Chapter 248: When Are You Going to Kill Me?
Chapter 248: When Are You Going to Kill Me?
After leaving the Demon Buddha’s residence, Geom Mu-yang walked slowly through the Inner Court of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
He observed the buildings one by one as he passed. Despite living here his entire life, he realized he had never truly looked at them closely before.
The warriors standing guard greeted him politely. When Geom Mu-yang actually acknowledged their salutations, the guards exchanged puzzled glances. He had always been a man in a hurry, never once pausing to return a greeting until now.
Wandering through the Inner Court in this reflective state, Geom Mu-yang eventually arrived at the Eastern Fist Sect.
Despite the late hour, the Fist Demon was still awake. Following a guide, Geom Mu-yang was led to the edge of a towering cliff.
Standing before the precipice, the Fist Demon spoke without turning around.
"I intend to bring this cliff down with a single strike. That is my dream."
Geom Mu-yang looked up. The massive wall of rock was so tall its peak was lost in the night sky, its sheer scale seemingly mocking the very idea of destruction. He felt that even for a master like the Fist Demon, such a feat was impossible.
"If it is you, Lord Fist Demon, I am certain you will achieve it."
Only then did the Fist Demon turn to face him.
"I greet the Lord Fist Demon," Mu-yang said, bowing.
"First Young Master. Come in."
Every time he saw the Fist Demon’s terrifying visage—a face so fierce it made the demonic statues of the Cult look welcoming—Geom Mu-yang felt an instinctive surge of fear.
"I apologize for the late visit."
"It is fine. I was awake for the late-night training anyway."
Surprisingly, the Fist Demon was still personally overseeing the nightly sessions. Although Geom Mu-geuk had been unable to attend since his return to the Cult, Lee An and Cheon So-hui had been consistent.
Initially, the Fist Demon had only attended to avoid looking like he was slacking off just because Mu-geuk was absent. Lately, however, he hadn't missed a single session because of Cheon So-hui.
He hadn't thought much of it when Mu-geuk first mentioned her, but as time passed, he realized her talent and character were more than sufficient for her to become the next Fist Demon. He had even begun giving her private instruction during the breaks.
Truthfully, the Fist Demon found these sessions enjoyable. It might have been the company of two bright young women, or perhaps it was Cheon So-hui’s absolute respect and Lee An’s occasional, unexpected jokes that made him laugh. For a man who had spent his life dedicated to the path of the fist, this small group had become a precious reprieve.
"So, what brings you here?"
The Fist Demon could sense it. The mere fact that Mu-yang had come at this hour meant he was standing on the precipice of a major decision.
"You are the only one among the Demon Lords who has officially declared support for me."
"I am not a man who breaks his word."
"Would you have made that promise if you had met Mu-geuk first?"
The Fist Demon stared intensely at Geom Mu-yang. Still unnerved by that gaze, Mu-yang lowered his head slightly.
"If that were the case, I would have declared my support for the Second Young Master."
Geom Mu-yang actually preferred the blunt honesty. It was because he knew the Fist Demon was this kind of man that he had sought him out.
"What kind of person is Mu-geuk, really?"
"Wouldn't you, his own brother, know that best?"
"No. I don't think I know him at all."
The Fist Demon turned back toward the cliff.
"I told the Second Young Master the same thing I told you just now—that my dream is to collapse this cliff."
Geom Mu-yang was curious. "How did he respond?"
"He said he wanted to collapse it as well."
In that moment, Geom Mu-yang felt a pang of realization. To the Fist Demon, that had been the only correct answer.
"Perhaps the one to finally bring this cliff down will be the Second Young Master. Your brother is that kind of man."
It was these small differences—these minor discrepancies in spirit—that had accumulated to create the vast chasm between himself and Geom Mu-geuk.
"Could those words not have been a lie? Could he not have said that just to curry favor?"
The words were pathetic, and Mu-yang knew it, but he laid his heart bare.
"Of course, that is possible."
"Then why did you believe him?"
The Fist Demon understood Mu-yang’s turmoil. If even the Demon Lords were being swept up by Mu-geuk’s momentum, there was no way the young Mu-yang could withstand it.
"Because the Second Young Master proved it through action. He came to the Eastern Fist Sect and worked his way up from the White Fist to the Black Fist."
"With Mu-geuk’s martial arts, that wouldn't have been difficult!"
To the agitated Mu-yang, the Fist Demon asked calmly, "If it was such an easy task, why didn't you do it?"
"..."
Geom Mu-yang had no answer. He knew the Fist Demon wasn't talking about raw strength. He was talking about the weight of action, and how belief only gains strength when followed by deeds.
The Fist Demon’s gaze returned to the rock wall. After a long silence, Mu-yang asked one last thing.
"May I ask one more question?"
"Go ahead."
"Do you believe the Cult would be better off if Mu-geuk became the Heavenly Demon?"
"Why ask me that?"
"Because I felt you would give me the most honest answer of all the Demon Lords."
The Fist Demon fell into thought. He knew his answer would change Mu-yang’s life forever. Nevertheless, he spoke the truth.
"Before I answer, know this: regardless of what I say, my official position as your supporter remains unchanged."
"Thank you."
The Fist Demon looked Mu-yang in the eye, his voice devoid of apology.
"I find myself looking forward to a Heavenly Demon Divine Cult led by the Second Young Master."
It was a cruel answer, but an honest one. The words struck Mu-yang’s chest like a physical weight.
"Thank you for your honesty."
Geom Mu-yang bowed politely, his voice trembling, and turned to leave. Before he vanished into the night, he looked up at the cliff one last time. Even now, he couldn't even begin to imagine it falling.
Watching his retreating back, the Fist Demon turned and headed toward the training grounds. He offered no words of comfort or encouragement.
The cliffs given to each individual were meant to be scaled alone.
*
My brother came to find me.
Dressed in his martial robes with his sword strapped to his waist under the moonlight, he looked different than usual.
He spoke abruptly. "Let's fight."
I knew what this was. He wanted to decide the succession here and now. He had come even though he knew he would lose.
"Fine. I've wanted to beat you up for a long time anyway."
"I'm not joking."
"Neither am I. You're the wicked older brother who tried to traumatize his younger brother just to keep him from becoming a martial artist. You deserve a few hits, don't you?"
"If you've held a grudge for that long, then by all means."
"Don't act like it's no big deal."
"Even so, I'm not going to apologize."
As if by unspoken agreement, we didn't mention the succession. We acted as if we were simply settling an old score.
My brother drew his sword, and I drew mine. Aside from childhood sparring, this was the first time we had ever pointed naked steel at one another.
Flying Heaven Sword Technique versus Flying Heaven Sword Technique.
My brother was at the Ten-Star Great Achievement stage; I had reached the Twelve-Star. Even without that gap, the difference in experience, intuition, and internal energy was so vast that he stood no chance.
I didn't go easy on him. However, instead of subduing him instantly, I let him cycle through every form he knew.
"Be careful. I'm really coming for you," he warned.
He unleashed the First Form: Balanced Heaven Form.
Swoooosh!
A streak of sword light flew out to cleave me in two, but my own Balanced Heaven Form was faster and more oppressive.
Boom!
Seeing his opening move dissipated so easily, my brother’s face paled. He desperately unleashed the Second Form, but again, a more powerful version of the same technique neutralized it.
Third Form, Fourth Form...
As the exchange continued, my brother’s despair deepened. He must have known I was stronger, but he hadn't realized the gap was an ocean.
The Blood Heaven Blade Demon had been right. Crushing him completely was the kindest path. I revealed the full extent of my skill, forcing him to feel the weight of total defeat.
I wanted him to understand. I wanted him to see that losing the succession wasn't a matter of bad luck or regret—it was a natural, inevitable outcome. I wanted to kill any lingering "what ifs" in his heart.
My brother was staring at a wall. A wall even higher and more immovable than the cliff the Fist Demon watched.
When the sword techniques failed, my brother charged like a madman, swinging wildly. He had come knowing he would lose, but as the reality of it set in, he became desperate.
I want to be the successor!
But desperation couldn't bridge the gap in our souls.
Clang!
His sword was knocked from his grip, spinning away to clatter on the ground. After staring at his empty hand in a daze, my brother glared at me.
"Actually, I was planning to beat you with my fists."
"Then do it! Real men speak with their fists!" I sheathed the Black Demonic Sword and grinned. "But what are you going to do? I'm the Fist Demon’s disciple."
"...Don't use any techniques."
I laughed loudly. The fact that he could still say something so ridiculous was a good sign.
Fine, brother. I'll give you the beating you've earned.
We clashed. Whether it was swordsmanship, fist techniques, or a common brawl—how could he possibly win?
Thud! Crack!
My fists landed on his face and body. This was punishment for the fear he had injected into me for the sake of his own greed. We had to settle the grudge.
Thud! Thwack!
These were fists meant to forgive him.
Even as he was being pummeled, my brother never used his internal energy to strike a lethal blow. He could have tried to kill me by taking advantage of an opening, but he didn't. He didn't even try.
This was why I wanted to keep him alive. This was why I needed him by my side. Our father must have seen it long ago—the core of the man my brother really was.
Just before my brother, drained of strength, was about to collapse—
Thwack!
His fist landed squarely on my jaw.
I let him hit me. Perhaps there was some lingering guilt in my heart as well. If I hadn't regressed, he would have been the successor.
But brother, me becoming the successor is for your sake, too. Let's just stay alive in this life. Whether we're close or we bicker until we're old, let's just survive.
The fight that wasn't quite a fight ended. Having landed the final blow, my brother laughed with exhaustion and flopped backward onto the grass.
Huff, huff, huff...
His ragged breathing said everything. Slowly, the sound quieted. I lay down beside him, looking up at the stars.
Still staring at the sky, my brother asked, "Can you do a good job?"
He might have been hoping for a 'no,' or perhaps he was hoping I’d tell him to take the position after all.
"I'll do it better than any Heavenly Demon in history."
"Dammit!" my brother shouted. "Aaaaaaaaah!"
He screamed at the top of his lungs, a fit of pure desperation. Many in the Cult would hear that cry—the cry that signaled the end of his ambitions and the start of mine.
When he finished, he let out a long, heavy sigh. He exhaled every last bit of lingering attachment with that breath.
"You really have to do well."
"I will."
"The successor of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult acting all playful and cheeky... you can't do that anymore."
"That's just because you haven't seen me when I'm serious. You'll probably end up begging me to tell a joke just to lighten the mood."
"Don't you dare."
"Got it."
My brother had completely let go. That was why his next question was so sincere.
"When are you going to kill me? Just... make sure to give me time to settle my affairs first."
"Why is your head filled with such dark thoughts? If my darkness was your fault, who planted yours?"
"You're the one who's strange."
He had given up everything, but there was no need for that. I needed him.
"You have to help me from now on."
"Don't say useless things."
"I'm serious. I don't need a puppet. I don't need a broken, depressed brother. I need my real brother."
I stood up first and reached out a hand to him.
After I deal with Hwa Mu-gi, I might even give the position to you. I don't know what the future holds. So, brother, take my hand.
My brother didn't take it at first. He sat up on his own, wiping a nosebleed. "This is embarrassing."
"Be proud. You have a brother who's a killer, don't you?"
"I want to kill you. Truly."
And then, my brother reached out. He offered his hand for me to pull him up.
The moment I saw that outstretched hand, my heart swelled. There was so much I wanted to say that I found I couldn't say anything at all. I gripped his hand tightly. I could feel him gripping mine back with equal strength.
I pulled him up vigorously.
He stared at me for a moment, then raised a bruised fist. "If you don't act like a proper successor from now on, I'm hitting you again."
I looked at him and laughed. It was the first time I had laughed because I genuinely liked him.
"Can I call you if someone bullies me?"
"You crazy bastard."
My brother started walking toward the Heavenly Demon Hall first. I had told Father I would bring him, but now, my brother was leading the way.
The demonic practitioners on guard were startled. In the dead of night, the two brothers were walking side by side, both with battered, swollen faces.
"Shouldn't we wash up before seeing Father?" I asked.
"No. We have to go like this so he knows what an atrocious younger brother you are for beating up your senior."
Then, my brother added quietly, "Make sure to tell me in advance when you're going to kill me... and if someone bullies you, definitely tell me."
A gust of wind blew, fluttering our robes. It was a wind announcing a new beginning.