FYH Chapter 107

Lee-Jae sat by the lakeshore, plucking the bowstring with a soft twang, twang.

She waited for the Boy King with a dark expression, but he didn’t show.

Before long, only a squirrel had come down from a tree, climbing onto her head as if inviting her to play.

Lee-Jae gently grabbed the fluffy creature that was tugging at her hair and placed it on her shoulder. Then, perhaps just to hear a voice, she spoke.

“I guess I was the charlatan all along. Right, squirrel?”

Over the past few days of deep thought, she’d finally realized why the divination had been so ambiguous.

‘The arrows fly from the western border, from the Daemon reconstruction forces. That’s where I will place my bet.’

It was true the arrows had come from the west, but that wasn’t the whole picture.

Ilias may have sided with Daemon, but when factoring in royal succession, even that wasn’t the full story.

Ask a half-baked question, and you’ll get a half-baked answer.

Formulating a precise question—that, too, was part of a shaman’s skill.

“Squirrel. They say no matter where you go, there’s always at least one strange person. Like the law of conservation of mass or something.”

When the squirrel clambered back up to her head, Lee-Jae caught it again and plopped it onto her shoulder.

Her hands moved with a casual ease that spoke of practice. The squirrel seemed to take it as part of the game.

“But you know… there should be a weirdo around here, too. And if there isn’t? Then maybe that weirdo is me. There’s always supposed to be at least one fraud in the world, but I don’t see one anywhere. So if no one else fits the part—then maybe the fraud… was me all along.”

Which is why people should live with humility.

Always ask if the fault might lie with yourself—live with that mindset.

Just as Lee-Jae finished, her unfocused eyes staring out across the lake—

—the squirrel suddenly leapt off her shoulder and scampered away.

And there he was. The Boy King appeared before her, exuding that unique, otherworldly aura of his.

Lee-Jae stared after the squirrel until it disappeared, then turned a dry look toward the King.

“Why do you always scare off the squirrel like that?”

— Isn’t talking to ghosts enough for you?

“You’re the one who showed up late. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?”

— ……

“And honestly, from a normal person’s point of view, talking to a squirrel looks a lot better than talking to empty air. You should appreciate that.”

As always, Lee-Jae responded to him politely—but not without defiance.

The Boy King clicked his tongue. She was wearing that long face again.

Almost as if she’d been waiting for this moment, Lee-Jae started venting.

“Just because someone’s family doesn’t mean they’re close. What is wrong with that Prince, seriously?”

She couldn’t quite bring herself to say, “Why did you leave behind a descendant like that?” so she phrased it more gently.

He probably picked up on the implication—but the Boy King didn’t seem offended.

— What’s wrong? Maybe he just doesn’t think the same way you and Roderick do.

“So what is he thinking, then?”

— Rather than fight a losing battle and end the royal line, he probably wants to guarantee Daemon’s independence and give up a portion of the territory. Something like that, no?

Lee-Jae knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.

But still, she couldn’t help feeling hurt and disappointed.

— And you, more than anyone, understand why humans act like that.

No one wants to side with the losing team.

No one wants to walk a thorny path.

She knew that.

But when someone you love faces that path, it’s impossible not to feel bitter.

If everyone thinks that way, then what was the point of the King who endured those three brutal years of night?

What does it say about the man who heard a prophecy of defeat and never once wavered?

For a moment, Lee-Jae murmured something that no shaman ever should.

It was the fastest way to ruin a shaman’s life.

But ever since she’d met the King—she hadn’t been able to stop.

In her past life, she had only suppressed her feelings—but now, she could no longer ignore them.

“How can you say that so easily, without even trying…”

But the Boy King let out a short, cynical laugh.

— Kang Lee-Jae. Aren’t there always people like this and people like that in the world? The Crown Prince may have thought that sacrificing some was justified to prevent greater losses.

“Are you defending him now? Spreading the love all around, are we?”

Let’s stay consistent, shall we?

“It’s your country. Doesn’t it upset you?”

“And you’re supposed to be this amazing person, right? If you fought a war for three years, you should’ve handled the aftermath better! What is this mess!”

— What?

When Lee-Jae burst out, overwhelmed with frustration, the Boy King gave an incredulous laugh.

But she didn’t stop there.

“And what about the other former kings? It’s not like they’re completely blameless. Why should he alone have to bear the consequences?”

The Melon and Russell families had turned traitor because, as their power waned, they felt insecure in their positions.

They paid the price through complete annihilation, but in the end, the consequences of that rebellion had rippled across time to affect even the Royal family itself.

Cause and effect.

Every action has consequences.

That was the terrifying nature of karma.

But the five-hundred-year-old guardian spirit didn’t respond to such emotional appeals.

He merely shrugged in indifference.

Left flustered and emotional on her own, Lee-Jae eventually lowered her gaze with a sullen look.

For a while, she scratched absentminded doodles into the dirt with the tip of her arrow.

Then she sneaked a glance at the Boy King again—because an idea had just come to her.

She set the bow down and folded her hands politely, as she always did when she was about to ask for something or had a burning question.

“Um, excuse me, but…”

The Boy King gave her a look of genuine exhaustion, while she grinned sheepishly in embarrassment.

— What now? Just skip the smile and spit it out.

“That sword you have… It’s the holy sword, right?”

Lee-Jae remembered how even drawing an inch of it from its sheath would send a flash of light bursting forth.

He nodded casually.

— Yeah.

“But that’s just a thought-form, right? Where’s the real one?”

The Boy King looked at her like she was asking something incredibly obvious.

— Probably in the royal treasury.

“Really?”

— Yeah. Noel—was he the fifth king? Or the sixth?

Lee-Jae replied confidently.

“The fifth.”

It was worth studying history with a handsome reader every night.

She now had the royal lineage practically memorized.

— Was he? Well, anyway, it’s probably been stashed away since Noel used it.

After the fifth king, no one born into the royal line could wield the sacred sword.

So it had been locked away.

But something else was bothering Lee-Jae, and her expression crinkled with discomfort.

“You calling someone from 400 years ago by name like they’re your grandkid… It’s kinda creepy.”

— That’s the curse of being eternally baby-faced, I guess.

Lee-Jae wanted to gag, but she had a favor to ask, so she flattened herself humbly instead.

“That sword… could you use it again later, if needed?”

Lee-Jae had been born not with divine power but with a strong shamanic fate.

She possessed small fragments of abilities from all five noble families.

She could perform basic summoning rituals, create wards with talismans,

and though it was her weakest area, she’d even dismantled a magical formation before.

Exorcism was where she had the most talent.

She could read faces and divine omens with a bow.

Sometimes she’d catch glimpses of other people’s futures like passing flashes of intuition.

But all her abilities were tiny slivers—barely a fingernail’s worth.

They were woefully insufficient to be truly useful in the field.

Lee-Jae knew all too well that the vengeful spirits Ilias summoned were far beyond what she could handle alone.

She wasn’t even sure if that was the full extent of her powers.

She didn’t want to burden the King any further.

Still, if there was a powerful weapon available, maybe things could go a little smoother.

Though… would a 500-year-old sword even work?

Wouldn’t that count as an ancient artifact by now?

Despite lacking a proper weapon of her own, she was more concerned about her husband.

When Lee-Jae looked at him hesitantly and asked for permission, the Boy King chuckled and nodded.

— Take whatever you want. All royal treasures belong to the reigning King anyway. If Roderick wants to use them, he can. Why are you asking me?

“Even so… Thank you, truly.”

She only wanted to get his blessing since the original owner was right there.

Ancient relics could bring misfortune if handled without respect.

Lee-Jae bowed politely.

But then the Boy King suddenly leaned in close.

Startled by the sudden proximity, she instinctively pulled her upper body back.

“Wh-What are you doing? You’re making me really uncomfortable right now.”

“Please don’t come any closer.”

“If I got too carried away today because I was upset, I apologize.”

The Boy King only smiled in amusement.

In that moment, his blue eyes sparkled—

similar to the King’s, playful and mischievous—

but with a weight, as if he were about to whisper something deeply important.

— Kang Lee-Jae… but tell me something.

“Yes?”

— Do you really think that sword is holy?

“…What do you mean?”

Unable to grasp his intent, Lee-Jae asked cautiously.

But the Boy King only gave her a cryptic smile—

and vanished without a trace.