A Lingering Debt
"Take care on your journey!"
"Always put your safety first, Yoo Sung."
"Be careful, son."
"Have a safe trip, Young Master."
"Uncle! Bring Soso a present!"
With his family seeing him off, Yoo Sung left the Heavenly Sword Academy alongside the other three.
Naturally, the leader of the group was the Iron Flower, Dang Hwa-young.
She took the opportunity to share the information obtained from the Beggars' Gang and explain their upcoming mission.
"Our task is to hunt down the demon cultivators plaguing the isolated villages."
Ho-sung wore a puzzled expression at her words.
"Isn't the Alliance's goal to capture the Three Demonic Fiends?"
The official pretext of the Sichuan Righteous Alliance was indeed the "Three Demonic Fiends."
Though they had already met their end at Yoo Sung's hands, those unaware of this fact were still chasing the suddenly vanished fiends.
"The Three Demonic Fiends are important, but saving people from the threat of demon cultivators is just as crucial."
Small, secluded villages in particular were perfect hiding spots for demon cultivators to practice their demonic arts in secret.
Seeing Ho-sung still looking confused and Yoo Sung remaining indifferent, Dang Hwa-young continued her explanation.
"Since you two probably don't know much about Matian, I'll give you a brief explanation."
"I'm all ears," Ho-sung replied respectfully.
Dang Hwa-young smiled and spoke.
"The demon cultivators of Matian are a bit different from ordinary ones."
"A demon cultivator is a demon cultivator. Is there really a difference?" Ho-sung asked, furrowing his brow.
Neither Dang Hwa-young nor Dang Hwa-soo blamed Ho-sung for his skepticism.
Indeed, most people thought of all demon cultivators as the same.
They, too, had once believed that.
They had thought the demon cultivators of Matian and Cheon-san were identical.
"For generations, the demon cultivators of Cheon-san have aimed to conquer the Central Plains, centered around the Heavenly Demon. They bided their time on Cheon-san, driven by the ambition to reclaim their lost glory. Other demon cultivators, however, simply pursue personal strength."
"Matian must be the same, then."
As Ho-sung said, the demon cultivators of Matian also moved with a clear purpose.
Even if that purpose was incomprehensible to others.
They did everything in their power to achieve their goals.
"For example, it's only natural to practice demonic arts to become stronger. Orthodox martial arts are safe but slow to master. On the other hand, demonic or unorthodox arts allow one to advance to the next stage rapidly. Though the side effects vary greatly, demonic and unorthodox arts prioritize efficiency."
"Once the demon cultivators of Matian resolve to grow stronger, they won't hesitate to plunge a blade into anyone to reach that goal. If the demonic art they practice requires drinking blood, they will drink the blood of their own comrades without a second thought. While the demon cultivators of Cheon-san possess at least some sense of camaraderie, those of Matian have none. They act solely as individuals, driven by their own distinct purposes."
"It's amazing they were strong enough to threaten the Murim despite that," Ho-sung remarked.
Dang Hwa-young and Dang Hwa-soo smiled bitterly at his comment.
Listening quietly to their conversation, Yoo Sung recalled Matian.
Yoo Sung had fought Matian more fiercely than anyone else.
As Dang Hwa-young said, the demon cultivators of Matian were fiercely individualistic, yet bound together by an incomprehensible, fanatical faith.
The only thing I couldn't understand was the end of the Lord of Matian.
The Lord of Matian—a powerhouse so formidable that even if all the masters of the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions banded together, victory would not be guaranteed.
Yet, he had died by Yoo Sung's hand.
But before the Lord of Matian died, Yoo Sung had noticed a massive wound on his body.
A wound not inflicted by another, but carved by his own hand.
Even in his dying moments, the Lord of Matian had remained utterly serene.
As Yoo Sung reminisced about the Lord of Matian, Dang Hwa-young continued speaking.
"In any case, our job is to provide timely aid to places that might need a helping hand. It just so happens that an unidentified demon cultivator appeared in a nearby village, causing massive casualties."
"Who discovered it first?" Dang Hwa-soo pointed out.
Dang Hwa-young sighed at her brother's question.
"The Cheonhyang Merchant Guild. They were the ones who requested help this time. I'll explain the details as we walk."
With that, the four of them set off toward the neighboring village.
Cheongmyo was a village where the Cheonhyang Merchant Guild frequently stopped to rest.
Having frequented Cheongmyo since their days as a small-scale operation, the village held significant importance for the Cheonhyang Merchant Guild.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Mommy!"
"Daddy!"
Screams and despair-filled voices echoed from all directions.
Even after the fall of Matian, the Murim had not returned to normal.
If anything, the chaos seemed to have intensified.
The rogue demon cultivators of Matian, now unleashed without a leash, were a problem, but the reckless behavior of martial artists blinded by the frenzy of demon hunting was also a major issue.
"Since it's well-known as a resting stop for the Cheonhyang Merchant Guild, we initially thought it was the work of bandits," Dang Hwa-young said, looking around the chaotic village.
"That's common enough. Back when the Cheonhyang Merchant Guild wasn't as large as it is now, we used to help them out often," Ho-sung replied.
As Ho-sung noted, villages frequented by merchant guilds were highly vulnerable to bandit raids.
The village chief of Cheongmyo had assumed the same, which only worsened the damage.
"What exactly is the problem, then?"
"The fact that the limbs of the corpses have vanished?"
"...!"
Ho-sung and Dang Hwa-soo grimaced at Dang Hwa-young's words.
"It's Matian."
"It must be a demon cultivator from Matian."
The mere mention of missing body parts pointed heavily toward a Matian demon cultivator.
"Let's get more detailed information from the village chief first," Dang Hwa-young decided, and the three of them headed toward the chief's residence.
Following quietly behind them, Yoo Sung furrowed his brow as he looked at the strangely familiar scenery of the village.
Why does this place feel familiar?
It was definitely his first time here, yet it felt as if he had visited before.
The problem was, he had absolutely never set foot in this village.
Which meant he must have heard about it from somewhere...
"No way."
A sudden memory flashed in his mind, making him scowl.
I hope I'm wrong.
But in all his life, his intuition had never played him false.
"What are you doing?!"
Hearing a voice call out to him from a distance, Yoo Sung walked forward with a heavy heart.
The village chief, looking utterly exhausted, welcomed the four of them.
"I apologize for having nothing to offer such esteemed guests who have traveled so far."
"Don't mention it. We were only worried that we might have arrived too late," Dang Hwa-young replied.
The chief smiled bitterly at her words.
"Just dawn today, the bastard raided the village again and dragged people away."
"And you don't know where he went?"
"Regrettably, no... We can only guess what would happen to anyone who dared to follow him."
"When did this all start?" Dang Hwa-soo asked.
The chief let out a long sigh.
"It began about three months ago."
They had initially thought it was a simple bandit raid, but what made it strange was that the culprit was alone.
The man, who first appeared alone and slaughtered the villagers, took parts of the corpses with him.
Terrified by his actions, the villagers desperately begged for help, but their pleas were ignored.
The man's visits struck terror into the hearts of everyone in the village.
Eventually, the village's able-bodied men banded together to capture him, but the result was catastrophic.
"The next day, they were dumped at the village entrance as cold corpses. Seeing them discarded like trash, with parts of their bodies missing just like the others, we were rendered utterly helpless."
From then on, they fell into utter despair.
Realizing the man was not a mere bandit but a demon cultivator, they trembled in fear day after day, waiting for salvation.
But no one lent them an ear, and time simply slipped away.
It was only when Ha Tae-gun, the eldest son of the Cheonhyang Merchant Guild, recognized the gravity of the situation that he requested aid from the Beggars' Gang.
"May we examine the bodies?"
"Of course."
Guided by the chief, the four of them went to inspect the corpses.
While the other three carefully examined the bodies, Yoo Sung's gaze remained fixed on the village chief.
He sensed an anomalous energy flowing through the chief's body, but there was something else he needed to confirm first.
"Do you happen to know a man named Jang Woo?"
"Hmm? Ah, there was once a boy by that name. I recall him selling himself to leave the village, claiming he would feed his family."
At the chief's reply, Yoo Sung let out a long, silent sigh.
"Then, where is his family now?"
"...Regrettably, they passed away half a month ago. Unable to bear the bastard tormenting the village any longer, they set out to confront him and never returned."
Hearing the chief's answer, Yoo Sung's eyes grew heavy with complex emotions.
He was too late, after all.
"Are there no other family members left? A wife, a mother, or children?"
"They are all dead. The reason he set out was because he was consumed by rage over his family's deaths."
"I see."
"We made a small grave for them just in case. Would you like to visit?"
Yoo Sung nodded at the chief's offer.
"It's on the back hill. Don't expect much, though. We lacked the hands, so we had to bury them hastily."
"That is more than enough. Do you happen to have any strong liquor?"
"I can fetch you some."
Receiving a bottle of cheap liquor from the chief, Yoo Sung announced he would visit the grave and stepped outside.
Dismissing Ho-sung, who offered to tag along, Yoo Sung headed toward the back hill alone.
Sensing a heavy, inexplicable pressure radiating from him, the other three could only watch him go, unable to bring themselves to stop him.
"Keep an eye on the village chief."
At Yoo Sung's telepathic message, Ho-sung's eyes shifted.
Whoosh.
Only a cold wind blew.
True to the chief's words, the grave was crude and poorly made.
Only the name carved into the makeshift tombstone offered any clue as to who lay beneath.
Then again, in a village like this, death was a mundane part of daily life.
Bandit raids were common, and clashes with merchant guild guards were frequent.
The recent appearance of the mysterious demon cultivator had merely amplified the casualties; death itself was nothing new.
Thus, the deaths of those with no parents or siblings left to mourn them were met with even greater indifference.
Yoo Sung, too, harbored no special affection for those resting in the grave.
He had only come to settle a lingering debt in his heart.
Splash.
He pulled out the cheap liquor and poured it over the grave.
He used to say strong liquor was his favorite.
This, at least, resembled him.
Even when he had plenty of money in his pockets, that bastard had always insisted on cheap liquor.
If only I had come a little sooner, would they still be alive?
In truth, it was a pointless thought.
Had the Tang siblings not sought him out, Yoo Sung would have had no intention of leaving the academy anytime soon.
Having walked a path of blood for ten long years, his desire to rest was immense, and he had only come along to appease his lingering regrets.
Yet, looking at the grave, the very first favor the bastard had ever asked of him came to mind.
"Boss, just do me one favor. Just check if my family is doing well. I don't ask for anything else."
Despite his rough and boisterous personality, he had possessed remarkably innocent eyes.
"If you had met the right person earlier, you might have lived a much longer life."
Though he was a mad bull in combat—earning him the moniker "Fighting Bull"—his heart had been incredibly fragile.
To hide this vulnerability, he had built high, prickly walls around himself, acting harsh and abrasive to everyone.
Then again, for the Vagabond Unit, where death could strike at any moment, strength was the only thing that mattered.
One's past or personality was irrelevant from the start.
The day before he died, as if anticipating his own end, he had opened up.
He said he had volunteered because his family was dirt poor.
He had smiled, saying he was content knowing his life's price would keep his family fed.
Yoo Sung recalled his final moments.
He had wished for nothing but his family's happiness, yet the damn heavens refused to grant even that simple wish.
Whoosh.
"Demon cultivators or bandits... there are far too many bastards in this world who deserve to die."
Realizing this truth once more, Yoo Sung's eyes gleamed with a cold, lethal light.