Free Web Novel“Fall back!”
Yunhwi’s guards threw themselves in front of the foul things, staking their lives to block them. No matter how many times they knocked them down, the foul things refused to stay down, and the guards were left in a miserable state.
Blood vessels burst, clothes were shredded, bodies covered in wounds—yet they did not give up.
“Grrrk...!”
Myungdo, gripping the foul thing by the wrist, advanced one step at a time. The guards followed his movement, forcing a path open for him. Desperation settled on Myungdo’s face as he cut through the chaos.
The moment the foul thing’s back hit the wall, Myungdo pressed its wrist straight onto the lantern hanging there, searing it.
The five-blessing cord that Yeomga had tied around the foul thing’s wrist was ornate.
A lotus was clenched in the mouth of a turtle standing in a white flower field. Beside it sat a tiger, and above their heads fluttered a yellow butterfly.
A five-blessing cord embroidered, layer upon layer, with a mother’s desperate wish to give her child every good thing in the world—now it burst into flames. As the white cord turned to ash and fell away in clumps—
“Aaagh!”
Seonghwi took a fatal blow from Yunhwi’s sword. The instant he collapsed, every single foul thing lost its strength and dropped to the ground.
Myungdo hurriedly pulled talismans from his chest. With frantic hands, he scattered them into the air. Yellow paper fluttered down.
Like the lanterns the two of them had once watched together, the talismans briefly embroidered the sky.
“Affix them to the foul things’ faces!”
The guards and Yunhwi grabbed the talismans and did as Myungdo said. The foul things that had been writhing slowly grew still. The uproar in the palace subsided. Everyone, panting, checked to make sure Yunhwi was safe.
“Your Highness...!”
“Yes. You did well.”
But Myungdo could not remain with them. He closed his fist as if crushing it, clutching the remnants of the five-blessing cord left behind as debris.
Myungdo turned and walked toward the throne.
“Your Majesty.”
Kneeling, Myungdo bowed his head and addressed the king.
“We must go to Baekyeongji.”
Seoryeong came to mind again. She did not have people like this around her. How frightened must she be, going alone to face Yeomga. Tears welled again at the corners of Myungdo’s eyes.
“...Is it not over yet?”
“No. It is not.”
The king nodded calmly.
“Take the troops. Go and protect her.”
Myungdo lifted his gaze. For a brief moment, the eyes of a king who wished to protect the nation met those of a man who wished to protect Seoryeong.
Soon, a haze of dust rose as a group of soldiers departed the palace. Hooves struck the ground without rest, driving forward. The veins on the back of Myungdo’s hand stood out sharply as he clenched the reins as if biting down.
The frayed end of the five-blessing cord tied so desperately around his wrist fluttered in the wind.
Please hold on. Please keep the promise. Please stay alive until the very end.
Myungdo was going to bring Seoryeong back. Just as he had promised.
* * *
Seoryeong did not remove the restraint bracelet until she finally reached Baekyeongji.
Myungdo might not have returned to the palace yet; and even if he had, he might not have dealt with the deathless ghosts. She wanted to protect him as much as possible.
The moment she removed the bracelet, Yeomga would realize everything.
Seoryeong fumbled inside her robe with trembling hands. The only thing she grasped was a single talisman. She had given every talisman she possessed to Myungdo—except this one.
The promise she had made to him, that she would not die. That had been a lie.
The moment she handed over all her talismans, Seoryeong had resolved herself to death. If this was what it took, she wanted at least that much to survive. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
It was a life she had decided to end long ago. There was no need to begrudge it.
So Seoryeong would return to nothingness together with Yeomga.
She slipped the talisman in her hand back into her robe. Her heart, cradling the talisman, beat fiercely.
“Hoo....”
A signboard reading Baekyeongji stood at the entrance to the village. Seoryeong took it in with her eyes and drew a trembling breath.
Her wrist, now bare of the five-blessing cord and feeling strangely empty, bore the restraint bracelet Jeongan had made for her by hand.
Clack. Clack. As she stroked it a few times, the wooden beads knocked against each other, sounding just like the moktak Jeongan used to strike.
For a moment, Seoryeong placed the bracelet-wearing hand over her heart. She could feel the thudding heartbeat through her palm.
“Hoo....”
She drew a deep breath again. Beyond the totem poles at the village entrance, the sun was already setting.
As it had been when she first met Myungdo, a red, burning sunset light covered one side of Seoryeong’s face.
When a dim shadow fell across the bridge of her nose, Seoryeong hesitated no longer.
Crack—.
The restraint bracelet snapped, and the wooden beads scattered across the ground.
That was when it happened.
Heeheehee! Hihihihik! The shrill laughter of children, the bang—! of a gong struck violently, the scuttling sound of cockroaches, the chant of a funeral song asking when they would come if they left now, the tinkle-tinkle of bells, the anxious beating of a janggu, the whoosh of bamboo leaves colliding in the wind—everything rang out at once.
“Ugh....”
Overwhelmed by the sudden surge of divine power, Seoryeong gasped for breath. Boom! Thunder split the clear sky.
She could feel how immense Yeomga’s divine power was. It pressed down so heavily it felt like she might be crushed to death. Only then did it truly sink in that this would require staking her life.
She was afraid. She wanted to see Myungdo. No matter how hard she bit the tender flesh inside her mouth, she could not stop the tears from welling up.
But Seoryeong took one step forward. Then another. And another.
She clenched her teeth and kept walking.
Toward where Yeomga would be.
Toward the end.
“Huh? Huh...?”
Red spots were appearing on the bodies of the people she passed. The work of the plague ghosts.
They clung to humans’ backs, perched on their shoulders, tickled them, and spread disease.
Yeomga’s curse had begun.
Those whose bodies bloomed with red spots became invitations guiding Seoryeong—right at the fork, straight ahead, then left again, deeper inside....
“Aaagh! Mom!”
“It hurts, it hurts...!”
“Mother! Father!”
Screams erupted from all sides. Unable to endure the sudden pain, people scratched at themselves and burst into the streets.
If there was a hell, would it not be here? Seoryeong thought as she passed them by.
At last, the end. In a corner of Baekyeongji, a bamboo barrier appeared again, as if welcoming her. Seoryeong lifted the rotting taboo rope with her hand.
Tinkle—. As if greeting a welcome guest, the bell hanging from the rope swayed.
Beyond it stood Yeomga.
* * *
Yeomga wore a Hahoe mask over her face. She swung one arm, and the foul things with talismans plastered to their faces moved their hands in time.
Doom doom doom doom.
Doom doom doom doom.
Gaunt hands moved busily over a drum covered in thick leather. A low, deep sound filled the space. The leather stretched over the drum looked unusually soft—like a child’s skin.
Wheee—.
A sharp sound sliced through the air from the tip of a flute. A foul thing with a grotesquely split mouth forced breath into the instrument, imitating a human’s breathing. The flute cried like the screams of the dead.
Ziiing—.
As she swung her arm brutally and struck the gong as if to shatter it, Yeomga extended her other arm.
Her robes, which had looked dull black, shimmered faintly purple in the moonlight. Standing on a reed mat scorched in places, Yeomga removed her shoes.
“Hm....”
Enjoying the wind brushing against her, Yeomga began to dance. From the instruments clutched by the foul things flowed eerie melodies. The ritual had begun.
“I proclaim to Heaven and cry out to Earth—let long rains fall and thunder resound, let blades of wind tear flesh....”
Yeomga’s voice, calling upon the sky and the ground, trembled with delight.
Each time she danced, the ends of her flowing sleeves fluttered in the wind.
“Judgment of sinners and punishment of the blessed alike, all bound together and made to roll—how could this not be joyous!”
Spreading both arms wide, Yeomga lifted them toward the sky. Her body shook.
“Stealing children’s years to gift them to the old—endless suffering without reprieve—.”
Yeomga unfurled a curse script written in her own blood. Its length was nearly equal to her height, densely packed with characters.
With her other hand, she took out a talisman. As she chanted, it ignited.
At last, it burned. The world—this damned world without Yeomga—burned.
A choking smoke rose from the curse script. For a moment, she held its edge and stared at it blankly.
As if recalling the past.
Then she climbed straight onto the blade positioned to her left.
Without waiting, Yeomga leaped again and again atop the sharp ritual knives, barefoot.
She could no longer hide her emotions. Overcome with joy, she cackled with laughter. Her excited screams rang so high they seemed ready to tear.
“Overturn Heaven and Earth!”
Even through the mask, it was clear Yeomga was smiling brightly. She ran across the razor-sharp blades with bare flesh—no longer sane.
“Topple mountains ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ and seas!”
Something no longer human.
“Disorder yin and yang!”
By now, everyone watching had palms slick with cold sweat. Please, please let Seoryeong come. They prayed again and again. When despair set in—the thought that if she were even a moment late, Yeomga would open her jaws wide and swallow the kingdom whole—
“Lose soul and spirit!”
At last, the savior arrived.
“Yeomga!”
It was Seoryeong.
