Bonding, Awakening, Clash
"Did you finish?"
Gayul spoke as Hoeyeon returned.
"Yeah."
It was a mountain deep in the night, but the moonlight was bright enough that they could see each other's faces without any other light.
Gayul could see the complicated expression on Hoeyeon's face after destroying the core Yu Eunha had left behind.
"Come. They're waiting."
Beyond the trees, the light of a campfire glowed. Arang and Yujeong were there.
Once the three of them realized they had been attacked by a Masu and their position exposed to the enemy, they had moved at once—and they had no choice but to bring Yujeong with them.
"Will Arang be all right?"
Hoeyeon whispered the question. Gayul sighed.
"She will be struggling with it."
To Arang, who valued grace and repayment more than most, the guilt and regret toward Yujeong—who had helped them and been dragged into this because of it—would be immense.
"I should comfort her a little later."
"Indeed. Though leaving her alone for a while may not be such a bad thing either. Her mind must be quite tangled right now."
"True."
Even now, Hoeyeon still had not managed to bring up the feelings Arang had shouted during her fight with Gayul—back before she had been turned into a child.
Does Arang... like me?
Saying Arang "does" was not quite right.
It should be Arang "does, too."
"I would like to check the barrier I set around us once more. Will you come with me?"
It was a night of bright moonlight.
The woman who held Hoeyeon in her heart spoke to her.
Hoeyeon nodded.
Yujeong listened to the crackle of the campfire, trying to bury the thoughts that kept rising from within her.
It was not working.
If anything, the voice in her head was no longer mere words—it was showing her vivid images.
Struggle. Battle. Victory. A sharp, unmistakable vision of challenging someone great and dangerous, and breaking them.
Strength. The rapture of toppling the strong.
Every time the thoughts surged through her mind, Yujeong trembled faintly. Short breaths escaped her.
Sajeo.
She had pulled the blanket up over her face to just below her eyes, so Arang across from her would not see her expression.
Sajeo, I'm scared. Sajeo. Sajeo…
Her forehead hurt. It ached as if something inside were trying to punch its way out, throbbing in time with her heartbeat.
Sajeo, why are you so strong? Why are you so… captivating?
The image of Hoeyeon gripping her sword. Hoeyeon sparring with her. And just a short while ago—Hoeyeon cutting down that horrific monster.
Beautiful. Desirable. So much so that she felt she might be pulled straight in.
Sajeo.
Help me. Save me. If you can't save me, then kill me.
Please.
If you don't, I think I'm going to kill you.
"This is the last of them."
After checking the final mark she had drawn upon the earth and trees, Gayul looked up at the night sky.
"Heaven favors me tonight."
"Heaven?"
"Do you not think it a beautiful night sky, well suited to speaking of the heart?"
Moonlight lit Gayul's smile.
Gazing at that lovely face, Hoeyeon thought.
Gayul was beautiful, strong, and knew so much.
Had she wished it, even after losing the power of the heavens, she could still have ruled as the sovereign of a nation that carried on Geon's legacy.
And that Gayul liked her.
That she had taken someone like Hoeyeon into her heart, blushed for her, held feelings for her.
It felt unreal all over again.
"Hoeyeon,"
Gayul whispered.
"I am grateful to you."
Her gentle voice swept away the unease that had risen in Hoeyeon's mind.
"When you first asked me to put the feelings I held into words, I will confess—I was so ashamed that I even resented you."
"…Yeah."
"But the more I thought on it, the more I came to understand why you wanted that of me."
Gayul, who had been looking up at the night sky, turned her head to face Hoeyeon.
The blue-haired beauty, who made even the night sky into a mere backdrop for herself, smiled shyly.
"Hoeyeon."
With strength in her voice. With her heart. With the truth.
"I love you."
Carried on a breath.
"When I am with you, I am glad. My heart trembles. Being with you brings me joy."
The words she held in her heart, offered with care.
"You are lovely. Your steadfast heart, your tender heart, your face and your form—all of you is lovely."
Filled with affection, with longing.
"And with lovely you, with the you I love, I wish to remain together for as long as may be. That is the heart I hold for you."
Gayul smiled brilliantly.
"If you accept,"
And cupping Hoeyeon's cheek with one hand, she whispered,
"I shall take it as acceptance."
Slowly, Gayul brought her lips toward Hoeyeon's.
Slowly enough that Hoeyeon could refuse at any moment, if she truly meant to.
Hoeyeon grinned.
At times like this, she really was such a fool.
"You're way too slow."
Hoeyeon slid a hand behind Gayul's neck and pulled her in.
The touch of lips meeting lips was sweet this time, too.
"…You are unfair."
Breathless, Gayul whispered. Hoeyeon, also breathless, whispered back with a mischievous smile.
"Then punish me."
Gayul laughed with her and cupped Hoeyeon's other cheek as well, leaving her nowhere to escape.
"Gladly. I shall punish you thoroughly."
Her cheeks burned. The touch of lips meeting again burned even hotter.
"I can hear all of that, you pair of animals in heat."
They had already paid the price for underestimating a Hoin's sense of smell—and now they were underestimating her hearing as well.
She grumbled for show, but Arang's true feelings were bitter.
She did not know how she had come to harbor romantic feelings for Hoeyeon. But unlike a certain pointed-eared fool, Arang had both loved and been loved before.
So she knew the loneliness and pain of folding one's heart away.
Had it been anyone else, any other relationship, she might have fought back.
She might have thrown herself into the fray as one corner of a love triangle—giving gifts, confessing her heart, seducing, praising.
But Hoeyeon and Gayul were her benefactors.
To insert herself between the love of her benefactors and fight for it?
That was something Arang could not do.
How it aches.
A pain no medicine could touch.
And so—
That for Gayul, a lovers' bond did not mean the exclusion of others—
Arang, who had been shut away in her room at the time and so had not heard it, and still did not know—
Suffered alone, blaming only herself.
I can never let Hoeyeon know my heart.
That was not so.
Must I pretend not to know of her romance with Gayul, alone and from behind?
A misunderstanding.
The thought of having to play along with whatever excuses they make when they sneak off in heat makes my insides churn…
Delusion and fantasy.
In the end, it was Arang's own ignorance of her feelings that had driven her to fight Gayul, which meant she had never heard Gayul's thoughts, which meant she had mistaken herself into believing she must fold her heart away—and so she had suffered alone for several more days until the misunderstanding could be cleared.
In short, she had brought it on herself.
That Hoeyeon's grandfather should appear at precisely the moment the four of them were split—Hoeyeon and Gayul, Arang and Yujeong—was pure coincidence.
After exchanging several kisses with Gayul and taking her hand to head back, lest the other two grow worried, Hoeyeon saw that face—and strangely enough, this time she was not shocked.
There was only the surprise of meeting someone unexpected; nothing like the level of astonishment she had felt when her master had come back to life and sought her out.
"!!!"
The one truly stunned was Gayul.
"You…!!"
"Ohh, Your Majesty. It has been long indeed since this humble servant was granted the honor of beholding your august countenance with these eyes."
So Hoeyeon's grandfather said—yet rather than prostrating himself upon the ground like a vassal overcome with emotion at reuniting with the sovereign he had once served, he remained standing and stroked his beard.
"Mm, as expected, it is difficult after so long. I cannot quite recall it, so I shall speak in this manner."
"Even a nauseating traitor was not the bottom of what you are. What have you become?"
"This humble one, you mean?"
He placed one hand upon his chest as he spoke.
"Regrettably, I have not yet surpassed humanity. That is also why I have come today."
He opened his mouth again after an unnatural pause—as if mimicking the way people pause a beat in conversation, and failing at it.
"Will you not hand Hoeyeon over? She is this humble one's only blood."
"…You truly are no longer human."
Gayul's voice was cold. Hoeyeon's hand took hers for a moment and squeezed.
"I'll handle this."
Then Hoeyeon spoke to the being before her.
"Grandfather."
"Ohh, my Hoeyeon. It has been so long."
He laughed genially like a kindly old man and spread both arms wide.
"Come along with this grandfather of yours."
"You said you want me because I am your only blood."
"Ohh, yes—clever, just like your father!"
"What you want is this blood and this flesh, and nothing more. Isn't that right?"
"…Hm?"
Still wearing the face of a benevolent grandfather, he tilted his head.
Like a gentle adult patiently asking again of a child who has said something incomprehensible.
"Then what else would there be?"
Hoeyeon drew her sword.
Sensing a grotesque malice and killing intent that was anything but human, Arang immediately hid herself behind a tree and observed the enemy.
The content of Hoeyeon and Gayul's exchange with the foe was shocking, but it was not what she needed to focus on now.
Watching Hoeyeon take up her sword to fight, Arang thought.
Yujeong is one this humble one must protect.
Yujeong was by no means weak, but ever since being wounded by the Masu earlier, she had kept her face hidden and been trembling.
Whether the wound was of the body or of the heart—fear and shock—she was in no state to defend herself.
Best to take fox form, put her on my back, and run. If there is an ambush, the likely places would be…
Weighing countless possibilities in her mind, Arang slowly approached where Yujeong was and held a finger to her own lips before her.
Yujeong had stopped trembling. Good. The shaking had ceased—
"Oh, for real."
Yujeong spoke suddenly. Startled, Arang pressed a finger to her lips again, but Yujeong rose from her place without the slightest intention of keeping quiet.
"I mean, humanly speaking—cutting in line is just too much, isn't it?"
"Yujeong…! Quickly, from here—"
Yujeong flung aside the blanket she had been buried under the whole time.
The campfire light caught the two horns that had sprouted from Yujeong's forehead. Each was about a handspan long—pointed and sharp.
Her hair had newly taken on a pink hue, and her eyes a violet one.
The horns of a Gwiin.
Impossible. Cases of a person suddenly becoming a demi-human—
Do exist.
When one parent was a demi-human and the other human, there were rare instances of a child born human who later awakened as a demi-human.
But of all things—to awaken not as some other demi-human, but as a Gwiin.
The worst possible outcome.
She could guess why someone with talent for the sword had been forced to quit. A martial art built on constantly testing oneself against others could not have failed to stir Gwiin blood.
"Sajeo is the strong opponent I already claimed, you know."
Yujeong grinned sheepishly and drew the sword at her waist.
Gwiin—named with the same character used for ghosts and malevolent spirits.
A demi-human race that instinctively craved struggle against strong foes, and battle itself.
And this was neither an adult who had grown accustomed to that instinct and learned to control it, nor a weak child who could not control the instinct but lacked the power—this was someone fully grown, trained in the sword, opening her eyes for the first time to a savagely boiling thirst for combat.
"Ah?"
As if something had just occurred to her, Yujeong turned to Arang and smiled.
It was a smile of such pure fighting spirit that it almost looked sunny.
"Arang-ssi, you're strong too, right?"
Cold sweat ran down Arang's back.
This is a catastrophe.