Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Part 4. The Wind That Brushes By Isn't Always Warm (1)
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After the meal, Bang Jin-bo returned to his room, while Damho stepped outside.
Purrrr!
As he approached the stables, Black Ghost poked its head out happily. Damho gave the horse's neck a light pat.
Black Ghost snorted hot breath again.
"Just wait a little longer. You'll be able to run wild soon enough."
As if understanding Damho's words, Black Ghost scraped at the ground with its front hoof.
Though they hadn't known each other long, Black Ghost seemed to share a bond with Damho, understanding him perfectly.
It was while Damho was spending time with Black Ghost like this.
"That must be your horse."
An unfamiliar presence came with an equally unfamiliar voice.
Turning his head, he saw the black-robed elder who had arrived with Shim Ok earlier. The elder stood with his arms tucked into his sleeves, gazing at Damho.
As Damho looked his way, the black-robed elder approached with quick steps.
"I noticed it when you arrived earlier, but it's quite a fine steed. Horses like that aren't easy to come by these days."
"......"
"Where did you get it?"
"Horse Market."
"Ho! You found a gem like this at the Horse Market? Impressive!"
The black-robed elder looked at Black Ghost with eyes full of admiration. But hidden within them was an unmistakable greed.
For any martial artist, a good horse was as desirable as a fine weapon. This was especially true for those who roamed vast grasslands like this place.
The black-robed elder was one such warrior who made the plains his stage. His desire for a superior mount burned stronger than most.
Black Ghost, pure black without a single stray hair, was clearly a legendary steed at first glance. But the elder's true purpose wasn't the horse.
He stopped in front of Damho. The elder was so short he barely reached Damho's chest. Yet the intensity in his eyes as he stared up at Damho was fierce.
"Who are you?"
"......"
Damho didn't answer. He saw no value in doing so.
The elder's gaze sharpened even more, piercing enough to read a man's soul.
Ordinary people couldn't withstand such a stare. Even within the elder's own group, only a handful could meet it head-on.
Yet Damho didn't avert his eyes—instead, he met them directly.
His deep black pupils held not a flicker of disturbance.
'This guy!'
For a moment, a chill ran down the elder's spine.
It felt like staring at a colossal boulder—or a mountain range so vast its peaks were beyond reckoning.
That was the weight in Damho's gaze. It made the elder feel overwhelmed instead.
Unconsciously, he nearly drew his weapon. But with superhuman restraint, he held back.
Overwhelming as the weight in Damho's eyes was, there was no killing intent.
The elder asked once more.
"Who are you?"
"Damho."
"Is that your name?"
The elder's eyes flashed. In contrast, a look of annoyance crossed Damho's face.
"Does it matter?"
"It does. A great deal."
From the moment he'd first seen Damho, the elder had recognized him as a master of martial arts.
Beneath the black robe, Damho's body was astonishingly well-developed. The elder had seen many external art experts, but none with a physique like Damho's.
Size alone or bulging muscles didn't make one strong in external arts.
As with all martial arts, harmony was key.
Only when the muscles of the arms and legs, supported by the core and back, achieved perfect balance could true power emerge.
By that measure, Damho possessed the ideal body for external arts. The elder had never encountered a warrior with such development.
His frame wasn't enormous, but every fiber of muscle brimmed with explosive power, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
That was why he'd stopped Shim Ok from approaching.
Shim Ok was skilled in martial arts but clumsy with people—especially since she'd been pampered from childhood, leading her to speak carelessly.
It didn't matter with ordinary folk, but with someone like Damho, it was bound to cause friction.
He wasn't afraid of Damho, but there was no need to create needless enmity at a time like this.
"Are you connected to them, by any chance?"
"Them?"
Damho approached with a puzzled look. In that instant, the elder noticed Damho's slight limp.
'What a pity! A limp like that.'
No matter how perfectly developed the body, what good was it with a limp? It threw off balance, hindering movement severely.
The elder quickly dismissed the thought.
Damho's reaction made it clear—he had no ties to them.
"Guess not, then. In that case, just one request."
"......"
"No matter what happens here, just go your own way. It'll be best for both of us. I'll assume that's settled. Heed my words."
Without waiting for Damho's reply, the elder turned and left.
Damho watched the elder's retreating back in silence. His eyes grew even deeper.
The next day, Damho and Bang Jin-bo prepared to depart early in the morning.
Bang Jin-bo meticulously packed his food supplies.
"What to do?"
He'd bought too much. No matter how he crammed, some wouldn't fit in his bag. There was no space for the large, wide pastry tray as big as his torso.
The pastry was like the chef's lifeline—he couldn't leave it behind. After a moment's thought, Bang Jin-bo tied it with string and slung it over his back. He looked just like a turtle.
"There."
Bang Jin-bo smiled in satisfaction.
Appearance didn't matter as long as he could move freely. That was enough.
"Brother, let's go now."
"Yeah!"
Unlike Bang Jin-bo, Damho had little to prepare. Camping and food were all on Bang Jin-bo.
For Damho, his black robe was sufficient.
With preparations complete, Damho and Bang Jin-bo left the inn. It was early, but the dining hall buzzed with people—mostly merchants setting off on long journeys.
"Haha!"
"Look at that kid. Just like a turtle."
The merchants burst into hearty laughter at Bang Jin-bo, pastry tray on his back. The round tray made him look exactly like one.
Bang Jin-bo's face flushed with embarrassment.
Then Damho spoke.
"Straighten your back."
"Yes!"
Bang Jin-bo straightened up immediately.
"A warrior fights with a sword—you fight fire with your tray. Take pride in it. What others see on the outside doesn't matter."
"Got it."
Bang Jin-bo nodded.
He believed anything Damho said. Damho was the only one he trusted.
Bang Jin-bo glanced around. But his face soon fell. Shim Ok was nowhere in sight.
Damho ruffled Bang Jin-bo's hair.
"Disappointed?"
"N-no."
Bang Jin-bo's face turned red. He hurried to an empty seat. Damho followed.
As they sat, the waiter rushed over.
"Heading out now?"
"Yes! Brother, our breakfast please."
"Just a moment. I'll bring it right away."
The waiter smiled and dashed to the kitchen.
Damho sat and scanned the room.
Some familiar faces were missing. Mostly merchants, including Shim Ok, whom Bang Jin-bo fancied.
She and the black-robed elder must have left before them.
Bang Jin-bo was still peering around for her. Damho watched him silently.
Then the waiter arrived with a tray of food. It seemed pre-made. Looking around, all the merchants had the same meal.
Stir-fried lamb, flatbread, and plain white rice—that was it.
"Hehe! Breakfast's the same for everyone. Enjoy! Eat well, you too."
"Brother, thanks."
"No problem! Well then..."
The waiter retreated with a grin.
Damho picked up his chopsticks, and Bang Jin-bo began eating.
As he'd noticed yesterday, the Blue River Inn's food was exceptionally tasty—especially to Damho.
He savored small bites, chewing thoroughly. It was a habit formed since emerging into the world.
Even small amounts needed proper chewing to avoid burdening the stomach—he knew that now.
Damho's demeanor resembled an old monk's.
Bang Jin-bo, meanwhile, ate with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Wow! The five-spice powder is perfect. No gaminess from the lamb at all."
Five-spice powder—ground fennel, cinnamon, Sichuan pepper, cloves, and dried tangerine peel—was a fundamental seasoning that defined a dish's flavor and aroma. Master chefs each had their secret blends.
"And this bittersweet tang—what's that? Licorice?"
Bang Jin-bo identified spices and seasonings just from tasting, yet never slowed his eating.
Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Hehe!"
He laughed.
His innocent smile somehow seemed lonely.
Damho and Bang Jin-bo left the inn and headed to the stables.
Black Ghost whinnied in greeting.
Damho patted its neck and mounted. Bang Jin-bo first loaded his ingredient bag on his horse, then clambered up with grunts.
With bags and pouches on the saddle and the pastry tray on his back, Bang Jin-bo looked comically burdened. Yet his expression was resolute.
Leaving Hapmil, they'd reach the Central Plains in days. A whole new world awaited—one utterly different from before.
He felt both fear and excitement.
Bang Jin-bo glanced at Damho.
Damho stared straight ahead, his face as impassive as ever.
Though they'd traveled together for some time, Bang Jin-bo had rarely seen him smile.
'Does Brother even know how to smile? What kind of life made him lose all emotion?'
Having somewhat overcome his father's death, he now had leisure to observe his surroundings.
Bang Jin-bo realized he knew nothing about Damho—despite receiving unconditional aid all this time.
"Let's go."
Damho's gruff voice cut through—like gravel rattling in his throat, making listeners flinch.
While Bang Jin-bo pondered, Damho had already pulled far ahead.
"Brother, wait! Hyah!"
Bang Jin-bo kicked his horse's flank.
Only when he'd caught up, shoulders level, did a smile light Bang Jin-bo's face.
The two sped out of Hapmil at a blistering pace.
Beyond the town, the path was clear. They urged their horses faster.
Black Ghost bolted like it was unleashing pent-up instincts, mad with speed. Bang Jin-bo's horse followed until foam flecked its mouth.
Yet it had stamina, keeping pace somehow. Still, the gap widened over time.
Damho and Black Ghost shrank to a tiny dot and vanished.
"Brother, together!"
In the end, impatient Bang Jin-bo shouted.
Hearing him, Damho halted—visible in the distance. Bang Jin-bo's face lit up as he galloped over. But as he neared, his expression hardened.
A wind blew, carrying an unfamiliar scent. Yet Bang Jin-bo recalled smelling it recently.
"Blood?"
The acrid stench stinging his nose was unmistakably the reek of blood.
Reaching Damho, a shocking scene unfolded.
"Ah!"
The ground soaked red, strewn with countless corpses. Crows and wild beasts feasted upon them.
An unwelcome memory surfaced.
Bang Jin-bo squeezed his eyes shut.