My Little Sister is from the Fire Cult (10)
No one could have anticipated Yeomhwa's request, but Mukgang nodded once at her and then at me, his expressionless face as impassive as ever.
"Understood. I shall teach you the Immovable Bright King Step."
It was great news, but his crisp agreement to teach such a technique sparked some suspicion. I eyed Mukgang's face closely. Was it because he'd promised to grant any request, or was this art not as tightly guarded as I'd thought? His utterly serene expression gave nothing away.
Impossible to read. Like staring at a rock.
"But starting tomorrow."
Mukgang glanced down at the grim-faced thugs sprawled on the ground, his emotionless gaze devoid of feeling.
"...I'll be dealing with these men now. Return to this spot tomorrow."
Fair enough—regardless of good or evil, showing a kid the messy business of dispatching people wasn't ideal. Psychologically, educationally, it was a no-go. And he didn't strike me as the type to bolt after chickening out on teaching.
"You're not the kind to break a promise and run. Oppa, let's withdraw for now."
Yeomhwa seemed to think the same, gently tugging my sleeve as she looked up at me.
Agreement between siblings—always a win.
I glanced up at the clear blue sky. In hindsight, a lot had crammed into this short time. If it were a novel, it'd be about 9,000 characters, give or take.
The true nature of the flames from Yeomhwa's hand, why Mukgang called her a monster—plenty nagging at me—but I looked at Yeomhwa tilting her head cutely up at me.
Adorable.
A soft smile crept onto my face unbidden. I gently stroked her hair.
"Yeah, let's head home."
For now, gratitude for surviving the day. Stuff myself with food, get some rest. Stamina was running low.
As the harmonious siblings departed, Mukgang addressed the figure lurking endlessly in the forest shadows, watching for an opening.
"They're gone. Why not come out now?"
"...You noticed? Can't fool you."
Anyone would see an ordinary face, ordinary build, ordinary servant strolling casually from the woods. Sima Family servant, guard, assassin—Jang Sambung.
"N-No misunderstanding, please. Our young master and lady caused you trouble. I was pondering how to make amends."
"That's between me and those children. No need for your concern."
The forest trembled at her brazen attitude—threatening a Sima right in their front yard, yet utterly unapologetic. Dozens of assassins unleashed their killing intent.
Formless energy flew like a hail of arrows, only for Mukgang to counter with a single step, crushing it down.
"So, will you engage?"
At Mukgang's provocation, steel beads spilled from Jang Sambung's sleeve, loading between thumb and forefinger.
"...Nothing stopping me."
A powder keg on the verge of explosion. But suddenly, Mukgang released his energy first, signaling no intent to fight, and spoke to her.
"Enough. Convey my regards to Sima Bu."
"What message shall I relay?"
"Tell him he raised his child well. A dog father begets a tiger son."
"...Worried for your life, elder. I'll omit the latter half."
"And since I handled what your people should have, you'll clean up."
"Of course. We'll take care of it. I'll inform the family head of your efforts."
Jang Sambung glanced at the unconscious Blood Cult grunts, signaled her assassins to gather them, then flashed a servile smile and bowed to Mukgang.
"Then we'll withdraw."
With the cultists, assassins, and siblings all gone, Mukgang sat alone on a suitable rock, recalling the boy's face—the one he'd somehow ended up teaching.
He'd thought they resembled each other at first glance. But Sima Bu's son? By age, the second. Though the eldest was a fake, adopted—the true heir carrying Sima blood.
...Who'd have thought the day would come to pass the Immovable Bright King's teachings to the next Sima Family head.
The world was truly unpredictable.
He recalled the girl who'd boldly made an outrageous demand for her brother's sake, despite his promise. A hollow chuckle escaped.
"Not a monster—a fox."
He'd been thoroughly outfoxed.
On the way down the mountain, I cautiously gauged Yeomhwa's mood.
...Was my desire to learn the Immovable Bright King Step that obvious?
Come to think of it, Ohae had said my likes were plain as day. Eyes sparkling like stars.
...Wonder how Ohae's doing.
Honestly, with her talent, no need for my worry. But in my memories, she was that chubby-cheeked, eye-meltingly cute baby, so concern came naturally.
"Oppa, what are you pondering so deeply?"
Yeomhwa, clutching my sleeve and matching my stride, tilted her head curiously.
"Ah... Kinda feel bad for you, actually."
A master like Mukgang granting a request wasn't commonplace. Using such a rare chance on me...
Glad as I was, it felt like snatching my little sister's snacks—guilty.
Sharing that thought with Yeomhwa, she covered her pretty mouth, letting out a quiet laugh. Then, affection shining in her beautiful red eyes, she gazed at me.
"Oppa, you find joy in my happiness?"
Out-of-left-field question, but no reason to hesitate—I nodded firmly.
"Of course. Your joy is mine."
At my firm answer, Yeomhwa beamed radiantly, like sunset glow.
"Me too. So no need to worry at all."
Yeomhwa lightly placed a hand on her chest, feeling her happily pounding heart. She smiled back at her brother, who grinned with that "gotcha" touched expression.
...Truth be told, she'd never cared about Mukgang granting her request from the start.
Today, she'd found a treasure far more precious than any gift from the Bright King.
Her beautiful red eyes gleamed with greed, reflecting only Mancheon.
The next morning, at dawn, I wolfed down breakfast at the Wall Valley Group and climbed the mountain. Dead set on mastering the Immovable Bright King Step, I'd held back from grilling Yeomhwa last night and slept soundly. Cleared my mind, managed my condition. Not perfect, but peak form.
"Heeey~ Your VIP has arrived."
Mukgang, seated cross-legged on a rock in meditation, opened his eyes at my voice. He greeted me in his flat tone.
"You're here. Let's begin."
"Uh... Fast start works for me, but you're teaching a martial art. No formalities?"
"I'm a guardian lion of the Esoteric School. Becoming my disciple means joining it. We'll skip that."
No desire to join some shady Esoteric cult. Music to my ears—I nodded.
"Fine by me. What's first? Warm up?"
"Start with meditation to clear stray thoughts."
...My weakest field, right out the gate. From deep within, the Dual Hands Mutual Combat jeered mockingly.
Five hours after learning the breathing for the Immovable Bright King Step from Mukgang and meditating...
...I realized something was wrong.
"Uncle, is this right? Feels off."
"You're a rock now. Rocks don't talk."
No... How's a person a rock? People are people.
Plenty to say, but he wasn't listening. I shut my mouth, refocused, and slowly exhaled.
Five straight hours cross-legged beside Mukgang, just meditating. Seemed easy at first—sit, breathe. Now? Opposite. Moving would've been better.
Per Mukgang, to use the Immovable Bright King Step, store the Bright King's energy in your dantian. But ordinary humans can't handle it. Become a natural object instead. Motionless like stone or tree, thoughtless, sleepless—forget even breathing, reach a realm of pure meditation. Only then can you embody the energy and step forth.
"...Haa."
A sigh welled from deep inside. Sure, a top-tier art meant tough training—but this was a different hell than expected.
Heaven-defying genius, Sima Mancheon.
Major crisis.