Chapter 614

System

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Ding.

Before the familiar System notifications had even finished, I felt rough straw against my skin and smelled wet grass.

I spat out the piece of rice straw stuck to my lips and muttered inwardly.

I’m back.

Back in the Murim.

I’d spent barely over a month in the modern world, yet my time here felt like the distant past. It wasn’t just my imagination.

I’ve had way too much going on.

The Murim. The modern world.

Everything around me in both worlds was changing fast. One thing kept happening after another. Even two bodies wouldn’t have been enough to keep up.

“……”

Come to think of it, I did have two bodies. Having to control them one at a time was what made it so damn exhausting.

Anyway…

Ah. I don’t want to get up.

The straw covering me was warmer and softer than I’d expected. I wanted nothing more than to lie there and sleep. I’d barely slept for nearly a week while developing a martial art for widespread use.

I might have drifted off if I hadn’t heard voices nearby.

“Hmm. You’re asking what kind of person Captain is?”

“Yes. I’ve been curious for a while. The other two aren’t here yet, and I’m bored. You’re curious too, aren’t you, Escort Song?”

I knew those voices. After Hyuk Mujin and Ju Hwaran, Song Ilseom—the Soul-Chasing Guest—answered gruffly.

“Not particularly.”

“Did you hear that? Escort Song is curious too.”

“I said I’m not.”

“I’ll give you two more silver nyang¹.”

“……I’m a little curious.”

Money-grubbing bastard.

Once Song Ilseom had been won over by the big spender’s silver donation, Mujin spoke again, sounding hesitant.

“Hmm. This is hard to answer. Captain’s definitely still asleep, right?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“He is. His breathing is steady.”

“Well, once he falls asleep, he wouldn’t notice if a ghost carried him away.”

Steady, my ass.

I was controlling my breathing. I was curious what Mujin would say, too.

And my loyal right pinky toe didn’t let me down.

“Our captain is that famous, really famous… uh, how do I put it…?”

“A handsome, impressive young prodigy?”

At Ju Hwaran’s question, delivered in a voice as clear and lovely as a Young Chang piano, Hyuk Mujin answered without a trace of hesitation.

“He was a fucking bastard.”

“……Ah.”

“……Uh.”

“These days, people call him the Blazing Flame Divine Dragon and all that. But a year or two ago, you’d have had a hard time finding a bigger fucking bastard. He went to pleasure houses and got shit-faced every day, stole public funds, and blew them at gambling dens. He was so bad that his sobriquet back then was…”

“Hey.”

“That’s right. The Night King. In that field, even all Ten Kings together wouldn’t have been a match for him. Every night, he’d strap a money pouch to his side and stride off to a pleasure house like he owned the place. My fellow gate guards and I used to say, ‘That fucking bastard’s using the Heavenly Demon Reign Step again.’ I see you’ve heard of him, Great Hero Song. You really do know a lot.”

“What are you talking about?” Song Ilseom asked, sounding uneasy. “I didn’t say anything.”

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Come on. You said ‘hey’ just now.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“It was definitely a man’s voice. Don’t joke around. Then who…?”

His voice cut off.

After a short, heavy silence, someone carefully lifted the straw from my face.

Rustle. Ssshh.

The straw blocking my view fell away. In the faint moonlight, my eyes met Mujin’s.

I gave him a warm, friendly smile. It had been a while.

“Hey.”

“……”

Mujin stared down at me in silence, his gaze growing somber. Then he laid the straw back over my face.

Very carefully, as though nothing had happened.

“Move it.”

“The moon must be bright tonight. I’m hearing things…”

“If you don’t move it, your life’s going to get dark. Move it.”

“Yes, sir.”

The straw had stopped feeling warm and cozy.

Like a vampire waking after centuries sealed away by an exorcist, I rose from the wagon’s cargo bed.

Whoooosh.

A chilly wind blew the bits of straw from my clothes.

Ju Hwaran met my eyes and hastily looked away. By the campfire—when had he even lit that?—Song Ilseom got to his feet, muttering that he needed to feed the horse some hay.

My shadow swelled in the flickering firelight and fell across Mujin.

“Any last words?”

“Captain, please. Hear me out.”

“That’s why I asked.”

“You said they were my last words. It sounds like a will.”

“It probably is.”

“……Ah.”

“You were having a great time. As your captain, I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see my subordinate enjoying himself.”

That was half true. I really couldn’t contain myself.

I’d busted my ass in the Murim, busted my ass in the modern world, and come back without getting any sleep—only to find my own subordinate talking shit about me behind my back.

And the name of the emotion that followed this situation straight out of a light novel was rage.

“Face, arms, legs, abdomen, back. Pick one.”

“Are those my possible causes of death?”

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m just going to beat you within an inch of your life.”

Mujin thought for a moment.

“The abdomen.”

“Why?”

“Wounds on the back are… a martial artist’s shame.”

I let out an exclamation at his spirit.

“What a load of bullshit.”

“I did wrong, so I’ll take my punishment. Come at me.”

“Since you picked your abdomen, I’ll pick the rest.”

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? It wouldn’t be fair if only you got to choose. I should get a turn too.”

“No, wait. How is that fair—”

Wham!

The blow cracked through the night.

Above the slowly burning campfire, the shadow of a man soaring upward with blood spraying from his nose loomed large.

I’m already using my fists the moment I get back.

We were on Mount Daebyeol, where Anhui and Hubei bordered Henan.

Two figures approached from the distance, with Mujin’s screams providing the background music. They were the final members of the Fire Dragon Pavilion: a pair of rootless unorthodox faction nobodies.

“……Why are they beating him?”

“Taishan! Is here!”

At last, the Fire Dragon Pavilion’s Nanman expedition party had gathered in one place. I left them with a short but powerful lecture, then turned away.

“All right, let’s finish beating this bastard and get going.”

Nobody objected.

Right now, I wasn’t Jin Taekyung the S-rank Hunter. I was the Blazing Flame Divine Dragon, the orthodox Murim’s greatest young prodigy, and Jin Taekyung, Fire Dragon Pavilion Master—their direct superior.

Crack!

“Urgh! Aaaagh!”

I really do love the Murim. Except for that damned Dark Heaven.

Not a single ray of light reached that pitch-black place.

In the darkness, where neither sound nor any sign of life could be felt, figures lay facedown and trembled.

Then—

“Heaven above, earth below!”

“All demons bow in submission!”

The cries erupted as one, thunderous. Crimson-black flames surged up from the darkness.

Fwoosh!

A ring of fire blazed fiercely. Yet despite being unmistakable flames, they gave off a chill that seeped into the bones. Beyond them, someone’s shadow wavered.

“It has been a long time.”

Man or woman, young or old—even the pitch of the voice was impossible to tell.

The strange voice resounded from every direction, pressing down on the figures prostrate on the floor.

“My servants.”

Everyone trembled at the overwhelming power in those two words. Some shook with fear of the absolute being before them; others with joy and rapture at seeing the one they served.

Together, they cried out.

“These foolish, lowly servants humbly pay their respects to the great Lord of Heaven!”

Lord of Heaven. Master of the heavens.

No other words could describe him.

An absolute being of unmatched dignity and greatness. The heavens above the clouds were his palace; every lowly creature on the earth below was his servant and subject.

No. They would make it so.

“How much time has passed?”

Every one of them understood the living god’s question. The figures prostrate before him were servants of the Lord of Heaven, loyal and devoted beyond words.

The young man bowing low against the floor was no different.

“Exactly one hundred and thirty-six days since the great Lord of Heaven last awoke!”

The fierce flames wavered at his answer.

“Yes. I remember. Western Heaven. That was the day the child left.”

“We are deeply ashamed!”

Led by the young man, they cried out again. This time, shame and self-reproach filled their voices.

When the Western Heaven Demon Lord and the Dark Heaven forces under his command had been annihilated at the Sichuan Tang Clan, the unexpected defeat had thrown them into confusion. They had been forced to wake their master from his deep sleep.

“Great Lord of Heaven, never again… will such a thing happen.”

The words came through the young man’s clenched teeth. The flames stirred once more.

“No. The mistake was mine, for trusting you despite your shortcomings.”

“……!”

“Blood Lord. You have your own shortcomings, do you not?”

At the most painful reprimand of all, the pupils of the young man—Blood Lord—trembled.

Blood Lord knew better than anyone what the master he worshiped meant.

Henan.

The day the orthodox Murim had named the Shaolin Bloodshed was one of the most painful memories of his life. He had accomplished far less than planned, and suffered the humiliation of leaving an arm behind.

If he hadn’t at least brought back Shaolin’s sacred treasure, the Green Jade Buddha Staff… He didn’t want to think about it.

The Sword Saint. And Jin Taekyung.

Thinking of those two bastards made him want to kill. Even tearing them apart alive wouldn’t satisfy him.

But a loyal servant must not show such thoughts before his master. Blood Lord barely suppressed his murderous intent and spoke.

“P-Please forgive me.”

Whoooong.

A chilly wind swept through the darkness in place of an answer. Blood Lord and the others huddled lower.

Then a quiet voice reached their ears.

“What is lacking can be filled.”

The air grew heavy. The wind stopped, and every living thing held its breath.

In the stillness, the Lord of Heaven continued.

“I shall fill what you lack.”

It was a command, backed by a force none of them could resist.

Fwoooooosh.

Darkness and shadow rippled.

An immense surge of qi flowed from somewhere unseen and settled into Blood Lord’s body. His eyes widened with rapture.

“L-Lord of Heaven!”

Blood Lord and the others understood once more: the master they served was a living god, an absolute being who encompassed heaven and earth.

They understood, too, what the power he had bestowed on them meant.

“Tell Southern Heaven and North Heaven.”

Rumble, rumble, rumble!

The earth trembled. The world shook.

Beyond the overwhelming energy that distorted everything, his voice rang out like thunder.

“Now… we begin the Great War.”

Heaven above, earth below. All demons bow in submission.

As his loyal servants cried out in rapture and madness, the unseen shadow waved a hand.

The crimson-black flames that had colored the pitch-black space disappeared, and darkness descended once more.