Chapter 238
Chapter 238
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 238
Chapter Title: Chapter 5. The Bloody Wind Blows Without Regard for Place (1)
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As soon as he stepped out of the forbidden area, Kwanghae, who had been waiting, was the first to greet Damho.
“How did your talk go?”
When Damho silently nodded, Kwanghae’s face lit up with joy.
“That’s a relief. It’s fortunate you two could meet before it was too late.”
“…….”
“Grandmaster had been looking forward to the day he could meet Hero Dam. It was his final wish before entering nirvana, and I’m glad it could be fulfilled, even if belatedly.”
Kwanghae’s eyes shone with genuine relief.
Damho listened without a word. But his mind was elsewhere.
Muryang Sinsung had indeed shared many stories. However, few of them were of any real use.
It was true that Muryang Sinsung had joined the Four Death Emissaries during the raid on the Demonic Cult’s headquarters. But at the final moment, they had been separated.
He knew one of the Four Death Emissaries had betrayed them, but not who. All of them had maintained a steadfast silence.
Decades had passed since then. Enough time for even the fondest memories to fade.
The name of the Four Death Emissaries had been forgotten, and now almost no one knew the truth.
‘Dan Gongwol.’
He was one of the Four Death Emissaries. His alias was Wind Moon Lord. And Damho had heard that title before.
On the way here, he had stopped at Dongneung, where Bang Jinbo and Muk Ilgwang had encountered an absolute master of unknown identity. The blacksmith elder had called him Wind Moon Lord.
The Four Death Emissaries had already begun moving. The world simply didn’t know it yet.
Damho looked up at the sky.
The sun had set, and dusk was settling in. The sunset sky was blindingly beautiful, but it couldn’t hold back the creeping darkness.
‘Demonic Cult, Heavenly Killing Church, and the Four Death Emissaries….’
Unexpected forces were emerging one after another. The world was spiraling deeper into chaos. No one knew what name would surface next.
Damho shook his head to clear his thoughts.
His eyes soon regained their usual cold indifference.
‘Focus on the situation at hand, on what I can do.’
His goal was to find Cho Yeonun.
Meeting Muryang Sinsung had been unexpected and time-consuming, but he couldn’t abandon his search for Cho Yeonun.
Under Kwanghae’s guidance, Damho returned to his quarters. At the entrance to the annex, Kwanghae quietly said,
“Then I shall take my leave. Rest well, Hero Dam.”
He gave Damho a half-bow and stepped outside.
“Hyung!”
“Big brother!”
As Damho entered the annex, Bang Jinbo and Muk Ilgwang rushed over like baby birds waiting for their mother to bring food.
Curiosity filled their faces.
“Did everything go well with what you went to fetch?”
“Yeah.”
Damho gave a curt reply.
There was no need to tell them about meeting Muryang Sinsung. It would inevitably lead to talk of the Four Death Emissaries.
“Let’s rest.”
“Huh?”
“We’re heading to Zhongnan Mountain at dawn tomorrow. So rest up and conserve your strength.”
From Dengfeng County, where Shaolin Temple was located, to Zhongnan Mountain in Shaanxi Province—home of the Zhongnan Sect—it was over two thousand li. Even riding hard, it would take more than ten days. They needed to build up their stamina.
“Got it, hyung. Don’t worry.”
“We won’t lag behind, no matter what.”
Bang Jinbo and Muk Ilgwang pounded their chests confidently.
Damho nodded and entered the room. Muk Ilgwang and Bang Jinbo followed behind.
Even after a long time had passed since Damho left, Muryang Sinsung remained motionless.
“Whew!”
Only after much more time had elapsed did he stir.
Muryang Sinsung pushed off the rock with both legs and stood.
“Ugh! Sitting there just a bit has chills running through my whole body.”
He lightly tapped his legs with his fists, a relieved expression on his face. He had confessed everything to Damho.
“I’m truly sorry to burden you like this. But you were the only one I could tell. Forgive me for adding this heavy load to the path of hardship you already walk. Amitabha!”
Muryang Sinsung shook his head and took a step.
He headed toward the straw hut that had been his home for so long.
Upon arriving at the hut, Muryang Sinsung furrowed his white brows. The animals that always gathered in front of his dwelling were nowhere to be seen. They might have fled in fear of Damho, but after this much time, they should have returned. Yet still, no animals appeared near the hut.
Unknowingly, Muryang Sinsung chanted a Buddhist invocation.
“Amitabha! Who’s there?”
“It’s been a while, Muryang.”
At that moment, someone emerged from the darkness.
The instant he saw the figure, Muryang Sinsung’s eyes widened in shock.
“You…?”
“It’s been about thirty years, I’d say.”
“How are you here…? No, could it be?”
Muryang Sinsung’s gaze shook violently as he stared at ‘him.’ Then ‘he’ smiled faintly.
Muryang Sinsung focused his eyes on ‘him.’
“So it was you.”
“Indeed.”
“Why?”
“Everyone has reasons they can’t share with anyone. I have no intention of telling you even the petty details of my personal affairs.”
“Then why come here?”
“It’s time to tidy up the remnants of the past. I don’t want your mouth to open.”
“Amitabha!”
“Didn’t you suspect this day would come?”
His white teeth gleamed in the darkness.
“Amitabha! Amitabha!”
“If you die quietly, I won’t touch Shaolin. But if you resist, I’ll wipe Shaolin from the face of the earth. What will you do? It’s all up to your choice.”
‘He’ forced the decision.
Muryang Sinsung pressed his lips tight.
He had no room for choice.
‘Lately, the celestial omens have been unstable. So that foretold my fate.’
‘He’ looked down at Muryang Sinsung.
Thirty years had passed, yet he looked exactly the same. Muryang Sinsung knew he could never escape him.
That cold gaze and overwhelming presence crushed down on Muryang Sinsung’s shoulders.
Shaolin’s fate hung on his decision.
In ‘his’ icy eyes, Muryang Sinsung saw a strand of darkness flickering. The ‘him’ of old had never harbored such darkness.
‘He’s already been consumed by deep darkness.’
It was too late to turn back. No matter what he did, ‘he’ would never return to who he was.
For a moment, he considered resisting, but Muryang Sinsung soon gave up.
“Amitabha! Let it be as you wish.”
“A wise choice, Muryang.”
‘He’ smiled. Everything had gone according to his will. But in doing so, he failed to notice. Muryang Sinsung was also smiling faintly.
‘Fist Demon.’
One dyed in the same darkness as ‘him.’
Light does not dispel deep darkness. Only an even deeper darkness can.
‘May your darkness swallow his.’
***
The next dawn, Damho prepared to leave Shaolin Temple. But Kwanghae’s sudden arrival halted his plans before they could begin.
“It’s Kwanghae. May I enter?”
Kwanghae’s urgent voice came from outside.
Damho furrowed his brow but allowed him in. Kwanghae hurried into the room.
“Amitabha! Hero Dam.”
Kwanghae’s eyes, fixed on Damho, were filled with bewilderment. Damho sensed something had happened.
“What is it?”
“Grandmaster… entered nirvana last night.”
“Muryang Sinsung?”
“Yes.”
Damho’s face hardened.
He had seen him just yesterday. Though advanced in age and weakened, he hadn’t seemed on the verge of death.
“The cause?”
“For now, it appears to be simply the end of his natural lifespan.”
Kwanghae’s expression was far from bright as he answered.
“There are no signs of intrusion or wounds. No traces of foul play at all.”
“I see.”
“He lived over a hundred years. It wouldn’t have been strange if he had entered nirvana at any time. But it was too sudden. He was still hale when he met you yesterday.”
Kwanghae let out a quiet sigh.
Muryang Sinsung’s death had come too abruptly. The Shaolin leadership was in an uproar. Especially now, when the Demonic Cult could strike at any moment.
“That’s why we plan to hold the cremation tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
Muryang Sinsung was Shaolin’s greatest elder. For such a figure, funerals typically involved elaborate rites over many days, not immediate cremation.
“Grandmaster always said in life: the body returns to dust anyway, so don’t burden others—throw it to the mountain before it rots. Let the beasts fatten on it; that too is merit. But as his disciples, how could we? Unable to discard his body, we have no choice but to cremate quickly.”
It wasn’t Kwanghae’s decision alone. The abbot and elders had gathered and decided together.
“Few in the martial world know of Grandmaster’s existence. So the cremation will be simple, attended only by a small group.”
“…….”
“Hero Dam, I know you’re in a hurry, but please attend Grandmaster’s cremation.”
“Why?”
“You were the last to see him alive. If it’s you…”
Kwanghae trailed off. His eyes were filled with desperation. Though he held back his words, his face showed strong suspicion about Muryang Sinsung’s death.
Damho closed his eyes briefly. Countless thoughts flashed through his mind. But his deliberation didn’t last long.
“Very well.”
“Thank you.”
Kwanghae bowed his head in gratitude and left.
Alone now, Damho suddenly recalled his conversation with Muryang Sinsung yesterday.
—A savage era where power makes everything possible. The martial world ahead will be even more perilous. The powerless will writhe in fear, and the powerful will plunder the weak to survive.
A savage era.
An age of war ruled by strength.
Damho glanced at his fist.
It was covered in countless scars—the traces of his lifelong battles etched into it.
He had fought fiercely to survive. That had made him strong. Now, countless people looked at him with eyes of fear.
He no longer wanted to become anything or achieve anything. He had no desire to protect the martial world like Muryang Sinsung, nor to stand above others.
Until now, he had accepted that as natural, without a shred of doubt. But for the first time, a question arose.
‘What should I do?’
Damho’s gaze deepened.
He could continue living as he always had, selfishly. No one would dare complain. That was who Damho was.
The title Fist Demon was the mark of his life.
Everyone thought of Damho as a heartless demon without mercy or tears. He had no intention of denying it. He had lived that way.
A conviction without roots, like duckweed on water.
That was Damho now. Perhaps that was why he felt drawn to Bang Jinbo and Cho Yeonun, who walked their paths with firm beliefs of their own.
They possessed a bright light he lacked. It dazzled him. Unlike himself, steeped in deep darkness.
It was then.
“Hyung!”
Bang Jinbo burst through the door, panting as if he had run here in haste. Behind him shone a bright light.
In contrast, the shadow on Damho’s face grew even darker.
He was darkness. One that could never brighten… .