Chapter 125

“Benefactor.”

Lee Seowol looked especially beautiful today. She wore a snow-white formal robe, and her hair gleamed where it had been swept up with a jade hairpin.

She still looked haggard from everything she had been through, but she was so dazzlingly beautiful that even her exhaustion seemed charming.

No. What am I thinking?

Beautiful? Charming? At seventeen, she should still be wearing a school uniform and worrying about her grades, not marriage.

She was two years younger than Hayeon, putting ten years between us. With an age gap like that, she might as well have been my niece.

Still, she certainly seems mature for her age… No. Get a grip.

Avoiding Lee Seowol’s deep gaze, I clasped my hands in a formal salute.

“Greetings.”

“I greet the Sect Leader.”

Lee Seowol was no ordinary girl. She was the Sect Leader responsible for an entire sect. Just as she was about to return Jin Mukyung’s and my polite greetings—

“Imagine the Sect Leader of the great Mount Heng Sword Sect coming out to greet us in person! I, Hyuk Mujin, am truly honored!”

Of course. It wouldn’t be complete without you.

Hyuk Mujin kept his eyes fixed on her as he bowed over and over. All I could do was sigh.

“I apologize. He’s not all there.”

“…Captain.”

“You saw that, right? We’re not even close, but he’s pretending we are. You’ll be better off ignoring him.”

A faint dimple appeared at the corner of Lee Seowol’s mouth.

“Not at all. He’s also a Benefactor who fought for our sect.”

“It’s fine. He didn’t lift a finger, so you don’t have to count him as a Benefactor.”

“…Oh. I see.”

Her smile had just turned awkward when a rough voice came from behind her.

“He’s a Benefactor to me.”

The speaker was a middle-aged man with half-gray hair. Seated in a rattling wooden cart, he greeted us with a nod.

“Please excuse me for being unable to stand. Well, age has caught up with me. My body isn’t what it used to be.”

No one here could match the man before us in either age or fame.

At the appearance of Cheol Mubaek, the Tiger of Mount Heng, Hyuk Mujin quickly bent at the waist.

“I greet Great Hero Cheol Mubaek—”

“Is this your first time seeing my face? Spare me the tiresome formalities.”

“But you’re a renowned great senior of the Murim…”

“Senior, my foot. If you fuss over every little distinction like that, life in the Murim gets exhausting.”

“…”

Look at how laid-back this old man was.

Even Hyuk Mujin, who was as shameless as they came, quietly shrank back. That left Jin Mukyung.

“You’ve arrived.”

Nothing special. He simply clasped his hands in a brief salute. Yet Cheol Mubaek’s face lit up the instant he saw him.

“Well, if it isn’t our Heaven Shaking Sword. So, you’re leaving now?”

“It seems so.”

“Why not stay a little longer? We could have an in-depth discussion about martial arts later. Hmm?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m pressed for time.”

“Oh, what a shame. It can’t be helped, then. Will you come visit this old man sometime?”

“If a great senior of the martial world is willing to teach me, then I should be the one asking for the opportunity.”

“Ha-ha-ha! Senior, huh? I like the sound of that.”

What exactly was I looking at?

They had only spent three or four days together, but they looked like a close grandfather and grandson.

And what was that? Hadn’t he just said fussing over seniority made life exhausting? Look at him changing his tune.

I shot Hyuk Mujin a glance.

What’s with those two?

No idea. He called me a Benefactor before, but is it really all right to treat people this differently?

But if you’re being honest, you didn’t actually do anything.

…

He clamped his mouth shut with an irritated expression. My meaning seemed to have gotten through.

“All right. Make sure you come next time.”

Cheol Mubaek gazed at Jin Mukyung with a pleased, grandfatherly smile before turning toward me.

“What about you? Don’t you have anything to say?”

Was it my imagination, or had I just felt a predator’s gaze?

I decided to follow the better of the two examples I had just witnessed.

“You’ve arrived.”

“Of course I have. Did I go somewhere?”

“…”

That wasn’t it.

But smiling in hard times was the mark of a First Rate man. I put on a smile without panicking.

“Are you feeling all right?”

This time, Cheol Mubaek shook his splinted limbs.

“Do I look all right?”

“…No.”

“If I were all right, I would’ve walked here. These days, those mounted-bandit bastards work people without even a retirement age. How is an old man like me supposed to keep up?”

“…”

The old man had quite a memory. He still seemed to be holding on to what I had said by mistake when we first met.

Lee Seowol, who knew nothing about the situation, shouted in embarrassment.

“Uncle!”

“Good grief, you’ll burst this old man’s eardrums.”

After grumbling, he suddenly bowed his head politely.

“Thank you, all of you.”

He wasn’t thanking us out of obligation. Cheol Mubaek, the Tiger of Mount Heng—an old master who had walked his own path for many years—was speaking from the bottom of his heart.

“Not because you prolonged what little remains of this old man’s life. Seowol—thank you for protecting that child. Thanks to all of you, the Mount Heng Sword Sect survived.”

He gazed calmly at me, Jin Mukyung, and Hyuk Mujin in turn.

“I’ve learned something after living for more than a jiazi.¹ Gratitude and grudges must be repaid, no matter what it takes. I swear here and now that I will never forget what happened, not until the day I die. If you wish it, I’ll repay you even if it costs me my life.”

Lee Seowol immediately continued where he left off.

“The Mount Heng Sword Sect will also remember our Benefactors. And for the wrongs committed by my late father… I would like to offer our apology here and now.”

“We apologize!”

“Please forgive us!”

The thunderous cries burst from the mouths of the Mount Heng martial artists.

Every one of them bore injuries, both great and small. Kneeling in the snow that had yet to melt, they waited for our answer.

A light tap.

You answer.

At Jin Mukyung’s Sound Transmission, I licked my parched lips.

Forgiveness.

We had won the war, but wounds remained.

Martial artists had fought and died without end on the orders of their superiors. Even women and children who had never learned martial arts had been sacrificed. It was all the work of Lee Cheonbaek, blinded by his desire to avenge his son.

The wounds left by the war with the Mount Heng Sword Sect ran deep. They would take a long time to heal.

And scars will remain.

Some scars could never be erased.

The young siblings who had lost their home and parents in an instant would carry scars like that. So would I, judging by how the face of that man who had dreamed the absurd dream of becoming the greatest of all time still haunted me.

But I couldn’t deny that the wounds were beginning to close.

Because everyone who caused them is dead.

The Head Elder and Lee Cheonbaek, each of whom had dreamed of revenge, had already met their ends.

Wasn’t that why we had raced here day and night to save the Mount Heng Sword Sect?

With a sincere apology and forgiveness… wounds could heal, even if the scars remained.

Just as they were now.

“I won’t accept your apology.”

The words came out only after considerable thought. Without waiting for anyone else to react, I continued.

“I’m not someone with the right to receive your apology or forgive you.”

No one here had that right. The people they needed to apologize to were back at the Jin Family of Taiyuan.

Lee Seowol and Cheol Mubaek seemed to understand. Both nodded.

“I’ll see you on New Year’s Day.”

“Taiyuan, is it? It will be my first journey away from home in thirty years.”

The Mount Heng Sword Sect would hardly be a welcome guest. Especially now, diminished to such a pitiful state, they might have to endure all manner of humiliation and disgrace.

But that was something they would have to bear themselves. There was nothing I could do, nor any reason for me to interfere.

Well done.

With Jin Mukyung’s brief Sound Transmission in my ear, I offered one last farewell.

“Then we’ll be going.”

I had just turned toward the carriage when Lee Seowol called out.

“Benefactor.”

“Yes?”

“Did you know there are fewer than fifteen days left until New Year’s Day?”

Her voice babbled on like a little stream.

“I’m looking forward to hearing the answer I didn’t get last time.”

I could only open and close my mouth in confusion as Jin Mukyung grabbed me and dragged me away.

With Cheol Mubaek’s distinctly displeased cough sounding behind us, the carriage set off at full speed.

The journey back to the Jin Family of Taiyuan was quick and smooth. The coachman’s skill played a part, but with the impatience gone from my heart, everything seemed that way.

“Phew.”

Jin Mukyung had just finished circulating his qi when he suddenly muttered, “Now that I think about it, I didn’t even get to see a Peak martial art.”

He had joined us after Jin Wikyung lured him in with the promise that he could see Peak martial arts at Mount Heng. I answered him calmly.

“It’s fine. Thanks to Pung Yang, you got to see Mount Beimang.”

“You call that consolation?”

“No. I was making fun of you.”

Bones cracked in Jin Mukyung’s hand.

“You’ve grown a lot.”

“Want to spar once your injuries are fully healed?”

“I could do it right now… Urgh.”

Jin Mukyung tried to spring to his feet, then immediately frowned.

No matter how quickly he recovered, it had only been four days. That was nowhere near enough time for his injuries to heal completely.

He collapsed back into his seat and glared at me.

“Consider yourself lucky.”

“I don’t know about lucky, but my lifeline sure is damn thick.”

Considering how I kept surviving every brush with death, I must have been born with an unusually sturdy lifeline. Either that, or I had been blessed with heaven’s fortune.

“Anyway, you did well.”

“Huh?”

“Eeeh?”

Hyuk Mujin and I both widened our eyes at the unexpected praise sticker. Jin Mukyung looked at us as if he couldn’t understand what was wrong.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You look as if you’ve heard something you weren’t supposed to.”

“You’re practically a ghost.”

“Wait, could Pung Yang have already killed you? Are you sitting here as a vengeful spirit?”

It was a fairly plausible theory, but around Jin Mukyung, you had to watch your mouth at all times.

As I watched Hyuk Mujin get beaten until dust flew, I felt around inside my robes.

Inventory open. Summon.

The next moment, my fingertips touched something round and hard.

It was the only thing Pung Yang had left behind.

No—the only thing I had taken from him.

Check Item.

Ding.

System

Item Window

Temporary Strength Pill

Type: Elixir
Grade: ???
Restriction: Peak martial artist or higher
Description: A pill manufactured by an unknown person. It greatly raises the user’s latent power for about one shichen, but a price must be paid in return. Do not take it except in the worst-case scenario.
Effect: Combat-related stats +100

Internal energy: +15 years

Body-Protecting Qi: Available

Even accounting for the short time limit, its effects were monstrous. I could understand why Pung Yang had been so confident.

I had no idea how severe the aftereffects were, but if my life were in danger, I’d swallow twenty of them, not two. Obviously.

But something else bothered me.

An elixir manufactured by an unknown person.

The Item’s Grade was marked with question marks, its exact aftereffects weren’t listed, and even its maker was shrouded in mystery.

What kind of bastard had created something this bizarre?

This thing reeks of something shady.

I was rolling the Temporary Strength Pill around in my palm, lost in thought, when a distant cry drifted toward us.

“Mukyuuung! Taekyuuung!”

Jin Mukyung froze in the middle of enthusiastically hammering Hyuk Mujin’s forehead.

“Was that a hallucination?”

Yeah, no.