Three Thousand Court Ladies - Chapter 64

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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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Chapter 64
“Go alone.”
Sam-cheon spoke in a low voice, and even in the darkness, the sharp edge of her contempt came through clearly.
Her father, awkward and flustered, turned and fled. Sam-cheon’s gaze followed his retreating form without a trace of regret before she reached out her hand toward Arang.
“Lean on me and get up. We only need to reach the place where the words are.”
But Arang refused Sam-cheon’s outstretched hand and remained lying on the dirt. When her head touched the ground, the dark hair that had covered her face fell away, revealing an old scar beneath.
A voice drained of strength flowed from between her lips.
“My lady, there’s… there’s a child trapped in there as well.”
“A child?”
“I can only save my father. It troubles me. If it’s possible, please save the child.”
Sam-cheon drew Arang’s shoulders into her arms and pulled her close.
“I understand. I’ll do it. I promise.”
“Thank you. … I’ve been grateful this whole time, truly.”
Sam-cheon felt as though her chest might shatter. Why did Arang never resent her, even in a moment like this?
“Don’t thank me. I’m the one who broke you like this.”
“When the others kept bringing up my face, going on and on about it… you cut right through them and asked, ‘Do you fight with your face?’ After that, I found it easier to live.”
The effort of speaking at length made Arang’s breathing grow ragged. Realizing something was wrong, Sam-cheon tightened her grip, trying to pull her up.
“Stop talking—it’s draining you. We need to move.”
“My lady, please… just listen to what I have to say.”
Sam-cheon froze, startled. Arang’s voice had become terribly small.
“This scar on my cheek. It wasn’t from a fight with seventeen others—it was my mother’s blade. My father wanted to sell me to a ship. There was a vessel sailing to a distant land, looking for young girls. But a girl with a scar like this would be worthless. So she did it.”
A tear slipped from Sam-cheon’s eye and rolled down her cheek.
“It must have… hurt terribly.”
“Every time my mother saw my face, she would cry. It made my heart ache. I just wanted to tell someone, anyone, once in my life.”
With death drawing near, Arang unburdened herself of words she had carried in her heart. Sam-cheon felt as though her chest would crumble.
“Let’s talk when we get back. I’ll listen all night long—”
“Growing up, all I heard was that I was useless except for being strong. Thank you for calling it my greatest talent.”
“Why are you saying such things? Don’t… don’t speak like that.”
Don’t speak as though this is the end.
“But I am grateful. I was grateful. Truly.”
With those words, Arang slowly closed her eyes.
Her face was peaceful, as though sinking into deep sleep. The rough sound of Arang’s breathing, which had been labored moments before, vanished, and in its place came—
Silence.
Sam-cheon remained sitting, staring at Arang’s lips. It seemed as though at any moment they would part and release the words she had been holding back.
But no matter how long she waited, those tightly sealed lips never moved. The chest that had risen and fallen so roughly lay still.
In that moment of suffocating emptiness, Sam-cheon understood.
Arang was dead.
Death.
In Sam-cheon’s dreams, death was always filled with regret.
I should never have believed those words.
I should never have taken this path.
I should have chosen differently.
I should have doubted that person sooner.
But Arang’s death held only gratitude. Though Sam-cheon had dragged her through suffering, Arang departed leaving behind only thanks.
“You should have resented me.”
Sam-cheon’s lips trembled.
“… I killed you.”
She had withheld proper information about Ire, kept her in the dark.
Not because of doubts—no. Even knowing Arang was a good person, she had built a wall around herself and kept her at a distance.
That’s why Arang died.
Her chest grew tight, and breathing became difficult.
Sam-cheon pulled Arang into her arms. Tears flowed without end. If only this were a dream. If she could just wake up, she could undo it all.
If it were a dream.
… If it were a dream?
Sam-cheon sees death in her dreams.
Only her own death.
Her scattered thoughts converged on a single proposition.
If she died here, she would see this moment in a dream.
Was this proposition true, or false? If true, she could gain a chance to undo things. If false, it would be a meaningless death.
So this was a gamble.
She knew it was reckless. But this time, she wanted to follow the path her heart chose, not her mind.
If she succeeded, her long torment would end. If she could command the Prophetic Dream as needed, perhaps she could prevent the deaths of those she held dear.
Sam-cheon drew Arang’s sword. She reversed the grip and drove the blade into her own heart.
Hey!! Are you insane?!!?
I suppose I am. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first, Ire. I knew you’d object, so I acted without warning. I was afraid you’d talk me out of it.
She needed to answer Ire, but unbearable pain seized her body, draining all strength, and she couldn’t even move her lips. As her mind grew hazy, she heard the clear, crisp sound of a bell.
Drawn by the sound, she turned her head. A woman of ethereal beauty stood before her—so lovely she seemed not of this world. But what caught Sam-cheon’s attention was the bell hanging from her waist.
The woman made a disapproving sound, clicking her tongue.
“I’m only helping this once.”
Jamyeong?
“You recognize me? So you haven’t forgotten me after all.”
Because every time she was saved, there was always a bell hanging from the savior’s waist.
Jamyeong looked curious about her own form, turning her hand back and forth to examine it.
“So the pollution you’re sensing has taken on the form of your own age? That must be the influence of the curse you carry with you.”
Hey! If you’re going to help, do it fast. She’s running out of breath.
Jamyeong didn’t flinch at Ire’s voice. She stared down at Sam-cheon’s chest as though trying to speak with Ire.
“I’ve already helped.”
So you’re not human?
“I am Jamyeong. I am pollution. I’m a being of an entirely different order than your pitiful curse.”
Why do you pity me? I don’t need your pity.
“Because you don’t even understand why I pity you.”
Jamyeong regarded her with a sorrowful gaze and crouched before Sam-cheon. As her breath was fading, Sam-cheon lay motionless in her fallen position.
“I drew the future directly into your dreams. This is the last time I help—don’t do anything reckless again. I’m hoping that this will finally be the end of our bitter karma.”
If it’s truly the last time.
Without Jamyeong’s help, she couldn’t undo the deaths of those she loved. Disappointment flickered across Sam-cheon’s eyes, and Jamyeong added an explanation.
“You lacked will.”
Will?
“The possibility that you might die here—it shook you. This world listens to your will. So steel yourself, no matter what it takes, to survive.”
It was true that she hadn’t been certain. From the beginning, she’d thought of it as a gamble, not a resolve—an impulse.
“There cannot be even a shred of fear or hesitation. If, even after many repetitions, you and your opponent both lack the resolve to survive, then what seeks you out is not an opportunity but death.”
Is such a thing even possible?
Standing in the face of death, how could there be no fear, no doubt? That was the same as saying she could never use this method again.
“You seem to understand. Don’t attempt it carelessly and meet a pointless end. Know that I wish for you to live a long life.”
Jamyeong looked down at Sam-cheon and extended her hand. Her fingers felt across Sam-cheon’s chest.
Pervert! Let go! What are you doing?!
Ignoring Ire’s protests, Jamyeong drew her out. She discarded the scabbard, examined the blade, then tapped it three times with the tip of her finger—tap, tap, tap.
From Jamyeong’s fingertip, a ripple spread through Ire’s steel as it trembled and vibrated.
“Poor, cursed thing. From now on, continue to help this child.”
The moment Jamyeong’s breath touched Ire’s blade, Sam-cheon’s vision blurred white.

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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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