Heavenly Demon, Heavenly Demon
Heavenly Demon, Heavenly Demon—how terrifying a resonance that name carried. In the mountain temple where warm winds stirred the grass and birdsong drifted now and then through the air, the old Daoist pressed his wrinkled fingertips against the letter and let out a long sigh. Peace was hard enough to obtain, but keeping it was far harder still. One year the northern barbarians would scheme, another year Japanese pirates would appear along the coast; when the foreign threats quieted, the unorthodox factions would rise, and when their momentum waned, secret societies would lie in wait. Such was the way of the martial world. Even those who claimed to uphold righteousness could not trust one another and quarreled endlessly. Weary of the endless tangle, the old Daoist had hidden behind the backs of his juniors lined along Wudang Mountain, telling himself the world would not collapse so easily. Yet he could never cast aside his worries entirely, and so for quite some time he had only stolen occasional glances at the world over his shoulder.
"Are you certain it is the Heavenly Demon?"
"We cannot be certain. That is precisely why we beg you, honored elder, to confirm it for us."
But how could he remain unmoved at the mere mention of the Heavenly Demon? The old Daoist still remembered that day with perfect clarity. They had all called themselves geniuses, each and every one of them. The Ten Masters, who had boasted that they stood at the pinnacle of their respective sects' supreme arts, had been reduced to what before the Heavenly Demon? Of the eight who gathered that day, two died before the combined formation could even be completed. Even with six remaining, they could not match him, and two more fell before the Sword Immortal of that era finally arrived. More than a full cycle of sixty years had passed since then, and his sword qi had reached heights unimaginable in those days, yet even now he could not claim to surpass the Heavenly Demon of that time. The Heavenly Demon had taken a sword to the chest yet left no corpse behind. If the one spoken of now was truly the Heavenly Demon, then he had survived after all.
"Very well. You said Wuhan?"
"Yes."
At least there was one consolation: unlike that day, the martial world now possessed more than a single Absolute Master. Even if he, the oldest among them, went, three would remain in the orthodox factions alone—far less of a burden than facing the Sword Immortal of old. Comforting himself with that thought, the old Daoist—Geomseon, Doan Jin-in—rose to his feet.
"I can plainly see why you would summon this old man whose days are numbered instead of calling upon the nearby Nangong family."
"It is not like that at all. Of course we will inform the Sword Venerable as well, but given the circumstances, we cannot be certain he will come all the way to Wuhan..."
"Enough with the laughable excuses. I have already lived past two full cycles of sixty years. Who is to say I will not collapse from the strain before I even reach Wuhan?"
The Nine Great Sects and the Seven Great Families. West and east, sects and clans. They were all called orthodox, yet how could the orthodox factions ever be one? The Nine Great Sects of the west and the Seven Great Families of the east had maintained their invisible rivalry through the Sungui Hyeopsayeonhoe for a very long time. The report of a demonic practitioner who might be the Heavenly Demon was no lie, but they clearly intended to gain something by forcing his hand through Doan Jin-in, who could not ignore such news. Yet what profit could remain before the Heavenly Demon? Drawing new boundaries across ruined fields meant nothing if the demon's passing left not even a single barley sprout behind. He wanted to roar at them. But he knew they would not listen no matter what he said, so he did not waste his breath.
A little over sixty years was far too short a time for an old man to cast off fear, yet more than enough for the world to forget the lesson learned that day.
"I will say this once and be clear. I am not going there to fight. I am going precisely so that I may not have to fight. You should do the same."
"Yes. Of course."
The answer was, in their own eyes, respectful toward the current Absolute Masters. Yet in the Geomseon's eyes, neither their voices nor their eyes held even a trace of the fear that the Sword Immortal's successors should have carved into their bones. He sighed once more.
* * *
Heavenly Demon, Heavenly Demon—how the name made his heart tremble. The floor of blue stone slabs, each ten jang across, had been still until two quarters of an hour ago. Now it heaved and cracked and twisted like a shoreline in a gale. While everyone else struggled to swim amid those waves, one man sat alone at their center.
"Are you certain it is the Heavenly Demon? No—certain that this demonic practitioner is an Absolute Master?"
"All indications suggest so."
The man smiled. "A rather shallow ploy. They mean to set us against each other."
"It would seem so."
Though they claimed to have obtained information, the details made it obvious the intelligence had been deliberately leaked. He knew the Seven Great Families, blind and frail though they might be, were not the sort to make such mistakes. Their intent was plain: they meant to use him as a pawn.
"Scheming little wretches."
It was amusing. Those who called themselves martial artists were committing the one act they should never commit. It was not for the sake of something as trivial as honor or pride. Those things mattered, yet they could be discarded when the time came. Nor was it for the sake of righteousness, which was important but ultimately dispensable. He simply wanted to ask: if those who pursued the martial path refused to step forward when battle called, then how could they claim to cultivate martial arts at all, and why would they bother? Anyone who sought to achieve some other purpose through martial arts was already second-rate. How could one call oneself a true martial artist without making the pinnacle of martial arts the sole purpose? Those who cultivated inner energy to form a golden core were Daoists. Those who moved their bodies while pursuing the Buddha's law were Buddhists. Those who wielded swords to guard farmland were landowners. Those who learned martial arts to protect their businesses were merchants. Thus, though the Central Plains were filled with people, the only place true martial artists remained was here, in Wugeuk Castle.
Sama Geon, the Martial Emperor who had spent his entire life pursuing nothing but martial arts, lifted his head.
"There is no reason to avoid this."
"Indeed."
"But there is also no need to move exactly as they wish."
Sama Geon was no fool. Building the greatest sect among the Thirty-Six Factions of the Central Plains from nothing with bare hands required far more than heaven-bestowed talent. Few in the entire Central Plains, let alone the martial world, could match Sama Geon's speed of calculation and nimbleness of mind. He understood the value of righteousness, gold, and life as well as anyone. Had he not, Wugeuk Castle could never have grown to its present size, the name Martial Emperor would never have carried its current weight, and he would not have survived the hellish life that had been his from the beginning. Yet even so, all those things were commodities he was willing to sell if the price was high enough.
"We will not go to Wuhan."
They had surely laid every manner of trap. Ordinarily, crushing their so-called brilliant schemes with his own would have been entertaining, but why spoil his appetite with snacks when the greatest feast of his life lay before him?
"You said the reason that fellow is moving is because of someone named Yu Baek?"
"Yes. That much is almost certain. We have not yet confirmed their exact relationship."
"That is none of my concern. I am going to capture him."
He would issue the invitation himself. If the opponent was truly the Heavenly Demon, then no matter what happened in Wuhan, he would handle it and answer the invitation. If he could not even manage that, then he had never been worth facing in the first place. Sama Geon rose and turned toward the door. Soon the men sprawled across the training ground began to stir one by one, groaning as they pushed themselves upright. Sama Geon allowed himself a moment of pride. He had never felt the need to display it to the world, yet he knew with absolute certainty that he was currently the foremost expert in the Central Plains. That was why he did not obsess over fighting other Absolute Masters. But what if the opponent was the Heavenly Demon—the supreme Absolute Master who had single-handedly stormed the Grand Martial Assembly, faced the Ten Masters and the Sword Immortal of that era alone, and slain four of the Ten Masters along with the Sword Immortal's left arm? He had no certainty of victory. When one's life was placed upon the gambling table and one was forced to surpass the limits of body and soul simply to survive, that was where true martial arts were born and raised. Sama Geon believed it. Standing before what might be his final battlefield, he could not wipe the smile from his lips.
* * *
Heavenly Demon, Heavenly Demon—how ridiculous a resonance that name carried.
"Hahaha, hngk, hahaha, phahahaha, heok... heo-eok..."
Clouds heavy with twilight light trembled and crumbled in time with the laughter. Amid the chaos of colored lanterns and smoke, one figure rolled across a luxurious bed draped in silk, laughing without restraint.
"Haa, heo-eok. So that kid is the Heavenly Demon?"
"Yes. The child called Yu Baek is the Heavenly Demon's disciple."
"Kheuk. Kkuk, ahahaha, heukkeuk, kolok, aigo, my stomach..."
There were many absurd things in this world, but the word "Heavenly Demon" was in a class of its own. The Heavenly Demon Ancestor had once said that "demon" referred to that which recognized no absolutes, no eternity, no responsibility, no order, no gods, and no heavens—only its own will. If one had already shattered the heavens, how ridiculous was it to speak of another demon in the heavens? They claimed there was no order, yet they still had a leader wearing an armband. At first the words had been deeply unpleasant, lacking both root and direction. But most unpleasant things became comedy when viewed from afar, and after some time had passed, he had simply laughed them off. Yet now a Heavenly Demon had truly fallen from the heavens without root or direction, and it was this that truly deserved the name. The world had come full circle and made the absurd reasonable—an exquisite joke. He could not help but clap and roar with laughter.
"So, how far has this spread?"
"It seems the orthodox factions have all heard by now."
"This is the work of the Jegal Clan again, isn't it? Those people really were born with a talent for making others laugh."
They were no fools and often produced remarkably clever schemes. At the very least, they were capable of serving as strategists among the thick-skulled orthodox types. Yet they had inherited the misfortune of their ancestors who had failed the northern expedition despite their ingenuity, and at the most critical moments they always slipped for one reason or another. Including that flaw, the Seven Great Families—who could not resist the lure of immediate gain despite their talk of honor—felt far more human and agreeable than the madmen of the Nine Great Sects who earnestly believed in such nonsense as liberation and ascension.
"Hehe, hehehe..."
Imagining the Jegal clansmen sitting with grave expressions as they made a spectacular misstep, he drew on his pipe. The taste was exquisite, and another laugh escaped him. He had been pondering how this affair would end when he could no longer contain himself and shot upright from where he lay.
"I cannot stand it. I must go as well."
"Pardon? Truly?"
"Would you prefer I go as a fake?"
The Heavenly Demon, who had decided to add one more Heavenly Demon to the cast of this farce, rose and draped a silken robe over his pale skin.
"How many children will you be taking?"
"I will not be taking any."
"Pardon? But surely you could at least take those who wish to go. At least four or five would volunteer."
The man glanced around the room. At least ten people lay scattered about, some naked, others in underclothes. The Heavenly Demon clicked his tongue without even looking.
"They are all here to play. After days of nothing but debauchery and drugs, it will take them at least a week to recover their skills. I do not have time to wait. Even at their best, anyone below the level of Hyeonho or Cho Yak would only be baggage."
"What about me? I am among the Top 100 Masters."
"Can you beat Cho Yak? With your measly skills, you would struggle against any ordinary bandit chief. Do not get carried away. Stay here and guard the place."
Seeing the man's face twist, the Heavenly Demon burst into laughter.
"...At least leave quietly when you go. This is supposed to be a secret pavilion."
"For someone built like a mountain, you sulk so easily. Very well."
Even as he closed the door and stepped out, the Heavenly Demon was still laughing. Teasing the foolish fellow had been amusing. The way the name Heavenly Demon fit so perfectly was amusing. And the events that were about to unfold filled him with such anticipation that he could not stop smiling.