Obsession of the Neglected 6-Star Heroes-Chapter 36
Virtue
Virtue is what one human bestows upon another.
As the faint light of dawn broke over the kingdom’s mountains, a man and a woman ascended the snowy path toward the summit.
Their hair—one as white as snow, the other a deep ink-black—danced in the biting wind. Together, the two made their way through the field of snow, step by step, leaving their distinct footprints behind. The woman’s dainty, delicate steps and the man’s heavier, surefooted strides carved a pattern into the snow as they climbed.
“A... Achoo!”
The woman sneezed, her nine tails coiled tightly around her body like a makeshift blanket. With every step she took, her form trembled as if she were barely keeping herself upright.
Keyal’s gaze shifted toward the fox spirit cloaked in snowy white fur, her breath visible in the icy air. He stole a glance at her now and then, unable to keep his concern from surfacing.
Just last night, this fox spirit, newly acquainted with him, had insisted on following him despite her weakened condition. Her determination had left him both puzzled and uneasy.
“Are you okay, Seria?” he asked softly, his voice carrying both hesitation and concern.
“Hehe, I’m fine,” she replied with a sheepish smile, her trembling lips pulling into a faint curve.
Her cheerful facade failed to convince Keyal. The stark cold had turned her pale cheeks a rosy red, an image that gnawed at his heart.
Her attire, which resembled ceremonial robes adorned with golden patterns, did little to shield her from the frigid morning air. Though the sun began to rise, the chill of dawn refused to dissipate.
“Sigh...”
Keyal exhaled, his breath forming a fleeting cloud in the cold. His gaze sharpened, focused.
“If you’re struggling, just say so. I can carry you if necessary.”
The fox spirit gave no response but continued to shiver as they pressed forward.
I should’ve just said I was cold...
Keyal pushed his regret aside, stepping forward again.
***
The vast and serene domain of the Imoogi—a creature that had reigned for a millennium, weaving the threads of fate—lay undisturbed.
Byakhyang, the ancient Imoogi, sat cross-legged, a teacup in hand, her expression calm yet burdened. Recently, a troubling realization had crept into her thoughts: the once steady flow of destiny she had meticulously cultivated for a thousand years was now in disarray.
And the cause? A single, vexing fox. No, to be precise, the nine-tailed Yohō.
Byakhyang unconsciously furrowed her brow. Even though Yohō, like her, was born with spiritual powers, how could any being—even one of divine origins—distort the prophecies crafted by a thousand-year-old Imoogi? Such a feat was nearly unthinkable.
“Haah… The world truly is falling apart. The end times are upon us,” she muttered with a sigh, the weight of her frustration heavy in her voice.
As usual, she waited for the inevitable visit of a certain half-demon youth and a princess from the kingdom. Alone in her solitude, Byakhyang sipped her tea, her version of a brief respite from the world’s chaos.
“Grandmother, we’re here!”
The voice, unmistakable and annoyingly familiar, echoed through her sanctuary.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! The world’s truly gone to hell… utterly, irreversibly to hell!” she exclaimed, almost dropping her teacup.
She turned her gaze toward the direction of the voice, and there he was: Keyal Klein, the self-proclaimed flower boy of the century. His teasing grin was as aggravating as always, and he waved at her as if she were an old friend rather than a millennia-old spiritual being.
“Why are you here so early?” she muttered under her breath, a storm of curses building in her mind. Externally, however, she managed to maintain a veneer of composure.
Keyal, of course, noticed her displeasure. Always quick to read the room, he paused just a few steps from her, tilting his head in exaggerated politeness.
“Lady Byakhyang,” he began.
“...Speak,” she replied curtly.
“The stunning and elegant Keyal you so adore has arrived!”
“…What?”
Byakhyang blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. Her confusion manifested in the form of a hundred imaginary question marks hovering above her head.
What kind of nonsense was this? The absurdity was almost enough to make her feel like a character in one of those ridiculous tales humans told around campfires.
“This… this insane—”
The string of curses she’d been suppressing nearly burst forth, but Keyal, ever the interrupter, cut her off again.
“Ah, ah! Let’s keep things civil, Lady Byakhyang,” he said, holding up a finger as if scolding a child.
Her frustration reached new heights. For all her centuries of wisdom and composure, she found herself utterly defeated by this brat.
A thousand years of experience, and here she was, being toyed with by a boy who hadn’t even lived a few centuries. The irony wasn’t lost on her, and even she couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at her predicament.
“Sigh… Fine, enough with your nonsense,” she said, tapping the table with her finger.
Her gesture was clear: get to the point. She expected him to request another prophecy or to ask her to divine the future once again.
“Oh, right. We’re here on business,” Keyal said, his expression suddenly turning serious.
“Then speak quickly,” she snapped, eager to end the conversation.
Keyal’s grin widened as he leaned in slightly, his playful demeanor returning. Byakhyang couldn’t help but swallow nervously, unsure of what ridiculous thing he might say next.
After a moment of silence, Keyal finally spoke. “You don’t need to look into the future for us anymore. Thank you for everything so far.”
“...What?”
Her teacup froze mid-air. The casual, almost dismissive tone of his words left her momentarily stunned.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, her voice sharp and incredulous.
“Yes,” Keyal replied simply.
“And what about Yohō?!”
Byakhyang’s voice rose with frustration. How could he casually announce his departure when the fox spirit, the very source of her recent troubles, was still unaccounted for?
Keyal tilted his head as if he didn’t understand her confusion.
Behind him, the air shimmered, and there she was—Yohō. Her snow-white fur glistened in the dim light, her mesmerizing eyes glowing with an ethereal beauty. Her nine tails swayed lazily behind her, a testament to her divine and mythical nature.
“I brought her,” Keyal said, gesturing toward the fox spirit.
Byakhyang’s breath caught. There was no mistaking it: Yohō was a Kumiho, a legendary being whose power far surpassed ordinary spiritual creatures.
“How… how did you manage this?” Byakhyang asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Keyal grinned, his usual confidence radiating through his words. “Oh, it wasn’t too hard. She’s not as bad as you think.”
Byakhyang stared at him in disbelief. “You’re saying… you’re comrades with that thing?”
“An old comrade,” Keyal corrected, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
The absurdity of his statement left Byakhyang speechless. She could only sigh deeply, shaking her head in resignation.
“Well… as long as it’s resolved, I suppose that’s all that matters,” she muttered, though her tone carried a lingering bitterness.
“Are you leaving the kingdom, then?” she asked after a pause.
“Once Reina’s situation is taken care of, yes,” Keyal replied.
Byakhyang’s expression softened, though her voice retained its usual edge. “You’ll come back, won’t you?”
Keyal smiled. “Of course. I’ll visit often.”
“Next time, bring food,” Byakhyang said with a faint smirk.
“Got it. I’ll clean out an entire market for you,” Keyal replied, grinning as he turned to leave.
As the two figures disappeared into the distance, Byakhyang sat alone once more, her teacup in hand.
This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.
With a faint sigh, she began tracing the threads of fate again, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Fortune… and misfortune…”
