Chapter 161
Chapter 161
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 161
Chapter Title: The Merchant
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-Clackety-clack
After parting ways with Yeo So-cheon, I climbed aboard the merchant's carriage and set off for the Demonic Cult.
The journey had been shortened some, but it would still be weeks of rattling along in boredom, so I'd picked up a few books nearby to read along the way...
"...These might not last the whole trip, huh?"
"Just say the word when you finish 'em. I'll lend you some of mine."
"You got some too?"
"Try spending years riding alone, not saying a word to anyone, just staring at endless empty plains... You'll start losing your mind."
"...Ah."
"It's not total wasteland or anything—stuff pops up now and then—but it's basically empty land with hardly any people. Villages are few and far between..."
I gazed into her somewhat vacant eyes and silently offered my condolences.
"The contract was half-forced on me, but it's nice traveling with someone for once. Chatting like this in the carriage... It's been ages."
"...Why not find a travel companion?"
"I'd love to if I could! Problem is, finding someone in the same boat ain't easy."
"Same boat?"
"Yeah. Can't drag some random person with no ties to the Demonic Cult into this mess. Who knows when they'd stick a knife in your back and sell you to the Murim Alliance?"
...Fair point.
Come to think of it, trading with the Demonic Cult didn't sound like a walk in the park.
"Then wouldn't plain old trading in the Central Plains be way better?"
"You know one side but not the other. Old merchant saying: greater the risk, greater the reward. Sure, getting caught spells disaster, but purely from a business angle? Hard to beat the Demonic Cult as a trading partner. They pay top coin, and you don't have to sweat all the little details like in the Central Plains."
"...Really?"
"Which region's got the best crops... Where'd the disasters hit, jacking up or tanking prices... You gotta track all that to avoid losses. Easier said than done."
Now that she mentioned it, I remembered watching merchants I knew back in the day tearing their hair out over exactly that.
Being a merchant isn't just hauling goods and hawking them.
To chase bigger profits, you need smarts—and one slip-up lands you bankrupt, drowning in debt, life ruined in a blink.
Running my fortune-telling shop, I'd dealt with plenty of those types and suffered for it.
"So in that sense, this gig ain't half bad. Long as you don't get caught, just driving the cart and dropping off goods beats most merchants' earnings hands down."
"But if you do get caught... you die, right?"
"...Truth is, I already tanked once before and racked up debt. Gotta grind like this to pay it off before I kick the bucket."
"Oof..."
"Gotta marry before it's too late, too... Who'd wed a woman buried in debt? Whatever it takes, I need that money fast..."
She trailed off, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
...This woman had her own share of life's hardships, it seemed.
I'd figured someone dealing with the Demonic Cult must have some dramatic backstory, but this was more grounded than expected—kinda threw me.
The air turned awkwardly sympathetic for a moment, leaving us both at a loss for words.
"So, how'd you end up getting summoned to the Demonic Cult?"
"Me?"
"You're the only one here to chat with."
She suddenly took an interest in my situation and asked why I was headed there.
"Hmm... How do I put this..."
"No need if it's touchy. I just deliver you and collect my pay."
"Nah, it's not that. Uh... Guess you could say I'm too famous, so they summoned me."
"..."
The merchant whipped around with a look like I'd just cursed her lucky stars.
But hey, facts are facts. If I weren't notorious, they wouldn't bother calling me in the first place.
"They just want a fortune reading, more or less. No clue on the specifics."
"...Fortune telling?"
"You know—shake some wooden plaques, rattle off the future."
"Yeah... I know it... But isn't that total b.s... Whoops!"
She clapped a hand over her mouth mid-sentence, like she'd stepped in it, and shot me a wary glance.
Probably thought calling fortune-telling a scam would piss me off.
"I'm used to it. Don't sweat it."
"Oh! Wait, I've heard of you! The fortune teller hiding his face in a Bloodstained Cloak—somehow invisible from every angle! That nickname... Facele... uh..."
"Faceless Golden Ghost?"
"Yeah, that! Thought it was some merchant moniker at first, but a fortune teller? Kinda threw me."
"Eh... It fits the vibe, I guess."
Back when I got that nickname, I was pretty money-hungry, so pairing my faceless gimmick with "gold ghost" made sense.
Still don't care for it much, though.
"Huh, no wonder they shelled out gold ingots without batting an eye. Figured you weren't ordinary, but you're a big catch."
"..."
It wasn't money I'd earned, technically.
No point mentioning it came from my ladies—would sour the mood.
Bragging about splurging others' cash in front of someone risking her neck for debt? Nah.
"Oh yeah, heard about that too. Few months back, some fortune teller saves the Sword Empress's life, hands her the key to breaking through to the next realm—Central Plains lost its mind. That you?"
"...Sharp memory."
"Impossible to forget. Job makes you sensitive to info... After that, you dropped off the map. Kidnapping rumors flew. Never dreamed it'd be Demonic Cult connections."
"...Huh?"
"Who you off to see? Bigwig? Division leader? Elder? Not the Cult Leader, right? Even for you, that'd be a stretch... Leader trains martial arts all day—elders barely see him two, three times a year. No way he'd meet an outsider casually. Gotta be an elder or division head... Third Elder was into that stuff, I think..."
...She'd gotten the wrong idea.
Made it sound like I had ongoing ties with the Demonic Cult.
"I only got the letter recently... First time going."
"Oh... Gotcha."
She sounded oddly disappointed.
"So just a one-and-done visit?"
"Probably. Unless I get kidnapped or something."
"..."
"...Why the silence?"
"Can't exactly say 'no kidnapping risk' to my paying customer..."
"..."
Maybe suggest turning back now?
"C'mon, they summon you and then kidnap? Bad for their rep."
"...They got more rep to trash?"
"...Hey! Even the bottom has a bottom! Risk that, and no one'd come next time."
"...Worth it for someone like me, though?"
"...Er."
"Cat got your tongue? Say something."
"Good luck...?"
After that, we rode on in heavy silence, no more words between us.
"Flora, behold this!"
"...?"
Sword Flora.
Once known by the moniker Sword Flower, she turned at the sound of Barshutain calling her name, sword still mid-swing.
And there she was, arms spread wide, sleeves gripped, proudly displaying an outfit she'd never worn before.
"What is that getup?"
"...Does it not suit me?"
"It suits you fine... It's just the clothes..."
A style she'd never laid eyes on.
It vaguely resembled Central Plains garb but felt off. Definitely nothing she'd seen in her living days.
No—this wasn't Central Plains style at all...
'Looks like something from across the sea...?'
A faint memory surfaced from illustrations of her past master—the enemy she'd gladly tear apart now.
Couldn't recall the name.
"...Doesn't look like Central Plains clothes."
"Hm? You think not?"
"Where'd you even get it...?"
"Stumbled upon it by chance. Liked the design, so I tried it on. Just now realizing it's not local style. Looked the part to me."
Barshutain said as much, then lounged back against his jade throne.
Come to think of it, Barshutain and his underlings all struggled to adapt to Central Plains ways.
Even after learning her name was Han So-yeon, some mangled it to So-yehan on their own...
Part of why Barshutain called her Flora: hanja were a pain to pronounce.
'From my view, your name's the weirder one.'
She eyed him pouring red liquor into an oddly shaped goblet, sipping from his throne.
She'd pointed out it wasn't local garb, but he showed no sign of changing.
"Not gonna switch it out?"
"Burned my old clothes already. No clinging to the past—that's my rule."
"Did you have to burn them...?"
"Eh, was gonna torch 'em anyway, separate issue. Figure it's about time I stepped out for some sunlight."
"...!"
His mention of surfacing soon made her grip tighten on her sword instinctively.
Since dying and reviving—imbued with his blood, wielding this strange power—she'd grown quite accustomed to it.
Stronger by several-fold than in her living days, she could confidently claim.
But...
'Master...'
-Crunch
Against that woman, victory wasn't assured.
As a cocky child reveling in rapid martial progress, she'd once whined until her master showed her a strike brimming with true skill.
Had begged through childish tantrums despite her reluctance, finally witnessing it.
[-Shwaaack]
[Someday, you must surpass this realm.]
A single swing dislodging snow from plum trees atop the opposite peak—a feat she could replicate with her current power?
"..."
-Crunch
'Still...'
Too far off.
To wrest Yuseong from that damned woman's grasp.
She needed far greater power.
By any means necessary.