Chapter 59 : It Was Raining

Thankfully, the men drawn by the pillar of light never caught up with us.

Our pace was swift, and the mountain terrain far too rugged for most to follow.

Truly, if one wanted to hide away from the world, this was the perfect place.

But then, an unexpected problem arose…

[It’s raining.]

Shhhhhh—

Rain began to fall out of nowhere.

At first, just a drizzle that dampened the shoulders. Then suddenly, a downpour.

The sun was up, yet the world was gray and heavy, as rainy days always were.

We huddled beneath a broad tree, taking shelter.

Shushruta wrung water from her soaked hair beside me while I leaned against the trunk, staring out at the forest drowning in rain.

Shhhhhh—

The rain fell in sheets across the woods.

Plip, plop.

The drops drummed on leaves, but to me, the sound was far from comforting.

People often say they love rainy days.

Why?

They give all sorts of answers.

Because the sound of rain is soothing. Because it calms the heart and stirs the emotions.

And I say—bullshit.

That’s only when you’re safe and dry.

Those who claim to love the rain are, in my eyes, the well-fed and spoiled.

Most of them nobles or rich brats who watch the rain from grand houses where nothing leaks, sipping warm tea and eating fine food.

But if you’ve ever shivered in the open with no shelter, if you’ve walked through the rain and fallen sick, if you’ve watched your food stores rot from damp and gone hungry—

That romantic talk about loving the rain dries up fast.

For people like me, when the rain pours, all that comes out is: “Damn it, today’s wasted.”

Days of tracking a beast—its prints and scent—washed away in an instant.

And fighting in the rain?

Infuriating.

Sure, the blood washes off by itself, but only if you survive the fight first.

Clothes grow heavy, each swing of the sword drains twice the strength.

Vision blurs, hearing dulls beneath the roar of water.

In short—it’s hell.

The only consolation is that the enemy suffers just as much.

Shhhhhh—

But beyond all that, I simply disliked rainy days.

Why? Even I wasn’t sure.

Was it because of childhood memories, shivering in the back alleys, soaked to the bone?

Or because I had been betrayed, too many times, on days like these?

Or because he died in the rain?

Or maybe… simply because it was wet and miserable.

Whatever the reason, the rain always dragged my mood down.

My head felt heavy, my chest unsettled.

Mist began to coil through the forest.

Our sight was cut off.

Shhhhhh—

The thunder of rain filled every corner.

Our hearing dulled.

All scents faded—only earth, wet grass, and the sharp tang of rain remained.

Ah. That last scent of grass—it was her.

I asked, watching the storm, “Can you hear clearly?”

Shushruta, still wringing her hair, shook her head.

“Not at all. Only within this range.”

So it was.

I tilted my head up to the rain-heavy sky.

I’d hoped it would ease enough for us to move on, but there was no sign of that.

“You were writing something earlier.”

She paused, glancing at me.

“Ophosis’s tomb. Do you know its location?”

She nodded.

“I’ve narrowed it down. Northwest of here.”

“Then why not go straight there?”

“For now, I know only the direction. The tomb is likely well-hidden. If you think holding only this dagger will solve everything, abandon that thought.”

“Mm.”

“We need to find the hidden entrance. And learn how to enter it. And what awaits within. At times like this, every scrap of information is precious. Better to gather what we can.”

I nodded.

Her words made sense.

I had only been asking casually anyway.

We’d come too far to go charging in blind. Not to mention, heading down now would be running straight into the pursuers who saw the light.

I glanced up at the sky.

“…Doesn’t look like it’s stopping.”

Shushruta rose.

“No helping it.”

I stood with her.

“Let’s go.”

We set out into the rain, toward a village called Riolegro nestled on the mountain’s side.

Shhhhhh—

Through the sheets of rain, we arrived at the village entrance.

I’d expected only a handful of homes in such rugged terrain, but there were more than I thought.

Two or three dozen houses at least.

The timber structures looked sturdy enough.

No one was outside.

Understandable—on such a day, everyone stayed indoors, shutters closed tight against the rain.

Perfectly ordinary.

Who would wander about in this weather?

Only a madman.

“There’s supposed to be a descendant of Geonseo here?”

“Yes.”

Shushruta tied her rain-darkened hair back.

“Name?”

“Gregory.”

“Age?”

“Estimated thirty-six.”

“Anything distinctive?”

“Dark-skinned, short—around one hundred sixty centimeters. Thick lips. Broad-shouldered, like his ancestor.”

“Got it. Let’s go.”

We slogged into the village, mud sucking at our boots.

But as we entered, Shushruta suddenly raised her hand, her face tense.

“Wait.”

“What is it?”

I pushed my dripping hair back, frowning.

She scanned the village, eyes sharp.

“…Too quiet.”

I took another look at myself.

The silence wasn’t just the rain.

It felt wrong.

Hard to explain, but the atmosphere was off.

No matter how heavy the rain, there should be some sign of life.

Yet the houses, shutters sealed tight, only watched us.

A shiver crawled up my spine.

Then, faintly, it reached my nose.

The scent of blood.

Damp and heavy, hidden beneath the smell of rain.

I spread my senses wide at once.

“…”

Shrring—

I drew my sword, sending a wave of killing intent through the rain.

Slash!

Scarlet energy tore through the downpour, striking the nearest houses.

BOOOM!

The soaked wooden homes shattered, and with them the ambushers hiding inside, behind, and even on the rooftops burst forth like startled locusts.

“Well, well. Guess we’ve been found out.”

One man, standing atop the largest house, grinned as he hefted his weapon.

At his lead, more emerged—some from rooftops, others strolling casually out of their false refuges.

They fanned out, forming a U-shape around us.

Several of them smirked at me.

“This one’s sharp.”

“No wonder he’s survived this long.”

“Well, all the better for us. Came crawling right to where we were waiting.”

“Heheheh.”

“Good thing we didn’t rush to kill him when that pillar went up. Patience pays.”

“They say he’s the Red-Eyed Devil. Looks like the rumors were true.”

“I want those red eyes. Would look fine mounted on my wall.”

“Devil? If he’s a devil, then I’m a devil king.”

“Hah! Hahaha!”

“And the woman? Looks tasty.”

“Oh, she’s mine.”

“Touch her and you die.”

They cackled among themselves, no longer bothering to hide their bloodlust.

It crackled in the air, making my skin prickle.

The stench of blood on them was so foul I thought my nose would rot away.

Their laughter drummed in my ears, heavy and dull.

A metallic taste filled my mouth.

Shushruta scanned them quickly, whispering, “Ashuban. These aren’t ordinary foes.”

“When have we ever fought ordinary foes?”

I glanced around at the mob.

At a glance, there were easily more than twenty.

Their faces were varied, their weapons more so—daggers, axes, spears, bows.

A mess.

Call it a rabble, or generously, a coalition of killers with nothing in common but malice.

But as Shushruta said, none were ordinary.

At the very least, each was a mana user. And among them, I spotted more than a few aura users.

What were they?

Drunken butchers. Infamous criminals. Ruthless bounty hunters.

Not men drawn here by the light—those couldn’t have arrived so fast.

No, these had been waiting.

Who gathered them, why, when—none of it mattered.

All that mattered was killing them.

I noticed how simple my thoughts had become.

I’d felt this before. This single-minded blood-haze.

I looked up at the man who had spoken first.

He wore beast pelts and held a massive hammer.

“And the villagers?” I asked.

He grinned.

“Dead.”

For a moment, I wanted nothing more than to rip his mouth apart.

“I see.”

I nodded slowly, closing my eyes.

Deep within my chest, images flickered.

A dark back alley. Rain pouring down.

A shivering boy glared up at me through the downpour, eyes blazing red with rage.

Those eyes said, Kill every last one of those bastards.

Then another vision.

A barren plain, desolate beneath the rain.

A man stood among corpses, nudging one with his boot as he smirked at me.

What does it matter? his shrug seemed to say.

Shushruta’s urgent hand shook my shoulder, pulling me back.

“Ashuban. They’re too many. Not just in number—their names are steeped in blood. We must retreat—”

Smack.

I slapped her hand away.

“Shut up. Get lost.”

Her eyes widened, staring at me.

I didn’t know what expression I wore myself.

I rubbed my eyes with my free hand and muttered,

“Sorry. I’m in a bad mood. Because it’s raining. Because it won’t stop pouring.”

“…”

“Stay back. Don’t get caught up in this.”

Truth be told, my head felt like it was splitting.

I wished she’d just leave without arguing.

“…Very well.”

Tap—

She vanished from my side.

I reached for my sword—only to realize it was already in my hand.

“…Huh. When did I draw this?”

I raised the blade, pointing it at the pack of killers.

Would cutting them down ease this filth in my chest?

“Come.”

They laughed and charged.

Shhhhhh—

It was raining.

(End of Chapter)

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