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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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How strange.
Until just now, when Jin Gayoung fell into a coma and I spoke with Cheonjon, I had been filled with uncontrollable rage.
An almost bizarre impulse to crush everything in sight had taken over my mind.
But after talking with Okhwa and listening to her heartfelt words of remorse, my mood improved. It wasn’t natural—it just happened suddenly.
It wasn’t that my anger had been suppressed, but rather that it had simply… flowed away.
But then, when I saw her trying to throw herself to her death—
“Sword Saint… why… are you so agitated?”
The anger I thought had dissipated once again seized my mind.
This time, it was incomparably greater and more violent.
And I think I know why.
From the start, my rage wasn’t truly about Jin Gayoung’s coma.
That was merely the trigger.
What I was really furious about was everything I had endured—the pain of regression, the humiliation I suffered afterward, the way I was treated—all of it.
Thinking about it now, it makes sense.
Why I was so enraged at Cheonjon, who had excluded me.
Why my anger cooled thanks to Okhwa, who sincerely apologized to me.
And why I became furious again when I saw her trying to die, disregarding me.
It was all because I was at the center of it.
“Death… Haha… Ahaha…”
Of course, I know Okhwa wasn’t trying to die because she was disregarding me.
She didn’t know I was a regressor.
She was just an ignorant mortal who had only seen one side of the world.
In her ideology, death was the ultimate punishment, the highest form of atonement one could inflict upon oneself.
But knowing that doesn’t change how I feel.
Looking at it this way, I suppose I’m a terribly selfish human being too.
“Okhwa.”
“…Speak.”
“Do you really want to die that badly?”
“…I have no reason to live.”
Her words were dramatic, yet she spoke them calmly.
Given her values, it wasn’t strange.
This was the same woman who had once come to me, staking her life to uphold her convictions.
To her, sacrificing herself for her beliefs was only natural.
But to me, it was an unwelcome sentiment.
“You’ve bitten your lips too hard. They’re all torn.”
“A wretch like me deserves worse than this…”
“You really do want to die, don’t you?”
“My heart is unbearably heavy…”
“And what do you expect me to do about that?”
“If I don’t die right now… the thought of a sinner like me still breathing makes me sick to my stomach…”
“…”
“They say I resemble the demon who killed my parents…”
“You’ve fallen into the swamp of self-loathing. Once you’re in, there’s no turning back.”
Blood dripped from her lips, tears from her eyes.
Normally, I might have pitied her, but in my current foul mood, it only irritated me.
“Are you trying to seek forgiveness from me? Or sympathy?”
“…You know that’s not it.”
Suddenly, I wondered—was she looking down on me?
Of course, I knew Okhwa didn’t mean it that way. It was guilt. A guilt so deep that she found her own existence repulsive, craving self-destruction.
But right now, my mood was so terrible that even meaningless things amplified my anger.
It felt as if she were disregarding me.
“Tch.”
The fury kept rising.
“Okhwa, if you want to die that badly—”
“…?”
“Then I’ll kill you myself.”
“…”
I knew my emotions were volatile, but I hadn’t realized just how severe it was.
“If I saved your life, then I’ll be the one to take it.”
“…Do it. No… please do.”
Okhwa placed both hands neatly on her knees, closed her eyes, and turned her left cheek toward me.
“P-please… kill me…”
Was she asking me to strike that pale cheek and end her?
A single blow would be enough to snap her neck.
Crack—
As my fist clenched, power surged through it again—not as strong as before, but still more than enough.
If I hit her now, Okhwa would undoubtedly die.
“Uh… Sword Saint. No, Cheolbin…”
Biting down hard on her own sleeve, Okhwa looked at me with pitiful eyes.
“What is it?”
I pulled my fist back to my waist, ready to strike.
“Make it hurt as much as possible.”
“…”
“Make it as painful as you can… when you kill me.”
“Fine.”
Creeaak—
As the sound of my tightening fist echoed, Okhwa quietly closed her eyes.
Like a noble sage accepting death with serenity.
“You fulfill your wish, I vent my anger—seems like killing two birds with one stone.”
“…Thank you.”
Since she had cut her right cheek with her own sword earlier, the left one she offered me was as pale as snow.
The falling snowflakes, the white eyelashes peeking through her closed eyelids—it all created an eerie harmony.
I recalled something she once said—that she had used me as her “emotional punching bag.”
Now, the roles were reversed. My emotions had become fists.
Of course, a single punch wouldn’t erase all the humiliation I’d endured over the years, but…
“I really am grateful.”
I swung my fist down toward Okhwa’s kneeling face.
Though my emotions fueled the strike, my fist didn’t waver.
Killing the woman I had saved—
It didn’t feel good. But in another way, the release of anger was almost refreshing.
—
Whoooosh—!
Namgoong Cheolbin’s fist flew toward me.
In a moment, I would be dead.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when death is near.
I think I see it too.
Among the memories, one of the Sword Saint’s words stands out the most.
“I’m afraid. Of killing people.”
Back then, I didn’t understand what he meant. I didn’t know him well enough.
“The more you kill… the more they start to feel like dolls.”
Even now, I don’t fully understand. He’s still a man of countless secrets. If I die like this, I suppose I’ll never know.
“Breaking a doll is far too easy. A single flick of the wrist is all it takes. Confucius once said even dolls shouldn’t be broken carelessly, but…”
I thought I was strong. Even when I reached the pinnacle of martial arts, even when I earned the title of “The Greatest Beauty in the Central Plains.”
“But there’s something harder than breaking them. Because they’re so fragile… killing them is easy, but protecting them is far harder. A single careless move, and they’re all dead… Do you know how much time I’ve wasted because of that?”
At the time, I couldn’t comprehend his words. Even now, the last part eludes me.
But I think I understand what he meant by “dolls” and “what he protected.”
“I… was just a doll.”
What he protected was me.
From the Martial Alliance. From the Blood Cult.
Whoooosh—!
His fist was almost upon me now.
There was no internal energy in it.
Not that it mattered. Even if I hadn’t sealed my own energy, the outcome wouldn’t have changed.
He and I exist on entirely different planes.
“Sigh…”
I slowly opened my eyes. Through my blurred vision, I saw Namgoong Cheolbin’s pupils.
They were terrifyingly hollow—devoid of any emotion.
I’m the one waiting for death, so why does he seem so pitiful?
Like a lonely outcast with no one by his side.
Like a wretched soul who has never shared his emotions with anyone.
Suddenly, another memory flashes through my mind.
“Okhwa.”
This time, it’s the Divine Monk. The one who caused me the most anguish.
“No matter how great a man may seem, no matter how mighty he appears…”
Back then, I didn’t understand why he told me those things.
But now, I do.
“It might all just be a facade. A sage on the outside, but inside, just like us… a pitiful mortal. Don’t take it to heart. Let it go in one ear and out the other.”
The Divine Monk knew.
“If you ever meet someone like that… it may feel awkward, but no matter how troublesome, show them love. Embrace them with mercy, envelop them with affection.”
About the Sword Saint. About the secrets I never knew.
“Isn’t that our role as monks and Taoists? To save and guide lost souls, haha.”
The Divine Monk, who always fought with me.
During the war, I denied his words.
For three years after the war, I struggled with my inner demons.
Now, at the end, I admit it.
You were right. Your words were the truth, the righteousness I should have pursued.
Though it’s far too late now.
Suddenly, the saying “No matter how early you regret, it’s always too late” feels painfully real.
My vision fills with Namgoong Cheolbin’s fist. Death is truly upon me now.
BANG—!
The sound of air splitting reaches my ears.
“…”
…The sound of air?
Not the sound of my skull being crushed…?
“Cheol… bin…?”
His fist had stopped right before my eyes.
As if hesitating, trembling violently.
…Why?
I looked at him with confusion. Then, with his fist still shaking, he spoke.
“Okhwa.”
No killing intent remained in his voice.
“I can’t kill you after all.”
He said he would take the life he had saved, so why couldn’t he do it now?
Before I could ask, he spoke again.
“You are my flower.”
“…?”
Flower? Wasn’t that something young lovers said in confessions?
“A flower I personally nurtured, raised, and saved.”
“You’re speaking in riddles again.”
“When you seemed to wither, I gave you water. When your colors faded, I let you bask in sunlight. When the soil grew poor, I brought you fresh earth. When the wind blew, I built you a shield.”
“…”
The “flower” he spoke of was clearly different from the literal meaning.
He seemed to be referring to the care he had devoted to protecting me. Even if I didn’t fully understand, the raw emotion in his words resonated with me.
“Though the flower was made of jade, so it wasn’t as if it needed constant tending.”
“…”
“It was good that it stood tall even in storms, but when hail fell from the sky, it should have bent like other flowers and weeds. Yet you alone stood straight, crying out for justice. Every time, I had to make sure you wouldn’t break. Do you know how much effort that took?”
Ah…
“Cheolbin… your words…”
I still didn’t fully understand him.
But I had a vague sense of what he felt for me.
“How could I possibly pluck such a flower?”
Creeaak—
Namgoong Cheolbin slowly unclenched his fist.
Once again, he had saved me.
If asked whether I was happy, I wouldn’t know how to answer.
“Cheolbin.”
“My name is Byeok-rak, you know. Baekdo-gaek Byeok-rak.”
“Cheolbin.”
“Sigh…”
I wasn’t sure if this was the right time for such a question.
But given how far things had gone, it didn’t matter anymore.
“How am I supposed to live from now on…?”
The justice I had idealized had betrayed the very people it should have protected.
Just as the Divine Monk feared, I had become too extreme, transforming into another kind of evil.
In this situation, what should I do?
How can I possibly go on living?
“Just live.”
“Is… that all?”
“Isn’t that what Kunlun always teaches? To live leisurely, like an immortal.”
“…I don’t deserve that.”
“Then live and atone. It doesn’t matter how, just live.”
“…”
“Life is suffering. Death is the blessing that ends it. If you truly want punishment, don’t seek it from Yama in the afterlife—atone in this world. That’s the path that helps everyone.”
“Yes… I should. Thank you, Cheolbin.”
“I told you to call me Byeok-rak.”
Namgoong Cheolbin told me to atone.
I will.
I’ll atone until it overflows.
‘For you.’
For you, Cheolbin. Until the day I die.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why bring that up now?”
“For everything. For troubling you, for making you suffer, for all the distress I caused you…”
You saved me.
Not just my life—you opened a new path for me.
You widened my narrow vision, straightened the crooked path I walked.
You enlightened me.
That is… a grace and salvation beyond comparison to mere life.
‘For all eternity—’
I will never forget.
‘Even if I die, even if I follow you to the afterlife—’
I will never waver.
‘As your Okhwa… I will serve only you.’
The love, mercy, and affection the Divine Monk spoke of—
‘All the love you’ve given me, I’ll repay a thousand, ten thousand times over.’
And salvation. Guidance.
‘Your wounds… I’ll embrace them, heal them, no matter what it takes. Even if it takes my whole life, I will make you happy.’
Because that is my only atonement.
—
“I’ll change my clothes and come back.”
Okhwa pointed at her bloodstained robes—the blood from when she tried to take her own life earlier.
But why was she saying she’d return? I told her to live, so why come back?
I wanted to ask, but she had already walked away.
“Sigh…”
It felt like I had crossed a great mountain. My heart was both light and heavy.
Okhwa.
She wasn’t just a friend to me, was she?
Then again, neither were the Divine Monk or Dongbang Bulpae.
None of them were mere friends—they were companions who had stood by me for thousands of years.
Rustle—
At that moment, a woman entered my sight.
“Huh…?”
I had sensed her presence from afar earlier, but I had forgotten about her while talking to Okhwa.
“Wh-what are you doing here…?”
My ex-wife, Yoo So-eun.
“I was feeling gloomy, so I went for a night walk. Is that a problem?”
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