Chapter 134
Chapter 134
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 134
Chapter Title: Great King Namsaeng
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"What, what is this!"
I jolted upright in shock, but it was one step too late. A palace guard who had removed the wing ornament from his helmet stabbed me in the lower abdomen. It looked like the tip had been sharpened to a deadly edge.
"Urk!"
The pain hit me as fiercely as the time in high school when a bully punched me in the gut. The guard yanked out the bloodied helmet ornament and aimed for my throat.
"No!"
In that instant, the jujutsu techniques I'd learned in the modern world kicked in instinctively. I grabbed his wrist and twisted it back against itself. The assassin lost his balance and toppled sideways, swinging the helmet wing wildly even as he fell, slicing my forearm and thigh. Blood sprayed across the walls and pillars, and in the midst of it all, I saw Yi Maengjin collapse to the floor, trembling against the wall.
"Master!"
Geom Mojam, who had been at the entrance, drew his sword and charged in, slashing the guard diagonally with a single stroke. Flesh parted with a sickening schwick, and blood spurted out. The guard pitched forward and crumpled on top of me.
"Ugh!"
I lost my balance and fell, a sharp pain exploding in my back and head. Fortunately, Geom Mojam shoved the corpse aside right away.
"Are you all right?"
My head spun wildly. I tried to force out a reply, but blood surged up my throat. Seeing it, Geom Mojam glared ferociously at Yi Maengjin, who was shaking uncontrollably against the wall.
"You traitor! And to think the Master cherished you so."
Geom Mojam raised his bloodied sword. In that moment, I finally managed to shout.
"No! Stop."
"But Master! This man brought an assassin."
"He brought him without knowing. Put away your sword."
In truth, Yi Maengjin's eyes hadn't turned red. That meant he clearly had no idea the guard he'd brought with him would attempt murder. Even after hearing me, Geom Mojam hesitated to sheathe his blade. Clutching my bloodied abdomen, I shook my head. Seeing that, he lowered his sword and approached me. He took off his jeogori and wrapped it around my lower belly. Blood seeped from the gash with every breath, but as the bleeding slowed somewhat and I grew numb to the pain, drowsiness washed over me. Once the emergency treatment was done, Geom Mojam said,
"I'll, I'll fetch a physician."
"There are men outside keeping watch on Dongtae. Don't make a fuss—bring him quietly. And inform Father discreetly."
"Understood. I'll clean up and atone with my life."
I knew what he meant and was horrified.
"I forbid it. Don't you dare."
"How can I overlook the sin of letting the Master come to such harm?"
"I'm in agony here—stop making me talk and just get the physician quietly."
"Yes."
Geom Mojam wiped away tears and cracked open the door to Binyang Pavilion, calling for a subordinate. After issuing instructions, he shut and barred the door again. He returned to me, checked the wound once more, and shot a glare at Yi Maengjin. The man, looking utterly soul-lost, pleaded desperately.
"I knew nothing. I swear it. Nothing at all."
Geom Mojam just glared with furious eyes. Moments later, a knock sounded at the door. Geom Mojam rushed over, peeked out, and let only the physician in. The startled healer hesitated, but Geom Mojam seized his arm roughly.
"No fuss—treat the Master. If anything goes wrong, we'll both pay with our lives."
"I, I understand."
The middle-aged physician hurried over and examined my blood-soaked abdomen. Pain surged up from my belly with every breath. He carefully removed my stained jeogori, his face twisting in dismay.
"Your lower abdomen is torn open."
"H-how bad?"
"About one and a half to two inches. Looks like your internals are damaged too. I'll suture it for now."
"My arm and thigh got cut too."
"I'll check those as well. Try to relax."
His calm words eased my mind a bit. The pain was still intense, but amid it, urgent tasks flooded my thoughts. Sweating coldly, I looked to Geom Mojam. Guessing my intent, he approached.
"What are your orders?"
"Call in my close aides. Send word to Go Jeong-ui too—have him come right after the funeral rites. Above all, this mustn't spread outside. Especially not to my two younger brothers."
"Of course."
"The men watching Dongtae mustn't suspect."
"Shall I eliminate them all?"
"No. That would tip them off that we're hiding something. Just keep them under surveillance."
"Yes."
"Have Father tell my wife. Don't alarm her."
"Understood."
"Yi Maengjin knew nothing, so don't punish him. Dispose of the body discreetly and search it for clues."
Geom Mojam lifted his head and glared savagely at Yi Maengjin, who still hadn't recovered his wits. But he nodded.
"As you command."
A heavy pounding came at the door of Binyang Pavilion. Geom Mojam went over, peeked, and opened it. Father Yeon Gaesomun entered, his face ashen. True to his seasoned nature, he didn't shout but strode quickly to my side, asking Geom Mojam,
"How is he?"
"Still conscious. The physician says he'll suture the wound."
Yeon Gaesomun knelt right beside me and looked down.
"You holding up?"
"I'll manage, Father."
Only then did Father Yeon Gaesomun exhale the breath he'd been holding. He gripped my hand tightly. Feeling that warmth, I blacked out.
As consciousness faded, fragments of my modern life flashed by. The joy of finishing my first novel evaporated in an instant. Under comments saying it was boring and they were dropping it, replies called even that a waste. Then darkness returned.
The world seemed to hate me; no one cared. I tried hard, but it only felt like sinking deeper into quicksand. The life I'd confessed to National Academy Scholar Lee Mun-jin not long before his death—that era was pure darkness. As my mind slipped away into oblivion, fear gripped me. Not of dying, but of returning to that previous life. Desperately, I cried out.
"I'm not Yeon Taehwan—I'm Yeon Namsaeng! Yeon Namsaeng!"
After the darkness came the abyss. It felt like floating in deep, murky water. Drifting like a ghost through pale shadows, scenes from my past life swirled around me. Childhood memories: getting scolded by Father for reading comics instead of studying; being chased out barefoot after Mother berated me for bad exam scores.
'I was barefoot then.'
I recalled wiggling my toes and sobbing pitifully. School days were an abyss of darkness too. I was the bread shuttle for the delinquents, their sandbag whenever they were bored or upset.
'No money to offer, so I paid with my body.'
Bad at studies and sports, I was utterly invisible at school. Teachers ignored my bruised face as I sat there. My only escape was writing. Inspired by webtoons, I wrote something similar and got decent praise. That's when I started seriously. I read web novels on the sly, holed up in the school library devouring books. Parents nagged about ignoring studies for novels, but I held on.
'Without that, I really couldn't have endured.'
Social life mirrored school. Failure and frustration shadowed me; my cherished dream of novel-writing meant nothing. After repeated setbacks, I somehow ended up here. Dreams became reality, reality a dream. Painful, heartbreaking moments passed, and the abyss returned.
'So lonely.'
Then, light in the distance. Struggling to turn my head, I saw my wife, looking around as if searching for me. I shouted.
"Honey! I'm here! Honey!"
But she didn't see me, just kept scanning. I yelled at the top of my lungs, but it seemed she couldn't hear.
"Damn it!"
I reached out to grab her, but my body felt impossibly heavy, immobile. Meanwhile, tears streaming down her face, she wandered, brushing past me. She was clearly looking for me but couldn't see. I screamed and thrashed with all my might, but she passed by without noticing.
"Please!"
Despair hit—like my whole life. Always failing, missing chances. All I could do was childish whining and complaints. Though transmigrated, I'd shouldered the tragic fall of Goguryeo responsibly.
"This is my life. My true life!"
Amid agony like my body exploding, I cried to my receding wife.
"Honey!"
Miraculously, she turned. Seeing her tear-streaked face, consciousness returned.
"Gasp!"
My breath burst out like surfacing from deep water. Beams overhead, the ceiling, faces peering down came into view. Panting raggedly, someone pressed a water-soaked cloth to my lips. I bit gently, and moisture seeped in. I wanted more water, but abdominal pain garbled my words. Biting the cloth, I saw the physician, looking decades older.
"Good, you're conscious again."
Sighs of relief, groans, laments mingled around me. Father Yeon Gaesomun beside the physician also looked aged in that time.
"Feeling better now?"
Still unable to speak, I nodded. Glancing around, I realized this was Binyang Pavilion. Subordinates sat exhausted everywhere. Yi Taein especially looked like he'd barely survived. My wife wept silently at my right bedside. I spat out the cloth and rasped,
"H-how long?"
Swallowing tears, my wife replied.
"Three days. You've been out for three days."
Go Jeong-ui stretched, as if just woken.
"Come on, Master—Grand Scholar's passing was hard enough. You really had to do this?"
His grumbling drew light laughs from the weary group. Breathing slowly, I adjusted to the pain. The needle-like stabs gradually dulled. Seeing this, the physician cautioned gently.
"You've only just woken. No straining yourself."
I nodded instead of speaking. Then Yang Manchun, at my feet, spoke in seething fury.
"Whoever did this to my friend—I won't forgive them. Not a single one."