Chapter 134
Jin Cheongak’s words lingered in the air.
Yeoil did not move a muscle. Just as always—whenever she faced Jin Cheongak—she merely looked at him in silence.
From the moment she stepped into this space, she had been certain.
This was sorcery.
Yes. No matter how one looked at it, this was nothing more than an illusion.
And yet… the corpses of Seolyeong and Changa were horrifically realistic. Jin Cheongak stood before them, smiling calmly. The howling blizzard outside the window, its sound enveloping everything—
All of it slowly began to shake Yeoil’s conviction.
This is sorcery.
‘…Is it really?’
It had to be sorcery. Otherwise, there was no way Jin Cheongak could be standing before her right now.
‘But something’s strange. Whenever something interfered with me at moments like this, it was always Cheon Muryoung. There’s no reason for Jin Cheongak to appear… not even a little.’
Jin Cheongak walked toward her.
“Yeoil.”
His steps were as leisurely and indifferent as his expression.
“You always found human bonds troublesome. Detached, bored—and more than anything… afraid.”
This really was sorcery.
“That’s why I ended it for you. For you, who always ran away. How is it? Aren’t you satisfied? You were always like that, weren’t you? Toward me, toward Seolyeong and Changa. You even turned your back on Cheon Muryoung… always.”
She couldn’t afford to waste any more time on mere sorcery.
When Yeoil moved her hand to her waist, Jin Cheongak laughed.
There was no pity, no anger, no hatred in that smile.
It was nothing but dry resignation.
“It’s time for me to return to my place as well. As you know, the Young Lord of the Heavenly Demonic Cult has many duties. For a time, being with you was quite enjoyable, but…”
Having approached her, Jin Cheongak tilted his head.
At a distance so close it was as if he were about to kiss her, he whispered in a voice unbearably gentle.
“Let’s end this now. If I kill you, I’ll finally be able to let you go.”
A tender hand wrapped around her nape, stroking as if to soothe her—then slowly tightening. She didn’t even realize she was suffocating.
There was only a single voice echoing faintly in her mind.
This is sorcery.
Amid sensations vivid as reality itself, Yeoil once more gripped her sword.
The forbidden art of the Hangryong Sect showed only two kinds of illusions.
It either reflected desire and ensnared the mind—
Or reflected nightmares and crushed the soul.
There was no way this moment could be a nightmare to Yeoil.
Which meant that everything here was merely a scene drawn from the depths of her own desire.
Jin Cheongak smiled.
“Yeoil. Do you truly believe that?”
Yeoil’s Moon Sword cleaved through him.
In that instant—
The world shattered.
With a brief tremor, space twisted. Colors collapsed, the red lanterns went out, and the lake-like pool of blood beneath her feet vanished.
Jin Cheongak, the corpses, even that smile—all disappeared without a trace.
And yet, for some reason, the sensation of cutting down Jin Cheongak remained chillingly vivid.
To shake off that unpleasant feeling, Yeoil stood for a while in the middle of the now-empty hall.
Even as a woman approached her—a woman with long white hair, like a single fragile apple blossom.
“…Why do you look like that?”
The woman slowly walked toward Yeoil, who stood dazed, her face filled with genuine incomprehension.
“I rushed here at once to save you, who were struggling like a fish thrown onto land in Cheon Muryoung’s grasp… so why—why is it that—”
Her voice, clear as a bird’s song, carried deep suspicion.
The woman who soon stood beside her, Yuyu—
“What did you see, to make that kind of face?”
Her expression was full of indignation.
“I—I waited only for you for hundreds of days… so who on earth shook you like that? Who was it? It couldn’t have been me—I wouldn’t—!”
Yeoil pressed her throbbing forehead and called her softly.
“Yuyu.”
“It was only Cheon Muryoung, wasn’t it? He was the only one who could shake you! So if it wasn’t him, then who—! I… I couldn’t be, right?!”
“Yuyu!”
At Yeoil’s sharp cry, Yuyu fell silent.
Seeing the tear-like droplets forming at the corners of her eyes, Yeoil let out a small sigh.
“Stop jumping to conclusions. I didn’t come to hear that.”
“……”
“I came because I need you. If it’s all right, give me a little of your time.”
Yuyu’s flushed, heated face did not easily calm, but she eventually steadied her breathing and barely parted her lips.
“…Follow me.”
Yeoil looked at Yuyu’s profile as she crossed the hall toward her quarters.
Inside the quiet jade-colored sleeves, Yuyu’s fingers trembled violently—she was barely restraining her emotions.
Her lips tightly pressed together, Yuyu walked straight ahead with frightened eyes.
‘Best not to provoke her.’
When Yuyu lost control of her emotions, there was no telling what she might do.
Thinking how troublesome things were becoming, Yeoil followed her into a spacious room.
Unlike the bitter cold of midwinter outside, Yuyu’s space was dim but profoundly comforting.
Yuyu guided Yeoil to the seat of honor.
“Sit down… N-now talk to me. Where have you been all this time? I looked for you for so long! You vanished without warning, then suddenly sent me Yeso-gun’s corpse, and I—I felt so relieved, and yet so heartbroken at the same time…”
Yuyu’s voice was more cautious than ever.
Yeoil sat before the low tea table. The white hand pouring the tea trembled faintly.
She spoke calmly.
“I’ll be brief. I’m looking for an item.”
“An item…?”
“Yes. I’ve figured out its location, but things got complicated. I need to infiltrate the Heavenly Demonic Cult soon. I’ll need a status that lets me move freely there. That’s why I intend to use your position.”
“……”
“I’m not asking without compensation. I’ll give you some information worth the price. Is there anything you want?”
Yuyu’s hand froze.
A few drops of tea splashed into the cup, tearing through the silence. Her shoulders stiffened.
After a brief pause, Yuyu raised her head.
“S-so that’s all it was…?”
Her eyes were even redder than before.
“You… the reason you came to find me was just that? I thought—at least a little—you came because you were thinking of me, because you wanted to see me… because you meant to keep your promise…”
Yeoil said nothing. Yuyu tried to force a smile, but ultimately broke down in tears.
“I—I missed you. I really missed you all this time. Without knowing how I felt… it’s always like this. Always… only when you need me…”
Yeoil closed her eyes, then opened them. At last, in a steady voice, she spoke a lie.
“Just this once.”
“Liar.”
“Once this is over, I’ll make time for you.”
“Liar!”
“I’ll stay by your side when you have nightmares—just like before.”
Yuyu’s eyes wavered violently.
She drew in a deep breath, her trembling hands fidgeting endlessly, and only after a long while did she nod weakly, sniffling.
“F-fine. It’s a promise. But… tonight—just tonight, stay here. And… please look at the paintings I drew. And also… rest in the room you used to use. You know, right? That room—I kept it just as it was after you left. You know, don’t you?”
Yeoil slowly nodded.
“All right.”
Yuyu stood up, smiling brightly, though her face still looked somehow unstable.
“Then… I’ll come back after I finish my work.”
After Yuyu left—
Another woman entered silently and guided Yeoil back outside the hall. The place they arrived at was one of the rooms Yeoil had once used.
Paintings lined the white walls. Warm light illuminated them, yet an eerie stillness lingered.
Painting was one of the few hobbies Yuyu possessed.
Since long ago, Yuyu had often begged Yeoil to critique her work, but Yeoil would only look quietly and reply with a brief, “I don’t really know.”
It was the same now.
The first painting depicted a bird.
A small white bird flying freely beneath a clear sky.
In the next painting, a pale hand appeared, with the bird sitting demurely atop it.
In the third, the bird stood before a bamboo cage.
In the fourth—
The cage was closed, and twilight spread outside it.
In the fifth, the bird crouched inside the cage. In the sixth, it folded its wings and quietly closed its eyes.
In the final painting, the bird was gone.
Only a single flower bloomed in its place. The bird had turned into a flower—pale and beautiful, yet utterly devoid of vitality.
Yeoil could not take her eyes off the paintings.
Unlike Yuyu’s usual work, the message here was unmistakably clear.
The moment she found that deeply unsettling, a sinister presence suddenly began to spread through the air.
Her chest grew tight, and her fingertips went numb.
‘…Poison.’
Her vision blurred, and her knees buckled.
She had no room left to think further.
Yeoil immediately launched herself forward, sword in hand, rushing toward the door. The paper screen shattered grotesquely, splitting into six fragments before her eyes.
In that instant, words spoken by a woman of the Hangryong Sect flashed through her mind.
—
[The Sect Master is receiving another guest…]
—
Yuyu had always put Yeoil first.
Being delayed because of someone else? That never made sense to begin with.
And recalling how extremely anxious Yuyu had seemed the entire time they were together—
Yeoil clicked her tongue.
‘So this was the plan from the start.’
Judging by how strongly her body was reacting, this was no ordinary poison. Like with Hongyu, it would take at least several days for her body to recover on its own.
Yeoil pressed forward, cutting down everything in her path with her sword.
At some point, she could no longer see anything at all, but relying on instinct, she tried to escape outside as quickly as possible.
Yet the surroundings were still thick with poison.
And her consciousness gradually began to fade.
Before long, Yeoil’s body collapsed limply to the ground.
