Chương 90: S.05 Time to Fly 03(04)_Modification

Scene 06_01. Jeong-in, seated in her chair in the Situation Room, gave her wrist a light shake and pulled back the cuff of her jeogori to check the wristwatch hidden beneath. Seeing that the hour had just passed seven in the evening, she let out a small sigh and drew her phone from her pocket. Without lifting her gaze from the bank of CCTV monitors set along one wall of the Situation Room, she dialed with the deft motion of practice. Hee-jin's voice came through after a few rings. Hee-jin: Has something happened?

Jeong-in: That would be on your end. Things are quiet here. That's why I rang. The hour you said you'd be starting at — it's about that time, I figured. Scene 06_02. The sunlight had vanished a good while ago. In the home temple grounds of The Black Doctrine, where a darkness had settled in that should have left nothing visible, Hee-jin adjusted the cuff of her 무도복(Mu-do-bok_Combat garment) with care as she carried on the call with Jeong-in. Jeong-in: I'm on duty.

I have an obligation to check on the Oldest's standing too. Hee-jin let out a small sigh and delivered her voice through the earphone set in her ear. Hee-jin: Do not worry. Keep your watch from there. Jeong-in: Take care. Hee-jin: Yes. If anything happens, ring me without fail. Jeong-in: Yes. After the brief call, Hee-jin pulled one of the earphones from her ear and slipped it into its cradle.

As if she might need to take in both the sounds of people and the sounds of a call, she left the other earphone in place and went on with her preparations. The warm, quiet guest room of The Black Doctrine was little different from those at the Headquarters. Even the long, lingering scent of old wood was the same. Leaving the familiar fragrance behind, Hee-jin slowly carried her white-socked steps outside.

When she opened the firmly shut paper-paneled door and stepped through, Lee Yeon — already changed into Combat garment — was waiting for her. Lee Yeon: All have completed their preparations, I have been informed. At Lee Yeon's even, polite voice, Hee-jin moved with slightly quicker steps to slip into her Everyday traditional shoes set on the stepping stone and made for the yard.

Meeting Lee Yeon's formality with formality of her own, Hee-jin lowered her head lightly and asked Lee Yeon — who appeared to be of an age close to her own. Hee-jin: The Seventh Steward — has she completed her preparations. At the question — carrying within it several layers of meaning — Lee Yeon drew a steadying breath and slowly raised the head she had lowered. Hee-jin, in turn, raised her own head to meet Lee Yeon's clear-eyed gaze. Lee Yeon: To me as well, she was as a mother.

In private, I call her teacher — but that is what I have judged to be the most whole form of address I could offer to one who has given me such teaching. Preparing for a parting, even when one knows it is coming, is something that always proves wanting, no matter how long one has had to prepare. Had we thought ourselves to have had enough time to prepare, we would not have foolishly clung here, holding off death well past one hundred and eighty years.

At Lee Yeon's even self-confession, Hee-jin could find no word to offer. Lee Yeon: But every one of us who resolved to walk has set out our foot. It is not as though I have spoken these words while standing fast in place, not having stepped forward myself. I, too, have been walking. Ceaselessly preparing, ceaselessly facing, ceaselessly leading the way — and yet, in truth, preparation is something one shall always feel to be wanting.

To me, Jeong-seon has been at once the daughter of all of us and like a younger sister. She is still the youngest in The Black Doctrine even now. In truth, she is even younger, I have heard, than the Oldest and the Oldest's Secret Agent. There is no unease, no. Only.... Lee Yeon's words could not readily continue. As if she did not know how to bring the words she wished to convey to order, the mouth of Lee Yeon — usually so clear-spoken — could not easily part.

Lee Yeon: Now, I believe we must yield the time of the elders to them. How long I shall remain to serve Jeong-seon, to serve the next Bishop, I do not know. I have come to wish only that it shall not be long. If that is preparation — then yes. The preparation is finished. Preparing to send her off shall always feel wanting, but the preparation to one day leave behind our legacy with Jeong-seon, and depart — yes. It is done. Hee-jin: There is one thing. I wish to make clear. Lee Yeon: Please.

Hee-jin lowered her head, composed and courteous, and delivered a measured voice. Hee-jin: I shall not repay the favor, the help, I have received in any such manner. The one who brought medicine to me, bloodied and with one ear ruptured, was none other than the Seventh Steward. Raising her lowered head, Hee-jin drew a composed and graceful smile to her lips and met Lee Yeon's gaze, square on.

Hee-jin: Therefore — to the very end, only this one preparation that you are soon to face, please bring to its proper closure. That is what I ask of you. As the two of them exchanged the depth of their meanings, the hurried step of Ji-young — hanging up her phone and moving outward — came into view. Hee-jin watched Ji-young's brisk movement for a moment with a heavy expression. Above the home temple grounds of The Black Doctrine where the two stood, the sky began to stain itself black. Scene 06_03.

There was no time even to signal for the gates to be opened. Ji-young unwound the bracelet at her wrist and, with the hem of her dress flaring, hauled her body up to the top of the watchtower easily three stories high. As the panicked devotees turned to look at Ji-young, Ji-young raised her voice in urgency. Ji-young: Get to the Bishop. Now. I'll hold the front. Devotee_02: Excuse me? What — what is this, all of a sudden? She followed the direction in which Ji-young's gaze was set.

Beneath the blackening sky, a single presence was making its entry. Down the center of the unpaved dirt road. From between the deep tree-lined path, swallowed by distant darkness and shadow, a single unfamiliar presence was walking forward, slow and easy. Just then, a stir was felt from inside as well. Ji-young looked back over her shoulder. No real disturbance had yet broken out, but there was no telling what was to come. The devotee guarding the gate, no longer hesitating, dashed down from the watchtower.

The bracelet wrapped about Ji-young's wrist scattered with a clear chime in every direction. Hooking several strands onto the watchtower beam, Ji-young flung herself out beyond the gate. Landing lightly on the ground, Ji-young drew Black wire taut in her hands and faced the unholy presence advancing toward her. To prevent the slow-approaching presence from drawing any nearer, Ji-young stepped forward a touch further. Yu-seok: I wonder if I have come a touch early. Having waited rather long, I grew bored.

Ji-young: I'd have preferred you didn't show up at all — and here you are, hauling yourself in nice and steady. As if you're some piece-of-shit ex-boyfriend who can't take a hint. Yu-seok: Ah, such a thing. If I were to propose we begin dating — would you accept? Ji-young: Dream on, would you. Yu-seok: Even so, one must be able to dream — is that not what makes one a 'human'? Catching sight of Yu-seok's figure — one eye stained black — Ji-young bit down faintly on her lip. Yu-seok: Do not worry.

I have not perished. I merely lent the space, briefly. Like these heretical pretenders here. Though — I do find I rather like it. Ji-young: The Hyang-ju of the East — where is she. Yu-seok: I only hope I am not too late. Ji-young: I know it was you who took her. So — Yu-seok: Know your station. The Oldest. Yu-seok's words were brief and courteous, but the meaning carried within was anything but. Yu-seok: For one soon to pass away, to be still fussing over some country wench — that is overstepping your station.

At Yu-seok's needling, Ji-young drew a light smile. Ji-young: To strut around to that degree, on so little — you're really something pathetic. Yu-seok: Ah, of course. Yu-seok poured Black Water from his hand as if spitting it forth. The Black Water lapped up to Ji-young's blue Everyday traditional shoes, like the brink of a tide. Unable to set foot inside the gate of the home temple, the Black Water flooded the wide parking lot to fill. From within the Black Water, a presence began to writhe its way to the surface.

Yu-seok: I am not alone — so put your mind at ease. Scene 06_04. The stillness and tranquility that had threaded the deep night were gone, vanished without a trace. Strands of red thread skittered through the air, snapping aside the green-tinged straw flickering between glimpses of the Black Water. Although the Bishop had gone inside her quarters and not stepped out, she still gave off a steady presence from within.

Jeong-seon stood directly before the Bishop's quarters, prepared to bar the dead reaching for the Bishop. Si-yeon's silver dagger sliced through the straw rushing straight at Jeong-seon's nose in a single stroke, scattering a spray of Black Water. Si-yeon spun her body in a wheel and landed lightly atop the wide wooden floor where Jeong-seon stood.

Around the Bishop's quarters, 그슨대(Geu-seun-dae_Hair-bound Wraith) had massed in numbers beyond count, draping damp, sodden straw to the ground and revealing their single chilling eyes. It was not the dark-tinted green of before. They held a darkness like pitch within them. The Hair-bound Wraith that had risen now were not those dragged up from the domain of Putrefaction. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

While So-hui and Si-yeon held the front of the Bishop's quarters, Gyeong-seo conjured a great length of hemp cloth and wrapped the surroundings of the Bishop's quarters whole. Yeon-su, with a blade conjured from Black Sand gripped in either hand, stood watch over the area. The damp straw, soaked through with Black Water, could not pierce the hemp cloth. As if they had bought a moment of time, Gyeong-seo, having steadied her position, glanced over the party gathered around the Bishop's quarters from behind.

From inside the Bishop's quarters — which had until then conveyed only her presence — came the calm, dignified voice of the Bishop. Bishop: The two of you. May I give the order, in place of the Oldest Kang Ji-young. Gyeong-seo and Yeon-su turned to look. Glancing briefly at So-hui for her read, Gyeong-seo — keeping the hemp cloth unfurled around them connected to her hand — drew nearer to the Bishop. Gyeong-seo: Of course. Please.

Bishop: As planned, the First Steward shall now go directly, along with the fourth butterfly, into the inner sanctum laid within the home temple grounds. Yeon-su glanced briefly toward Jeong-seon for her read. Jeong-seon, the redness of her eyes no longer something she even tried to hide, only stood, motionless. Bishop: There is no time. As I have heard, soon, a seed shall be planted within the Oldest. Once that comes to pass, the Oldest Kang Ji-young shall be in true danger. All of this could come to nothing.

Make haste. And — the third butterfly. So-hui: Yes. Bishop: The conversation must have run long — they have not joined us here. It is graceless of me to ask, but save the Seventh Steward and the Strategist. So-hui: Understood. The firmly shut door of the Bishop's quarters slowly slid open. Bishop: Well, then — let us move, all of us. With her two eyes shut, the Bishop stepped outside, moving with practiced step.

Even with eyes closed, the Bishop moved with the precision of one whose eyes were open — as if she saw every inch of it. The hemp cloth Gyeong-seo had unfurled was darkening with Black Water. Soon it would tear. The dead, straining outside to push their way in, were ready to flood through. The Bishop, after slipping on her black Everyday traditional shoes set on the stepping stone, opened her closed eyes, slowly. It was a sense of dread of a kind they had never seen before.

Not even the body of one bearing the Envoy — and yet the gravity held in those two eyes was not that of any ordinary being. Even Si-yeon, who caught a glance of the Bishop, felt a shiver run through her. The Bishop, with her eyes stained black, took the lead. As her presence drew up to the hemp cloth, Gyeong-seo, after meeting the eyes of those around her, drew the cloth back in a single motion.

Si-yeon, Gyeong-seo, and Yeon-su escorted Jeong-seon and the Bishop together, slicing through the straw of the Hair-bound Wraith pouring in on them. Si-yeon, taking the lead, flashed the silvered blade now stained black and severed the unending straw rushing at her. Jeong-seon, with effort, held back her tears in silence, took Hyang-rim's hand firmly in her own, and followed in Si-yeon's wake. Scene 06_05. So-hui, left in place on her own, spread strands of red thread and blue thread out in every direction.

Preparing 승기지무(Seung-gi-ji-mu_Sustaining Banner Dance), one of the movements within 도산승무(Do-san-seung-mu_Crowned Mountain Ritual Dance), So-hui closed her eyes firmly and smoothed the still-unfamiliar hem of her traditional dress. The ornament gathering her long hair up high did not so much as flicker. She extended both hands forward, easy, light. Beyond her deeply closed eyes, the surge of the black straw was felt. It snared one of So-hui's wrists, but So-hui did not falter.

Black straw whipped about So-hui's ankle as well. In a single instant, the strands of thread that had been spread outward swept in like arrows, scattering the straw bound at her wrist and ankle with little effort. Eyes still closed, So-hui began moving both hands, slow. The opening movements of 도산무령무(Do-san-mu-ryeong-mu_Crowned Mountain Spirit-Command Dance) — the body of So-hui's dance — drew the blue thread to coil up the damp straw of the surging Hair-bound Wraith.

The thread climbed the soaked stalks of straw and lashed back down upon the Hair-bound Wraith. The wave of Hair-bound Wraith closest to the front were caught up in So-hui's blue thread and crumbled apart to nothing. It was no longer a place for delivering them gently upward. As though chiding the unwilling deaths of the Hair-bound Wraith into release, So-hui drove forward toward the dance of Lee Yeon and Hee-jin, set somewhat further off.

Unfurling 궁배례무(Gung-bae-rye-mu_Bow-and-Salute Dance), another movement within Crowned Mountain Spirit-Command Dance, So-hui hooked the red thread tangled in her other hand to the blue thread bound at her fingertips and ankles, and shot the red thread out in every direction — as though loosing the bound arrow of a hunter. The red thread, drawn through, threaded its way between Lee Yeon and Hee-jin's dance, peeling the Hair-bound Wraith clinging to them away.

After confirming So-hui's dance, Lee Yeon, together with Hee-jin, made hastily through the cleared path toward So-hui. So-hui unfurled 기수무(Gi-su-mu_Banner-Bearer Dance). With her eyes still closed, she drew the thread scattered through the air, ringed Hee-jin and Lee Yeon in their dance, and urged Hee-jin's own dance into motion. Holding a sword conjured from black ink, Hee-jin unfurled 농검무(Nong-geom-mu_Sword-Play Dance) to match the Banner-Bearer Dance of So-hui.

Lee Yeon, at the rear, sliced through the straw of the Hair-bound Wraith bearing in from behind, ensuring the dances of the two of them did not break. The number of Hair-bound Wraith the three of them now faced exceeded a thousand. But the three of them held their dance unflinching, cutting down the count of rushing straw. Matching the rhythm of So-hui's red and blue thread, each turning the straw back to Black Water, Hee-jin's black ink scattered out in every direction. Scene 06_06.

They made for the inner sanctum, set rather far off across the home temple grounds. As death had not yet reached this far, they made it through swiftly, with little friction. The Bishop, meeting Si-yeon's eyes, delivered a voice that held no hurry. Bishop: The fourth butterfly. Si-yeon: Yes. Bishop: Go in, together with Jeong-seon. The two of you, wait within the 삼도천 (Samdo-cheon_River of the Dead) of the Envoy. In a brief while, I shall enter together with the Oldest Kang Ji-young.

In the meantime — The Bishop's gaze turned to Gyeong-seo and Yeon-su. Bishop: The two of you. Allow no death — none — into the inner sanctum. Gyeong-seo: Understood. The Hair-bound Wraith and other deaths that had caught the Bishop's presence began to push their way up through the ground.

The Black Water had not been able to reach the area near the inner sanctum, but from a distance, newly conjured Hair-bound Wraith, 통신사(Tongshinsa_Courier), and 취생(Chwi-saeng_Stench-borne Corpse) — laden with the stench of rot — dragged their gummy, congealed bodies and rose up from where they stood. Bishop: They have caught the scent of me. Jeong-seon. Go in, now. Jeong-seon looked at the Bishop and nodded. Taking Si-yeon's hand and stepping inside, Jeong-seon — once she had shut the door — was no longer in sight.

Yeon-su conjured Black Sand and scattered it outward in every direction. Toward the curtain of Black Sand laid out like a thin veil, the procession of the dead, moving in eerie strides, passed straight through the Black Sand and stepped inward. Yeon-su did not hesitate and clenched her fist with all her strength. As the dead that had passed through made contact with the Black Sand, the outer hides looking like flesh tore open and collapsed limp.

As though their existences had not yet been wholly erased, they staggered forward in stuttered, halting steps. Yeon-su steadied her breath, withdrew the black blade, closed her eyes, and prepared a dance. As Yeon-su readied a dance that the law-monks perform during the 천고제(Cheon-go-je_Sky-Drum Rite), Gyeong-seo unfurled the 외뿔도깨비춤(Oe-ppul-Dokkaebi-chum_One-Horned Goblin Dance), one of the movements within the 향촌계춤(Hyang-chon-gye-chum_Village Lineage Dance), wrapping it through the strands of hemp cloth.

The hemp at her hands flapped outward, spewing strands of hemp in every direction. The Stench-borne Corpse, caught up in the threads, could not so much as draw nearer, and were shredded by the keen edges of the hemp cloth. As Gyeong-seo held the dance without halting, scattering it outward, blocking even the straw of the Hair-bound Wraith, Yeon-su — as if she had completed every preparation of her dance — stepped forward and delivered her motion in slow gestures.

Black Sand glittered as it scattered, struck the hemp cloth, and dispersed wide. The Black Sand, settled fine as particles, in a single instant bristled out sharp barbs and hung in the air in slow suspension. The barbs were too fine to be seen, so finely divided was the Black Sand, and Yeon-su moved it as if she were weaving it along to her own dance.

With her eyes shut, drawing her open palms in the slow movements one performs at the Sky-Drum Rite, she affixed the scattered Black Sand to the Hair-bound Wraith, Stench-borne Corpse, and Courier. Yeon-su's dance gathered into a slightly quicker motion. After conjuring a sword once more in one hand, Yeon-su moved into 장검무(Jang-geom-mu_Long-Sword Dance) as well.

Gyeong-seo, as if answering with 장삼무(Jang-sam-mu_Long-Robe Dance), spread the hemp cloth out in every direction, slicing through the Hair-bound Wraith bearing in. The Stench-borne Corpse and Courier were being torn to ribbons against Yeon-su's sand. The Bishop, watching the dance of the two with her back to the small building of the inner sanctum, slowly began to unfurl a dance long held only in memory.

Her hand, carrying within it the twisted Black Water, moved slowly and took its place in the empty space between the two of them. To match the dance, beginning to move with weight, the Bishop's drops of Black Water scattered through the air. Unfurling the dance held deep within her memory, the Bishop performed the 헌화무(Heon-hwa-mu_Flower-Offering Dance), and in a single instant shattered apart every host of the dead that had tried to break through Yeon-su and Gyeong-seo's dance. Scene 06_07.

Ji-young, having turned aside all of the Black Water, stood facing Yu-seok with a composed expression. At Ji-young's ease, Yu-seok felt a sudden flicker of doubt and unfamiliarity. How she could be so at ease — for a moment, his head ran tangled. Ji-young smoothed the cuff of her traditional dress with care and shook off the Black Water that had splashed up. Though her hair was not back in place, Ji-young's figure remained little different from her usual self.

And this time, as though it were truly Ji-young — as if to prove it — she turned the surge of water aside in full view and laid the Black wire bare in every direction. After lightly brushing the Black Water from her Everyday traditional shoes, Ji-young looked at Yu-seok, now drawn nearer. At the cutting bite drawn into Ji-young's expression — heavy with the weight of complicated feeling — it was Yu-seok who showed signs of recoiling. He tried to brush it aside. Tried to take it as fine, as nothing.

Convinced himself it was no more than rage having shut down his reason. As he steadied his breath, Ji-young asked Yu-seok. A voice carrying a sharp edge of feeling. Ji-young: Why, of all places, did you come here? Was my mother not enough? Why these people, why their — Yu-seok: To deeds of vile making — Yu-seok's reply, cutting Ji-young's voice off, came without a flicker of hesitation. Yu-seok: There is no measure of degree. As you have said, I have already committed an unfilial sin.

Though she was the Oldest's mother, she was a mother to me as well — and I led the late former Oldest's passing. That sin, I shall receive when I am dead. The unfilial sin of killing the one who raised me, who held me — my own mother. For a vagrant who committed that unfilial sin to come to take the mother of these people in turn — what should be strange in that? Yu-seok drew the surge of Black Water around himself once more, his two eyes stained black.

Yu-seok: Only — what Putrefaction found unbearable, and what I found unbearable. By chance, the two intents simply lined up. Around Ji-young, Black wire surged outward with a force that stirred up a great wind. Yu-seok, with his snickering smile, raised the Black Water in his hand and lashed it with all his strength. Ji-young's surge of wire wove around the path of Yu-seok's surge and drove straight for the center of Yu-seok's body. But it felt as though her body would not properly follow.

The form that should have been light and effortless carried, faintly, a duller weight. Around Ji-young, surrounded by Hair-bound Wraith, Stench-borne Corpse, and even 독각귀(Dok-gak-gwi_One-Horned Ogre), there was only blackened death in every direction. Holding off the onslaught of the dead — counted in the thousands and beyond — Ji-young's wire kept Ji-young's safety, while she gathered several strands together and unfurled the 지전무(Ji-jeon-mu_Paper-Money Dance) upon Yu-seok. Ji-young's strikes did not bite.

She held a thin thread of Black wire between her teeth and severed Yu-seok's neck, but Yu-seok, looking untouched, drove a pillar of water into the center of Ji-young's chest. She took the blow, but it was not damage that would leave Ji-young with any lasting wound. Yu-seok swung his hand once more, and a great cascade of water began to rise from the ground. As Black Water erupted in a flash, Ji-young twisted her body and swept the wire about her, shattering the wave bearing down on her into pieces.

Without pause, Ji-young drove forward again and severed Yu-seok's limbs from him outright. The wire, whirling in fevered motion, ground Yu-seok's severed limbs to fragments. Ji-young shook out her hands and rose to her feet, looking down at the Black Water scattered across the ground. The Black Water, drawing on the presence of Putrefaction, slowly raised a body up from behind Ji-young.

Yu-seok's body, lifted at a grotesque angle from the waist, came to a stop just before the nose of a Ji-young who had spun around fast to look. Ji-young moved to slash with the wire again, to break Yu-seok apart anew — but before she could swing her arm, the Yu-seok at her nose seized her wrist and wrenched it round.

She severed Yu-seok's arm whole and only just freed herself from his grip, but where Yu-seok's hand had clasped her wrist, a Black current had entered, crawling like vermin and overrunning Ji-young's blood. Ji-young squeezed her eyes shut, sliced her own wrist, and drew the blood out. A dry scream — as though she were burning from inside — rang into the air.

Ji-young's wound recovered, with the Black Water knitting it back to itself, but the blood that had fallen to the ground took on a greenish hue and began to rot, blackening. From her own arm — putrefied — vermin came spewing up, taking aim at Ji-young's body once more. As Ji-young retreated, trying to put distance between herself and the slick of vermin, another presence pressed in directly behind her.

A Hair-bound Wraith of long-strung hairs — its body now visible — caught at Ji-young's body and drew her toward it. As if bound by her own hair, in the motion of the Hair-bound Wraith dragging her in, Ji-young was about to surrender her flesh to the vermin — but Black wire whipped into motion in a flash and shredded every shoot of vermin apart. The Hair-bound Wraith, too, could no longer overrun Ji-young — its hair severed, it burst apart and faded.

Ji-young, drawing her breath in for a moment, drew back from her flurried counterattack, and turned her gaze upon Yu-seok. Slowly she rose to her feet, drew the bracelet up again, and let the wire scatter once more about her. Yu-seok dropped a Black orb to the ground, one at a time. Ji-young, gaze sharpened, took into account the many Hair-bound Wraith rising in their numbers around her. She stamped on one of the Black orbs dropped to the ground.

With a stomach-turning sound, vermin burst out as though shot up, hurling once more for Ji-young. Ji-young dodged the Hair-bound Wraith's hair and only just slipped clear of the vermin's reach, but the hand of Yu-seok, now once more before her nose, she could not avoid. Catching her by the throat, Yu-seok opened his mouth wide and tried to force a clot of slick vermin held within into Ji-young's mouth. To the very last Ji-young refused, refusing to take in the filthy Putrefaction.

But with her throat and her hands all of them taken in the grip of Hair-bound Wraith and Yu-seok, the choices left to Ji-young were not many. In the end, the clot of vermin began to enter her mouth. The reeking stench of rot ran into her bloodstream. As if every attempt had reached its completion, Yu-seok dropped Ji-young to the ground. The Hair-bound Wraith stayed close, holding watch over Ji-young in case of any last move.

Ji-young, who had been letting out tortured coughs, blackened around her eyes and was contorting on the ground. Every spasm at last began to still, and from Ji-young's blackened pupils, viscous Black Water began to flow. Yu-seok stepped out of the Putrefaction and dropped his exhausted body to the ground. Though it had only been a brief inhabitation, taking in the Envoy with a body unprepared had been a burden on Yu-seok.

Yu-seok, unable to walk properly, half-crawled toward Ji-young, who had collapsed and lay still. To sever Ji-young's neck, he conjured Black Sand. As Yu-seok's hand neared Ji-young's neck — Ji-young's hand was the first to twitch. Slowly, Ji-young raised her body up from the ground as though nothing had happened. Yu-seok, in the end, could not bring himself to take Ji-young's head. After fully drawing herself up, Ji-young surveyed her surroundings with blackened pupils.

At the figure of Putrefaction wearing Yu-seok's face, letting Black Water flow from its eyes — the black-eyed Ji-young looked back, plain and unblinking. Ji-young (Harbinger): Such a measly thing. Over a mere trace. Ji-young gave her hand a light sweep. Every host of the dead that had risen across the area shattered, all at once, to her gesture.

The Black Water — into which the procession of the dead had turned — was, in the same motion as Ji-young's outstretched hand drew in, sucked, helpless, into Ji-young's empty palm. Ji-young moved her body in an instant and stood squarely before the Envoy of Putrefaction, raising her gaze to look up at the blackened pupils. In a single instant, Ji-young bit into the Envoy of Putrefaction's neck.

Like a beast tearing into meat, she severed Putrefaction's neck, held it in her mouth, and slowly turned her body to look behind her. She did not release the carcass in her teeth. The Black Water sprayed in every direction around her like juice. As Ji-young's jaw moved, tearing the entire neck of the Envoy of Putrefaction from him, the head and body finally parted and dropped to the ground. With her mouth thick with Black Water, the dread Ji-young carried was the dread of the Harbinger itself.

Yu-seok, his face gone ashen, scrambled to retreat — but Ji-young's body was already standing right before him in another instant. She stepped, slow and deliberate, onto Yu-seok's ankle and crushed it whole beneath her foot. The strange laughter pressing through Ji-young's mouth. A dread so total it would not let one even move came leaking through Ji-young's lips. What Yu-seok faced was a being that could lead him into death at any moment. A being that would deliver death to him too easily.

And yet, Yu-seok, despite the shattered ankle, would not pull back from his place to the very end. Ji-young, with Yu-seok's ankle pressed beneath her foot, began to tremble faintly. In time with Ji-young's will to repel the Harbinger, the Harbinger that had stained both her eyes black faded. The moment the Harbinger was gone, Ji-young's body went weak, tottering as if she would slump straight to the ground.

As though it had not been enough to take her wholly unconscious, she caught her knee with her hand and barely raised her body back up, slow. As if the briefly absent consciousness had returned, the sense of dread of moments ago had been wiped away. Ji-young: If you've no intention of telling me, then hurry up and get lost. I'll find the Hyang-ju myself. Ji-young, in her exhausted bearing, pressed Yu-seok. But Yu-seok, to the very end, did not rise — he stayed where he had fallen, not yielding his place.

Yu-seok: The Oldest has already taken in three traces. It was a small, contemptuous smile delivered toward Ji-young. Leaving Yu-seok's needling smile behind, Yu-seok delivered one last needling word to Ji-young, who was turning to leave. Yu-seok: Thankfully — not too late. Country bitch. Ji-young whipped her body around in alarm. Standing before the turned Ji-young, two eyes stained black, was Seon-woo.

With a rough hand seizing Ji-young's hair, hauling her up — Seon-woo drove her hand swift into the abdomen of the lifted Ji-young, and bored straight through Ji-young's belly clean.