Chapter 135: Are You Never Going to Fight in a Tavern Your Whole Life?
Chapter 135: Are You Never Going to Fight in a Tavern Your Whole Life?
“How did you get here?”
In response to my question, Father gave his usual, nonchalant answer.
“I was just passing by.”
Hardly. Father kept precise track of the Demon Lords’ movements; he must have come after hearing that I was meeting four of them in one place.
What had he been thinking when he arrived? How much had he seen and heard?
Though I had grown much closer to Father, I wasn't yet at the level where I could ask such sensitive questions without hesitation.
“It was my first time sitting down with four Demon Lords at once,” I remarked.
“How was it?”
“If you hadn't shown up, Father, I certainly would have sought you out the moment I left the tavern. I would have asked how I should face and handle the Demon Lords in the future. Ah, I really shouldn't let it become a habit—seeking answers from you every time I feel frustrated.”
Normally, Father would have just snorted at my half-sincere, half-flattering lament, but for some reason, he offered a word of advice today. It was something that truly resonated with me.
“You can worry about that in ten years or so.”
“Will you keep putting up with me for the next ten years?”
Father’s snort came at that exact moment.
“Did you not realize it would be this difficult?”
“I didn't.”
“You were making such a fuss about establishing discipline that I thought you knew everything.”
“If I had known, I wouldn't have said those things. How they appear from the outside is one thing, but how they treat me and how they act when entangled with others is something else entirely.”
I intentionally played up my struggles. Father was the type to enjoy himself more the more I floundered.
“You’re right. I’m pathetically weak.”
“At least you’ve improved a lot compared to before.”
Back when I first regressed and went hunting with Father, things were very different than they are now.
While we talked, a modest spread of drinks and snacks was prepared. Father ordered a simple vegetable stir-fry and the strongest liquor available at the Pungryu Tavern. Jo Chun-bae must have used every ounce of his skill to sauté those vegetables.
“Let’s have a drink.”
I shared a cup with Father.
“Ugh, it’s strong.”
“You fearlessly drink with the Drunken Demon, yet you’re intimidated by a little rotgut like this?”
“He seemed like a decent person, didn't he?”
“It’s a miracle you’re still alive with such poor judgment of character.”
I wondered how Father perceived the Drunken Demon. “What kind of person is he, really?”
“He is a man who toys with his opponents while laughing and enjoying himself. Therefore, it is best not to open his wine gourd recklessly.”
“They say the elders are never wrong; the Blood Heaven Blade Demon also told me to be careful of him, calling him a devious man.”
“As if he isn't devious himself,” Father muttered.
I burst into laughter. I made a mental note to use that to tease the Blood Heaven Blade Demon the next time I saw him.
I poured Father another drink and asked, “Have you ever drank alone with the Drunken Demon?”
“I have.”
“How does he act around you, Father?”
“He doesn't say much to me.”
“That talkative Drunken Demon?”
That was unexpected. I had imagined him being even more boisterous in front of Father.
“Is it because he knows he can't toy with you?”
“Who knows? How can one know what goes on inside that man’s head?”
“That makes me even more curious.”
“Things that are poisonous are naturally flamboyant,” Father warned. He was telling me not to be deluded by the Drunken Demon’s persona. “Do not try to delve into a person’s inner thoughts. Just judge them by what they reveal. That leads to fewer mistakes.”
“Yes. I will keep that in mind.”
I emptied my glass with Father. As I refilled it, I asked him another question.
“What do you talk about when you drink with my brother?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Just curious. Are you teaching him all my weaknesses?”
“Your weaknesses are obvious to anyone. Why would I need to point them out?”
“And what are my weaknesses?”
“That cheap sentimentality of yours. It's perfect for getting yourself killed.”
I laughed pleasantly.
“I consider that my strength. I’d rather go through this life as enjoyably as possible. The path ahead is long and treacherous anyway. Instead of just threatening, binding, and killing... let’s try to make it interesting.”
“Do you think 'fun' suits our line of work? You’ll die looking for fun.”
Father, I’m allowed to look for a little bit of it. Not a single moment goes by where Hwa Mu-gi isn't in my head. I can't sleep even when I lie down. I keep seeing myself dying at his hands again, so I jump up and run to the training ground.
“You should try to live a bit more joyfully too, Father.”
“The moment the Heavenly Demon’s authority and fear vanish, those people will come to strike us down, brandishing their pathetic 'chivalry.'”
It suddenly occurred to me that Father might be losing sleep in his own way. I shouldn't let myself be fooled by his floral pajamas.
“I will strive to become stronger.”
“You should have been strong already. Only then would today’s meeting with the Demon Lords have had any meaning.”
“In that sense, please teach me a lesson.”
Since my last sparring session with Father, I had achieved further progress. Sparring with him now would provide the stimulation I needed for my martial studies.
Father stood up and moved to the open space beside the table.
“Here?” I asked.
“Are you never going to fight in a tavern your whole life?”
“It’s not that... but if we fight in this cramped space, everything will be destroyed.”
Then, Father said something unexpected.
“Who fights like a novice, smashing everything in sight? Whoever breaks even a single thing loses.”
He meant we should fight without damaging a single item in the room.
I looked around. The second floor was narrower than the first, the ceiling was lower, and it was packed with tables and chairs. Sparring with Father here without breaking anything? Truly, this would be the most difficult duel I had ever faced.
I looked down at the first floor. Since Father had arrived, the patrons had been sent out and the doors closed. Only Jo Chun-bae remained.
“Innkeeper, go into the kitchen for a moment,” I called out.
“Yes!”
“Do not be alarmed, no matter what happens!”
“I’ve been so alarmed today that I don't have enough heart left to be shocked anymore!” Jo Chun-bae scurried away.
I stood facing Father, three or four paces apart.
“Did you say it was difficult?”
“Yes.”
“That is because you are weak.”
As Father released his aura, it became hard to breathe. His pressure, which even the Heavenly Demon Body Protection Art struggled to withstand, was as heavy as Mount Tai, as stifling as a swamp, and as sharp as a blade.
Father slowly drew the Heavenly Demon Sword.
“The Heavenly Demon must be a person who can kill whenever he wishes. The only reason an opponent remains alive before me is because I allowed them to live.”
Clang!
The Heavenly Demon Sword and the Black Demonic Sword clashed in mid-air. The speed was the same as usual, but the power behind the blades was perfectly restrained.
Clang!
The swords collided again. I could tell—Father was speaking through the power infused in his sword.
This strength is the standard.
As if tuning an instrument, he was telling me to fight using exactly this much power. This wasn't a fight where you lost because you were weaker; it was a fight where you lost if you failed to control your own strength.
Clang!
The tuning lasted only three exchanges.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!
The Heavenly Demon Sword and the Black Demonic Sword clashed brilliantly.
I swung my sword using only the agreed-upon strength. Since every form originally had its own required power, ignoring that and fighting only with this specific level of output required immense concentration.
In this moment, I did not place any restrictions on my skill. Since my regression, I had limited myself in every fight, thinking: I should only show this much.
But now, I fought without such hesitation. I felt certain that I could show my true strength.
You told me not to trust people, but I trust you, Father—at least.
I fought to my heart's content, and I fought freely. It was a duel possible only because it was with him. The more we fought, the faster my body adapted.
Then, Father raised the stakes.
Now, it wasn't just about not breaking things; it became a fight where we couldn't even touch an object.
I had to weave between tables and chairs to avoid Father’s attacks without so much as brushing against them. I exerted the highest level of concentration I could muster.
The clashes were beautiful. The sword lines created between the furniture were like the brushstrokes of a master artist; the sound of clashing blades erupting between wine bottles was like the sorrowful lament of an old musician. Sometimes paper would tear, or the strings of an instrument would snap from the sheer pressure.
The fight grew more intense, and the restrictions grew tighter.
In the final stage, we fought while protecting the lanterns hanging on the walls. We had to block the wind generated by our own swords so the flames wouldn't flicker out.
And then, at one point—
Swoosh!
Father’s sword qi flew toward me. It was released with perfectly restrained power. If his internal energy had been fully loaded, this single move would have leveled the tavern.
Sword qi also flew from my Black Demonic Sword. My strike, imbued with the same restrained energy, neutralized his in mid-air.
Pang!
As a gust of wind threatened to blow out a lamp, I threw my body to block it. The flame flickered precariously but stayed lit.
Sword qi flew in rapid succession. If I missed even one, it would destroy the wall. Would the one who fired it lose? No. In this scenario, the one who failed to intercept it was the loser.
I fought Father in a state of near-trance.
There were so many sounds: the rhythm of footsteps, the whistling wind, the hiss of swords cutting air, the ring of clashing blades, the release and neutralization of sword qi, the fluttering of sleeves, the crackle of the lanterns. Each and every sound was imbued with the essence of martial arts.
I would definitely be able to reconstruct this duel in my mind. I didn't need to memorize it intentionally. Every form was perfect, and the situation was desperate. Because it was a sequence of moves I could never forget, this fight would serve as a source of learning for a long time to come.
When the sparring ended, we sheathed our swords simultaneously. The Heavenly Demon Sword and the Black Demonic Sword entered their scabbards at the same time with a satisfying click.
Looking around, not a single chair had been overturned. There wasn't a single scratch on the walls.
“It’s a draw!” I declared.
“No, you lost.”
Father walked over and held up a chopstick container sitting on a table in front of me. The tips of the chopsticks inside had been sliced off.
“Ah, that’s a mark from my sword qi grazing it. When did you even see that?”
I checked the chopstick container on the table where Father had been standing and let out a sigh.
“I lost!”
I lost, but it didn't feel like a defeat. Father looked truly impressed by my skill.
“When I heard the news that you and the Extreme Evil had killed Baek Mang-gi, I suspected as much—that you had achieved a great breakthrough.”
He probably hadn't expected it to be to this extent. Father had certainly been stimulated by our exchange.
“What should I do now?” I asked. I was asking for the path—where my martial arts should head next. I asked the only person who could give me that answer.
“From now on, devote yourself entirely to training the Wind God Four Steps.”
That was the conclusion Father reached. And there was a reason for it.
“I stopped training the Wind God Four Steps,” Father admitted.
“Why did you stop?” I asked, startled.
“I hit a wall.”
“If you hit a limit, Father, then I’ll never be able to surpass it.”
Father stared at me for a moment, then shook his head.
“Even if I couldn't, you can achieve Great Achievement.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is a wall created because of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art. I could not reach Great Achievement in the Wind God Four Steps because I had already learned the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.”
“Ah!”
I understood. Compatibility existed in martial arts as well. Some techniques simply didn't match, and in some cases, one could not reach the peak of a skill depending on what they had learned first.
“If you do not reach Great Achievement before learning the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, you will never be able to achieve it afterward.”
“I will make sure to reach Great Achievement before then.”
If I mastered the Wind God Four Steps, it would combine with the Twelve-Star Stage Flying Heaven Sword Technique to reach a new level of power. Later, when combined with the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, the effect would be even greater.
Father gazed at me for a moment and asked, “Is it still difficult?”
“I’ve gained confidence thanks to your teaching.”
“Do you still intend to be a 'pleasant' Heavenly Demon?”
“I want to live with a smile.”
Father stared at me, then turned away without a word. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he spoke indifferently, as if tossing the words over his shoulder.
“Come by for a game of Go when you have time.”
Jo Chun-bae, who had been hiding under the counter, bowed so deeply his waist folded, then looked up at me.
“Don't worry, nothing was broken.”
Isn't the Demonic Path I pursue the kind that tavern owners all over the world would love most?
Jo Chun-bae let out a sigh of relief. “So this long day finally ends.”
*
Jo Chun-bae’s day was over, but mine was not.
I went to see the Blood Heaven Blade Demon. He was sitting by the window, reading a book. I thought he might be swinging his blade in anger, but he was calmer than I expected.
“You’re not practicing today,” I noted.
“Why are you here?”
“I came because I wanted to see you, Elder.”
Before bringing up the tavern incident, I handed him a gift.
“What is this?”
“It’s a tonic.”
“A tonic?” The Blood Heaven Blade Demon looked startled.
“You look thinner than when I first met you. This medicine will stimulate your appetite and nourish your body. I pestered the Demon Doctor for it, so you can trust its effectiveness.”
The Blood Heaven Blade Demon was flustered—even more so than when I had given him the Poison-Repelling Pearl as a birthday present.
“Give it to the Cult Leader instead.”
“He’s the type of person who would suspect I poisoned it and tell me to eat it all in front of him.”
The Blood Heaven Blade Demon burst into laughter at my joke—which wasn't entirely a joke. I lowered my voice to a whisper.
“Actually, this is something Father takes, but I pestered the Demon Doctor to get some for you. You know how much my father takes care of his health, right? So don't worry and just take it.”
As I was walking out, the Blood Heaven Blade Demon called out from behind me, “Why are you being so good to me?”
I turned back. “I’m being good to you because you’re good to me. I’m being good to you because I believe you’ll be more helpful than the other three Demon Lords combined. I can be quite selfish and calculating too, you know. Well, get some sleep. And make sure to take the medicine. I’ll be checking in through Investigator Seo!”
I gave a polite bow as he stared at me with thoughtful eyes, then I turned away.
You have to do things when you can; if you don't act when the thought occurs to you, there might not be a next time.
Finally, my long day was over. The intoxication finally began to catch up with me.