Duty (3)

As soon as he closed the hut’s door and stepped out, Han Cheol-sang came walking over, dusting off his hands.

Judging by how dirt-covered his hands were, he had buried Go Ak’s corpse.

Jin-hyeon clicked his tongue.

“Burying again?”

Han Cheol-sang grumbled as if it was absurd.

“Is that what you should be saying? I’m cleaning up after you, Patriarch.”

“You came up late. You buried all of them?”

“I dug a hole and tossed them in. With mountains this fine, how can we leave piles of chopped-up corpses lying around.”

“You’re buying yourself trouble.”

“What choice do I have? There were too many bodies to just leave them. If an epidemic breaks out, it’ll be a headache for a lot of people.”

Jin-hyeon smiled.

“Who would’ve thought the man called the Mad Demon was this meticulous.”

Han Cheol-sang flinched without meaning to.

He still hadn’t told the details of his story. Yet Jin-hyeon said “Mad Demon” like it was nothing, and it made it awkward and unfamiliar.

‘It isn’t a nickname you can dismiss as nothing.’

A nickname soaked in the stench of blood became a yoke that was hard to erase. No matter how close you were, it wasn’t easy to say it out loud.

But Jin-hyeon did, and Han Cheol-sang was only surprised. He wasn’t offended.

“So how was it, seeing the Supreme Patriarch after so long?”

He expected him to say it was nothing.

“It left me… conflicted.”

“Why?”

“I heard he stopped eating the moment he learned I’d gone missing.”

“…”

He treated me sincerely even back then. But I didn’t think he’d truly regard me like blood kin.

“I see.”

Jin-hyeon shook his head.

“Either way, now isn’t the time for that. I need to go get the Patriarch’s Treasure.”

“Where is it?”

“Mount Qingcheng’s Daoling Palace. He said it was entrusted to a Daoist named Songpungja.”

Han Cheol-sang’s eyes gleamed.

“Daoling Palace…”

“I’ve heard a lot too. The Supreme Patriarch donated large sums every quarter for things like driving off evil.”

Jin-hyeon cocked his head.

“But as far as I know, Daoling Palace is a Daoist hall that has no interest in the secular world.”

Many people knew Daoling Palace as a Daoist hall with deep history, and its actual standing was considerable.

Long ago, Mount Qingcheng was where Zhang Daoling, who realized the Dao of immortals, spent his later years. After Zhang Daoling, Daoist thought that explored the root of the world became religion and became Taoism.

Among them, Daoling Palace was a Daoist hall formed by Daoists who gathered to study the secret texts and insights Zhang Daoling left behind. Breathing methods for nourishing life, elixir methods, and the like developed there.

In other words, Daoling Palace was the place closest to the source of countless Daoist sects today. Some called it the Celestial Masters Cult or the Shangqing Sect, but the Daoists themselves called it Daoling Palace.

Jin-hyeon rubbed his chin and sank into thought.

‘The Eight Wastes Alliance Leader did take interest in Daoling Palace for a time.’

There was no other reason. Most sects that didn’t surrender fought the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader, but a tiny few abandoned their bases and fled to Daoling Palace and Emei’s Golden Summit Temple.

The Eight Wastes Alliance Leader tried to capture them all and force them to kneel, but soon gave up. Daoling Palace and Golden Summit Temple were places of comfort for the people of Sichuan.

Not only the people of Murim but common folk visited often, so it was difficult to lay a hand on. The Eight Wastes Alliance Leader was ruthless, but at least toward common folk, he showed as much leniency as he could.

‘I heard there are quite a few strong martial masters too, but they almost never show themselves in the secular world.’

More than anything, he had confidence enough to ignore even however many masters might be there.

Even then, the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader’s force was close to the strongest in the Central Plains. Sending only a few of the organizations that followed him would make it easy to turn a mountain into ashes.

If they became enemies, he would erase them. If they didn’t draw blades, he would leave them as Daoist halls and temples that purified Sichuan’s ravaged air. That was his judgment.

“Well. I don’t know whether they care about the secular world or not.”

Han Cheol-sang scratched his head.

“My master said Daoling Palace and Golden Summit Temple are crawling with nasty monsters.”

“Nasty monsters?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a Daoist hall and a temple.”

“I mean from a Murim person’s perspective. Golden Summit Temple has so many nuns that it’s closed off, but Daoling Palace is different. I heard there are many mountain eccentrics there who don’t fall behind even the Nine Sects’ masters.”

Jin-hyeon’s eyes gleamed.

He didn’t know much about the Shindo Sect, but at least he knew it was a sect that included descendants of the Life-Snatching Demon Lord and the Blood-Saber Demon Lord.

If the man who taught Life-Snatching and Blood-Saber secret arts came from a place like that, he wouldn’t be an ordinary master. If a master like that praised them this highly, Jin-hyeon needed to adjust his understanding of Daoling Palace.

“Either way, I’m only going to retrieve the Patriarch’s Treasure. How strong those Daoists are is a later problem.”

“That’s true.”

Han Cheol-sang glanced at the hut.

“And the Supreme Patriarch?”

“He’s sleeping. He looked exhausted.”

“Then I’ll guard this place.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Patriarch.”

“What?”

Han Cheol-sang scanned Mount Qingcheng’s terrain with a dark expression.

“Be careful. I have a bad feeling.”

Jin-hyeon’s expression turned strange.

“Brother Han.”

“Yes.”

“When this is all over, can I see your true strength?”

“You’ve already seen it.”

“You know what I mean.”

Han Cheol-sang’s face, smiling at Jin-hyeon, slowly hardened.

There was certainty on the Patriarch’s face. There was no need to deny it, and even if he did, it didn’t look like Jin-hyeon would believe it.

“How long have you known?”

“Since the first time I saw you.”

“…”

“You already know, the kind of life I lived, and what martial arts I’ve learned.”

Han Cheol-sang watched Jin-hyeon in silence, then let out a light sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to hide it on purpose. And it isn’t power I can handle carelessly right now.”

“I know.”

“…”

“You probably sensed it too, but my road ahead is going to get rougher than I thought. If you’re going with me, you should learn to handle that power properly.”

“…Is that so?”

“I’ll be back.”

Before the words even finished, Jin-hyeon’s body flew to the left peak.

Han Cheol-sang gave a light whistle.

‘It really is an incredible martial art.’

Attainment aside, the martial art itself was incredible. That movement art was astonishing no matter how many times he saw it.

‘Eight Wastes Martial Arts…’

Leaning his back against the hut, Han Cheol-sang looked up at the sky.

In the sea of stars, one star glittered especially bright. People called that star Heavenly Wolf Star.

“If that old man had founded a cult, he would’ve hit it big.”

Somewhere along the way, he had come to fully believe Jin-hyeon’s claim that he had merged with the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader.

Mount Qingcheng was vast, but finding Daoling Palace wasn’t difficult.

‘There it is.’

There was a place where lights glittered even at midnight. It was a Daoist hall.

Those lights formed clusters in three or four places. Pick one, ask where Daoling Palace is, and you’d get an answer easily.

Paaah!

Jin-hyeon kicked off a tree and sprang up. It was like watching a bird.

Beneath Jin-hyeon, who sprinted like a Heavenly Horse soaring on summoned wind, leafless branches screamed.

As he ran and ran, Jin-hyeon thought.

‘That doesn’t apply only to Brother Han.’

Han Cheol-sang was hiding his true strength.

More precisely, like Do Il-gang, he held latent power. But it seemed far more primal, buried deeper, and hard to bring out.

Even so, if it was Han Cheol-sang, it would be possible. The question of whether he could control it was another matter.

And the same was true for Jin-hyeon.

‘It’s different from Brother Han’s. My power is grounded entirely in experience and knowledge.’

Even now, the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader’s realizations were deepening Jin-hyeon’s realm little by little.

But those were the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader’s realizations, not Jin-hyeon’s own. They helped, but they couldn’t become everything.

He had to grow strong as himself.

The beginning was the sword.

‘Was it like this?’

Even as he unfolded his movement art, Jin-hyeon’s right hand actively cut through the air.

His hand was empty, but the moving forms followed the shape of swordplay.

‘That bastard’s spearplay left an impression.’

Jong-baek. And Song Cheol-gwang’s Eighteen Spear Blossoms.

In a single moment, eighteen spear tips burst outward like a flower in full bloom.

If he wanted to, there was nothing Jin-hyeon couldn’t attempt. What mattered was whether it would be effective against an opponent.

‘Change reached the extreme and became illusion. That was the Divine Spear Clan’s spearplay. It was more complete than the Jade Thunder Spear Art I threw out calling it a secret art. To use it in real combat…’

Pabababak!

His arm slashed the air and claimed eighteen directions in an instant.

‘It wastes strength. That’s a mnemonic issue. The motion itself isn’t that hard.’

From there, Jin-hyeon recalled Mong Hyeong’s swordplay he had studied in secret.

Mong Hyeong’s sword art that Mighty Tiger’s First Young Master, Lee Yong-geum, had used was endlessly fierce, but not messy.

A martial art cleanly established. There were openings in the forms, but it was worthy of being called first-rate. It would boast at least a hundred years of history.

Jin-hyeon’s arm moved once more.

Pararararak!!

In the whipping wind, his sleeves flapped like mad.

A hand blade that chopped at empty air in a frenzy. It resembled Mong Hyeong’s Death-Snare Ghost Sword.

‘That was a chaotic sword art. Similar to illusory swordplay, but more practical. A sword that cuts down all the enemies around you to open a path.’

Eighteen Spear Blossoms. Death-Snare Ghost Sword.

Jin-hyeon didn’t know their martial arts’ names, but by fighting them, he could grasp the essentials to a degree.

Both were worthy of being called first-rate, but it was possible because they hadn’t reached the highest realm. Martial arts refined over long years like the martial arts of the Nine Sects would be hard to grasp the essentials of even after seeing them several times.

‘No. It’s possible.’

Jin-hyeon’s eyes flashed.

‘The Eight Wastes Alliance Leader could do it. And I, who synchronized with him, could too. Even if it was his realization, the experience in those eyes is mine too. I can’t call it impossible.’

To see through an enemy’s martial art essentials at a glance.

Not because of talent bestowed by heaven, but because of the experience of an absolute being who reached the ultimate realm.

Uuuung!

The Heavenly Wolf Qi that filled his whole body slowly surged up and reached his head.

Flash!

Blue flames surged in his eyes.

‘It’s possible.’

More martial arts. More fights.

With that, he could steal the essentials of an opponent’s martial art and melt them into his own realizations to pursue a new realm.

Confidence surged. He even wondered why he was only realizing something so obvious now.

‘I can grow stronger. Faster than anyone.’

Hook!

He kicked off a thin branch, yet it didn’t break. He danced through the air soaked in cool moonlight, then landed without a sound.

“Impressive.”

A small Daoist hall was visible in the distance.

On the steps before the Daoist hall, with lamps lit here and there, a Daoist knelt with his back turned.

“A remarkable martial art. You haven’t crossed the wall yet, but you look prepared to cross it at any moment.”

Jin-hyeon silently watched the Daoist’s back.

The Daoist, kneeling and facing the hall, slowly rose.

A motion as natural as flowing water. A master.

“So you’re the source of that pleasantly ominous feeling. I don’t know who you are, but I’m truly glad to meet you.”

“I’m looking for Daoling Palace.”

At Jin-hyeon’s blunt words, the Daoist burst into laughter.

“Since you’ve come here, of course you’re looking for Daoling Palace. Then may I know why you’re coming up to Daoling Palace?”

“I came at the request of the Divine Iron Merchant House’s Supreme Patriarch. He said he entrusted the Patriarch’s Treasure to a Daoist named Songpungja of Daoling Palace, and that you aren’t the sort to lack propriety, so I could retrieve it.”

“The Patriarch’s Treasure…”

The Daoist turned his body.

Middle-aged. Smooth skin, deep eyes that left an impression.

“Are you looking for this?”

Jin-hyeon’s eyes flashed.

A misshapen dagger drawn from the Daoist’s robes.

It was the Divine Iron Merchant House’s Patriarch’s Treasure, the Incomplete Strange Sword.