Chapter 473
There is a woman without a name.
No, she has had names a few times, but she has never gotten attached to them or given them any significance.
After all, a name that will disappear with time.
It would be rather troublesome to become attached to it.
Because if she does, it might linger in her heart and become bothersome the next time she repeats her life.
The woman must continue to repeat her life.
That was the task given to her until she reaches the desired outcome.
How many times has that been?
The number is far too many to count.
The ‘first’ time that now comes to mind, if she had to specify, happened around the thousandth time.
Numbers are no longer important now.
Let’s just call it ten thousand.
It was probably several times more than that, but the woman decided to think of it as ten thousand.
A life full of repetitions.
For what reason must she repeat this so many times? She had completely lost sight of her original intent.
As she repeated the process and moved forward, albeit in a slightly better direction, she found herself here.
Even so, the woman tried hard to recall her memories.
She had to remember the times when she had a name.
She had to record the moments when she could smile, even if just for a brief moment.
That was the driving force that kept her going.
– Ah.
She recalls the name that was called out to her, both brusque and affectionate.
It’s a name she will never hear again.
When she returns to the beginning, everything becomes as if it never happened.
Even memories that were once significant can sometimes turn into mere illusions.
Throughout her long life, the woman had done many things.
She had even become the owner of the most prominent merchant house in the Central Plains.
There was a time when she became the ruler of the largest national postal service in history.
She also lived a life as the leader of the Murim Alliance.
And there were memories of being the head of a family clan.
She had lived so many lives.
She accomplished many tasks, yet…
Her endings always remained the same.
A crumbling world.
Or a world she has destroyed.
As the world collapses, despair engulfs her.
Regardless of the life she leads, the ending is always the same.
Nothing changes.
Despite countless efforts to do things differently, the conclusion was always identical.
What meaning does such repetition hold?
Is there truly a better way?
Why has this happened to her?
These have been the cogs in her mind, spinning through long thoughts and years.
Of course, even those thoughts dulled over time in the face of endless cycles.
Yet, she has never stopped.
In reality, pondering doesn’t change anything.
She simply keeps living.
Thus, the woman…
Hated her other half who looked exactly like her.
And she felt envious, too.
In this cycle of repetition, she could achieve a blissful forgetfulness, unlike herself.
She truly envies the other woman who can maintain her beliefs after experiencing that oblivion.
Amidst the multitude of her experiences, she recalls the hundreds of lives in which she held onto her beliefs.
There was a time when she tried hard to save the world.
She thought of it as a conviction and saw it as a mission bestowed upon her.
How absurd.
Such a firm conviction, after countless years, inevitably rots and dulls away.
That’s precisely what happened to her.
Now, what remains for her isn’t conviction nor duty.
Such things have long crumbled away, leaving nothing behind.
What she has left now is merely faint memories.
– Spicy food isn’t my thing. It tastes terrible.
She remembers a grumbling voice after going through so much effort to make something.
– It’s cold, isn’t it?
The childishness of trying to hold someone’s hand with trivial chatter.
– … I’ll go ahead. Sorry.
The resolve to sacrifice herself to save that woman.
She remembered everything in painful detail.
Thus, she continues to live.
As time passed, she abandoned many things.
Every time she let go, it felt like her heart was being torn apart.
Yet, in the end, she had to release them one by one.
That was the only way she could survive.
The woman? No.
She has never valued her own life.
If she dies, she’ll just have to start over from scratch.
What she cherished was not that.
She began by casting away the trivial until she reached what mattered.
She let go of the name someone called her by.
She released the hand that once held hers tenderly.
She stopped being the one always to take the first step forward.
Still counting her days, she finally realized.
She wanted to protect it, but…
By doing just that, she learned that she couldn’t protect it at all.
She threw things away.
With every abandonment, the feeling of her heart shredding remained.
That feeling never dulled.
She had to get rid of something.
That was the only way to survive.
Not because of ‘me,’ but for ‘him.’
In the end, the world continued to deteriorate and decay.
What the woman wishes for is but one thing.
Rather than seeking her own forgetfulness…
She hopes for him to live in a world without an end.
Faith and pride.
More significant to the nameless woman than such worthless things that fade with time.
Therefore, she gave up on walking beside him.
He, unlike his nature, could easily give his life for others.
Having lived so many lives dedicated only to himself and burned them all away.
Ironically.
He managed to survive for most of his life without her.
Until the world crumbled and rotted away.
Not to mention, after living a few more lives, refusing to accept that truth…
The woman found a way to release her denial.
He must live because she is not there.
Even with that certainty, what she couldn’t easily relinquish was her filthy obsession and greed.
Isn’t it still true to this day?
In the end, she couldn’t let go of the desire to be close to him.
While finding vicarious satisfaction in casting glances at the woman who resembled her, her ugly jealousy remained unchecked.
Even while knowing she should cast everything away, there are definitely things she cannot part with until the end.
This is why she can only be astonished.
“Someone told me that.”
At first, he was an enemy she cursed to the ends of the earth.
“I turned back time and sent it to the past.”
Later, he became a precious friend.
Even further down memory lane, he became her husband who gave her a name and called her by it.
“They say it’s you. Is that right?”
Which meant that the woman had even tossed away what was supposed to remain.
The eyes of the Cheonma, upon hearing my question, were unmistakably wide with astonishment.
I had never seen eyes so wide.
How could such eyes, which usually brim with arrogance and an unsettling chill, become so large?
It was almost reminiscent of the expression of the current Wisul-ah.
‘What on earth is this?’
I immediately banished that thought from my mind.
It must be an illusion—their faces are similar.
How could such a terrifying being be compared to that mess?
‘An illusion from similar faces.’
Upon reflection, that was also a problem.
If I were to compare the faces of the fallen swordsman and the Cheonma behind me, aside from their hair and eye colors, one could hardly tell them apart.
How could that be?
At the same time.
‘Why is this arm acting up?’
The hostility still emanating from my left arm was also unnerving.
This is the sensation I had felt from the blood demon.
Why would I feel something similar from the Cheonma?
Conversely, why didn’t I sense it from Wisul-ah?
‘What are they?’
What on earth are these two?
At least… it seems plausible that the Cheonma has connections to Hyulma.
If that’s the case, then it implies, in other words, that Cheonma and Wisul-ah are related.
Does it suggest that the Blood Demon and Wisul-ah are connected as well?
‘Blood Demon and Wisul-ah?’
How so?
When I ponder over that, the complexities only multiply.
I would need to delve into how the Sword God raised such a hypocrite as a granddaughter.
It’s not something to ponder right now.
‘Right now.’
What matters most to me is the Cheonma standing in front of me.
I couldn’t entertain any other thoughts with her presence.
No insane person would be able to think of anything else while faced with such a colossal entity.
Moreover, it’s a rare sight to see the Cheonma with such a rigid body.
‘… Would a surprise attack work right now?’
Such trivial thoughts drifted across my mind, but I knew it was futile.
I had witnessed everything that had happened to Sogeomseong just moments ago.
No, I was too slow to catch even a glimpse.
‘The road ahead is dreadfully long.’
When I think over it, I realize just how lofty the place I aimed to reach was.
I fully understand that it’s impossible on just my own.
It’s quite discomforting to be reminded of something I already knew so well.
“… Hmm.”
After hearing my question, the Cheonma froze for a brief moment.
Then, she quickly relaxed her posture and rested her chin on her hand.
She looked deep in thought.
And moments later.
Dududuk!
She released her grip that had been holding the crack shut.
Tsk tsk tsk!
As the pressure on the formerly sealed crack dissipated, her hidden form reemerged as if unveiling what had been restrained.
And then.
Kwuk!
“…!”
Just like before, I felt my body being drawn toward the crack.
Panicking, I attempted to muster my energy.
“I see. In the end, it seems I have no other options.”
The Cheonma glances at me murmuring those words.
“My interest has faded.”
The voice of the Cheonma, expressing this sentiment, seemed to possess an unusual glimmer of lightness.
“What are you suddenly rambling on about…?”
“If you enter through this door, you will be able to return to your original world.”
“…What?”
I stared at the gap she pointed to.
What was this opening? A door leading back to the world I once knew?
‘Why on earth did that come up now?’
It was absurd.
What have I even done here?
‘If this is the case, what relevance does regret hold?’
Isn’t this entirely unrelated to what the Tang Emperor talked about?
The Cheonma gestures toward the open door.
“Now, go.”
“…I still haven’t received an answer to my question.”
After struggling to articulate my thoughts, the Cheonma cracks a smirk.
“I already knew you weren’t asking genuinely for an answer.”
“…”
“Did you believe I was oblivious?”
I swallowed hard at the Cheonma’s words. I thought I reached a point of understanding, but she seemed to have directly anticipated my intent.
To put it accurately, while hearing an answer would be nice, she was correct that was not my true aim.
It was simply about wasting time and shifting focus.
But.
‘That answer is likely…’
Could I perceive it as her admitting she was indeed the one who sent me back in time?
“…Why?”
I couldn’t help but pose the question, unwittingly.
Why on heavens?
How on earth did she regress me, or by what means?
“Why do you…?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a person who belongs to the world you came from.”
“Stop your lies. I know…”
“Lies?”
The Cheonma’s brow furrows at my statement.
In addition, an overwhelming pressure emanates from her body.
“Do not presume to judge me when you know nothing about me. I am quite displeased.”
“…”
Whether it was annoyance or irritation, her words were strikingly chilling.
Just a release of pressure made the air feel distorted.
I found myself breathless under that overwhelming weight, unable to utter a single word.
“You are not of this world, so just vanish.”
“…I… not yet.”
“You have fulfilled what this world sought. This door serves as evidence.”
The Cheonma speaks, yet…
I haven’t done anything.
Whichever choice I make, the outcome remains unchanged.
That had been the very statement of the party leader concerning me.
With that perspective, I found that since my arrival in this world, I hadn’t achieved anything at all.
Did she read my expression? The Cheonma continued, her cold gaze fixated on me as she spoke.
“You are mistaken about something.”
“…What?”
“No matter what you do from the beginning, it will make no difference.”
“What is that…?”
– Are you afraid the Demon Sword Guardian might die trying to protect you? Is that why you wish to save him?
“…!”
– Or are you scared for the creature behind me getting hurt?
The Cheonma casually phrases her words, causing my entire body to stiffen.
How on earth does she know about this?
Leaving my shock aside, the Cheonma presses on.
“I’m unsure what dreams you harbored, but it seems there are matters even the one who sent you to this world is oblivious to.”
“…You…”
“As long as I exist, you cannot change a thing.”
“What on earth… what exactly is your true identity?”
How can you know this?
“That is a ridiculous question. Don’t you already know my identity?”
The Cheonma looks at me and smiles.
“I am the Heavenly Demon. I bear no other name. Even if one existed.”
While uttering that, she gently brushes my cheek with her hand.
Having done something, my stiff body finds itself unable to escape her comforting touch.
My arms were trembling.
My left arm was shaking violently, seemingly troubled by the Cheonma’s caress.
The Cheonma glanced at my arm, slyly narrowing her eyes as she spoke to me.
“I have already forgotten.”
Simultaneously as her words were spoken, the magical gate exponentially expanded.
“You should do the same.”
And then, the crack swallowed me whole.
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