Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: No Shelter Here
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The village of Lehil, situated along the road to Wayford, made it easy to understand why Yulkam was called a hamlet rather than a village.
Centered around a river flowing from west to east, it was densely packed with over three hundred households and a population exceeding a thousand, all enclosed by high stone walls.
The main road was a properly paved one laid with flat gravel, and surrounding it were jagged rocky mountains, vast rice paddies, fields, and forests. By Yulkam's standards, Lehil was more than worthy of being called a village.
'The villagers' clothes are neat and clean, too.'
Most folks in Yulkam wore patched-up garments with scraps of cloth sewn over the tears, but hardly anyone here did.
The houses were cleaner than in Yulkam as well. Yulkam mostly had simple log cabins made from roughly hewn whole logs, but Lehil featured properly processed timber homes, with even some stone buildings here and there.
"Hwan-in, we'll go sell the goods then. Please rest easy in your room."
Before entering the village, Ssa had asked Hwan-in to call him by name, so he now spoke it naturally as he bowed at the waist.
"Safe travels."
Hwan-in and Ssa's group had checked into a log inn that evoked a slightly classical yet modern vibe, with two stories.
Ssa headed straight to his regular buyer with Brillit, who was still recovering from the sparring aftermath, while Hwan-in trudged along with the zombie-like Isilite to the room Ssa had secured for her.
Even the inn room matched Hwan-in's modern standards remarkably well.
The logs seemed merely decorative on the outside; inside, it felt like a pristine wooden mansion with the rich, dark brown grain of processed timber fully exposed.
Passing through a somewhat narrow entrance led to a space about five pyeong in size.
Against the left wall stood what looked like a bunk bed, carved from an entire wall section.
The bed itself appeared smoothly polished after debarking the logs, connected by a vintage ladder made of small logs linking the upper and lower bunks.
"Hm."
He'd thought it was a bunk bed, but the upper part was for storing luggage.
He checked the lower bed, neatly covered with a cloth over a straw mattress, opened the large chest reinforced with iron bands to confirm it was empty, and eyed the candle lantern on the table.
Kue? Ku-uu. Kuruk.
Emergency Ration seemed pleased with the rug's texture, pacing on it before flopping down on its belly and letting out a satisfied coo.
Hwan-in propped his steel spear against the wall, unfastened the stone axe from his belt and set it on the table, then sat in a chair and gazed at the blankly standing Isilite.
"......"
"........."
'Were we the first guests today?'
The guards at Lehil's entrance post and gate showed no recognition of Isilite whatsoever.
No one who'd ever stolen anything could elicit that kind of reaction.
"Isilite."
"Wh-what...? Yes."
Hwan-in stared for a moment at Isilite, who started with informal speech but switched to polite, then asked,
"Why are you following me?"
"Because... you're the only one I can cling to......"
"I've never seen a soul admixture like yours before. I can't guarantee I can exorcise or purify it."
"I don't care. It's a hundred, a thousand times better than wandering aimlessly alone...... I'll follow you until I die, Soul Shaman... No, I will follow you."
"You think I'll allow that?"
At Hwan-in's reply, laced with utter annoyance, Isilite suddenly grasped her predicament perfectly.
Sure, she was an awakened Swordmaster, but to the soul master before her, she was utterly expendable.
If anything, she was a troublesome, irritating burden tainted by that admixture—not to mention, she'd tried to rob him.
Putting herself in his shoes, she couldn't fathom why he'd let her live.
He could drag her to some secluded spot and slit her throat, and she'd have no grounds to complain.
She'd pegged him as just a soul master, but he wielded insane martial prowess. His unidentified attacks were icing on the cake.
No matter her confidence in her physical defense, repeated axe blows would shred her flesh and snap her bones.
In a one-on-one, she'd snap like timber under a woodcutter's axe.
Feeling fear erode her heart, Isilite cast pride aside, dropped to her knees before Hwan-in, and slammed her forehead to the floor.
Thud, bang!
"I was wrong! I'm sorry! I'll do anything you say—just please spare my life!"
"......"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sor—!"
"You're noisy."
His emotionless voice froze her heart; Isilite trembled with her head still pressed to the floor.
Terror gripped her—the stone axe or spear tip could descend on her nape any second.
The silence stretched. As the mounting dread paralyzed her mind bit by bit, Hwan-in's voice descended like heavenly light, tickling her ears.
"I told you yesterday. You said you could serve for twenty years."
"Yes, yes! I'll serve for free! I'll lick your toes if you ask!"
"How can I trust that? You're a thief. There's no guarantee you won't betray me."
Her heart clenched again. Instinct screamed she had to answer this perfectly.
Truth be told, Isilite had considered it.
Work for two or three years, then slip away under cover of night.
Of course, she had no intent to harm him—lest the admixture return or she incur a soul's curse.
Wracking her brain desperately, Isilite soon thought of two ways to earn her trust.
Subjugation curse contract.
And unilateral subjugation curse contract.
The former created a relationship like employer and servant; the latter, master and slave.
Both were rank-5 dangerous curses prone to abuse, performable only by city administrators, with records shared across all cities.
Assuming a lofty soul master might not know of these obscure curses, Isilite hesitated.
Propose the former, or the latter?
The latter unnerved her, given Hwan-in's inscrutable nature and his occasional icy tone.
She might serve, get used up without purification, then discarded—or executed after twenty years.
Her body shuddered at the thought.
But suggesting the former could incur extra resentment if he learned of the latter...
Isilite felt wronged and furious—why her?
She'd lived honestly, avoiding innocent kills to enter the gods' garden after death. Why!
'Is this payback for the thefts I did as a kid to survive? If so, that's just too much...'
Tears welled, but she held back, speaking in a quavering voice.
"Th-there's a unilateral subjugation curse contract you can do at a city administrator's office. We can do that......"
Hwan-in fell silent at the unfamiliar system.
Administrator's office?? An institution for handling governance? A curse contract done there? Involving curses, probably magical binding—like enslavement?
He'd ask Ssa about this.
Knock knock knock.
[Hwan-in, it's Ssa. May I come in?]
"Come in."
"Hahaha! Thanks to you, Hwan-in, that Grenier pelt we barely saved sold for a fortune! The other goods fetched top prices too, so let me treat you toda—...?"
Ssa entered in high spirits, only to blink at Isilite kneeling before Hwan-in.
'Hm. Finally realized her place? Not the sharpest, but not hopeless.'
Reading Hwan-in's expression that it was no big deal, Ssa cheekily grabbed his arm and pulled.
"Come on, my treat again today. Let's head down. This inn's food and dancers are top-notch. Get there late, and no seats."
Thus, Ssa led Hwan-in downstairs with the porters and escorts in tow. Sensing Hwan-in had questions, he astutely ordered two tables.
"You lot sit separately—feels better, right? Order whatever, eat your fill. Booze approved."
"Woo~! Ssa's the best!"
"Thanks a ton!!"
Ssa sent the three porters and two escorts to their own table, then joined Hwan-in and Brillit at theirs, summoning a server to order heaps of food.
Meanwhile, Hwan-in surveyed the first-floor hall, now buzzing like a dinner show.
The roughly two-hundred-pyeong space brimmed with dozens of tables. One wall held a three-meter-high stage.
Ssa hadn't exaggerated about seats filling fast; as they sat, empty tables vanished rapidly.
In moments, hundreds packed in, creating a lively white noise amid delicious aromas wafting through.
"Oh, food's coming!"
The dishes that soon arrived justified Ssa's eager hand-rubbing anticipation.
Sweet-and-sour sauced roast bird as the main, followed endlessly by fruits and veggie sides.
And that wasn't all. Soon, a band struck up—four strings and percussion, quirky yet upbeat and lively, heating the mood.
In this fired-up atmosphere, a sudden roar drew eyes to the stage, where Hwan-in doubted his own vision.
'Can-can dance?'
Young, pretty girls like K-POP idols wore scandalously short skirts barely twenty centimeters from knee to hem, with plunging necklines exposing most of their cleavage, performing synchronized can-can-esque moves.
Each high kick flashing skimpy underwear drew roars and whistles from the men.
Their vigorous motions made breasts strain and jiggle from tops, stoking the heat further.
Hwan-in eyed the table's bounty with a grave face.
The roast bird, stuffed with fruits and veggies, resembled some nation's turkey dish.
This like egg rolls, that like steamed eggs. Salads were universal, but this...
'Miso? With sauerkraut-like pickles and something like seasoned cabbage.'
His gaze shifted back to the dancing servers.
Their wide splits revealed not pumpkin shorts like Yulkam lads wore, but palm-sized thongs or G-strings barely covering privates.
Plus cat garters cinching thighs, and glossy red enamel heels.
"Hwan-in?"
Turning at Ssa's voice, he saw concern etched on his face.
"Not your scene? If you don't like it, there's private rooms in back..."
"No, the lively, festive vibe suits me fine."
"Yes......"
"Really. Just surprised to see a culture like this here."
"Ah, really? I think I've heard that stage routine hails from some far-off land. From your country, Hwan-in?"
To be precise, French culture.
Hwan-in nodded vaguely and sampled the cabbage side.
"......"
A bit saltier, tangier, but definitely akin to seasoned cabbage. The miso was properly fermented from malt, no doubt.
Woooaaahhh!!
Another cheer erupted; he glanced at the stage.
Unlike before, a single woman in a sheer dress with pale green hair cascading down stood alone.
"Ooh! Galutien's turn today!"
'Hm? Those ears... A Ploi, then.'
Her ears were pointed and long. Petite face, delicate features, slender build—she checked every beauty box.
Soon, her falsetto softly filled the quieted hall.
Lyrics were standard love song fare, but her crystalline, high-octave voice hit its peak, unclogging Hwan-in's chest like a breath of fresh air.
'Never been to a dinner show, but it'd feel like this.'
Calmed by the Ploi woman's song, Hwan-in set aside his questions and quietly enjoyed the meal.
As the early evening show wrapped and light band tunes played, he humored Ssa's praises and kept chatting.
"Galutien, you said? Her voice was stunning."
"Right?! Man~ Professionally, I've glimpsed Ploi folk a few times, and their voices are nightingale-soft and sweet. Galutien's unmatched. I'd listen daily if I could, but..."
Galutien performed two or three times a month, only when inclined. Ssa lamented how merchants like him needed luck to catch it.
As they bantered over drinks and the table cleared, Hwan-in explained Isilite's room incident.
"She brought up the unilateral subjugation curse contract first? She must've been scared straight."
"Is that a solid enough binding?"
"Absolutely. 'Unilateral subjugation' is just a polite euphemism—it's slavery in all but name. Hard to break once sealed, which is why administrators oversee it."
Upon application, an administrator verifies mutual consent sans curses, then drafts and confirms the contract.
Costs matched a commoner's yearly living—prepaid, non-refundable even if canceled midway.
"What if terms are breached?"
"Willful or not, penalties hit hard. Mildly, curses cripple phase power or strip jobs, cause disabilities. Severely, death."
For professionals, that was; for normals, instant qi reversal meant death, Ssa explained.
Hwan-in frowned at the harshness; Ssa quickly clarified.
"That's standard subjugation. Unilateral—for you as A-party, her as B—hits only B. But verification's stricter."
"I see. That works then."
A regular sorcerer might scream scam, but state oversight made it trustworthy.
"If you'd just said you'd take her in, I'd have trailed you days nagging against it."
"Would you?"
"Ex-thief boss, right? From our chats, she's not a casual liar, but trusting her with your back? Questionable."
Nodding to himself, Ssa glanced at the stairs, then smiled congratulatorily at Hwan-in.
"But with the contract, uses are endless. She's sturdy-built; with your skills, she makes a fine shield. Any contract terms in mind?"
"I'll layer safeguards against betrayal threefold. Nothing else particular."
Ssa voiced mild concern at the lax terms.
"Given her thief-lord nature, controlling food, clothes, shelter might be wiser..."
"Too tight a leash kills motivation. Plan to use as porter—don't want her slacking, drawing monsters, courting danger."
At mention of incentives for some drive in the terms, Ssa nodded approvingly.
He judges coldly sometimes, but Soul Shaman's a kind soul, Ssa mused mistakenly.
Others would squeeze her dry like marrow oil, yet he considered a slave's morale.
Ssa figured the admixture could prevent suicide too, but held back lest it sour his image.
"Isilite's got a generous master ahead. Haha."
Whether she agreed was debatable.