The Red Flower Falls (15)
It feels exactly like a leaky bucket riddled with holes. His demeanor had been so disarmingly gentle that it threw me off balance for a moment, but his true nature was steadily leaking out, no longer able to stay hidden. If nothing else, it was clear that Yeon Minha was undeniably his daughter. Still, it was fortunate that it didn’t trigger any major emotional upheaval in me. I felt like I’d already been vaccinated against it. The Yeon Minha of the past had been the first dose, and the mother I encountered yesterday was the second… On top of that, it was obvious that the head of the Red Fire family harbored a vicious hostility toward the Paecheon clan. One needed only to look at the barbed modifiers he attached to every utterance of the word “Paecheon.” And if it seemed to stem not from arrogant contempt but from a deep-seated sense of inferiority, was that merely my imagination?
Unlike ordinary mages who emphasized magical achievement, the Red Fire clan projected only its long history and traditions. This had been true of the steward who had rattled off explanations yesterday, and it was the same for the family head standing before me now. I recalled everything I had seen and heard about the Red Fire. They occupied one of the five great families’ seats as masters of spirit magic. Yet because spirit magic could not utilize particle array devices and devoured enormous amounts of brain resources, developing or employing unique magic like the other families was nearly impossible. Their ability to command spirits of various attributes—if the wavelengths aligned—granted them unmatched magical versatility, but they were inherently limited in reaching the ultimate pinnacle. For that reason, the Red Fire had made little scholarly progress in the field of magic. As a result, they were subtly regarded as inferior by the other families in academic circles. They had even gained the absurd side effect of mental pollution as the price for mastering spirit magic, and externally they had long been under pressure from the Paecheon family.
If he carried hostility and an inferiority complex in his heart, it likely stemmed from exactly these circumstances. Since Paecheon had been overshadowed by both the Black Lotus and Red Fire for so long and had only risen in this generation, the resentment must have been especially bitter.
“…Ahem. Father. Anyway…”
Yeon Minha, who had been nervously watching my reaction, finally steered the conversation elsewhere to smooth things over. After continuing in a dry tone for some time, Yeon Jeong-mun glanced at the clock and rose from his seat.
“My, it has grown late. I must take my leave first. Enjoy your final night here in comfort.”
Once he departed, Yeon Minha’s mother also picked at her food absentmindedly before soon retreating to the inner quarters. Left alone with me, Yeon Minha let out a heavy sigh as though she had completed some monumental task.
“…Huu.”
She turned to me with an anxious, worried expression once more.
“About what Father said earlier…”
“I have no particular thoughts on the matter, so pay it no mind.”
“Even so…”
“It’s truly fine. More importantly, it seemed like a long-awaited family gathering. I hope I didn’t intrude?”
Yeon Minha shook her head.
“No, not at all. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have come in the first place.”
“I see…”
“Yes. If you’re finished eating, shall we take our leave?”
Yeon Minha stood, cast a quick glance around, then leaned close and whispered into my ear.
“I’ll come at the promised time later. See you at the annex.”
The clock now read two in the morning.
Yeon Minha stood before the mirror, making her final preparations before slipping out to the annex. Though it was a nighttime outing with no one to see her, she carefully applied lipstick, put on light makeup, and neatly arranged her hair.
While she was absorbed in the task, a knock sounded from the corridor.
“My lady.”
“…What is it?”
The sudden interruption displeased her greatly, but she caught the urgent note in the voice calling her. When Yeon Minha opened the door, a servant stood there fidgeting and stamping their feet in distress.
“…The madam has drunk heavily and is throwing quite a fit… For some reason it’s worse than usual today… We cannot manage her…”
“Mother is throwing a fit…?”
Yeon Minha could not hide her shock. She had heard some commotion from the inner quarters earlier, but she never imagined her mother was the source. From childhood her mother had been a strict, difficult woman, yet she had always maintained an elegant bearing and solemn propriety. Even when Yeon Minha heard earlier that day that her mother had taken to drinking more and more, she had remained skeptical…
“…Just when did she become like this?”
“It has been roughly two years…”
Yeon Minha’s brows drew together slightly. Two years again. The mass replacement of servants had happened two years ago. Her mother’s strange behavior had begun two years ago. The visits from that nun or whatever had started two years ago. Her father’s unbelievable recovery had occurred two years ago. Just what had happened two years ago?
“…And actually, she always behaves this way on days when she dines with the family head…”
The servant glanced around before whispering in a voice so low only Yeon Minha could hear.
Had the two of them fought? She already knew their marriage had been a strategic alliance. It was hardly unusual. Her mother’s family owned the giant pharmaceutical enterprise Extreme Light Bio, but at the time it had been suffering severe financial difficulties from successive management failures. In exchange for injecting part of the wealth gained from their stellite mining monopoly, the Red Fire had arranged the marriage between her then-successor father and the young lady who became her mother. The intent had been to use those connections to research a cure for mental pollution more deeply, but no breakthrough was found, rendering the attempt a complete failure.
Even as their child, Yeon Minha could not deny they were a show-window couple. Yet they had faithfully fulfilled their duty to produce descendants. After all, she herself had been born in the same year as their marriage. No younger siblings followed. Still, considering Yeon Minha’s innate talent, it had been a rational decision. Mages were a precious seed; spreading one’s bloodline was generally praised as virtue. But excessive obsession, as with the Paecheon family, often bred internal discord.
Though she had left the main house for three years to treat her mental pollution, nothing in particular came to mind that might have caused conflict between her parents.
“…I understand. I’ll go at once.”
Thinking it would not take long, Yeon Minha sent the servant away and quickly wrote a note. She stated she would arrive at the annex roughly ten minutes later than planned, then whistled.
—Caw!
Soon the sound of flapping wings approached, and a small shadow alighted by the window. Yeon Minha fastened the note to the charming crow—no larger than her little finger, with a blunt beak—and it immediately flew off toward its intended recipient.
She followed the servant toward her mother’s room. As she drew nearer, the corridor filled with the sound of wrenching sobs and shattering objects.
With a troubled expression, Yeon Minha dismissed the servants lingering in the hallway and stood before the door.
“Mother. It’s me, Minha. I’m coming in.”
Repeated knocks yielded only continued weeping. Yeon Minha sighed and finally opened the door.
The stench of alcohol saturated the air. Several liquor bottles lay scattered across the floor; some had shattered, leaving sharp shards everywhere.
“Sob… hic… What wrong did I commit… I hate this now… I’m so tired…”
Her mother sat with her head bowed on the table, sobbing mournfully.
“Mother.”
At the voice calling from nearby, the woman finally flinched. Her eyes, when they turned to Yeon Minha, were badly unfocused.
“Hiccup… Who… hic…! Is it… isn’t it our young lady…!”
The woman who barely recognized her broke into a smile so wide it seemed her mouth would tear. Rather than affectionate, the expression was eerily unsettling. Yeon Minha shook off the chill and approached.
“…Mother. You’re far too drunk. You should sleep now…”
She tried to support her mother and move her to the bed. The instant her fingers touched the woman’s shoulder, however, her mother violently slapped the hand away and screamed.
“Don’t touch me!! How dare you…!”
“Mother, if you continue like this your health will—”
“Who’s your mother!! Stop it, please just stop…!”
Despite repeated persuasion, the woman remained obstinate. As she covered her ears, the final words she hurled caused sorrow to surge up in Yeon Minha’s own chest.
From the childhood she could remember, her mother had never once shown her affection. Not a single warm word. Her father’s mind had been diseased by mental pollution, but her mother’s attitude was utterly incomprehensible.
The young Yeon Minha had believed herself inadequate and thrown herself even harder into study and training. Even when she suffered severe mental pollution symptoms proportional to her talent, she had tried not to cause worry. Yet over long years her mother had never once offered concern or encouragement.
And even now she firmly rejected her. The fact that no matter how much Yeon Minha pondered it she could not fathom the reason pained her even more.
“Mother… You really are too cruel. Am I not the daughter you carried and gave birth to? How can you be so cold to me every single time…!”
Yet even to this sorrowful plea the woman responded with a deranged, hollow laugh laced with greater madness. The content of her drunken ramblings was even harder to comprehend.
“Daughter… Heh, hehehe… Who ever said you were my daughter… Hehehe…!”
“Mother…!”
“Kekeke… Child… Isn’t that it? The person you call mother… is someone who has never once used a new product…”
“What…?”
Yeon Minha pressed her, but the next words from her mother’s mouth were enough to freeze her thoughts. She tried to dismiss it as drunken nonsense, yet her heart continued to pound violently, preventing her from regaining composure.
Yeon Minha barely managed to speak.
“Mother… Such a vile joke is—”
“Puh… Child. Does it sound like a joke to you…? Poor thing… not even knowing who your real mother is…”
“Mother… Please stop… If you’re not my mother, then who—”
Even to Yeon Minha’s plea that sounded nearly like weeping, the woman did not stop.
“Hehehe…! Don’t worry…! It’s someone you know very well… Hic!”
And the woman, reason lost to drink, finally uttered the secret she had kept tightly hidden all this time.
“She’s running a little late…”
Yeon Minha’s crow had buried its head against my shoulder just as I was preparing to depart. I wondered if something had happened, but… if it were truly serious, she would not have sent such a casual note. I was about to reply that I understood when damp night air seeped through the open window, and once again the scent of blood from yesterday rode the wind up from below the hill.
I immediately stepped outside and headed for the garden. I had not misread the smell. That same work from yesterday was clearly being repeated even now.
What should I do? In this situation I could not simply wait for Yeon Minha. The anxiety that had lingered in my mind ever since arriving here intensified. It felt as though I might miss something crucial.
In the end I scribbled a note saying I would go ahead to observe the situation, fastened it to the crow, and set off at once.
As I had the previous night, I crawled to the edge of the bushes and shrubs and peered ahead. Once more I saw servants carrying several sacks under the weak glow of headlights. Grumbling filled with dissatisfaction carried clearly to my position. They seemed to be quarreling among themselves; their loud argument was perfectly audible.
“I’m hungry… They don’t even give us food…! They won’t let us hunt either…!”
“Shut your mouth! How can one engaged in a sacred great cause be swayed by mere hunger! Overcome it with your own power!”
“Great cause… I don’t know that! I’m hungry! They only make us carry food!”
“Ha, how stupid… We should have brought second-grade ones instead of these beasts…”
The voice muttering curses alone made my blood gradually boil.
What was this talk? A sacred great cause? Throwing around such grandiose words while merely carrying blood-stained sacks to a warehouse? A mere servant? Beasts? Second-grade?
As I turned the conversation over in my mind, my thoughts began spinning furiously. What gave me pause, however, was that this was the private estate of a prestigious family located in the heart of the capital—far from such primal matters.
While the two servants continued their meaningless argument, one of the piled sacks began to wriggle. Its opening came loose, and the contents spilled out.
I doubted my eyes. No matter how many times I blinked, the figure sitting there trembling in fear was unmistakably human—a small girl wearing the shabby clothes one might see in a slum.
All the testimonies I had heard from the servants yesterday rose to the surface at once.
I struggled to calm my mind and maintain cold reason. Yet the situation continued to spiral in directions I could not predict.
Suddenly the arguing voices cut off at the new presence. They merely stared at the child who had emerged, rolling their eerie eyes.
Soon the face of the complaining laborer began to grotesquely contort. His eyes, nose, and ears protruded unevenly as coarse black fur sprouted. His snout elongated, jagged fangs interlocked, and a long, spiraling horn burst from the center of his forehead.
“Food… I can’t hold back anymore… I’ll eat!!!”
The creature opened its maw wide and lunged at the girl before it. Any hesitation and her throat would be torn out.
Before thought could form, my body moved.
“Kaheung!”
I sprang forward and drove my fist into the monster’s jaw, sending it flying several meters backward. Then I shouted at the girl who remained seated, still shivering.
“Run! Quickly!!”