There’s an old saying.
Those who meet must part; those who leave will surely return.
Every meeting ends in a farewell, and everyone who leaves will one day come back.
That old proverb came to mind as I stared wide-eyed at two figures approaching from far away, picking their way through the monsters strewn across the ground in the surrounding darkness.
“Over here! We’re over here!”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to shout like that…? Never mind. Do whatever the hell you want.”
“Yes! Thank you!”
“This is driving me insane.”
The young man bounced along as if he had springs in the soles of his feet, while the boy beside him sighed like an old man. To some people, they might have made a strange sight.
But I—or, rather, a tiny handful of people including me—already knew who they were.
Especially the young man bouncing along in front. You could meet him only once and never forget his energy.
“…Cheongpung?”
The name slipped from my lips before I knew it. The people who’d been frozen in a daze since the monsters’ bizarre collapse blinked.
“Cheongpung? Could it be…”
“T-the Huashan Divine Dragon?”
Their reaction was immediate.
There was only one Cheongpung I knew well enough to recognize at a glance who might turn up in a situation like this. You could turn the whole world upside down and shake it out without finding another.
Of course, someone raised a reasonable question.
“I can’t see that far. Captain, are you sure you’re not mistaken? Why would Cheongpung suddenly show up here…”
Hyuk Mujin had barely begun speaking in an uncharacteristically cautious tone when a clear voice rang out from beyond the darkness.
“Benefactooor!”
“…That’s him.”
“…It is.”
“…Just hearing him makes my head spin. It’s definitely him.”
At this point, that voice was practically a fingerprint.
Hyuk Mujin and I confirmed it, and then Jeok Cheongang put the matter to rest.
“Benefactor! I’m here!”
With that final shout, Cheongpung swept in like a gust of wind and waved at me, his face flushed.
“Wow, it’s been so long! Have you been doing well?”
How was I supposed to respond to that?
I stared at the first-time-experience menace before me, half bewildered and half glad to see him. After a moment, I finally managed to speak.
“No. Not at all.”
“Oh. You do look that way, actually.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“I haven’t been doing well, you see. But I hoped things might be different for you. Hee-hee.”
Cheongpung said something gloomy as cheerfully as ever. Watching him, I realized how to respond.
Or rather, a quiet laugh escaped me before I could help it.
“Wait, why are you laughing?”
“You call that a question? He’s laughing because the way you act is ridiculous, you little punk.”
That wasn’t my answer.
Swish.
A boy appeared from the darkness, his presence as faint as a ghost’s—or rather, the greatest assassin of all time. He stared straight at me and added:
“Though the one laughing is just as much of a reckless brat.”
His tone was as blunt as ever.
But when I saw the faint smile at the corner of his mouth, I could only laugh aloud instead of answering.
We’d met again after several months.
Reunions with people you’ve missed are always a joy.
But none of us was stupid enough to sit around a campfire chatting in a situation like this.
“We’d best get out of here quickly. Follow me.”
Before the warmth of our reunion had even faded, the Slaughter Saint wiped the smile from his face and got moving as if nothing had happened.
“Throw away anything that might slow us down. Especially that idiot over there.”
Jeong Hogun, the idiot the Slaughter Saint had pointed out, replied.
“I don’t know what sort of elder you are, but you should at least show some courtesy. I am a Thousand Captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, serving under His Majesty the Emperor’s solemn command…”
Whoosh.
It happened in an instant.
The Slaughter Saint’s figure blurred. Wind swept past, and a gleaming blue dagger came to rest against Jeong Hogun’s neck.
“Go on. Keep talking. Waste even a few more moments and I’ll make you a late elder.”
Everyone, myself included, recognized the extraordinary loyalty Jeong Hogun and his Embroidered Uniform Guards bore the Emperor.
But reality was cold.
The Emperor was somewhere far away. The dagger was right against Jeong Hogun’s neck. He stared at it for a moment, then spoke with a grim face.
“As I said, I am a Thousand Captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, serving under His Majesty the Emperor’s solemn command…but you appear to have a close relationship with the Marquis of Shangshan, so I’ll let this pass.”
The Slaughter Saint replied dryly to that thoroughly undignified excuse for an Embroidered Uniform Guard.
“We’re not that close.”
“You seem to know each other at least somewhat, so I’ll let it pass.”
“Of course we know each other. I said we’re not close.”
“……”
“Just let it go. Understand?”
“……”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
The Slaughter Saint had let him keep that last scrap of dignity in the name of martial-world etiquette. By the time he put away the dagger, most of our three thousand allies were staring at him in shock.
A boy who couldn’t be twenty, even by the most generous estimate, had subdued a Thousand Captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard who had reached the far end of the Peak realm.
In a single move, so fast no one could see it.
Everyone was astonished, but Perfected Being Hyeoncheon seemed more shaken than anyone.
“Fellow Daoist…who are you?”
What you can see depends on where you stand.
Perfected Being Hyeoncheon was a seasoned Supreme Peak master, skilled enough to make out something of the Slaughter Saint’s true realm. Shock and confusion left him unable to say more, and Bow Saint spoke in his place.
“It’s been a long time. I never thought I’d see you again like this.”
The Slaughter Saint had seen through her identity, just as she had his. He answered with a bitter smile.
“I feel the same. After that day, I thought we’d never meet again.”
“Mountains and rivers have changed, and the world has changed with them. I had to act to set everything right.”
The people around them looked more confused with every word they exchanged. Bow Saint quietly added:
“Just as you did, Slaughter Saint.”
“……!”
“……!”
“……!”
For an instant, the air seemed to crackle.
The Slaughter Saint.
Once condemned by the whole martial world, he had gone on to strike fear into countless great fiends after the Great War between the Orthodox and Demonic factions began. He was the greatest assassin of all time.
Those two words were enough to explain the situation to everyone.
The Slaughter Saint gave Bow Saint a small nod, then addressed the people frozen like statues.
“So. Is there another idiot who wants to waste this precious time?”
Of course there wasn’t.
Or, to be precise, even if there was, there had better not be.
Not when the person asking was the Slaughter Saint.
Clank. Clatter!
Jeong Hogun and the other Embroidered Uniform Guards threw off their armor with the speed of reservists heading home after training. The Slaughter Saint’s eyes suddenly narrowed.
“But what exactly is that thing?”
I followed his gaze and immediately understood what he meant.
I also understood why he’d called a human being with all his limbs intact a thing.
“Well, how should I put it… That gentleman’s a little out of his mind.”
“…I’ve gathered that much.”
The Slaughter Saint sighed as he watched Great Sir, who had somehow blended in among the Embroidered Uniform Guards and was enthusiastically stripping off his clothes.
“I’ll have to hear the details, but it seems clear enough that we’ve got one more madman.”
The original madman, of course, was watching the newcomer’s display of physical beauty from right beside him, full of admiration.
“Wow! I’ve never seen anyone take their clothes off so boldly!”
Jeong Hogun stopped Great Sir just as he was about to remove his underwear. Great Sir spotted Cheongpung, and his eyes lit up.
“Thank you for the compliment. And who might you be?”
“Hello! I’m Cheongpung!”
“You’re a spirited young man. I like that. I’m Soonja.”
“Nice to meet you, Auntie!”
No.
Are these guys seriously insane?
Just as everyone stood aghast at the meeting of two natural disasters that shouldn’t occur even once in a hundred years, the Slaughter Saint shook his head and spoke.
“Right. Let’s get going.”
In his hand was a rope that stretched far off into the distance.
“What’s that?”
“War trophy.”
To get straight to the point, the enemies didn’t pursue us after that.
Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that they did, and they didn’t.
“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up soon.”
The Slaughter Saint said that and left us several times. Each time he returned just when we needed him, his body reeking of blood.
After nearly two full days, he said, “They should be less of a nuisance from here on.”
Not one of our three thousand allies, myself included, failed to understand what he meant. He’d shaken off Dark Heaven’s relentless pursuit.
And we all knew how he’d dealt with the pursuers so quickly—and that it was he and Cheongpung, not Great Sir, who had taken down the nearly ten thousand monsters.
“Mmph, mmph.”
The war trophy—no, the black-robed man bound from head to toe in rope—wriggled. Taishan, who was running with him tucked under one arm like a piece of luggage, raised a fist as big as a cauldron lid.
“Don’t move. I’ll hit you.”
“Mmph. Mmmph!”
“Don’t make noise. I’ll eat you.”
“……!”
It was a strange threat, but it worked perfectly.
The black-robed man went still and silent as a mouse. Our allies had been on a brutal forced march for days without rest, but before long we finally left that miserable wilderness behind.
Waiting for us was an enormous lake unlike any I’d ever seen. Around it, a group of beggars huddled together beside their campfires.
Among them was a very familiar face.
“Oh! They’re here! Over here!”
A face so shabby it made you reach for your wallet even from a distance.
Gung Gibang—the next beggar king, destined to lead a hundred thousand beggars.
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