The Heavenly Demon Goes to Visit His Master (6)
The old man, carried on the back of the mountain spirit of Seoryeong Mountain all the way home, answered her with indifferent calm.
“How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere else?”
“It’s fine.”
The spirit grumbled that he would cause trouble if he didn’t explain properly, but the old man had no attention to spare for her complaints. The vision the woman—who had claimed to be the Flame Spirit of another world—had shown him still lingered vividly in his mind.
What she revealed was nothing short of paradise for anyone who practiced the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. After witnessing such a thing, how could any martial artist possibly remain still?
Whether the woman’s identity was truly that of the Flame Spirit was an important, complex question. Still, it could wait. She had shown him goodwill, so there would be time to speak later. But the martial art itself could not wait. This realization, this enlightenment—it might slip away at any moment, so he had to seize it now.
When the old man slid from the spirit’s back and immediately began preparing to practice instead of lying down to rest, the spirit gasped in horror.
“What do you think you’re doing?! Your body isn’t normal right now!”
The old man ignored the voice. In truth, he no longer even heard it. His eyes were fixed on the path that stretched beyond, leaving no room for anything else.
“Aaaah, seriously!”
The goal of those who wield the Heavenly Demon Divine Art is not the seat of the Heavenly Demon itself. That is merely a byproduct of reaching the pinnacle. No—the true aim of its practitioners is to ascend to the heavens.
The old man regulated the inner energy within his body through deep breaths, then took a deliberate step toward the sky. Each time he performed the familiar forms of the divine art, fresh enlightenment flooded into him.
So this is what it meant.
Indeed, it can be interpreted this way as well.
This phrase—was it always meant to be understood like that?
His body had been pushed to its limit in the recent battle against the Blood Cult Leader, yet the old man felt no fatigue whatsoever. How long had he lingered at his current realm? How many years had he remained stagnant, unable to advance, unable to reach the peak, unable to see the end, all because enlightenment would not come? How many years had he spent trapped beneath a wall that seemed impossibly high and thick?
That wall was finally cracking.
One step—rising above the clouds, the sky now beneath his feet.
Another step—unleashing the inner energy of the Heavenly Demon’s art.
One more step—gazing down upon the myriad demons.
The cracks in the wall of enlightenment widened steadily, but his pace grew slower in equal measure. Sensing this, the old man felt a surge of anxiety. The wall was thick and sturdy. Would mere cracks like these truly bring it down? Could he widen them further? Was this wall only a single layer to begin with? And even if it collapsed, wouldn’t another wall simply rise in its place?
Having spent far too long simply staring at that barrier, the old man could no longer trust his own martial insight. Perhaps that hesitation was the cause. The brilliant light of enlightenment that had shone so clearly before him began to fade. The path ahead grew distant once more.
Am I to be blocked by this wall yet again?
“Do not doubt yourself.”
The voice came at that exact moment.
“It is the path those who learned from you have already overcome. Are you saying you cannot do the same?”
The voice continued, gentle yet firm.
“The wall may appear unbreakable, but that is only because you stand beneath it.”
“You are one who wields the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. Ascend to the heavens.”
“I will lead the way.”
The woman redrew the path that had begun to blur, clearing the road that climbed toward the sky. The old man followed behind her without hesitation. Upward. Higher still. Then, at some point, he glanced down—and saw the wall far beneath him. What had looked so thick and impenetrable was in reality paper-thin. Only then did the old man understand. The thickness had existed only in his own mind.
In that instant the woman stepped aside, and the old man prepared his fist. The moment he thrust it forward, he snapped out of his inner world and witnessed his own strike cleaving through the forest, slicing across the mountain ridges, soaring toward the heavens. It had not yet reached the sky, but the old man felt no regret. He now carried the certainty that one day, it would.
He gazed quietly at the sky for a long moment, then closed his eyes and surrendered to rest.
*
The moment enlightenment bloomed, the benefactor smiled with deep satisfaction and closed his eyes—only to topple backward. He should have crashed straight into the dirt, but the mountain spirit beside him caught his body in a frantic rush. Not a single scratch marred him.
“This is exactly why I told you not to push yourself!”
The benefactor had fainted, yet I felt no real concern. His breathing was steady and the flow of his inner energy remained normal. More importantly, that final strike seemed to have carried him past the wall. Once his body recovered, it would only grow stronger. There was even a chance he might undergo a complete transformation into a vessel better suited for the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, perhaps even reverting to a more youthful state in the process.
“So that’s why you enjoy tormenting your body so much. You learned it from your master, didn’t you?”
Baru frowned as she spoke, but I had no real rebuttal. The way I now taught others was the natural fusion of the Divine Cult’s methods and the brutal training this old man had once put me through. Since he himself had come from the Divine Cult, it was fair to call it their style.
When I smiled faintly, Baru let out a long sigh.
“So what now?”
“We wait until he wakes.”
I pushed the fussing mountain spirit aside, lifted the benefactor onto my back, and carried him.
“How can you treat a patient so roughly!”
“He’s perfectly fine. You know that as well as I do.”
“Even so…”
“Enough pointless chatter. Tell me where I can lay him down. Or do you intend to leave him on the bare ground forever?”
My sharp tone made the woman grumble, but she guided me inside. The benefactor’s home was as spartan as the one we had once shared. I still couldn’t understand why someone who could obtain wealth and fame at will chose to live so modestly. It had puzzled me then, and it puzzled me now.
After laying him on a thin scrap of cloth that barely qualified as bedding, I found myself at a loss. It was obvious he would sleep for quite some time. The question was what to do until then. I had already destroyed every last Blood Cult underling on the way here, and this barren mountain offered nothing of interest. Smoking my pipe and playing with Baru felt wrong while she was putting on such formal airs in front of another spirit.
Hmm.
“Excuse me…”
While I stood with arms crossed, deep in thought, the mountain spirit approached.
“What is it?”
“I couldn’t greet you properly earlier amid the chaos. Thank you for saving both our lives. Without you, we would have died without question.”
“Think nothing of it. I was merely repaying the grace I once received from the benefactor.”
I knew full well that this benefactor was not the same person who had saved me in my previous life. The one who had rescued me had died smiling at the end of a desperate battle. Saving this world’s version of him would not change the past. Yet a person’s heart is not so easily severed. Having once owed him my life, I could not help but see them as one and the same. In saving him, I felt as though I had finally repaid a debt I had carried for far too long.
It was not only the benefactor and the spirit who had been saved. I had been saved as well. Therefore, no thanks were necessary.
When I shook my head firmly, the spirit looked troubled.
“However—”
“Baek So. In moments like this, it is enough to simply let it pass.”
Baru cut her off. The spirit called Baek So chewed her lip for a moment, then nodded.
“I understand. Then, could you at least tell me your name?”
“It’s Min-ga.”
“Lady Min-ga, then. I thank you once more. I will engrave this debt deeply within my heart.”
I wanted to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she seemed to need the formality to settle her own thoughts, so I let it be.
“Please wait a moment. We have a guest, so I shall prepare at least a modest reception.”
“Is there anything here to prepare with?”
Having lived with the benefactor before, I knew he was not the sort to keep hospitality in mind. His philosophy had always been that rough food, drink, and a place to sleep were enough. I doubted he had anything stored away.
“There isn’t. But I can use the spirit’s own provisions…”
“That will suffice.”
I had never encountered any spirit food or drink that surpassed modern cuisine. In a world already infused with modern knowledge and technology, I saw no reason to bother with spirit fare.
“Huh? But it’s spirit food. It exists on an entirely different level from the food of the lower world—”
“Baek So.”
“What? Baru, you keep interrupting…”
“The food humans eat these days cannot even be compared to spirit cuisine.”
“Really?”
Baru began describing the dishes she had tasted as if she were a prophet of new wonders. Baek So, who had at first only half-listened, soon became utterly captivated. She swallowed hard, eyes wide, hanging on every vivid detail.
Hmm. Perhaps I should take both spirits to a proper restaurant later.
As that thought crossed my mind, a message arrived.
The message included a link. When I tapped it, it led to a community post. The image showed clouds splitting apart to reveal a clear blue sky. It must have been the aftermath of the punch I had thrown at the Blood Cult Leader. Someone nearby had apparently recorded the strange phenomenon.
After I confirmed it, Harin sent another link—this one leading to a flood of complaints from my viewers. Seeing their passionate outrage about how I had “set the stream on fire” without actually streaming, my hand instinctively reached for my pipe.
…Maybe I just won’t turn on the broadcast tomorrow.