Call Of The Spear [EN]: Chapter 137

Tales of a Wandering Swordsman – 136

I couldn’t do anything.

Rather, I didn’t do anything.

I just stood there, watching.

They were beings beyond humans, wielding bizarre divine powers.

I was just a beast.

A beast unable to utter a single word.

Therefore, I stood by.

As Hwaran stabbed the old monster’s dantian [energy center located in the abdomen].

Thwack!

“Ugh, you bitch!”

Smack!

The old monster was a Taecheon [Great Heaven], while Hwaran was a Hwancheon [Returning Heaven].

She attempted a surprise attack but failed to kill him.

The Taecheon’s fire spirit wasn’t in his dantian.

Only Hwaran’s dantian was destroyed by the old monster’s killing move.

“I was going to cherish you for your beautiful face, but… Fine. Since you want to die so badly, I’ll show you all kinds of humiliation!”

It was then.

Bang! Boom!

Aaaagh!

Explosions and screams filled the air.

It was the Ten Thousand Feet Demon Army’s assault.

A surprise attack on the wedding day of the Jongnam and Hwasan sects.

Not a bad strategy.

The old monster gnashed his teeth and rushed outside, while Hwaran coughed up blood, a smile forming on her lips.

She was about to die, yet she was smiling so happily. I approached her and sat down silently beside her.

“Why are you looking… at me like that? Do you still find me so lovely?”

Even though she was bleeding profusely and spitting blood, she was beautiful.

That’s how she appeared in my eyes.

The crimson blood seemed to paint a picture on her jade-like skin.

On the verge of death, she was still beautiful to me.

But sadly, all I was allowed to do was stay by her side.

I felt deeply sorry for that.

“Ah… It’s noisy and nice.”

Outside, the sounds of the demon army’s breathing, the screams of the Taoists, and the explosions of battle were pouring down like rain.

But we seemed quite detached from it all.

It could be called strange.

To me, everything still felt like a hazy, dazed dream.

What I was seeing.

What I was feeling.

Was it truly reality?

Like Zhuang Zhou’s Butterfly Dream [a philosophical allegory about the nature of reality], I couldn’t tell if this was a dream or reality.

If there was one thing certain, it was that her fading breath was heartbreaking.

“Taeho…”

She called me.

Taeho.

That was my name here.

The name she gave me.

“They say… if a tiger eats a person, that person becomes a changui [a vengeful ghost].”

She tried to smile.

Even though it must have been hard.

I looked down at her.

“Even if I die like this, we might be reborn and meet again… But what good would that do? I… I didn’t even want to live like this. I… I…”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

Tears also welled up in my eyes.

She was always playful.

Always mischievous.

It was the first time I had seen her cry.

I didn’t like it.

I didn’t want to see it.

I didn’t want her to speak.

I wanted her to live a little longer.

Longer than now.

More than now.

* * *

“What are you saying! Th-that can’t be! I, I was married to Father in my previous life! Th-that’s impossible! How can a person return to being a baby!”

My hands and feet trembled.

I don’t know why.

They just trembled.

As my hands and feet trembled, my whole body trembled.

Why?

I don’t know.

My head ached.

It was as if a goblin was squeezing and twisting my head; it hurt so much.

The hair on my body stood on end, and cold sweat ran down my spine.

“The person you call Mother is a fellow disciple who lived with me. I made her do a terrible thing, entrusting such a false role to an unmarried woman. She also used to spend a lot of time with you when you were alive…”

I didn’t want to hear it.

I didn’t want to listen.

I covered my ears.

“I know you’re confused. But now I want you to understand my heart too. I also don’t know what to do. Should I treat you as my wife, or as my daughter?”

I don’t want to hear it.

Don’t say it.

“I don’t know anymore either. Whether you are my one and only wife, or my one and only daughter. I don’t know.”

I don’t know either.

Don’t ask me things like that.

“You’ll need time to think. Until our thoughts are sorted out… I’ll come back when that time comes.”

With that, Father disappeared.

I collapsed and wept bitterly.

I didn’t know why I was crying, but I cried like a child.

Even as I cried, I wondered why I was crying.

But I couldn’t know.

I think I cried for a month straight.

Then, I suddenly remembered.

Am I Hwabong now?

Or am I Yoonjung?

I have lived as Hwabong for over 300 years.

But before that, I supposedly lived as Yoonjung for over a thousand years.

Am I Hwabong or Yoonjung?

I had to make a decision.

But I was scared.

It felt like choosing one would kill and negate the other.

I couldn’t choose.

* * *

My master’s death was pathetic.

Even a Taecheon was no different in the face of death.

As if he was now sweetly accepting the lifespan he had defied, he turned to dust and weathered away.

The death of a Taecheon turning into a handful of dust was endlessly pathetic.

The truth he revealed was the same.

“He should have just kept quiet.”

He should have just buried it in his heart.

Why did he bring up old things and make people’s hearts so troubled?

The confused mind spread and blurred like ink dropped in a river.

I believed that destroying evil was the way.

That’s why I killed the yōkai [supernatural entities in Japanese folklore].

But it wasn’t.

The yōkai were not evil.

Evil to me was my master.

And the Taoists.

“Honggyeong. Don’t be too sad. Isn’t it all the will of heaven?”

A hollow laugh escaped me.

To comfort me, he said it must be the will of heaven.

What is the will of heaven, and what is the Dao [the natural order of the universe]?

Why is it so difficult, why is it so confusing?

I have lived for over 600 years, but I still don’t know anything.

Is this life also the will of heaven?

Does this life even have meaning?

600 years have all been in vain.

“Is it heaven that is fleeting, or is it my life?”

I staggered out of Wudang Mountain.

I didn’t know where to go.

Wherever my feet led, wherever my eyes fell.

I walked and walked.

I even encountered yōkai.

But I didn’t kill them.

I watched them closely.

The yōkai were afraid of me.

Just because I was a Taoist, they fled into the deep forests and mountains.

Then, one of the commoners approached me and bowed.

“Thanks to you, Taoist, the yōkai have fled, so our village is safe!”

I stared blankly at him and asked.

“Did those yōkai harm you?”

“Huh? No… It’s not that, but you never know what might happen. Yōkai are wicked things…”

“Is that so…”

Yōkai are wicked things.

Who decided that?

* * *

I learned the secret of the Water Moon Gate, but I continued to practice relentlessly.

When I was 745 years old, I became a Taecheon.

Many people congratulated me.

Some were jealous, but everyone smiled in front of me.

One day, as I was stabilizing my realm.

My master told me that now that I had become a Taecheon representing the Water Moon Gate, he would teach me a secret art.

For a moment, my heart fluttered.

I felt recognized.

But that feeling didn’t last long.

The secret art that my master taught me was the secret I had been trying so hard to deny.

“What is all this?”

“The ancestors of Water Moon called this Wawi Jongja (Snails as Offspring).”

There were countless snails.

Those snails were cradling huge eggs like mothers.

The inside of the eggs was clearly visible.

They were babies.

Tiny, fist-sized children were curled up as if they were in their mother’s womb.

“Why… No, how…”

“It’s inherently difficult for those born after the heavens to achieve greatness, and those born before the heavens are born as rarely as beans sprouting in a drought, so they don’t stand out. Then, the ancestors came up with an idea: Let’s create those born before the heavens.”

I listened quietly.

My master proudly spoke about the secret art and efficacy of Wawi Jongja.

I silently nodded.

“This snail is a very special one. It tends to be non-aggressive, living peacefully its whole life and disappearing as if it were never there. But by chance, when they were fed blood, they created clones with it. Yes! At first, they were just clones! Snails. But by improving and supplementing it, they eventually made it no different from humans!”

He seemed really proud.

It was a really great secret art.

A tremendous idea.

I listened quietly.

I listened and listened.

“From now on, you will be in a position to take responsibility for the Water Moon Gate, so don’t reveal this secret.”

My master said that and disappeared with a satisfied smile.

It was amazing.

Creating those born before the heavens artificially with things called Wawi Jongja.

It was a great secret art.

But that was it.

I had roughly guessed it.

I was also one of the Wawi Jongja, created by the Water Moon Gate.

So I just listened.

What did I want?

Did I want my master to say that I was born the same as these and to take good care of them?

Or did I want an apology for not telling me all this time?

What did I want?

What did I want to hear that I was just listening?

Suddenly, I felt empty.

But nothing changed.

I am the Supreme Elder of the Water Moon Gate.

My position is the Water Moon Gate.

So I continued to practice.

All I was good at was training.

Training was my life and my goal.

As time passed.

One day.

“Master! The commoners are holding a festival!”

My disciple said.

She was a small and pretty child.

“Do you want to go?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, go carefully.”

But the disciple didn’t run out right away and was staring blankly at me.

When I asked why.

“What about Master?”

I said I didn’t have time because I was focusing on training.

When I told her that, she frowned her pretty eyebrows.

“Why?”

I hadn’t been there because I was focused on training.

When I told her that, she widened her eyes in surprise and pulled on my sleeve.

“Let’s go together! It’ll be fun!”

I said I had to train.

But when the disciple puffed out her cheeks and urged me, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly.

I ended up going to see something called a festival.

The commoners were dancing with lion masks and carrying red lanterns.

They were also creating cheerful sounds with ear-tickling instruments.

They were making and eating delicious food, full of energy and affection.

I stared blankly at it for a while.

I stared blankly.

Then, the disciple pulled on my sleeve.

“Let’s dance too!”

At the disciple’s urging, I joined the crowd and shrugged my shoulders and swayed my body like the commoners did. The disciple smiled brightly and was happy.

When I asked what was so good.

“Master is having fun.”

She said.

When I asked what she meant, she suddenly picked up a mirror from a stall and showed it to me.

“Master is smiling too! I’ve never seen that before!”

In the mirror, a middle-aged man was raising the corners of his mouth.

It was my face.

It was Kang Ryong’s smile.

I was having fun.

Mixed in with a mere commoner’s festival.

I was having fun.

When I realized that, the festival was fun.

The songs were cheerful, the food and alcohol pleased the tongue, and the faces of the people having fun were heartwarming.

I regretted it.

Why didn’t I know this sooner?

Suddenly, tears flowed.

About 700 years ago, if I had come to the festival once at the urging of my fellow disciple, would my life have changed?

Suddenly, my life felt foolish.

From the colorful colors of the festival, only I seemed to be detached and faded.

“Master! Dance!”

The disciple pulled me.

As I danced with the little child, the people around me applauded and cheered.

My heart swelled.

I seemed to have color too.

The same color as them.

After that.

I gradually began to change.

I, who had done nothing but train, began to take an interest in other things.

I memorized the names of the disciples and asked about the well-being of my fellow disciples.

People dismissed it as unusual for someone who didn’t do that, but after doing it for a few years, people started to smile brightly at me.

They said they were happy to see me.

Then, I was also happy.

I was happy.

Why didn’t I know this joy and live like that all along?

It’s all thanks to the disciple.

One day, my master sent a letter.

He said that he would use my disciple and other disciples in a useful way.

At first, I didn’t know what he meant.

I went straight to my master.

“Hmm? What’s wrong? I should have sent my letter…”

“Where is my disciple?”

My master stared at me for a long time, then suddenly let out a hollow laugh.

“That’s something, for you to show such emotion. Didn’t I write it in my letter? They are failures, so there is no need to keep them anymore. I used them as nourishment for my Bonseonbeoppae [a secret and evil Taoist technique], so know that.”

Only then did I see the surroundings.

Flesh and blood were splattered everywhere.

My disciple was dead.

When I thought about that, tears came to my eyes.

“Ha! Are you crying? Why? Those guys are Wawi Jongja! And they are failures! They are neither human nor anything from the beginning. How can someone who is advancing on the Dao show tears for them!”

I sobbed for a long time.

Then I answered.

“Then I must not be human either! Did you think I wouldn’t know!? Why don’t you try killing me too! As you say, there is one more here who is not human!!”