Chapter 715

The room smelled of medicinal herbs. A middle-aged man stood trembling with a long acupuncture needle in his hand while Jeok Cheongang held him by the collar.

I can see where this is going. Oh, I can see it.

I had only just woken up, but the situation was easy enough to grasp. The man, who looked like a physician, spotted me blinking over Jeok Cheongang’s shoulder and shouted.

“Ah! Ahhh! He’s awake! He’s awake!”

“……”

Even my mother wouldn’t have been that happy to see me wake up.

I guarantee it. That wasn’t the joy of a physician whose patient had recovered. It was the relief of a victim spotting the police while facing a serial killer.

Jeok Cheongang let go of the physician’s collar without a fuss and turned to look at me.

He said nothing, even after the physician hurried out. For a long while, he just looked at me.

Then he spoke.

“You took your time waking up.”

At his gruff tone, I shrugged.

I couldn’t exactly tell him I’d had a fucking nightmare in which Old Master tore into my neck with his teeth.

Did you sleep well?

More or less.

“How do you feel?”

“Light. My head’s clear, too.”

That was no exaggeration. My body felt as light as a feather, and the long sleep had cleared the fatigue from my head. I felt sharper than ever.

They said I was unconscious for seven days and nights, didn’t they?

I must have been more exhausted than I realized.

Not to brag, but it was rare for a master who had reached the Supreme Peak realm like me to remain unconscious for an entire week.

Then, without meaning to, I blurted out, “That’s a relief.”

“What is?”

“That this isn’t a dream.”

“……”

“It really is a relief.”

I looked around, overcome with emotion.

Sunlight slipped through the half-open window, and birdsong tickled my ears. Far off, I could sense people passing by and talking quietly among themselves.

I’m alive.

It was ironic.

I was breathing. I could feel the world around me. Yet I still found it hard to believe I was alive.

At the same time, a hollow emptiness took hold of me.

For an instant, the darkness that had wrapped around the Inner Palace seemed to pass over the sunlight settling on the window. So did the sight of countless corpses collapsed with their faces buried in pools of blood.

So… none of it was a dream.

The joy and relief of surviving faded, leaving guilt and bitterness in their place.

I stared blankly at the window until a low voice reached me.

“In the end, some survive, and some die.”

Tap.

A hand came to rest on my shoulder. I felt its warmth as Jeok Cheongang gazed into the distance and continued.

“That is the natural order no one can defy. That is Murim.”

“……”

“Be grateful you survived, and mourn those who died. For now, that is enough.”

Jeok Cheongang walked to the window and threw it open. Sunlight poured in, bathing him in its glow. I watched him in silence.

Thoughts flashed through my mind, and I opened my mouth.

“Old Master.”

At my call, Jeok Cheongang smiled warmly and shook his head.

“Enough. You needn’t say anything now.”

“Ah, that’s not what I meant.”

“Enough, I said. There’s much I want to ask you, but first you need time to gather your thoughts—”

“No, it’s just… you’re dazzling me.”

“Hm?”

I cautiously pointed at his head. Gleaming in the sunlight, his bald scalp was using Solar Fist as a passive Skill.

“Either close the window or move your head a little.”

“……!”

“By the way, did you use Force? You shaved it really clean. I get that it’s a disguise, but you should’ve left some hair. What if it doesn’t grow back?”

The warm smile vanished from Jeok Cheongang’s face.

In an instant, the kindly old man next door became the Blood Monk. He gave me a cold stare.

“You goddamn—”

“I was only asking. Why are you swearing at a patient who just woke up?”

“Would you like to go back to sleep? I could put you out for another three months and fifteen days.”

Crack.

Bones shifted in his tightly clenched fist. Sensing I’d made a terrible mistake, I spoke quickly.

“I’ve slept plenty already.”

“This old man thinks you’d like some more.”

“I’m really fine. The work here is almost done, so we should hurry back to the Central Plains—”

“That’s fine. By the time you wake up, we’ll be in Henan at the very least.”

I swallowed hard.

“That sounds… really bad.”

“Why? The journey will only bore you.”

“It won’t be boring at all. I like admiring natural scenery.”

“How about returning to nature for good?”

“……You’re joking, right?”

“Does it sound like a joke?”

“No.”

“That part was a joke. Waking up in Henan wasn’t.”

Whoosh.

Flames curled around Jeok Cheongang’s fist. I instinctively looked around, but of course there was no fire extinguisher.

I’m fucked. Shit.

Resigned to my fate, I made a polite request.

“Please go easy on me.”

“If you take it without a fuss, I can do that. Which would you prefer, Flame Divine Palm or Flame-Extinguishing Divine Fist?”

“……Would either of those not hurt if you used them gently?”

“Would you rather I hit you hard?”

“……Is there anything besides Flame Divine Palm and Flame-Extinguishing Divine Fist?”

“There is.”

“Oh? What?”

“Dance of the Fire God and Demon.”

I asked with complete sincerity.

“Have you actually gone senile?”

Whack!

My vision flashed white.

I writhed with my mouth hanging open, pain shooting through my forehead. Jeok Cheongang’s impossibly gruff voice reached me.

“I thought it was about time you woke up, so I came by for the first time in a while. And here you are, perfectly fine. Stop spouting nonsense and get your strength back. I’m leaving.”

Click.

I opened my eyes just as the door shut firmly behind him. Rubbing my forehead with tears in my eyes, I looked at the space he’d left behind and muttered, “You could’ve stayed a little longer…”

Before my faint voice had faded, a tremor swept through the pavilion.

Boom. Boom. Rumble!

Amazingly, those were someone’s footsteps. Alongside the vibrations of what sounded like a charging elephant, I sensed several others approaching with uncanny lightness.

They were headed toward the firmly closed door Jeok Cheongang had just passed through.

“Hey, wait—!”

But my desperate shout never reached the end.

Crash!

The wooden door burst apart, sending dust billowing into the air.

As I stood there blankly frozen in the quarters that had become a ruin in an instant, I saw several familiar faces through the dust cloud and let out a helpless laugh.

Yeah. Well, this isn’t so bad either.

“How’s everyone been?”

As if on cue, several figures leaped toward me at once.

No—one enormous figure soared nearly to the ceiling and came down on all of us, myself included.

Whoooosh!

“Taishan missed the Pavilion Master!”

“……Ah.”

I hadn’t counted on you.

Bang!

Hearing the crash behind him, Jeok Cheongang let out a quiet laugh.

“Well, what a commotion.”

It had to be that huge fellow—Taishan, or was it Geosan?

The physician who had left the quarters first must already have spread the news. The members of the Fire Dragon Pavilion had rushed over faster than anyone else, barely sparing Jeok Cheongang a glance as they headed toward the pavilion. That had happened only moments ago.

The youngsters want to be together. This old man should give them space.

Granted, there was another old man among them. But Jeok Cheongang had passed ninety-nine long ago. To him, anyone under eighty was in the prime of youth.

It was his firm belief that anyone eighty or younger could chew Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron.

…Perhaps that’s going a bit far.

After muttering inwardly, Jeok Cheongang began to walk slowly.

He looked up at the sky, which had cleared as though nothing had happened, and watched the Nanman people begin gathering in groups of three or five after hearing the news of Jin Taekyung.

The cool breeze brushed against him, and a thought came to him.

No—a question for someone who wasn’t there to hear it.

Do you really believe that?

After seven days and nights, Jin Taekyung had woken and said he was glad this wasn’t a dream. Truly glad.

But his voice, his eyes, everything Jeok Cheongang had seen told a different story.

He blames himself for surviving. For failing to save them.

No one knew what became of the dead. Jeok Cheongang had, however, seen countless people survive hell. He knew how they went on living with regret and guilt.

The Great Faction War.

He had lived through that seeming eternity of blood and death himself.

But overcoming it makes you stronger.

That was why he had said as little as he could. He had pretended not to notice Jin Taekyung groaning and thrashing in pain while unconscious, then made himself ask:

Did you sleep well?

More or less.

It must have been a terrible nightmare. Jin Taekyung had lied through his teeth without batting an eye.

Cheeky brat.

Jeok Cheongang wasn’t angry. He was proud to see Jin Taekyung doing his best to endure it, though it saddened him, too.

That was all.

So why did something in his chest still ache? Why did Jin Taekyung’s figure keep wavering before his eyes even as he looked at the world around him?

Damn it. I really am getting old.

Strangely, he didn’t much mind.

He had witnessed that mysterious recovery with his own eyes, but it was Jin Taekyung—not anything else—who filled his heart.

Well, this isn’t so bad either.

With a faint smile, Jeok Cheongang headed somewhere quiet. Sunlight filtered through the leaves onto his bare scalp.

“Captain.”

“What?”

“Captain.”

“Ah, what?”

“Captaiiin!”

“Stop calling me, you bastard. I’m not dead yet.”

Despite my shouting, Hyuk Mujin’s voice still trembled with tears. He gripped my sleeve in both hands and looked up at me with wet eyes.

“Then when are you going to pass away?”

“……Are you insane? You sound like you’re praying for me to die.”

“You were unconscious for seven whole days and nights. I really thought you were going to die.”

Taishan, who was on his hands and knees mopping the floor at my express command, promptly nodded.

“That’s right. Taishan thought the Pavilion Master would never wake up and looked forward to it.”

I was just beginning to feel touched when I noticed that something was wrong and blinked.

“Looked forward to it? Why?”

Namho, who had claimed the only chair on account of his age, muttered, “Why ask? The son of a bitch was looking forward to the funeral feast.”

“No! Taishan worried so much about the Pavilion Master that he drooled whenever he thought of him!”

“……”

“……”

That bastard really had been looking forward to it.

Sama Pyo, who was practically Taishan’s mother, met my eyes and lowered his head weakly.

“Pretend you didn’t hear that. Even with ten mouths, I’d have nothing to say.”

“Ten mouths? If Taishan had ten mouths—!”

“You’d eat ten times as much. Please, can someone muzzle him?”

Just as Assemblyman Namho of the Nanman Party formally introduced the Taishan Muzzle Bill, something whistled through the air.

Whoosh—crash!

The table—the one piece of furniture in the ruined quarters that had more or less kept its shape—splintered in a single blow.

Then came a cold voice.

“What… are you all doing in front of a patient?”

Everyone fell silent at Ju Hwaran’s question. She had just smashed a table in front of that same patient.