Chapter 114: What You Trampled On / The Path You Have Tread (2)
[Pahaha, let's see you try. I'll be waiting. You better make it fun for me 200 years from now…]
From within the barrier, Yuan Li mocked us and concealed his presence.
"First, we can't discuss our plans in front of the old monster. The leaders of each force should return to their domains and start preparing for the Heaven-Treading Desert massacre and the great war 200 years later!"
Cheongmun Jung-jin spoke and one of the lords of the Eastern States wrapped in white bandages, shouts at us.
"And cultivators at the Core Formation stage from all over the continent should gather again next time to prepare for the meeting. Let's decide when to meet again."
Following his words, the Core Formation cultivators, who have been murmuring for a while, began to gather opinions.
Among them were Core Formation cultivators, including myself, who have lost relatives.
The old man in mourning clothes stood next to Yuan Li's castle with an empty expression.
After a while.
The time and place for the Core Formation Conference was set.
Ten years from now.
The location will be the Northern Grasslands, easily accessible to cultivators from the divided states of the east and the countries of Shengzi, Yanguo, and Byeokra in the west.
It’s the village of the first tribe in the grasslands massacred by Yuan Li.
Invitations for the meeting were given to the heads of each clan, and three of us Core Formation loose cultivators without a faction received invitations as well.
Thus, the Core Formation cultivators, having received the time, place, and invitations, began to return to their original domains using the Flying Escape Technique.
Two tribal chiefs from the Northern Grasslands who lost relatives in the Heaven-Treading Desert massacre.
Cheongmun Jung-jin, who lost Cheongmun Ryeong.
The three loose cultivators and me.
Even after all the Core Formation cultivators left, we remain glaring at the black castle.
Two of the hermits, after a while, suppress their anger and leave in different directions, but the old man in mourning clothes and I, along with Cheongmun Jung-jin, stay until the sun sets.
Staring intently at the black castle, we finally turn our heads when the moon reaches its zenith.
"I will go now. I need to collect the remains of Ryeong."
"...I'll join you."
As soon as the word 'remains' was mentioned, I suddenly came to my senses and looked towards Byeokra.
Cheongmun Jung-jin says to the old man in mourning clothes.
"Sir Wolryang, do you not have remains to collect as well? It's meaningless to keep glaring at the old monster, let's retreat and plan for the future."
"...It doesn't matter."
The old man, Wolryang, grits his teeth and says,
"My great-grandson and his wife weren't killed in this massacre. They were murdered about 10 years ago, and I've been wandering the continent since then, unable to find the beast. Seeing the devilish arts left by the old monster in this massacre, I'm sure he was the one who killed my great-grandchildren. I already collected their remains ten years ago, so don't worry about me and go."
"...Understood."
I read the intent emanating from him and ask.
"You must have cherished your descendants greatly."
Suddenly, he turns to look at me.
He’s about to say something, but after seeing my empty eyes, he’s startled and asks back.
"...Who did you lose?"
"My lover, my teacher, my friends. And my neighbors."
"...I see. My great-grandson... he was the one I cherished the most. I might not know how you feel, and you might not know how I feel... but perhaps we are feeling something similar."
Drip, drip…
Tears mixed with blood falls from his eyes as he grits his teeth.
"It might take hundreds of years, but I want to tear him apart and pickle his flesh... "
He glares at Yuan Li's trapped castle again and speaks.
"Go ahead and collect the remains of those who were lost this time. I will leave tomorrow. I'll suppress this anger and look forward to the day we kill him together."
Cheongmun Jung-jin and I look at him for a moment.
Without a word, we leave him behind and head towards Byeokra.
It didn't take long to reach Cheon-saek City again.
Whoosh―
Cheon-saek City, having endured the desert's sandstorm, is a mess.
"…."
"…."
Blood is splattered everywhere inside the city, and the walls are riddled with holes.
The city gates have collapsed, and only the walls, barely holding their shape, indicate that this place was once a city.
Inside, the scene was still tragic.
The bones of numerous mortals and cultivators lay scattered everywhere.
Cheongmun Jung-jin and I go to where their bodies lay.
Kim Young-hoon, neatly divided into eight parts.
Buk Joong-ho, with his neck missing and a hole in his dantian.
Cheongmun Ryeong, with bloodwood sprouting all over his body.
Buk Hyang-hwa, missing her lower body.
Their remains, exposed to the dry air of the desert for several days, had partially decayed and then dried out, preserved in that state.
Cheongmun Jung-jin silently approaches Cheongmun Ryeong's remains and begins to carefully remove the bloodwood that had sprouted from inside his body.
I first approach Kim Young-hoon and gather his eight separated remains
'His Inner Core is... gone.'
As I reassembled his body, I saw that Kim Young-hoon's dantian is also pierced, and his Inner Core missing.
I then wander around looking for Buk Joong-ho's head and Buk Hyang-hwa's lower body.
I found a piece of flesh that looks to be Buk Joong-ho's neck, but Buk Hyang-hwa's lower body is nowhere to be found.
Reluctantly, I took only Buk Joong-ho's neck and placed it back on his body.
I observe their expressions.
Kim Young-hoon's face bore a look of regret.
But somehow, Buk Joong-ho, Buk Hyang-hwa, and Cheongmun Ryeong died with peaceful expressions, as if they completed what they had to do.
"...I should go now."
Cheongmun Jung-jin, having removed all the bloodwoods from Cheongmun Ryeong's remains and gathered his body, speaks to me while holding him.
"If you wish to attend Ryeong's funeral, come to our main house in a month. I know you were Ryeong's friend, so I'll welcome you."
"...Understood."
Cheongmun Jung-jin, with a pained expression, holds Cheongmun Ryeong's remains and flies away with a dull glow.
I look around.
Skeletons and bodies scattered in every direction.
Dried bloodstains.
And the bodies of those who had died, emaciated and twisted.
Lastly, the body of Buk Hyang-hwa, whose lower half is completely gone and couldn't be found.
Shaking, trembling...
I clench my teeth and my hands tremble.
I extend my consciousness around, searching for any souls that might have remained in this place.
Everyone here had suffered a wrongful death, so I wondered if any had become vengeful spirits.
But there is not a single soul left, not even amongst the powerful cultivators, let alone the mortals.
There had to be resentment, but perhaps...
Gazing at the blazing sun in the sky, I wonder if the intense Yang energy of Cheon-saek City, situated right next to the desert, had caused any remaining souls to ascend forcibly under the sunlight.
For a long time, I stand dumbfoundedly in front of Buk Hyang-hwa's body.
Reality still feels somewhat unreal.
I wish someone would tell me this is all just a terrible nightmare.
Standing there stupidly, I slowly look at Buk Hyang-hwa's face.
Her face, dried up and twisted in death, is reflected in my eyes.
"Ah…"
And then, finally, reality strikes.
"Ah, ahh... ahhhh..."
This is reality.
I am standing in this horrific hell.
"Ahhhhh!"
I collapse to my knees, crawling towards her half-remaining body.
Trembling...
Slowly, very slowly, I reach out to her body, carefully lifting her so as to not damage her any further, and embrace her.
Her body is light.
Lighter than a feather, having lost her lower body and dried out over several days.
Tightly...
I hug her remaining body, supporting the back of her head with one hand, and pressing my forehead against hers.
Our foreheads touch.
Even a third-rate romance novel wouldn't be this absurd.
We couldn't even confess our love for each other.
Everything shattered right before that confession, like a contrived plot twist written by a third-rate author for forced melodrama.
Everything felt forced and contrived.
"Fate…What are you saying to me?!"
Why do you keep taking things away from me!
"Why me!"
Why! Why! Why!!!
Keugh Ughhhh
I move away from Buk Hyang-hwa's body and pound my chest.
Kaghk Kurghh
Bang! Bang!
As I pound my chest, curses in the form of black scripts burst forth from my mouth.
Tick, tock...
Hissssss...
I wonder how many there are.
I count the curses rising around me - approximately three thousand, far surpassing the level of the founder who dealt with 108.
Every martial art carries the intent of its creator, and understanding this intent is to reach the pinnacle of that martial art.
This intent is not limited to martial arts but also exists in cultivation methods.
I finally realize the intent behind the Yin Soul Ghost Incantation, the realization imprinted by its creator.
Human fate is suffering.
Human life is a curse.
This world is made of pain.
I grit my teeth.
A waterfall of emotions pour out.
First comes anger and pain.
Then despair and sorrow.
Followed by guilt and shame.
And Self-loathing for myself.
'I'm sorry, kids.'
I think of my disciples trapped because of my stubbornness, foolishness, and weakness.
The 'anger' instilled in them was partly their own, but also amplified by the cursed souls of their relatives planted by the Jin Clan.
That's why I wanted to stop them.
Back then, I was powerless, foolish, and couldn’t do anything.
That stupid stubbornness was all I could do.
I didn't want to see my disciples die miserably.
But now, I realize how stupid and stubborn my actions were.
'I'm sorry...'
Perhaps, for some people, there are times when they must move for revenge, even if it means a miserable death.
'I stopped you, and yet, now I'm about to make the same choice as you...'
I feel pathetic.
I always have been.
Every time I died.
Every time the cycle reversed.
I was always pathetic and in pain.
It isn't just about losing a loved one.
Now, because of Buk Hyang-hwa’s death, I face all the pain and wounds I had forgotten, sealed by my life up until now.
Holding her body as carefully as a glass craft, I lament.
"I vow..."
The blood around me has dried and turned black.
The smell of blood is faint, dispersed by the sandstorm.
But around me, my domain of consciousness is dyed in blood-red.
It seems like the scent of blood faintly reaches my nose.
"I'll kill him... extract his Golden Core, crush it, pull out his Nascent Soul, tear it apart..."
Surrounded by black curses and red intent, I tightly embrace Buk Hyang-hwa's body, clad in white.
"I'll tear off his limbs... scatter them in the four directions..."
I feel like there is a hole in my chest. A whole filled with pain to the point of numbness.
"I'll rip apart the rest of his body... feed it to the dogs..."
The evening glow falls over Cheon-saek City.
The area around Cheon-saek City is submerged in a red sunset, turning everything crimson.
Our shadows stretch long towards the Heaven-Treading Desert.
"I'll leave only the beast's head... to offer at your..."
I look at her, then around.
Buk Joong-ho, Kim Young-hoon.
Cheongmun Ryeong, who isn't here.
And all the neighbors slaughtered in Cheon-saek City.
The old woman from the paper store, the owner of the sapling store, the guards of Cheon-saek City, lovers, children, women, young men...
"And then... to those trampled by him... I'll burn incense in front of their spirits."
I shout to someone, or perhaps to myself, swearing loudly towards the heavens.
"I vow... I will do this...!"
Definitely.
Definitely...!
Tears of red and black mix and flow down as I vow revenge towards the sky.
I stagger to my feet and slowly begin to collect the remains of others, burying them in Cheon-saek City.
Over several days, Cheon-saek City became a giant cemetery.
Following Buk Hyang-hwa's will, I buried Buk Joong-ho next to his wife Yeon's grave and buried Buk Hyang-hwa's upper body under her workshop.
Then, I entered Buk Hyang-hwa's workshop and started making glass crafts, despite my mediocre refining skills.
I didn't make starfish-like dolls or flowers.
I made what I am best at.
What I am most confident in making.
Glass crafts shaped like swords.
I melted the desert sand and made glass flying swords, one by one.
I planted these glass swords as burial items in front of the graves of the people of Cheon-saek City.
In Byeokra, it’s a funeral tradition to place glass burial items for the deceased.
Cheon-saek City has thousands of glass swords planted in graves, and I finally place a glass saber in front of Kim Young-hoon's grave, creating a Saber Tomb.
Thud!
Tomorrow is Cheongmun Ryeong's funeral at the Cheongmun Clan.
Before heading to the funeral, I sit in front of Buk Hyang-hwa's grave.
I haven't yet offered a glass craft to her.
Even though thousands of glass swords are already behind me.
Perhaps I still don't want to admit that she is dead.
Yes, later.
I'll make the burial gift for her after offering Yuan Li's head to the souls of the people and place it on her grave.
I hold the jade norigae she left for me to my chest and close my eyes.
Tick, crack...
Black tears run down my face.
After a moment of silence in front of her grave, I take out the wooden box she left behind.
Inside the box is not a dharma treasure but a blueprint for creating one.
I read through the blueprint.
Buk Hyang-hwa had created a blueprint for a dharma treasure that met all the conditions I had mentioned.
The name of the dharma treasure is Colorless Glass Sword.
The material is common sand from the desert.
The circuit is simple.
It’s a glass flying sword, the type she most often created with me.
