Part 36 - Netherworld Mado (3)
"That makes eleven."
By some strange trick, the Dark Heaven Venerable One's voice carried so clearly that it felt as though it were right beside her, even from far away.
Se-a turned her head away as she saw him bring Geumju's heart to his lips.
She thought she heard something crunch—crack—a truly horrific sound.
In that instant, her vision was dyed a deep, vivid red.
And then the world changed.
***
"Gyu! If you can hear me, answer!"
With her throat splitting from thirst, Se-a shouted again.
"Is there nobody here?!"
Her voice cracked and tore.
When she forced herself to swallow what little saliva she had left, the stench of blood rose from her throat.
She'd been screaming and wandering while utterly dehydrated, and she'd torn her throat raw.
She wanted to curse until she was hoarse, but her throat hurt so badly she couldn't even manage that.
"Haah…"
She collapsed to the spot.
No matter where she looked—front or back—there were only alleyways stretching on without end.
When she lifted her head to the sky, there was no sun, no moon, no stars, no clouds—only a blood-red sky.
How long has it been since I got trapped in here?
A day? Two? It couldn't have been more than three.
If it had been longer than three days, she would have died of complete dehydration by now.
She wanted to use every survival trick she'd ever learned, but in an environment like this, survival skills were useless.
No matter where she looked, it was nothing but a continuous maze of alleys made from ruined buildings.
She'd even climbed up onto the highest structures she could find—but everywhere her eyes could reach was the same scenery.
By now, she was starting to understand exactly what kind of situation she was in.
This is a formation array.
And not some ordinary one, either—this was a vicious formation array unlike anything she'd even heard of.
Honestly, it wasn't even on the same level as the formation arrays she knew.
If it isn't… then what is it?
All she could do was keep walking forward, clinging to a thread of hope.
So she walked, and walked again.
Where had all her subordinates gone?
Were they safe?
And Gyu… she had internal energy, so she'd be better off than Se-a, at least.
Where had the Dark Heaven Venerable One, the First Young Master Yeon Sang-hyeon, gone?
Would that monster of a man appear and save her?
Countless thoughts drifted through her mind—and drifted away.
Hope turned into anxiety. Anxiety turned into despair.
She couldn't walk anymore.
At some point, she realized she was sprawled on the ground, unable even to rise.
Am I going to die like this?
The thought made her feel bitterly wronged.
There were so many things I still wanted to do…
Regrets scattered one by one inside her head.
And the last thing that remained…
Her younger sister—her only remaining family in the world—
She wanted to see Jeong-a one more time.
I haven't even properly made up with her…
All the cruel words she'd thrown at her—Se-a hated herself for them.
"Jeong-a…"
If she could see her just once more…
"Did you call me, sis?"
A woman was looking down at her.
Pale-white skin, softly full red lips, and a beauty so striking that even another woman would feel jealous.
"Jeong-a?!"
Startled, Se-a sprang up—and then froze, shocked at how easily her body had risen.
"Huh? What the…?"
Jeong-a smiled at her in a way that made her heart settle.
"It's okay now. This barrier is just that kind of barrier."
"A barrier?"
Jeong-a nodded.
"Yes. I heard that people call this kind of formation array a barrier."
"Then how did you get here—"
That was when Se-a noticed something strange.
"Jeong-a! Your eyes…?!"
Jeong-a's irises had always been very lightly colored, but they'd never been golden.
And her pupils—like a serpent's—were narrow, vertical slits.
"You don't need to worry. It's nothing."
Jeong-a laughed awkwardly, then seized Se-a's hand.
"Come on, sis. Hold on tight."
"N-no, wait a sec—!"
Still gripping Se-a's hand, Jeong-a strode straight into a collapsed wall in the ruins.
No—she looked like she was crashing into it, but she passed through it naturally, as if the wall wasn't there at all.
Cold air filled Se-a's lungs, and a shiver ran through her bones.
When Se-a opened the eyes she'd squeezed shut, the scene before her was the very street from before she'd been trapped in the barrier.
"Jeong-a… how did you—?"
Jeong-a didn't let go of her hand.
"We haven't completely left the area of influence yet."
With no choice, Se-a kept holding her sister's hand and walked where Jeong-a led.
"Then what about Gyu? The others?"
"You were the last one. You don't have to worry."
Jeong-a walked briskly, reassuring her.
"Did you save everyone? You said it was a barrier, right? It started the exact moment Geumju died—"
As Se-a fired questions at her in a rush, Jeong-a answered each one calmly, step by step.
"Yes. I brought everyone else to a safe place. Yes, it's called a barrier. No—she didn't die."
"…What?"
Jeong-a glanced back mid-stride and smiled.
"Master is tracking her right now, so we should hurry and go before we're late."
Being dragged along, Se-a shouted at her.
"No—why would we go there?! If Geumju's alive, it's dangerous! If we run into her first—!"
Jeong-a stopped dead.
"Jeong-a?"
Jeong-a looked at Se-a and spoke.
"Wasn't there something you wanted to say to him, sis?"
Her voice held a strangely powerful certainty.
"I…"
Those golden eyes felt like they could see clean through her.
"…You're right. I want to speak with the First Young Master."
Jeong-a smiled brightly.
"Then let's hurry."
Jeong-a's swift steps began again.
But unlike before—when she'd been helplessly dragged along—this time Se-a matched her pace.
"Still… you know where the First Young Master is?"
"Yes."
Jeong-a replied as if it were nothing.
"Because right now… I can see everything."
***
The Black Bone Sect's headquarters.
"Oh—he's coming!"
With a swaying, shambling gait, a ghost walked in.
No one tried to stop the Dark Heaven Venerable One in the white mask.
Everyone had already witnessed the moment their strongest fighters were annihilated.
The only reason anyone remained at headquarters was because Geumju's barrier left them nowhere to run.
"A g-ghost! An evil spirit!"
"Aaaaargh!!"
Just by walking forward, the remaining forces of the Black Bone Sect scattered like grains of sand.
"It's the Dark Heaven Venerable One! He's going to kill us all!"
Some even cried out his name as though it were the name of death itself.
"D-don't run! Anyone who runs, I'll cut off their head!"
A lieutenant's shout dissolved into emptiness.
In the blink of an eye, only a mid-ranking officer stood there, vacant-eyed, alone in the vast courtyard.
Swaying closer, the Dark Heaven Venerable One approached him.
"D-don't come!"
Those were his last words.
Sang-hyeon stepped onto him with the technique of Thousand-Catties Drop.
Bones shattered. Muscles tore.
With each step, a spray of blood burst outward.
The Dark Heaven Venerable One whistled.
It was the familiar tune.
Eerie, and yet somehow desperate—its sound wrapped around the Black Bone Sect's stronghold as it fell into chaos.
No one could escape.
Wherever he walked, red footprints followed him.
Unhesitatingly, he followed the scent.
And he reached a vast underground hollow beneath the headquarters.
Then his steps stopped.
"…I was waiting."
Before him stood Geumju's chief steward.
His voice was dazed—yet somewhere within it was relief.
After staring silently at the ominously light-reflecting white mask, the old man lowered his head in greeting.
For some reason, he'd always been certain this moment would come.
"If you're looking for Geumju, she escaped through a hidden passage in the small room over there. It's concealed by mechanisms, but…"
He answered without being asked.
"Well. For you, it doesn't matter either way."
The Dark Heaven Venerable One looked past him.
The entire hollow behind the chief steward was filled with corpses.
"This is…"
"Geumju ordered that everyone without combat ability be locked inside this hollow."
After she left headquarters to face the Dark Heaven Venerable One, the chief steward had hurried back here.
And what he found was a scene where everything within his sight was dead.
Children. Girls. Boys. Men. Women. Maids. Servants—everyone was dead.
On the floor of the hollow, viscera and blood spilled from split bellies had dried into patterns—patterns so ominous they seemed cursed.
Traces of grand sorcery.
From the final expressions and final gestures of the dead, one could tell how much they had suffered.
Not a single one had even been able to close their eyes.
"Only then did I realize something had gone wrong—wrong beyond words."
Yeon Sang-hyeon's gaze shifted toward a corner.
There, bodies lay one by one, arranged with care.
It seemed the old man had been tending to them until just before Yeon Sang-hyeon arrived.
"They're all dead. What use is any of this now?"
"No use."
The chief steward knelt where he stood and quietly closed his eyes.
Born in the slums, surviving on back-alley life for more than a full sixty-year cycle—
He'd seen countless horrors.
And the evils he'd committed with his own hands were beyond counting.
Did he feel guilt now?
No.
To survive, he had abetted evil—and carried it out himself.
And every excuse made it easier to overlook greater evil… and commit greater evil.
So now, in the end, this gesture was…
Yes. Nothing but a small whim from an old man.
Thud.
A head—wearing a faintly relieved smile—rolled across the ground.
"…"
The Dark Heaven Venerable One's gaze lingered briefly on the smile that remained.
Then it moved to the faces soaked in the agony of those who had been sacrificed in the ritual.
There were hundreds.
What should be blamed?
That they were born weak?
That they were born into an environment where it was hard to find any other path?
That when someone fought desperately to live, they inevitably harmed someone else—that they grew up in a place like that?
That there were countless places like that, and countless people like that, in the city called Luoyang?
That across from it, a glittering city center shone so brilliantly it forgot even the night?
That this world praised such cities as "great cities"?
If you must blame something—
Blame the unkind heavens.
Blame the earth.
"And hate me as well."
If you wish to curse something, curse the Swordless man who wanted to remain clean—who let his hands fall idle while he composed poetry, played instruments, and looked away from the world.
He didn't think any deeper than that.
Perhaps Swordless Yeon Sang-hyeon might have.
But the man here was the Dark Heaven Venerable One.
He was not a thinker.
He was an executioner.
He simply whistled.
The tune was still beautiful.
And it was mournful.
In a place where no one lived, a melody no one heard echoed softly.
For whom did it resonate so sorrowfully within the hollow?
He began walking again.
Blood still clung to his steps.
As if it would never dry, it continued to paint his trail red.
Beneath his white mask, dew glittered.
That dew was—far too hot.