🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 11
“Why aren’t you asking?”
I didn’t know what tone of voice suited this appearance. I’d never spoken to a human child before.
So, I imitated the way humans spoke when they talked to me.
At my question, Sehwa flinched slightly and glanced at the fox for permission.
“You may answer,” the fox said.
Once he gave the go-ahead, Sehwa rolled her eyes briefly before speaking.
“I wasn’t sure how much I was allowed to know.”
That was an unexpected answer. I blinked in surprise, but Sehwa kept her gaze lowered, maintaining silence.
“No wonder the Mistress cherishes you,” the fox remarked.
“I told you, it’s not that,” the fox muttered under his breath, shooting her a brief look.
“The answer to your question is as you see it,” the fox continued. “You must’ve already noticed that it’s hardly normal for a tiger cub to prefer herbs and elixirs over meat.”
“…Yes, Master Luju.”
After a short pause, Sehwa replied again, “But if it’s something I’m not meant to know, I’d rather not hear it.”
She bowed politely as she spoke. The fox’s lips curved upward, seemingly pleased by her attitude.
“I suppose it’s fine to tell you. San-gun is a spiritual beast—an yeongmul—currently in the process of regaining power.”
At those words, Sehwa’s eyes widened.
A spiritual beast—she knew them only as rare, sacred creatures that most people would never see in their lifetime. Beings said to guard the mountain spirits, training toward ascension.
Though old martial records told of warriors who increased their power by consuming a spiritual beast’s core, such tales had faded into myth. No one in the current age claimed to have seen one, let alone taken such a core.
Yet now one stood before her. Unbelievable—but the sight before her gave truth to the impossible.
“I… see…”
“I once owed San-gun a debt,” the fox said. “I couldn’t just abandon him.”
He had thought about it, though. When I looked at him reproachfully, he averted his gaze with obvious guilt.
“He was once a ruler of the mountains, little different from a king. So serve him well.”
“With all my heart. But… may I ask, how did San-gun come to the human realm?”
The fox looked to me for approval, and I gave a small nod. This much was fine to tell.
“According to San-gun, a calamity is approaching—one humanity alone cannot withstand. We must prepare for it.”
At the word calamity, Sehwa’s body stiffened.
A flicker of fear passed through her eyes before she composed herself again.
“…What would you have me do?”
“Help San-gun adapt to the human world. He favors herbs—keep supplying them.”
“I understand, Master Luju.”
Sehwa nodded firmly. Her expression, as though steeling herself for a mission, was almost unfamiliar.
“By the way,” the fox asked, “what now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you staying in tiger form, or will you keep your human one?”
There was no human in Cheonwolru quite the same age as the form I had taken.
Still, it drew less attention than a tiger cub would.
“How old do I look, in this form?”
“A girl of about seven years, San-gun.”
“I’d like to stay like this, but… maintaining it is difficult.”
I clenched my small hand. I could feel the energy leaking from my core just by holding human form.
“Not enough yet. I should at least be able to maintain an adult form.”
For now, I could only stay human for short periods; the transformation consumed too much energy.
“It won’t be strange for a tiger cub to live here if I’m known as Cheonwolru’s mascot.”
“If that’s your judgment, so be it,” the fox said, nodding in understanding.
I extended my hand toward him. “Do you have anything besides inhyeongsam (ginseng dolls)?”
“…That was pure luck to find! For now, be satisfied with elixirs and herbs.”
“Che.”
“Oh, honestly, what kind of fate ties us together like this…”
“You took the words right out of my mouth. What a wretched fate.”
Sehwa, who had been listening to our bickering, looked utterly bewildered.
When I tugged lightly on her sleeve, she flinched and looked at me.
“You must have many questions. Ask.”
“Ah…”
“It’s only natural not to know how to act around me. You can ignore that fellow when speaking. For example, you might ask how I saved him.”
“Sa–Sa–San-gun!!” the fox sputtered.
“That’s the price of treating me like a pet.”
When I glared at him, he scratched his cheek and looked away.
“Then… may I ask a few questions?”
“Of course.”
“Then… may I ask your name?”
Her first question was my name?
“…Is that what you wish to know?”
“How can I serve you properly without knowing your name?”
That made me laugh.
“You’re right. As for my name—I’ve been called by many. Humans once worshiped me as the Mountain Spirit, or San-gun.”
Sehwa swallowed hard.
“But calling me that sounds awkward, doesn’t it? Then… hmm… call me ‘Tiger-nim.’”
“Hey, San-gun, that’s way too lazy a name.”
“What? Naming is tedious.”
“Then call yourself Cheong Hye-ryeong (靑慧靈)! That’s far better than Tiger-nim! Honestly, how can a young girl go by ‘Tiger-nim’? Your naming sense is hopeless…”
“What was that?”
[It’s a lovely name, San-gun,] chimed Jimjo’s telepathic voice from afar.
Though I didn’t want to admit it, I nodded slightly.
‘Wise Spirit’…
I doubted I was wise or spiritual. If I were wise, I wouldn’t have died in my past life; if I were truly spiritual, I wouldn’t have chosen vengeance on the Blood Sect.
Still, I liked the meaning. It acknowledged, in some small way, my past struggles. The surname Cheong likely came from the color of my fur.
“Then… may I call you Lady Hyeryeong?” Sehwa asked cautiously, trying to defuse the tension between me and the fox.
“You’ve given me a name I like,” I said. “So tell me, do you desire anything in return?”
Sehwa looked startled.
“The name came from the Mistress, not me…”
“You asked, and she gave. A name is a precious gift; it’s only proper to repay it. Let’s see…”
I frowned slightly, thinking of what to give her—but soon realized the answer was obvious.
“Right. No matter what happens, I’ll save your life once.”
“M–My life?”
“Yes. I have no jewels or treasures humans value, nor can I spare spiritual herbs right now. But I know what living beings hold dearest.”
It wasn’t difficult. All life fears death.
And Sehwa was now entangled with us—inevitably, someday, she’d face the Blood Sect against her will.
She seemed to grasp the value of my promise instantly.
“Thank you, San-gun.”
She bowed deeply, her expression solemn. I smiled faintly, pleased by her sincerity.
“And… I’ll only take human form when I’m with you. Humans often guard themselves around their own kind, but relax around animals. I know that much.”
Indeed, Sehwa always appeared gentler when alone with me.
“I’ll remember that.”
“And while in human form, I want to learn about humans from you.”
Until now, I had lived apart from the human world, focused only on training.
Even after a thousand years, there was much I didn’t know about their kind.
“I’ll be among them from now on, so I must learn. That fox says the people of Cheonwolru are all well-mannered and cultured—so I wish to study those things here.”
Sehwa nodded calmly. “I’ll teach you properly.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. For now, just think of me as Cheonwolru’s little tiger and treat me comfortably.”
“If you say so… then I understand.”
“No other questions?”
Sehwa lowered her eyes.
“San-gun, Sehwa has many duties,” the fox reminded.
“I know. I won’t get in her way. Just watching her work is interesting enough—and educational, too. But if you’re really worried about me being a distraction…”
I put one hand on my hip and pointed at the fox with the other.
“Hand over more elixirs and herbs.”
“…I left them in your care, didn’t I?!”
“Think of it as paying back your debt to me. Cheap price, isn’t it?”
“…Damn it.”
At least he didn’t deny it.
“Then it’s settled. Sehwa, I’m counting on you.”
I extended a small hand toward her. She knelt, lowering her gaze to meet mine.
“…I’ll do my utmost, San-gun.”
Her posture was polite, even reverent—as if afraid to touch me. I found it both satisfying and strangely unsettling.
