Chapter 380 – Longing for Someone’s Embrace

In a world where no one dies.

A realm where one need not endure the loss of a lover, friend, or parent – a world that seems conjured from a dream.

The patriarch who established the Cornus family longed to conquer death throughout his life, so as not to lose the fruits of his labor, to shield his kin, or to witness the end of his offspring as they matured.

The man was a rare talent who surpassed the limits of his era. No matter what notable figure emerged after him, he remained so formidable that the saying “the old master is the true master” was inevitably applied to him. Having lost his parents when he had just become capable of fulfilling his own responsibilities, he detested the unbearable sorrow that accompanied losing a loved one.

He loved so fervently that he would have surrendered the entire world, but still, he lost. That one conviction he held dear was passed down as a family creed, to be honored for generations to come.

To never lose anyone again.

To prevent a loved one from leaving my side.

A tale seemingly from a fairy story became a family motto, and the Cornus family dedicated themselves to adhering to this motto throughout the years.

Eternal immortality.
Create an undying wooden figure.

It was more common for a single phrase to endure than the fervent emotions of one person. No one could halt the distortion of the family motto as it deteriorated.
Growing conviction across generations.
Children subjected to indoctrination regarding the family motto.
It was evident that those who sought to grasp the tail of “immortality,” even risking their own lives, were somehow misaligned with the original intentions of the man who founded the family.

Many kings who feared death lent their support to the Cornus family.
As they expanded to the point of nearly engulfing the world, they occasionally became a threat to others. Yet, the Cornus family harbored no ambitions for power.

Merely one dream.
It was this dream alone that they pursued.

The dream of the Cornus family, which had persisted until the present day, seemed on the brink of realization. Yet, it was nothing more than a fleeting illusion, like foam stretching far into the distance.

“Sanhyeokwon.”

A middle-aged man leaning against the wall, gazing at the ceiling, slowly lowered his head.

A white blade was thrust before his nose.

“We carry out the heretical execution of the head of the Cornus family, Sanhyeokwon.”

Sanhyeokwon offered no response to the heresy judge’s subdued voice. His hollow eyes scanned the surroundings, as if searching for the faintest glimmer of hope.

Sunken eyes. A missing right eye. The black spots clinging to his entire body relentlessly hastened his impending death.

The corpses of researchers who had already perished were heaped nearby, a testament to the family members who had met their demise without a single survivor remaining.

“Thus…”

He monologued.

“I poured everything into it…”

He tried to clench a fist with his feeble hand. Memories of his childhood flickered through his mind.

– Sanhyeokwon.
– Yes, father.
– To you who will lead our family in the future, there is something I must tell you.

From a young age, you displayed a remarkable genius in swordsmanship and expanded your business to such an extent that it attracted the attention of the nation. You amassed wealth from all corners of the world. Becoming a hunter yourself, you managed to monopolize a significant portion of the elixir’s ingredients.

– You must complete the elixir within this generation. Our world is hurtling towards destruction. Although unintentional, this elixir could be the salvation the world needs.

Against all odds, you acquired the carcass of a dragon once thought to be an impossible feat, as well as the body of the Heavenly Demon.

– Even if our family faces extinction…

My entire body trembles, consumed by an overwhelming sense of defeat. For hundreds, even thousands of years, we have endured, driven by a singular purpose. In this moment, having forsaken love and even our own kin, we stand at a crossroads, casting aside all that we once held dear in pursuit of our objective.

This is not just my own life’s work, but the culmination of the entire Cornus family’s legacy.

Over a thousand years, countless family members painstakingly searched for a single clue.

“…”

And they lost it.

The sword of the Inquisitor swiftly ascended and struck down upon Sanhyeokwon’s neck in one fell swoop.

-*Slash!*

Had he not strayed from the path dictated by the family’s creed, he would have occupied a higher position than anyone else present.

-*Thud*, *Roll*.

He once stood taller than any star – a prodigious genius of his generation. Mugung and White Peach, contemporaries of the same generation, slowly turned their heads as they beheld Sanhyeokwon’s severed neck.

“It’s astonishing to think that someone who brought the Cornus family leader to their knees and abducted the eldest daughter of Sanhyeokwon…”

A black blemish marred his face.

“Would be your disciple of four years.”
“…Shut up.”

White Peach’s brow furrowed at the sight of Mugung, who spoke as though he were demanding her attention. Her hands were tightly clenched, filled with power.

It seemed the identity of the next heretic was as good as decided. The nature of this power, so readily perceptible at a glance, had captured the interest of far too many people.

At that moment, a woman clad in bright yellow sprinted from afar and caught up with Mugung.

“Are you the Guild Master?”
“Yes.”
“Are you alright? Your injuries look quite severe.”

– Drip, drip.

The woman’s eyes widened in surprise as she noticed the blood flowing from his arms, shoulders, and back. Mugung was a man who enjoyed the thrill of close combat, and although he had declined with age, he had transcended ordinary limits. There weren’t many monsters capable of leaving a mark on his resilient body.

“Don’t fuss over it, young lady.”
“…But, Master, you’re injured. How can you say it’s just a fuss?”
“You mean this wound?”

Mugung chuckled, hiding his injuries beneath his clothing.

“I was bitten by a rare beast.”

* * * * * * * * *

Lee Si-heon is a fool.

“……”

A palpable magic permeated the surroundings. With both hands covering her face, Baekdo couldn’t even find the words to speak.

‘…What on earth is he thinking?’

Is he really willing to turn his back on the world? Even if he is a candidate to be the World Tree’s husband, could such actions be forgiven? Moreover, few people were aware that Lee Si-heon was even a candidate.

In truth, he wasn’t particularly close to any World Tree. Extracting just one member of the Cornus family might be feasible, but the target was Sansuyu—central to the experiment.

Now, with the experiment potentially on the brink of success, the World Tree might become enraged and search for Lee Si-heon.

“So, wait… frostbite? You’re saying he gave that bad man frostbite…?”

Hwangdo’s hopes for a statue were shattered.

Baekdo had assumed they would somehow save Sansuyu, but she never anticipated it would happen in such a ludicrous manner. She yelled at Hwangdo in an agitated tone.

“So, at that time… you should have brought him.”

I should have imprisoned him, even if it meant tearing his limbs apart.
I can’t control my trembling hands.

Hwangdo, who lost her words, remains silent, and Baekdo stealthily glances at Cheondo.

[… …]

Cheondo, who doesn’t say anything. The emotions she feels are shared.
Worry. A hint of anger. Sorrow. Attachment.
Baekdo asks her in a subdued voice.

“What will you do?”

[… …]

Cheondo’s dejected voice comes out plaintively.

[…I’m not sure if it’s worth meeting my disciple.]
“If it continues like this, I’ll die.”

She’s been disheartened for a while since she said something she shouldn’t have. It was the first time the once dignified woman showed such a side.
No, there was one time when she became despondent as the world seemed to slip away.
Who was it because of…?
The heavy fog within her mind halted the connecting thoughts.

Baekdo resolved herself. Now that Cheondo was in this state, she had to take action.
She cast a quick glance at Mugung’s form, clenched her fists, and slowly slipped away from her seat.

“Where are you going?”
“Don’t talk to me.”
“Heh heh heh.”

The times were changing rapidly.
She didn’t know if she could navigate the turbulent currents or if she would perish before the chance arose. She wasn’t even certain of her own future.
Baekdo thought.

Somehow, she had to save her disciple.

* * * * * * *

Aori, I beg you.
.
.
.
.
Please, forgive me with my life at stake.
.
.
.
My liege, I’m occupied at the moment… Please.
.
.
.
Don’t leave.
.
.
.
.

Desperate and on the brink of death, she tried to hold onto the adversary’s ankle.
Traces of being kicked remained in that state.

Countless shattered roots and branches.
The severed remnants of living trees squirmed on the ground, having been slashed and strewn about by sword strikes.

Thump, thump, thump.

The pounding heart resounded as if it would burst.
A gaping hole in the chest.
Two arms and two legs, limbs cleanly severed.

Long ago, just as when a young Aori first met Tae-yang, he approached and sat beside her.

Her condition was a disaster. Naturally, as she hadn’t fled from Mugung, but had chosen to face him in battle. Describing Aori’s body as a living being was a stretch, to say the least.

“Hey.”

Her narrowed pupils trembled as though they might shatter.

“You damn fool.”

Tae-yang’s voice, typically cold and brimming with mischief, cracked, startling those who heard it.

His hands trembled.
The expression beneath her obscured bangs was twisted beyond description.

“…Tae-yang.”

Aori’s expression was difficult to discern.

“I did it.”

Flesh that had reached the limit of its regenerative power, unable to heal any further. Aori twisted the corners of her mouth with a triumphant expression.

“…”

Blood continued to flow.

The pain didn’t seem to bother her much. Aori lowered her cold, stiff head, her red hair obscuring the bridge of her nose.

“I worked hard.”

Twenty years old, and a bit more. A girl who had been persecuted for being the king’s great-granddaughter during those long years. She had suffered cruelty at the hands of everyone she encountered, enduring tortures too horrendous to put into words, and releasing others’ rage on her behalf.

She longed for the embrace of others. She found greater happiness in the outstretched hands of a peer than in the arms of an older man, more than anything else.

A victim born in a twisted world, hidden in an obscure corner.

“The King. Shall I praise you?”

Aori, who coughed up blood, was yearning for someone’s affection even at this moment.

Her intimate encounters had turned violent, and she had been seeking emotional support all along. Her body was covered in scars. She looked around as if her mind was elsewhere, quickly averting her eyes when she saw something she desired. She loathed her own filthy body more than anyone else.

“Will the King enjoy it?”
“Shut your mouth. You insane woman… I can survive.”

For Tae-yang, she was the last remaining connection. His eyes, lost and adrift, were filled with anger, and veins stood out on his face as if he were about to bolt at any moment.

“Tae-yang, are you crying?”
“…”
“I told you, if you cry, your cock will shrink.”

The light began to fade in Aori’s hollow pupils.

The two of them desired nothing from this world.
They had lived with discrimination and persecution, enduring the taste of mold in their mouths. Even after finding some stability in life, it held no fulfillment for either of them. They encountered the person they would entrust their lives to while following an inexplicable command to serve someone.

Numerous challenges arose.
That is, until they met this person.

They roamed the red-light district seeking a kindred spirit, only to find and then lose them. At times, they fought bitterly over a single meal. Gritting their teeth, they argued over who was right and who was wrong, engaging in petty disputes.

Yet, they were bound by a shared sense of longing. For nearly half their lives, they had stayed together, subtly yielding to one another.

– Thud.

The blood won’t stop.
There is still a way to live.

Although both their arms and legs had been severed for quite some time, the fact that blood still gushed out vividly indicated that their regenerative powers were at work.

Tae-yang poured the potion he held in his arms onto Aori and prayed.

“…”

Aori’s eyes observed Tae-yang’s expression, and soon, a meaningful smile appeared on her face.

“Tae-yang.”
“…Why?”

As an indescribable feeling of fulfillment began to fill his heart,

“I’m hungry.”

Aori slowly lowered her eyelids.