Chapter 57: He Won’t Be Coming For A While

Snake-Eyes’ qi bullet missed.

It wasn’t because he’d aimed poorly, nor because I diverted it away with a shift.

What saved my life was the Sword Emperor’s Heir’s hand. He threw himself forward and brushed Snake-Eyes’ arm just enough to twist the shot off course, and thanks to that I narrowly avoided having that qi shell slam into my abdomen.

Dragged back from the jaws of death, I was furious. And three things happened at once.

First, Han U-gyeong shouted at Snake-Eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing, Chu!”

Not exactly helpful to me.

Second, Snake-Eyes suddenly turned his back and bolted. The man had excellent survival instincts.

Third, because he’d reacted so quickly, the thunderbolt I’d fired ended up hitting empty air, and my anger flared even hotter.

Springing back to my feet, I made as if to chase him.

Fortunately, Han U-gyeong stopped me.

“Let it go, boy. I’ll hold him accountable later.”

I pretended to relent and straightened from the crouch I’d taken to launch myself.

The Sword Emperor’s Heir apologized to me.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

My qi and blood were boiling so hard that I couldn’t answer right away.

Truthfully, the inside of my body was a mess. The internal injuries from my fierce battle with Iron Horse had flared up again from going all out to deal with Han U-gyeong’s pressure.

Taking my silence for anger, the Heir hurried to explain himself.

“I never imagined he’d try to ambush you. I really didn’t—”

At last, I could move my tongue enough to cut him off.

“None of this is your fault. You saved my life. Thanks, Jigwang.”

The Heir’s handsome face took on the expression of a man clubbed in the back of the head.

Was my thanks really that shocking?

For some reason, I felt a twinge of petty irritation.

Hey, pretty boy. I’m not the kind of man who forgets a debt.

“Did you know that? This is the first time you’ve ever called me by name, brother.”

Realizing I’d misstepped, I hid my embarrassment behind a crooked grin. I was about to crack a joke when Han U-gyeong interrupted.

“The fault is mine. In trying to get at the truth, I pushed you too hard. And it was careless of me not to take measures in advance, knowing he might try to harm you.”

I didn’t blame Han U-gyeong.

The danger I’d just been in was entirely due to my own lack of ability. I hadn’t had the leeway to pay attention to Snake-Eyes as well, but I still should have prepared for him.

“No, Elder. He’s the villain here. By the way, you certainly ran me ragged—did you get to the bottom of what you wanted to know?”

At my impish question, Han U-gyeong’s lips curved into a bitter smile.

“Your specialty isn’t sword or saber—it’s your movement art. Truly astonishing.”

A perfect answer.

I released the heavy question I’d had lodged in my gut.

“With respect, Elder…compared to Sword King, where does your strength stand?”

Han U-gyeong answered without hesitation.

“I don’t measure up to the soles of his feet.”

Nonsense.

If you’d said that about me, maybe—but Han U-gyeong? No chance.

I made no effort to hide my dissatisfaction.

“Forgive me, but that’s taking modesty much too far.”

Han U-gyeong let out a dry chuckle, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but said nothing more.

I pressed a little further.

“You and he are fellow disciples, aren’t you?”

I wasn’t just fishing.

Han U-gyeong had smoothly reproduced the Sword Emperor’s Heir’s ‘Thunder, Wind, and Rain’.

The Heir had said Sword King was his master, so Han U-gyeong and Sword King were most likely senior and junior disciples of the same lineage.

“Yes. The two of us both inherited the Sword Vein of Mu Hyeon.”

“Which of you is older, if I may ask?”

“I’m nine years his senior. When he was young, I even guided him for a time. But from the time he passed twenty, I never once managed to surpass his sword. He is a genius of a different order than a common man like me.”

I was astonished.

Thirty-three years ago, when he went to the Citadel and cut off Asura Sword Army’s arm for running his mouth, Sword King had already been an old man.

By now, he had to be at least ninety.

Which meant this old man before me was over a hundred years old.

Only now did I realize that when Han U-gyeong had said the day before that his time in this world was short, it hadn’t been some stock phrase that old men toss around.

Apparently uncomfortable continuing to talk about Sword King, Han U-gyeong turned his gaze to the Sword Emperor’s Heir and changed the subject.

“In any case…what will you do now? Your master ordered me to bring you back to the Citadel.”

The Heir’s lips—those enviably shapely lips—twisted, then he spoke in a firm voice.

“The words I spoke to Master when I left the Citadel still stand, Old Master. I won’t return until I’ve defeated this man. I’m sorry, but please convey my intent to Master.”

Han U-gyeong stared steadily at the Heir for a long time.

It was an issue of enormous importance to me, but it wasn’t my place to butt in, so I held my tongue.

At last, Han U-gyeong spoke.

“Heh heh, so be it. But I’ll have to put off telling your master for a while.”

“Why?”

“The one who knows the way has run off. I’ve no way to get back to the Citadel.

Until your master sends someone else after hearing Chu’s report, I’ll have to stay with you. Will that be all right?”

The last question was directed at me.

“Of course, Elder. But as I see it, Snake-Eyes—no, that Jo Chu fellow—probably won’t be going back to the Citadel. Nine times out of ten, he’ll take this chance to return to Ma-ryeon instead.”

Instead of refuting my speculation, Han U-gyeong nodded.

“That may be. For the last eight years he hasn’t been able to fit in with us, only orbit from the outside. His progress has been negligible. Unable to shed his old habits, he must have been frustrated as well.

Returning to his homeland might be the best choice for both him and the Citadel.”

Looking back at the Heir, Han U-gyeong murmured to himself.

“The question is, what now? Well, if it weighs on him, your master will come himself. You can tell him in person then.”

I’d inwardly cheered when Han U-gyeong decided to join us.

Now, I felt a chill.

I might not have gained a mighty army, but summoned a grim reaper instead.

Sword King was every bit as dangerous as Poison King.

I was going to have to think hard about whether I ought to send Han U-gyeong and the Sword Emperor’s Heir back to the Citadel.

---

Gwaeseon and the Mad Guest treated Han U-gyeong with extreme respect—not because he was older than they were, but because I’d quietly told them he was a master whose depth I couldn’t measure.

Gwaeseon had looked doubtful at first, but seeing how serious my expression was, he accepted it as truth.

I was not the sort to crack jokes when it came to strength.

Han U-gyeong’s gaze barely left Jin Sowol.

She was a spring that could enthrall any man, young or old, but that wasn’t why he was interested in her.

His interest lay with the Sword Emperor’s Heir.

Even someone completely ignorant of romance could see how deeply the Heir had fallen for Jin Sowol.

Perhaps aware of Han U-gyeong’s presence, Jin Sowol refrained from her usual chilly attitude toward the Heir and treated him gently.

Even so, it seemed Han U-gyeong had already worked out not only the balance between the two of them, but how I fit into it all as well.

A complicated light flickered in his eyes when he looked at me.

I was uneasy.

Han U-gyeong’s love for the Heir was as obvious as the Heir’s love for Jin Sowol—and there was every chance that love might turn into hostility toward me.

To be fair, the same was true of the Heir.

I wanted Jin Sowol to confess her secret to him.

If he learned she was a woman for whom union was impossible, maybe he would give up on her.

Wouldn’t that solve everything?

Though I knew it was something I should leave to her, I decided to press her to resolve it sooner rather than later.

After Gwaeseon and the Mad Guest left with the Heir and Han U-gyeong for the marsh to train, I stayed behind at the manor under the pretext of “discussing future plans,” then headed down to Jin Sowol’s underground stone room.

Sitting on the bed that had effectively become my personal spot, I came straight out with it.

“What are you going to do?”

She feigned ignorance, though there was no way she didn’t know what I meant.

“About what?”

“The pretty boy.”

“About Lord Song?”

“Let’s not waste time. Are you just going to leave him like that?”

“What else can I do?”

“You need to take some kind of action.”

“What kind of action?”

“How should I know that? You’re the one who ought to have the answer.”

Jin Sowol stared at me, then let her distinctive bitter smile hang from those lovely lips.

“You really think if I confess I can’t be with a man, he’ll give up his feelings for me?”

“…”

“I didn’t know you were such a naïve person, Lord Jeon.”

“You’re saying he won’t?”

“I can’t swear to it one hundred percent—since I’m not him.

But I can say with nine parts out of ten certainty that even if he learns I’m a mass of poison, he won’t give me up.

On the contrary, he’ll become even more attached.

Because what he wants isn’t my body.

He’ll probably try to prove the purity and sincerity of his love by embracing my physical flaws.

Why should I make a confession that will only backfire?”

I wanted to call it overconfidence.

But I had a feeling she’d be right, and held my tongue.

“You remember I asked before what I’d do if the Sword Citadel sent people to bring Lord Song back?

He himself was my contingency plan.

Not that I tipped him off in advance or anything.

I simply believed that no matter who came, Lord Song would refuse to return.

Unless they took him by force, the Sword King’s envoys wouldn’t be able to bring him back.

And the odds of that happening were extremely low.”

“…”

Leaning forward to close the distance between us, Jin Sowol ran her slender, pale fingers across the back of my hand, thick as a pot lid.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t even touch you a little?”

“If you keep breaking your promises, I’ll have to do something about it.”

Pfft. Jin Sowol actually laughed aloud.

“You won’t be leaving me for a while, Lord Jeon.

Not while Lord Song is here.

And not while that elder is staying by his side.

Just thinking about sparring with that elder has your heart pounding, doesn’t it?

You were desperate to cross swords with someone stronger—and someone perfect for that has appeared.”

“Damn it, is it really that fun for you to read people like that?”

“I don’t do it with just anyone. Only with people who are special to me—”

“That’s enough. Cut it out.”

Realizing she was treading into dangerous waters, Jin Sowol wiped the smile from her eyes and lips.

“I know what you’re worried about.

I don’t have any sharp, clever solution either.

In this kind of situation, all you can do is manage things so they don’t reach an extreme and leave the rest to time.

The heart isn’t eternal and unchanging.

No one knows when or how it’ll shift.

Who can say?

A year or two from now, or ten, twenty years…

Maybe you and I, or Lord Song and I, will find ourselves in the exact opposite positions from now.

So let’s just see what happens.”

“…”

“I have the right to express my feelings for you, and you have the right not to accept them.

Lord Song has the right to harbor feelings for me, and I have the right to refuse him.

All any of us can do is do our best, from where we stand, to achieve what we want.

If our wishes come true, that’s good.

If they don’t, we bear it.

The joy of love fulfilled and the pain of heartbreak both belong solely to each of us.”

“…”

“Let me ask just one thing.

I know it’s a childish, foolish question, but I can’t stand not knowing.

If I were to become Lord Song’s lover someday, what would you do, Lord Jeon?

Would you cheerfully acknowledge and bless our love?

Or…”

I stared straight at Jin Sowol, who let her words trail off, and answered coldly.

“If that ever happens, I’ll think about it then.

But I hope you don’t toy with him just to test me.”

Jin Sowol answered with a bitter smile.

I rose from the bed.

“I’ll be going. I won’t be coming here again for a while.”

A declaration I wouldn’t keep.

The very next day, I had to return to the manor.

[End of Chapter]