Chapter 711

Sometimes, a certain kind of silence can take the place of countless emotions and words.

Like right now.

“Um, could you let go of my hand first? Then we can talk.”

“……”

Jeok Cheongang did not let go. He did not answer, either. He only stared, his gaze roaming over my face and the rest of me as if he were in a daze.

What the hell? Is this all a dream?

That was what his eyes seemed to say, and I understood completely.

How else could he react?

The guy who had been dying right in front of him was suddenly alive and whole.

Even that prophet from the neighborhood over had wounds on his palms after rising from the dead three days after being nailed to a cross. Five level-ups had left me with the unblemished skin of a baby.

And Jeok Cheongang had watched it happen.

Smack!

A sharp sound rang out.

Jeok Cheongang had slapped himself across the face with all his strength. He blinked at me, then spoke with a grave expression.

“Let me ask you one thing. Am I dreaming?”

I answered carefully. “No.”

“No matter how I think about it, this feels like a dream.”

“Then slap yourself again.”

Smack!

No hesitation, as usual.

He must have hit himself pretty damn hard. Jeok Cheongang spat out a thick mouthful of blood, then took a deep breath.

“…Damn it. Not a dream. Then is this an illusion cast by a Mystic Gate Formation?”

“Uh, I don’t think so. If I were an illusion, whose hand would the Old Master be holding right now?”

“A Dark Heaven sorcerer wearing your likeness. Or the Southern Heaven Demon Empress, if she isn’t dead after all. Whoever it is, they’ll be preparing a One Strike while I’m distracted by the illusion.”

“Quite an imagination you’ve got. Are you going senile?”

“The way you speak certainly sounds like you. Hah. This is driving me mad.”

“It’s driving me mad too.”

I meant it. I had kept the System hidden all this time, and now I had been caught with no way to explain it away.

I sighed and looked at Jeok Cheongang, who still seemed stunned. No matter how many times I looked, I could not get used to his roughly shaved head and worn monk’s robe.

“Anyway, what’s with that getup?”

“Can’t you tell? It’s a disguise. I look enough like a monk, don’t I?”

“You look like a monk who broke his vows, set fire to a temple, and ran away.”

“…You little bastard. Do you think I wanted to dress up as some fake monk? I had to stay out of Dark Heaven’s sight. My hair stood out too much, so I shaved it off.”

Fair enough. No matter how vast the world was, red hair was rare. He would stand out wherever he went, and word would spread.

But that did not explain everything.

The Blood Monk I had heard about was a terrifying fiend who had single-handedly drenched Guangxi in blood.

“So, to avoid Dark Heaven, you disguised yourself as a monk and beat hundreds of innocent Murim practitioners to death?”

“What those bastards were doing was—what?”

Jeok Cheongang’s brow furrowed as he tried to continue.

“Innocent Murim practitioners? What nonsense is that?”

“…?”

“I did draw attention in Guangxi, though I never meant to. Some unorthodox faction scum were taking advantage of the chaos to get up to all sorts of vile things, so I dealt with them.”

“Unorthodox faction? Did you just say unorthodox faction?”

“Yes. They were committing atrocities and making them look like Dark Heaven’s work. I went after them and smashed about six of their sects. The rest of the small fry scattered.”

“…!”

I listened with my mouth open. At last, the pieces fell into place.

That Murim practitioner who fled Guangxi.

The man who had supposedly caught an endemic disease and died as soon as he entered Nanman had actually been unorthodox faction small fry fleeing Jeok Cheongang’s fiery fists.

Crayfish side with crabs, and people know how to read the room.

Nanman already shunned outsiders. There was no way those people could admit that they were bad guys, and in the process, the unorthodox practitioners killed by Jeok Cheongang had been transformed into righteous heroes who loved justice and peace.

A story like that could take hold because Nanman was so isolated from the outside world.

How the fuck did that happen?

I stared at Jeok Cheongang. Then another thought struck me, and I spoke up quickly.

“Then on your way here, did you happen to—”

“I don’t know who you’re asking about, but I met them all. The river bandits diving around in the Yangtze. The Nanman people who greeted me with spears and swords. Even your subordinates.”

“Oh.”

“The Escort King’s granddaughter told me you were in danger the moment she saw me. That Hyuk fellow grabbed my trouser leg and sobbed so hard I nearly broke his wrist.”

I could picture them from his words alone—how desperate they must have been.

And I could picture Jeok Cheongang racing here the moment he heard I was in danger, without a question or a moment’s hesitation.

“But why are we talking about them? I’m the one owed an explanation.”

He made a show of scowling. I found myself laughing.

“…You’re laughing?”

The disbelief on his face only made me smile wider.

“Of course I am. We’re both alive, and we’ve found each other again.”

“…!”

“I’m sorry. And thank you. I know you have a lot of questions. I’ll explain everything later. I promise.”

Jeok Cheongang looked as though he had plenty to say, but when he answered, his voice was subdued.

“You damn brat.”

There was so much in those three words. For a moment, it almost sounded as though he were thanking me for staying alive. Between us, that was enough.

“Stop smiling. I’ll get attached.”

“For someone who supposedly isn’t attached, you were crying pretty bitterly. Of course, I’m not talking about you, Old Master.”

“…Shut that mouth of yours.”

He must have remembered what he had been doing a moment ago. Still huffing, he took my hand and pulled me to my feet.

Pat, pat.

The dust and stone grit covering my entire body fell away. The pain had been gone for a long time, but my vision blurred for a moment.

Hmm.

I held back a groan. Five level-ups had healed my body, and it moved exactly as I wanted. My mind was another matter. Battle after battle without a moment’s rest had left me exhausted.

Ah, I want to sleep.

I wanted to collapse where I stood. To sleep until my body and mind felt refreshed, then wake to a clear sky and spend the day slowly shaking off the drowsiness.

But… not yet.

Dark clouds still filled the sky. All around us, people lay groaning, some lightly wounded, others gravely hurt.

If we left them there, they would fall asleep and never wake again.

Jeok Cheongang finally looked around. His expression darkened.

“…I should have been faster.”

It was pointless regret and needless self-reproach. If Jeok Cheongang hadn’t come, all of us—including me—might have been buried here.

“Let’s hurry. Before it gets any later.”

I nodded and chose the quickest, most accurate way to find the survivors.

Activate Skill: Qi Sense.

Ding.

Along with the clear ringing of a bell announcing that the System had activated, a blue circle spread outward from me and enclosed a set area. At the same time, Level display windows rose here and there, and my chest tightened.

Too few.

I could see only about thirty Level display windows.

That meant the Nanman warriors, once nearly a thousand strong, and the three hundred members of the Baekcheon Unit had fallen here.

There was one small mercy: those still breathing did not seem to be in critical condition.

By the end, even the Southern Heaven Demon Empress must have been conserving every scrap of strength.

The thought weighed on me as I rushed to the nearest fallen man.

Wang Ho, Commander of the Baekcheon Unit.

I grasped the wrist of the man who had charged at the Southern Heaven Demon Empress until the final moment, then sent internal energy through his back and along his spine with my other hand.

Ssshhhhhh.

“C-cough.”

Wang Ho spat out a mouthful of dark blood. Color began to return to his pale face.

He had been struck particularly hard because he had fought the fiercest battle among the Baekcheon Unit, but this should let us breathe a little easier.

Others were plainly in far worse shape.

Hhh… hhh…

A thin breath escaped through the nose of a giant who had collapsed on his knees. Jeok Cheongang recognized him and let out a low groan.

“…He took a hell of a hit. He wasn’t wounded this badly even during the Great Faction War.”

The Southern Heaven Demon Empress’s One Strike, launched at the cost of her own life, had been that devastating.

Countless sword fragments and pieces of debris were lodged deep throughout his body. The Beast Miao King had also suffered massive internal injuries while protecting me, leaving him unconscious. The sight of him was awful.

“Old Master, do you think—”

Jeok Cheongang heard the worry in my voice and shook his head before I could finish.

“The Beast Miao King is as tough as iron, so don’t worry. If this old man does his best, he should be able to survive. But…”

His words trailed off. The certainty in his voice faded as he looked toward the enormous White Tiger lying a few steps away.

“I don’t know about that beast. It seems extraordinary, even for an animal, but must it be saved?”

Yes. No matter what it takes.

Before I could say it aloud, a quiet thought reached us.

—If that is how it ends, then that too is my fate.

“…!”

—You have lived a long time, old human. Your face is different from the one I saw in the imugi’s¹ memories, but what you are has not changed.

Jeok Cheongang’s eyes widened. The guardian spirit turned its gaze from him to me.

—Come closer.

I bit my lip and went to it. I sat beside its head and stroked the back of its neck, soaked with blood. A low growl escaped it.

—How insolent. How dare you lay a hand on this body?

What could I say?

As I silently stroked only its neck, the guardian spirit sent another thought to me.

—Though I cannot say I dislike it. There was an impudent human much like you, long ago.

I thought I knew who it meant.

The first Palace Lord of the Nanman Beast Palace. The only human the guardian spirit had ever opened its heart to in all its long life.

—Strange, isn’t it? Everything about you is different, yet you remind me of him. He returned to the earth hundreds of years ago.

“…!”

—Perhaps that is why I saved you without thinking. Why I entrusted the sacred stone to a mere human.

The White Tiger’s enormous body heaved beneath my hand. Breathing raggedly, the guardian spirit lifted its blue-white eyes to mine.

At that moment, I understood instinctively.

Why it needed the sacred stone. What it meant to do with it.

The rift.

The guardian spirit was trying to close that dense darkness—the rift—all by itself.

Just as an imugi¹ had done several months ago.