My Little Sister is from the Fire Cult (12)
To Mukgang, who was meticulously examining my body for any issues, I recounted everything I'd seen in the spiritual world. He looked at me with a slightly surprised expression and said,
"...A heavenly being has marked you in its own world. Whether that's good luck or bad, who can say? What kind of life have you even lived at your young age?"
Eh? A heavenly being out of nowhere? Does the Murim world have celestial races like in fantasy? Then demons too? Dragons exist or not—what's the deal? Murim's impressive. I concede defeat to fantasy.
"Well, I just ate the food Mom gave me and lived happily ever after. But what's this heavenly being?"
"The term 'heavenly being' usually refers to the eight entities—or races—that frolic in the skies, unbound by earthly morals: the Palbu Sinjung (Eight Legions)." Mukgang used a stick to draw the members of the Palbu Sinjung on the dirt ground as he explained.
Cheon (Deva), Yong (Dragon), Yacha (Yaksha), Gandharva, Asura, Garuda, Kinnara, Mahoraga.
"Among these, the foremost are the Deva and the Dragon. Ordinary people must never get entangled with either."
The word "dragon" immediately brought to mind the adorable baby dragon Ohae. We ate together, played together, slept together. We were always side by side. Hell, we were tangled up as tight as could be—like Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang's legendary friendship.
"Uh... I think I'm already pretty entangled with a dragon."
At my words, Mukgang furrowed his brow for a moment but soon nodded reassuringly.
"Dragons are inherently gentle creatures. They don't harm humans lightly. However—"
'See? I knew it! Ohae's such a good kid!'
"—you must never tangle with the bloodline of the North Sea Dragon King O Sun."
My easing heart grew heavy again at his follow-up.
North Sea Dragon King O Sun—a name I'd heard before. According to Ohae's mother, Jegal Somwol, that was Ohae's father, the dragon.
"Just as humans have individual temperaments, so do dragons. Depending on their bloodline and life experiences, what they obsess over differs."
"Obsession?"
For some reason, the word felt ominous, like it came with regret and ruin trailing behind.
"Yes. Dragons are usually docile, but when it comes to what they love, their obsession is terrifyingly intense."
"For example, the East Sea Dragon King O Gwang loves collecting treasures. Especially rare swords or armor—he's obsessed. He never lets anyone who touches his treasures get away."
"And the West Sea Dragon King O Heum is fixated on promises. Even friends or family—he absolutely won't forgive anyone who breaks one."
The chilling phrases—"never lets get away," "absolutely won't forgive"—sent shivers down my spine, my legs going weak.
"...So what does the North Sea Dragon King O Sun obsess over?"
"Love."
"...Pardon? Love?"
"The North Sea Dragon King O Sun rules the North Sea—the coldest ocean in the world—so he yearns for warmth and craves love. That's why, whenever he falls for someone, he kidnaps them to his palace."
No... If you're cold, get a heater. Bundle up. Why kidnap innocent people? Psycho much?
As I sat there dumbfounded, unable to respond, Mukgang paused before speaking to me in a grave, warning tone.
"There are differences, but those of O Sun's bloodline inherit this trait—they're utterly sincere in love. Once they feel that warmth, they never forget it. No matter where you hide in the world, they'll find you. That's why they're dangerous."
I pictured Ohae, her soft, cool glutinous rice cake cheeks rubbing against me as she clung tightly.
...Come to think of it, Ohae always said I was warm and loved being hugged. I'd thought it was just because she grew up without love and craved affection. But it was her dad's trait.
Still, Ohae's just a baby dragon. Does she even know what love is?
[This medicine is yummy~]
Her innocent face popped into my head as she munched happily on snacks.
-Yeah, in a world without dating sims, how would a kid know about love?
'...I wonder if she's doing okay.'
Maybe because I'd seen her in the spiritual world, I missed Ohae more than usual today.
Regretfully, it wasn't like I could just go see her, so I shook my head to clear the thoughts and asked Mukgang seriously,
"Uncle, let me be direct. I'm tangled up with North Sea Dragon King bloodline, and this kid has a history of rampages. How do I keep her from going berserk?"
I'd taught Ohae. So I had to take responsibility to the end.
Personally, I wanted her to walk the human path, but I couldn't deny her dragon blood either. Ohae was a human-dragon hybrid. Both her human and dragon forms were precious.
So I couldn't turn a blind eye to dragon-related issues. I needed to learn more about them.
Mukgang sighed with a look like 'I knew it.' Then, with a serious face, he answered my query.
"My personal recommendation: hold hands with her, go live in the mountains, and settle down peacefully."
"...Huh? The mountains? No other options?"
Holding hands and living happily with Ohae didn't sound bad, but mountains? Sure, it sounded romantic, but it'd be filthy uncomfortable. Foraging for food, bugs everywhere, no hospital nearby if injured. Beyond inconvenient—it was downright dangerous. And way too quiet. I preferred lively, fun places. At least a town with people bustling around.
"Then it's one or the other. Die, or become a hero."
"...Why do you keep suggesting extremes? Nothing else?"
"Nothing. Those who dare ride a dragon's back meet one of two ends: fall off because they can't handle its power and die, or grab its horns, tame it, and become a hero. That's it."
She climbed on top of me while I was sleeping, for crying out loud. Unfair.
We talked more after that, but no real solutions emerged.
...There was so much more I wanted to ask about—North Sea Dragon King O Sun, the Palbu Sinjung, the new Immovable Bright King energy I'd gained—but the sun was setting, so we agreed to meet again tomorrow and headed down the mountain.
Looking back, all I'd done today was meditate and chat, but I was exhausted, my body heavy.
Jegal Family Manor, Jegal Yang's residence.
A beautiful girl with pale skin, clear blue eyes like a morning sea, and sharp shark teeth hidden behind petite, cute lips lay on the bed, wriggling happily.
She always dreamed of Mancheon, but today's dream was special. It felt real. She could feel Mancheon's warmth.
With a blissful expression, Ohae gently fondled the red silk pouch embroidered with "Sima Mancheon" in golden thread.
This silk pouch and the gleaming staff in the corner of the room—meticulously maintained—were Ohae's treasures. No matter how busy with martial arts training, she tended to them herself. She let no one else's hands touch them.
...She wouldn't let anyone who touched them get away.
Her slender, pretty fingers stroked the golden thread as she traced Mancheon's name.
What a strange dream. The clever Mancheon had forgotten her name, turned to bubbles, and sunk deeper and deeper.
'...But he remembered mine.'
Her cheeks flushed red. Her heart pounded hot and fast.
Even in the dream, it had been ages since she'd seen him, but Mancheon was as cool as ever. His eyes sparkled even in the darkness. And he was still so warm.
She recalled the sensation of his right arm hugging her so tightly it felt like she'd shatter.
Emotions overwhelmed her. That warmth filled her heart and body.
She twisted and rolled around on the bed, tumbling happily.
Blissful. True happiness after so long.
...But something had marred what could have been perfect happiness.
Ohae stopped rolling and stared blankly at the ceiling. The light slowly faded from her beautiful blue eyes.
She remembered the vivid red thread connected to Mancheon's clothes in the dream, trailing off somewhere.
A thin but stark red thread, linking to who-knows-where.
It felt awful. Her body burned hot—but not the warm heat from before. A sticky, viscous sensation. A raging fire boiled up from deep within her organs.
"Quiet."
The black serpent, sensing the voice colder and more ruthless than a North Sea winter night, judged now wasn't the time to butt in and quickly coiled its tail, fleeing.
...Her side still ached from when it tried seizing control in the spiritual world and got blasted by Dragon Subduing Palm.
Even after chasing off the black serpent, her mood didn't improve. The red thread lingered in her mind.
Her beautiful blue eyes sank—coldly, endlessly.
"Oppa, say 'ahh~'."
In my room, I let Yeomhwa feed me the Western Region cuisine she'd made. Ultimate luxury. Pure bliss.
I'd never had a little sister before, so I didn't know, but this must be why people become big brothers.
All that effort to get close paid off. Sure, maybe we got too close, but good is good, right?
As I savored the exotic, delicious Western dishes with those thoughts, Yeomhwa quietly offered a glass of water.
"Oppa, here."
...Yeah, my throat was dry. Perfect timing.
She was always so perceptive. I'd noticed it before.
I gave a soft smile and thanks, took the water, and drank. She watched her oppa with a happy smile.
She gazed at oppa's eyebrows, his nose, his ears, his pupils, his Adam's apple, his lips.
Scrutinizing closely, he wasn't the type to make you fall at first sight. The world was vast, full of men handsomer than Mancheon.
But it had to be him. Oppa was the one.
Just looking at his face brought a smile. Her chest filled with happiness.
She gently placed a hand on her heart, feeling its rapid beat. The heart sharing blood with her beloved oppa.
The current Sima family eldest son, Sima Rang, had originally been Jang Chunhwa's much younger brother.
Their father died young of illness, and their mother fled with the inheritance. Since no relatives wanted to adopt a child with "lowly blood," Sima Bu—
"My wife's family is no different from my own. If there's no one to care for him, I will."
—took him in as an adopted son.
A heartwarming tale.
Mockery flickered in Yeomhwa's red eyes.
What Sima Bu truly cherished was only his beloved wife Jang Chunhwa and his real son Sima Mancheon.
He'd taken in a child with no blood ties, calling him his wife's brother, because he needed a decoy to protect his future real heir.
Suppose enemy forces targeted the Sima family. Between the heir apparent eldest and an uneducated second son, who would they go after?
Sima Rang's poor health wasn't solely due to frailty.
'...Filthy scum.'
She shook her head lightly to keep hair from falling into oppa's food, erased Sima Bu from her mind, and gazed back at oppa.
How could such a kind, wonderful oppa come from that hypocrite? A mystery.
Her heart raced at the fact that she shared blood with her beloved oppa.
Yes—they alone were the true Sima heirs, bound by the thick, unbreakable thread of crimson blood.
The last male and female wolves of the pack.
This was fate.
Her beautiful red eyes, fixed only on Mancheon, burned—redder, hotter.