Honbul: Flame of the Soul

“The mother-of-pearl box... where... where did it go?”

“Ah... that?”

The boy let out a dazed laugh.

“I threw it away.”

The strength drained from Myojeong’s hand where it gripped the boy’s collar. Freed from his grasp, the boy collapsed onto the floor.

Myojeong stood there staring blankly ahead, like a man who had lost everything. A moment later, his arms dropped limply to his sides. Bowing his head, he covered his eyes with one hand. He looked dangerously unstable, like someone standing at the edge of a cliff.

The boy looked at him and asked:

“Tell me. Did you really deceive me?”

“...”

“Did you really kill my parents?”

“...”

“Were you really going to kill me too?”

“...”

No matter how long he waited, Myojeong did not answer. At last, the boy’s face twisted.

“Answer me! I said answer me!”

He grabbed at Myojeong’s black robe—the robe he himself had sewn and mended by hand countless times. He shook it desperately, then began pounding his fists against Myojeong’s chest.

“Tell me it was all a lie...”

Only then did Myojeong finally move. He seized the boy’s wrist and shoved him away with cold force.

“No. You were right. It was all true.”

The boy crashed across the floor and slammed into the wall, knocking over the candlestick beside him. The overturned oil lamp spilled across the floor, flames spreading instantly through the room.

But neither of them spared the fire a glance.

The boy’s shoulders shook violently. Staring at Myojeong through tear-filled eyes, he asked:

“Then... not even once... were you ever sincere with me?”

His voice trembled pathetically. Emotion surged up uncontrollably.

At that, Myojeong pressed a hand to his forehead and began to laugh under his breath.

“This little vermin ruined everything in the end.”

Vermin.

The boy did not know exactly who Myojeong meant. But the words carved straight into his chest.

He stared blankly up at him.

The Myojeong before him felt like an entirely different person. His shoulders shook with laughter like a madman’s. Behind him, the overturned oil lamp had already spread to the bedding, the flames swelling larger and larger.

“Still... I suppose this was inevitable.”

Myojeong muttered to himself with bleak self-mockery.

Then the laughter vanished.

The expression on his face turned indescribably cold as he looked the boy over carefully.

Without warning, he strode forward, grabbed ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) the boy by the scruff of the neck, kicked open the paper door, and threw him outside like baggage.

The whole thing happened in an instant.

The boy rolled across the yard and barely managed to push himself upright.

Myojeong stepped out onto the wooden porch with the blazing room behind him and tossed something down in front of the boy.

Clatter.

The boy looked down.

“Yes. I killed your parents.”

It was a sword.

“...”

The boy stared up at him with shaking eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you over and over?”

At some point, Myojeong had drawn a sword of his own.

“Never catch a Naja’s attention.”

He stepped down from the porch.

“If you meet a Naja, run.”

Myojeong looked down at him with utterly merciless eyes.

“I’ll give you one chance. Will you run?”

Only then did the boy finally understand.

The man before him was no longer the master he knew.

He was the enemy who had murdered his parents. The villain who had raised him only to kill him. The kind master he had loved had stripped away his mask and revealed the monster underneath.

His face was cold and unfamiliar.

Myojeong hated your parents. You are the seed of that hatred.

At last, tears spilled down the boy’s face.

Today, he had learned countless things about Myojeong. About himself too.

But there was no joy in any of it.

Only grief so overwhelming he could barely breathe.

The boy bit down hard and forced back his tears.

His fingers clawed into the dirt beneath him, but when he opened his hand, nothing remained.

Nothing except rage.

Betrayal.

Loss.

Sorrow.

And lingering attachment.

If you meet a Naja, run away. And if someday you cannot run... never forgive them.

“Why should I run?”

The boy wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve.

“I won’t run.”

He glared up at Myojeong with reddened eyes.

“And I won’t forgive you either.”

He picked up the sword lying before him.

“Hahahaha! Yes. Exactly. That’s how it should be.”

Myojeong burst into delighted laughter, as though he had been waiting for this all along.

“My disciple indeed.”

Looking genuinely pleased, he drew his blade fully and tossed the scabbard aside. The sword pointed straight at the boy, his eyes blazing fiercely. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

The boy slowly rose from the dirt.

By now the fire had completely engulfed the thatched house. Sparks scattered through the night air while burning beams and rafters collapsed inward.

“I’ll ask one last time.”

The boy wiped away his tears and drew his own sword.

“Why did you kill my parents?”

“Your parents were worse than stray ghosts. Their existence itself harmed the world. Even if I returned to that moment, I would still cut off their heads.”

“Did you really take me in just to kill me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why keep me alive all this time?”

“...”

Myojeong fell silent briefly.

Then, expressionless, he tilted his head slightly and smirked.

“You were useful material. It seemed wasteful to kill you immediately. I thought you might prove useful someday.”

His voice was casual. Indifferent.

“And besides, once I took you in, deciding when to kill you was my right.”

At that instant, Suhyang’s mocking voice resurfaced in the boy’s mind.

Maybe he raised you as a sacrifice. Like Myojeong said, Naja are vicious creatures who would sacrifice even their own children.

It felt as though his heart were being ripped apart.

At last, the boy raised his sword, eyes burning with hatred.

Their gazes met.

Master and disciple lunged at each other simultaneously.

Steel crashed against steel.

A violent gust exploded outward.

Myojeong’s sword descended relentlessly, wave after wave.

The spiritual force within it was unlike anything the boy had ever faced before—heavy, cold, mournful.

He really intends to kill me.

The boy steeled himself.

Then I’ll kill you first.

And after that, I’ll follow you into death.

In that moment, life lost all meaning.

The boy had nothing left to fear.

He swung his sword with everything he had.

Again and again their blades collided. Merciless master against despairing disciple.

“You learned well.”

Myojeong grinned broadly, teeth bared.

Then, for a fleeting instant, an opening appeared in his defense.

The boy thrust his sword forward immediately.

But at the final moment, his hand faltered.

Myojeong instantly knocked the blade from his grasp.

“I told you countless times. Never hesitate before an enemy.”

His irritated tongue clicked softly.

The sword spun through the air before stabbing point-first into the ground.

At the same time, Myojeong’s blade pierced straight through the boy’s side without hesitation.

Ah.

Ah...

Aah...

The boy staggered backward several steps, staring blankly down at the sword embedded in his body.

Then the pain hit.

Agonizing pain tore through him all at once.

He collapsed heavily to the ground.

Pressing his forehead into the dirt, he screamed.

“Aah... aaagh—!”

Blood poured endlessly from the wound in his side.

“This is disappointing. It ended far more anticlimactically than I expected.”

The razor-sharp blade rose toward the boy’s throat.

“You were never meant to live.”

Lying in a pool of blood, the boy glared up at Myojeong with hatred-filled eyes.

You should never have fed me.

You should never have let me sleep beside the fire.

You should never have patted my head.

You should have killed me before I ever learned warmth.

You should never have told me I had been born blessed.

“Fine... then kill me...”

The sword hovering above him looked ready to pierce his throat at any second.

“You’re not even going to beg?”

Myojeong looked down at him for a long while.

Then suddenly, he flung his sword aside.

His expression was unbearably bored.

“When you learn to act without hesitation, come find me again.”

The boy groaned weakly, clutching at the dirt.

“Just... kill me now...”

“All living things die once their time comes. But killing you here like this would be a waste.”

A crooked smile tugged at the corner of Myojeong’s mouth.

“It might not be bad to leave behind proof that I existed in this world.”

His eyes grew strangely distant.

“You will become that proof.”

The boy’s limbs trembled violently. His vision kept darkening.

“My pitiful disciple. Defy your fate if you can.”

Those were the last words Myojeong left behind.

He removed the black robe from his shoulders and draped it over the boy before turning away.

The lingering warmth of the robe wrapped around his body.

The boy struggled to force his fading eyes open as he watched the broad back of the master abandoning him.

“No... you already killed me...”

His split lips moved faintly.

“You killed my heart...”

Watching Myojeong walk farther and farther away, the boy whispered over and over:

“Traitor...”

He stared blankly up at the night sky with unfocused eyes.

The countless stars overhead, the drifting sparks, the remains of their home collapsing into ash—

all of it seemed to whisper the same word to him.

Traitor.

Again.

Traitor.

Endlessly, mercilessly—

traitor.

It was a tender and cruel night.

The boy could neither hold onto Myojeong nor follow after him. The voice that would never reach him echoed on and on.

“Traitor...”

Traitor.

The young yet ancient boy stared up at the cold starlight.

“Traitor...”

And after everything vanished, Jaegyeom remained.

The stars reflected on the water shimmered faintly.

Somewhere far away, insects cried out. The sound of waves drifted softly through the darkness.

He had thought it was all long buried in the past now. Thought he had become numb to it.

But perhaps because of the alcohol, something welled up inside him anyway.

Jaegyeom frowned slightly as he looked up at the night sky, then slowly closed his eyes.

“Myojeong betrayed me.”

After speaking quietly with his eyes shut, Jaegyeom turned onto his side, putting his back to Yoon Taehee.

Taehee said nothing.

He did not offer comfort. He did not try to probe the depth of Jaegyeom’s pain.

He only watched silently as the boy curled up like a night insect.

His back looked slightly thin, his shoulder blades protruding sharply beneath his clothes.

Slowly, Taehee reached out a hand toward him.

Just before his fingertips touched Jaegyeom’s back—

“...Yoon Taehee.”

The voice came suddenly from the turned-away figure.

“No matter what happens, don’t ever deceive me.”

Taehee’s hand stopped abruptly in midair.

“No... actually, deceive me if you want.”

Jaegyeom’s voice was quiet.

“But if you’re going to deceive me, then don’t let me find out.”

At those words, Taehee slowly lowered his hand.

“...”

In the end, he said nothing.