Regret Comes Too Late
Every time Shin-wol uttered a word, the old woman's body gave a violent flinch.
His indifferent, cruel statements carved into her chest like razor-sharp blades.
She shook her head like a woman who had lost her mind, muttering over and over that it was not true, that it could not be true.
The small sobs that had begun earlier now swelled into full-throated wails.
Yet there was no one anywhere who would sympathize with her tears.
Shin-wol had erected a barrier around the house so that none of this sound could leak outside.
It would never reach that far, but he had strengthened the barrier more than ever so that the old woman's cries would not travel all the way to Mount Inwol. So that they would not reach Yeo-won's ears and cause her pain.
The ruthless voice echoed through the dark room.
Its low resonance scraped at her very core, deep and razor-sharp.
The old woman's desperate resentment flowed into him. The utter misery of having lost her entire family in the span of a few years. The fact that the final destination of her homeless rage had become Yeo-won.
Yet he felt no pity.
This, too, was something she had brought upon herself, and every choice carried responsibility.
Her true responsibility began now.
A few minutes later, the sorrowful weeping changed into a thin, scraping rasp like metal on metal.
The hour hand of the clock pointed to twelve.
The old woman's eyes, bloodshot and red, collapsed to the floor with a thud. She clutched at her chest and writhed in agony.
"Huk, huk."
Her body twisted as she tried to crawl desperately toward the door.
At the hideous sight, Shin-wol clicked his tongue softly.
The direction she was heading was Yeo-won's room.
The grandmother, dragged right up to Shin-wol's face, met his moon-bright golden eyes in the final instant before her breath gave out.
Beyond those vast, distant eyes she glimpsed an innocent abyss no human could comprehend.
Her mouth, opened to say something, simply stopped there, leaving nothing behind.
[...]
The old woman's lifeless body transformed in an instant, withering like a mummy. Her entire form turned pitch black as if scorched by fire, and her eyes sank deep into their sockets, crumbling away until they held no shape at all.
Shin-wol gazed down at the miserably altered corpse with indifferent eyes.
This was the end of a human who had violated causality.
She had lived by defying the mandate of heaven. Even if it had not been her own desire, the sin of going against fate was never light.
Shin-wol had seen countless such humans, yet today the sight displeased him more than usual.
The reason was simple.
The old woman's current appearance could one day become Yeo-won's.
A human bearing a gumiho's marble in her body was itself an enormous crime.
If left as she was, Yeo-won would meet a death as horrific as this grandmother's.
That was why Shin-wol intended to absorb the marble into her body and transform her into a new spiritual being.
A seonho who carried his own marble.
In that way, the sins of her human days could be washed away through a thousand years of training.
There had never been a precedent of a human becoming a gumiho, but since there were cases of humans ascending to immortality, it could not be called entirely impossible.
The crumbling body could be entrusted to his palace and restored with time.
Afterward, Yeo-won would never again be able to descend to the mortal realm, but that was a trivial matter.
He frowned as he looked down at the rotting corpse before him.
He could not allow her to end up like this. No, he would not permit it.
With a wave of his hand, Shin-wol moved the grandmother's body onto the bedding.
It was his final act of consideration for Yeo-won's blood relative.
A sweet fragrance drifted in through the door the old woman had left open.
Shin-wol's eyes sank deeply.
She liked apricots. Now that he thought about it, he vaguely remembered her saying so when they had bathed together before.
In that case, he would make the tree in his palace bear fruit instead of flowers.
So that she could pick and eat them whenever she wished, in the taste and form she loved most.
[...I miss her.]
He missed Yeo-won.
Terribly. Madly.
*
When he emerged from the old woman's room, Mrs. Yoon stood alone in the courtyard. The moment their eyes met, she bowed her head in a deeply respectful greeting. The attitude was markedly different from before, and he gave a small smile.
When he spoke as if pleased, Mrs. Yoon gave a light nod. An arrogant smile spread across her face.
The immense spiritual energy Shin-wol had granted her was truly overwhelming. She felt as if she had awakened the Three Clarities and Six Penetrations, as though she now understood everything.
When she concentrated, she could hear every sound and see everything.
Yes, even, for example, the fading heartbeat from the house next door.
"I came because it seemed you might have work for me to do."
Her calm voice carried an undercurrent of subtle arrogance, but Shin-wol chose to ignore it.
When Shin-wol stepped aside, Mrs. Yoon entered the room with a solemn expression. Once he had come out into the courtyard, he gazed at the apricot tree covered in flower buds and fell into brief contemplation.
If he uprooted the entire tree and planted it in the garden, would Yeo-won like it? Still, two trees might be excessive.
While he stroked his chin, lost in thought, a terrified scream erupted from inside the room.
"Aaaagh!"
Mrs. Yoon came rushing out and bowed low beneath the eaves. As vomit splattered onto the ground, Shin-wol muttered with a face full of contempt.
"G-Grandmother's corpse... how did it... ugh!"
Before she could even finish speaking, Mrs. Yoon pressed her face to the ground again. Though she had experienced all manner of hardships in her life, she had never seen a corpse in such a gruesome state.
At the calm voice coming from above her head, Mrs. Yoon lifted her gaze. She saw Shin-wol standing before the apricot tree like a shadow.
He looked down at her with dry eyes and spoke in a voice devoid of emotion.
"...Pardon?"
For a moment her mind seemed to stop; when Mrs. Yoon asked back in a dazed voice, Shin-wol let out a soft laugh.
It took her several seconds to fully comprehend his words. Shin-wol waited for her with courteous patience, and Mrs. Yoon froze where she stood, swallowed by despair.
Mrs. Yoon had roughly understood. Power of this magnitude would naturally demand an equivalent price.
But seeing it with her own eyes was far more shocking than she had anticipated.
Death itself did not frighten her, but the thought of her family seeing her in such a state made her heart feel as if it were sinking. As fear settled over Mrs. Yoon's face, Shin-wol laughed quietly.
Struck at her core, Mrs. Yoon clenched her teeth tightly.
Before him, she could hide nothing and think of nothing.
Having already become assimilated with him, she understood all too well that there was no turning back.
Mrs. Yoon, who had been staring at him blankly, slowly rose and prostrated herself closely before him.
"I beg you, please."
She knew this was his form of mercy. After rising once more, just before she stepped back into the room, Mrs. Yoon paused as though something had occurred to her.
After a brief hesitation, she spoke carefully.
"I intend to hold a funeral for Grandmother."
"To hold a funeral, a chief mourner is required."
"...The chief mourner must be family, and the only family Grandmother has left is Yeo-won."
At his icy tone, Mrs. Yoon flinched. As if reflecting his mood, the faint moonlight was obscured by clouds. In the darkness that had settled over the courtyard, only Shin-wol's eyes emitted an alien glow.
"E-even so, that child loved her family so much... Even if we don't show her that sight, at least let her see Grandmother off at the end..."
He murmured as if the word irritated him.
Shin-wol's brows narrowed in displeasure, and the corner of his mouth twisted with contempt.
At his decisive tone, Mrs. Yoon faltered.
"......"
Shin-wol replied as though the matter bored him, then shifted his gaze back to the tree.
Only after that suffocating stare withdrew did Mrs. Yoon release a trembling breath.
He reached out toward the apricot tree.
At the same moment, the tree became enveloped in blue-green light. It shook, its roots tearing free from the earth as it rose into the air. When he closed his fist, the great tree vanished in a shower of light particles.
As Mrs. Yoon watched the bizarre spectacle in a daze, a murmur that seemed to melt on the ear brushed past.