“My lord…?!”

The first to rush over was Yeon So-hyeon’s Head Handmaiden, Jeong-ah. Spotting his form in the half-collapsed passage of the Deepest Core, she dropped the torch she was carrying and ran.

“My lord!”

How worried she must have been about him. Seeing her rush over, tears welling in her eyes… Yeon So-hyeon, leaning against the passage wall, gave a wry smile. “…No need to make a fuss.”

From his reply, she could confirm he was conscious. The situation where he lost consciousness and was completely eroded by the Scripture that Commands the Dark and Quakes the Heavens’s Demonic Qi—the ‘Codename: Black Situation’—had not occurred. However, Head Handmaiden Jeong-ah’s complexion didn’t brighten at all.

“My lord. That mask…!”

The white mask still rested on Yeon So-hyeon’s face. He wasn’t wearing the mask. The mask was stuck to him.

“…It won’t come off right now. But it’s alright.”

“What do you mean…?!”

The skin around the adhered mask was distorted, and dark blood vessels spread out like tree branches. She had rushed to support Yeon So-hyeon, but as she reached out her hand…

“…Kk!”

…an intense pain, like her fingertips were burning away, shot up her arm. It was due to the Scripture that Commands the Dark and Quakes the Heavens’s Demonic Qi leaking out beyond its limits, despite Yeon So-hyeon suppressing it.

“Didn’t I say it was alright?” Yeon So-hyeon chided her with a deliberately nonchalant tone, pushing himself up using the wall. But contrary to his words…

“…My lord.”

…a thin trickle of blood flowed from his tightly clenched lips.

All heat seemed stolen from his body, freezing even his blood vessels, while simultaneously, a searing burning pain raged through his entire system. The reaction between the Scripture that Commands the Dark and Quakes the Heavens’s Demonic Qi and the Demonic Cult’s Demonic Qi had been far more violent, far more agonizing, than he had anticipated.

But Yeon So-hyeon ultimately straightened his back and stood on his own. The newly learned history of the Demonic Cult’s birth. The heavy sense of responsibility as one who inherited the blood of the Luoyang Sword Clan. That heavy responsibility was, paradoxically, what was lifting his body now.

“I have good news for you.”

“…Yes?”

Thus, Yeon So-hyeon, having stood up, looked at Jeong-ah with a smile and said, “Geum-jil, the enemy of your family, is now dead.”

Jeong-ah shook her head violently, her hair flying through the air. “Someone like that doesn’t matter at all right now!” In this situation, who cares about Geum-jil or anyone else? Is my master really concerned about a mere handmaiden like me, even now? “You must return to Wongakjeong immediately and regulate your energy!”

Yeon So-hyeon shook his head. “No. I cannot.”

“My lord…!”

Jeong-ah’s cry was desperate, but Yeon So-hyeon was firm. “Things are drawing to a close now. The final stages. Variables always arise at such crucial times.” His will was clear. “Until this situation is concluded, there is no possibility of me withdrawing from the front line.”

“But—!” Jeong-ah opened her mouth to say something more, but her voice was cut off by the cries of others.

“Director…!”

They were the Priestesses and shamaness female attendants of the Fairy Cult, who had hastily followed Jeong-ah. Some among them showed slight surprise upon seeing the Venerable One of Dark Heavens’s mask, and others felt concern about Yeon So-hyeon’s condition, but none dared mention it first.

“You have all suffered greatly.”

The Priestess of the Fairy Cult shook her head. “Not at all.” Though she was blind, she approached Yeon So-hyeon without anyone’s aid. “We, lacking in ability, merely assisted you, the Director. How could we be praised for suffering for such a small thing?”

“No.” Yeon So-hyeon firmly shook his head, negating the Priestess’s words. “This was possible because you were here.”

His words were true. The Priestesses and attendants of the Fairy Cult had been diligently searching the Grand Waterway, and ultimately, succeeded in finding the path to the Deepest Core just in time. If not for them, it would have been impossible for Yeon So-hyeon to find and strike Geum-jil at the precise moment, at the precise location.

And in the process of that search, how great had the sacrifices of the Fairy Cult attendants who volunteered been? Many among them had gone mad from the Demonic Qi rising from the deep earth, or were receiving treatment for the aftereffects. Many had also gone missing.

“This place is…?” The Priestess changed the subject. As befitting a Priestess serving the Medicine Fairy, she had no intention of highlighting, embellishing, or boasting of their sacrifices. That was the nobility possessed by them, the attendants of the Fairy Cult.

“…Yes. Where this passage ends is the very Deepest Core of this Grand Waterway.” Yeon So-hyeon nodded and looked back.

Far down the passage, the flickering torches held by the attendants searching downwards illuminated sections of the collapsed walls. The forms of the corpses that had covered those passages were nowhere to be seen. It was an empty passage.

“Priestess.” Yeon So-hyeon asked her, “Do your eyes see anything?”

The blind Priestess lifted her head, looked towards the far end of the passage, and sighed. “…It is filled with chaos and confusion. Fear and hatred. Resentment and sorrow.” 

Were these the emotions harbored by Geum-jil and the collective entity of corpses surrounding him? Or were they fragments left behind by the suffering etched into the very souls of those trapped in harsh labor in these depths centuries ago?

“Director!” Just then, an attendant searching at the front called out. They had reached the end of the passage, the entrance to the Deepest Core.

The Deepest Layer, where the Venerable One of Dark Heavens and the aberrant being had clashed. The space shaped like a gourd. Though the vast space had partially collapsed during the battle, was half-buried in earth and sand, and soil was still trickling down… from the end of the sloping passage, identifying the ‘walls’ of the space was not difficult.

“This is…!”

“What is this…?!”

The attendants, faces aghast, stood at the passage’s end, holding torches and illuminating the walls of the Deepest Core. As Yeon So-hyeon, Jeong-ah, and the Priestess approached, they stepped aside, their faces pale.

“…It seems to be entirely human bone.”

Just as she said, the walls of that vast space were made entirely of countless human bones and crudely applied plaster. Bones that looked like femurs. Slender arm bones. Rib cages.

Bones.

Bones.

And more bones.

It was a wall crafted from the bones of at least several hundred, perhaps close to a thousand, individuals, revealing its white presence under the flickering torchlight. Previously covered by the Demonic Cult’s Demonic Qi, appearing only black, its true form was now revealed as the Demonic Qi dissipated.

“These remains are…” Yeon So-hyeon, having heard the Demonic Cult’s history from Geum-jil, could deduce the identity of the bones. “…the remains of those who were bound here and forced into labor by the previous dynasty and the Sword Clan of the past.” 

The bones of those who died endlessly under harsh labor were brought and piled up by newly conscripted workers. And when those who built the walls died… the next batch of conscripts came and built the walls with their bones. No one had explained it, but the process by which those walls were built centuries ago seemed to play out clearly in his eyes.

“…I have seen records of similar rituals in ancient sorcery.” The Priestess spoke. “It is said that if human bones are stacked according to an axis and the appropriate ritual is performed, it can become a ‘vessel’ capable of containing even formless things.”

What was she seeing with her sightless eyes?

“But, this scale…” Her entire body was drenched in cold sweat.

“Come to think of it, a vessel…!” Jeong-ah suddenly recalled, speaking with an aghast expression. “According to oral legends, the previous dynasty, trying to revive the nation’s fortune, dug the artificial Imperial Lake, following the words of some Daoist priest.”

“Yes. That legend is largely correct. But to be more precise…” Yeon So-hyeon raised his hand towards the ceiling, and everyone’s gaze followed. “They dug the Imperial Lake.” His hand traced a winding path downwards. “And connected the Grand Waterway starting beneath Luoyang all the way here, creating this space beneath the lake.”

“You mean this place is beneath the Imperial Lake?!” The attendants and Jeong-ah looked shocked. They were currently located underneath a massive artificial lake.

“Yes. This place is…” Yeon So-hyeon continued, looking at the gourd-shaped Deepest Layer, a space so vast the torches couldn’t illuminate it all, his expression bitter. “…the vessel meant to gather earth energy and artificially create a Dragon Vein.” He added, “And it is also where the Demonic Cult was born.”

Yeon So-hyeon relayed the history he had heard from Geum-jil to the shocked group. As the history filled with deep regret unfolded, the eyes of those listening widened as if they would tear.

“…And that’s what happened.”

The shocking hidden history Yeon So-hyeon recounted came to an end. Everyone once again looked around the deep, wide Deepest Layer. But in the eyes of the attendants, in Yeon So-hyeon’s eyes, even to the Priestess with her strange power, and to Jeong-ah with her Dragon Eyes… no one could see anything like a Dragon Vein. All that was here was an empty space and the bones of countless who had died. This was merely the legacy of madness.

Amidst this insane scene, while no one could easily speak, Yeon So-hyeon was the first to break the silence again. “Once this matter is concluded, I will make this space public.”

He continued, “I, and the Sword Clan, will take full responsibility. If necessary, I will request it of His Majesty the Emperor as well.” His gaze fixed on the wall. “All the remains here must be recovered, a formal memorial service held, and then… this space must be filled in.”

Those who died centuries ago. Moreover, those who were merely slaves. It would be impossible now even to find their descendants. Even taking full responsibility, that was likely all that could be done.

“But, my lord,” Jeong-ah couldn’t hide her bewildered expression. “…Outside the main clan, there will be those who try to exploit this somehow. And if that happens, within the main clan, there may be those who would resent you for revealing this shameful past.” It was a rare expression of concern from Jeong-ah.

“That is true. Moreover…” The Priestess also nodded, agreeing with Jeong-ah. “At this time when the Demonic Cult is active, we cannot know what impact revealing this hidden history might have. Perhaps waiting for a more opportune moment—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Yeon So-hyeon immediately cut them off. Though clearly exhausted, his words carried a heavier weight than when the Venerable One of Dark Heavens’s Demonic Qi had mixed with his voice. “This is not a matter of gains and losses.”

More grave than ever before, he spoke each syllable distinctly, as if hammering in nails.

“There is no ‘opportune moment’ for taking responsibility and reflecting on the past. I, and we…”

It was a declaration, a resolution.

“…will neither bury nor forget history.”