Wandering Through Vol. 2 Chapter 53 - Capture, Oblivion

The dragon god wanted to extend the shrine maiden’s life.  

 

So, he made a deal with the crown prince.  

 

Even if the prince’s wish came first, Yiseo secretly believed it was all the dragon god’s fault. 

 

It was the dragon god’s doing for tempting the naive prince, who didn’t truly understand what it meant to bargain with a deity.  

 

If the dragon god had simply ignored the prince’s summons, none of this would have happened.  

 

But this…  

 

Without realizing it, Yiseo placed her hand on the silk wrapping the coffin, then flinched and pulled away. She bit her lip.  

 

No. Even so, everything was the dragon god’s fault. 

 

All of it.  

 

It was because of the dragon god’s meddling—his insistence on prolonging Yiseo’s life—that everything had turned out this way. 

 

From the very beginning, wasn’t it the dragon god who intertwined their fates, so the prince could share Mongmae’s lifespan?  

 

If the dragon god hadn’t done such a thing, the prince would have lived and died as he was meant to, and Mongmae would have lived her life without ever knowing him. 

 

But because of that unnecessary entanglement, even the afterlife had been ruined.  

 

The prince was blameless.  

 

Repeating this to herself, Yiseo forced herself to look away from the coffin.  

 

Then, she took out the flint she had brought. Her hands trembled faintly. Closing her eyes, she struck the flint without looking at the coffin.  

 

Sparks flew.  

 

The silk shrouding the coffin caught fire.  

 

As the flames began to rise, Yiseo staggered to her feet.  

 

It was over. This was the end. Of everything.  

 

Since it was inside the stone coffin, the fire wouldn’t spread outside. There was no need for Yiseo to stay and watch.  

 

Yet, after sitting before the burning coffin for who knows how long, soot had already stained her clothes. She hadn’t even noticed the pain in her legs. 

 

Limping, she stepped out of the crumbling shrine.  

 

Ironically, the moment Yiseo exited, the shrine’s pillar snapped, and the ceiling collapsed with a heavy thud—as if it had been waiting all these years just for her.  

 

Staring blankly at the ruined shrine, a faint blue light slowly swirled in Yiseo’s eyes.  

 

…The dragon god was returning to her.

 

An excruciating pain surged through her entire body like a tidal wave. Yiseo collapsed face-first onto the ground. 

 

From her parted lips, only fragmented moans barely escaped. Her whole body felt as though it were burning. 

 

Unable to move, she endured the agony right where she had fallen.  

 

It felt like an eternity—or perhaps just an instant.  

 

“Ugghhh…”  

 

Her senses returned. As the torment finally subsided, Yiseo weakly pushed herself up from the ground. Her body still ached all over, but since receiving divine favor couldn’t possibly heal her frail body to begin with, there was nothing she could do about it. 

 

Gasping for breath, she barely managed to stand.  

 

The sunset was fading.  

 

It looked as though the mountain itself was on fire.  

 

Like a blaze vast enough to reduce everything that had happened so far to ashes.  

 

Dragging her motionless legs, Yiseo staggered a few steps away from the ruined shrine. Then, she spotted a man standing on the mountain path, where no one else was around.  

 

A man with the same deranged appearance as the last time she saw him—Leegwang.  

 

Though their meeting was entirely unexpected, Yiseo wasn’t surprised.  

 

No—was it really so unexpected?  

 

From the moment she saw the words ‘Come back’ scrawled across the white silk, from the moment she realized he was chasing after her even in his madness—perhaps, deep down, she had already anticipated this.  

 

That in some form or another, he would eventually follow her.  

 

…But he was too late.  

 

Any memories of past lives must have already been erased.  

 

She approached Leegwang. His body, now like an empty house abandoned by the divine, was teeming with restless spirits. 

 

In his clouded eyes, not a trace of reason remained.  

 

Having even forgotten why he had come here, he stood blankly until Yiseo cupped his cheeks in her hands. His face obediently lowered at her touch. 

 

Gazing into his eyes, she whispered,

 

“You gave me life. In return, you sought a bond—but since I cannot give you that, I offer you the most precious thing I possess, the god I serve.”

 

The dragon spirit that had left Yiseo’s body began to settle once again into the empty vessel of Leegwang. 

 

Yiseo wondered if perhaps the dragon spirit had foreseen even this moment. 

 

In the end, nothing had changed in this life.  

 

From now on, Leegwang would still command spirits as the vessel of the dragon, and Yiseo would still share in his lifespan.  

 

The only difference was that now, no one but Yiseo would remember their past lives. The man who had once controlled her using their past lives had now forgotten them.  

 

Now, Yiseo was free.  

 

If the dragon spirit had foreseen all of this—if it had allowed everything to unfold this way—then it had truly cherished its priestess.  

 

Leegwang’s body swayed under the sudden surge of agony. 

 

Yiseo tried to catch him but ultimately couldn’t withstand his weight and toppled backward. His large frame collapsed over her, groaning in pain.  

 

Though the weight left her breathless, Yiseo stroked the head resting on her chest. 

 

Gently running her fingers through his hair, she whispered, “I’ll find a way to survive without taking your life from now on.”  

 

So that in the next life, we won’t even brush past each other. So that I won’t have to take anything from you ever again.  

 

Yiseo thought of the man who had hurt her—and whom she had hurt in return.  

 

Perhaps in the beginning, we were bound by fate…  

 

But now, we are bound by resentment.  

 

🦋

 

A drop of ink fell onto the thin mulberry paper.  

 

The ink spread in a perfect circle. Eunbi, holding the brush, frowned at the ruined sentence.  

 

Because she…  

 

She…?  

 

What had she been writing?

 

Eunbi stared down at the paper stained with ink. She couldn’t make out what she had been writing. It must have been something important, but…  

 

She struggled to remember what she had been doing, but her mind was completely blank. Frustrated, she stood up abruptly and stepped outside. 

 

Just then, a middle-aged woman approached Eunbi and spoke.  

 

“As you instructed, Madam, we provided the servant with ample travel expenses and sent them away.”  

 

“The servant?”  

 

“Yes. The one you brought from Hanseong…”  

 

The woman continued speaking, but Eunbi couldn’t quite grasp what she was saying. Her head throbbed faintly.  

 

Right. She had brought a servant with her.  

 

She had been someone’s nursemaid, and she thought that person would be pleased to see her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t recall who that ‘someone’ was.  

 

In fact, she had probably come here because of that person.  

 

A friend? Family? Who was it?  

 

“Madam, are you feeling unwell?”  

 

Eunbi looked at the woman, who seemed genuinely concerned. This woman—the lady of the house—was the wife of a distant relative Eunbi barely knew. She had only become acquainted with her to borrow the guest quarters.  

 

And the reason Eunbi had borrowed the guest quarters was…  

 

“Since there’s a physician inside, shall I call for him?”  

 

Come to think of it, why was there a physician in this house…?  

 

“You look pale. Please sit here for a moment. Hey, you there! Fetch the physician from the guest quarters.”  

 

Eunbi sat down on the wooden floor. Beads of cold sweat formed on her pale face. The flustered woman scolded the servant.  

 

“What’s taking so long to bring someone from inside the house?!”  

 

“Madam, the scholar in the guest quarters collapsed in the courtyard, so the physician can’t come right away.”  

 

“What?”  

 

The exchange between the woman and the servant sounded muffled, as if coming from far away. 

 

Inside, Eunbi slowly turned over her own thoughts in silence.  

 

Who was this scholar in the guest quarters?

 

He’s the young master of Minister Shin’s household.  

 

Why is he here?  

 

Because he’s part of someone’s group.  

 

It felt like an empty hole had formed in her mind. The frustration was unbearable, but the hole was so vast and overpowering that even that frustration was slowly sucked into it and disappeared.  

 

Suddenly, Eunbi wondered why she was even worrying about such things.  

 

It was wrong for a married woman to wander so far from home without her husband’s permission, but she had done so out of anger—rage over a husband who hadn’t come to her since their first night.  

 

At least, that’s what she thought.  

 

Was it because of the news that the Grand Prince, who had ignored her from the beginning, had brought some woman into the inner quarters?  

 

Neither the Queen Dowager nor the Queen reprimanded him, and her own family offered no support, so she had been furious.  

 

Because Eunbi had wanted to save that woman, the Grand Prince brought her into the inner quarters…  

 

Eunbi tilted her head in confusion for a moment, then shook it side to side.  

 

No—she had wanted to drive that woman out. But failing to do so had frustrated her so much that she ended up wandering this far away.  

 

But now, she had to return.  

 

To the Grand Prince.  

 

“Ugh…”  

 

Just the thought of going back to him made her suddenly nauseous. Her mood soured, and a chill ran down her spine.  

 

Was I feeling unwell?  

 

A raindrop fell onto her shoulder.  

 

“If you get caught in the rain, it’ll only make things worse. Hurry inside.”  

 

A woman fussed over her and pushed Eunbi into the room.  

 

The rain fell outside the window all day.  

 

Soon, the air grew heavy and humid.  

 

Eunbi, drenched in the early summer rain, fell seriously ill and soon forgot about that spring. She was severely scolded for leaving home without a word for days, but the reason why she had done something so deserving of reprimand quickly faded from her mind.  

 

The same was true for Suyeong.