The Blood Blade's Inquiry
Brother. So Mubidogaek was a lie. It wasn't something I boasted about, but my memory had always been sharp. During my stay in Sichuan and on the road to Yueyang, I had committed to memory everything Dang Ju-yeon told me about the martial world—even if I didn't fully understand it all.
Mubidogaek was one of the Six Wanderers. The title referred to the six masters among the Top 100 who roamed without fixed homes. Each had their own purpose while drifting through the jianghu. The Golden Envoy Blade collected wealth, the Righteous Fist upheld justice, and so on. As for Mubidogaek, he hunted.
"If you need my blade, take it." He loosened the cord at his waist and lifted the sheathed sword with his left hand.
Mubidogaek answered, "You only half understand. I don't keep swords without souls."
I already knew that. Suppressing a sigh that threatened to escape, I drew the sword anyway.
From what I'd heard, Mubidogaek was undoubtedly a madman. He sought out famed swordsmen for life-and-death duels, killed them, and collected their blades. In his own words, he believed that gathering swords imbued with "soul" would deepen his own martial arts. Did that even make sense? I knew people didn't always leave ghosts behind when they died, but even if a ghost lingered, why would it cling to a mere weapon? From watching people over the years, I'd learned that a person's spirit was tightly bound to their body—it couldn't be separated so easily. A ghost that had lived decades in a body with limbs wouldn't choose to inhabit a lifeless iron rod instead of another human form or even a straw dummy with arms and legs.
"You're not practicing some kind of sorcery, so why does a martial artist collect ghosts?"
"Ghosts?" Mubidogaek frowned. "If you're referring to what I call the soul, I'm not talking about ghosts."
"Then what?"
"The true spirit that bursts forth in the extreme moment during a life-and-death duel. That is the soul. A swordsman's true spirit is the very essence and limit of his blade. Only when you've witnessed that can you say you've truly seen the sword."
"Ah..." When he put it that way, it made a strange kind of sense. I could agree that in the boundary between life and death, when emotions surged violently, the full shape of one's heart revealed itself dramatically. His peculiar obsession with swords was still hard to grasp, but even people walking the same path could have different quirks. It wasn't something I needed to condemn.
"You call it the soul? That's a rather evocative expression."
"You speak as if you understand it well."
"Well, because I'm similar."
A spark of interest flashed in Mubidogaek's eyes. He asked, "How many times have you staked your life?"
"Eight... no, seven times?"
Mubidogaek met my gaze directly. I saw no reason to look away, so I held his stare for a moment.
"Doesn't seem like you're lying."
"What would I gain from lying about this?"
"True enough." Mubidogaek naturally drew his own blade. I spoke quickly to stop him.
"Wait a moment."
"What is it?"
"Isn't it a bit hasty to draw your sword already? I'd like to talk a little more."
"If you truly are like me, what more needs to be said here?"
"Hmm..." I furrowed my brow. He was right—my old self would have been exactly the same. They said bear meat tasted gamey if the animal had eaten scraps, but sweet as honey if it had only eaten honey. So what kind of beauty would the soul of someone who understood the beauty of souls reveal? Out of sheer curiosity, I would have drawn my blade without hesitation. But now, I felt no desire to do so.
Reflecting on why, I realized it was because I was no longer the same as him. Imagining crossing blades with my master again after so long still painted a striking picture, but my heart no longer raced the way it once had. It wasn't that I liked my master any less—if that were true, I wouldn't have thrown such a childish tantrum today. Since I would always remain myself, and my feelings for my master hadn't changed, the only thing that had shifted was my view of staking one's life.
Now that I thought about it, the moment someone's life ended was certainly the most direct and concentrated way to reveal oneself, but it wasn't the entirety of who they were. It was like fine dining. At first, people only chased the stimulation of sweet and salty flavors, but after tasting countless delicacies and refining their palate, they came to appreciate the subtle, clean elegance of simple dishes. I had come to value not only the brilliant flash between someone trying to kill and someone dying, but also the faint, delicate glimmers that had to be carefully gathered from the everyday moments shared together.
Meeting my master, parting, meeting again, parting again, meeting once more—in that cycle, I too had grown. When I organized these thoughts and voiced them, Mubidogaek stroked his chin, pondered briefly, then replied.
"What you say sounds plausible at first glance."
"Thank you for understanding."
"But your thinking is fundamentally flawed because our lives are finite."
Mubidogaek lowered his left hand and raised his head to meet my eyes again.
"If you keep dragging things out like this, you'll spend your whole life chasing just that one thing and end up with nothing. Do you truly believe that's the attitude of someone who pursues?"
"That one thing is enough for me."
"...Really?"
"Yes." I answered without hesitation.
Mubidogaek's frown deepened. "Have you never considered the possibility that you haven't grown at all, but simply found a convenient excuse for complacency? You might be deceiving yourself because you're afraid of losing the comforts of life and find it troublesome."
At those words, I examined myself again. Was I simply treasuring my own life more than anything else and dressing it up with pretty words? The answer came quickly. No. The reason was clear.
"That's not it."
"Why?"
"Because that one thing is more precious to me than my own life, whether through a life-and-death duel or a long companionship."
In terms of life's comforts, what could be more important than life itself? That had been true when I only pursued life-and-death duels, and it remained true even now that I wanted to take a longer view. Since the moment I first saw my master, I had never once thought anything in this world was more important than her—including my own life. Therefore, the reason I now cherished my life was because I needed to stay alive to reach her again. If forced to choose between a long life without ever seeing her and dying by her hand right now, my choice would still be the latter without a moment's hesitation.
"...That doesn't seem like a lie either."
"I'm usually honest about these things."
After thinking a little longer, Mubidogaek spoke. "Fine. So I understand why you're avoiding a fight. Rather than wasting your life on someone like me, you want to preserve it for that one thing."
"Exactly as you say."
"But what's my reason not to fight?" Mubidogaek asked, still holding his drawn sword in one hand. "Even if that great 'one thing' of yours is truly worth devoting the rest of your life to, I know nothing about it. If you want me to sheathe my blade, try convincing me yourself."
"I refuse." The answer slipped out reflexively.
Mubidogaek stared at me in disbelief for a moment. "...Then what do you want me to do?"
"Well..." Even I could tell how strange my own words sounded, but it couldn't be helped. Think about it—if some thunderous brute who was nothing more than a human butcher came looking for my master, insisting on speaking with her... she would surely pretend she couldn't refuse and accept it as fate. The mere thought made my skin crawl. I had to uproot this problem as quickly as possible. For my master's sake, I could do it.
"I misspoke. Let's just have our life-and-death duel as planned. Still, there's a reason we shouldn't fight right now."
"...Let's hear it."
"Look at my body." I spread both arms weakly. "Does it look fine? I was thoroughly beaten by one of the Five Demonic Generals of Defying Heaven just this evening, and I haven't even had a proper rest before fighting again. A life-and-death duel isn't bad. I'll accept it. But if we're going to do it, we should do it properly. You didn't come here just to wring the neck of a sick chicken, did you? In my current state, there's no life-and-death duel or anything else—I'll simply lose."
"Hmm. That's a lie."
"..." I tugged at my cheek. Calling it certain defeat had been an exaggeration. I'd thought I was rather good at acting, but unfortunately, it seemed those of similar nature possessed similar talents.
"But I'll let it slide this once. That 'one thing' you're talking about must be the woman called Sword Immortal or whatever. After the Ghost Immortal, now you as well—I'm starting to find it quite interesting."
"..."
"What, do you want to fight right now? I'm fine with that too." Mubidogaek smiled. When my hand left the sword hilt, he lowered his blade as well. He continued, "She went to the Han Prince's residence."
I studied his eyes carefully. There was no sign of deception.
"She walked into the trap of her own accord, so you'd better go help her."
"...Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want you to try saving her, of course. I've become curious to meet her myself."
I would never allow that. Still, the choice I had to make right now was clear. I let out a sigh and walked past him toward the Han Prince's residence. He walked past me as well, and for some reason, the direction he was heading bothered me.
"Where are you going?"
"Do you have the luxury to be curious? Well, it's nothing special. I made a promise, so I can't just stand by and watch without lifting a finger. Even if it's not your head, I plan to take a few others."
He spoke as if it were nothing. Following the direction of his steps, I saw the fallen Black Poison King and the three people who were barely managing to circulate their qi beside him.