An Interesting Trick
Sun Wukong swallowed a low growl.
Even the Great Sage himself fell silent at the enemy whose form had taken shape before him.
The seven strongest demons the world had ever known: the Seven Great Sages.
And among them, the Bull Demon King had been the eldest brother. He was, in equal measure, truly vicious and truly powerful. He was also wiser than anyone.
If the Bull Demon King had rampaged around like I did, all hell would have broken loose a long time ago.
Sun Wukong's thoughts drifted back to a distant past — the moment during their pilgrimage when a final confrontation with the Bull Demon King had become inevitable. Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing had charged in together, the three sworn brothers as one. Even that had not been enough. Heaven's own reinforcements had arrived. The countless gods who had once come to capture Sun Wukong now fought on his side.
And still they had failed to kill the Bull Demon King.
Had he refused to surrender and fought to the death, they might have succeeded in slaying him. But if they had, half of Heaven would have been wiped from existence.
Sun Wukong let out a sigh.
It's not certain.
The new clue pointed, regrettably, toward the Bull Demon King — but Sun Wukong would not leap to a conclusion. That he was the most likely suspect, however, could not be denied.
"Honghaea wouldn't just burn an Earth Deity to ash for no reason."
The Samadhi True Fire was Honghaea's unique art. The kalpa-fire of hell itself. A blaze that consumed everything in the world, steel included — a flame so fierce it could even shrivel the Great Sage's own hide. The same Sun Wukong who had emerged from Taishang Laojun's Eight Trigrams Furnace without so much as a scratch.
"Besides, that brat Honghaea — no matter how old he gets, there's still a reckless, empty-headed streak in him."
According to Myodu-eung, he even claimed to know his own past life. His temperament likely hadn't changed much either.
"He's got a lot in common with me."
More precisely, with Sun Wukong in his stone-monkey days. A reckless, rampaging delinquent with no sense of consequence. The only one who could treat Honghaea as a mere limb to command was his own father — the Bull Demon King.
"Honghaea's a powerful little bastard, sure, but he doesn't have the guts to steal Tang Sanzang's soul all on his own."
"That's right. He's always lacked the nerve."
The Bull Demon King, on the other hand, was a different story.
Sun Wukong shoved the faintly rising memories back into a far corner of his mind.
"More than anything, that brat Honghaea doesn't have anything like Fate Perception — the power to glimpse past lives."
Sun Wukong's Fiery Golden Eyes were a kind of Fate Perception. They could peer into previous incarnations. Descending from Heaven to the mortal world had weakened that power, so he could only grasp the true form of a soul when the lock was undone. There was no way Honghaea possessed such a gift.
"But the Bull Demon King..."
Sun Wukong let the words trail off.
Even he had never fully grasped the extent of the Bull Demon King's abilities. The man was cunning, and exceptionally skilled at concealing himself.
He might well possess Fate Perception.
If so, it would also explain how he could draw in demons bound to Sun Wukong by such suspiciously persistent karmic ties.
Sun Wukong sighed. Every clue pointed to the Bull Demon King. And yet he hesitated — and he had a reason.
The Bull Demon King's strength? Sun Wukong acknowledged it. Across Heaven and Earth alike, the Bull Demon King was among the most powerful beings in existence. But that was no reason for Sun Wukong to hesitate.
"Hmph. You think I'd be afraid?"
From the days when he was nothing but a stone monkey, Sun Wukong had bared his fangs at Heaven itself. He had defied the Jade Emperor to his face, and never once yielded against the tide of gods that came crashing down upon him. A strong enemy was nothing more than a bitter medicine that made Sun Wukong stronger still.
"The problem is how the Bull Demon King could even be in the mortal world."
"...That's true. The Bull Demon King is locked in Heaven's deepest Thunder Prison."
"A prison no one can escape."
There were only two such prisons. The five fingers of the Tathagata that had imprisoned Sun Wukong — Wuxing Mountain. And the Thunder Prison that held the Bull Demon King, which lay beneath the Tathagata's own foot.
He was in there. Without a doubt. There was no escaping it. Whoever was orchestrating events in the mortal world could not be the Bull Demon King.
When Sun Wukong had escaped Wuxing Mountain, Tang Sanzang had been there...
"...!"
Sun Wukong's body jerked as if struck by lightning.
The only reason he had escaped Wuxing Mountain was Tang Sanzang's power. Only Tang Sanzang had been able to free Sun Wukong from a prison that had held him for centuries.
Then what of the Bull Demon King, beneath the Tathagata's foot?
Sun Wukong pressed a hand to his brow.
Ghostly blue fire blazed in Sun Wukong's eyes.
Sun Wukong felt a familiar, grinding frustration. If it really was the Bull Demon King, this was something he needed to discuss with Heaven.
"Master Janggyeong only comes when the time is right."
He grunted. So he had no choice but to wait until then.
Sun Wukong shook off the lingering attachment and turned his gaze. Myodu-eung was watching him in silence, a faint light of fear stirring in his eyes. Sun Wukong let out a short sigh.
Against Honghaea's Samadhi True Fire... he still gave it everything he had.
He had fought until his body burned and death closed in. He could have taken wing and fled, and yet he hadn't. Myodu-eung had performed his duty without fail. The result had been failure — but the duty itself had been done.
Sun Wukong pulled the iron staff free from the floor. Myodu-eung flinched.
"You did well."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"Rest easy in the afterlife. When this business is finished, I'll go up to Heaven myself and see to it that you can ascend."
Myodu-eung's eyes flew wide at a mercy he had never expected from Sun Wukong.
"If you're done here, clear out that damned fog and put everything back the way it was."
"Ah — yes. Yes, of course. And, Great Sage Sun — please, take these."
Myodu-eung appeared with something held in his beak.
"Hm?"
Two elixir pills. Even at a glance they were no ordinary things. An elegant fragrance unfurled through the hidden grotto.
"They are my Inner Cores."
This was no mere spiritual beast's core. It was the Inner Core of an Earth Deity. Was there anything in the world more precious? A human who ate one would become a sage or a monk worthy of the world's reverence. A sage or a monk who ate one would gain the power to ascend. A rare treasure beyond any doubt — and there were two of them.
Sun Wukong's face, however, was thoroughly unimpressed.
"And what exactly am I supposed to do with these?"
"Well..."
For a moment Myodu-eung had nothing to say. Fair enough — what use would such things be to a god of Heaven? And not some lesser deity, either, but Sun Wukong, the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven.
Sun Wukong clicked his tongue at the owl's expression.
"Still, now that I think about it, I might have a use for them."
Communion with Heaven, was it?
"I might be able to call Master Janggyeong whenever I want."
An Inner Core of Myodu-eung's caliber could let even a mere human ascend. In Sun Wukong's hands, even with all the restrictions binding him, it might be enough to summon Master Janggyeong at will.
Without a shred of hesitation, Sun Wukong popped one of the pills into his mouth.
A thread of divine energy unfurled toward Heaven — thin, but enough to carry a will across the divide.
Myodu-eung watched him, tense as a drawn bow.
"..."
Nothing happened. Sun Wukong's brow furrowed.
"Compared to Taishang Laojun's elixirs, isn't this a bit crude?"
"That's... if you're going to compare it to the man who does nothing but make those pills..."
"Well. It'll do."
Sun Wukong nodded. He could feel it — he would be able to send his will toward Heaven even now. Master Janggyeong would likely appear the moment he called.
"And this other one..."
"When you find Tang Sanzang, you must have him take it."
"Tang Sanzang?"
"The body his soul left behind is rotting even now. His stature is so exalted that it has held together without so much as a visible mark — for the time being. But..."
"Once it starts to go, it'll collapse all at once."
"Yes. When that happens, this Inner Core will be able to protect Tang Sanzang's flesh, if only for a short while."
Sun Wukong nodded. The Inner Cores Myodu-eung had given him were proving far more useful than he had expected.
"And with that, I shall take my leave. I have told you everything I was bound to tell."
"Go on, then."
"And... this child. I was not able to teach him to the end. Great Sage Sun, I beg you..."
Sun Wukong thought of the young Myodu-eung, and a wry smile touched his mouth.
"I'll raise him well."
"Thank you."
With those last words, Myodu-eung's body slumped to the floor. He was purring — though he was no cat — drawing shallow, ragged breaths. Sun Wukong smiled that same wry smile and tucked him carefully into his robes. The cat whose territory had just been invaded, for a wonder, did not hiss. It simply licked the owl's feathers with its tongue.
"You two get along now."
Mrrrow.
The cat answered as if it understood. Feeling the new weight against his chest, Sun Wukong walked out of the hidden grotto.
"Hm...?"
Sun Wukong blinked. A young man stood before him — a faintly unripe, boyish face. He wore the martial uniform of the Namgung Clan, and at his hip hung a sword with a blue scabbard traced in white.
Who's this?
The youth must have seen Sun Wukong, and yet he did not so much as glance his way. He simply swung his sword, all at once. Sun Wukong folded his arms and watched.
The presence was weak, the form wretched. There was no strength in the tip of the blade, and no center in the line it carved through the air. The youth poured out a grinding sweat and repeated the motion with stubborn, grinding persistence.
Sun Wukong snorted a laugh.
"This... this is what you martial artists call a fateful encounter, isn't it?"
That was no living man. It was a remnant — a trace. The image of the Namgung Clan's founder, who had once trained in this very place. Namgung Ryong himself.
Sun Wukong watched with genuine interest. The young man's face aged, slowly, before his eyes. The features grew grave. The mouth closed into a hard, unyielding line. The sword strokes changed with him — sharper, more solemn, weighted with a gathering heaviness.
Why did this fateful encounter awaken now?
This place was managed by the Namgung Clan. Someone would have known. Or perhaps it had been hidden well, all this time. Either way — why trigger now?
Only one thing had changed since before.
Did Myodu-eung's Yeongryeok awaken it?
Well. Spiritual energy of that magnitude would alter the very currents of the world around it.
Sun Wukong kept watching, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. Then, all at once, he felt a tickle at his fingertips. He lifted his iron staff.
What the man was swinging was a sword. You could not imitate that with a staff. Sun Wukong moved as if such a limitation had never so much as crossed his mind.
He followed the wretched, unripe sword strokes that Namgung Ryong had swung with that boyish face — not with a blade, but with a staff. And in the same breath, he adjusted every motion to the weapon in his hands. The movements were utterly different, and yet he transmuted them into staff work so naturally it was as if they had been staff forms from the beginning, tracing every remnant Namgung Ryong had left behind in his youth.
Namgung Ryong was a man in his prime now. Streaks of white ran through his hair. Each time he swung, the air around him shuddered under the weight of the blow.
Sun Wukong's eyes lit up.
The sword Namgung Jinbaek had once shown him — not in its finished form, but in the act of being born. The original shape, before any heir had refined it.
This was the process of a sword being completed. No — the process of a sword being created for the first time. It was different from anything Sun Wukong had seen. The differences from the form Namgung Jinbaek had swung were stark and unmistakable. This was the technique in its most primordial state.
The corner of Sun Wukong's mouth curled up.
"Now this is interesting."
The Unfettered Firmament Sword raced on toward its end. And as it did, the robust man in his prime began to shrink. His hair went white. His back bent. His face filled with wrinkles — the face of an old man, complete and unmistakable. He swung his sword with visible effort. Speed and weight had both faded, but the center of each stroke was clearer than it had ever been.
Sun Wukong's iron staff moved with him.
The sword traveled slowly. Very slowly. So minute that even watching it, you would not have believed it was moving at all. Sun Wukong missed none of it.
Then, at some unremarkable instant, the iron staff stopped.
"..."
Namgung Ryong was gone. Every trace carved into the walls ended there.
"...Unfinished, then."
Nothing beyond this point.
Sun Wukong knew what this was. The end of the sword that Namgung Jinbaek so often spoke of. The Sovereign Sword Form.
But Namgung Ryong had never completed it.
Sun Wukong stood for a long time with his arms folded, sunk in thought. How much time passed, he could not have said. A thin laugh escaped him.
Turning every one of those movements over in his mind, Sun Wukong walked out of the hidden grotto.
The fog that had clouded and confined the world around him was gone without a trace. A landscape of deep, living green opened before his eyes.
"Ah...!"
Sun Wukong's gaze met Namgung Muyoung's.
In front of the grotto, the young successors had gathered with exhausted faces.
Ugh...
Sun Wukong's expression soured with annoyance. If he had left the moment Myodu-eung departed, he never would have run into them. But he had lingered over a fateful encounter, time had slipped away, and they had found their way here. This was the final gate, after all.
He figured he would tidy the situation up in rough strokes and be on his way.
That was when Namgung Seowol called out.
"The last trial!"
"...What?"
The ones who reacted to those words were the other young successors. Jegal Seoseo cried out.
"Ah — does that mean Teacher Sun is the examiner for the final gate?"
"..."
"To think we'll finally get to witness Teacher Sun's martial arts."
Sun Wukong looked at them in silence. Namgung Muyoung tilted his head, puzzled. Everyone else gripped their weapons tight, faces bright with no small amount of anticipation.
Sun Wukong's brow furrowed.