A Sleeping Dragon, They Said
Jin Seongun explained to the Martial Gods, one by one, everything that had happened at the Prosperity Assembly.
For gods who dwelled in this hollow void, news from the outside world was a rare delight. The story that he had successfully brought in the Merchants' Guild, killed the Assembly Leader, and ushered in a springtime for the merchants of Yichang left them thoroughly pleased.
Sword Immortal in particular, who never let the word chivalry stray far from his lips, was overjoyed and lavished praise on Jin Seongun.
"Well done, Seongun. We did not teach you the sword merely so you would grant our requests. The sword grows strongest when Good cleaves away Evil."
Amid the warm, cheerful atmosphere, Blood Demon—as always sprawled on the floor gazing up at the heavens—asked in that voice of his, sharp as a stiletto.
"Did you kill them all?"
Jin Seongun stared at him for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes. Their loyalty to the Assembly Leader was so fierce that I had no choice."
Only then did Blood Demon smile in satisfaction.
From what Jin Seongun could tell, the man seemed to delight in bloodshed the more people died.
He had agreed to fulfill the Martial Gods' requests one by one in exchange for their martial arts. Nothing had been specified yet, but he found himself suddenly curious what Blood Demon's request would be.
According to the other gods, Blood Demon had killed more people than anyone in all of recorded history.
The memory of Blood Demon Soul erupting and slaughtering dozens of Prosperity Assembly warriors in a single stroke came flooding back. If he could do something like that, then imagine a being like Blood Demon actually setting out to hunt people down... He couldn't even begin to fathom how terrifying a demon such a man must have been.
He couldn't understand why the deeply chivalrous souls like Sword Immortal and Daji shared the same space as someone like Blood Demon.
"What are you staring at?"
"Nothing at all."
Blood Demon, who had been watching him with a blank face, turned his gaze back to the sky. He carried the air of a man who couldn't care less what became of the world.
Before long, Jin Seongun performed his martial arts before the gods. Starting with Daji's Yeowol Mind Art, then Sangwang's Black Wolf Saber Technique, Shintu's Shadowless Steps, and Sword Immortal's Fire Dragon Escaping Sword. And finally, Blood Demon's Blood Blood Hands Art and Blood Demon Soul.
"Ha, this is astonishing."
Sword Immortal burst out in pure admiration. By his reckoning, the boy had fought no more than two or three real battles since they'd taught him those arts.
He's grown that much in so short a time.
The other gods shared the sentiment. Even Blood Demon, who showed no interest in anything, had watched Jin Seongun unleash Blood Demon Soul with a face that had grown noticeably serious.
"Seongun, if you devote yourself a little longer, I will be able to teach you the next sword art after the Fire Dragon Escaping Sword."
"I will do my best."
The Fire Dragon Escaping Sword was already a magnificent art. The look in the Blood Merchant Unit Leader's eyes when he faced the fire dragon coiled within that blade was still vivid in his memory. He wondered how much more staggering the next sword would be.
From the look of things, Sangwang and Daji were also pondering which arts to pass on to him. Blood Demon still stared at the sky, though a faint expression had crept onto his face.
Then, Shintu sauntered over with his usual impish grin.
"Seongun, there's nothing more I can teach you about Shadowless Steps. As your realm rises, your mastery will rise on its own. So instead, I'll teach you something else."
With that, Shintu drew a single dagger from within his robes. He tossed it into the air, caught it, fiddled with it a few times, then took his stance.
"Keep your eyes on me. You must not lose sight of me, not even once."
Jin Seongun nodded. And Shintu began to walk.
A perfectly ordinary pace, neither fast nor slow. Then, all at once, Shintu's form seemed to blur—
Fwoom!
In an instant he had vanished, as though sunk into the earth itself.
Jin Seongun pushed his energy sense to its absolute limit. Even so, he could not feel Shintu. It was as if the man had ceased to exist in this space altogether.
Then Shintu deliberately made footstep sounds. Thud, thud. And in Jin Seongun's eyes, Shintu reappeared—still strolling leisurely around him, perfectly composed.
"I told you to focus."
Shintu vanished again at once. No matter how hard Jin Seongun concentrated, he could not track him.
In a way, it was only natural. Even the Ten Supreme Masters of his own era, who had lived alongside Shintu, had never managed to catch him.
Poke.
Jin Seongun lowered his head and looked at his own flank. Shintu stood there, having just prodded him with the hilt of the dagger.
"Manlijanhaeng. Myriad-Mile Shadow Travel."
It was a form of stealth art. Where Shadowless Steps specialized in the instant of combat, Myriad-Mile Shadow Travel was a lightness art devoted to very long battles—or very long journeys.
"Master this completely, and not a soul under heaven will ever see you again. Whether you use it to flee or to skewer a man is up to you."
The most covert great thief in the world was, put another way, the deadliest of assassins. Thief and killer alike were creatures who moved by deceiving the senses of others.
"The method is simple. Close your eyes and open every sense. Naturally, that means feeling even the flow of qi drifting through the air through your energy sense."
Jin Seongun did as Shintu instructed.
Truthfully, opening his energy sense was still harder for him than swinging a sword. He had simply never done it before in his life. Of course, sensing the flow of qi was unambiguously the domain of a master; that a man newly entered into the murim could do it at all would have floored anyone who knew.
"Do you feel it?"
"Yes."
Jin Seongun answered matter-of-factly. Shintu's face soured.
"You absolute monster."
"...Now, that's a bit much."
Shintu shot him a look of pure disbelief, then decided to have a little fun with him.
"Then merge yourself with what you feel. Melt into the principles of all the world. The ground is hot, the night is cold. Even the wind pushing the wind along is a principle. The more principles you feel and the more you align yourself with them, the more natural and more hidden Myriad-Mile Shadow Travel becomes. Of course, that's hard to grasp just by listening, so this great Shintu shall untangle it for you, piece by piece—"
Shintu suddenly fell silent.
He had deliberately spoken in riddles to tease the boy who struck him as so monstrously gifted. But Jin Seongun's form was already growing faint.
"W-walk! Try walking! It's hard to move in that state, you know!"
Thud. Thud. Thud...
Then even the footsteps faded away.
Shintu flung his energy sense wide. This was a void bordering on the infinite—there was, in truth, no better place for hiding. And even accounting for that...
Is he over there?
Shintu failing to instantly pin down Jin Seongun's movements was no ordinary feat. Only when he concentrated the flow of qi did the boy become visible. It was not a real battle, so there was no killing intent; he had almost no sweat or breath; and the featureless void made it hard to distinguish one patch of space from another. Even granting all of that, what Jin Seongun had just shown left the gods stunned.
"You absolute monster!"
Shintu shouted out of genuine, wounded indignation. Shadowless Steps and Myriad-Mile Shadow Travel alike were hard-won insights that he, blessed with prodigious martial talent, had spent decades researching and honing. He had spent his whole life taking things from others, yet for the first time he almost felt robbed himself.
"And it was my teaching, which somehow makes it worse. Don't you dare go around copying other people's martial arts."
He almost added, you get a blade for that, you know—then shut his mouth, figuring there weren't many men alive who could put a blade to Jin Seongun.
Before long, Jin Seongun revealed himself, looking thoroughly pleased with the fun new trick he'd learned.
"Thank you, Elder Shintu."
"Don't call me elder. I died young, younger than you'd think."
"Then... big brother?"
"You insufferable brat... Just call me Master."
Jin Seongun's eyes widened—something that almost never happened. In his heart he had always regarded the Martial Gods as his teachers, but since he was not a formal disciple, he had never put it into words. Yet in this moment, it was acknowledged. The man who possessed the greatest lightness art in all of history had, before the other gods, officially declared Jin Seongun his disciple.
"What are you gawking at? When a master-disciple bond is formed, the proper thing is to offer a formal bow of respect."
Jin Seongun moved to bow—and at that very instant, Sangwang cut in.
"I've considered you my disciple from the start, so you'll bow to me first."
"You—you thieving dog!"
"I built everything I have with my own two hands. You've spent your whole life pilfering other people's things. Which of us is the thief?"
"..."
Shintu trembled with fury. Jin Seongun looked back and forth between the two of them. Just as they say: a merchant and a thief can never be friends.
"Is it really so important who receives the bow first?"
When Jin Seongun asked this so casually, Sangwang nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Absolutely. To be precise, I don't mind if you beat me to it with Sword Immortal or Daji. But letting this thief get there first? Unthinkable."
"I see."
Jin Seongun accepted this with easy understanding—whereupon Shintu flew into an even greater tantrum. Paying him no mind, Jin Seongun bowed and spoke.
"Then I'll offer it to you both at once. Masters."
The bow was made. Sangwang and Shintu looked at each other.
Me, bound together with this thief.
And me, with a money-grubbing merchant?
It was, plain and simple, an unpleasant situation for both. But the formal bow had already been made, and so the two men and Jin Seongun were now, formally, master and disciples.
From there, Jin Seongun's training continued. He carried forward, one by one, everything the Martial Gods taught him. And as he was unfolding Sword Immortal's Fire Dragon Escaping Sword for the last of it, Sword Immortal spoke up.
"Something troubles you."
"How did you know?"
"So long as you hold a sword, you cannot hide your heart before me."
Put another way: having attained mastery of the sword, he could see plainly into the heart behind every stroke an opponent made. It was a confidence worthy of the Sword Immortal himself.
"Speak. You are not yet in a position to call me master, but a senior of the murim I am, so I will wrestle with this trouble of yours as far as my strength reaches."
Perhaps because he had just watched Shintu and Sangwang's childish bickering, Sword Immortal's presence felt all the more reassuring.
"The preparations for Seongun Inn are all but complete. With the Prosperity Assembly gone and the Merchants' Guild in, we've even secured the most important thing: the liquor."
"A fine turn of affairs."
"And yet I cannot find a sleeping dragon."
Sword Immortal, Daji, and Shintu all nodded, though none of them seemed to truly understand. Then Sangwang stepped forward.
"Let's all think it through. Say Sword Immortal has a goal he has labored his whole life to achieve. It stands within arm's reach. Every preparation is made—yet for the lack of a single piece, it slips from his grasp, and all he can do is wait. Think he'd manage to focus on anything else?"
"Difficult, I'd imagine."
"Precisely. Ten years is a blink to us—but to Seongun, it's half a lifetime."
In other words, the rise and fall of the inn mattered a great deal to Jin Seongun. Only then did the other gods wear expressions of understanding. It took a merchant to understand a merchant's heart, as ever.
"Even so, time will solve it. If Seongun simply bears it patiently and devotes himself to the sword, then in due course—"
"Elder Sword Immortal. Enough of the dull speeches—do the thing. That thing you do."
"What thing?"
"Come now, you know. What the fortune-tellers do."
Sword Immortal cleared his throat awkwardly.
"That is altogether different from the babbling of charlatans. I read and perceive the workings of Heaven itself, which makes it possible for me to—"
"Exactly. So use that gift and tell us when Seongun's problem will be solved."
"It is no simple matter!"
"Your junior of a thousand generations is making the saddest face you've ever seen, and you're heartless."
"Hnngh."
Sword Immortal let out a long hum. The burden was, in truth, considerable. But it was also true that he regarded Jin Seongun as something of a disciple, and if a master could ease his disciple's troubles, then he ought to. Above all, when he considered the weight of the burden he intended one day to place upon the boy's shoulders...
"If your trouble were resolved, could you return your focus to training?"
"Yes. Until the next trouble comes along, anyway."
It was an honest answer—perhaps too honest—but not a wrong one, so Sword Immortal hummed once more.
"...Wait, then."
Sword Immortal sighed, folded himself into a cross-legged position, and closed his eyes. Suddenly, a pale blue-white qi began to wrap softly around him. The energy spread wider and wider, and then, in an instant, erupted into a blinding radiance. For a moment, this void like a night sky shone bright as noonday.
Soon after, Sword Immortal opened his eyes again.
"Worry for nothing. A man of the finest caliber as a sleeping dragon will come to find you."
"When?"
"Tonight."
Jin Seongun's eyes widened. At last, the sleeping dragon would come. Sword Immortal himself had said it, so he had every reason to believe it.
And at that very moment, Sword Immortal coughed up a fistful of murky, blackish blood.
Jin Seongun's expression froze. Then Sangwang spoke.
"No need for that face. Such a trifling thing could never trouble a man like Sword Immortal. He is a being far, far beyond what you imagine, Seongun."
Indeed, Sword Immortal looked entirely unbothered as he kindled the True Samadhi Fire and burned the blood away.
Afterward, Jin Seongun trained with the sword in considerably lighter spirits, then stepped outside.
Night, with rain falling in sheets. He raised a palm to shield his eyes from the water, and suddenly his energy sense began picking up something alien.
Jin Seongun exhaled a slow breath and flung his senses wide. The darkness, the drumming rain, and the wind whipping wildly every which way all interfered—yet in the end, he detected ten presences.
Two belonged to the Guild Leader and Vice Leader, who had not yet left Yichang. The other eight... resembled Shintu's. Thieves would never travel in packs, so they had to be assassins.
He said a sleeping dragon would come...
Instead, the place was crawling with killers. They were almost certainly the ones the Prosperity Assembly Leader had spoken of before dying: the Red Tiger Seven Ghosts.
Seven Ghosts—so why eight of them?
The thought flickered and passed. He could simply go and count. Jin Seongun slipped quietly into the inn and took up the Black Wolf Sabre.
In an instant, six of the eight were converging on the inn. They came with their own forms of concealment, slow and careful—but to Jin Seongun, who had just faced Shintu's stealth firsthand, they felt hopelessly crude.
The six killers exchanged glances from their separate positions, and the one who appeared to be their leader gestured toward the inn with a flick of his hand. At once, they entered without a sound, without a stir.
Their eyes swept the interior. The target was that waiter who knew a smattering of martial arts. Kill him in a blink, then burn the whole inn to the ground—that was the plan.
He did not seem to be here. Deep in the night, he had presumably gone to bed.
Welcome news for assassins. Killing a sleeping man was a hundred times easier.
Just as Il-gwi, leader of the Red Tiger Seven Ghosts, drew his dagger in one smooth motion—
a voice sounded right beside his ear.
"You're definitely not guests."
Il-gwi's eyes went wide, and in a flash he tore the distance open. Like the seasoned killer he was, he loosed a throwing knife from his sleeve. The other five assassins let fly in the same instant.
Thwack-thwack-thwack—!
The span of a single breath, and a dozen-odd blades stood buried in the wooden floorboards. And a man stood one step to the side, as if he had been there all along. Jin Seongun looked the killers over and spoke.
"Bill the repair costs to the bounty."
"..."
The killers exchanged a single glance and melted into the darkness.
A deep night of pouring rain. The assassins considered it absolutely favorable terrain. Fighting among the shadows scattered through the inn, the waiter wouldn't know what hit him.
Just as they were thinking it—
Swooosh.
Jin Seongun vanished from their sight.
Myriad-Mile Shadow Travel.
Having witnessed the greatest shadow art in all of history, the pupils of the killers began to tremble like aspen leaves.