Chapter 19. Even Thicker
The red sunset draped over the crescent-shaped lake. A breeze stirred the leaves into a rustling downpour. It all blended into one breathtaking painting.
The fairy Eizel sat there by the water's edge for a moment. Her thoughts drifted to her disciple... and their sweet kisses. Every day, she cradled him in her heart, her longing growing ever deeper. I'm a pathetic teacher. Falling in love with my own student... Some nights, the torment kept her awake. She'd scold herself—this wasn't right. But it was all pointless. Love couldn't be reined in like that.
From the moment she'd accepted his kiss, it had become an unstoppable storm. Eizel often dreamed of kissing him. But at the end, he always vanished. She'd chase after him, desperate not to lose him, only to wake. She could never hold on. I should have begged him to stay. Told him to live here with me. The regrets piled up endlessly.
So she waited for him endlessly, never knowing when he'd return. She'd slip into his empty room, collapse onto the bed where he'd lain, and writhe in memories of their kisses. Ah, aaah—
The time apart stretched on. She was going mad missing him. So she replayed those happy memories over and over... And so the fairy's love ripened thicker by the day.
On one such afternoon, uninvited guests arrived at her cabin. Two of them. Eizel was furious. This was the place filled with her joyful days alongside her disciple. The intrusion felt like a violation.
But when she saw who they were, her anger melted away like spring snow. Joy rushed in to fill the void.
"Cheonma—!"
Even after nearly a decade since their last meeting, Cheonma looked unchanged. He shared a light embrace with his old friend, the fairy Eizel.
"It's been forever. How've you been?"
"Same as always—pursuing truth."
"...You live such a boring life."
"Says the guy living out here like a fairy."
They chuckled lightly. Only then did Eizel's gaze shift to the human woman trailing behind.
"Who's this? Your bride?"
"What am I, chopped liver?"
Eizel winced inwardly.
"My disciple. Rarosa."
"An honor to meet you."
The woman with soft light-brown hair and snow-white skin bowed politely. Eizel returned a faint smile.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Eizel."
"I've heard so much about you from Master. An old friend..."
"Well... it's been a while."
Nearly thirty years, by the calendar. Honestly, it was more than friendship at this point.
"Come in. Eaten yet?"
"Grabbed something light."
"Tea, then?"
"Sounds good."
The three entered the cabin. Cheonma scanned the interior and nodded approvingly.
"You finally got your wish. A quiet, peaceful spot."
"Over four years now, I think?"
"Heard you retired. ...So no more disciples?"
"Ah... yeah. Sit."
The master and disciple sat side by side at the table. Eizel poured lukewarm steeped tea from the day's brew and slid the cups over.
"Anyway, great to see you after so long."
"You too."
They chatted idly about everyday things. Rarosa sat primly silent throughout. Of course, Eizel's eyes keenly observed her. Anyone Cheonma took as a disciple wouldn't be ordinary.
The fairy guessed why he'd dragged himself all this way with his student in tow.
The conversation lulled, and the air grew heavy.
"Alright, down to business."
The smile vanished from Eizel's lips. Her old friend was gone; only the sharp-tongued fairy remained.
"What do you want? ...Don't give me that 'just missed you' crap."
Cheonma grinned broadly.
"Sharp as ever."
"Not sharp—obvious. Alone, maybe. But with your disciple? You've got an agenda."
"Fair. No beating around the bush."
He set his teacup down with a light clink.
"Write me a recommendation letter."
Eizel snorted as if she'd expected it, leaning back and crossing her arms.
"You, who swore off heroes? What's this?"
"World's changing. Can't stay the same."
"Not you, obviously... Her?"
Cheonma nodded instead of answering. Rarosa sat ramrod straight like a recruit, fists lightly clenched on her knees, staring ahead.
Normally, she'd refuse. But suddenly, her own disciple's face flashed in her mind. Seeing these two together made it worse.
Eizel hesitated, lips parting several times. Sorry, but no wouldn't come out.
If she refused, Cheonma would bow out gracefully and head to the capital for other options. A recommendation letter? That was perfect reason for her to go to the capital too. And meet her disciple, Kang Ji-hyuk.
Ah—
Thinking of him shook her resolve. She found a convenient excuse.
"Fine... Can't rudely turn down an old friend after ten years."
Cheonma was surprised. He hadn't expected her to agree so readily. Living alone must've softened her edges.
"Thanks. Dodged a bullet there."
"...Special favor for a friend."
"Got it. Next time, I'll owe you one. Name it."
"Deal. I'll think on it."
Eizel shoved the empty teacup to the table's center and glanced out the window. Dusk had fallen. The candle on the table was the room's only light.
"Cheonma, floor's fine for you, right? I'll bunk with her."
Rarosa spoke up quickly.
"I'll take the floor too."
"Whatever."
His room sat empty, of course—but oddly, she didn't want to offer it to outsiders. Even if it meant giving up her own bed.
The three entered her bedroom. Small but cozy. Eizel handed out two blankets. They'd have their own mats from travel anyway.
Cheonma sensed she'd softened since the old days. Back then, she'd nag endlessly and snap at everything. Solitude must've made her crave company.
"Good night, Master. Good night, ma'am."
"Yeah."
Rarosa offered her polite goodnight and lay down. Watching her, Eizel thought of her disciple again.
She dreamed. Her disciple embraced her fiercely, showering her with kisses. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sucking on his tongue.
—Then this unworthy disciple will take his leave.
No, don't go. Don't go. I'll cook for you. Laundry, cleaning—everything. Just don't go.
But Ji-hyuk turned and left. No matter how she chased, she couldn't catch him. Her feet were too heavy. She pursued madly and woke.
...Dawn already.
The three departed the cabin early morning. No need to linger on a done deal. Villagers whispered as they passed—The fairy's already swapped men. Eizel ignored them. Without gossip like this, a sleepy village would be unbearable.
"Oh, how's the guild?"
Cheonma had left the capital years ago to found one near the southern continent. They'd lost touch until yesterday.
"Decent size now. Fifty members or so."
"Sparse for ten years."
"No riffraff."
Ah— Oddly, it mirrored Cheonma and her disciple's paths. Guilds, selective recruits...
"Actually, got someone I want you to meet."
"...Me?"
"Yeah. You'll be shocked."
"Who?"
"In the capital. See for yourself."
Cheonma dropped it there. As she'd said, just go and see.
Eizel glanced at Rarosa. No weapons—she must use fists like her master.
"Fist techniques, then?"
"Yes."
"Tough path. Especially for a woman."
Fists relied on full-body power for destruction. Reasonable to question if women had the edge men did.
"Fists suit me."
Eizel's eyes flicked to Cheonma beside her.
"Not forcing her? No need for the hard road when good weapons exist."
"Fists are a great weapon."
"...Sure."
Stubborn as ever. Yet that bullheadedness had nearly conquered the martial world. Eizel was certain he ranked among the continent's top five.
This unassuming neighbor-type was a monster among monsters. One punch shattered house-sized boulders, collapsed mountains. She'd seen many powerhouses, but none like him.
Meeting her disciple would be a sight. Eizel thrilled at the thought. Historic, for sure. Cheonma would gape too. Imagining his face, she giggled like a girl.
Cheonma blinked. First time seeing her like that.
"What're you grinning about?"
"...Huh? Nothing."
Her face hardened. Clearly something—but he wasn't one to pry. He let it slide.
The carriage fell quiet. Rarosa meditated, eyes closed—training even now. Her obsessive drive was pure Cheonma.
Truly exceptional. Her poise screamed it—restraint ingrained like breathing. Per Cheonma's philosophy of total-body utilization, she'd been forged that way.
He's dead serious about her. All his effort poured in. Maybe his final masterpiece, like her Ji-hyuk.
Proving it by making her a hero, standing at the pinnacle.
...Realizing that, Eizel smiled slyly. Sorry, but we've got an ace too. No matter how great she was, she couldn't touch Ji-hyuk. He had history's finest talent. A bit more maturity, and he'd be the continent's best—even over Cheonma here.
I might lose, but my disciple won't—
Pure parental pride. To Eizel, Ji-hyuk was the world's finest child.