Chapter 99
Chapter 99
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: No Master for Destiny (10)
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“Sometimes, as I kill your kind, that saying comes to mind.”
Yeomyeong murmured as he shoved aside the limp body of the Horse Head.
“…Patriotism is the virtue of the wicked.”
Covered head to toe in black blood, with blue wisps rising from him, he looked like a monster dragged out of a nightmare.
“Who said that again? Some writer, I think… but I can’t quite remember.”
Through the strands of dangling hair, his gleaming eyes turned toward the walnut tree.
“Hmm… Do you happen to know? Who said this.”
The masked woman on the ground, No.9, gasped for breath as blood pooled around her.
“You… crazy bastard…”
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
Yeomyeong spread his hand into a blade and slowly approached her.
With each step, black blood dripped, leaving footprints behind.
The wet, squelching sounds echoed through the ground, and terror filled No.9’s eyes as he drew near.
The moment Yeomyeong’s foot stopped, she looked up.
Golden eyes radiated the same cold killing intent as a butcher slaughtering livestock.
Suppressing her trembling body, No.9 spoke.
“The… government won’t… forgive you… ever…!”
Of course they won’t. I don’t plan on forgiving them either.
Yeomyeong raised his hand. Just as he was about to bring it down on No.9’s head.
…?
An unfamiliar gaze prickled from above. He twisted his arm instantly, scattering sword energy upward.
Slash!
The crude sword energy from his hand sliced through the air, severing branches on the walnut tree overhead.
Rustle. Leaves scattered, and branches fell.
Through the unripe pale green leaves, something black flapped its wings.
‘…A crow?’
The thing flying up from the walnut tree was unlike any ordinary crow Yeomyeong knew.
Nearly the size of an eagle, and emitting mana, no less.
‘…Pig, cow, horse… and now crow?’
Yeomyeong checked his remaining mana and put distance between himself and the tree.
‘…This won’t be easy.’
If he were at full strength, maybe. But after using the golden seal and fighting nonstop—without even a weapon.
His opponent, meanwhile, was a master skilled enough to hide their presence from Yeomyeong’s senses.
Of course, Yeomyeong didn’t consider defeat. He still had Uragan’s Hilt, the invisibility cloak, and plenty of other hidden cards.
If it got too tough, he could always flee straight to the girls’ dormitory.
The problem was his promise to meet Seti at the academy outskirts…
‘I’ll fight with intent to kill. If it doesn’t work, then escape.’
Finishing his thoughts, Yeomyeong wiped the blood from his face and steadied his breathing.
As the mana of Wave Yang Art flowed through his muscles and veins, completing his preparations.
Boom!
The crow landed on the ground. So heavy was its weight that the earth cratered, sending grass and dirt flying.
Yeomyeong assumed a stance to counter the first strike. But the crow’s next action differed slightly from his expectations.
It neither charged nor unleashed magic. It simply shuddered violently.
Only after a few blinks did Yeomyeong realize what it was doing.
‘…This one’s transforming too?’
Unlike with the Horse Head, he had no time to wait. Yeomyeong swung his hand blade, launching sword energy.
Or he tried to.
The moment he sensed the mana emanating from the transforming crow, he had to stop.
The mana flowing from its body was pure and clear—nothing like the twisted mana unique to Shepherds.
He’d only ever felt mana this pure from Miridis and the World Tree Crystal he’d eaten in Manchuria.
‘…What the hell are you?’
While Yeomyeong furrowed his brow in confusion, the crow’s transformation reached its final stages.
Its waist and hips elongated straight like a human’s, and its wings grew fingers like human hands, stretching long.
Its already massive frame expanded further, nearly matching Yeomyeong’s eye level.
And…
…That’s it?
Yeomyeong tilted his head, but the transformation stopped there.
He’d half-expected tentacles to sprout or extra wings to appear. He was a bit thrown.
Standing on two legs like a human, with human-like fingers—a half-human, half-beast.
As far as he knew, only one such creature existed on this earth.
“…Beastkin?”
***
Not in Africa, so why a Beastkin at the academy?
More importantly, was this really a Shepherd sent by the Korean government? If not, then…
As Yeomyeong’s thoughts began to wander, the crow abruptly opened its beak.
“Oscar Wilde.”
The voice was impossibly clear and pure for something coming from a crow’s throat.
Feeling no hostility in it, Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes and repeated.
“…Oscar Wilde?”
“The answer to your question earlier. ‘Patriotism is the virtue of the wicked’—that was Oscar Wilde.”
“…”
“Ah, don’t tell me you don’t know who Oscar Wilde is? You know, the one who wrote The Picture of Dorian Gray…”
As the crow began a lengthy explanation, Yeomyeong raised his hand to cut it off.
He turned his head to check No.9’s face as she gasped on the ground.
Through her mask, her expression mirrored his own faint bewilderment.
Decisive proof that the crow Beastkin before him wasn’t a Shepherd.
Still, Yeomyeong didn’t let his guard down as he asked.
“…Why were you watching me?”
“A fight breaks out under the moonlight—how could I just pass by?”
Just spectating the fight? Yeomyeong clamped his lips to keep from sneering.
Oblivious to his expression, the crow naively began critiquing the battle.
“In my opinion, it was a splendid fight! A bit too brutal, perhaps… but that’s young blood for you. You’ll refine it in time.”
It spoke lightly and leisurely, ignoring the blood pooling on the ground and the corpses.
Yeomyeong’s tension melted away just listening.
“No need for that explanation…”
He tried to pivot to another question to avoid getting dragged in, but the crow spoke faster.
“By any chance, could you tell me the name of the master you served before entering the academy? From your killing intent, it seems like you inherited the Juga Shibili Style.”
Killing intent? Style? Juga Shibili? Sensing something odd, Yeomyeong finally voiced the question he’d held back.
“…Enough. Reveal your identity first.”
“Ah! My apologies. It’s just been so long since I’ve seen talent worth cultivating—I got carried away.”
The crow said this and clacked its beak sharply—like clearing its throat if it were human.
“My name is Corbus! Master of crows and friend to all who stand at crossroads. Heard of me?”
“…”
“Ah, probably not. No matter. I’ve never chased fame anyway.”
Corbus? The name jogged Yeomyeong’s memory of his conversation with Morine before coming to the dormitory. And the black feather she’d given him.
“Out of the blue, but may I make a proposal? Actually, I came to the academy at Headmaster Himena’s invitation… Huh?”
Yeomyeong pulled a black feather from his pocket, and Corbus’s enthusiastic chatter cut off with a snap of its beak.
A brief silence.
As No.9’s dying breaths faded, Corbus finally spoke.
“…Where did you get that?”
“From the Blue Rat.”
No sooner had Yeomyeong answered than the crow’s eyes narrowed.
“…Morine?”
The mother of the Saintess and head of the Blue Rat information guild. Yeomyeong nodded instead of replying.
Corbus said nothing, merely scratching its beak with its hand. Moments later, it asked in a quieter voice.
“What did Morine say when she gave you that feather?”
Its tone probed, as if testing.
There seemed to be some hidden story behind the feather, but Yeomyeong didn’t care.
Remembering his promise with Seti, he shook his head.
“…She said to become your disciple. That’s all.”
“Ah… So you really are…”
What about me? Yeomyeong frowned as Corbus blatantly scanned his body, but it turned away without a word.
It faced the walnut tree where Yeomyeong had fought.
The sprawled Horse Head corpse, the black blood soaking the ground, and No.9 on the brink of death.
Corbus contemplated the scene, then abruptly asked Yeomyeong.
“What excuse were you planning to give the academy for those bodies?”
Yeomyeong nearly asked its intent but answered honestly instead.
“…I ran into terrorists and clashed with them. That’s what I was going to say.”
“Not a bad plan. They clearly weren’t authorized visitors, so the academy wouldn’t have grounds to deny it… Hmm…”
Corbus pondered again.
As Yeomyeong debated just rushing off to Seti.
Corbus strode to No.9, seized her throat.
Crack!
No.9 died without a scream.
As Yeomyeong stared in bewilderment, Corbus tossed her body beside the Horse Head and replied.
“Better if I take responsibility for this.”
“…Suddenly? Why?”
“From the looks of it, they weren’t after you specifically. No need to reveal yourself needlessly, right?”
An unexpected offer. Yeomyeong considered it.
If he claimed he took them down?
First, he’d need an excuse for lurking near the girls’ dormitory at this hour. Then he’d be summoned all over the academy.
The Korean government’s hostility would follow.
Sure, he’d gain fame for stopping terrorists, but he already had more than enough from worse threats than these Shepherds.
…On second thought, letting Corbus claim the kill seemed the wiser choice all around.
If he had to nitpick a problem…
“…Why the sudden favor? It can’t just be about making me your disciple.”
Corbus pointed at the feather in Yeomyeong’s hand.
“That feather. Eight years ago, I plucked it myself after owing my life to the Saintess. I swore that any request made with it, I would grant.”
Not now with the flashback! Ignoring Yeomyeong’s frown, Corbus continued.
“The Saintess wanted no repayment… but Morine took the feather in her stead and told me.”
“…”
“‘Later, when the Saintess finds someone she loves… give the feather to that person. If you want to repay the debt, repay it to them.’ That’s what she said.”
“…?”
Love? What’s that got to do with—
As Yeomyeong gaped, unable to keep up, Corbus opened its beak declaratively.
“From this moment until the two of you unite in love! I pledge everything I have to protect you.”
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