The Man Without Heavenly Secrets
Baekdu Mountain was one of those rare places where the path to the heavens lay open. If you named spots like that in the Central Plains, you'd point to sacred sites like Kunlun Mountain of Taoism, Wudang Mountain hailed as the origin of swords, and Song Mountain, stronghold of Shaolin.
Heukam Dosa rolled dice made from a few grains of millet and animal bones. As a master of divination, he possessed the ability to read the heavenly secrets. How extraordinary it was that a human could glimpse the will of the heavens—something an ordinary person couldn't even fathom. Yet even he had read them only a handful of times. As he rolled the dice, Heukam Dosa recalled the last occasion.
'The first was when I discarded my name, the second when I met that Han guy, and the last when I took in Sawol. Hmm. Even the Supreme Lord must be shaking his head. A Daoist like me spilling so many heavenly secrets.'
The world was full of blowhards bragging about reading the heavens, but grasping heaven's will was no easy feat. Even in the Central Plains, you could count such Daoists on one hand. Heaven, like any person, hated having its inner thoughts exposed.
'That sly bastard. If even Han likes him, he's no ordinary fellow.'
No matter how profound a Daoist, the glimpse they caught of heaven's will was severely limited. Heukam Dosa kept rolling the dice. Defining heavenly secrets precisely was incredibly tough. Some called it fate, others life itself, and many dismissed it as superstition. Even Heukam Dosa, who prided himself on the skill, couldn't explain it perfectly. In the simplest terms he could muster, it was the will of the world itself. Thus, heavenly secrets governed the world from a grand, macroscopic view. But that didn't mean reading them foretold a fixed future. Humans lived with free will within that world. Two people starting from Baekdu and heading west might end up in Youzhou or Tianjin. The overall direction was the heavenly secrets; the specific paths they took were their individual lives. Heukam Dosa believed the future emerged from the tangle of the world's will and human choices.
'Hmm?'
Something felt off. After five rolls or so, Heukam Dosa sensed something amiss. No matter how he tried, the heavenly secrets wouldn't reveal themselves. He shook his head, pondering what he'd done wrong. It had been ages since his last reading, but a Daoist like him wouldn't forget the method. It wasn't something you could forget even if you tried.
'What's going on? Has the heavenly path closed?'
Heukam Dosa packed away the millet and dice, then tried reading again. This time, the subject wasn't Jongchil but his disciple, Jin Sawol. What happened next stunned him.
'!?'
The heavenly secrets were warped. When he'd first taken her in and read her fate, Heukam Dosa had seen a massive calamity looming over Jin Sawol. If she couldn't evade the disaster striking within nine years, death awaited her.
'Telling her would have been a massive leak of heavenly secrets, so I held back. But what trick is this? Sawol's heavenly secrets have changed!'
Heavenly secrets didn't shift easily. The world clung to its intentions more stubbornly than any mule. As far as he knew, only he and Han Kangwoo could force such changes. Yet neither he nor Han had done a thing, and here was Jin Sawol's fate altered. The implications were huge. A shift in heavenly secrets meant her life's direction had veered off course. And now, it was utterly different from before—someone else's entirely. Worse, the new form was bizarre, riddled with contradictions.
'The Gate of Life and the Gate of Death open at once? Does this mean death or survival? It's like life and death overlap. What the hell is this? Is it even possible?'
Life and death superimposed. The kind of uncertain duality that would leave cats wailing in despair shrouded Jin Sawol's fate. An arrow once loosed might waver in trajectory, but it couldn't reverse direction entirely. No way a westbound shaft suddenly veered east. Jin Sawol's heavenly secrets should have been the same. Yet what Heukam Dosa saw defied common sense.
'Did someone on my level or Han's meddle in Sawol's fate? Why this change...'
Heukam Dosa mulled the cause. The only recent change in Jin Sawol's life was meeting that man, Jongchil.
'Then that earlier result...'
He read Jongchil's heavenly secrets again.
'Just as I thought—I'm not mistaken. That Jongchil... he has no heavenly secrets! It's not that they won't show; they're simply absent! Can a human even be like this?'
No heavenly secrets. Unheard of, unseen. Realization dawned, and fear gripped Heukam Dosa. Where in the world was a person without heavenly secrets? It was like a soulless body, an emperor without his seal, land without sky. Heavenly secrets and humans were paired like sun and moon— one missing made no sense. A person without them was as good as dead.
'Am I seeing a jiangshi?'
No—even jiangshi had heavenly secrets. Heukam Dosa could only conclude he'd glimpsed something inhuman. Was he excluded from the world? Or unknown even to it? Even the monkey from Huaguo Mountain who'd erased his name from the Registry of Life and Death had heavenly secrets. How could this ordinary-looking man lack them?
'No wonder Han took an interest! A man without heavenly secrets... What the hell is he?'
Heukam Dosa shot to his feet. No time for petty naming schemes—he needed to meet Jongchil now. He stormed out, but Jongchil was gone. His disciple Jin Sawol had vanished too. No big deal for Heukam Dosa; finding people was child's play.
"Unja! Go find someone for me! That shady-looking young man!"
A small puff of cloud zipped down from the sky. Hearing the request, it shot back up. If Han Kangwoo had his golden eagle, Heukam Dosa had Unja.
*-*-*
What technique would Jin Sawol unleash? She stepped up so confidently; her skills had to be exceptional. Direct instruction from Heukam Dosa meant tricky Daoist arts for sure.
'Even setting everything else aside, that Mukhyeol Yeomju alone makes her a handful.'
My gaze drifted to the bead bracelet on Jin Sawol's arm. True to its name, it shimmered with a dark blood hue, exuding an eerie aura. Maybe I just knew its power, but still.
"Alright then... How about we start when that squirrel on the tree moves?"
"Got it."
The moment Jin Sawol replied, the squirrel bolted. In a flash, her body lunged forward. She kicked off the ground, hurtling my way with a punch. A clean, powerful strike—no wasted motion.
'Not just some maid who does laundry and cooks. Makes sense—she's Heukam Dosa's disciple.'
I'd pictured Daoist arts as magic-like, but her martial prowess was no joke. Most grown men would get pummeled without countering. Dodging her attack was easy, though. Plenty of power and speed, but too straightforward. She clearly hadn't specialized in martial arts. Plus, she wore a jeogori top and skirt. Roomy enough for farm work, but not sparring. The fluttering hem gave me a nice view instead.
Whoosh! First round was probing. I focused on evading her flurry of punches. This spar wasn't about winning outright. Capturing her interest came first, gauging her strength second. Playing it even—bickering back and forth—would boost goodwill and reveal her limits better than dominating or getting crushed. If pure victory was the goal, I'd have hit her with Time Pause from the start.
'Though Mukhyeol Yeomju might block a sneak win...'
Jin Sawol's fist sliced the air. Left to right, top to bottom, sideways, uppercut, diagonal sweep—like a sandstorm. A breathless barrage, but with my mid-200s agility, it was leisurely. No tension at all; I slipped away lightly.
"You can't just dodge forever, you know?"
Jin Sawol spoke mid-punch, feigning calm but laced with anxiety—her attacks weren't landing.
"Who knows? Can I?"
I tossed back a far more relaxed reply. Suddenly, she planted her left hand on the ground. Amid the chaotic flurry, this unrelated move set my senses buzzing.
'She's got a trick up her sleeve.'
"Gotcha!"
"!?"
My body froze stiff. Every joint locked like it'd been coated in plaster. Her uncanny technique had pinned my movements—it was obvious.
"Shadow pinning. Pretty neat, huh?"
Jin Sawol held my shadow down with her left hand. One of Heukam Dosa's Daoist arts, no doubt. He rode clouds like a half-immortal; weird powers fit him perfectly. This felt like the Daoist fighting style I'd imagined.
'Tricky as expected.'
Luckily, she couldn't move either while pinning. Let go to strike, and I'd be free. Not ideal for one-on-one.
"I can see what you're thinking."
Jin Sawol smirked—a damn alluring smile that got me hard. Shit, how crude. She drew a silver ritual dagger from her bosom. Elegant Hanja etched on the hilt—maybe Heukam Dosa's handiwork. She stabbed my shadow with it.
"Ngh!"
The immobilizing pressure tripled—heavy as before, but now crushing. She shook out her hand and stood.
"How's that? Even those bandit scum won't catch you now, right?"
Jin Sawol grinned, utterly at ease.