bow in greeting.
"Well! If it isn't Madam Osa of the Five Serpents—long time no see, what a delight! Chasing rumors like me, are you? I heard you'd holed up in Jeju after your divine power waned. Quite the trek here. Desperate times, eh?"
Kitsune's mockery left Madam Osa unable to hide her fury.
Indeed, her divine power had waned, and in her anxiety, she'd broken seclusion to attend this festival.
Struck by unvarnished fact—not provocation or lies—Madam Osa snapped shut her crow-feather fan, unleashed her power, and hurled killing intent at Kitsune.
She truly meant to kill. No one would blame her for slaying this man here.
"You fox scum deserving death. Your insolent tongue proves you'd die nowhere else fittingly. No more words. Traitor, perish here."
Shadows at Madam Osa's feet writhed like serpentine heads, rearing up.
As if poised to tear into Kitsune.
Thud-!
"Come now, why the fuss? The festival hasn't even started. Fighting at the entrance? Not on such a fine day in such a fine place. Bloodshed already would be quite troublesome."
Just before Madam Osa's shadow struck Kitsune.
A man in a crude wooden mask, carved roughly from a log, dropped from the sky and crushed the shadow lunging for Kitsune's throat, obliterating it.
"Kitsune, know your limits. I respect the nerve behind that thick face of yours coming here. But keep needling people, and I'll snap your wrist first."
The burly giant seized Kitsune's trailing smoke—aimed at Madam Osa's back—and dispersed it, then fixed his gaze on the still-grinning fox.
Under the bear's stare, the fox tucked tail.
Recognizing two foes at once would be tough, Kitsune raised both hands in playful surrender.
"Got it, got it! Geez, Madam Osa, you're so touchy. Sharper and more venomous than before. Age catching up? Makes sense—even I'd get prickly if my divine power faded and wrinkles multiplied."
"You damned fox! I'll kill you!"
"Hey now! Osa, enough from you too. Getting riled by that fox's three-inch tongue only burns you more."
The burly man quickly separated the snake and fox resuming their clash, proposing they enter Suryeo Hall and end it.
"It's not even midnight. Students are still around campus—if things escalate now, innocents get hurt. Come on, drop it and head in. Save the fight for later, just you two."
The giant swiftly mediated between the onmyoji Kitsune and spirit medium Madam Osa.
As if such scuffles were routine, he casually wrapped up the scene and entered Suryeo Hall.
"Mukgu... did you see...? Someone fell from the sky... Like a plummeting muscle angel or something... This place is packed with real monsters... I wanna go home now..."
"Yu-dam, come on, don't say that already. We came all this way—back out scared? After this trek, we gotta at least see if it's real or not."
"It's probably... just another rumor... No way it exists..."
"This time it might really show! Ninety-seven percent sure!"
"Ninety-seven percent? Not even ninety-nine...? That's vague..."
A girl with her face mosaicked by spellwork—not a mask—and a boy wearing a pitch-black spherical orb over his head chattered excitedly about 'it,' showed their invitations to the doorkeeper, and entered Suryeo Hall.
One by one, more attendees with speaking rights gathered at the festival venue.
Unlike observers here for skill-building, these invitees brimmed with anticipation over whether that rumored item would truly appear.
And at last, the one to reveal the truth arrived.
"What a fog—nearly caused a crash."
The Fixer with answers, the Oracle come in her master's stead, and a yokai disguised as a car pierced the barrier and reached Twin Gates Women's University.
The Fixer, wearing a bread bag with crude eyeholes as a mask, parked the yokai in the campus lot and headed to Suryeo Hall's entrance with the Oracle in her hag mask.
Bothered by the ominous fog impairing vision the whole way, the Fixer soon realized it was conjured by sorcery.
"Not ordinary fog, huh."
"Clear skies nationwide, no clouds—yet fog here alone. Had to be."
The Fixer nodded at the Oracle's words, drew his invitation, and showed it to the doorkeeper.
"Verified. You may enter."
The doorkeeper checked the Fixer and Oracle's invitations and promptly cleared the way—as if that sufficed. Thus, the festival's final attendees entered Suryeo Hall.
No need to flash the Nameless Registry after all. The seal on the invitation was enough.
As he'd suspected, someone had tampered with the invitation.
"Night and day inside versus out."
"Yeah, you can tell effort went into the setup."
Beyond Suryeo Hall's entrance lay an exhibition hall ablaze with lights and brimming with artworks.
Entering this vibrant space from fog-shrouded gloom dazzled the Fixer. He drooled over the paper crafts and diverse works by society members everywhere.
Just observing triggered his skills [Ancient Text Deciphering] and [Humanities Literacy] simultaneously, enriching his knowledge.
Suryeo Hall's exhibition was a goldmine for bolstering the Fixer's spiritual lore.
Keeping eyes open sufficed to absorb spirit medium, onmyoji, and sorcerer techniques effortlessly.
"What's all this? Wow, O-ryeong, see that? Who makes stuff like that? Bet it'd cost a fortune."
"Um, mister? We might be late—shouldn't we head to the venue?"
"Hold on! Let's browse a bit more. Still time, right?"
"True, but... you're way too excited, like a kid!"
The Fixer marveled at the paper crafts like a country bumpkin fresh in the city.
Beyond skills, a 3-meter azure dragon from single sheets or lifelike beast ornaments thrilled any man.
Knowledge rose just from looking, and every piece was stunning.
Surrounded by such fantastical crafts, the Fixer yearned to linger.
Meanwhile, the Oracle tugged his clothes, embarrassed by his childlike awe at every trifle.
Naturally, they avoided real names.
In a place demanding anonymity, the Fixer called the Oracle 'O-ryeong' instead of Yu-ha, and she stuck to 'mister' as usual.
"Whoa, O-ryeong, check this. Amazing craftsmanship—a super detailed paper doll. Whoa! It moves!"
"Ugh... mister! Time to go! We'll really be late!"
"Should've come earlier to browse. Shame."
Forgetting age, uncle and niece-like duo bickered joyfully over curiosities as they headed to the venue.
En route without issue, a red-veiled woman blocked their path.
"Who are you...?"
Startled by the sudden obstruction, the Oracle asked, but got no introduction—only one-sided rage.
"What are you two doing, yapping so loudly in a place demanding silence? This your playground? Fresh off the farm market, raising voices like that! Since when did the Talisman Society stoop so low?"
Still seething from Kitsune's taunt about her waning power, Madam Osa needed an outlet—and picked the Fixer and Oracle.
New to the festival, they were unknowns to her.
Just easy marks as rookies.
"A whelp not even past twenty and... what are you? Bread bag? What vermin call themselves attendees? Doorkeepers slacking?"
Was her power truly faded? Prime Osa never would've erred so.
She'd have clocked the Oracle's foster mother instantly and fled at the Fixer's shadow alone.
But faded Osa lacked even that insight.
In the hush, she menaced the pair who'd stirred minor fuss, aiming to cow them.
"Auntie. What'd you say? Vermin? Scum?"
"What? Auntie?! Hey! Where do I look like an auntie?!"
"Mister, calm down and let's go. Sorry for the noise, ma'am."
"What? Ma'am...? You brats!"
The Oracle tried reining in the bristling Fixer, but Osa struck first.
Topping Osa's hate list: being called auntie or ma'am.
Especially by a young girl who clearly looked it—something snapped inside her.
"Where does a brat interrupt adults? You, not even observer caliber!"
Osa's shadow writhed, coiling up the Oracle's leg to seal her mouth.
Not truly dangerous.
Just petty venting—a light gag to humble and scare.
But the Fixer saw no mere warning.
This was clear aggression against his charge.
Commissioned by Master Mun Seon-woo to protect and teach the Oracle, the Fixer moved at blinding speed, seizing Osa's throat.
Had it been him instead, no such fury.
"Kyaaak! Let... guh."
Osa couldn't react.
Speed beyond human perception. Overwhelming force crushed her windpipe.
A bit more pressure, and her neck snaps.
She who'd handle elite yokai hordes faced death from an unknown human's hand.
"Auntie. Dismiss the shadow. Three seconds."
From the bread-bag-masked man unfit for the society's dignity oozed merciless violence and rage.
Osa shuddered at his power, realizing her grave mistake.
True to her faded state, enlightenment came too late.