Chapter 110
Certain it was Yi-Gyeol, Seth called his name.
As expected, the faint presence—previously invisible to the eye—reacted at once. It paused for a heartbeat, then ascended swiftly into the sky just before Seth could reach it.
His hand grazed empty air.
He watched, jaw clenched, as the presence deliberately turned away and soared off, refusing even to acknowledge him. Within moments, it disappeared from view beyond the narrow alleyway, its path concealed by the surrounding walls.
Bang!
Unable to contain his frustration, Seth slammed his fist into the wall. When he turned to face Renoc, who had just caught up, the man flinched, visibly unnerved by the murderous aura that came over him.
“He’s here. Somewhere close,” Seth growled.
With sudden urgency, he pivoted and charged down the alley, eyes gleaming with volatile resolve.
“Search every inch around this village. Everything, even beyond the village.”
His voice carried a sharp, almost venomous intensity, leaving Renoc with no choice but to obey.
Seth exited the alley and strode toward the checkpoint. It was only then that he realized he’d bitten down so hard on his lower lip it had started to bleed. The taste of iron pooled on his tongue.
*Joo Yi-Gyeol.*
Even just thinking the name sent a swell of emotion rushing through him.
The presence he’d sensed—it had been Yi-Gyeol. He was sure of it. No matter how faint, Seth could recognize that soul in an instant.
And yet, Yi-Gyeol had fled again. He had stayed in that shadowed alley knowing Seth would chase him if he was discovered. He’d chosen a space so narrow that once he flew beyond the walls, pursuit was nearly impossible.
That cold, calculated decision enraged Seth more than he could express.
He wiped the blood from his lip with a finger.
*Does he really not care if his body dies?*
Even this little blood on his own lip would be precious to him, yet Yi-Gyeol was fighting desperately to escape as if he meant to kill the body on purpose.
When the body dies, the soul becomes untethered—left to wander alone, until the death of its owner.
Could Yi-Gyeol survive that? Could he truly endure such isolation?
The fear of loneliness he had already experienced had been so great that he had clung to Seth, and now he was trying to endure several times longer than that. He would cry and tremble in loneliness, his mind slowly unraveling until he would rather die—and how could fragile Yi-Gyeol endure that?
No. He couldn’t allow it.
He had to stop him. Bind him to his body. Infuse him with vitality. Keep him breathing, no matter the cost. And if Yi-Gyeol’s body failed… he would simply craft a new one. A vessel strong enough to hold him. To chain him in place.
He had to find him before his body gave out.
Grinding his teeth, Seth felt an unfamiliar restlessness gnawing at him—an emotion that Yi-Gyeol alone had awakened. The last image of his pale, exhausted face melded with the memory of the spirit he had just chased.
“Your Majesty!”
Kirsty appeared, rushing forward with an update.
“I’ve confirmed that the young man who was with Yi-Gyeol before sunset stayed at the inn in this village. He arrived alone. A few minutes later, a man in fine clothing with gray cloth wrapped around him also stopped by.”
Even as she spoke, Seth’s anxiety only deepened.
“We checked their rooms, but both were empty. They must have realized we were close and fled.”
“Any signs of movement?” Seth asked sharply.
Yi-Gyeol’s soul had come to check on the situation, so he had clearly known Seth was looking for him and fled in haste. As if proving that, the tense Kirsty finally offered a reassuring answer.
“We’ve confirmed that two carriages left the rental station, each headed to a different village. Yi-Gyeol is probably in one of them.”
She seemed almost excited, hopeful they were close to catching him.
“Shall we divide and pursue both? It’s been no more than thirty minutes since they left. If we hurry, we can catch up.”
Seth didn’t answer right away.
He stood still, calculating, weighing her words in silence.
* * *
“Hah… hah…”
Gasping for breath, Yi-Gyeol finally pulled the cloth from his face. The moment the cool air hit his skin, he felt his lungs begin to clear.
Sweat clung to his brow. He wiped it away with a trembling hand and glanced over his shoulder.
Dark trees surrounded the trail. There were no torches, no signs of pursuit—only the faint shapes of trees and grass, and the chirping of insects in the silent forest night.
After catching his breath, Yi-Gyeol forced his aching body forward. His steps were so slow and heavy, they barely counted as walking. He swayed with every movement, teetering on the edge of collapse.
His body screamed in protest with each step. If only he could lie down on something soft—close his eyes and sleep, just for a while. But there was no time.
*I have to keep moving. Just a little farther…*
He had already confirmed that Seth had arrived in the village where he had meant to stay. Leaving that village with only a short lead, Yi-Gyeol had deliberately sent one carriage toward the nearest village to throw him off. After that, Diven had stopped by the carriage rental place and done the same.
He stepped out through the exit, deliberately left the easy road behind, and entered the rough forest path. Then, leaning against a tree, he fell asleep, using his spirit form to check on Diven’s actions. But Diven followed the contents of the note he had left so well that there was hardly any need to watch him.
Just as the note had said, Diven had sold the expensive shirt and trousers Yi-Gyeol left behind and used the money to send an empty carriage toward a village a little farther away, then changed into the secondhand clothes he had just bought. With his face hidden behind cloth, just as Yi-Gyeol had done, he slipped out before the checkpoint at the exit was completed, heading in the exact opposite direction from Yi-Gyeol, who had taken the forest path.
Yi-Gyeol hadn’t sent him away in a carriage because of Seth. If Seth, while checking the slave trader’s carriage, realized Diven was acting together with him, he thought Seth might accidentally harm him. That much, at least, he wanted to prevent, so he had deliberately written that Diven should also leave the village on foot.
*By now, they’ve probably checked at least one of the carriages… maybe both.*
He imagined the knights already moving after bringing everyone with them.
*He’ll be angry.*
He would be angry that Yi-Gyeol had deceived him. Maybe he would be dumbfounded that Yi-Gyeol had dared to throw him off.
Yi-Gyeol had laid a false trail with two carriages while quietly slipping away through the woods. And then he had even been caught watching the situation in soul form.
—Joo Yi-Gyeol!
The call made him flinch.
He whipped around—but there was nothing. Only the dense silhouettes of trees in the darkness.
The voice calling his name was nowhere to be heard. A faint laugh escaped him because of Seth’s voice, still vaguely echoing in his head.
He could still hear it. Seth calling his name. Reaching for him. The raw urgency in that voice—so unlike him.
*You’re really cruel, Joo Yi-Gyeol.*
He didn’t know what Seth felt or how much of it he felt, but to think that Seth would throw everything aside and come running to find him—it was truly heart-racing. If he could, he wanted to turn back even now and run to him.
But because of that, Yi-Gyeol could harden his heart even more.
*No. I can’t go back. I won’t.*
Because of him, the man called Emperor had moved on a grand scale with the knights. It was astonishing, and moving enough to make his chest ache, that he affected Seth that much—but it couldn’t be allowed.
And Seth wasn’t just anyone anymore. He was the Emperor of the empire.
Every move he made affected the lives of countless people. Yi-Gyeol couldn’t be the one to interfere with that. Not when his very existence only drained Seth’s life.
*Forget me.*
He whispered it in his heart. Seth would never hear it.
But still, he wished for it. That Seth would forget as much of him as he could, and return even now. He wanted to see him go back and shine as Emperor.
With great effort, Yi-Gyeol pushed himself forward again.
Then—his foot caught on a tree root.
His body lurched forward.
He barely managed to catch himself, bracing with his knees and palms. It wasn’t an embarrassing fall, but the shock made his heart pound.
His knees and palms stung. Maybe they had been scratched by the stones scattered over the rough ground, because the sting was sharp enough to seep into his body.
Tap.
Something felt… off.
It hurt too much. So why was this happening?
Plop.
He heard something fall onto the dry leaves beneath him.
Plop. Tap.
Tears.
Hot tears ran down his cheeks, hitting the dry leaves one after another with soft, broken sounds.
Through his clenched teeth, sobs kept trying to spill out. He swallowed them down once, then again.
As expected, the faint presence—previously invisible to the eye—reacted at once. It paused for a heartbeat, then ascended swiftly into the sky just before Seth could reach it.
His hand grazed empty air.
He watched, jaw clenched, as the presence deliberately turned away and soared off, refusing even to acknowledge him. Within moments, it disappeared from view beyond the narrow alleyway, its path concealed by the surrounding walls.
Bang!
Unable to contain his frustration, Seth slammed his fist into the wall. When he turned to face Renoc, who had just caught up, the man flinched, visibly unnerved by the murderous aura that came over him.
“He’s here. Somewhere close,” Seth growled.
With sudden urgency, he pivoted and charged down the alley, eyes gleaming with volatile resolve.
“Search every inch around this village. Everything, even beyond the village.”
His voice carried a sharp, almost venomous intensity, leaving Renoc with no choice but to obey.
Seth exited the alley and strode toward the checkpoint. It was only then that he realized he’d bitten down so hard on his lower lip it had started to bleed. The taste of iron pooled on his tongue.
*Joo Yi-Gyeol.*
Even just thinking the name sent a swell of emotion rushing through him.
The presence he’d sensed—it had been Yi-Gyeol. He was sure of it. No matter how faint, Seth could recognize that soul in an instant.
And yet, Yi-Gyeol had fled again. He had stayed in that shadowed alley knowing Seth would chase him if he was discovered. He’d chosen a space so narrow that once he flew beyond the walls, pursuit was nearly impossible.
That cold, calculated decision enraged Seth more than he could express.
He wiped the blood from his lip with a finger.
*Does he really not care if his body dies?*
Even this little blood on his own lip would be precious to him, yet Yi-Gyeol was fighting desperately to escape as if he meant to kill the body on purpose.
When the body dies, the soul becomes untethered—left to wander alone, until the death of its owner.
Could Yi-Gyeol survive that? Could he truly endure such isolation?
The fear of loneliness he had already experienced had been so great that he had clung to Seth, and now he was trying to endure several times longer than that. He would cry and tremble in loneliness, his mind slowly unraveling until he would rather die—and how could fragile Yi-Gyeol endure that?
No. He couldn’t allow it.
He had to stop him. Bind him to his body. Infuse him with vitality. Keep him breathing, no matter the cost. And if Yi-Gyeol’s body failed… he would simply craft a new one. A vessel strong enough to hold him. To chain him in place.
He had to find him before his body gave out.
Grinding his teeth, Seth felt an unfamiliar restlessness gnawing at him—an emotion that Yi-Gyeol alone had awakened. The last image of his pale, exhausted face melded with the memory of the spirit he had just chased.
“Your Majesty!”
Kirsty appeared, rushing forward with an update.
“I’ve confirmed that the young man who was with Yi-Gyeol before sunset stayed at the inn in this village. He arrived alone. A few minutes later, a man in fine clothing with gray cloth wrapped around him also stopped by.”
Even as she spoke, Seth’s anxiety only deepened.
“We checked their rooms, but both were empty. They must have realized we were close and fled.”
“Any signs of movement?” Seth asked sharply.
Yi-Gyeol’s soul had come to check on the situation, so he had clearly known Seth was looking for him and fled in haste. As if proving that, the tense Kirsty finally offered a reassuring answer.
“We’ve confirmed that two carriages left the rental station, each headed to a different village. Yi-Gyeol is probably in one of them.”
She seemed almost excited, hopeful they were close to catching him.
“Shall we divide and pursue both? It’s been no more than thirty minutes since they left. If we hurry, we can catch up.”
Seth didn’t answer right away.
He stood still, calculating, weighing her words in silence.
* * *
“Hah… hah…”
Gasping for breath, Yi-Gyeol finally pulled the cloth from his face. The moment the cool air hit his skin, he felt his lungs begin to clear.
Sweat clung to his brow. He wiped it away with a trembling hand and glanced over his shoulder.
Dark trees surrounded the trail. There were no torches, no signs of pursuit—only the faint shapes of trees and grass, and the chirping of insects in the silent forest night.
After catching his breath, Yi-Gyeol forced his aching body forward. His steps were so slow and heavy, they barely counted as walking. He swayed with every movement, teetering on the edge of collapse.
His body screamed in protest with each step. If only he could lie down on something soft—close his eyes and sleep, just for a while. But there was no time.
*I have to keep moving. Just a little farther…*
He had already confirmed that Seth had arrived in the village where he had meant to stay. Leaving that village with only a short lead, Yi-Gyeol had deliberately sent one carriage toward the nearest village to throw him off. After that, Diven had stopped by the carriage rental place and done the same.
He stepped out through the exit, deliberately left the easy road behind, and entered the rough forest path. Then, leaning against a tree, he fell asleep, using his spirit form to check on Diven’s actions. But Diven followed the contents of the note he had left so well that there was hardly any need to watch him.
Just as the note had said, Diven had sold the expensive shirt and trousers Yi-Gyeol left behind and used the money to send an empty carriage toward a village a little farther away, then changed into the secondhand clothes he had just bought. With his face hidden behind cloth, just as Yi-Gyeol had done, he slipped out before the checkpoint at the exit was completed, heading in the exact opposite direction from Yi-Gyeol, who had taken the forest path.
Yi-Gyeol hadn’t sent him away in a carriage because of Seth. If Seth, while checking the slave trader’s carriage, realized Diven was acting together with him, he thought Seth might accidentally harm him. That much, at least, he wanted to prevent, so he had deliberately written that Diven should also leave the village on foot.
*By now, they’ve probably checked at least one of the carriages… maybe both.*
He imagined the knights already moving after bringing everyone with them.
*He’ll be angry.*
He would be angry that Yi-Gyeol had deceived him. Maybe he would be dumbfounded that Yi-Gyeol had dared to throw him off.
Yi-Gyeol had laid a false trail with two carriages while quietly slipping away through the woods. And then he had even been caught watching the situation in soul form.
—Joo Yi-Gyeol!
The call made him flinch.
He whipped around—but there was nothing. Only the dense silhouettes of trees in the darkness.
The voice calling his name was nowhere to be heard. A faint laugh escaped him because of Seth’s voice, still vaguely echoing in his head.
He could still hear it. Seth calling his name. Reaching for him. The raw urgency in that voice—so unlike him.
*You’re really cruel, Joo Yi-Gyeol.*
He didn’t know what Seth felt or how much of it he felt, but to think that Seth would throw everything aside and come running to find him—it was truly heart-racing. If he could, he wanted to turn back even now and run to him.
But because of that, Yi-Gyeol could harden his heart even more.
*No. I can’t go back. I won’t.*
Because of him, the man called Emperor had moved on a grand scale with the knights. It was astonishing, and moving enough to make his chest ache, that he affected Seth that much—but it couldn’t be allowed.
And Seth wasn’t just anyone anymore. He was the Emperor of the empire.
Every move he made affected the lives of countless people. Yi-Gyeol couldn’t be the one to interfere with that. Not when his very existence only drained Seth’s life.
*Forget me.*
He whispered it in his heart. Seth would never hear it.
But still, he wished for it. That Seth would forget as much of him as he could, and return even now. He wanted to see him go back and shine as Emperor.
With great effort, Yi-Gyeol pushed himself forward again.
Then—his foot caught on a tree root.
His body lurched forward.
He barely managed to catch himself, bracing with his knees and palms. It wasn’t an embarrassing fall, but the shock made his heart pound.
His knees and palms stung. Maybe they had been scratched by the stones scattered over the rough ground, because the sting was sharp enough to seep into his body.
Tap.
Something felt… off.
It hurt too much. So why was this happening?
Plop.
He heard something fall onto the dry leaves beneath him.
Plop. Tap.
Tears.
Hot tears ran down his cheeks, hitting the dry leaves one after another with soft, broken sounds.
Through his clenched teeth, sobs kept trying to spill out. He swallowed them down once, then again.
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