NABC Book 2: Chapter 11
Book 2: Chapter 11
Book 2: Chapter 11
“With this, eleven.”
The voice of the Sovereign of Dark Heavens could be heard clearly from afar, as if some cosmic harmony made it possible.
Se-ah turned her head as she saw him bring Geumju’s heart to his lips.
*Squelch*—a gruesome sound seemed to ring out.
In that instant, her vision was awash in crimson.
And then the world changed.
***
“Gyu! If you can hear me, answer!”
Feeling her throat parched to the point of cracking, Se-ah cried out once more.
“Is anyone even here?!”
Her voice quivered with desperation.
Swallowing dry saliva, the smell of blood rose up from her throat.
Yelling had scraped her throat so much that it had started to bleed.
She wanted to curse out loud but her throat hurt too much to even do so.
“Sigh.”
She sank down right where she was.
Looking forward, backward—only a never-ending alley stretched out before her.
When she looked up, there was neither sun nor moon, stars nor clouds; only a blood-red sky lay before her eyes.
‘Just how much time has passed since I got trapped here?’
A day? Two days? Surely, no more than three days.
If it were more than three days, she would be fully dehydrated and dead by now.
She wished to apply survival techniques she had learned, but in such an environment, they were utterly useless.
All she could see were ruins that made up endless alleys.
Even when she climbed up a tall building to get a better view, the landscape was the same as far as her eyes could see.
By now, she was fairly certain about the situation she was trapped in.
‘This is a formation.’
And it was an incredibly cruel one, unlike any she’d ever heard of.
Honestly, it was on a completely different level from the formations she knew.
‘Or what else could it be?’
The only thing she could do was hold onto a sliver of hope and keep walking.
So she walked on, yet again.
Where had all her subordinates gone?
Were they alright?
As for Gyu... With her inner energy, she would be better off than her.
Where had the Sovereign of Dark Heavens, the Grand young master Yeon So-Hyeon, gone?
Would that monster of a man appear to rescue her?
Numerous thoughts passed through her mind.
Hope turned into anxiety, and anxiety into despair.
She couldn’t walk anymore.
At some point, she realized she had collapsed on the ground, unable to rise.
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The thought of dying like this felt so unfair.
‘I had so many things I still wanted to do...’
Regrets scattered one by one in her mind.
And what remained at the end was...
Her own sister, the only blood relative left in the world,
Jung-ah. She wanted to see her one more time.
‘I haven’t even fully vented my frustrations yet...’
She regretted her own actions, always spouting harsh words.
“Jung-ah...”
If only she could see her one last time.
“Did you call me, sister?”
A woman was looking down at her.
With snow-white skin, plump red lips, and beauty to make even other women jealous, it was Jung-ah.
“Jung-ah?!”
Se-ah startled, bolting upright from her position.
Then she was surprised to find that she could stand up as if nothing had happened.
“What? What’s going on?”
Jung-ah responded with a comforting smile.
“It’s okay now. This formation is just that kind of barrier.”
“A barrier?”
Jung-ah nodded.
Wherever he went, red footprints followed.
Following a scent, he reached a large underground cavern beneath the base.
And his footsteps ceased.
“...I’ve been waiting for you.”
Before him was Geumju’s general, her subordinate.
The man’s voice sounded hollow yet somewhat relieved.
He stared silently at a white mask that reflected a menacing light, then bowed his head in greeting.
“If you’re looking for Geumju, she escaped through a secret passage in that small room. It’s concealed by mechanisms, but for you... I suppose it won’t matter.”
The Sovereign of Dark Heavens looked past him.
“This is...”
The vast cavern behind the general was filled with corpses.
“She ordered everyone without combat abilities to be imprisoned here.”
Previously, after Geumju had left to face the Sovereign of Dark Heavens, the general had returned to find this scene. And all he saw were sights of death: children, girls, boys, men, women, maids, servants—all dead.
The floor of the cavern was covered in entrails and blood from their torn-open bellies, dried into very ominous patterns.
Traces of a grand ritual.
The agony they must have experienced could be felt in their final expressions and postures.
None had even closed their eyes.
“I sensed something wrong back then.”
Yeon So-hyeon looked toward a corner.
There lay the bodies, one by one, each meticulously laid out.
It seemed that an elder had been tending to them just before he arrived.
“What use is there now that they’re all dead?”
“No use.”
The general knelt in place and closed his eyes.
Born in a slum and living off the back alleys for over a sexagenary cycle, he had seen much and committed countless misdeeds.
Was he feeling guilty just now?
No.
He had facilitated and committed evil deeds just to survive.
Such justification led to overlooking greater sins, committing greater atrocities.
Doing this now is...
“Yes, just an old man’s petty whim.”
Thud.
A head rolled on the ground, wearing a somewhat relieved smile.
“...”
Sovereign of Dark Heavens’s gaze momentarily lingered on the smile remaining on the severed head.
And then it rested on the faces of the many who had suffered and died for the ritual.
They numbered in the hundreds.
Who should they resent?
Being born weak?
Being born into an environment where finding another path was difficult?
Having grown up in places where one person’s struggle for life harms another?
A city like Luoyang, full of such places and people, yet celebrated as a metropolis?
The bright cityscape right across, where they even forget about the night?
And a world that praises such cities?
If you wish to resent, resent the unforgiving sky, the earth.
“And hate me.”
Wishing to stay clean-handed,
Curse the swordsman who simply let go, wrote poetry, played music, and turned a blind eye to the world.
He didn’t think any deeper than that.
***
If it were the swordless Yeon So-hyeon, it might be different,
But now he was Sovereign of Dark Heavens.
Now, he was not a philosopher but an executor.
He merely whistled.
The melody was still beautiful. And it was sorrowful.
In a place where no one was alive,
A melody that no one heard reverberated softly.
For whom did that melody so sorrowfully echo within the empty hall?
He moved his feet again.
Still, his footsteps were stained with blood.
That blood ceaselessly dyed his footsteps red, as if it would never dry.
Beneath his white mask, dewdrops glistened.
Those dewdrops felt exceedingly hot.