Heir of the Wolf's Blood (9)
"Hey, is Sambung still alive?"
"...Don't call me Sambung. It's so stupid."
In response to Mukgang's calm question, the Sima Family servant, bodyguard, and assassin, Jang Sambung, shook off the dirt and chunks of flesh clinging to her body and stood up.
It wasn't like she'd been knocked down by the enemy or anything. She'd just ducked to stay alive.
...Yeah. To avoid getting swept away and killed by that natural disaster of a man—the Esoteric Buddhism protector lion, the Immovable Bright KingMukgang—she'd flattened herself like a bug.
She turned her head and scanned the surroundings. Unlike her, the corpses of the demonic cultists who'd been blown away by the calamity were scattered everywhere.
She knew from the brief clash they'd had—they weren't weak at all. Skill, experience, coordination—everything was top-notch. Even in the eyes of a fellow assassin, they were ideal killers.
She glanced subtly at the riverbed that had turned into a wasteland from a single stance of Mukgang's.
...But Mukgang was overwhelmingly stronger.
From between the piles of corpses, she eyed Mukgang warily as he picked up the shirt he'd taken off earlier—without a single scratch on him—and dusted it off. She'd known the Esoteric Buddhism protector lions were strong, but not this strong.
What she really wanted was to hurl a steel orb at him right then and there—
"Eek, eek—monster! Get out of our village right now!!"
—but if she did, she'd probably get a knuckle to the head and her skull would explode, so she swallowed her true feelings quietly and brought up another topic.
"You're this strong, so why'd you tell the young master to run?"
"They were strong enough in a middling way that I wasn't confident I could hold back without hurting the Sima siblings. And..."
Mukgang put on his faint signature smile and answered Jang Sambung's question matter-of-factly.
"I told them to go. Never said to run away."
A sigh escaped at the unexpected wordplay. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked toward the warehouse where the explosion had happened.
"...Looks like that's over on that side too. Did he survive? Or die?"
"He's a genius who deceives even the heavens. Of course he won."
Jang Sambung burst out laughing at Mukgang's nonchalant tone, which felt like teasing and praise at the same time.
Exhaust all human efforts and await heaven's decree. Or in other words, plotting affairs lies with man, success with heaven. Man plans the deed, but heaven decides its outcome.
In the end, heaven is what matters. Heaven determines man's fate.
...But what if someone appears who can deceive even that heaven?
It was so absurd she couldn't stop laughing. His name was literally Mancheon—Deceive Heaven—from the start.
She thought of her cheeky, arrogant young master, who was also a close friend. Even if heaven rolled the dice and got a one, that guy would calmly cheat and turn it into a six.
A natural-born gambler. The one who deceives heaven, which decides victory or defeat, to seize certain triumph—Mancheon.
...Maybe his name was as irreverent as the Heavenly Demon, the Supreme Demon of Past and Present that those demonic cultists revered.
As rain began to pour and the sky darkened to a gloomy gray, Jang Sambung gazed up and thought that.
It was ridiculous even to her own mind.
Confined to my room on the strict orders of the physician and my mother that I absolutely needed rest, I rolled around on the bed thinking about the full story Jang Sambung had told me of this incident.
My brow furrowed involuntarily. It made no sense.
A band of thieves targeting our wealth had organized an assault on the Sima Family Manor. With the help of our guards and some passing heroes, we'd driven them off.
...Did they really think I'd buy that ridiculous nonsense?
'Heavenly Demon Divine Cult Black Killer Squad first-class assassin, Shadow Blade.'
I recalled the face of the enemy I'd staked my life against. He was a scumbag, but he had this weird fanaticism and pride for the organization he belonged to.
And he was way too strong for a mere thief. No way a guy who'd pushed Sima Mancheon—the genius who deceives even heaven, proudly listed on the Immovable Bright King's name tablet—to the brink of death was just some bandit.
My pride wouldn't allow it. And he'd openly declared he was from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult anyway. Not a thief.
No need to take the enemy's word at face value, but it hadn't felt like a lie.
I stared blankly at the ceiling. It was the familiar ceiling of my room, but for some reason, it felt strangely foreign today.
...I'd sensed it before, but there was some secret in our family. I wasn't sure about Mother, big brother, or the other servants, but Father and Jang Sambung were definitely hiding something.
I didn't know why, but they were keeping it from me.
Even I, who knew little of the martial world, knew the Heavenly Demon. He was the demon king who showed up in every wuxia novel—cooking meals, growing flowers, hunting, raising kids, streaming broadcasts, teaching school, even going to space. A total Renaissance man of the martial world. Hell, practically the Da Vinci of Murim.
If the Murim Alliance hadn't pettily shunned the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, maybe an industrial revolution would've happened under the Heavenly Demon.
Anyway, that powerhouse organization led by such a capable Heavenly Demon had marched troops against a well-off rural family. And lost.
They hadn't brought their full forces, sure, but they still lost. Defeated by a country squire.
This was like some grand archmage terrorizing the fantasy world who storms an elementary-high school academy and gets his soul stripped bare. Utter nonsense.
...My head hurt. No answers no matter how much I pondered, just exhaustion.
If I absolutely needed rest, I couldn't go outside, and no one visited except at mealtimes. No way to get info.
It was recovery in name only—I was locked up. Felt kinda isolating, honestly.
I was a reincarnator with past-life memories, sure, but I still thought of myself as part of the Sima family, as family. Didn't expect to be sidelined like this, secrets kept from me.
It was like being kicked out of the family group chat.
...Well, positively speaking, if there was a reason to hide it, they hid it. No way they'd really ostracize their precious baby boy they loved more than their own eyes.
There had to be some circumstance I didn't know. I'd corner Father later and talk it out; it'd come naturally.
Everyone has a secret or two. Even I hadn't told my parents I was a reincarnator or that I'd learned martial arts. Not hidden super thoroughly, but not properly revealed either.
Didn't want to dump the confusing info that I was a reincarnator on them.
...Didn't want to seem like some mysterious weirdo or outsider. That was it.
Guess I'd been cooped up too long in this boring, empty room. To shake off the gloom, I got up from the bed, assumed a stance, and practiced my forms.
I recalled the heavy straight punch I'd thrown at the demonic assassin. To revive that sensation, I even deliberately tripped and thrust out my fist.
Recalling the feel, recreating the situation, I obsessively explored new techniques. Cleared my mind of stray thoughts.
"Come on... grit your teeth, demonic cult. My Bright King Fist is gonna hurt."
"...What're you doing?"
Lost in solo practice, I spun around at the calm voice.
Cool night breeze blew in through the half-open window.
"Uncle Mukgang! Knew you were too tough to die~ Damn!!"
"Don't call me uncle."
Mukgang gave a wry smile at the noisy young disciple, who'd survived mortal danger, and spoke calmly.
"Bright King Fist is sealed."
"Huh? Why?"
When I questioned the ban on my hard-earned new technique, Mukgang answered with a graver face than usual.
"At your current level, you can't handle it properly. If you wanna use it, eat a lot, train a lot. Learn Thousand-Jin Pendulum Drop first."
Mukgang looked down at Mancheon's right leg and scolded him sternly.
"In a fight, banking on luck twice is suicide."
He wasn't confiscating it or banning it forever, so I nodded obediently.
"Got it. Anything else?"
"Nothing else. Take care."
"You too, old man."
Mancheon accepted Mukgang's calm farewell unusually calmly. He didn't want to grab his master's ankle and drag out an unfinished goodbye when the man had come all this way.
...Have I grown a bit?
Thinking that inwardly, he handed over the silk pouch he'd prepared just in case.
"Not much of a parting gift, but pull one out when you're bored."
He hadn't planned to accept it originally, but after checking the contents, Mukgang smiled faintly and tucked the pouch into his bosom.
Inside was a bundle of jerky.
"Thanks. I'll eat well."
With that, he turned and walked away silently. He never lingered long in one place.
Kill monsters, protect people.
That was the role and duty of Esoteric Buddhism's protector lion, the Immovable Bright KingMukgang.