Chapter 34

A sharp cracking sound tore through the air as the massive cement retaining wall split down the middle.

“See that? This is what it means to have dragon blood!”

Doyun shouted, puffing out his chest while the villagers burst into applause. Dust fell like pale ash, sifting through the cracks, but no one cared. An old woman clapped her hands, calling him the true messenger of the gods. His friends urged him to do more, their cheers blending into one frenzied roar.

Doyun basked in it—soaking up their awe like a conquering hero returning from war. Back straight, chin high, he was already the king of this little world.

Among them, only Beomjin saw the truth. And another—Shin Seoyul, standing ten meters away—watched in silence, frozen by the feverish spectacle.

Her fingertips trembled. Doyun spotted her backing away and shouted,

“Hey, Shin Seoyul!”

She flinched. The smaller she shrank, the louder his voice grew.

“You see this? You said you’re dragon-blooded too, right? Then do it! Let’s see it!”

He pounded the cracked wall with his fist again. The taunt wasn’t for Seoyul—it was for Beomjin. Doyun’s eyes flicked toward him, and Seoyul’s did too. Her pupils wavered, pleading silently for help.

“What? You gonna keep your mouth shut and run away again?”

Even at his mockery, Seoyul didn’t respond. She only hugged the book tighter against her chest and sank further back into the crowd.

The more she retreated, the crueler the voices became.

“What kind of dragon blood is that? She can’t even talk back.”

Soon the jeers outnumbered the praise.

Tap. Tap.

Loose stones rolled to Beomjin’s feet. He’d almost forgotten—swept up by the mob’s feverish energy—that the crack had widened to the size of a man’s fist. The earth behind the wall was trembling. Trees planted along the slope began to tilt.

It’s collapsing—!

Beomjin turned. Nobody else noticed—except Seoyul. But she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were fixed beyond his shoulder.

“Grandma!!”

Rrrrrrrrumble!

The retaining wall gave way, spilling tons of soil in an avalanche of dust and shattered stone. The air filled with choking grit and screams.

Panic erupted. Feet scrambled in every direction.

Through the chaos, Seoyul forced her way forward, and Beomjin cleared a path for her.

“Grandma! Grandma!”

She clawed at the dirt with her bare hands, her fingers bleeding, but she didn’t stop. Beomjin knelt beside her, helping dig until the old woman’s frail body emerged beneath the rubble.

Only then did the others realize what had happened.

“There’s someone in there!”

“Call 119! Hurry!”

“Help them!”

At Beomjin’s shout, the villagers finally rushed in.

“Seoyul…”

The old woman blinked weakly, searching.

“Grandma, I’m here!”

Seoyul clutched her hand, tears streaking her dirt-smeared face. When Beomjin moved the large stone pinning the woman’s leg, she groaned in pain.

“Ah—ahh…”

“Grandma! Your leg—!”

Seoyul’s voice broke. Her grandmother’s knee was bent grotesquely outward. The bleeding wasn’t heavy, but dark bruises were already spreading fast.

By the time they pulled her free, the paramedics had arrived. The injury was serious but not life-threatening. While they worked, Beomjin overheard the villagers’ murmurs.

“So that’s the dragon blood, huh? Can’t even lift a finger.”

“Right? Just stood there crying while her grandma got crushed.”

“She’s useless. Just wants attention, that one.”

The whispers stabbed like needles. Beomjin looked down.

Seoyul’s lips were pressed tight. She didn’t blink. Her eyes were empty, her breathing shallow. It was as if all the noise around her had faded away—like she’d sunk deep underwater, cut off from the world.

“Seoyul. It’s okay.”

Beomjin tried to calm her, but she only kept her head bowed.

Then Doyun stepped forward through the crowd. Under the gaze of every villager, he lowered his head.

“Sorry,” he said. “Guess I couldn’t control my strength.”

It wasn’t clear who he was apologizing to. He glanced at Seoyul, then added quietly:

“…Didn’t think you’d be that helpless, Shin Seoyul.”

That wasn’t an apology—it was a dagger wrapped in pity.

“It’s not your fault, son,” one man said, clapping his shoulder. “That wall was old anyway.”

“Yeah, better it fell now. You did the village a favor!” another added, breath reeking of alcohol.

Doyun smiled bashfully as the tension melted into easy laughter.

And then—amid the fading noise—Seoyul whispered.

“Why is it always me?”

Her voice was small, almost inaudible, but it sliced through the crowd’s laughter like glass.

“I didn’t do anything wrong…”

The adults’ gazes turned sharp, cutting through Seoyul’s trembling voice.

“That’s exactly the problem. If you really had dragon blood, you should’ve stopped it before anyone got hurt.”

“Yeah. She keeps saying she’s got power, but look—she didn’t do a thing.”

Seoyul’s pupils wavered.

“Her own grandmother got hurt, and all she does is whine about fairness.”

The words pierced her like blades. She bit her lip until it bled, face paling before the color returned in a trembling flush.

“Enough.”

Beomjin couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Why are you blaming her for this? Anyone can see—”

“So, it’s all my fault then?”

Her voice came out cold and hard, slicing through the noise.

Beomjin felt the air change. A chilling pressure crept over him—like stepping into a freezer. The hair on his arms stood upright.

Pop!

The phone of the man in front of him exploded in his hand. Then another. And another—sparks bursting one after another, filling the air with acrid smoke.

People screamed, dropping their overheated phones. Silence fell—followed by dozens of eyes turning toward Seoyul.

“She… she did it again.”

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

“It was real…”

“Then that time too—”

Panic spread. The crowd edged backward, even Doyun among them.

Seoyul’s once-still hair began to lift strand by strand. A faint crackle filled the air. Beomjin felt a sting along his ears and nose, and the old wound on his thigh flared as though burned.

Sensing danger, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Seoyul!”

Cold poured from her skin—so cold it bit into his bones. Her fingers trembled violently, her eyes unfocused and distant.

The air pressed down, heavy as stone. Pebbles on the ground quivered as if an earthquake were brewing beneath them. Her breath came uneven and shallow, her body swaying limply in his grip.

“Stop—please stop!”

Crack! Blue static burst from Beomjin’s hand where it touched her shoulder.

“Ah—!”

The shock forced him to pull away. Seeing the flash, the villagers gasped and stumbled back.

“Monster!” someone screamed.

Snap! Another spark flared.

“Seoyul! Wake up!”

With no other choice, Beomjin struck her lightly in the stomach. She let out a faint gasp and collapsed into his arms.

The pressure broke.

The air cleared.

The trembling earth stilled.

The people, once frozen in fear, exhaled shakily. They whispered, avoided each other’s eyes, and quietly drifted away.

But Beomjin felt it—the hostility behind their silence. It wasn’t just fear. It was rejection—born of superstition, cowardice, and the selfish instinct to exile what they didn’t understand.

Seoyul didn’t wake until evening.

“Where’s Grandma?”

That was the first thing she said.

“She’s resting at a nearby hospital,” Beomjin answered. “Don’t worry. She’s going to be fine.”

She sat up, then sank back down again. Her eyes darted anxiously, betraying the unease she couldn’t hide.

Crash!

Glass shattered. A rock flew through the kitchen window. Startled, Seoyul cried out and clung to Beomjin.

“Wh-what was that?”

She trembled like a frightened child.

Beomjin didn’t answer right away. It wasn’t the first one. For a while now, stones, potatoes, even pieces of wood had been striking the walls.

“Monster!”

“Get out of our village!”

Voices rose outside, followed by quick, retreating footsteps.

Beomjin didn’t chase them. He just stayed by Seoyul’s side, silent, waiting for her to wake. The truth was clear now—the village had decided to cast her out.

Then came a thunderous pounding on the door.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Open up!” shouted Lee Geonjung.

“Is anyone in there!? We know you’re inside!”

They came.

But this fast?

Beomjin steadied himself as Shin Seoyul trailed behind him like a shadow. Acting as her shield, he opened the door.

The yard was crowded. Nearly the entire village had gathered—Lee Geonjung, Eunjung, Doyun—all standing in a semicircle under the flicker of flashlights and phone beams. When they saw Seoyul hiding behind Beomjin, murmurs rippled through the group.

“Chief Lee, what’s the meaning of this at this hour?”

Beomjin’s voice carried a thin edge of hostility as he faced them. The wavering lights made their faces look warped—like zealots ready for a witch hunt.

“Apologies for the late visit,” Geonjung began, “but there’s something we must discuss.”

“With this many people? What are you planning—a war?”

The villagers avoided his eyes but didn’t move an inch.

“There was an emergency village meeting just now,” Geonjung continued. “Many are worried for the safety of our home. I hope you understand.”

Beomjin already knew what was coming. And Doyun proved it with a shout.

“You’re not dragon-blooded! Get out of our village!”

Even Doyun’s confident face was tight with fear.

“Stop!” Geonjung hissed, but the crowd joined in, their fear feeding off one another.

“Yeah, get out, monster!”

“Fake dragon! Leave our home!”

Geonjung tried to calm them, but it took several tense minutes before their shouting died down. Then he spoke again, measured but firm.

“We’re here to maintain order. You saw what happened, Agent Baek. She’s dangerous. Maybe you don’t know, but this isn’t the first time. We couldn’t be sure before—but now everyone knows.”

“So you throw stones through her window? Scream insults? March here in the middle of the night?”

“I admit it went too far,” Geonjung said, his voice lowering. “But I hope you can understand our fear.”

He glanced sideways at Seoyul.

“Why… why is it always me?”

For the first time, Seoyul stepped out from behind Beomjin. Tears welled in her wide eyes.

Her voice cracked as she looked from face to face—Geonjung, Doyun, neighbors she’d grown up with.

“What did I ever do wrong? When did I ever say I wanted to be the dragon’s heir? Why are you doing this to me?!”

Crackle!

Lightning flashed across her eyes. The earth at her feet sparked—then exploded outward.

“Look out!”

The crowd scattered in panic, shrieking.

“Do something!”

Eunjung and others clung to Doyun’s arm, urging him forward. Fueled by their shouts, Doyun clenched his trembling fists and stepped ahead.

“No! Don’t provoke her!” Beomjin tried to move, but villagers grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Let Doyun handle it! He can stop her!”

Taking a deep breath, Doyun charged. He struck Seoyul square in the face.

Thud! Her head snapped to the side—but she didn’t fall. Instead, she grabbed him by the collar.

“You… because of you…”

Her hair rose like flames, dust swirling violently around her. Pale skin shimmered as scales rippled beneath the surface. Her eyes turned storm-gray, her nails lengthening into talons that sank into Doyun’s throat.

“AAAHHHHHH!”

She screamed like a wild beast, slamming him to the ground. Blood welled where her claws dug in.

“Stop! She’s going to kill him!”

Beomjin tore free from the villagers and lunged. He wrapped his arms around Seoyul, dragging her off Doyun as they tumbled to the dirt.

“Seoyul! Wake up!”

But it was too late. The girl before him wasn’t human anymore—only rage and instinct remained.

All Beomjin could do now was stop her.