Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Price of Standing
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While Ssaga was at Etbrook's only general store, selling off beast hides, horns, and teeth, Hwan-in was up in the inn's second-floor room, scrutinizing the wraith clinging to Isilite.
"......"
Isilite had been frozen in place for thirty minutes now, matching Hwan-in's utter silence. She grit her teeth, forcibly holding back her body as it tried to twist into motion.
Acting all prim and proper didn't suit her at all, but her master—to-be was examining the wraith.
She had to show him the proper respect.
Hwan-in paid her rigid demeanor no mind whatsoever. His eyes were locked solely on the wraith draped over Isilite's shoulder.
'Strange.'
Blink, blink.
The wraith blinked back at him, meeting his gaze—a centaur girl who looked about nine years old.
The only other wraith Hwan-in had ever seen was Yulkam's, so he had no real benchmark to tell if this one's interactive behavior was normal or not.
Yulkam's wraith had only ever glared at Lukil, the man who'd killed it—no matter what Hwan-in did nearby, or even if other villagers from Yulkam were around.
But this wraith girl in front of him? She watched him when he drew close.
Wave a staff or anything in front of her face, and she'd track it with her eyes, reaching out like she wanted to touch.
Tell her mentally to come here, and she'd shrink back a little, shaking her head like she hated the idea.
He'd considered forcing her with his pull, but who knew what might happen if he did.
"Really nothing at all comes to mind?"
=Yes...... Even if I'm dumb, my memory's not bad. I remember every face of the people I've killed.=
"But you've never seen this face before."
=Yes.=
The first time he'd sketched the wraith's face and shown it to her, Isilite hadn't recognized a thing.
Her comprehension might be a bit slow, but her memory was sharp enough to call exceptional. She truly had no clue.
"......"
It was a dead end from the jump.
Hwan-in, perched on the edge of the bed, beckoned Isilite over and had her sit so her left shoulder faced her. Then he addressed the wraith girl.
"Can you understand what I'm saying? If so, nod for me."
......
The wraith girl gave a faint nod.
No telling if his supernatural ability had leveled up or if this wraith was just special, but he kept firing questions anyway.
Do you know Isilite? (Nod.)
Are you stuck to her because you hate her? (Shake.)
Do you want her dead? (Shake shake shake!)
Do you like her? (Nod.)
Do you want something? (......)
Do you know you're dead? (Nod.)
When did you die? (......)
Is there anyone you hate? (......)
Do you want to stay with Isilite? (Nod.)
Any plans to leave her? (Shake.)
......
......
......
Do you know you're a wraith? (......)
Hwan-in watched the wraith girl as her eyes dropped, sweeping his fallen bangs back in a slick motion.
Then he let out a small sigh.
'No answers here.'
She was clinging on because she wanted to stay together. No hatred for Isilite, no intention of going anywhere else.
He'd cut the questions short after that last one because her expression had clouded over dramatically. No sense poking the wraith and risking some emotional outburst triggering who-knows-what.
"We'll stop here for today."
=Okay......=
Isilite was dying to ask how it went, but she remembered her weary look—and Ssaga's warning not to pry first—so she clamped her mouth shut.
If there's anything I need to know, Master will tell me. With that thought, she started loosening her stiff posture to leave when Hwan-in called her back.
"I'd like to hear your old story."
=......My past?=
"Yeah. It's just my hunch, but that wraith acts like she's known you forever."
Her face pinched slightly at the notion of the wraith having haunted her for ages.
"To figure out why she's attached to you. Where you were born, how you lived—tell me everything you remember."
=......=
Isilite hesitated a moment before dipping her head and beginning to unravel her history.
=I was born in some small northern city. No idea who my parents were. Abandoned right after birth.=
Hwan-in's eyes narrowed at the heavy opener.
=Grew up in the slums, so all I learned was stealing and begging. As a baby, I got lucky with a kind beggar woman's milk. Once I could move, I was out begging.=
Once she got a bit older, the beggar woman who'd raised her froze to death under a filthy stone bridge one winter. That's when Isilite fell in with another gang of beggars.
From then on, it was begging plus scavenging, pickpocketing, scams, lookout duty—and beatings for screw-ups, barely scraping by a meal.
She'd spent every grueling day wondering why she had to live like that, multiple times a day.
=Just a block down a wider street, kids my age had clean clothes, good food—way better than me. But I got beaten half to death and starved for the tiniest slip-ups.=
Beatings so bad they'd break bones and leave her crippled—which the gang said was great for begging. No end to the brutality.
Then at twelve, she got swept up in a bloody turf war between her alley gang and some new crew—bones snapping, blood flying. She just ran for her life and stumbled onto a dead mercenary's blood-smeared greatsword.
The reason she'd grabbed it? Nothing fancy. Solid iron—maybe she could pawn it to some alley hag for a scrap of bread.
"That's when you awakened as a Sword Warrior."
=Yeah. That power got me through the turf war alive. Almost all the kids my age or younger died. That's when I swore I didn't want to die like that. I ditched the alleys, tailed a merchant caravan to another village blind. Joined a third-rate merc band—they took anyone with strength.=
The band was a total mess, everything arbitrary and fist-ruled, but perfect timing: a faction war between small cities meant jobs galore and manpower short.
Eight years as a war merc there—picked up martial skills, riding, letters, how the world worked. She survived till the war's end, saved up, went independent, and formed her own band.
=As a jobholder—even if ragtag—not hard to recruit. Even lured a few errand boys from that old band.=
But the world wasn't kind. Despite her rough upbringing, Isilite had zero street smarts.
Clients saw her as easy pickings, stiffing her on half the pay as routine. Mid-job beefs led to her paying damages more than once.
The earnings from eight years rolling in battlefields vanished into band expenses in a blink.
Finally, after one client stiffed her pay and even eyed her body while she guarded his caravan, she lopped his head off and her band seized every valuable they could. That's how Isilite's Merc Band turned bandit crew.
They realized banditry paid better and was way easier than sweating as mercs.
After that, things clicked.
The ten-man band ballooned past thirty post-changeover, they somehow scored some good horses, slipped bribes to local guards, and hustled so hard their gear outclassed their merc days.
? Boss should've awakened as a bandit, not Sword Warrior, right? Kehihihi.
Her underlings joked like that right to her face—the band was thriving.
They split ops into ten zones, rotated randomly by season; even kept tabs on subjugation squads and their rep.
Truth be told, Isilite's Band was barely bandits.
Trained like proper mercs, pay splits like proper mercs.
More like a merc band wearing bandit skin to break laws.
Then they went and killed some cocky, fearless tigerkin pureblood. The band relocated four thousand kilometers and switched hunting grounds.
=And on the first day of business, I met Master.=
"......"
Hwan-in pinpointed the likeliest spot in her tale where the wraith could've latched on.
No way a friendly wraith during merc gigs or banditry—so if anywhere, it had to be then.
But...
'Wraiths aren't just born from grudges.'
If his guess from the wraith's reactions and her story held, this wraith girl's transformation stemmed not from resentment, but regret.
Thoughts straight, he showed the drawing to Isilite—still kneeling.
"Think hard. Not recent stuff—before your awakening. No girl who looked like this around?"
=......=
Hwan-in eyed the wraith as Isilite scowled, digging through memories.
'Lua's soul was pristine, unlike her mangled corpse. So then...'
He tweaked the sketch some more.
Wild, unkempt hair. Gaunt cheeks whittled down further, dark hollows under eyes. Face grimed up.
A beggar girl's portrait—years of scavenging and pleading. He showed Isilite, already sure she wouldn't need to say it.
Her face twisted like the sky was crashing down.
=A-Avet...=
The instant the name left her lips, the wraith girl floated idly through the air to hover right in front of Isilite.
=Mas-Master. Is that really Avet on my shoulder?=
"She's right in front of you now."
=...!=
Isilite whipped her head forward, but all she saw was the small wooden room—nothing like her desperate hope.
Her expression crumpled bit by bit until she broke into gut-wrenching sobs.
=A...vet. Avet... I'm sorry, Avet... I was the only one who ran, the only one who lived...=
She clutched the sketch to her chest, tears pouring as she kept apologizing to the girl. Avet, with a gentle look, carefully stroked Isilite's head.
"Avet doesn't resent you. See? She's stroking your head with that soft expression right now."
=But, but you said she's a wraith. Wraiths are...=
"Not every wraith's boiling with hate and grudges. In Avet's case, it's more like lingering regret. She wants to see you live well."
Avet beamed and nodded as if to confirm. The heartbreaking part? That smile didn't feel purely innocent.
By Isilite's own account, the wraith had been stuck to her for around twenty years. Living vicariously through her? No way it'd stayed pure.
=Aah...=
Hwan-in spoke to the sobbing Isilite's wraith—Avet.
"Avet, it's time for you to ascend."
=No way! Avet, you can't ascend!!=
She flailed her arms like she could grab the invisible Avet. Hwan-in watched her with flat, emotionless eyes before slamming his foot down hard—thud.
Isilite jolted to a halt at the sound and vibration. He turned to her.
"How old are you this year?"
=T-Twenty-nine...=
"Even if you parted at twelve, that's seventeen years gone. No clue how souls work in this land, but a normal one lingering in the mortal world that long? Turning earthbound or evil spirit wouldn't be weird."
=...!!=
"Exhibit A: Avet doesn't resent or hate you, yet she became a wraith anyway. When was the last time you touched an Ilail flower?"
=...Th-Three years ago, passed an Ilail field once. She was... fine then...=
Tears streamed anew as she spoke. Isilite got it now too. Avet had clung so long she'd turned wraith...
Hwan-in weighed his options. If he was doing it, now was the moment—the mood was set. But would it work? Fail, and ascension would only get tougher.
He decided to roll the dice. Worst case, force a dissipation.
"Avet. You stuck by Isilite's side all this time because you were worried about her stupidly stubborn, easily duped personality, right?"
Avet's eyes flew wide, like he'd read her mind—called it, Hwan-in pressed on.
"You could've ascended anytime, but didn't... couldn't, because this idiot ditched the merc life, failed to chase her own happiness, and turned to banditry instead."
Avet gave a small nod, her face shifting to something expectant.
Hwan-in glanced at Isilite—now openly bawling—and made her vow.
"I promise to keep her in line so she never pulls any more moronic stunts. Can't guarantee it, but I'll even help her snag a guy she likes, get married, live happy."
=Hnnngh...=
"So for her sake too, ascend already."
It'll be good for you, and you don't want some wraith-induced disaster crashing down on her, do you?
......
Just like that, Avet's soul shifted—from red, draining like water pulled away, straight to blue.
'Blue?'
Shock at the unseen hue was fleeting. Avet glided forward, taking his hand.
'...Lend a little power?'
How? A beat of thought, then—instead of drawing in dual ki like for focus—he willed it outward from his palm.
He felt Warm Ki flowing from his hand into Avet.
"...!"
=Avet? Avet!=
With the Warm Ki absorbed, her form became visible—Isilite charged in, tears flying. No solidity, though; she phased right through Avet and flattened Hwan-in onto the bed like a ragdoll.
"......"
=Ah, ahh.=
Shock sucked her tears right up—Isilite floundered back in a panic, tumbling off the bed to the floor.
A flicker of irritation crossed Hwan-in, but Avet first. He resumed channeling Warm Ki into her still-clasped hand.
Avet greeted him with a smile, then turned to Isilite.
=Hnnngh... I'm sorry, it's all my fault...=
=But if we'd run together back then...=
Avet cut her off bluntly—no mercy, time's up—but dissolving slowly from the toes. Isilite bit her lip, face brimming with tears, and waited for her words.
=I will! I will!=
Her voice cracked with sobs. Avet reached out, stroking her cheek with a look of sisterly worry.
Like she hated leaving such an unreliable sis behind for ascension.
=Y-Yeah... yeah...!=
Her final plea-not-plea to Isilite delivered, Avet turned to Hwan-in—now just upper body left—and pressed her lips to her forehead.
It tingled like power surged through the kiss. Her blue hue drained away like receding water, shifting to the grayish white of a normal soul.
He touched the spot as Avet—oxidizing to light from the neck down in a flash...
=Aveeeet...!=
...left Isilite one last small smile before crumbling into sparkling dust and vanishing.