White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle
White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle.
It was a kind of hawk, a spiritual beast that lived in Baekdu Mountain, the sacred peak of our Korean people.
If the Central Plains had spiritual beasts like the human-faced spider or the ten-thousand-year lotus carp, then Joseon had the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle.
That’s also why it hasn’t been caught by Baekmun Express yet.
Spiritual beasts were said to be smarter than most humans, after all.
And if a Korean was going to make a name in Murim, he ought to have at least one Blue Hawk at his side.
That’s in the story about some rugged hero who handled bows and swords like a ghost.
And a great swordmaster should definitely have a hawk.
Ever since the day I was called the Great Swordmaster, for some reason hawks had started to feel weirdly familiar.
I’d just said I’d become a righteous treasure thief for the sake of the protagonist, but this treasure wasn’t all that important.
If anything, you could call it a side treasure.
And the timing for getting it was around the middle to late part of the story.
If I snatched this, it wouldn’t be a big deal.
Besides, as far as I remembered, the protagonist never even raised the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle.
-Kieeek! Kiek!
-What am I supposed to do with this thing? It won’t listen to me no matter what I do.
-Then would you like to give it to me?
True to its nature as a spiritual beast, it picked its master carefully, which left the protagonist at a loss, so he handed the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle over at the heroine’s suggestion.
And that evening, on the protagonist’s dinner table, there was a tenderly simmered chicken soup.
Not just any chicken soup, either, but one made with Joseon ginseng, said to be the best tonic for virility.
-Hehe, I made it based on the Joseon dish called samgyetang. Enjoy.
-Hurk.
The White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle, torn from its homeland of Baekdu Mountain and dragged to a land thousands of miles away, ended up becoming a sturdy virility booster for the protagonist together with its hometown friend, Joseon ginseng.
Seriously, eating a hawk.
That was the sort of thing those Central Plains barbarians—people who’d eat anything that wasn’t human, except in a few cases—would do.
Now that I was possessed, I couldn’t sit by and watch that kind of garbage.
And it was still at the stage where rumors were only just starting to spread, but once they really took off, competition would get fierce.
I needed to move fast.
Just a little longer, sweetheart. Daddy’s coming soon.
Swish—!
Just as Geom Mujin was about to rise after gulping down his Americano in one go, he caught a conversation between people who looked like martial artists, and the topic was impossible to ignore.
“Have you heard? They say the Mount Hua Sect got turned upside down this time.”
“The Mount Hua Sect? Why would that place be causing such a stir when it’s in the middle of a festival?”
“They say the Great Swordmaster showed up in Shaanxi.”
“That barbarian swordsman from the Seven Martial Stars?”
What was the most famous trail Geom Mujin had left on Murim?
Was it Beigyeonhaeng, when he stormed the Orthodox and Unorthodox sects alike just to witness the swordsmanship of Murim?
Was it Yongbongjipyeon, when he crashed the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering and beat down the so-called dragons and phoenixes?
Was it Wudang Sorrow, when he broke through Wudang’s Taiji Thirty-Two Sword Array and stole the Taecheong Shindan?
To this day, those incidents were still talked about among the gossips, but they weren’t what made him a legend.
About five years ago, a great war had broken out across Murim.
The Orthodox-Demonic War.
The war between the righteous and the demonic—two forces that could never coexist.
The flames of war had scorched all of Murim, but who was it that said heroes are born in times of chaos?
When martial artists were dying, common folk starving, and suffering reached its peak, heroes emerged!
Like comets, they swept down and changed the tide by defeating the demon lords.
Not only that, they passed through the very best of the demonic sect— the Eight Demon Generals—and in the end, they brought down the Demon Lord himself!
They brought the three-year-long Orthodox-Demonic War to an end.
People call those seven heroes by this name.
The stars that rose over the dark Murim like the night sky itself—Murim’s heroes.
The Seven Martial Stars.
And among them, the one who had proudly claimed a seat despite being from another race, a Joseon native, was none other than Geom Mujin.
“But why the hell did that barbarian show up there?”
For someone called a hero, he sure spoke without much respect.
“He came chasing some bandits all the way to Shaanxi and cut them down, then cut down a Cheonmu Academy student he met there too.”
“That black-haired barbarian bastard! He killed a Cheonmu Academy student!? I knew there was something black inside that black hair of his!”
One of the martial artists slammed the table and exploded in rage.
I only killed the bandits.
He’d wounded the protagonist too, sure, but it had been more of a serious-but-not-serious, light-but-not-light kind of injury.
And who the hell is this Central Plains barbarian calling someone else a barbarian?
Geom Mujin glared at the blue back of the racist bastard.
It was a hair color that couldn’t naturally exist anywhere— not in the East, and frankly not even in the West.
It wasn’t just that man; the others in the tavern were all sporting hair in vivid reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, indigos, and purples.
Like some kind of MapleStory cast, their hair was absurdly colorful, and shockingly enough, it was all natural.
The people of the Central Plains in My Murim Academy all had hair colors like that.
Someone with black hair like me was a foreigner—by Central Plains standards, a barbarian.
Jesus, what the hell kind of setting is this?
I already knew from the game that everyone’s hair had been turned into some kind of color festival.
Heck, even the protagonist’s hair was a silvery gray.
But I only found out after possessing this body that black hair equaled barbarian.
The game company was clearly full of anti-Korean bastards.
Anyway, that was why that guy was throwing his tantrum.
Thinking back to the early days after possession—no, that wasn’t important right now.
Geom Mujin listened closely to the martial artists’ conversation.
“If that barbarian swordsman had been standing in front of me, I’d have personally taught him the way of the Central Plains, damn it!”
He toyed with the bamboo hat on his head, wondering if the guy really would show up right in front of that blue-haired lunatic.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think the Seven Martial Stars are a joke? And I heard that student didn’t die.”
He decided to let it slide at the green-haired man’s words—the racist’s friend, apparently.
The dao of the martial world still had some life in it, at least.
“Then why the hell was there such a commotion?”
“Have you forgotten that there’s a Seven Martial Star in the Mount Hua Sect too?”
“Maehyang Sword Maiden!”
The blue-haired man cried out with his eyes wide.
Unlike Geom Mujin’s reaction to the name, his voice was full of admiration, longing, and devotion.
“Still, if the Great Swordmaster appeared in Shaanxi, in Mount Hua Sect territory, I guess it makes sense.”
There’s a saying in Murim.
Maehyang Sword Maiden, the most beautiful woman in Shaanxi and one of the Seven Martial Stars, had two taboos.
The first was her epithet.
It was a title that made righteous sect members look up to her and demonic trash tremble in fear, yet for some reason she hated it to the point of disgust.
For the hero of the Orthodox-Demonic War to hate the epithet given to her—ordinary people would never understand.
And there was another taboo besides that, one even more important.
Maehyang Sword Maiden’s second taboo was the Great Swordmaster, Geom Mujin, who was in the same Seven Martial Stars as her.
She had long held a fierce grudge against him and always searched for the chance to take his head.
She’d restrained herself during the Orthodox-Demonic War, but aside from that, whenever they met, they fought to the death.
Some people who saw that said that when the Sword Maiden met the Great Swordmaster, she turned into a Sword Ghost.
What exactly drove her to such extremes, only the two of them would know.
“Not only did the Great Swordmaster show up in her front yard, he also made blood spill from a Cheonmu Academy student. No wonder she flipped out.”
The racist nodded vigorously.
My condolences.
He silently mourned the Mount Hua disciples who had to bear the brunt of her fury.
“So Maehyang Sword Maiden went after him? Rumor has it she’d be the type to do that.”
At the word “pursuit,” Geom Mujin’s ears perked up.
There was a reason he wore a bamboo hat wherever he went.
“No. Apparently she focused on treating the injured student and didn’t pursue him.”
“Krrr! As expected of Maehyang Sword Maiden. Putting a junior ahead of revenge! Unlike some barbarian bastard!”
Putting the racism aside, Geom Mujin let out a sigh of relief.
She’s not the type to ignore someone who’s been hurt.
That was why I’d acted so boldly in Shaanxi, but there was precedent.
-Geom Muuuujiiiiin!!
Just imagining her chasing after him, trailing plum blossom petals made of killing intent and sword aura, was enough to make him shiver.
Better finish up here and get the hell out as soon as possible.
Before that, though...
The hand holding the knife vanished in an instant, leaving behind a blur.
Slash—!
“Ah, but why did that barbarian bastard cut down the student—urk!?”
Thunk—!!
At that moment, the back leg of the chair the blue-haired martial artist was sitting on snapped—no, was cleanly severed—and he toppled backward.
The fresh mango juice in his hand spilled everywhere, coating his face and nostrils with its sticky sweetness.
“Kuh...! Gahk...!”
“H-Hey! Are you all right!?”
“W-Why did the chair suddenly—”
“Oops, be careful, everyone. Looks like the chair was defective and broke.”
A black-haired man in a bamboo hat walked between the two bewildered men.
“N-no, if it broke, the cut’s too smooth—”
“Keeper! Bill me.”
Having given that damned racist a proper lesson, he fluttered the bill in his hand.
“Yes sir! That’ll be 12,000 gold!”
“Here.”
“Thank you! Great hero!”
“Wait a sec.”
After paying, he called the keeper back as the man was about to leave.
“What is it, sir?”
Looking at him in confusion, Geom Mujin asked in a strict, grave, and deadly serious tone,
“Which butcher in this town is the best?”
Whether or not I could catch the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle depended on the butcher’s skill.
* * *
Daebie Mountain was a mountain range on the border of Hubei, Anhui, and Henan provinces.
Because of that geographical feature, it was one of the mountains frequently used by trade caravans and escort agencies.
Geom Mujin was now climbing Daebie Mountain with his lightfoot skill, moving swiftly up the slope.
Tap-dat! Tap!
His figure cut through the mountain without hesitation.
As the scenery kept shifting in a blur, eyesight sharpened beyond the realm of the superhuman caught sight of something.
They were escort guards wearing uniforms marked with the insignia of Baekmun Express.
So those guys are Baekmun Express.
I paused for a moment and watched them.
The escorts were rummaging through the trees or setting traps hidden under dirt and leaves with nets.
Geom Mujin clicked his tongue at the sight.
Would a creature that’s started to awaken its intelligence really get caught by that?
From what I’d heard, they’d been running around like crazy for nearly half a month, and this was the setup they’d prepared?
As expected of primitive, backward Central Plains people, there was nothing to be done.
What, were they going to put meat out as bait now?
“Captain, we’ve made the traps, but do you really think something like this will work?”
One of the escort guards voiced his concern to the search squad leader.
For the past half month, they’d tried everything they could—traps, ambushes, lures, pursuit—just to catch this one damned hawk.
But the thing was so clever it never fell for any bait.
No, worse, it kept toying with the escorts instead.
“Haa... what can we do? Boss says jump, we jump.”
“Damn it! This bug is driving me crazy!”
At that moment, a plump young man came stomping up from behind the escorts, snapping irritably.
Shamelessness was packed into every feature of his face like grease in belly fat.
“You’re here, Young Master?”
“Yeah. The traps are all ready, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
The escorts bowed deeply toward the young man.
“You’re escort men who eat and breathe escort work, and you can’t even handle one little thing right, so you made me come all the way out here. Tsk.”
“......”
The leader of the search squad grit his teeth and endured the fact that the cause of this mess was the pig in front of him—no, the young master.
“These damn monthly-wage thieves should all be cut down.”
The young master, who seemed to believe that a superior’s mistakes should be cleaned up by the subordinates, kept ranting like a villain from the outer paths.
“We’re terribly sorry. This time, we’ll be sure to—”
“Enough. Hey, bring out that thing we prepared.”
“Yes.”
At the young master’s gesture, one of the escorts who had come with him opened the wooden chest on his back and took out its contents.
When I saw it, my eyes went wide.
That was because what came out of the chest wasn’t meat, but a hawk statue.
“A special order, made by the best artisan in Hubei, Lia-rudol, just for incompetent trash like you.”
“Gasp! You mean a work by that Lia-rudol whose beauty surpasses reason and brings sudden tears!?”
“As expected! It really does look real!”
“The production cost will be deducted from your monthly wages.”
“.......”
“Why are you all just standing there? Hurry up and get back to work. Work.”
The escorts were astonished by the statue’s quality, but the young master doused them with cold water.
Even I, an artistic philistine, could tell it was a first-rate piece.
The posture of the beak carefully preening its feathers had such vibrant life and graceful lines—huh?
Graceful lines?
“I don’t know whether it’s a White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle or a Steamed Bun Heavenly Awakening Eagle, but since it’s male, instinct is instinct.”
The young master chuckled with confidence.
An escort guard placed the hawk statue near the trap.
Then they hurriedly hid themselves in the brush, and after several minutes...
Kieeeek—!!
“!”
A shriek rang out that instantly tightened the nerves of the birds of Daebie Mountain, who had been getting lazy.
Wait, this actually works?
A tiny dot in the sky came flying rapidly in this direction.
When I sharpened my vision, I saw a hawk with white feathers on its head, living up to the name “White-Headed.”
The White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle’s gaze was fixed on the hawk statue.
Huff— huff—!
It was breathing hard through flared nostrils, as if its tastes had been hit squarely.
Was that thing really male?
Well, I hadn’t known that.
If there’s a pretty female of the species, a male’s instinct is to slam into it first and ask questions later, whether it’s real or fake.
Whooosh—!
Filled with bloodlust and lust alike, the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle charged forward for a rapid female-bombing assault, then suddenly sensed something off.
“?”
In its head, it was already imagining itself and its mate laying thirty eggs, then watching their grown children fly out of the nest, and something felt wrong.
The closer it got, the less life it could feel from her.
It was like a statue.
“Now!”
Just as the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle drew near the ground, the escort leader shouted.
Snick—!
They cut the rope connected to the trap, and the hidden net shot up into the air.
“Hahaha! You idiot bird-brain! You never dreamed it was fake, did you!”
It was a trap it would have noticed under normal circumstances, but its vision had narrowed, and it failed to catch it in time.
Flap—!
As the net came crashing down on it, the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle beat its wings.
Whoosh—!
Its body, which had been falling from above, shot forward like a bullet.
Less than a second had passed.
That was enough time to slip through the narrowing gap in the net.
“Crazy! What the hell is that!?”
“That’s impossible!”
“No, forget that—it's coming this way! Get ready to capture it!”
The captain hurriedly shouted orders in the face of the absurd aerial maneuver.
For a moment it had been ruled by male instincts, but the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle was smarter than most humans, and it understood the situation.
The fake ideal woman.
The trap that had been set.
And the words that pig—or maybe human—had been shouting.
Its innocence, at the age of three, had been deceived.
By these primitive Central Plains barbarians!
“Kieeeek!!”
Hawks are animals that can hit a maximum falling speed of 389 kilometers per hour.
Its speed had slowed a little from performing aerial maneuvers, but even so, the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle still had enough momentum to attack the captain directly.
“Aaaagh!”
As the eagle swept past the side of his face, blood and screams burst out together.
Clutched in the hawk’s talons was the captain’s ear.
“Captain!”
“Are you all right...!?”
“Don’t take your eyes off it!”
The captain shouted at the subordinates trying to support him, but it was too late.
Already back in the air and resetting its stance, the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle resumed its attack.
There was no mercy in a male’s revenge after having his purity deceived.
Every time the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle dove, they lost hair, ears, and, if it got really bad, even eyeballs.
They tried resisting with nets and arrows, but those were nothing more than wallpaper to a White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle that had set its mind on this.
“Aaaah!”
The last remaining escort collapsed after having the crown of his head nearly torn off.
“H-Hiiik!?”
The young master, now alone with the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle, let out a shrill scream.
“Kieeeek!!”
“Y-you bastards! Get up and protect me, you—AAAAAH!”
Slash-skrraaaat—!!
The plump-legged young master tried to flee, but he was mercilessly torn apart.
Scratched and plucked by claws.
Pierced and plucked by the beak.
Thud—!
Especially the one the eagle had taken a deep dislike to: his hair had been plucked out by nearly ninety percent.
“Uuuh... my haiiiir!”
Having finished its revenge, the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle stared at the hawk statue for a moment, then beat its wings and flew away.
I loved you. You bitch.
That was what the departing White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle’s back seemed to say.
If you were going to use a beauty trap—no, a female trap, you should’ve brought a real one. Why the hell bring a fake?
Geom Mujin shook his head.
Still, intentional or not, the situation had become favorable to me.
After such a noisy brawl, it would be hungry soon enough.
I gathered my bundle and moved on.
* * *
I climbed to a lonely mountain peak with rough terrain, then unpacked my bundle in a rush.
I cut nearby branches to a suitable size, lit them with Sammae Jinhwa, and placed a pot over the fire before pouring in water.
In the meantime, I drew my waist sword and prepared vegetables like green onions, bean sprouts, and blanched cabbage leaves.
Swish-swish-swish!
With brilliant flashes of sword light, the neatly sliced vegetables went plop, plop, plop into the pot.
Then I mixed up the sauce I’d prepared—gochujang, soup soy sauce, doenjang, red pepper powder, minced garlic, and... let’s just call the rest “etc.” in generous proportions—and shook it all together.
A spicy aroma rose into the air.
“Hah~ now that’s a smell worth killing for.”
Even now it was already the kind of meal that stole rice for a living, but the protagonist still hadn’t appeared.
I took out the secret ingredient I’d bought from the butcher recommended by the tavern keeper after paying him a little extra.
Fwoosh-fwoosh—
It was a semisolid lump with a dark red sheen.
As a Korean with broth instead of blood running through his veins, I could tell at a glance.
This was top-grade congealed blood.
I immediately dropped the congealed blood into the pot.
Plunk, plunk—! Bubble, bubble—!
All that was left now was patience and a long boil.
As the smell of soup rode the wind and spread far and wide, something soon snagged on my senses.
Kieeeeeeek—!!!
Excited in a completely different sense from before, the White-Headed Heavenly Awakening Eagle was flying straight toward me.
“Heh. So you can’t resist sundae hangover soup either, huh, if you’re from Joseon.”
Looking at its beak shining with saliva, I grinned.
Come on. Have a taste.