INV 78

Geom Biyeon could not believe the fact that Pungbaek had accepted Kwon Yihyeon without much issue.

However, whether someone harbored doubts or was confused, it was not a reality that would be influenced by such things.

No matter what anyone said, the earth continued to turn.

In order to restore the world that had gone mad, cooperation between each realm was necessary.

“We will begin the briefing now. From this moment on, each of you in your assigned teams will travel through the mountains, streams, and forests to find the earth pulses and connect them to this location. To the shamans who have been invited, we ask for the performance of the Gut rites.”

Talisman for connecting the earth pulses and the ritual grounds were handed over to each individual, and even as the groups were divided between the personnel of the Underworld and the Celestial Realm, many words were exchanged among the shamans.

“Is the intent to appease the Mountain God? I wonder if we can receive consensus from the State Tutelary Deity.”

“They say our side is also doing its best to persuade them, so we ask for your kind understanding.”

At that moment, Kwon Seon-ja muttered a word.

“I told them to withdraw everyone lest they ruin the work by acting arrogantly.”

Geom Biyeon did not miss even those words.

“Yes, we shall do so.”

Soon after, Geom Biyeon proved that his words and actions matched through a subsequent refusal to follow the chain of command. He followed Kwon Seon-ja’s words by dissuading and suppressing a superior who was trying to step forward to persuade further.

At this, Kwon Seon-ja looked at Geom Biyeon for a moment, and Geom Biyeon tilted his head from behind his sunglasses.

“Is there a problem?”

“I was merely thinking that you accept things quite readily.”

“I have simply accepted a rational opinion rationally.”

“I wonder why such flexibility cannot be exercised toward my grandson.”

“Haha.”

Geom Biyeon let out a short laugh and resumed the briefing in front of the shamans. Since only those of high standing had gathered, the bickering between the gods was intense, and even though it must have been taking a toll on Geom Biyeon’s physical body, there was no change in his expression. Since his face hadn’t changed even when Kwon Yihyeon was mentioned openly, perhaps it was to be expected. Kwon Seon-ja thought of this as she recalled her grandson, who would have started the search after scattering with his team.

The boy was a bit thin. He seemed to have taken it as a joke, but there was nothing wrong in what the elders said.

Recalling his sorrowful face as he spoke in a stifled, sobbing breath that he was okay now, her heart felt like it was breaking again.

Nevertheless, Kwon Seon-ja felt fate even in this moment.

An instinctive intuition that she must never intervene. Kwon Seon-ja was a shaman. She would have died long ago if she hadn’t followed such instincts. In other words…

That demand from the Jae Angshin to offer up Kwon Yihyeon—had she wanted to defy it even at the cost of her life, she could have.

She could have charged in, suggesting they all die together.

But Kwon Seon-ja did not do so.

At certain times and at certain moments, one had to act this way. Even if one’s heart was collapsing and breaking, it had to be so.

It was not a greedy desire of old age to preserve her own life.

There was an inexplicable conviction that this was the righteous path.

⋆˙⟡

Kwon Yihyeon felt something strange from the moment he received the talisman.

‘…Chacha?’

When he received the talisman, he clearly heard a whisper of something. However, no one else reacted, so Kwon Yihyeon naturally judged that Chacha must have spoken to him. But was it a premature judgment? Chacha said nothing, and as a result, Kwon Yihyeon was left alone in a strange mood. That led to the present.

The earth pulse search teams had to scatter and look over the entire Korean Peninsula, and among them, Kwon Yihyeon’s team was assigned to Bukhansan. From what he heard during his education under Man Juhae, Bukhansan was the primary and foundational mountain of this land, Seoul; a very large mountain extending beyond the Seoul area to Goyang City, and it was said to be a famous mountain of the nation. Being such a land, there was advice from Myo Woon that the search for the earth pulse required special caution. Particularly in the case of the Jae Angshin’s contractor, the State Tutelary Deity might reject him, so if even a hint of rejection was felt, he was to forget the search and come down to save his own life first.

Even so, she added that he shouldn’t worry too much, as a major rejection reaction was unlikely to occur.

Myo Woon’s explanation was that proclaiming such power in the 21st century was difficult, and if a bolt of lightning were to strike, it would have struck from the moment he entered Bukhansan.

Words intended to put his mind at ease followed after that, but Kwon Yihyeon could not control his strangely pale face as he wished.

Normally, he would have cast a smile quickly, but a throbbing—which he couldn’t distinguish as being because he was holding the talisman or because he had reached Bukhansan—was defying his normal heartbeat. Yes, so Kwon Yihyeon was currently possessed by an abnormal sensation.

His heart pounded to the point of pain, and his mind turned dizzily white at intervals. Half of the thoughts in his head flowed away like a dream, and only half remained, leaving fragments of words in a disastrous state like melted paper.

Bukhansan. State Tutelary Deity. Ten thousand years.

But nothing remained properly. Thus, Kwon Yihyeon quickly lost the rational judgment that he should head down Bukhansan. Even the faint intuition that perhaps there was no need to do so vanished quickly.

Soon after, Myo Woon, who had been ordered to scatter, shook Kwon Yihyeon’s shoulder with a worried face and looked back a couple more times as she moved away, but Kwon Yihyeon no longer remembered even how he had responded to her.

It was because only after everyone had moved away from him could he clutch his chest and take large, heaving breaths.

“…What on earth.”

What is this?

A moment ago, the sound of a bell clink-clinking brushed past his ears, and at that sound, his entire soul was shaken; he witnessed a scene where a five-colored brilliant halo of light burst forth before his eyes, and a golden bird appeared flashing in the midst of it.

But when he came to his senses, everything was exactly as it had been a moment ago.

Inside an ordinary mountain. An ordinary forest full of bird songs, where the greenery was lush and the shadows were deep blue. A profoundly quiet world where the only thing strange was his own pulse.

The sound of crickets and grass insects echoed tranquilly…

He could not understand for what reason he was standing here, and why he had to come here.

‘What on earth was that thing I saw earlier?’

An optical illusion? A hallucination? But it was a golden bird far too vivid to be called a mistake.

It was definitely a hallucination.

‘Now I’m truly going mad.’

An inexplicable sense of exhaustion washed over him.

Kwon Yihyeon sat down on the dirt floor for a moment with his palms pressed against his pounding chest and hugged his knees.

Was it because of the coldness of the ground? A strange chill rushed in. His bones ached and his teeth chattered.

This shouldn’t be happening. It wasn’t the kind of weather or clothing for this.

The time was midday and it was summer. Kwon Yihyeon hugged his head, shuddering at the sensation where his senses betrayed reason and logic. He didn’t want to go mad any further, but he was gradually losing his mind. The dull pulse seemed to burrow through his ears into his brain, making his head ring.

However, when the second sound of the bell clink-clinked, the halo of light did not fade even when he squeezed his eyes shut.

Even when he opened his eyes again in shock, the halo did not disappear. No matter how many times he rubbed his eyes with his hands and blinked, the spectacle before him did not vanish.

A golden light, incomparable even to the sun, was bursting forth along a certain trajectory like fireworks.

And as if to enchant him, the bell sounds of the ritual ground began to echo like a clink-clink-clink song.

Kwon Yihyeon felt goosebumps all over his body.

The melody from above the clouds, which could not be heard with normal senses, was rising plaintively along his spine.

‘So, I am now hearing the sound of the ritual ground that is supposed to connect with the earth pulse…’

No matter how much the world might call him mad, Kwon Yihyeon felt he could not defy this any longer.

He had to follow the trajectory of the light.

He was clearly possessed. But the self-evident fact was that it had no intention of harming Kwon Yihyeon.

He was firmly enchanted by a fascination that did not threaten him.

Even while being aware, Kwon Yihyeon could not put a leash on his attracted heart.

A single human rose unsteadily from the shadowed ground and began to walk toward the greater light.

The journey—where the only thing leading him was a hallucination and the only thing helping him was an auditory hallucination—was quite miserable. His steps, as he was already not in his right mind, lacked strength, and because of the scattering of light flashing before his eyes, he repeatedly lost his footing and fell several times. Though it wasn’t a cliff, he tumbled down from high places. But because there was a place he had to go, he did not hesitate. Even when his ankle was injured and he could no longer walk, he grabbed the stones embedded in the ground with his hands like a madman and forcibly pulled his body forward.

And so, when he finally reached the waterfall of light.

‘Ah.’

Kwon Yihyeon, placing his hand on the earth pulse where light was exploding abundantly, finally bowed his head and sobbed.

‘Now I understand.’

Why he had to come here.

Why he was born.

‘Why you loved me.’

At the same time, he realized.

‘You will surely erase this memory.’

Kwon Yihyeon would end up forgetting. The moment he came, Kwon Yihyeon would forget all the realizations of this moment.

But just because it was forgotten did not mean the truth disappeared.

Ten thousand years ago, this mountain was here just as it is,

And even then, we were here.