Chapter 955

Tap.

Something cold touched me, and my eyes flew open.

My body moved on instinct, too.

Whoosh!

My fist cut through empty air.

As my vision snapped back into focus, the Bow Saint—watching me from the tree across from us—spoke with a calm expression.

“Looks like you had a nightmare.”

Ah.

Only then did I realize I’d been asleep—so deeply that I hadn’t even noticed myself drifting off.

And, just as the Bow Saint had said, everything I’d seen and experienced in it had been the worst of the worst.

“How long was I asleep?”

I asked as I tried to steady my ragged breathing. The Bow Saint dropped lightly from the branch and answered.

“Let’s see. About one shichen¹.”

“One shichen¹…”

“Sleep a little longer. At least until daybreak.”

Dawn was still dim.

Above us, the morning dew that had woken me was slowly rolling down a leaf, and now and then the only sound in the deserted mountain woods was the chirping of insects.

“Old—no, where’s Master?”

“Hunting. We’ve had nothing but jerky and water for more than seven days and nights. It’s the least he can do. And…”

The Bow Saint tossed a dry twig onto the dying campfire.

“You needn’t worry about what to call him. I’ve already guessed the general situation. You two are surprisingly sentimental for such rough-looking men.”

“How did you—”

“If you have the energy to ask about every little thing, come warm yourself by the fire.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I got up and started walking.

Not toward the campfire, but toward the still-dark woods.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll go on ahead, slowly. When Old Master gets back, we can—”

“You really are a stubborn brat.”

The Bow Saint clicked her tongue and reached out.

Fwish!

Finger Qi shot toward me with a sound like tearing wind and grazed the back of my neck. Its chilling whistle drove away every trace of sleepiness.

“…What are you doing?”

“A beating is the best medicine for a disobedient child. Sit by the fire while I’m still asking nicely. Or lie down and go back to sleep.”

I’d forgotten. The woman who looked barely thirty was still a Murim martial artist, and force came more naturally to her than words.

And the Three Saints were, among other things, a top-tier corporation—no, a nationwide gang.

I glared at her in silence, then said, “I have to go.”

“Of course you do.”

“I mean right now.”

“And I mean a little later.”

“So that’s how you’re going to play it?”

“If I do, what will you do about it?”

She answered calmly, poking at the fire.

“I was like you once. I struggled with everything I had to save even one person. I risked my life to shave off a few moments.”

“Not anymore?”

“Who knows.”

There was something hollow in her answer.

She watched the fire slowly come back to life, lost in thought as though remembering long ago. Then she spoke.

“I’ve learned one small thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That my impatience was driving me further into danger.”

“…”

“I gave every moment my best, but the results still fell short. There wasn’t even time to sit back and enjoy a meal or a cup of tea. I had to kill people and watch others die. Even after I discovered the inner demon that had taken root deep in my heart, that didn’t change.”

The eyes she fixed on the campfire glowed red, like the flames of the wars she had witnessed so many times long ago.

“I don’t like the word ‘fate.’ If everything happens as it was always going to, no matter how hard we struggle, then what does our struggle mean? But…”

Crackle. Fwoosh.

The fire swelled as it came back to life. Beyond the drifting sparks, the Bow Saint looked at me, her gaze deep and steady.

“If something can’t be stopped even by someone who’s run without rest for seven whole days and nights… Then yes. That, surely, is fate.”

I gritted my teeth.

And I felt my body, drenched in exhaustion like a waterlogged cotton rag.

I knew she was right.

To me, fate was the shittiest word in the world. Even so, there were times when I had no choice but to admit it existed.

I was only human, after all. Not an all-knowing, all-powerful god.

“I had a dream. A nightmare.”

The cracked voice that came from my mouth sounded like someone else’s. My back had been damp from the moment I woke—not with morning dew, but with cold sweat.

“When I finally got there… everyone was dead. Every last one of them. Not a single exception.”

“Is that so?”

My voice trembled. The Bow Saint’s remained calm.

“You must have been terribly sad.”

I shook my head.

It wasn’t sadness. It was despair—despair that seemed to punch through the earth and plunge deep beneath it.

Even now that I was awake, I could still see them before me, all of them horribly dead.

“That’s why I have to go. Before it’s too late. As soon as possible.”

At first, I’d thought this was just a game. Nothing more than data made by bespectacled developers in black turtlenecks or plaid shirts.

But before long, I’d learned the truth. This was another world, and the people in it were individuals with feelings and wills of their own.

So I’d opened my heart to them.

To the Lesser Family Head of the Jin Family of Taiyuan, who firmly believed I was his own flesh and blood. To the young gate guard who’d picked a fight with me the moment we met, looking at me like he couldn’t stand the sight of me.

And to the deranged old man who’d wandered the world searching for the Disciple who remained his final regret and lingering attachment.

The sincerity they’d shown me had gathered in my heart until it overflowed.

Another friend and comrade. A Master and family.

When I closed my eyes, the faces and names of everyone I’d met rose out of the darkness.

That was why I had to run, even if it meant wringing every last bit of strength from this tired, impatient body.

Just as I have for the past seven days and nights.

I’d given it everything I had.

I’d crossed rugged mountains that even seasoned hunters avoided. Rather than waste time waiting for a boat, I’d burned through an enormous amount of internal energy to cross a river using Rising on Duckweed, Crossing Water.

That was how I’d made it here. To this place.

Only about two days to Taiyuan now.

I might already have overtaken the imperial messengers or the messenger eagles. I’d abandoned even the fine horse the Son of Heaven had given me, seeking the fastest route and running day and night without rest.

But those two short days were also enough time for the nightmare I’d had today to become reality.

I can’t let that happen.

I curled my hand into a tight fist. My nails dug into my flesh, and I felt hot blood well up.

The Bow Saint had been watching me in silence. Just then, she spoke.

“Strange.”

“What do you mean…?”

“You treasure them beyond measure, yet you don’t trust them at all.”

“…”

“Sometimes you need to trust them. They aren’t as weak as you think, or so easily uprooted.”

My whole body stiffened. For a moment I was at a loss for words, and then the Bow Saint’s voice continued in my ear.

“Of course, you can do a great deal. You could shatter a boulder weighing ten thousand geun² with one hand, and split a river with the other. But what if it were a mountain instead of a boulder? An ocean instead of a river? Would you just quietly bear it alone, like Yu Gong long ago?”

Yu Gong. The foolish old man who had tried to bring down a vast mountain by digging out its earth and carrying away its stones.

In the end, the Jade Emperor was moved by his devotion and helped him achieve his goal. Yu Gong hadn’t done it through his own strength and effort alone.

“What if the countless people who heard Yu Gong’s story hadn’t laughed at him for being a fool, but had joined forces to help him?”

I didn’t answer, but I thought to myself:

With their help, the old man would have achieved his goal in the end. Not through the Jade Emperor, but through the people who believed in him and followed him.

Through all of them.

Ah.

Something stirred in a corner of my heart. I looked down at my hands, smudged with dirt here and there.

As the Bow Saint had said, I had tremendous power. I could crush a huge boulder with a single punch, or split a small river for a short while with one palm.

But even that wasn’t nearly enough to move a mountain or an ocean.

The same was true of the disaster looming over Shanxi Province. To clear away the dark clouds filling the sky, I needed everyone’s help.

“Let me ask you something.”

Her gaze was calm, yet somehow warm. She looked at me like a grandmother gently chiding her young grandson.

“Which do you believe in—Heaven or people?”

Instead of answering, I looked east, where light was slowly spreading.

Then I spoke.

“Do you happen to know what the Jade Emperor looks like?”

“What?”

“I’m a suspicious sort. I can’t really put my faith in someone I haven’t seen with my own eyes.”

“…”

The Bow Saint blinked at my unexpected answer. Then she caught my meaning and let out a quiet laugh.

“The Daoists would be horrified if they heard you.”

“That’s all right. The man behind me may not be the Jade Emperor, but he’s at least Yama³.”

Shff.

A deliberately loud footstep.

I turned and saw Yama³ himself—no, Jeok Cheongang—standing there with a frown.

Thump.

Jeok Cheongang set down a large deer, who knew where he’d caught it, and spoke.

“You cheeky brat. I leave for a moment, and you call me Yama³?”

His tone was gruff and his brow deeply furrowed. But the corner of his mouth was twitching—a sure sign he was hiding a smile.

He’d plainly heard my conversation with the Bow Saint. Pretending otherwise, he asked, “Enough. Spare me the excuses. How about some meat for a change?”

Meat, when every second mattered.

I glanced toward the thick woods to the north, then answered with a faint smile.

“Sounds good.”

I wasn’t Yu Gong. I was Jin Taekyung.

And now, I trusted them. All of them.

Don’t die. Not a single one of you.

I spoke the words in my heart, where none of them could hear, and sat down by the campfire.

My first proper rest in seven days and nights.

I had to save all the strength I could for the two days still ahead.