The Boy Named Jinryong

“This is the place.”

The middle-aged man led me to a house tucked into the farthest corner of the village. Before me stood a thatched hut on the verge ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of collapse.

“…Is this really it?”

“It is. We’ve patched it up now and then, so it’s at least this much. When we first found it, the whole thing was falling down.”

“….”

I saw the man’s dry ribs showing through his tattered cotton clothes.

“I’ll be going first. Need to finish today’s farm work before the sun sets. The weather’s already turning cold. And…”

The middle-aged man looked me up and down.

“I’m grateful for the bandit business, but I don’t much like a martial artist wandering our village. Disappear quickly.”

He turned on his heel and left coldly before I could reply. The villagers who had been whispering and stealing glances at the outsider had already scattered in every direction long ago.

Unexpectedly, you’re not getting angry, Host.

Mumyeong spoke.

“I understand how they feel. Even a regular stranger is unsettling—let alone a rough martial artist.”

Hmm. Fair enough.

I heard the sound of wingbeats and looked up.

“…A hawk?”

A single hawk circled overhead. This wasn’t terrain where hawks belonged. I focused inner energy into my eyes and confirmed the Jegal Family crest on its ankle. It had to be a Thousand-Li Hawk—the kind that started at a gold ingot, not silver coins, for a single bird.

The hawk locked eyes with me and dove straight down. I offered my shoulder; it landed and pecked sharply a few times. I reached out and retrieved the letter tied to one leg. The moment the letter was gone, the hawk shot off toward Shaanxi without delay.

I opened the letter.

The neat handwriting was unmistakably Jegal Sea’s. Below it, scrawled in haste as if added right before sending, was the extra line.

“….”

I flicked my fingers and burned the letter to ash with Black Thunder. Then I pushed open the door of the collapsing thatched hut. The wooden floorboards groaned with every step. There was no proper furniture—only rotting, broken pieces. Cobwebs clung everywhere. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A wooden bowl on the table was bone-dry, without a drop of moisture. I laid the child on the moldy bed and turned away.

“Did you come alone?”

I looked back. The child was awake, eyes open. I glanced left, then right. Opened my mouth. Closed it. Drew a short, heavy breath and answered.

“Probably.”

“It’s okay.”

“….”

That was not a phrase a child that age should be saying. Normally when you start a conversation you adjust your expectations to the other person’s age, status, and situation. But the words that had just left the child’s mouth fit none of the expectations I had formed.

People who say things that don’t match their age are usually one of two kinds.

Mumyeong whispered from the darkness.

Either they’ve been broken by trials so terrible the nightmares swallowed them whole… or—

“Or they’re still thrashing and clawing to stay alive somehow.”

I answered Mumyeong quietly and turned back. I approached the child on the bed, knelt so our eyes were level.

“What’s your name?”

“Jinryong. Mom called me Jinryong.”

“Jinryong? Then your family name is…”

I scattered the question that almost left my lips into the air and changed course.

“Right. Jinryong. Nice to meet you.”

“What’s your name, mister? You’re the one who saved me from the bandits, right?”

“Yeah. And my name is…”

I hesitated a moment. Thoughts crossed and recrossed before I answered.

“Bi. Just call me Bi. And I’m not ‘mister.’ I’m your hyung.”

The child nodded.

“Bi-mister.”

“…Do whatever you want. You must be hungry. Want some of this?”

I pulled out jerky I had roasted earlier and flattened cakes of steamed rice that I had mashed and grilled. The child’s eyes went wide. He snatched them and began stuffing his face in a frantic rush. While he ate I stepped outside, drew a bowl of cold water from the nearby well, and brought it back. The child gulped it down. Even so he couldn’t finish two pieces of jerky. He tried to force more into his mouth but couldn’t swallow, glancing at me with a pitiful expression.

His stomach’s shrunk from long-term starvation.

“….”

Mumyeong said. I took out every scrap of food I still had and set it on the table.

“I’ll leave everything I have right here for now.”

The child’s eyes widened again.

“You don’t have to force it all down at once. I won’t take it back. Your body’s already been through enough—if you get sick from overeating you’ll only hurt yourself more.”

“Thank you.”

Three chairs sat around the table.

“You were guiding someone when the bandits hit?”

The child nodded.

“You don’t look very shocked.”

“Mom said if you want to earn money you have to keep your head clear.”

I looked at the child who could say such a thing. Baby fat still clung to his young face—cracked and split. He couldn’t have been anywhere near ten. The jerky was bigger than his hand. I muttered,

“…At your age you should be playing, not earning money…”

The child swallowed the rice cake he had been chewing.

“Mom said I always have to keep my head straight if I’m going to look after my little brothers and sisters. Sometimes when uncles come looking for the village I guide them and they give me pocket money.”

“…Where’s your mom?”

“Mom left one day to earn money too. The village aunties said she’ll come back after five winters, so there’s four left. Until then I have to protect my siblings well.”

The child’s mother had frozen to death. The villagers had cremated her while the boy slept. I rubbed the tip of my fingernail. Sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, I finally looked at him again.

“You said siblings? You have brothers and sisters?”

“Yes. Oh—right, I have to give them food too. Is it okay if I give them some?”

The child got up from the bed. He poured water into a small bowl and arranged jerky on a plate, then set them on the table in front of the two empty chairs.

“Eat well.”

On the chairs sat animal dolls made of carved wood with cloth limbs sewn on, dressed in grimy clothes.

“Those aren’t siblings, they’re d—”

“They’re my siblings. They have names too. Mom made ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them and said I have to treat them like real little brothers and sisters and take care of them. Starting from the left, their names are…”

I couldn’t finish the doubtful words I had started. After a moment I answered,

“Your siblings have really pretty names. You and your mom chose well.”

“Mister, did you have siblings like this?”

“…I have plenty of brothers, but if you mean in the way you mean…”

I paused briefly.

“Something similar, yeah. It’s a distant memory now, but a long time ago I wanted to become a great martial artist. I wandered the marketplace chasing learning, working day to day just to survive, and it was so hard and lonely.”

I spoke in broken, halting pieces.

“They say there are so many people in this world, but there wasn’t a single one I could tell my frustrations to. So I bought a friend at a general store.”

“A friend?”

I nodded.

“But I was a little embarrassed about it. So I never told anyone, but I’d hug that doll and cry, and pour out my complaints. Saying it out loud… yeah. I had something like that too.”

“Ahem. Of course I always feed my siblings, but if anything’s left at the end I eat it all myself.”

The child’s slightly absurd answer pulled a short laugh out of me.

“Yeah. You’ll eat it all yourself, of course. How do you feed your siblings?”

The child grabbed an animal doll and pecked at the jerky and water bowl the way a chicken pecks grain.

“Like this—chomp chomp chomp.”

He made eating sounds while tapping.

“…Do you really have to make the sounds?”

“If I don’t, my siblings won’t eat.”

“….”

I hesitated a few times, then picked up a doll.

“Chomp chomp chomp…”

I clumsily made the sounds while tapping the dolls against the water bowl and jerky. After a while the animal dolls rested leaning against the plate on the table, meal finished.

I looked around the house. The villagers’ first impression had been cold, but it seemed they were still looking after the child in their own way. The traces of repairs here and there put me a little at ease.

“From now on don’t guide people outside the village where it’s dangerous.”

I stepped out of the house and firmly warned the child who followed. Two dolls dangled from his waist under the excuse of showing them the outside world.

“Uh, then I’ll starve. Our village chief says if you want to eat you have to work—”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“I already talked with the village chief earlier. You won’t have to worry about food.”

The middle-aged man from before had to be the chief. I recalled the location of the house he had entered.

“…Really? I don’t really get it, but since it’s you, mister, I’ll believe you.”

I stopped the steps that had been about to leave and looked back.

“What do you mean, you’ll believe me because it’s me?”

“You’re kind, mister.”

“I’m kind?”

“And somehow… mm.”

The child smiled.

“You felt like Mom. When I asked other uncles from other villages to help feed my siblings, they all said they were busy and left.”

I couldn’t say anything.

“You live around here, right, mister? You’ll come again later, right? Let’s feed my siblings together.”

“…Food.”

I nodded.

“I’ll definitely come back. Can’t let the siblings go hungry.”

I said it once more while looking at the dolls hanging from the child’s waist. The boy stood in front of the house until I turned the path and disappeared completely from sight.

I cut across the village.

Huh? In the sky…?

Mumyeong said something, but I didn’t hear it. Right in front of me the middle-aged man from earlier was just opening his door; our eyes met.

“Huh? You—”

“Are you the chief of this village?”

The man’s eyes filled with questions. I rummaged through my clothes and pulled out every last coin I had.

“Three years by the calendar. This is the care fee for that child. I’m entrusting it to you as the village’s responsible person. From now on don’t make him work. Look after him the way a child his age should be looked after.”

“W-wait, wait. What are you suddenly talking about? Why is a martial artist asking me for a favor—”

The chief opened the heavy pouch I had handed him, saw the bundle of silver coins, and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Th-this is an enormous sum of money!”

“I won’t just throw money and wash my hands of it. I’ll come regularly to check that the money I gave is being used properly for the child and that nothing’s wrong with him. And of course when the money runs out I’ll bring more each time.”

“No, wait. Who in the world are you? Who are you to hand over this kind of fortune—”

I said,

“I’m the guardian of that child and his siblings. Take good care of them, Chief.”

As I turned and walked away the chief stared after me and muttered blankly,

“Siblings…? That child doesn’t have any siblings…”

I left the chief’s house and the village. At the entrance a low rise of earth stood. I climbed it and quietly looked down at the thatched hut where the child lived. After a while I saw the chief heading toward the child’s house with a white sack of rice over his shoulder. Soon white smoke rose from the thatched hut’s chimney. Confirming it was cooking smoke, I nodded.

Then Mumyeong spoke.

Host. Above.

I raised my head.

“…!”

Cutting across the blue sky was a Thousand-Li Hawk with red paint near its wings. The moment it spotted me it plummeted vertically. Without waiting for it to land on my shoulder I snatched the bird and unfolded the letter tied to its leg. Inside was a bracelet woven of silver thread—the same kind I remembered Eun Seollyeong using before. She had once tracked my location with a similar ritual tool. Countless unreadable patterns covered the bracelet’s surface. Below them writing was inscribed.

Sound transmission…

I hurriedly slipped the bracelet on.

The moment the bracelet settled, a thunderous voice exploded inside my skull as if it would split my head.

“What—Jegal Sea? Wait, is this tool actually transmitting sound right now?”

Jegal Sea’s voice sounded like she was about to choke. I was flustered.

“W-wait. Jegal Sea. Calm down. What’s going on all of a sudden? Speak slowly—”

My breath stopped.

Jegal Sea gasped for air.

“…What?”

I couldn’t understand what I had just heard. Mumyeong spoke.

Impossible. Sensing and shooting to kill at that kind of ultra-long range with a bow? Even I only reach twenty zhang at most.

Ten horse-zhang was five times Mumyeong’s maximum sensory range.

That’s absurd. There has to be a mistake. If the opponent is truly in the realm of a divine archer at that distance, we’d be taking one-sided attacks without even being able to see his form…!

—Flash.

In an instant the world in front of me turned pure white. It was like staring into a fireworks explosion that had suddenly burst right before your eyes in the dead of night.

“W-what is this.”

I blinked in panic. Some sound reached past my ears.

—Kyaaaaa…!!

It was a distant, fading, desperate death-scream like a ghost’s wail. It swelled rapidly—

—KWAANG!!

Heaven and earth shook. The earth-shaking roar told me my vision wasn’t lying. White dust billowed up. The entrance to the village had been destroyed. A massive gouge scarred the ground as if a great beast had raked its claws across a log.

“…! …!!!”

Screams began to fill the distance. The quiet village erupted like a kicked beehive. Bodies of several villagers caught in the storm lay scattered on the ground amid white smoke.

“Ah…”

—Piyung.

—Piyung…!

Pure white light and the sound of air being punched through rang out one after another. The ghostly wails swelled and grew enormous.

—KWAANG!

—Jjeong! Jjeoeong!

Successive massive explosions left straight scars across the earth. Mumyeong was horrified.

Gangqi…? He’s firing arrows made of pure gangqi—Gang-sal?!

The attacks never stopped. And I realized: the scars left on the ground were gradually focusing toward the village. Jegal Sea’s transmission rang through my mind again.

I muttered,

“No. No way. Don’t tell me, don’t tell me…”

—KKWAANG!!

Even in that brief span of thought, massive shockwaves kept closing on the village. Like a blind man groping with his hands to guess the shape of an object, the one called Thunder Emperor of the Eight Demon Dragons kept firing his bow from afar, continuously correcting his margin of error. The end of those attacks was narrowing onto the village.

—Click.

Far away I saw the door of the thatched hut open. The child, dolls in his arms, and the chief peered left and right with uneasy eyes.

“Ah.”

—Piyung.

A pure white noise split the sky. This time I saw it clearly. A white streak of light wrapped in lightning—formed of gangqi—was flying straight toward the village.

There was no time to think.

Host, this is suicide!

Even as Mumyeong shouted, my entire body boiled with Black Thunder. I kicked off the ground with everything I had. With a roar the earth around me shattered as my body shot forward at extreme speed. Inner energy surged through every inch of me. The chief wrapped his arms around the child. Their startled eyes locked on me. Drawing on the power of Ryu, the final chapter of the Asura Great Annihilation Kalpa, I thrust my hand forward. The protective technique that had slammed every last bit of the Four Armorers’ latent energy into it activated all at once. A barrier of blue gangqi formed like a shield in front of my hand.

—Swaeaeek!

The Gang-sal smashed into my protective barrier.

—Chaaeng!!

With a clear ringing sound the barrier shattered in an instant. My palm was pierced through. My forearm was punched open. Twisting at an angle, it drove into my abdomen. A pain like being branded with fire raced up my spine.

“Ugh!!”

With Black Thunder I snatched the Gang-sal that had tried to punch through my belly with my bare hand. Inside my energy-wrapped grip the Gang-sal writhed like a living snake. It twisted madly, trying to drive the rest of the way through.

—Whirik! Whik! Writhe-writhe!

My whole body felt like it was on fire. And before I could even fully register the pain, the Gang-sal embedded in my gut blazed with light and swelled.

—Pajik.

It was yellow lightning so brilliant it made my Black Thunder look dim by comparison.

Damn it—thunder lightning…!

Mumyeong screamed.

Host, pull that out and throw it right now! Or you’ll die instantly—

—Pajijijik!!!

The well water nearby boiled and evaporated. Near-white yellow lightning scorched through my entire body and exploded. Everything around me was swallowed by a storm of thunder as it fried my whole form.

“Uwaaaaaagh!!!”