Chapter 128
The returned false body was almost indistinguishable from the original. A body that could barely move only by desperately sending strength throughout, breaths so labored it seemed even breathing was a burden, and a creeping sense of powerlessness.
But there was one crucial difference.
A faint scent lingered at the tip of Joo Yi-Gyeol’s nose—Sethian’s scent, something he could never perceive when he was just a soul. As if he had been held tightly in Sethian’s embrace for a long time before being let go, that lingering trace alone brought a smile to his lips.
With arms that still lacked proper strength, he struggled to push himself up into a sitting position. As he quietly took in the room around him, he noticed his heartbeat gradually accelerating.
It felt as though the lifespan he had carried in his soul was slowly melting into his body. The warmth that spread from his heart, coursing through his veins, wrapped around his entire body in a comforting embrace.
The pleasant resonance of his heartbeat reached even his mind.
He lifted a hand to his left chest, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt to look down at himself.
The red marks that had once covered his body before he had left it were now almost entirely gone. The only trace left was a faint bite mark near his left nipple.
‘It’s still here.’
His heart pounded even faster. That one spot, where Seth had sunk his teeth deep as if trying to leave an imprint on his heart, still remained. Why did that make him feel so exhilarated and happy?
He had no sense of how much time had passed.
He wanted to see Seth right away.
He placed his hands on his legs, which were only just starting to regain strength. It seemed like he could move somehow, but walking was still beyond him.
"The thing that keeps a body alive is its lifespan. The thing that transmits strength to the body and allows it to move is vitality."
That was how Roa had defined it when he had asked about lifespan and vitality.
As if to prove it, the warmth spreading from his heart caressed his entire body, but other than that, nothing seemed to change—he could do nothing but sit there powerlessly.
Still, he was happy.
"It’s unlikely, but if the lifespan of the original body settles into a created body, then it would have to be considered a perfect ‘human.’ Though it would still need to receive vitality from its connected master to move, the fact that it could live of its own volition means it could no longer be called fake."
He was no longer a false being that had to consume Sethian’s lifespan to survive. But neither was he a separate human, entirely disconnected from Sethian.
He was Joo Yi-Gyeol, a true existence, who possessed a lifespan yet did not have to sever his bond with Sethian.
Just that alone filled his chest with overwhelming emotion, making his breath feel heated.
‘I want to see him soon.’
When would he come? If he just waited here, Seth would surely come to him. He was busy, so it was best to stay put in this room…
‘No.’
He wouldn’t wait.
He had made Seth wait long enough—he had to go to him himself.
He would no longer sit still, simply waiting for Seth to come to him.
* * *
“Aagh—!”
A pained scream, all too familiar, filled the dimly lit torture chamber. The man hanging in chains was already in such a wretched state that his original form was unrecognizable.
The hot iron that had been pressing into the man's torn skin was finally lifted, and the sweating jailer wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The dried blood on his skin smudged slightly from the moisture.
Sitting by the door, calmly flipping through documents, Sethian raised his gaze and glanced at the prisoner before shifting his attention to Roa, who was sitting beside him. Roa had a white handkerchief pressed to his nose and mouth, his brows deeply furrowed in displeasure.
‘Again.’
A bitter taste filled Sethian’s mouth, and the papers in his hand suddenly felt as unpleasant as the hide of a dead animal.
He clenched the documents tightly, as if he might tear them apart, before standing up from his seat.
“There’s no need to see more. Kill him.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The two jailers standing on either side of the prisoner bowed deeply to Sethian before drawing their sharp daggers.
The bloodied man, his eyes barely able to open, trembled as he saw the blade approaching his throat. He must have known his death was imminent, yet his lips curled up into a feeble smile.
“Khugh…!”
A deep gash opened across the man's throat as the dagger cut through. Blood gurgled from his mouth, spilling onto the floor.
Sethian, watching indifferently, turned toward the door.
“From now on, start with five at a time.”
It was not the jailers who answered his command, but Roa.
"Your Majesty, if you continue torturing that many people for two hours each, sixty prisoners will die per day. The number of prisoners left is already dwindling. Are you sure you want to proceed at that rate?"
"Does that matter?"
Sethian’s gaze, when he turned to Roa, was frigid beyond measure. Roa lowered the handkerchief from his mouth and met Sethian’s cold stare.
"Of course, it matters. What will you do if, after torturing every single prisoner, the yearning still does not manifest?"
"I already told you."
A sharp glint flashed in Sethian’s eyes, the darkness within them growing even deeper.
"If no guilty men remain, then I'll create guilt where none existed."
"Your Majesty!"
Roa's pale complexion hardened as he raised his voice in protest.
"Are you truly intent on becoming a tyrant?"
Worry and unease were etched into Roa’s expression.
"Yearning does not manifest from mere pain and oppression. Whether the prisoners are truly guilty or falsely accused, it is not easy for them to develop a genuine, desperate longing. A living spirit can only come into being when there is something sincerely yearned for from deep within—"
"Then tell me this."
Sethian interrupted, stepping closer until he loomed over Roa, looking down at him coldly.
"Why, then, has my yearning not manifested?"
His ice-sharp gaze wavered slightly, as if a thin layer of frost had begun to crack.
"Can my yearning even reach Joo Yi-Gyeol?"
His lips twisted into a smirk, a scoffing mockery of the very concept of ‘yearning.’
Faced with that chilling sneer, Roa felt a crushing pressure, as if his throat might snap. Even so, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself steady and answered.
"...It will reach him."
Sethian’s deepest longing—his desperate wish—had once called Joo Yi-Gyeol to him. And, just as he had once become everything Sethian desired, surely, this time too…
Sethian placed a firm grip on Roa’s shoulder, his cold fingers digging into the fabric of his robe as if he might break him.
"For your sake, I hope you’re right—before I rewrite the laws myself."
Despite his crushing grip, Sethian’s voice sounded strangely weary. He released Roa, who staggered back, and turned toward the door.
As he stepped out of the torture chamber with Lenok, Roa could only stare after him, unable to utter a word.
‘Joo Yi-Gyeol… please, return.’ With a heavy heart, Roa repeated his silent prayer, his wrinkled eyes shutting tightly.
If only Joo Yi-Gyeol would return, perhaps this hell could finally end.
Even as he walked toward the Emerald Palace, inhaling the cold night air, Sethian first stepped into the bathhouse rather than his bedroom.
It had become a ritual—after visiting the torture chamber, he would always cleanse himself in the bath. No matter what, he refused to carry even the slightest impurity into his sanctuary.
Soaking in the steaming water, leaning against the stone wall, Sethian lowered his gaze. His sharp, blade-like eyes gradually dulled.
‘Joo Yi-Gyeol…’
Through the thick mist rising from the water, he saw something reflected in the ripples.
Though his face bore no expression, the distorted waves made his reflection appear grotesque. Sethian simply stared at it.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Even if he were to become a monster, despised and feared—so long as he could get Joo Yi-Gyeol back.
Drip. Drip.
The sound of water droplets falling from the faucet echoed clearly, breaking his thoughts.
Drip. Drip.
Like a cautious knock at the door.
Drip. Drip.
—Seth.
For a moment, he thought he had imagined it. But then, he realized—the voice had directly reached his mind.
—Seth.
At the second call, Sethian’s dull eyes gradually sharpened as he slowly lifted his gaze.
A small, radiant golden light was approaching him.
As it neared, he recognized it—a butterfly, glowing with golden brilliance.
—I’m back.
The golden figure shimmered warmly as it softly landed on Sethian’s lips, like a butterfly drawn to a flower.
But there was one crucial difference.
A faint scent lingered at the tip of Joo Yi-Gyeol’s nose—Sethian’s scent, something he could never perceive when he was just a soul. As if he had been held tightly in Sethian’s embrace for a long time before being let go, that lingering trace alone brought a smile to his lips.
With arms that still lacked proper strength, he struggled to push himself up into a sitting position. As he quietly took in the room around him, he noticed his heartbeat gradually accelerating.
It felt as though the lifespan he had carried in his soul was slowly melting into his body. The warmth that spread from his heart, coursing through his veins, wrapped around his entire body in a comforting embrace.
The pleasant resonance of his heartbeat reached even his mind.
He lifted a hand to his left chest, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt to look down at himself.
The red marks that had once covered his body before he had left it were now almost entirely gone. The only trace left was a faint bite mark near his left nipple.
‘It’s still here.’
His heart pounded even faster. That one spot, where Seth had sunk his teeth deep as if trying to leave an imprint on his heart, still remained. Why did that make him feel so exhilarated and happy?
He had no sense of how much time had passed.
He wanted to see Seth right away.
He placed his hands on his legs, which were only just starting to regain strength. It seemed like he could move somehow, but walking was still beyond him.
"The thing that keeps a body alive is its lifespan. The thing that transmits strength to the body and allows it to move is vitality."
That was how Roa had defined it when he had asked about lifespan and vitality.
As if to prove it, the warmth spreading from his heart caressed his entire body, but other than that, nothing seemed to change—he could do nothing but sit there powerlessly.
Still, he was happy.
"It’s unlikely, but if the lifespan of the original body settles into a created body, then it would have to be considered a perfect ‘human.’ Though it would still need to receive vitality from its connected master to move, the fact that it could live of its own volition means it could no longer be called fake."
He was no longer a false being that had to consume Sethian’s lifespan to survive. But neither was he a separate human, entirely disconnected from Sethian.
He was Joo Yi-Gyeol, a true existence, who possessed a lifespan yet did not have to sever his bond with Sethian.
Just that alone filled his chest with overwhelming emotion, making his breath feel heated.
‘I want to see him soon.’
When would he come? If he just waited here, Seth would surely come to him. He was busy, so it was best to stay put in this room…
‘No.’
He wouldn’t wait.
He had made Seth wait long enough—he had to go to him himself.
He would no longer sit still, simply waiting for Seth to come to him.
* * *
“Aagh—!”
A pained scream, all too familiar, filled the dimly lit torture chamber. The man hanging in chains was already in such a wretched state that his original form was unrecognizable.
The hot iron that had been pressing into the man's torn skin was finally lifted, and the sweating jailer wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The dried blood on his skin smudged slightly from the moisture.
Sitting by the door, calmly flipping through documents, Sethian raised his gaze and glanced at the prisoner before shifting his attention to Roa, who was sitting beside him. Roa had a white handkerchief pressed to his nose and mouth, his brows deeply furrowed in displeasure.
‘Again.’
A bitter taste filled Sethian’s mouth, and the papers in his hand suddenly felt as unpleasant as the hide of a dead animal.
He clenched the documents tightly, as if he might tear them apart, before standing up from his seat.
“There’s no need to see more. Kill him.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The two jailers standing on either side of the prisoner bowed deeply to Sethian before drawing their sharp daggers.
The bloodied man, his eyes barely able to open, trembled as he saw the blade approaching his throat. He must have known his death was imminent, yet his lips curled up into a feeble smile.
“Khugh…!”
A deep gash opened across the man's throat as the dagger cut through. Blood gurgled from his mouth, spilling onto the floor.
Sethian, watching indifferently, turned toward the door.
“From now on, start with five at a time.”
It was not the jailers who answered his command, but Roa.
"Your Majesty, if you continue torturing that many people for two hours each, sixty prisoners will die per day. The number of prisoners left is already dwindling. Are you sure you want to proceed at that rate?"
"Does that matter?"
Sethian’s gaze, when he turned to Roa, was frigid beyond measure. Roa lowered the handkerchief from his mouth and met Sethian’s cold stare.
"Of course, it matters. What will you do if, after torturing every single prisoner, the yearning still does not manifest?"
"I already told you."
A sharp glint flashed in Sethian’s eyes, the darkness within them growing even deeper.
"If no guilty men remain, then I'll create guilt where none existed."
"Your Majesty!"
Roa's pale complexion hardened as he raised his voice in protest.
"Are you truly intent on becoming a tyrant?"
Worry and unease were etched into Roa’s expression.
"Yearning does not manifest from mere pain and oppression. Whether the prisoners are truly guilty or falsely accused, it is not easy for them to develop a genuine, desperate longing. A living spirit can only come into being when there is something sincerely yearned for from deep within—"
"Then tell me this."
Sethian interrupted, stepping closer until he loomed over Roa, looking down at him coldly.
"Why, then, has my yearning not manifested?"
His ice-sharp gaze wavered slightly, as if a thin layer of frost had begun to crack.
"Can my yearning even reach Joo Yi-Gyeol?"
His lips twisted into a smirk, a scoffing mockery of the very concept of ‘yearning.’
Faced with that chilling sneer, Roa felt a crushing pressure, as if his throat might snap. Even so, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself steady and answered.
"...It will reach him."
Sethian’s deepest longing—his desperate wish—had once called Joo Yi-Gyeol to him. And, just as he had once become everything Sethian desired, surely, this time too…
Sethian placed a firm grip on Roa’s shoulder, his cold fingers digging into the fabric of his robe as if he might break him.
"For your sake, I hope you’re right—before I rewrite the laws myself."
Despite his crushing grip, Sethian’s voice sounded strangely weary. He released Roa, who staggered back, and turned toward the door.
As he stepped out of the torture chamber with Lenok, Roa could only stare after him, unable to utter a word.
‘Joo Yi-Gyeol… please, return.’ With a heavy heart, Roa repeated his silent prayer, his wrinkled eyes shutting tightly.
If only Joo Yi-Gyeol would return, perhaps this hell could finally end.
Even as he walked toward the Emerald Palace, inhaling the cold night air, Sethian first stepped into the bathhouse rather than his bedroom.
It had become a ritual—after visiting the torture chamber, he would always cleanse himself in the bath. No matter what, he refused to carry even the slightest impurity into his sanctuary.
Soaking in the steaming water, leaning against the stone wall, Sethian lowered his gaze. His sharp, blade-like eyes gradually dulled.
‘Joo Yi-Gyeol…’
Through the thick mist rising from the water, he saw something reflected in the ripples.
Though his face bore no expression, the distorted waves made his reflection appear grotesque. Sethian simply stared at it.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Even if he were to become a monster, despised and feared—so long as he could get Joo Yi-Gyeol back.
Drip. Drip.
The sound of water droplets falling from the faucet echoed clearly, breaking his thoughts.
Drip. Drip.
Like a cautious knock at the door.
Drip. Drip.
—Seth.
For a moment, he thought he had imagined it. But then, he realized—the voice had directly reached his mind.
—Seth.
At the second call, Sethian’s dull eyes gradually sharpened as he slowly lifted his gaze.
A small, radiant golden light was approaching him.
As it neared, he recognized it—a butterfly, glowing with golden brilliance.
—I’m back.
The golden figure shimmered warmly as it softly landed on Sethian’s lips, like a butterfly drawn to a flower.
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