The Pull of the Stars

Every morning at dawn, the moment I opened my eyes, the clubbing began—under the flimsy pretense of training.

Hwang Geolgae had taught me only the forms, the secret formulas, and the barest rudiments of application for the Dog Beating Staff Technique. The rest, he said, I was to learn through "live combat."

There was no systematic regimen. Once his murderous staff work split my cheek open and sent twin streams of blood pouring from my nose, I had no choice but to master every motion if I wanted to live.

At first I couldn't keep up with the wild, ever-shifting staff work that lashed out like a rabid dog. But as time went on, I began to read the trajectories.

And then, at some point, I stole Hwang Geolgae's Dog Beating Staff Technique right out from under him—and learned to counter it as smoothly as flowing water.

Just like this.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

I knocked aside, in rapid succession, an axe, a cleaver, and a club, all of them flying at me thick with killing intent.

Into the opening I had carved, I drove the fourth form of the Dog Beating Staff Technique—Staff Strikes Twin Shoulders.

Thwack! Crack!

Dull impacts rang out one after another. The blunt tip of the staff shattered a jaw joint and snapped one of the charging legs clean through.

"Ghk!"

With a scream that leaked air, two bandits crumpled where they stood.

When a dense killing intent clawed at my back, I coiled the long staff around my waist and smashed the bandits rushing me in a continuous barrage.

The bandits recoiled in shock at movement that looked as if I had eyes in the back of my head.

"You little bastard…!"

"You were barely standing a second ago!"

"You've been toying with us…!"

I hadn't been toying with them. With every moment that killing intent flooded the air and weapons crossed, my mastery of the Dog Beating Staff Technique simply rose at a dazzling rate.

My first blood-soaked live combat. The Dog Beating Staff Technique, unleashed for the first time against a crowd, found its zero and began to pour out its true power.

A fiery storm of staff-work that tore through the battlefield.

Crack! Thud!

Whenever I got piled on before, I'd take a few hits and harvest bones in return. Now that I had a long-reach weapon and a proper staff art, the whole picture changed.

The formulas and forms jammed into my head without ceremony found shape and pattern through my hands and feet.

The bandits who swarmed me collapsed helplessly before the ever-shifting exclusive secret technique of the Beggar Sect.

"That wandering swordsman swings a staff like a demon."

Clan Leader Jo, watching the fight from behind his escort guards, let out a short murmur of admiration.

His children looked a little startled by the unexpected display as well.

"Not quite 'Cloud Nine First Hero' material. More like 'Cloud Seven Third-Rate Hero' level, I'd say."

"Brother, you aren't even a First Hero yourself. Who are you to rank him?"

"Shut it, little brother."

And among the murmuring Jo household, Jo Harang watched in silence, eyes bright with interest.

Shiiing!

One bandit flung a hidden dagger in a sudden ambush—I batted it aside with the Dog Beating Staff.

Once the Heavenly Killing Eye was open, it read every murderous impulse in the vicinity. Ambush, for all practical purposes, became impossible.

The only thing that still gave me real trouble was a sword stroke so overwhelmingly fast my body couldn't keep up.

Crack! Thud!

The form for scolding a mad dog—Staff Strike to Chastise the Dog.

The tip of the staff put a neat dent in the crown of the coward who had been flinging daggers.

That left only the one who looked like the bandits' leader.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

He spat a foul curse the moment he realized everyone else was down and he alone remained.

Cleaver still sticky with someone else's blood pointed at me, he tried the classic "How about we call it a draw?"

"W-wait! I am a bandit of the Green Forest Eighteen Strongholds! If you touch me, the entire mountain will—!"

"Fuck off!"

I had stood against the Second Prince's faction, fought the Assassin Gate, and even killed the Soul-Reaving Demon Lord. Bandits were not going to scare me now.

Thud!

And why did the Dog Beating Staff look better for thrashing people than dogs? Because it was meant for thrashing the beasts that walked on two legs.

"Gack!"

A blow across the back of the skull rolled his eyes white and laid him out flat.

One more unconscious body joined the thirteen already sprawled among the corpses of their fellows.

I let out a long breath, still heated from my first real fight in ages.

Beasts worse than animals, claiming ownership of mountain and nature and preying on innocent travelers for the crime of passing through.

Thrashing those near-human trash made a pure white cloud of good karma start to billow in my chest.

Lately I hadn't been able to pile up any good karma at all, and the Heavenly Killing Star had been running wild—I'd been more than a little worried.

"Well. At least I pulled off one solid job."

Judging by Clan Leader Jo's expression—as if he'd found a pearl in the mud—I might even get a seat on the cart.

They were only third-class bandits, sure, but I had taken a single staff and steamrolled them this one-sidedly.

Calling me a nobody was getting a little awkward now.

"Man, this thing has a weirdly satisfying hand-feel."

I ran my palm down the long, heavy staff. In situations like this before, I'd been the one taking the beating while I fought.

No wonder the beggars designed this art so they wouldn't get mauled by dogs. People really do need a nice long tool.

"Boss, Clan Leader Jo says you can ride on the cart."

See that? Prove your martial skill and your treatment upgrades on the spot.

That was the natural law of the Murim.

"But Boss, what about me?"

"You can ride over there, in Lady Jo Yeongyeong's carriage."

"…Are you serious right now?"

And every man for himself was also a law of the Murim.

I spun the long staff away into storage and planted my rear with full authority into the cart space I'd just claimed.

Beside me, the greatsword-wielding heroine beamed and welcomed me.

"So you went and won it yourself in the end?"

"Yeah. This is the level I'm at."

I gave Jo Harang a light shrug of the shoulders.

"The champion? Stupid question. Obviously the Evil-Slaying Divine Maiden, right?"

Clan Leader Jo's second son mentioned Moyong Cheonghye, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who of late had been rising hot among the gossipmongers as a contender for the next Sword Marquis.

Talk of a champion suggested the two Jo brothers were already handicapping the outcome of this Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.

In short, the topic that always surfaced whenever three or more people gathered in the Central Plains: Who's the strongest?

"You idiot. The Evil-Slaying Divine Maiden was the top seed at the last Dragon-Phoenix Gathering. She already took runner-up, so she can't enter."

"Ah—ahem. Is that so…? I just heard she was young, so I—"

"You're such a dense blockhead. No wonder Father chews you out every time."

"Stop calling me a dense blockhead!"

Jo Harang ignored the two brothers as they started bickering again and turned her head to quietly study the young man sitting beside her.

After ten straight days of walking, Dan Mujin had barely put his rear on the cart before he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠started nodding off.

She glanced back once as well at the bandits being hauled along behind the cart, trussed up like dried fish.

A few more days and they'd reach a major city; the plan was to dump the whole lot at the yamen there.

Clan Leader Jo had cheerfully agreed the moment he pictured rolling into town with a string of vanquished bandits dangling behind them.

Thanks to that they were traveling in comfort—but her back still felt a little cold.

All that malice and murderous intent the bandits kept pumping out without rest.

"Would've been easier if we'd just cut them all down."

She muttered to herself, fiddling with the hilt of her greatsword.

"What kind of bloodthirsty talk is that?"

Whether he'd heard her or not, the dozing Dan Mujin had somehow already locked eyes with her.

"But Master said so. Cut down one evil man, and you save ten innocent commoners."

"So we just slice every neck we see? Are you a wannabe Evil-Slaying Divine Maiden too, huh?"

Dan Mujin mentioned the Evil-Slaying Divine Maiden and gave a full-body shudder, as if the thought alone made his teeth chatter.

"Wannabe?"

"It's a thing."

He casually filched a strip of jerky from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cart stores as he said it.

"They'll chop their heads off for us once we drag them to the yamen anyway. No need to pile up unnecessary killing karma."

Was he practicing some kind of discipline? He'd taken the lead and subdued the wicked himself, yet he still shied away from killing karma.

In this sword-ruled Murim, where people hacked through necks without a second thought, it was a fairly rare sight.

You ran into martial artists like him from time to time.

Those who walked the Tyrant's Path mocked such men as weak—but Jo Harang had no intention of doing anything of the sort.

"You're a good person, aren't you?"

"…Me?"

Dan Mujin looked at her with an expression of pure disbelief.

"Yeah. For a while I felt this inexplicable unease and misunderstood you, but I guess it was just me overthinking it."

First impressions had been good—but the closer she got, the more she felt that instinctive dread her master had warned her about.

So she had goaded him into a fight, hoping to draw out his true nature. And then a Murim man who avoided killing karma like some high monk had left her completely deflated.

"…Maybe you should just trust that inexplicable instinct of yours?"

"No. That's not it."

She shook her head with a crooked little smile.

Even in a fight that fierce, not a single person had died—which meant he had been holding back and measuring his force from the start.

Someone like that couldn't possibly be the vicious existence her master had warned of.

And there was one more reason she could be sure.

"People prove themselves not with words, but with the actions they've piled up over time."

That was thanks to a certain special ability unique to Jo Harang.

The power to clearly see something no one else could.

And right now, Jo Harang's eyes saw it plain as day.

The vast quantity of pure white good karma blazing in the chest of the young man named Dan Mujin.

Even with a city only a day away, if you had to camp outdoors, someone had to take the night watch. That was Central Plains common sense.

The old saying about waking up to find your nose gone fit this place better than anywhere.

Honestly, losing a nose would be lucky. This was the kind of place that sliced your throat clean off.

"The stars are bright."

So the second I heard they needed a night watch, I was the first to raise my hand.

Long experience had taught me that the first and last shifts were the easiest.

But the moment I raised my hand, someone else immediately volunteered to join me.

"They really are bright. Looking at the stars like this, all the worries I'm carrying just scatter like illusions."

A crackling campfire. The cry of insects in the grass.

It was a time of night that invited sentimentality, and Jo Harang was spouting romantic nonsense accordingly.

I left her to her mysterious emotional high and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pulled out a sweet snack to go with the bitter tea in front of me.

Something Ilhong had given me—a thoroughly dried, slightly chewy fruit. Chewed alongside tea, a savory sweetness spread through it. A real treat.

As I settled in to enjoy my midnight snack, Jo Harang stared at me from the side without blinking.

"Hey. If you want some, just say so. Don't glare a hole through me."

"I wasn't, exactly… But since you're offering, I won't refuse."

She primly accepted it and chewed with a prim little motion. Honestly—what a dishonest woman.

"Hey."

"What."

I cooled the tea I'd poured with the night air and answered shortly.

"What's your dream?"

Ah. This was that thing.

In the army, when you stood post with a senior, people would bring up the kind of honest talk they would never ask about in ordinary life.

"Contentment in wealth, joy in the Dao."

"…Don't you mean contentment in poverty, joy in the Dao?"

Contentment in poverty, joy in the Dao: living at ease in poverty while delighting in the Way.

"You can't live at ease without money. You don't know that? A generous heart comes from a generous bankroll."

I answered as I slurped my tea.

Jo Harang shot me a sidelong look with primly narrowed eyes.

No matter what anyone said, no matter what looks they gave me, I had no intention of folding on my dream.

Even if the thing lodged in my skull kept doggedly getting in the way.

"I have two dreams."

Without anyone asking, she launched into her own story.

I dusted off the social skills I'd learned in my past life and fielded it at a reasonable level.

"What are they."

"The first is to make a name for myself at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering and spread the renown of my sect and my master far and wide."

The safe, standard kind of dream every Murim disciple was supposed to carry.

Of course I harbored absolutely no such thought. Raise the name of Hwang Geolgae, the man who beat me black and blue? Just thinking about it was horrifying.

"And the second?"

I asked again, still chewing my snack.

She stroked her massive greatsword as if there were a story behind it, and looked up at the stars.

"The second is… to cut down one particular evil person. It might be hard to achieve, though. Master said every trace of him has vanished."

"Why? What kind of villain is he?"

An evil man hunted first by the master and now by the disciple.

In a Murim woven thick as spiderwebs with grudges, it was plausible enough for such a figure to exist.

"There's a being that burns with an ominous fire and will bring heaven's wrath down upon the earth."

Whoever it was, that was a pretty poetic way of putting it.

Was she talking about some peerless demon of the age like the Soul-Reaving Demon Lord, or something like the Heavenly Demon?

"The Heavenly Killing Star."

"Pffft—!"

I sprayed the tea I had been drinking straight out of my mouth.