Call Of The Spear [EN]: Chapter 237

Nangseon’s Romantic Tale – Episode 236

Though not a single breeze stirred in the space created by Gongjeonggang [a powerful, self-contained area], Sangun’s heart fluttered slightly.

“…”

When Sangun remained silent, Charyuk opened her mouth with an indifferent expression.

“You must do it.”

“Why me?”

“Because you are the master of this sword.”

Charyuk, having learned Zen riddles from Bong, only spoke in cryptic words.

As he frowned, she took a sip of tea and continued.

“I’m going to die soon anyway. Living for nearly three thousand years is long enough.”

Though the resentment within her remained unresolved.

“Originally, for anything alive, accepting death is also a natural order.”

“So, you’re asking me to kill you?”

“That’s not it.”

Charyuk stroked the blade of the sword on her lap.

“You know well that my form has been altered by the Simma [a demonic influence].”

“Indeed…”

“My Simma grows uncontrollably as death approaches. It is suppressed now, but…”

Charyuk readily removed a piece of her palace attire, revealing her shoulder.

On her shoulder blade, something black, resembling scales, was growing.

And the skin around it was turning black, spreading like an infection.

“Do you know what happens when a Taoist is captured by Simma?”

“I don’t know in detail. I’ve heard that they become demons.”

“Simma is when Mara [a demon] settles in the heart.

And that Mara tends to attract other Mara. It’s impossible to know whether it’s a Mara wandering from Gucheon [a high-dimensional realm] or something else.”

However.

“Those who are possessed by Mara become demons and harm people.”

“I see…”

Now he understood.

Charyuk was gradually being taken over by Simma.

So, she was asking him to kill her before she became a complete demon.

“It’s gotten worse since yesterday. I really don’t have much time left.”

Her face was rather bitter.

Sangun knew how difficult it was to accept one’s own death. He had almost died several times himself, hadn’t he?

Each time, he felt only a deep, profound fear of death.

A thick, swamp-like, terrible dread that words could not express.

He couldn’t even imagine how much contemplation and agony it would take to accept it so calmly.

“But why me…”

“Didn’t I say? Because you are the master of this sword.”

They were back to square one.

“If you’re not teasing me, you need to explain properly.

What does it mean to be the master?”

Charyuk stared at Sangun for a moment, then suddenly stood up.

Then, she disappeared like a mirage and was standing outside the thatched house.

Wondering what she was doing, he used Chukji [a movement technique] to go outside, where he saw Charyuk standing on a cliff, looking at a small pond.

“What has sustained my long life was only that.”

But her beloved was dead.

“So, I have no regrets. However…”

She bit her lip slightly, as if reluctant to speak.

Then, she sighed softly and looked directly at Sangun.

“If possible, I want to be reincarnated with him and be born on the same day.”

‘Reincarnation…’

“When I heard your story, I felt that Yang Hyung’s soul still remained in this sword.

At least, that’s what I felt.”

“Is that why?”

“Yes. It’s a foolish last wish.

Can you grant it?”

That was her request.

She wanted to be reborn on the same day as Yang Hyung, so she would melt her soul into this sword.

Later, whether the sword broke, disappeared, or eventually turned to dust.

She would enter the cycle of reincarnation with him.

Sangun involuntarily thought of the Hwahwan Hwahap Sword [a legendary sword].

‘Yukgwi was also like that.’

The image of Yukgwi, unable to forget her beloved and throwing herself into the sword she possessed, was still vivid in Sangun’s mind.

She wanted to do something no different from Yukgwi….

‘How should I feel…’

Or what should I say?

It was truly ambiguous.

“If we are together in the sword, we might be bound by a tenacious red thread [a metaphor for fate].”

Even if Yukgwi didn’t, Yang Sopang’s soul was definitely contained in this sword.

So, her words were not entirely absurd.

He didn’t know how reincarnation worked, but at least if she put her soul into this sword, they could be together.

“So, I…”

“You must help me.”

* * *

“Here’s what you wanted.”

Sangun, receiving Danham [a medicinal pill] from Bong, examined the contents.

“You don’t look so good.

Well, you’ll be going through Jinsumyunghwa [a spiritual cultivation process] soon, so you must have many concerns.”

That was true, but what he was worried about was something else.

“You seem to have other concerns… Yes, it must be because of that woman.”

Sangun didn’t bother to answer.

It wasn’t something he could complain to him about, and nothing would change even if he did.

“You’re not asking me if there’s a way to save that woman.”

“It’s a meaningless question.

Why force life on someone who wants to die?

Everyone makes their own choices.”

However, he was secretly hoping.

That she would live.

It was partly because of Yang Hyung’s memories and partly because of the harsh path Charyuk had walked.

And most of all, he was worried.

“You’re worried.”

“…”

That’s right.

Sangun was worried.

Not about Charyuk.

He was worried about himself.

When she died.

He was worried about her death being etched into his heart.

Even if she was with Yang Sopang in the sword, there was no way to confirm it.

So, to Sangun, it would only appear as death.

So, wouldn’t her death cause turmoil within him?

Sangun was concerned about that.

As Bong said, Jinsumyunghwa was just around the corner.

The days were approaching when he would have to calmly stabilize his realm and calm his mind and body to take the Sipsaengdan [a powerful elixir].

But not only had a relationship that disturbed his mind come, but she was also asking him to kill her, so how could he not be troubled?

He even suspected that she had other intentions.

‘That’s unlikely.’

It was said that training the mind was the most difficult of the mind, body, and spirit, and that was true.

“Is it difficult?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Living, I mean.”

“Living… That’s right. I thought I could just live, but why is it so difficult, complicated, and hard?

Nothing is simple, so it’s too difficult.”

As he lamented, Bong smiled faintly and created a flower with flames.

“When it’s difficult, pluck the petals. It’s surprisingly helpful.”

“I wondered what you were talking about…”

Sangun frowned and shook his head as if he couldn’t understand.

“What’s the point of what you’ve decided?”

“There’s plenty of meaning.”

When asked what meaning there was, Bong defiantly plucked a petal from the flower.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“I plucked the petal myself.”

“So what?”

“As a result, the flower now has four petals.”

“So?”

“If I hadn’t plucked it, this flower would have had five petals forever.”

“I guess so.”

What kind of obvious nonsense was he talking about?

As he stared suspiciously, Bong laughed heartily and continued.

“This flower is your agony. And the petals are like the crossroads. Whatever you’re worried about now, plucking the petals is the beginning.”

But after that, it’s much easier.

It was Bong’s unique, cryptic talk, but he seemed to understand the gist of it.

‘It won’t be much help, though.’

After that, Bong created another new flower and handed it to Sangun.

The petals were five, the overall edges were blue, and the inside was pale. When asked what kind of flower it was, he said it was a Seonongcho (仙翁草) [a type of flower, literally “Immortal Old Man Grass”].

“Isn’t this a poisonous plant?”

It was a common, ordinary flower that could be seen like weeds even in the Lower World.

It was known to be dangerous if touched carelessly because it contained poison, and it was one of the flowers that was cut down as soon as it was seen.

“That’s what ordinary people say.”

Sangun stared at the Seonongcho, then climbed onto Tamhwa’s head, who was lying nearby, and lay down.

“I envy you for not having any worries.”

How could he envy Tamhwa, who only repeated eating and sleeping?

He wondered how comfortable it would have been if he had been born as Tamhwa.

He wouldn’t have to worry about Simma, he could just chew everything he saw, and when he was full, he could just lie down anywhere and sleep.

There was no one who lived as comfortably as Tamhwa.

“I think I lived this comfortably when I was in Baekseon [a past life or simpler time]…”

How did he change like this?

Always being chased by something.

Worrying about something.

He was too busy worrying.

At least in those days, he didn’t have as many headaches as he did now.

When he was hungry, he hunted, and when he was sleepy, he went to his residence and slept.

When he was bored, he called Hwaran and played word games, and he traveled around and saw various things.

“Those days were comfortable…”

As he grumbled, Hwaran, fluttering her skirt like a ghost, squatted down and poked Sangun’s forehead.

“Sangun was worried even then.”

“I was?”

“Yes. You regretted it for a long time.”

“I did?”

As he tilted his head, she smiled bitterly and said someone’s name.

“You have Yuwol, don’t you?”

“Ah…”

Sangun’s face became solemn.

Come to think of it, that was true.

There was such a child.

“That’s right. That child was there…”

He had completely forgotten.

“Seeing that you regretted it so much and were so heartbroken, but you’ve completely forgotten, you’ll probably forget what you’re worried about now later.”

“…Will I?”

“Everything becomes a memory as time passes. This will also be a time to remember the present. Then Sangun will covet me and recall the old days as if reminiscing.

Thinking, I used to have these worries when I was immature.”

She was truly an unpredictable woman.

He didn’t know how her personality hadn’t changed even though she had turned into a sword spirit.

“Am I coveting you in those days you’re talking about?”

“Yes. Even if you become a wrinkled old man, you’re a very lecherous person when I see you coveting me, who is young and firm.”

“Geez…”

He let out a hollow laugh because it was such an absurd statement.

“You’re pretty.”

“What nonsense are you going to say again?”

“Sangun looks very, very pretty when you’re smiling.”

“I’m not a woman, and the word ‘pretty’ doesn’t suit a man.”

“It’s enough if I think you’re pretty.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

Sangun and Hwaran, looking at each other with affectionate eyes, shared their feelings for a long time.

Without saying anything.

Without taking any action.

Emotions were conveyed as they looked into each other’s eyes.

The two of them looked at each other with satisfaction for a long time and closed their eyes.

* * *

And fifteen days later.

Sangun and Charyuk sat at a table.

It wasn’t fancy, but there were frugal side dishes, white rice, and steaming hot air.

The two of them bowed lightly and began to eat in silence.

The mealtime was very leisurely. They chewed each grain of rice very slowly, as if chewing it several times.

Sangun ate with a blank expression to match her pace, and before they knew it, time had passed and they had finished eating.

The two of them got up from their seats without saying a word and walked towards the pond.

Soon, a sword was in Sangun’s hand, and Charyuk sat cross-legged in front of him with her eyes closed.

Her appearance was the same as when they first met, with blue short hair and strange horns.

He felt pity, but even thinking that was rude.

She had an appearance that was turning into a demon, but that was also proof that she was fighting hard.

Sangun, steeling his heart, grabbed the sword and stood in front of her.

It was her choice.

He had to respect it.

He brought the sword to her chest.

At the same time, as he chanted the incantation, the magic circle drawn on the floor began to glow and resonate with the Salseong Gapgeom [the sword’s name].

It was a magic circle to put her Hwaryeong [soul] into the sword.

It was something he and she had newly devised by vaguely seeing the magic circle that Yukgwi had created in the Geomryeongdo [Sword Spirit Diagram] before. When the magic circles in the air rose and the incantations engraved on her body rose one by one and began to resonate with the sword.

“Do you have any last words?”

Without realizing it, Sangun asked such a question.

But that word was a clear mistake.

Crunch!

With a chilling sound of gnashing teeth, Charyuk’s nails grew longer and her body began to bulge.

“Quickly… stab me quickly.”

She was already suffering greatly, as if she had been stabbed by the sword.

The reverent appearance had disappeared without a trace, and she hugged her arm and bit her lip tightly.

Crack, crack!

Her palace attire was torn off, and black scales sprouted from her shoulder blade.

As soon as Sangun saw it, he regretted it.

He had disturbed her with unnecessary words, accelerating the Simma’s promotion.