The Heavenly Demon Goes to Meet Her Master (1)
From a time long past—around the period when I had fled the Ice Palace as if driven out—I was relentlessly pursued by all manner of martial artists, orthodox and unorthodox alike. The orthodox factions were simply doing their utmost to tie up the loose ends of their own deeds, while the unorthodox either acted on commissions from the orthodox or chased after the secret manuals and glory of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. In either case, I had no allies. The moment the Cult collapsed and the children of the Ice Palace fell into slumber, I became nothing more than a lone outcast left behind in Murim.
Back then, I was stronger than most martial artists, yet far from the overwhelming force I am now. Thus, I could not afford to be leisurely while evading their pursuit. My life was no different from that of a pauper barely scraping by day to day. Though I tried to deny it, deep down I knew how this flight would end: in their hands. And what would follow would be anything but gentle. Perhaps it would be better to end my own life rather than meet a horrific death at the hands of the orthodox. After trampling so many lives to survive, was it truly right for me to decide my own ending? I agonized over it countless times each day, but being a coward, I could never reach a conclusion.
Then one day, my escape reached a crisis. I still remember the scene vividly. Poison from the Tang Clan had rendered my limbs unresponsive to my commands. My head spun. The inner energy I could no longer control turned against my own body. Amidst it all, sounds ceaselessly echoed around me—the footsteps of my pursuers, their shouts, the rustle of bushes, snapping branches, the cries of beasts, the whistle of flying daggers aimed at me. There was no way out. The net they had cast was far too fine, and the fish I had become was hopelessly frail. Too large to slip through the gaps, yet too weak to tear the net apart, I was doomed to be caught and perish quietly.
When the poison reached my crown and even my forcibly held eyelids refused to obey, I knew it instinctively. I was going to die. The tale of the human named Baek Ara, cast into Murim, would conclude in tragedy. Yet as you can see, I am still alive today—because I encountered a fortuitous encounter.
When I awoke, I stared at the aged wooden ceiling and tried to guess where I was before bolting upright. Recalling that I had just been chased by Murim's people, I moved in haste, only to be stopped by an old man's low voice.
"Those who were chasing you left long ago. Rest a little longer."
"...Who are you?"
"Me? Just an insignificant old man who buried himself in the countryside long ago."
At the time, my benefactor did not reveal his identity. He merely said he had helped because he happened to come across a pitiful child. Having endured countless hardships to reach that point, I did not believe an old man who claimed to act out of goodwill. I had been betrayed too many times by the word "goodwill" to trust it. Convinced that some impure motive lurked behind his intentions, I planned to flee the moment my body recovered. It was only after receiving advice from him that I first let my guard down.
Once I could move somewhat, I resumed training the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. With everything else lost, it was the only thing I had left, so I clung to it desperately. Yet progress was sluggish. Back then, I was merely a talented junior disciple. Without a master to guide me or a manual to follow, simply flailing my body about was never going to yield results.
Even then, I knew the answer but turned away from it. The reality before my eyes was so despairing that I wished to avert my gaze.
"What do you think will change if you continue like this?"
The old man appeared suddenly and spoke after watching me practice the divine art.
"Why are you suddenly interfering?"
"Because what you're doing is pathetic."
"What about the martial art I'm using—"
"How could it not be pathetic when someone wielding the Heavenly Demon Divine Art cannot even envision the Heavenly Demon within their own heart?"
Those words from the old man were a single realization that pierced straight through the problem I carried. He was right. I had been blindly training the Heavenly Demon Divine Art without ever considering what the Heavenly Demon truly was. Without a core in my heart, what difference would endlessly training the divine art make?
Having gained that insight, I felt the things I had learned so far swirling in my mind before suddenly asking the old man, "Just who are you?"
"Did I not say? I am but an insignificant old man."
After that, for whatever reason, the old man began guiding me directly. He helped me establish "Pacheon" as my core, taught me how to find the path suited to myself, and in the end, willingly threw himself into death to save me. There was good reason I still call him my benefactor to this day.
Yet that man is alive?
"Why?"
I could not comprehend it. This was beyond the scope of my understanding. How could that old man have survived? He had clearly lost his life in the battle against the Murim Alliance Leader back then!
"Even if you ask why—"
"Answer me. Now."
Baek Hwaryeong, I cannot believe the words you are speaking right now, so answer me. After my benefactor died, I had replayed that scene countless times. I wondered if there had been another choice I could have made to save him. After burying him. After wandering Murim and completing my revenge. After newly establishing the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. And after that Blood Cult trash played his games with my benefactor's corpse. I thought and thought and thought again! And do you know what conclusion I reached? That at my level back then, changing anything had been impossible. Because I had been too lacking to even intervene in the fight between the Murim Alliance Leader and my benefactor, the moment the Alliance Leader came looking to eliminate me, my benefactor's death had already been decided.
"Tell me how my benefactor survived."
"Min-ga?"
At that voice, I looked down to find Baru gazing up at me with worried eyes.
...I had gotten worked up. Habitually placing the pipe in my mouth to steady my emotions, Baek Hwaryeong spoke.
"There were several crises we faced while living with that old man, but only one where my master nearly died. When the Murim Alliance Leader came. Did your master lose his life at that moment?"
"Yes."
"I do not know what answer you are hoping for, but I can explain the situation back then. When the Alliance Leader found us, my master and I faced him together."
The word "together" raised a question, and I cut her off. "At your level back then, you could intervene in that fight?"
"Yes. I was not much help, though."
That... that should not have been possible. Thinking so, I suddenly remembered that the Baek Hwaryeong before me was a different person from myself. I was a modern person who had fallen into the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult without knowing why, while she was a Murim native who had grown up in the Cult from the moment of her birth. Now I had lived longer and experienced more, so I stood at a higher realm than her, but back then—when I was being chased by Murim people and barely clinging to life, when I was growing little by little under my benefactor's guidance—what had it been like? There was no need to ask. As a Murim native, she must have been stronger than me, an outsider.
"Hah."
A laugh slipped out. Baek Hwaryeong had driven a wedge into my conclusion that my benefactor died because I had been weak, and I could not help but laugh. I thought I had long since cast aside my doubts regarding my benefactor, but apparently not. The things I believed I had shaken off were still perched on my shoulders. I simply had not felt their weight.
Thinking the pipe smoke was not drawing properly, I looked down and saw that the pipe had been snapped in half. To think I had been so shaken that I did not even notice this. I tossed the broken pipe to the floor and snatched Baru from Baek Hwaryeong's arms.
"Return. I will contact Han Seo-woo."
"...Mm. Understood. I shall do so."
"Next time you come, do not bring those strange foods like before."
"Hah. Does this seat look like one to repeat the same mistake?"
"And one more thing. When you return, inform the Cult's head chef about modern ingredients."
That fellow took pride in his cooking, so he would not change easily, but he was a chef nonetheless. Once he realized he was wrong, he would try to improve.
"I was already planning to."
With those words, Baek Hwaryeong rose from her seat. Watching her leap away beyond Mount Hua, I contacted Han Seo-woo before burying my face in Baru's fur.
"Min-ga."
"What is it?"
"May I ask what this is about?"
Baru must have been quite bewildered. Two people who looked alike had been passionately discussing things only they understood right in front of her. Moreover, the story contained within was hardly something one could understand under normal circumstances. If I had been a little calmer, I would have realized I needed to send Baru away before speaking. No matter how old I get, wisdom does not come easily.
"It seems it will be a rather long and bewildering tale, so I would like to talk while moving."
Because someone I suddenly needed to meet had appeared. There was no time to talk leisurely here.
"Do as you please. We have nothing but time to spare, after all."
I would need to think about where to begin this complicated story, but for now, let me address one thing.
"That said, the word 'we' feels a bit off. After all, the one lounging about all day is you and you alone."
"Huh? This seat cannot comprehend what difference there is between you and me."