The mist clouds concealing the spiritual veins of the forbidden ground (禁地) resembled the shape of a winding dragon.
The sound of waterfalls echoed from every direction at a pleasant volume.
<Haeta>’s main mountain.
Standing here before Haetae Gate of the Daeyeongjeon at its heart brought to mind a certain gatekeeper who had absolutely refused to yield beneath the pouring rain.
「You really are stubborn, Choi Yacha.」
「……Did I…… do good?」
「What’s a friend’s friend?」
「Another…… friend……! I’m sorry, ngh, I’m sorryyyy……!」
「It’s fine. With this, the debt from when we were kids is paid in full.」
“I thought I’d paid it all back then.”
“…….”
“How long am I supposed to keep living in debt to that idiot?”
Jioh let out a hollow laugh.
“Hm? Answer me, Hayan-sae.”
“…….”
When she turned around, a woman even quieter than this tranquil shrine of the divine beast was looking at her.
The hem of her durumagi, caught in the late predawn light, was pure white.
The garments of the Grand Clan Head who presided over every ritual offered to the divine beast…