What Happened in the Meantime
The morning after the chaotic banquet at the North Sea Ice Palace.
Through my dawn training beneath the starlight, I felt my Seongryeong-gi swell to an enormous degree. The good deed of risking my life to save a young girl had mercilessly crushed the malevolent star energy in my upper dantian. And in the gap left by that cowering slaughter energy, the Seongun Simbeop had stolen the fullest measure of star power and refined it into internal energy.
At the center of my dantian, Seongryeong-gi bloated to a heaven-shaking size, shining like a galaxy. That pure white tide shoved the tiny remnants of Wolryeonggi and Yeolyanggi into the corners, where they huddled, silenced by the overwhelming presence of the star qi.
The Yeolyanggi that had nearly melted every organ in my body was especially diminished; I had shared some of its power with Seol Soyeong, and now it cowered even lower. Even so, it remained Jeok-il’s energy—careless handling could still burn my entire body to ash. And Wolryeonggi, if left unchecked, could let madness seep into mind and body.
Fortunately the Seongryeong-gi I had gathered from scattered starlight, though the weakest of the three in raw force, possessed a calm, encompassing nature that kept the other two in balance. That was the strange phenomenon unfolding inside the small universe of my body.
For now the other two energies were suppressed and safe, but Jeok-il had warned that if their power ever surged beyond human limits for some unknown reason, the strain could shatter my physical vessel. Immense strength, then—but strength that had to be handled with the utmost care. Freshly reminded of the terrifying things I was carrying inside me, I prepared to leave the North Sea Ice Palace.
“Young Hero Dan Mujin, are you feeling all right? The elders of our North Sea Ice Palace clung to you rather bothersomely last night…”
A slender voice tickled my ear. I turned and found a golden-haired, blue-eyed girl watching me with a worried expression.
“I’m fine. I didn’t sleep a wink because of dawn training, but I’m young enough that it doesn’t matter.”
The speaker was Seol Soyeong, youngest daughter of the North Sea Ice Palace. I hadn’t drunk any alcohol the night before, yet the thoroughly intoxicated members of the palace had dragged me every which way until my head spun. Celebrating the young lady’s complete recovery, they had all gotten properly plastered—especially the elders, who latched onto me and refused to let go while going on about how they each had daughters of marriageable age. On top of that I had trained until dawn to steal the Heavenly Killing Star’s power, so I truly hadn’t slept a single moment. Yet thanks to the massive gains, my mind was clearer than ever.
“What about you? Is your body all right now?”
At my question Seol Soyeong nodded vigorously, her face full of life. The pale complexion was gone; the heavenly tribulation she had been born with no longer tormented her.
“It’s all thanks to you, Young Hero. My body feels so light I could fly.”
As if to prove it she smiled brightly, flung her arms wide, and spun in a circle. Vitality I had never seen in her before seemed to radiate from every part of her. From the elders’ talk the previous night I had learned that, having overcome the Nine Yin Blocked Meridians and filled her body with refined Yang energy, she could achieve tremendous results if she trained martial arts. She herself had said she wanted to learn the ice arts she had long ignored and become of use to her family. Double joy for the northern clan, then.
“In that case I’d better keep this for your ice arts progress instead of selling it.”
I took the Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence from its wooden box and dangled it before her eyes. Even just held in the hand it radiated a cold that sank into the bone. The moment I clicked it back into the special box, the chill that had settled over the space seemed to withdraw.
“…You don’t have to do that.”
“The Palace Lord of the North Sea Ice Palace was extremely insistent. He said they will definitely buy it back. His determination to restore the clan’s finances is impressive.”
Come to think of it, the warriors of the North Sea Ice Palace were mysterious beings who could form ice even in midsummer. On a scorching day with the sun blazing down, just producing ice in front of the imperial family could fetch a fortune… but that sort of capitalist business proposal would never land with the rigid martial artists of this world.
“Then are you returning to the Central Plains now, Young Hero?”
Seeing me pack the wooden box and various other belongings as I left the room, Seol Soyeong asked about my next destination.
“I’ve finished every commission I took. Time for the outsider to return to his place.”
Just as they say a two-eyed man is the abnormal one in a village of one-eyed people, we stood out rather sharply among the Western-looking folk of the north. At the word “outsider,” Seol Soyeong’s expression turned faintly hurt.
“You’re not an outsider. If you ever come back, everyone will welcome you like family. I guarantee it as a blood relative of the North Sea Ice Palace.”
“…Like family, you say.”
I had never really known a proper family, so I wasn’t sure. Still, this North Sea Ice Palace—though the air was bitterly cold—was a warm place for people. The mere fact that Seol Soyeong, abandoned by fate, had grown into such a bright child proved it. And at the banquet both the palace folk and Seol Jindo had kept grabbing me and pressing things on me.
I gazed steadily at Seol Soyeong. She was about the age I had been years ago when I was rolling through back alleys as a beggar. When I simply stared into her blue eyes without speaking, she glanced away and said something strange.
“To people from the Central Plains it must look… a little strange, right?”
I asked back, puzzled.
“What does?”
“My eyes and skin. My hair too… My sister said people look at her as if they’ve seen a ghost.”
Come to think of it, Seol Sakwha had already grown sick of the racial prejudice of the Central Plains from her travels back and forth.
“Not really. You’re just pretty.”
Her delicate features felt more like seeing a Western actress up close—fascinating, if anything.
“…I see.”
Unfamiliar with the praise, she scratched her cheek bashfully. Just as Seol Soyeong’s ears were turning red, the agency staff appeared behind her and tossed out dry remarks.
“Here we go again. Flirting with a girl first thing in the morning, Mujin?”
“Exactly. Ever since Ju Wolay he’s been on a real roll.”
Jo Harang and Ilhong had finished packing and come out as well. I couldn’t just let the “flirting with girls” line slide.
“What are you talking about? I was just saying what I honestly think.”
The commission had already been settled; it wasn’t lip service but a pure statement of feeling. Central Plains folk who stared oddly at people of Western features simply wouldn’t understand my aesthetic sense.
“The scariest part is that he actually means it, Jo Harang.”
“He’s not even checking ages anymore. That’s a crime, you know.”
Slanderous remarks, the lot of them. I shook my head as if I didn’t need to listen and stepped away. When I exchanged farewells and showed clear signs of leaving, Seol Soyeong caught my sleeve tightly from behind.
“Young Hero Dan Mujin.”
It was that look again—an atmosphere of some inexplicable bond. The girl everyone had believed was doomed to die, yet who had stubbornly survived, spoke to me.
“You’ll come back, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
If only to settle the matter of the Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence, I would probably return at least once. And if the summer heat ever got too stifling I might come north to escape it.
“You even earned a new nickname in the north, so promise you’ll definitely come back, all right?”
Apparently my recent exploits had earned me a new moniker here beyond Dog-Beating Dragon. Curiosity spiked and I asked what it was.
“What are the people here calling me?”
“The true God of the Staff who defeated the White-Haired Lion King… in other words, the Staff God!”
“…”
Had the Palace Lord of this place—the Ice God himself—bestowed that nickname?
“…Right. Thanks.”
The thought of returning only to be called that made my feelings complicated; I would have to reconsider the visit. And so, with a wave of the hand, I parted from the girl who had been born with a death sentence.
When we returned to Beijing, hot and humid weather greeted us. Unlike the north, the Central Plains were already deep into a summer that roasted the crown of the head. Sweat beading on the bridge of my nose finally made me feel I had truly come home. And in this heat the gifts I had brought from the north would prove their worth all the more.
I set off for Eun Hwaran with a delighted face, intending to report everything I had seen and heard in the north to one of the Ten Great Merchant Group leaders of the world, and to arrange trade goods that could make money for both sides. Ironically, the first person I ran into the moment I crossed the threshold of the Eunseong Merchant Group was Hwang Geolgae.
“Tsk tsk. You unfilial disciple. You vanish for months without a word, and the first person you seek upon return is Merchant Leader Eun Hwaran?”
The gray-bearded Daoist looked down at me with dissatisfaction, thumping the Dog-Beating Staff—the sacred relic of the Beggar Sect—against his shoulder.
“She’s not just the merchant leader. She’s my sister.”
“Sworn sister, you mean. And when you’ve traveled a long road and even brought gifts, the proper thing is to call on your master first.”
I was the only disciple he had taken, yet here he was scolding me for failing in that duty. I had been trying to slip quietly into the merchant leader’s office, but that plan was thoroughly ruined.
“But when I visit my sister she gives me delicious food and listens to my stories. Master, you snatch whatever I’ve got first and then start hitting me.”
I hadn’t expected a refined master-disciple relationship like those of the great orthodox sects. Even so, snatching things from my robes was a bit much—beggar or not.
“You brat, that’s the rod of love. And when you’ve brought something good you should offer it to the Beggar King the moment he asks, before he even has to ask. Have you never lived as a beggar?”
I had graduated from that sort of beggar life back in the alley days. I pulled the wooden box deeper into my robes, trying to hide the sweet specialty I had carried all the way from the north under the chill of the Ten-thousand-year Ice Essence—frozen fruit delicacies.
“You brat. Something did happen up north, didn’t it? Spill every detail and hand over what you brought.”
These were for Eun Hwaran, who always fed me tasty snacks whenever I visited. I wasn’t about to hand them straight over to a violent old man. I drew the long black staff from my back and faced the Dog-Beating Staff.
Hwang Geolgae snorted as if the idea of me using the Dog-Beating Staff Technique against him was ridiculous. Facing him with that technique would indeed be difficult, but this way I might have a slim chance.
Click.
I twisted the hilt of the Jiokchammabong and drew the gleaming sword hidden within. That was the black staff’s true face.
“Well now?”
Seeing how sincerely I refused to talk about what I had experienced and gained in the north, Hwang Geolgae wore an incredulous look.
“What, is there something more you can’t tell this old man?”
If I said I had actually met an otherworldly being and brought back something dangerous, I would definitely get a thrashing. If I was going to be beaten anyway, better to fight freely and take the hits while charging in.
“Come on then, old man.”
The words I had been too afraid to utter before Jeok-il—the otherworldly being who burned like flame, for fear my head might leave my shoulders.
“This brat now spits out ‘old man’ without the slightest hesitation.”
My provocation no longer surprised him much. Hwang Geolgae gave a hollow laugh and drew up his energy. Then a ghostly figure slid forward like an arrow.
“Time you got a proper thrashing for once!”
Having gained another layer of achievement in the north, I thought this time would be different. But no—Hwang Geolgae displayed even more flawless martial prowess than before and subdued me in an instant. Under the steady drumming of his palm against the crown of my head I spilled everything: what I had experienced in the north, the Yeolyanggi, and the existence of Jeok-il. Hwang Geolgae looked up at the sky and heaved a deep sigh.
“Primordial Heavenly Venerable, why do you send me such trials?”
He rubbed his furrowed brow while calling upon the highest deity of Daoism. Then, as if he truly could not stand it any longer, my master raised his fist again.
“This won’t do. You need a few more hits before you come to your senses.”
“…Hey! No violence! Master-disciple violence is out!”
Apparently used even to my incomprehensible cries, he flicked a finger and smacked me square on the forehead with a solid thwack.
“You brat. In the Murim you need strength before you can shout things like that.”
A weak man’s barking means nothing, he said—personally engraving the harshness of this era into my body. A true master of the times.
“Damn old geezer…”
By the time the homecoming purification ritual was over, my whole body felt soft and mushy. Even after pouring every martial art I possessed into the exchange, my master’s wall seemed to have grown higher. I asked with a puzzled face,
“Don’t tell me you made some kind of breakthrough while I was gone, Master?”
When we had traded blows earlier I had sensed the stirrings of some different change.
“This old man has started to see it too, little by little.”
“…See what?”
“What’s beyond that wall.”
I had estimated him as a master of the Transcendent Realm. Was he now advancing toward the Profound Realm I had only ever heard of?
“What the h—”
“Ah-ah, you brat. Instead of rejoicing at your sky-like master’s achievement…”
Then what was I supposed to do about my grand goal of paying back every beating I had ever received? Absolute nonsense. That monster of an old man was getting even stronger.
“Heh heh. While you were up north, a great many changes happened in Beijing as well.”
The situation looked unusual, he said, so he had put some effort into martial training. Normally he just loafed around drinking; what wind had suddenly blown?
“What happened, then?”
From his tone something was clearly going on, so I asked. Without a word Hwang Geolgae slowly pointed toward the resplendent Imperial Palace.
“What about the Imperial Palace?”
“There has been an incident.”
An “incident” meant something had broken out on the palace side.
“What kind of incident? Don’t tell me the Crown Prince, who was on death’s door day after day, finally passed away?”
If that were true a storm would sweep through Beijing, which would explain Hwang Geolgae’s gravity. At the same time it would be a golden opportunity for Imperial Consort Ma and Princess Dohwa, who had been my backers.
“No. The opposite. His condition has actually stopped worsening.”
Instead Hwang Geolgae began to say something far more ominous, something that defied my expectations.