Resumption
Hoeyeon and Arang were leisurely sipping their tea when the sun climbed higher and the day brightened into full light.
There was every chance they would take to the road that very day, which meant peaceful hours like these might not come again for quite some time.
They would reach the border of the wasteland where Geumdo lay before the day of departure was out. From the border to Geumdo itself looked to be half a day's travel in a straight line—but simply arriving would not be the end of it.
They did not even know whether Geumdo was mountain or water. According to Gayul, the place was thick with countless magics, but that was all she could say. Their goal was to discover why the contract her ancestor had sealed with the heavens had suddenly broken ten years ago.
"…And once we find out," Hoeyeon murmured to herself.
"Will she try to take it back?"
It was a question she had never considered before. Whether reclaiming it was even possible remained unclear—but if it were, would Gayul want to? And if she did reclaim it, would she wish to become emperor again?
"You speak of Gayul."
Arang had grasped the shape of Hoeyeon's thoughts from nothing more than a subjectless, objectless mutter—because she herself had wondered the same thing. Arang, who thought more than most, had almost certainly arrived at the question far earlier.
"Whether she desires the throne again or not—this one has her own guess, but I have no wish to speak it to you as if it were fact."
"Hm? Why not?"
"Because it is right that you ask Gayul yourself."
"What do you mean?"
"Ask her directly—including that unease, that tightness in your chest. That will be best."
"…Mmm." Hoeyeon sighed. "If you're the one saying it, then it must be right."
"…"
"Why so quiet?"
"Being trusted by you like this stirs a stronger feeling than I expected."
"So you were happy?"
"I shall not say."
She said so, but Arang was smiling.
"This one has wandered the world a fair amount, or so I pride myself—yet never have I met anyone who burrows into a person's heart so brazenly as you."
"I'm curious—where all have you been, and how much have you seen?"
Hoeyeon had wandered once herself, but only as a means of survival, and she had never covered any great stretch of land.
"Hmm… very well." Arang's eyes turned distant, the way a person's do when they look back into the past. "The western edge of the world where even the islands end. The Jewel Lake of the south. The legendary Mount Tae, said to have been stamped into being by a dragon's foot… I have seen much. Human cities and demi-human villages alike, more than a few."
"…By any chance, are there dragons among the demi-humans?"
"There are not. It is common enough for human legends to turn out to be facts tangled up with demi-humans—but dragons are truly creatures of fiction."
"Really? That's a shame."
"A shame?"
"If they existed, I would've wanted to touch their scales."
"…If ever you are to meet other demi-humans, I shall have to bind your hands."
"No, I wouldn't touch them right away. Once we got close—once we got close."
"And what if you, thinking them a friend, asked whether you might touch this or that, and they took it as courtship or a proposal of marriage?"
"…That could happen?"
"It is common. And if they actually accepted—what then? Truly, your hands must be bound."
"Ugh…"
Hoeyeon made a face of pure disgust and lifted both wrists pressed together as if already trussed in rope. Arang laughed again.
"Oh? But there are demi-human villages?"
"They do not live mixed among humans, so they must gather somewhere, must they not? Sometimes a single race lives together; sometimes several mingle."
"Did you live in a place like that when you were little, Arang?"
"This one…?" Arang's eyes took on that looking-back quality once more. "I did." She added, "It was a tedious place. Nothing at all compared to the present I share with all of you."
"Master, the General is looking for you."
"For Us? Tell him to wait a moment."
The false emperor Hyeoneum had a servant changing the bandages on his arm. The burns beneath were healing, but far more slowly than an ordinary wound.
"That vicious little—ah! Be gentle!"
He spat the words like poison and barked at the servant wrapping his arm.
"I-I'm sorry…!"
The servant trembled as he apologized. Hyeoneum clicked his tongue again and turned to the messenger.
"Where is the General?"
"He said he would wait in the Sanctum."
"The Sanctum… ah. Today, is it? The day a new vessel is bestowed."
The messenger laced his fingers together and bowed his head.
"Understood. Tell him We will come shortly. You—hurry up!"
"I-I'm sorry…!"
The servant apologized once more, shaking, and finished binding the bandage. Hyeoneum staggered out, then turned back a step to snatch up the crown that had been set aside and settle it properly on his head.
The Sanctum was a vast circular chamber. At its center stood an altar of black stone, and above it a statue like a serpent that had lunged down from the ceiling and frozen mid-strike into stone. As Hyeoneum entered, the walls were lined with people deep in prayer.
The monster called the General greeted him.
"Mmm. You've come."
"Is everything prepared? And what is that arm of yours?"
"It is ready. This one will be the vessel this time. As for the arm—I lost it recently, so I replaced it."
The left arm Yujeong's sword had severed had been swapped for something like the limb of a metal doll.
"Truth be told, both my legs are the same. The freezing made the flesh necrose. It was ghastly. That I made it back at all was nothing short of a miracle."
Before the altar, a woman knelt in prayer. Unlike the others, she cradled a Masu core bare-handed between her clasped fingers.
"—And deliver us from death, and lead us unto eternal life."
When she finished, Hyeoneum spoke.
"Lie down."
The woman climbed onto the altar and lay back. Someone knelt beside Hyeoneum in an offering posture and raised a dagger—an ornate blade of strange, alien make.
"Then let the rite—hm?"
Seeing the brightness in the woman's eyes, Hyeoneum said, "You. Are you in your right mind?"
"I am, Your Holiness."
Her face was alight with the blind fanaticism of one ready to lose herself entirely.
"No matter what, I wished to receive it with a clear body and a clear heart…"
"Loyal indeed."
For the first time that day, weight entered Hyeoneum's voice. The throng praying along the walls slammed their foreheads to the floor as one. A wave of titles—Cult Lord, Holy Father—rippled through the chamber.
"Your posture, your heart—We acknowledge them as worthy of an offering."
If the man of a moment ago had been a false emperor, the one who stood now was a twisted, warped emperor. The gravity in his voice, the bearing of his body, the lift and speed with which he raised the dagger—all of it suited one who presided over a rite offered to a being higher than humankind.
Only the object of that rite was not the noble heavens.
He raised the dagger to its highest point and intoned:
"An end to death! Eternal life!!!!!!"
The whole assembly roared it back. Someone wailed. The dagger in Hyeoneum's grip plunged into the woman's heart and pulled free. Blood surging from her heart soaked the serpent statue descending from the ceiling.
"—That was the very first thing she said to me, I swear. Just like this—eyes narrowed! 'I am not your friend. Show the proper courtesy.'"
"Hahahahahaha!! Hahahahahaha!!"
Yujeong struck an exaggerated pose, arms crossed and glaring, and Gayul—already collapsed on the floor laughing—started rolling outright.
"And then like this! She snapped her head away! 'Friendship is nothing but an excuse for the weak to flock together…'—and whip!"
"Ghk—Yu, Yujeong, spare me, I c-can't breathe—ahahah…"
"What are you two doing?"
At Hoeyeon's icy voice, Yujeong froze solid as stone. Before she knew it, both her horns were firmly in someone's grip.
"Ah—sajeo, ahaha… welcome back?"
"Our little junior disciple is going to need some educating from her eonni later, isn't she?"
"Heeung…"
Hoeyeon released the horns of her junior, who had made that strange little sound, and Yujeong bolted behind Arang's back to hide.
"Making noises like that makes you sound weird!"
As Hoeyeon flustered, Yujeong poked her head out from behind Arang and cried,
"Horns are sensitive, okay?! If you say things like that while touching somewhere sensitive, what am I supposed to do?!"
"Uh… really?"
"Yes!"
"Then… that was my fault. Sorry."
Wait—things like that? That wasn't even anything sexual. Don't tell me her tastes are—
"Eh, let's call it even."
"That little brat…"
Still peeking only her head out from behind Arang, she looked like she was begging to be smacked once—but if the horns really were like that, grabbing them without leave was the greater offense.
"Hooo…"
While Hoeyeon exhaled and let her temper cool, Yujeong suddenly sniffed the air.
"Huh? Arang-ssi smells like sajeo?"
"Hm? You can catch it? Oni-kin have rather sharp noses, so it stands to reason."
"I've been thinking my sense of smell's gotten sharper lately, but anyway—so Arang-ssi, that means…?"
"It is exactly as you imagine."
"Ah, then I don't have to wait anymore either."
"? Wait? Whatever do you mean?"
"I didn't want to cut in line."
"What an admirable frame of mind… this one is ashamed…"
"Hehe."
Hoeyeon turned her face away.
"What kind of conversation is this…"
No—she knew exactly what kind of conversation it was. She understood every word; she simply had no idea what to say about it. And right where she had turned her head, Gayul was listening with a little smile.
"And you—what exactly have you been hearing from Yujeong on your own?"
"Nothing to fret over. My affection for you has only grown deeper."
"…That's not the issue."
Hoeyeon stumbled over her words. It was not one person but several, pouring their fondness on her one after another; keeping her composure was simply impossible.
Seizing the opening, Gayul spoke to Arang.
"Arang—come to think of it, there is one thing I wished to ask before we depart."
"Something to ask? What is it?"
"Is Hoin's Godo not situated somewhere just before one enters the wasteland? I do not know if it is possible, but there is something I wish to confirm. Could you help me meet with the elder?"
"Godo?" Yujeong asked.
"Godo as in 'ancient capital.' Quite literally a hidden village where Fox-kin have lived together among themselves since long ago… there is something that has been weighing on my mind… that is all."
Gayul's voice dwindled and died because of the look on Arang's face—a bitter expression mixed of anger and sorrow, her lips pressed tight in silence.
"…I have no wish to go. And," Arang said, biting off each word, "if the matter requires asking a favor of the elder, this one is the least suitable person alive."
Hoeyeon opened her mouth carefully.
"Is it… something…"
"…There is no need to hide it from all of you." Arang spoke. "The current elder is, in truth, the previous elder."
Only Gayul understood at once what that meant.
"Originally this one's mother held the seat of elder, but she passed from the world, and this one fled the village declaring she would see the wider world. So the one who had already handed the title down took up the eldership once more."
"Uh… so then."
Arang nodded.
"The chieftain of that village now is this one's maternal grandmother. Likely the person in all this world who hates me most."