Looking for the Runaway Heavenly Maiden - Chapter 90

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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90.

Gihyeongrang gazed downward in silence. The Spring Water might as well have been a phantom—the ground above lay utterly parched, devoid of a single drop of moisture.
I had nearly seized them. Nearly captured Cheonhaerang and Ryujiho, yet they slipped through my fingers with such pathetic ease.
Blocked by nothing more than that wretched Eungryong.
A cold sigh escaped me as I swept my hair back.
How peculiar it was. I had bound the feet of those who aided Cheonhaerang and Ryujiho.
Yet it seemed as though someone else had intervened.
Gihyeongrang emerged from the Cave.
Kugung. Boom!
A thunderous roar echoed across the realm. Behind Gihyeongrang, the Cave collapsed inward.
He paused mid-stride, his gaze lifting toward the heavens.
The sky was utterly black—not a single star pierced that darkness.
The thick, oppressive malevolence surrounding him greeted him with grim welcome.
The world was already becoming his own. Perhaps eternal passivity was not his fate after all.
Gihyeongrang’s mouth twisted into a distorted smile. That was the moment.
Whoosh—something coiled around his body. And then—
Crash!
A razor-sharp blade and a golden staff collided with violent force.
Gihyeongrang welcomed his unexpected visitors with open arms.

“So no matter how much I struggle, I cannot defy the Jade Emperor?”

Gihyeongrang’s eyes rolled slowly, meeting the gaze of the Jade Emperor. His golden pupils blazed like wildfire.
Gihyeongrang unbound the chains that encircled him. With a soft whisper, they scattered into ash and vanished.
Gihyeongrang seized the hilt of his blade. Simultaneously, he unleashed his power.
Hand Ogeong would hardly be affected, but Yeonhwa… perhaps it would be different.
Gihyeongrang sneered as he parried Hand Ogeong’s assault.
Clang, clang, clang! Crash, clang, clang!
The metallic friction of their blades rang out across the vast expanse.
Hand Ogeong’s attention was entirely fixed upon Gihyeongrang, leaving him oblivious to what was transpiring with Yeonhwa.

“Gack!”

Yeonhwa coughed up something that had risen to her throat. A crimson clot of blood.
It was identical to when she had borrowed her mother’s power to re-seal the Evil Spirit.
Even breathing became laborious, and her entire body trembled violently.
It felt as though she were facing the Evil Spirit itself, not merely some fragmented projection.
The dread I had harbored proved all too accurate.
Gihyeongrang was already transcending the Evil Spirit, becoming an Evil Deity.
The Patriarch had instructed me to wait—until the day Gihyeongrang became an Evil Deity.
On that day, the Sword of Spiritual Dao would pierce the Evil Deity’s heart.
Those words had presumed the day when the Evil Spirit’s seal would be completely undone.
But if this was the extent of his power before the Evil Spirit’s seal fully broke—
What would become of him once he absorbed the Evil Spirit entirely?

‘Can this even be won?’

What had Gihyeongrang done? How could a mere half-human, half-divine being accomplish such a transformation? Her mind reeled beneath the crushing weight of yin energy, consciousness growing ever more distant.
The oppressive darkness of yin energy bore down upon her body, and Yeonhwa’s thoughts grew increasingly hazy.
Thus she failed to notice what was coiling around her.

“My, Hand Ogeong. It’s kind of you to welcome me, but shouldn’t you spare some attention for our precious princess?”

At those words, Hand Ogeong’s consciousness, which had been wholly consumed by his battle with Gihyeongrang, snapped back to awareness.
Only then did he realize—Yeonhwa’s attacks against Gihyeongrang had ceased.
Dread seized him in an instant. Whether he had been beguiled by Gihyeongrang’s cunning tongue mattered little now.
He had to confirm her condition first.
Whoosh!
A violent torrent erupted. Water in the form of a colossal dragon surged toward Gihyeongrang.
In that moment, Hand Ogeong turned to look behind him. Yeonhwa’s body was ensnared by black tendrils.
It was his fatal oversight—he had lost sight of her.

“Yeonhwa!”

Hand Ogeong rushed toward her, grinding his teeth in self-reproach as he severed the tendrils.
The vines shattered in an instant, and Yeonhwa tumbled into his arms. She had lost consciousness.
Laying Yeonhwa upon the ground, Hand Ogeong cradled her cheek with trembling hands.

“Yeonhwa. Come back to me. Please?”

A sharp, piercing sound—a barrier materialized around them.
Hand Ogeong held Yeonhwa’s body firmly and lifted his gaze, staring at Gihyeongrang standing beyond the barrier.
Razor-sharp shards flew at Gihyeongrang from all directions, yet they shattered before reaching him.

“Gihyeongrang.”

Hand Ogeong’s wrathful voice thundered across the heavens and earth. Yet Gihyeongrang showed no fear—only an unsettling composure.

“Hand Ogeong. You think this is my fault again?”

No, it wasn’t. It was your blunder once more.

A cunning, silver tongue moved with serpentine grace—like the enchantment of an Evil Spirit.
Though Hand Ogeong knew he should not listen, he could not shake Gihyeongrang’s voice from his mind.

You know why Cheonuyhua parted from you, don’t you?
Poor Cheonuyhua. Had she never met you, she would never have fallen to such ruin.

He had destroyed her. Hand Ogeong already knew this truth with bone-deep certainty. And so he could do nothing.
Memories of the past flickered through his mind like a lantern show.
He had repeated his mistakes once again.
This time, he had wanted only to protect her.

Cheonuyhua will regret meeting you, again and again.
Forced to seek your help once more, she will.
And so she will crumble again.

His eyes, which had been in a state of perfect clarity, began to darken. His focus grew increasingly blurred, and as his consciousness grew hazy, the barrier itself began to fade.
Gihyeongrang was delighted by Hand Ogeong’s deteriorating state. Hand Ogeong’s weakness remained unchanged—Cheonuyhua.
Gihyeongrang raised his hand, preparing to breach the barrier.

“Snap out of it, Jade Emperor!”

A voice I could never forget, achingly familiar.
With Cheonhaerang’s voice came a sharp whistle—something pierced through the air and embedded itself in Gihyeongrang’s palm. Simultaneously, a formidable barrier blazed across Hand Ogeong’s boundary.
Gihyeongrang understood at once. It was the Spirit Turtle’s Shell.
Those he sought had walked back into his grasp of their own accord.
The arrow lodged in Gihyeongrang’s hand ignited with a whoosh, then vanished in flames.
The arrow left a deep mark seared into his palm.
Like a brand.
Gihyeongrang swung his marked hand. Black smoke poured from it, spreading thick through the air.
The smoke streaked like tendrils, hurtling swiftly toward some distant point.
Boom!
A deafening roar erupted, accompanied by blinding light. Light he despised.
Gihyeongrang’s movements froze without his consent. It was merely an instant—a fleeting mistake.
In that single instant, he lost his quarry once more.
Gihyeongrang ground his teeth in frustration, dissolving into the darkness.
Where Gihyeongrang had vanished, only pitch-black malevolence remained.
Morning never came to the Mountain.

* * *

“Jade Emperor, are you all right?”

The worried voice piercing through my ears jolted me fully awake.
I looked around. Cheonhaerang and Jiho were staring at me.
Behind them stretched a dense Forest—a landscape I had witnessed before.
I spotted the ruins of a Manor.
Gihyeongrang’s Residence.

“…How in the world did this happen?”

They say seeing is believing. After exchanging glances with Jiho, Cheonhaerang decided to show Hand Ogeong the Sword of Spiritual Dao.
The Sword of Spiritual Dao, now imbued with the power of all creation.
Cheonhaerang opened his palm. The Sword of Spiritual Dao materialized above it.
A spectral aura shimmered faintly along the bronze blade before dissipating.
Hand Ogeong glimpsed something reflected in that bronze gleam for an instant.
A distant memory—the two of them gazing at each other, laughing together.
Perhaps Seon Igyeong was showing him this.
It was certainly Seon Igyeong, the one Yeonhwa had recovered. Yet Seon Igyeong had left Yeonhwa.
Not content with shattering Gihyeongrang’s barrier, it had sought its own path of its own volition.
Thus the Sword of Spiritual Dao had attained its complete power.
In a sense, this should have been cause for celebration. Yet Hand Ogeong could not bring himself to rejoice.
It was not because of Yeonhwa, who lay unconscious in his embrace.
His thoughts turned to Gihyeongrang.
Gihyeongrang—the Evil Spirit incarnate, or perhaps now worthy of being called an Evil God.
Cheonhaerang would have to face him.

“Can Cheonhaerang even wield the Sword of Spiritual Dao properly? That weak Cheonhaerang, now as before.”

Why did Eul’s words return to him now—those cunning whispers spoken with a serpent’s tongue?
The words that had fractured Yeonhwa’s faith.
Had he himself harbored the same doubts all along, merely feigning trust in Cheonhaerang?

“…Yes. It is fortunate indeed.”

That Seon Igyeong had chosen its own path and come to rest in Cheonhaerang’s hand was truly a blessing.
Jiho observed the Jade Emperor’s expression, which seemed tinged with melancholy, and felt a flicker of bewilderment.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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