NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 841
Ashtosh Singh speaks.
“Come here.
Come to the stage I’ve created.
A space filled with flames and debris.
Come to this place brightly lit by the fire brought from the Temple of the goddess Vesta.
Though the temple is destroyed and not a single foundation stone remains, it has become firewood to burn the flames and a symbol to offer to the goddess.
The pure girl priestess lies asleep, awaiting her hero.
Come, oh shaman.
Come here.
‘Is this the doing of Ashtosh Singh?’
Park Jinseong gazed at Anastasia, who lay sleeping atop a bamboo altar.
He briefly questioned whether it was Ashtosh Singh who had cast a curse upon her or perhaps harmed Anastasia using a method akin to Soul Burn, capable of igniting souls or minds.
‘No. There are no such traces, nor any evil intent.’
Yet that doubt was fleeting.
Park Jinseong was certain that he had not made this.
Although he couldn’t say it was 100% guaranteed.
His long-accumulated experience, his spirit that had surpassed the realm of countless rituals spoke to him.
This was not born of malice toward Anastasia.
‘But that does not mean Ashtosh Singh is completely unrelated.’
If he were not connected at all, how could such thoughts spill forth?
How could they send such an invitation through Anastasia?
Ashtosh Singh could project power or thoughts through Anastasia.
In other words, it meant that Anastasia lay within his influence.
Indeed.
This is an invitation.
Not a polite one.
Close to a threat.
Yet still, one that dares to call itself an ‘invitation.’
“Is my sister alright…?”
Ella came beside Park Jinseong and asked.
Her face, though they hadn’t known each other long, was filled with concern for a girl who had already entered the category of ‘family,’ infused with affection akin to that she would show to her mentor.
Park Jinseong found that familiar.
It resembled the expressions of those who sought his guidance, or who inquired about solutions to challenging matters.
So, like how he would respond to those asking for divination, he said,
“Of course.”
What could he say to someone worried about family?
To say everything was fine, that even if there were problems, everything would soon be okay.
Was there anything else he could do but reassure them?
Just as he would to those fearful of their family’s misfortunes.
Or those who dreaded the death that might come to them or their comrades.
Such words were all he could manage.
However, Park Jinseong refrained from saying, ‘I will save Anastasia.’
The pure white girl, like a princess hoping for a prince to come rescue her, or a sacrifice ready to be offered to a god, merely lay there with eyes closed, exhaling softly.
Yet that very presence made Park Jinseong feel as though she was pleading for him to come save her.
A girl as pitiful as a flower.
With her innocence reminiscent of an unbloomed lily, she seemed to desire to blossom but could not; she called to him with her frailness.
Without exuding a fragrance, but with the potential contained within her, and with a softness that could fall at any moment, she beckoned to Park Jinseong.
But Park Jinseong understands.
He knows the future of that seemingly pitiful girl.
Hadn’t he spent a long time with ‘Danbi’?
He knows well that Anastasia would not plead for him to ‘save her.’
Even on the brink of losing her life on the battlefield, she did not seek salvation.
Was it because she didn’t believe in rescue?
Or was it because her very existence in this world was the ‘salvation’ she had received?
‘Because she understood the weight of salvation.’
She had been born by devouring her own sibling to enter this world…
Having witnessed that process with her own eyes, she was made to carry that sin.
Though she hadn’t sought it, she was made to be born with original sin.
For Anastasia, that was both salvation and an exceptionally cruel tale.
In a paradise devoid of substance, there had been no original sin whatsoever.
While her soul remained pure and innocent, slightly restrained in its freedom.
Yet she had been thrust into this world against her will with original sin.
By a shaman who wished for a hero.
A twisted mind of a shaman who tried to summon a hero from a useless sacrifice to make the world better—through a sacrifice of blood, she was forced into that place.
Perhaps it was inevitable that before her return, Anastasia would have vanished while exploring the collective unconscious.
What Park Jinseong desired dwelled within that unconscious, and as her power was tied to dreams and the collective unconscious, if she wished to grow strong, it was only natural she would plunge into it….
‘Hometown.’
And the collective unconscious was also her hometown.
Isn’t it a living being’s nature to want to return home?
Desiring to return to where one was born is a sentiment shared by all living things.
Even if they cannot do so in life, they still long to do it in death, moving toward the sea and land.
It might be that before her return, Anastasia was trying to go back to her hometown.
Trapped within Ella, but her spirit was free back in that era.
Longing for the pure and innocent soul she had before being born with the original sin from devouring her sibling, unable to bear the nostalgia any longer that made her finally set foot back there…
But now, unlike before her return, the original sin bestowed upon her has vanished, and she embraced a warm spring instead of the biting, cold winter.
Not a spring born from the sacrifices of winter, but a spring that coexists with winter.
It was a season that could only exist as a pair, not a solitary existence, and unlike a past where she was forced to wander alone, now she could create a dwelling and emanate fresh colors with joy.
If winter was a slumber, then spring is awakening from that slumber.
The time had come for someone who had just awoken from a long sleep to stretch and seek growth.
“What are you doing sleeping so soundly?”
Park Jinseong murmured as he gazed at Anastasia’s face and sat down on the floor.
His back naturally leaned against the bamboo altar, his head tilting back slightly to touch Anastasia’s body. The back of his head rested against her abdomen, and Anastasia’s neatly gathered hands brushed against the top of his head.
In a posture that seemed affectionate, like that of well-matched siblings or lovers, Park Jinseong slowly closed his eyes and sent thoughts through Anastasia.
“Even when spring concludes and summer arrives, my footsteps shall not falter.”
“In accordance with your wishes, I shall gladly throw myself into the heat.”
It was a response with a poetic feel.
To anyone observing, it appeared as though he was accepting the invitation.
After sending these thoughts, Park Jinseong opened his eyes once more and rose from his spot.
“Lady Ella. Please stay by my side here. Though I suppose there shouldn’t be any issues, wouldn’t it make a huge difference to wake up to family rather than finding no one around? Please ensure Asha feels secure when she awakens.”
“…Yes.”
Park Jinseong gently smiled and said this to Ella.
“And Iarin. You too should remain here. How reassuring will it be for her to have a friend by her side when she wakes up? Furthermore, I will need your help turning away those who may come out of work or curiosity, so you should watch over Asha here too.”
“Okay. Got it. But….”
Iarin nodded at Park Jinseong’s words, then looked directly at him and said.
“…Brother, come back safely.”
“Haha, don’t worry.”
Park Jinseong broke into a hearty laugh at Iarin’s concern.
He spoke as if there were no need for worry.
Thus, having calmed the two, he turned his back toward the exit.
* * *
The old apartment stairs continue without end.
Like a space from a Liminal Space urban legend.
Though the numbers may change, the appearance of each floor does not.
Human traces remain here and there, but they’re merely tiny remnants.
Neither the outside view nor the internal structure changes at all.
A broken elevator.
Two pairs of iron doors facing each other on either side.
An old, battered key that would allow entry through those doors to take a break.
Anastasia was continuously climbing the stairs in this endless dream space.
However, something had changed since she first entered the apartment; something was climbing the stairs alongside her.
It resembled contemporary art, especially a video art piece.
Twisted pipes and wood formed a humanoid shape, with a plump monitor placed where a head should be.
If one were to think that it resembled a pictogram due to its crudely constructed stick figure form… if the girl were to name this piece, it would be something like ‘Phono Sapiens’ or ‘Pictogram Human.’
If it were simply an art piece.
What climbed the stairs beside Anastasia was not a cryptid she had created or any element of this dream.
Though born from those elements, what resided within was an existence unrelated to this dream.
The shaman, Ashtosh Singh.
He was climbing the stairs alongside Anastasia.