Chapter 36 : Each Their Own Cliff (3)
Chapter 36: Each Their Own Cliff (3)
A prideful spirit beast had voluntarily given up the fight.
If Hindir kept charging, it would probably fight back, but it felt wrong to attack a creature that had no will to fight.
Still, considering the future of the Charun, he knew he’d have to put aside personal sentiment for now...
But it wouldn’t hurt to confirm a few things first before deciding.
“Were you originally living here, or did you drift in from outside?”
The imugi looked down and hissed softly.
It seemed to be saying it had always been here.
Thinking back, none of the corpses found below the cliff had signs of being gnawed on by this creature or any other beast.
He had simply assumed that no beast had ever reached this depth...
“Did you drive away the predators that roam around this place?”
The imugi nodded its head.
That nod, oddly full of pride, made Hindir chuckle.
Strange.
While spirit beasts all had their own temperaments, it almost looked like this one had been guarding those who died here.
And just above this place was Larka Village.
If it held any malice, there was no way the village would still be intact.
Which meant it had been watching from here for who knows how long...
But why?
“What exactly are you?”
It was a question too complex to be answered through mere gestures or instinctual communication.
It was more of a rhetorical mutter born of frustration, yet the imugi suddenly began to move.
It turned its head outside the cliff and opened its mouth, spraying liquid down to the ground below.
Hindir walked to the cliff’s edge, watching curiously.
The imugi began swinging its head around, freezing the ground below. Soon, Hindir realized it was forming a picture.
And once the shape was complete, he completely let go of any thought of killing this creature.
Waves shaped like clouds in the sky, wrapped by towering mountains.
All of it merged into the shape of a single sword.
“Teran.”
Teran had once said this—
That he would one day forge a new sword art by synthesizing all his insights.
A sword so heavy it could press down both heaven and earth.
And the rough symbol he drunkenly doodled back then looked very similar to this one.
But at that time, Teran had said he hadn’t fully completed it yet and kept putting it off.
Even though he was already one of the most renowned swordsmen on the continent, he was always aiming higher.
Despite his age, he had no disciples, and before he could finish it, war broke out—so all Hindir had seen was an incomplete dream...
“Looks like he did it.”
Hindir had always worried.
Teran was one of the most passionate warriors who had fought for Charun.
Though eccentric, he was highly respected, and Hindir couldn’t imagine what kind of persecution he might have suffered from the Kronik Royal Family.
But seeing such a clear sword mark, he now believed that Teran had achieved what he set out to do.
“So you knew Teran.”
At Hindir’s question, the imugi brought its head closer.
It touched its snout to the cliff’s edge, lightly opening its mouth as if telling him to get on.
“Not the head, huh?”
Phurrrrk—
Its narrow nostrils flared and it blew out a gust of air as if to say ‘no way’.
It wouldn’t fight, but it still wouldn’t let him ride on its head—pride intact.
“Seriously.”
Climbing into the jaws of an enemy he’d just fought with might seem insane, but then again, a creature whose fang was nearly pulled out reopening its mouth was also far from normal.
Hindir climbed in and stood, gripping the imugi’s lower fang.
Then the creature began to move with its mouth half open.
Kurururrr—
Its speed steadily increased until it glided forward at an incredible pace, soaring up the steep cliff face.
Hindir’s view, once filled with the snowy, icy Seolyong Valley, was now nothing but clear blue sky.
Just as he wondered if he was ascending to heaven, the imugi finally came to a stop and opened its mouth wide again.
“This place is…”
He dismounted on a mountaintop above the clouds.
From between the clouds, all the peaks of Seolyong Valley could be seen—an incredibly high place.
And Hindir realized where he was.
“Frost Dragon’s Claw.”
Said to be the mark left when the Frost Dragon reached toward the gods in rage and sorrow.
When Hindir first discovered Larka Village, this was the sheer cliff rising behind it.
Whooooom—
A powerful wind blew, almost as if to deny entry, but Hindir stood firm.
And when the imugi coiled its body around the peak, the winds soon calmed.
Hindir slowly scanned the surroundings, then his gaze stopped at a small hill at the center of the peak.
On that hill grew a single, solitary tree.
“That is...”
A beautiful tree with snow-like white leaves and fruits that shimmered like transparent ice crystals.
Cheongweol Tree
The blue apple tree said to grow in the highest places of this world, under the love of the benevolent Moon Goddess.
It is an incredibly rare spirit elixir known to grow only on untouched high peaks since ancient times.
A single fruit is said to hold the energy of a high-grade spirit elixir. And looking at the tree now, the combined fruits easily equaled several top-grade elixirs.
But greed invites ruin.
If someone picked all the fruits, the tree would instantly wither like a dead husk from ages past.
And the one who picked them would be cursed by the Moon Goddess to suffer from an unquenchable thirst—a thirst only the Cheongweol could cure.
Naturally, consuming multiple elixirs consecutively would be suicide.
But if one didn't consume it, they'd die from horrific dehydration—either way, death was inevitable.
“There was no need to target you, after all.”
The Cheongweol Tree was far more valuable than obtaining a core from an imugi.
Especially for the whole of Charun, the imugi’s core might not have been enough.
But with the Cheongweol Tree, that concern vanished—this was an ideal solution.
Shhh—
Just then, the imugi flicked its tongue and nodded toward the other side of the tree.
There, hidden behind it, was a stone slab Hindir hadn’t seen before—and it stirred him more deeply than even the sight of the Cheongweol Tree.
Though it looked like a gravestone, it was not made of stone—it was forged from iron.
―“Orcus! Look at this. Isn’t it amazing? What is it? A solid iron slab I had made by one of the best blacksmiths on the continent! Go on, try breaking this with that brute strength of yours... What? Why won’t you do it? Hey, you punk! I…”
Teran's voice faded, and reality returned.
This absurdly thick iron plate was what he had once brought to Hindir for a breaking contest.
He had refused, calling it a foolish bet… but in the end, he had won.
Hindir, brushing his hand over it as he reminisced.
“Hmm?”
He noticed a mark in the middle of the iron plate, as if it had been re-melted and joined back together.
“Could this be that plate from back then?”
And beneath that mark, a phrase was engraved.
[If you are the Great Warrior, then challenge this.
If you cannot split it with both hands, you are unworthy of the inheritance.]
“Hahaha—”
So typical of Teran and his love for wagers.
He probably believed that proving one’s strength was the only way to safely consume the Cheongweol.
And any Charun would feel compelled to follow these words out of sheer pride.
“Haa…”
Hindir’s long laughter came to an abrupt stop.
He suddenly realized how strange this entire situation was, and his face stiffened.
Teran was someone who understood the Charun better than anyone.
He would have known that no matter how great a spirit elixir was, it would be useless to a Charun.
And yet, he left this behind.
But with the Muscle-Heart Technique, the story changed.
As if he had known that the one person who knew the technique would return someday.
His heart began to pound violently.
As if entranced, he yanked the iron plate stuck in the ground, laid it flat, and clenched his fist.
Hoo—
Kwaaaang—!
The iron plate dented under his punch.
‘It’s hollow.’
It hadn’t been hollow before.
After a few more punches from Hindir, the fused section split and finally broke.
Thunk—
From the crack, a well-preserved scroll fell out.
He hurriedly unrolled it—and the handwriting was all too familiar.
But the excitement that had been rising in his chest cooled, replaced by a crushing loneliness.
[To the descendants of the Great Warrior tribe, Charun]
It wasn’t meant for him.
‘Of course. Why would it be?’
Trying not to be disappointed by the absurd hope, Hindir kept reading.
[My name is Teran Turph.
As the friend and disciple of the Great Charun Warrior Orcus, I leave behind this letter.]
Hindir bit down hard on his lip.
This was the same guy who used to shout that he would become the Great Warrior and was always burning with rivalry.
Yet here he was, calling himself a disciple—it filled Hindir not with joy, but with the deep loneliness Teran must have felt while writing this.
[By the time you read this, I cannot even imagine how much time has passed or what hardships you've endured.
The world has always been cruel and cold to the Charun.
But I believe.
The greatest warrior I’ve ever known never wavered, and he believed in you—even as he met death of his own accord.
As the one who survived—who could not die, and had to watch the fall of Charun—I prepared a few contingencies out of that resentment.]
[First, I will guide you to the most dangerous place in the world—but for that reason, also the safest. That place is Seolyong Valley, and within it, Larka Village.]
To his surprise, Hindir realized it had been Teran who chose the location of Larka Village.
[It is a place hard for outsiders to find, and few would risk the effort and danger to reach it.
It was once the sacred ground of the Parno family, and the Family Head gave it up willingly for the Charun.]
Indeed, Larka Village’s location was nearly impossible to discover from the outside.
And if it were known as Parno's sacred ground, who would dare trespass?
‘In truth, the sacredness came from the overwhelming mana hidden in a specific dragonbone.’
But now, five hundred years later, he knew for certain that it had actually been a mine of highly pure Ice Crystals.
The sacred value had been redefined through the lens of wealth over time.
And in the next part, Teran had clearly foreseen such a change.
[But sadly, I do not trust the Parno family.
The current Family Head and Lesser Branch Head are undoubtedly honorable.
I trust in the promises and faith they shared with Great Warrior Orcus.
However, Charun and humans are different.
I have seen faith and loyalty change and crumble over long years, and I am certain Parno will not be eternal.
So I prepared the following.]
[Second, if Parno abandons you and the world once again drives you out, then from the depths of that cliff, a giant serpent will rise.
It is a beast I unearthed after scouring all of Seolyong Valley—so powerful that it may one day ascend to become a dragon.
It might even be the Frost Dragon from Seolyong Valley’s myths.
Despite the myth’s tale of a ferocious temperament, it’s actually quite gentle. But that’s how old stories go.
Anyway, I named it ‘Seol’ (Snow).
If danger arises, Seol will take you to the peak of Frost Dragon’s Claw.
If you still hold even a shred of pride and qualification as warriors, you will break the iron plate and read what I left. If not... that too is fate.
At the very least, Seol should be able to help you flee somewhere else, and that alone would be enough for me.
Now I will tell you the final contingency I’ve prepared.]
[Third, that is the Muscle-Heart Technique.]
“……”
[It is something I created with Great Warrior Orcus, to allow Charun—who are born without a core—to harness mana…]
It was all content Hindir already knew.
But it was written in even greater detail than before, and also included a thorough account of the risks.
It was exactly the same Muscle-Heart Technique Hindir had already learned—risks included.
Unfortunately, the true side effects could only be confirmed by another Charun…
[This is everything I’ve prepared for you.
My personal wish is that you would one day reach this place on your own and discover all this—but life rarely goes as we want.
By now, my body has crumbled away without a trace from this world. I only hope that the wish of my dearest friend and Great Warrior Orcus reaches you in the future.
I was a human, and I was Charun.
But to some, I was neither human nor Charun.
So I say this now—
I was a warrior.
And as a warrior, I want to see you once again roaming across the vast continent.
I want to run with my friend once more.
He’s probably waiting for me, wherever he went ahead first.
Toward Kartan.]
It was a farewell Teran had never managed to say—spoken now, five hundred years too late.