A deep rumbling filled the air.
The Magyeong Gate that had swallowed Gu Yangcheon slowly vanished, and even the remnants of the rift disappeared completely. Cheonma stood silently, staring into the void.
The silence lingered, heavy in the surrounding air.
“Haa… Haa…”
Eyes turned here and there, searching for the suddenly vanished Gu Yangcheon. In response, Cheonma’s gaze fell upon Mageomhu (Demon Sword Queen).
“Mageomhu.”
At Cheonma's call, Mageomhu, who was kneeling, lifted her head.
Cheonma could see the regret plainly reflected in Mageomhu’s eyes.
So she asked.
“Do you regret it?”
“…No….”
It was a lie. Mageomhu clearly felt regret. Still, Cheonma didn’t scold her for this falsehood.
Mageomhu had always been this way in the countless lives Cheonma had experienced.
Additionally, there was a layer of repentance in Mageomhu’s gaze—remorse for not having saved her own life, even if the need required it. Cheonma couldn’t help but find it mildly irritating.
Thus, just this once, Cheonma decided to show mercy.
“If that’s what you want, speak up.”
With those words, Cheonma gestured with her hand into the empty space before them. Then—
Crackling—!
“…!”
Space began to tear at Cheonma’s outstretched fingertips.
“If you desire, I can send you there as well.”
“…”
As her hand moved, the rift grew in size.
Unlike the white rift that had swallowed Gu Yangcheon, this rift shimmered with a deep purple light, born of Cheonma’s power.
“…”
Even so, Mageomhu understood.
If she went there, she would be able to see Gu Yangcheon again.
The Sect Leader—Cheonma—was not one to lie.
If she truly entered that rift, could she see him once more?
The thought crossed Mageomhu’s mind.
There were still so many questions left unanswered. Remembering the way Gu Yangcheon had looked at her just before he vanished, Mageomhu was flooded with emotions.
She wanted to see those eyes again. She wanted to know why he had looked at her that way.
The feel of his hands reaching for her in those fleeting moments came rushing back. It was brief, but every moment had left a deep impression on Mageomhu.
But—
“…I won’t go.”
Mageomhu had no intention of going to find him.
Hearing this resolute response, Cheonma tilted her head, asking,
“Why?”
“‘My’ Gu Yangcheon is… here.”
“Hmm.”
Cheonma raised her brows and looked away, a faint smirk on her lips.
What a laughable answer.
The look in Mageomhu’s eyes was clear. Cheonma mused silently as she observed her.
‘My…?’
The subtly possessive words Mageomhu had spoken.
The Gu Yangcheon who had just disappeared was certainly Gu Yangcheon, but…
The Gu Yangcheon who remained in this era held more significance.
It seemed to mean something like that.
Yet the possessive way she claimed him, “my” Gu Yangcheon, seemed directed at her opposite half—and perhaps uttered intentionally for Cheonma’s ears.
‘How annoying.’
Suddenly, a murderous intent surged within her. For the first time in a while, Cheonma felt a fierce emotion bubbling up, though she barely managed to suppress it with a faint smile.
She wanted nothing more than to rip out Mageomhu’s heart right then and there, but she held back.
Mageomhu still had a role to play in this life, and her answer had been satisfactory enough to temper her fury.
Cheonma withdrew her hand, which had been keeping the rift open.
The rift promptly sealed itself and disappeared without a trace.
“I’ll let this slide, since I liked your answer.”
At Cheonma’s words, Mageomhu lowered her head, and a chuckle slipped from Cheonma’s lips.
Seeing that reaction, it was clear her answer had been directed at Cheonma after all.
Normally, she would have punished such insolence, but Mageomhu’s intentions aligned enough with her own for her to let it go.
Also—
“Now that I know where I must go….”
After countless cycles—hundreds, maybe even thousands of repetitions—she had finally found the answer.
Or perhaps, she had always known it.
Maybe she had simply delayed the inevitable, holding on to the foolish desire to see a bit more.
She had wandered all this time, unable to let go of that lingering attachment.
‘In the end…’
In the end, she could not avoid it.
She had tried every possible means, every conceivable effort.
In the end—
‘I have to let you go.’
It was the only way. She only felt certain of this after witnessing it with her own eyes.
Did she feel relieved?
No, only a hollow sense of regret remained.
“Mageomhu.”
“…Yes, Sect Leader.”
“Return to your station.”
“…!”
At Cheonma’s words, Mageomhu looked up in surprise, but no words escaped her lips.
For in Cheonma’s eyes was a chilling coldness, sinking deeply within.
With a step, Cheonma moved forward, heading in the direction of Namgung Bi-ah, known as the Little Sword Star.
In the wake of Gu Yangcheon’s disappearance, the Little Sword Star stood aimlessly, staring blankly into the void.
“I would end this now and start anew if I could.”
A firm grip.
“Urgh…”
Cheonma approached the Little Sword Star and grabbed a fistful of her hair. The once silver hair had reverted to a golden hue.
“But I have a reason to wait a little longer.”
“…”
“I don’t like you. I would tear you apart right now if I could.”
Was it because they looked so similar? Or because he had given this half of himself over to her?
Any of these reasons could be true.
But the real reason was a little different.
It was simply because she reminded her of something.
The woman with those same eyes, once so filled with hope, clinging desperately to foolish dreams of walking beside someone dear to her.
That was what enraged her so.
“If only I could just kill you—”
“Silence. That is not something you should dare say.”
At least in her presence, Namgung Bi-ah would not dare to beg for death.
Cheonma, still holding her by her hair, glanced back at Mageomhu.
“Return to your station and relay this message to the Great Master. I will be visiting in a few days, so he should be prepared to see me.”
“…”
She didn’t wait for Mageomhu’s response.
“And as for you.”
Cheonma continued with her own work.
“Take me to that damned father of ours. I have things I want to say to him in person.”
Namgung Bi-ah’s eyes widened. Noticing this reaction, Cheonma controlled her emotions.
How many more times?
How many tens of times would she have to repeat this?
She had already made up her mind, and she could deal with it now if she truly wanted to.
But not yet. Cheonma needed to wait a bit longer.
Just a little longer.
She needed to prepare the path just a bit more.
After enduring all this time, setting an end now felt unexpectedly heavy.
There was only one thing she could wish for.
‘When all this is over.’
When she had done all she needed to do.
For him to hold her close just once, as he had done long ago, and tell her she had done well.
Though she entertained this notion, she knew, bitterly, that it would never come to pass.
******************
The sensation was surreal.
It felt as though my body was floating, drifting somewhere. A sense of calmness, a strangely pleasant feeling, washed over me.
“Where... am I?”
Perhaps it was because of this unfamiliar lightness, but even my thoughts seemed to blur. I clutched my head, struggling to pull myself together.
I thought back to just before I lost consciousness.
“…!”
That snap of memory brought me back in a flash.
The moment when I was killed by the Heavenly Lord... the fierce clash with that bloodthirsty energy... and that breaking of boundaries, becoming something beyond human.
“…Cheonma.”
Meeting her—that thought alone jolted my eyes open.
“Haaah…!”
As soon as I regained consciousness, I sprang up, recalling those recent events.
“…Magyeong Gate…”
Yes, that white gate that had engulfed me—that was the last thing I remembered.
I glanced around immediately.
“Could it be…?”
Could it really be that I had returned to my original world, as Cheonma had implied? I hadn’t completed anything that could be considered a “trial” in that realm. Returning this helplessly couldn’t be right.
“…Hmm?”
As I looked around, something felt… off.
This wasn’t the barren plains of Sichuan, nor was it the bleak dimension I’d encountered before shifting between realms.
It was… neither.
“What… is this place?”
Contrary to what Cheonma had suggested, I wasn’t in the original world.
It was white.
A strange, starkly white world, stretching in all directions with no clear sense of walls or ceiling.
“Here…”
A sense of familiarity crept in, as though I’d been to a place like this before.
What could this mean?
I was just about to stand up and assess the situation when—
“Hm?”
I noticed something strange. A figure had appeared directly in front of me, though they hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“…”
The identity was unmistakable.
In the distance, someone was there. I narrowed my eyes and focused.
It became clear.
A woman was sitting quietly.
She was seated at a table that seemed out of place in this peculiar space, with three teacups neatly arranged before her.
Her green hair cascaded down to her waist, and her hands were gently folded as she sat with her eyes half-closed.
Cautiously, I called out to her.
“…Lady… No, Senior.”
The woman lifted her gaze toward me. As her face came into clear view, my suspicion was confirmed.
Yes, she was none other than Tang Jemoon, the very one who had sent me here.
“It’s been a long time.”
Her voice was gentle, yet hearing it made my brow furrow. Just the sight of her brought a surge of anger.
At the same time, countless questions sprang to mind.
“What… exactly did you want from me?”
“I’ve been waiting, hoping we’d meet again… but it took so much longer than I expected.”
“No, listen—”
I tried to speak, pressing her for answers, but I stopped, noticing her gaze wasn’t focused on me.
Where… was she looking?
I followed her gaze and turned my head.
And then…
“…Huh?”
Someone was standing there—a figure I hadn’t noticed in my earlier glances around.
An old man, tall and thin, dressed in a white martial robe, with snowy white eyebrows knitted tightly together, stood with his hands behind his back.
A flower petal insignia adorned his chest, a sight that felt eerily familiar, like something I had seen within my own subconscious.
“…Noya…?”
Yes, he was unmistakably Shin Noya.
“…”
I stared at Noya, my eyes wide in disbelief, but his gaze wasn’t directed at me—it was fixed upon Tang Jemoon.
Perhaps because it had been such an unexpected reunion, Noya looked genuinely astonished. And when he finally spoke, his words left me dumbfounded.
“…Who are you?”
“Pardon?”
What…