Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 352

Chapter 352
As the small creature continued to shake uncontrollably, seemingly paralyzed by indecision, our reinforcements made their presence known.
The children moved forward and started to reason with him.
Had he been human, his face would have been streaked with tears by now.
This seemed like the ideal moment to get through to him, did it not?
Furthermore, the children were also spirit beasts.
Their words would carry far more weight with him than anything I could say.
-Tsururur. 『You have been lied to. Daddy tells us that family is about cherishing and protecting one another. To abandon someone and run away is the very opposite of what family does.
Daddy, are friends not also a kind of family? Are they not?』
“Absolutely. Friends are family you choose, no question about it.”
-Shiaa. Shii. 『She speaks the truth. That monk deceived you. I do not know the story of your meeting, but my own human friend, when we were trapped by foes, chose to give her life so that I might live rather than escape alone.
That is what a friend does. To flee and leave you behind? That is not friendship.』
Bini, who did not fully grasp the concept of a friend and equated it with family, offered her piece,
while the Golden-Crowned Snake Queen Cheongyu shared her own story about her human, Cheongyu, to make her point.
She too had been saved by her human’s sacrifice when enemies closed in.
Judging by how that monk had just abandoned the millipede, he could never be considered a true friend.
From any perspective, that monk was no friend—he had merely seen the millipede as a useful idiot.
-Kkukkuu. 『You guided the millipedes into the human village, bringing hardship, while he profited from the chaos.
You were clearly a tool for his wickedness.
Join our family, as Father suggests. We will never be false to you.』
Once Bing-i had finished, the other children joined in with supportive calls.
-Biii!
-Shaaa!
-Skaaa!
-Kkii!
Their unified cries left no doubt that they affirmed every word that had been spoken.
Amid this chorus of persuasion and support, the millipede’s trembling finally ceased, replaced by a bewildered expression.
His antennae hung low, like the ears of a sad puppy, and his body coiled inward.
It appeared the truth was dawning on him—or perhaps he was at last allowing himself to believe it.
He must have felt that something was amiss before, witnessing the males crushed one by one with each of the monk’s peculiar demands, but had refused to acknowledge it until this very moment.
-Tsururur. 『Please, come with us.』
Just as Bini repeated her invitation,
the millipede’s antennae shot upright and he directed a sharp, distressed cry at our group.
-Kyu, Kyuki! Kyukit…
Following this outburst, Bini, who had taken a position a little in front of me, conveyed a sense of alarm.
I glanced around and saw the other children also had their antennae rigid with surprise or wore stunned expressions.
“What is it? What did he say?”
After a short pause, Hyang-i translated the cry for me.
-Tsururur. 『But you are humans as well! I do not believe I can ever trust humans again…』 That is what he said, Daddy.
“Eh?”
Well, it was true that I was human, but the children were arthropods, insects, and reptiles.
His reaction was confusing—until a sudden realization hit me.
‘Of course, he is blind!’
Although our children, being spirit beasts, possess working eyes, ordinary centipedes are only capable of sensing light, not true sight.
Millipedes are no different. Even as a spirit beast, his vision was evidently underdeveloped.
Until now, he had been able to respond as if he could see us by reading the vibrations in the earth and the air.
In hindsight, it made perfect sense—the monk had been stomping through the village while shouting about the “Hyangrang Fairy Thousand-League Movement.”
He must have been sending coded signals to the millipede hidden beneath the ground.
There was no other reason for such behavior.
‘But the children are communicating solely through sound now; shouldn’t he have realized they aren’t human?’
Even though they were using vocalizations, he hadn’t yet caught on—likely too overwhelmed by the rapid flow of events.
I resolved to move closer and show him that our children were not human.
‘That wretched monk! To manipulate a child who cannot even see!’
The thought made my blood heat with fury, but I pushed the anger down and stepped forward with a calm demeanor.
“Give me a moment. I am coming closer. We are not humans.”
-Kyuki?
Hearing this, the millipede was evidently perplexed.
I advanced slowly, noticing the grass looked darkly stained under the moonlight.
It was undoubtedly from the mist he had released.
That mist was surely laced with cyanide.
I trod carefully, ensuring only my shoe soles touched the damp grass, and I held Hyang-i out toward him.
-Tsururur. 『Reach out with your antennae.』
-Kyut?
At Hyang-i’s soft urging, the millipede hesitantly extended his antennae, and the instant they made contact—his whole body jerked violently as if electrified.
Although it was merely a brief touch, the exchange of pheromones must have conveyed a profound message.
-Kyu. Kyukiiiii…
Right after, he began moving his antennae over Hyang-i’s form in a rush, expressing amazement with every new sensation.
This was likely his first encounter with another spirit beast besides himself.
I also reached out slowly and rested my hand on his head, speaking in a low, gentle tone.
“Come with us.”
Beneath my touch, the shaking of his body slowly subsided.
He carefully traced the contours of my face with his antennae, and after a moment of stillness, he finally gave a nod.
With his decision made, it was time for a name.
Keeping my hand on his head, I spoke softly.
“Your name will be Ranghyang.”
It was derived from the ancient Korean term for millipedes, Hyangrang Fairy, but I reversed the order to set him apart.
I had considered Hyangrang, but it was too similar to Hyang-i, so I switched the syllables.
-Kyuki?
He let out a questioning sound, but I understood without needing a translation.
“Yes, you need a name to answer to when you are called. Ranghyang. That is your name now.”
Hearing this, his body began to tremble once more—but this time, it was with powerful emotion.

***
For Ranghyang, the universe consisted of only two elements: light and dark.
This was the entirety of his world from the moment he first became aware of his own existence within the blackness.
When he first climbed from the chill, wet earth, a painful brightness above made his antennae sting, forcing him to retreat back underground again and again.
A great while later, he learned that when the soil grew cold, the light above vanished, and he could finally emerge onto the surface.
There, he discovered the world above the ground.
The source of the vibrations he felt below.
A realm of mystery, teeming with countless small, moving lives—this was the world above.
Thrilled by this new discovery, Ranghyang spent his days hidden in the earth and his nights wandering the surface.
But this happiness did not last.
As he journeyed through this world, Ranghyang was forced to confront a painful reality.
Every other living thing moved in groups, together, while he was always alone.
And whenever he drew near, they would scatter in terror.
As time passed, Ranghyang was consumed by a profound sense of isolation.
Everyone had another—except for him.
Then one day, after countless cycles of sleeping and waking in the cold ground, he heard something new as he rested just below the surface—not just the rumblings of the earth, but distinct, comprehensible sounds.
“Please, let me live!”
“You were instructed to pay the toll! How dare you flee? You will not escape this place alive!”
Lured by the voices, Ranghyang emerged.
When he appeared, the humans shrieked and ran.
-Kyuki?
“W-what is that thing!?”
“A-a-aagh! A m-monster!”
But one did not run. A single man remained.
“To escape bandits only to be faced with a monster. My fate is truly cursed. Ugh.”
-Kyukii?
Ranghyang tried to explain it was a mistake, that he intended no harm.
But the human could not understand him.
As Ranghyang moved closer, the human yelled,
“D-don’t approach! Stay where you are!”
At this command, Ranghyang halted and, obeying the human’s words, withdrew and waited for a long time.
Then, a wary voice spoke.
“Eh? C-could it be… you understand my words?”
-Kyuki.
“You nodded!?”
By nodding in response, they established a basic means of communication.
And so, Ranghyang became friends with the one who called himself human.
“Would you be my friend?”
-Kyuki?
“A friend is… well, it means you won’t have to be lonely anymore…”
-Kyukit!?
“Ah? You agree? Then we are friends.”
Ranghyang didn’t completely understand the meaning of ‘friend,’ but the promise of an end to his loneliness resonated so deeply that he could only nod, stunned.
That deep-seated isolation.
The vow to relieve it was impossible to resist.
At first, just as the human had promised, he was not lonely.
The human spoke with him and walked alongside him.
But after Ranghyang grew larger and other beings like him began to gather, the friend began to ask for odd things, favors that became increasingly difficult to comprehend, and his visits grew less and less frequent.
And then, today.
When that friend ran away, leaving him behind—
Ranghyang understood that everything he had been asked to do was a sin.
No, he had always known, in his heart, but had suppressed the knowledge to cling to the scant warmth he received.
The moment he fully accepted it, sinking into despair,
a warm, consoling voice—the one he had always yearned for—finally found him.
“We do not abandon our friends. Will you be our friend? Or perhaps, even better, will you join our family?”
-Kyu… Ki?
He did not know what ‘family’ meant, but it felt even more comforting than ‘friend.’
Still, he could not bring himself to agree immediately.
How could he know they were any different from the one who had just deserted him?
-Kyukit! Kyu…
That is why he cried out—
You are also humans! I do not think I can trust humans again…
He felt he had no other choice.
If he were betrayed again, it would truly destroy him.
But even after his outburst, they approached.
And they showed Ranghyang that there were others in the world like himself.
Creatures with hard shells and sensing antennae, just like him.
The moment Ranghyang understood he was not alone, that there were others of his kind in the world—
something made contact with his forehead.
Even after they became friends, the one named Taeheo had never once touched him.
But this person laid a hand upon Ranghyang’s head.
At that touch, Ranghyang’s body shuddered as if jolted by lightning.
The warmth he had been seeking his entire life was right there.
It was not the searing, painful light of the sky, but a soft, gentle heat that flowed into him from that point of contact.
And then, a voice, just as warm as the touch, spoke.
“Then we will call you Ranghyang.”
And so, Ranghyang—who entered the world in darkness and was haunted by solitude—finally found warmth.
The light was beginning to climb in the sky once more, but it no longer felt harsh.
Because that hand was there, gently shielding his antennae.

***
We set off for Mount Song immediately, hauling the monk that Cho had apprehended.
Truthfully, I wanted to pummel him to a pulp on the spot, but killing was forbidden on Mount Song, and besides, the Shaolin had requested him alive.
“Just thinking about how he exploited a blind child makes my hands ache to teach him a lesson.”
As I stared down at the scoundrel foaming at the mouth, my expression making my desire to strike plain, Kwon-ryong hyung gave a mild smile and said,
“There is no need for such regret.”
“Why do you say that?”
I cocked my head at his statement.
And then came the answer.
“Ordinarily, those who commit crimes against the Shaolin are placed in the Chamber of Repentance. A few years there, and they embrace Buddhism without exception. And this scum—a man so fond of women—being made a monk would be a fate more terrible than death, do you not agree?”
‘Wait, does that include forced castration? Perhaps that is a punishment that fits the crime.’
As I decided it was perfectly suited for him, the distant shape of Shaolin’s first gate, the Iljumun, came into view.