Chapter 76. Song of Light and Shadow (2)
Chapter 76. Song of Light and Shadow (2)
3.
When I first tried to learn the Sword of Starvation.
「What?」
The Heavenly Demon was disappointed.
「You mean to tell me the longest you've ever starved in your entire life is barely three days?」
She didn't acknowledge my effort. She gave up. She resigned herself. She only watched me swing my sword for a moment. The Heavenly Demon simply turned her back and left.
「We can't communicate.」
「If you don't even know this, how could you ever comprehend the Demonic Heavenly God Art?」
The Heavenly Demon had tested me only to give up on me herself.
Because there was nothing left to hope for in this world. Because there had to be nothing left.
「Enough.」
「It is my fault.」
That was what happened when I learned 'starvation.'
But from the time I began learning 'thirst,' her attitude changed completely.
4
"Your sword is excessively simple."
The Heavenly Demon watched me fight the jiangshi.
I could feel her gaze on me shifting little by little. Sometimes even when I swung my sword clumsily, the Heavenly Demon might furrow her brows, but she never turned her back.
Instead, she gave me advice.
"I can find no subtlety in your sword. There is no application to speak of. It is blunt and upright, and just as fragile for it."
The Heavenly Demon was beginning to place her hopes in a person like me.
"Your sword seems as though it was made not to oppose humans, but to contend against the world itself. It is closer to the sword of the orthodox faction than the sword of our cult. A curious thing."
At first, I too died in a single blow to the martial zombies.
But as time passed, I could handle the martial zombies with ease. It was only natural. Every night, I died to the jiangshi Agwi brought me.
The more I experienced the trauma of those who died of thirst, the stronger my sword became.
"I shall teach you a concise mind-art."
Once my sword had grown strong enough, the Heavenly Demon finally began to teach.
"A mind-art? What is that?"
"...A secret method, or a secret art. It is not easy speaking with a child from beyond the frontier."
The Heavenly Demon cleared her throat. Ahem, ahem.
"Think back to when you unfolded the Sword of Starvation. When you swung your sword, what did you think of?"
"I thought of starvation."
"Of course you did. But that was not all. Though you did not know it yourself, without realizing it, you pierced through to the essence of the demonic arts."
The essence of the demonic arts.
"I shall now teach it to you."
We sat facing each other on the snowfield.
"Now. Try to picture an [apple] in your mind."
"An apple... you mean the kind you eat?"
"The kind you eat."
I imagined a single apple as instructed.
"Have you pictured it?"
"Yes."
"What is the texture of the apple?"
"Pardon?"
The Heavenly Demon's question was unfamiliar. The texture of an apple? It's not as if I was actually holding an apple in my hand, so how could I possibly know its texture?
I was baffled. The Heavenly Demon studied my face intently.
"You do not know?"
"If I force myself to imagine it, I suppose I could, but......"
"It is fine. If you do not know, say you do not know."
"Ah, yes. I have no idea."
"Hmm. Hm."
The Heavenly Demon smiled. The woman was enjoying herself.
"You are honest. Good! Now, try to picture [starvation]."
"......"
I pictured it.
I pictured a farmer endlessly swinging a pickaxe on parched earth. I pictured a hand raised to strike a child. Children dug up the soft soil by the river, and with the earth they scooped out, they made mud cookies.
"Have you pictured it?"
The Heavenly Demon whispered.
"Yes, I have."
"What is the texture of starvation?"
The grinding of teeth eating a mud cookie. The taste. The dry, crumbly texture.
"...It's crumbly."
"What is the scent of starvation?"
"It smells like dirt."
"Oh-ho. What kind of dirt? There are many kinds of dirt. There is dirt for farming, and dirt for making pottery. There is black dirt, and there is red dirt. I am curious. What is the dirt of starvation?"
"It's mud."
I spoke with my eyes closed.
"You can't just scoop up any mud you please. It's mud with few pebbles and no grains of sand."
"I see. Understood. What is the taste of starvation?"
"......"
"Child."
The Heavenly Demon's voice softened.
"I asked what starvation tastes like. Why do you not answer at once?"
"...Because it's sad."
I said.
"The children dry the mud cookies in the sun. While they’re drying in the sunlight, with nothing else to do, the children linger around them. They just keep waiting for the mud to dry......"
"Children waiting for sunlight."
"...Yes."
"Starvation is children waiting for sunlight."
It was. It was.
"Child, that is your poetry."
The Heavenly Demon's voice fell like plain, unadorned snow.
"When I asked you the texture of a mere apple, you answered that you did not know. But when I asked about starvation, what happened? You touched the mud. You smelled the mud. You chewed and ate the mud! Because you saw the flowing river, you must have even overheard the sound of the water sloshing."
An old man's final voyage. A ferryboat. The night sky.
Someone’s lonely death—someone who had tried not to burden the world, yet had ended up becoming a burden after all.
"An apple has form, but starvation has none. An apple has taste, but starvation is tasteless. And yet you speak so well of starvation! To you, starvation is mud, and sunlight, and river water, and children."
"......"
"Child! That is your talent."
The Heavenly Demon said.
"Now open your eyes."
I saw.
The Heavenly Demon moved both hands from her seated position.
"The reason you do not know the texture of an apple is simple. Because it did not stir your [memory]."
My memory.
"If you have ever eaten an apple, you would know."
The Heavenly Demon moved her hands with a smile.
I soon recognized it.
The Heavenly Demon was miming cutting an apple in half.
"An apple's skin is soft. It is glossy, yet very slightly bumpy. I usually enjoy eating apples with the skin on, but if there is a child with a cold, it would be different. Cut it in half......"
It truly seemed as though an apple lay in her hands.
"And scrape it out with a spoon. Spoonful by spoonful, you feed the scraped apple to the sick child."
"......"
"When you were young, did you ever eat an apple scraped out like that?"
I had.
I remembered a teacher at the orphanage doing that for me. When I was sick with a cold and bedridden, she fed me apple scraped out with a spoon.
"What is the texture of the scraped apple?"
"...It's mushy."
"Exactly! An apple that is originally crisp becomes mushy once it has been chewed through by a spoon. But is that all? Did it simply become tasteless?"
"Yellow juice fills my mouth."
"Indeed! Is that all! If you scrape right down to the skin, the remaining apple skin becomes comically wrinkled. The hand of the mother who scooped out the apple also becomes soaked with the juice that ran from it. But then, if so, then, child. Which of those things can you call your apple?"
"......"
I sank into thought.
As I sat lost in thought, the Heavenly Demon pressed me.
"A single apple? An apple cut in half? One spoonful of scraped-out juice? The skin? The mother's hand? What is your apple?"
What was my apple?
"I once saw a mother who scooped out all of the apple for her child, and then ate only the skin herself."
"......"
"To me, an apple is the mother's leftover skin. It is a child with a cold. It is a mother's heart, ground down spoonful by spoonful."
Why was it that my heart grew warm?
Even though I was sitting in the middle of a snowfield.
Perhaps it was because the Heavenly Demon was smiling.
"...And I also recall the children whose mothers never once scooped out an apple for them when they were young."
But the Heavenly Demon's smile did not last long.
"I recall the mother who could not buy an apple. I recall the mother who could buy one but did not. I recall the child who lay sick with a cold but had no one to nurse them. I recall the child who died without being nursed."
Venom.
The Heavenly Demon's black pupils were dark.
"In all this world, there is nothing untouched by the human heart, and therefore there is no place unstained by human resentment!"
My body went numb.
"Does starvation have no form? Does it have no taste? Does it have no scent? Thirst! Starvation is mud, and river water, and a child. Even a single apple is so. Child! Just as you made starvation into mud, do the same with thirst!"
"......"
"Feel the pain of thirst! Sense it. Fill in its taste. Smell its scent. Eat it. Gesture to it. The demonic arts are memory! Memory is sensation. This is the mind-art of our cult! The texture of scooping up mud and eating it, the sensation caught in your hand—that is your starvation, and that is your Demonic Heavenly God Art!"
The back of my neck went cold.
A chill current ran through my body.
"When common folk suffer injustice, that is all it is. They cannot speak. They cannot spit it out. The resentment they cannot spit out keeps piling up in their hearts, and at last it hardens into rancor. But we martial artists of the demonic cult are different!"
The Heavenly Demon looked at me.
"We swing our swords!"
Without realizing it, I gripped my sword hilt tight.
"Just as a courtesan sings and a scholar recites poetry, we swing our swords. What difference is there between some common bandit of the greenwood and a demonic practitioner of our cult? They are swung by their swords. But we swing our swords! That is all, and that all is everything."
Training began.
"How can you call merely living as you are lived life? That is death! How can you call a sword that is swung as it is swung a sword? That is a beast. Do you want to die? Do you want to become a beast?"
"No!"
I clenched my molars.
"I am a living human being!"
"Then thirst, quickly. Thirst as you once starved!"
I gathered 112 people who had starved to death.
Among them was a child who had gnawed on mud cookies.
I held the crumbly grains of dirt in my mouth.
Therefore.
Demonic Heavenly God Art魔天神功.
First Form第一式.
Sword of Starvation餓死流劍.
"You found the mud of starvation. Now you must find the something of thirst. To you, starvation was children waiting for sunlight. What is thirst to you!"
I gathered 48 people who had died of thirst.
Among them was an old woman who drank seawater and kept drinking.
I pickled my organs in salt water.
Therefore.
Demonic Heavenly God Art魔天神功.
Second Form第二式.
Sword of Thirst渴死痺劍.
"To you, starvation was mud, and thirst was the sea. But is the pain the sea reaps only thirst? There is also the pain of drowning in seawater. There is the pain of drowning in river water. Child, what was water to you!"
I gathered 37 people who had drowned.
Among them was a father who had breathed his last breath into his own child.
I sank into the water and shared breath with Agwi.
Therefore.
Demonic Heavenly God Art魔天神功.
Third Form第三式.
Sword of Drowning溺死滿劍.
"Hunger is earth. Dryness is waves. To you, suffocation is a father's last breath! Already the earth and the sea and the air are yours. Child from beyond the frontier! What is winter to you?"
I gathered 96 people who had frozen to death.
Among them was a newborn who had clung to its already-dead mother's body until the very end.
I hugged the corpse tight until I froze.
Therefore.
Demonic Heavenly God Art魔天神功.
Fourth Form第四式.
Sword of Freezing凍死接劍.
"......"
Dawn faded. Morning passed. Midday flowed by.
The world spent half a day.
I spent 293 deaths.
"Child, your sword is......"
The Heavenly Demon spoke slowly.
"Truly ever-changing."
The look in the Heavenly Demon's eyes as she watched me had changed as well.
"Every person has their own tendencies. In martial arts, the life of the one who unfolds it seeps through. It is a habit that cannot be fixed. The Demonic Heavenly God Art is especially so, and you, child... you are diverse. Truly rich."
"Ah, I often hear that I have a certain diverse charm."
"......"
"Sorry. Was that nonsense?"
"No, it was dogshit."
"That's a bit harsh."
"To be honest, it was dogshit nonsense."
Was it. Dogshit nonsense......
Well, if it was dogshit nonsense, there wasn’t much I could do—
"It is difficult for a human to know all pain. Even if one knows it, to experience all pain to its very limit... is exceedingly hard. And yet, watching you unfold the Demonic Heavenly God Art, it is almost as if...... ...Hm?"
The Heavenly Demon furrowed her brows. She turned her head.
"...Someone is coming."
From the direction of her gaze, someone was approaching. It was still broad daylight, so it couldn't be a zombie, and since the world had already been destroyed, it couldn't be an uninvited guest. It was the Murim Alliance Master and Viper. Viper was carrying the Murim Alliance Master on his back, walking across the snowfield.
"Hm."
The Heavenly Demon twitched her nose.
"What business does this old fossil have here? And what is that pathetic sight? Ha, have you finally admitted that you're a decrepit old grandpa?"
"Shut up."
The Murim Alliance Master spoke from Viper's back.
"I came because I was worried about you, you wench. Hmph!"
"Worried? Worried? A passing jiangshi would burst out laughing. An old fossil weaker than me, in a position to worry about me......"
"Demon, you still haven't received the Nine-Bow Rite, have you?"
"......"
"Tsk. So predictable, so predictable! I knew this would happen."
The Heavenly Demon shut her mouth tight.
I tilted my head inwardly.
'What's the Nine-Bow Rite?'
-It’s a rite performed in the jianghu when establishing the bond between master and disciple.
The guardian spirit said.
—The rite differs slightly from sect to sect. Some places really do perform nine bows literally, some do three bows...... I don't know how the demonic cult does it. It's a secret and sacred ceremony.
'What was it like in your sect?'
—Hmm, if you took nine blows to the head from your master and endured, that was the Nine-Bow Rite. I endured up to the 63rd generation—the longest record in the sect's history, they say. Impressive, right?
I realized why the guardian spirit was a madman.
A madman's sect is extraordinary from the start.
"...Quiet. I shall decide whom and when I take as a disciple."
The Heavenly Demon said curtly.
"This is not a matter for you to interfere in."
"Nonsense. This is absolutely something I must interfere in!"
The Murim Alliance Master climbed down from Viper's back with a grunt. The old man glared fiercely at the Heavenly Demon.
"Because the reason you won't take a disciple is, obviously, because you feel sorry toward me!"
"Huh? What do you......"
"We are the only two people of the jianghu left. By coincidence, you are the only demonic practitioner, and I am the only orthodox martial artist. If you alone take a disciple, only the Demonic Cult’s successor will remain in the jianghu. What’s the conclusion? It’s no different from winning the Orthodox-Demonic War without even fighting!"
"......"
"You and I promised to settle things between the two of us. We swore it. You're too uncomfortable to break that oath, too sorry toward me, to take that young child as your disciple, aren't you!"
Hm.
'...That makes sense. There could be a reason like that.'
Being in the same situation, but taking a disciple alone and passing on your teachings.
Considering the Heavenly Demon's feelings, it's plausible enough that she'd feel sorry toward the Murim Alliance Master.
Except.
"Tsk tsk tsk tsk, tch. Pointlessly thick loyalty!"
"......"
"I knew you'd be like this, so I made the first move."
The Murim Alliance Master clapped Viper on the shoulder.
Viper smiled wryly and scratched his cheek.
"Well, that's how it happened."
The Heavenly Demon's eyes went wide.
"You, you old fossil... you didn't take that child as......"
"Yes! From today, he is my head disciple!"
"How dare you do this to me!?"
The Heavenly Demon lunged at him. Crash! Bang! The two masters rolled across the snowfield in a brawl.
"Do you know with what heart I refused the Nine-Bow Rite all day today! And this old fossil treats my sincere heart as if it were nothing......!"
"Shut up! When fortune comes to you, accept it with gratitude to the heavens! Refusing just because you're worried about what I'll think is no way for a person to behave!"
"What about the Orthodox-Demonic War!"
"Does the Orthodox-Demonic War have to be fought by the two of us! If our disciples fight, that's also the Orthodox-Demonic War!"
"I cannot accept it unless you are my opponent!"
"Spoken like a true demon, with that extremist way of thinking!"
"What did you say!"
The woman grabbed the old man by the collar.
The old man, not to be outdone, grabbed the woman by the hair and glared.
"Demon, you demon! You're always like this. If it's not this, it's that, and if it's not that, it's this. You fool! The world doesn't split just because you split it!"
"The world you see may be an ocean, but the landscape I see is a sheet of ice! Of course it splits when you split it!"
"Then melt it!"
"To melt it, there is the fire called the demonic path! There is the firewood called demonic practitioners!"
"Then add one more log!"
"Bu Wol-seon, you bastard......! Spoken like a true hypocrite of the orthodox faction, twisting my words......!"
So the argument went back and forth between the old man and the woman. Every time they grappled, two different worlds clashed with a metallic ring.
A world, it seemed, could take root even in a brawl that felt so utterly undignified.
Leaving the two worlds to fight, I looked at Viper.
"That's a bit unexpected."
"What is?"
Well, I couldn't exactly say outright that someone as 'real' as you taking a master was surprising.
I phrased it a little indirectly.
"Aren't you the Heavenly Martial Sect Master, Viper? Is it all right for a sect master to take a new master?"
"Shit. If there's a place to dance with swords, you dance with swords. If there's a master to learn from, you ask to learn. I'm not idle enough to nitpick every little thing like that."
Viper grinned. A manly smile settled on his rugged face.
Hm.
"Viper."
"What."
"I'll be clear with you. If you took on that old Murim Alliance Master as your master half-heartedly—because you got pushed into it, or out of pity—you'll regret it."
The two worlds were still fighting loudly.
This was different in nature from Viper being pushed by his disciples into the Chronicles of the Heavenly Demon for the sake of his pride.
That kind of thing would be an insult to those two worlds.
I couldn't forgive it.
"...I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."
Viper scratched his cheek, then raised his single eye once.
"Shit, what's the Death King muttering on about? If you've got something to confirm, confirm it with your sword."
With a sharp sound, Viper raised his sword.
"It won't be easy."
There was an easy way to confirm it. If I opened Viper's status window, it would become clear.
But instead, I spoke quietly.
"Viper."
"Yeah."
"Have you ever starved?"
Viper blinked his single eye.
"What?"
In that moment, I charged.