The Price of the Prophet
Lee Se-hwa, who had been screaming her lungs out, suddenly rolled her eyes back, convulsed violently, then lost consciousness and collapsed right there. Do Myeong-jun shed tears onto the extinguished candle, muttering something over and over. Seong Yu-da caught her and gazed down at her face. With her eyes closed in unconsciousness, she looked impossibly serene—like she couldn't possibly be the same person who'd been shrieking moments before.
"……."
Seong Yu-da scooped her up and rose to his feet. Do Myeong-jun was still out of it, collapsed on the floor and sobbing. He glanced at him briefly, then carried Lee Se-hwa out of the worship hall.
Blood was still trickling from her ears. Seong Yu-da knew he had to get her to a hospital before he could even begin to make sense of what had happened.
Outside, snow had piled up unnoticed. His footsteps crunched softly with every step. Whether from the weight of carrying her or sheer exhaustion, his gait was unsteady. But he didn't fall. No matter how drained he felt, he toed the ground with grim determination to stay upright.
Seong Yu-da laid her down on the bench where he'd paused to rest on the way up. He sat beside her and peered at her face. Still serene. Her pale lips, ashen skin, and utterly still expression made her look like a corpse. He held a hand to her nose—thankfully, she was still breathing.
He stood again, picked her up, and kept walking. Midway, his vision blurred. Tears. With no one to wipe them away and no way to do it himself while carrying her, he just let them flow.
Finally, he reached the parking spot.
"Ah……."
His car was buried under a mound of mud and gravel. A landslide from the raging storm had crushed it. No way it was drivable.
Seong Yu-da abandoned the car and walked on foot. He trudged the distance that might take half an hour—or hours—without a second thought.
*
Lee Se-hwa regained consciousness that same day. The doctor said the bleeding from her eyes was due to a sudden spike in intraocular pressure, and while they couldn't pinpoint the ear bleeding, there were no visible external or internal injuries, so she could be discharged immediately.
"……You okay?"
Seong Yu-da asked her. He had no idea what exactly had happened to her. The doctor said she was fine, but there could be lingering aftereffects that medicine couldn't detect.
Lee Se-hwa nodded calmly, even smiling. "Yeah, I feel perfectly fine."
"……."
Instead of relief, Seong Yu-da felt doubt. When she'd met Do Myeong-jun, she'd flailed at empty air and screamed endlessly. Blood from her eyes and ears, then collapse. For someone who'd been through that, her reaction was far too casual.
He stared at her. She tilted her head, puzzled by his gaze. "What?"
"……Really okay?"
"Huh? Yeah…… I really feel nothing. Sorry for worrying you."
She smiled brightly. Was she truly fine? Or just pretending? Watching her nonchalance, Seong Yu-da felt relief mixed with unease, discomfort, and a vague sense of wrongness. Even he, who wasn't directly involved, hadn't shaken off the shock. Her composure felt off.
"So, how'd I end up collapsing? Did I just suddenly drop?"
Seong Yu-da's face hardened.
"You don't remember?"
"Huh? Remember what?"
She looked genuinely clueless. He stared at her. She'd lost her memory. But he couldn't tell how much or from when to when. And honestly, it was probably better forgotten.
Seong Yu-da squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. "……Nah, nothing."
He decided to drop it, discharged her, and drove her home. His car at the mountain base was totaled, but he had plenty of others.
On the way back to his own place, he got out early and walked a bit. He gazed at the night sky, then stood still, clasped his hands, closed his eyes, and prayed. That she'd remember nothing. That nothing more would happen to her. That she truly felt nothing. That the day's events meant nothing at all. He prayed over and over.
But the next day, early morning before he'd fully woken, a call came from Lee Se-hwa. Could he come right away?
Seong Yu-da threw on some clothes and rushed to her.
"Aaaahhh—!"
The moment he entered her house, there she was—crumpled on the floor, screaming. Lee Jin-seong hovered anxiously nearby.
Seong Yu-da approached. When he touched her shoulder, she flinched violently and swatted his hand away. She looked up at him.
"Yu-da sunbae. Voices— I keep hearing voices. Weird ones……!"
"It's okay. It'll pass soon. You'll be fine…… okay……."
He held her as he spoke, his lips trembling. She shuddered, muttering strange things. Voices wouldn't stop, she said. They kept talking to her; plugging her ears didn't help. Only screaming drowned them out.
Voodoo-induced auditory hallucinations, Seong Yu-da thought. She'd always been sensitive to sounds.
He bit his fingers while holding her and drew a Purification Blessing circle. A special blessing exclusive to the Purification Clan—the only power that could heal those afflicted by black magic or voodoo.
The blessing's light enveloped her.
"Still hearing them?"
"Yes, nonstop. Nonstop. Ah, ah. Aaaahhh……!"
But nothing changed. Her hoarse screams lacked even strength.
Seong Yu-da stared at her. He wanted to say something—anything—but words failed him. His heart felt like it was sinking endlessly in water, suffocating.
"……I'll call an exorcist."
"It's not that. Not…… ah, ah……."
Seong Yu-da was helpless. She trembled on. He couldn't even touch her properly, afraid she'd shatter. The Purification Blessing had done nothing. He could do nothing.
Then why had he prayed last night? What was the point of becoming a cleric……?
Despair soaked him.
His phone rang—an unknown number. He answered, hoping it was Do Myeong-jun.
"……."
Unexpected news: he'd finally passed the heretic inquisitor exam, after endless failures. The voice on the line congratulated him.
Lee Se-hwa, collapsed before him, was still screaming hoarsely.
*
That day, Seong Yu-da had to leave her for the heretic inquisitor promotion ceremony. Not without arranging everything—he mobilized every contact he and the Purification Clan had, summoning exorcists and healers to her house before going.
After that, no word from Lee Se-hwa. He'd checked her place—it was empty, like she'd moved. At the Central Priest Order, he heard she'd abandoned enlistment.
He recalled her beaming smile upon passing the exam.
"……."
He cut ties with almost everyone, burying himself in work. Heretic inquisitors were busy: slaying demons and beasts, quelling cultist unrest. Paladin duties plus inquisitor tasks—it was expected.
But Seong Yu-da pushed harder. He took every job, big or small. At home, he studied relentlessly: Purification Blessings, voodoo, the Voodoo Cult. And tracked Lee Se-hwa's whereabouts.
Someday, he'd find a cure. He believed it.
When his demon kills hit triple digits, beast kills quadruple. When his scribbled papers on voodoo became Central Priest Order research material. When they called him a leader of the paladins' "golden age".
"……Sorry."
Do Myeong-jun came to his private office.
"Yu-da."
"……."
Seong Yu-da couldn't speak at the abrupt apology. Words wouldn't come.
Because beside Do Myeong-jun stood the woman he'd desperately sought: Lee Se-hwa.
He stared at her face for a long time. Still beautiful as ever. That only fueled his rage.
He bit his lower lip until it bled to hold it back.
"……Long time. No warning again."
"Sorry. Always dropping in like this."
"Se-hwa."
Tap, tap. Seong Yu-da drummed his fingers on the desk. Irritated. He knew nothing. What happened to her that day. What Do Myeong-jun had been doing. Why they were together now.
"……What happened?"
"Se-hwa became the Voodoo Cult's prophet because of that."
Do Myeong-jun continued, face conflicted. "I was performing the succession rite. You burst in, so the Loa chose her instead."
"……."
"She wasn't ready…… I had to take her. As the cult leader, the one meant to be prophet."
His explanation wasn't kind, but it sufficed. What he'd been doing. Why she'd gone mad. Why she'd vanished without a word.
Everything but one crucial thing.
"Couldn't tell me?"
"No time then."
Do Myeong-jun bowed his head. "……That's why I said sorry."
He kept his head low, ashamed. Lee Se-hwa too.
Seong Yu-da eyed them alternately. Blood filled his mouth from his bitten lip. His molars itched; he ground his teeth with a crunch.
Bloodshot eyes glaring, he spoke. "Se-hwa…… when she passed the Central Priest Order exam. You know how happy she was?"
"……No."
Chin. Seong Yu-da stood and grabbed Do Myeong-jun's collar.
"You bastard. You stole her life."
"Wasn't my choice."
"Your choice or not, that's not my—!"
He yelled, gripping tighter. Do Myeong-jun met his gaze steadily. They stared silently, intensely.
Seong Yu-da saw fury in Do Myeong-jun's eyes—fiercer than he'd ever witnessed.
Do Myeong-jun gripped his wrist. "Me too."
"……What?"
"Mine was stolen too. Or rather, I wasn't chosen. It was supposed to be me. If you say I stole hers, fine. But."
He smirked. "You left her for your promotion. Pot calling the kettle black?"
Bam! Seong Yu-da's fist slammed the desk. A massive crack spiderwebbed the glass behind.
"Shut up."
"Stop."
Lee Se-hwa intervened. Silent till now, she rose and clasped Seong Yu-da's hand on Do Myeong-jun's collar. Her hand was cold.
He released him and looked at her, expression hollow.
"……Sorry, Yu-da sunbae."
Arms limp, he watched her. She used polite speech to keep distance from everyone a bit—or so she'd said once. Casual with Do Myeong-jun, polite with him.
While he'd chased her trail to cure her, they'd grown close.
What had all his frantic work been for?
"Get out. Both of you."
He glared murderously. They left the office.
Seong Yu-da sat. The room felt empty. Heretic inquisitor commission, papal thanks on the shelf—meaningless now.
Thud. He smashed his forehead on the desk.
"Ah, haha……."
He bashed it repeatedly, laughing madly. Blood trickled from his brow, pooling in the crack, spreading across the desk.
(To be continued)