Once Brothers, Brothers Forever
Reckless Blade, Paeng Ga-heon.
In truth, men called him the Reckless Blade on the grounds that he swung his saber about with wild abandon—but that, I would say, was a misbegotten epithet. The Harmony Realm is no soft, easily-won height, not one a man could scale by flailing a blade at random.
He was, after all, a man who could wield even the prejudices held against him with consummate skill. If any name truly captured the man, it was not Reckless Blade, but Fox Bear.
I chose my words with care.
"How could I have put off acting, when it was for the sake of the entire martial world?"
Chwipung-gae. My father, Dancheon Gang. My uncle, Bang Yeo-baek. Facing men like these had taught me something: against masters who had touched the Transcendent Peak, honest, straightforward play worked far better than any half-baked scheme.
"As expected. I can feel the mettle of a great house in you."
Paeng Ga-heon nodded quietly. And yet...
"But wasn't it rash of you?"
"Pardon?"
"Suppose the two of you had blundered in too soon, and they had caught wind and fled. What would you have done then?"
"That would be..."
Just as I moved to object, Paeng Ga-heon cut me off and carried on.
"No. Had they run, it would have been for the better—we could simply have hunted them to the ends of the earth with the full weight of the Murim Alliance. But what if it had been the two of you who fell?"
Having said his piece, Paeng Ga-heon turned his gaze upon me.
"Crimson Dragon Dancheon Myeong. I know well enough that you proved your worth at the Dragon and Phoenix Assembly."
Then his eyes moved to Yi Chun-baek.
"And the Vagabond, Yi Chun-baek. In truth, they say that had you not given up at the third trial, a seat among the Dragons would have been yours."
I was taken aback. I hadn't imagined he had the two of us mapped out in such detail.
"You are the pillars who will carry the martial world into its new age. You would do well to learn the difference between recklessness and confidence."
"..."
While I paused to gather my thoughts, Jao-gae of the Beggars' Gang—my sworn brother of a single day's bond—stepped forward.
"Great Hero Paeng, the Crimson Dragon here is already a master who has touched the Transcendent Peak Realm, and the Vagabond Yi Chun-baek is a rising master who has likewise reached the Transcendent Peak. To call masters of the Transcendent Peak rash—that word does not apply."
As I thought. The Beggars' Gang had both Chunbaek and me fully sized up.
At any rate, snorting through his nose, Jao-gae pressed on.
"When new pillars of the martial world pull off a shining exploit, isn't it a senior's duty to sing their praises? Great Hero Paeng, what manner of conduct is this? So being Shanxi Branch Chief means you may do as you please?"
And thus unfolded a rare spectacle indeed: a mere Third-Knot Beggar going head to head with the Murim Alliance's Shanxi Branch Chief.
Once a brother, a brother for life.
The Righteous-Blood Beggars' Gang never betrays its brothers.
For a brother's sake, its beggars will carve a path straight through a mountain of blades and a forest of swords.
Jao-gae. Looking at him, I could see Chwipung-gae's silhouette laid over his own.
Yes—this, this right here, was what it meant to be of the Gang. Choosing the Beggars' Gang in my past life, I thought, must have been the luck of a hundred generations. It was why I could never help but love the Gang.
"Right. I went too far. My apologies."
The moment Jao-gae stepped in, Paeng Ga-heon yielded a half step. No doubt he did so because he, too, held the Righteous-Blood Beggars' Gang in respect.
When I shot Jao-gae a small look of thanks, he answered by secretly raising a thumb from beside his waist.
"First, I'll need to sort this place out."
So saying, Paeng Ga-heon brushed past me—and in that same instant, I heard his transmitted voice.
"You have your own secrets, don't you?"
His gaze had come to rest on my chest, and I knew exactly where it was truly aimed: the case bulging beneath my robe.
"This time you're the one who received help, so I'll let it pass. But be careful. The martial world is not nearly so soft a place as you seem to think."
I gave nothing but a silent nod.
Nothing under heaven serves a man better than being rock-solid. Looking ahead to everything my plans would demand, I felt the need, keenly, to be more thorough and more careful still.
It was a private room—even at an upscale tavern, such a thing could be had only for a steep price. There, I met Yi Chun-baek, just the two of us.
"You've got money on you, I take it?"
"Plenty."
I still carried nearly the whole of the payment for the Empty Blue Stone Milk sold to Yeo Wol of Hao Gate—rich, I was, beyond argument.
"Good. Then why did you bring me to a place like this?"
"There is something I need to tell you, Brother Chunbaek."
"Ho. Coming from a man who never used to say such things, that's a little frightening."
The reason I had sought out the private room of an upscale tavern was, of course, to slip the eyes and ears of the Beggars' Gang—which is to say, this tavern stood under the management of Hao Gate's Shanxi operation.
And for evading the Gang's notice altogether, there was nowhere in the world quite like Hao Gate.
Glug, glug, glug.
"A drink first, I think."
"Gladly."
We split a top-shelf Jiannanchun between us.
"Ahhh—"
"Haah—"
Yi Chun-baek, who flinched and grimaced every time cheap tavern swill so much as touched his lips, was grinning from ear to ear.
"Give me just a moment."
This place was beyond the Beggars' reach—but in exchange, I knew, Hao Gate's eyes and ears were everywhere here. Having reached the Transcendent Peak myself, I could see through their watching eyes without trouble, but their listening ears were a different matter entirely.
A low hum. Fine-tuning my inner power to the utmost degree, I wove a membrane of qi that wrapped around Chunbaek and me alike—a feat of qi possible only for one who had reached the Transcendent Peak.
"All right. Tell me, then."
Unlike me—tense despite myself—Chunbaek remained as calm as ever.
"Brother Chunbaek, would you be interested in an elixir?"
At my question, Chunbaek gave a short laugh.
"Find me one warrior in all the martial world with no interest in elixirs."
He wasn't wrong.
After a moment's struggle, I resolved to be honest with him. Partly it was that he was the first true friend of my life, and I did not care to feed him a single lie—and partly, I think, it was a quiet longing to loosen the distrust of humankind that had taken root, without my ever noticing, in some corner of my heart.
I drew the case from my breast and flipped it open—click—and held it out for Chunbaek to see.
"What is this?"
"The Ten-Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root."
"...!"
He had known it was some manner of elixir, but he plainly had not bargained for a name of that magnitude—Chunbaek's composure cracked for an instant. Yet his discipline ran deep, and he recovered his bearing at once.
"As you have no doubt guessed, Brother Chunbaek, I took it from Black Water Gate."
"..."
Before he could answer, I hurried on. Perhaps some fear still lingered in me—a dread of not knowing how he would react.
"Brother Chunbaek, I'll be straight with you. I truly need this. In exchange—"
So saying, I reached into my robe—
"Keep it."
For a beat I failed to grasp his meaning, and a pause stretched between us.
"That thing. I'm telling you to keep it."
Chunbaek confirmed it a second time.
"No—Brother Chunbaek, you cannot decide something like this so—"
But even that I could not finish.
"I didn't do it for the fleeceflower root, nor for any reward."
There was nothing but certainty in his eyes.
"I only wished to cut down those Demonic Cultists and help a friend. That was all."
It felt as though the tension that had filled the private room simply drained away.
"In truth, you handled nearly everything yourself. All I did was lend a little strength. The root is yours, fair and square."
Something surged up in my chest, and I could not answer straight away. Countless thoughts careened through my head, but my throat had jammed shut; in the end I could only grind out a single phrase.
"...Thank you."
That I could manage even that much felt like a small mercy. My choice to be honest had been the right one, I thought. That day, I believe, I gained a friend I could trust with my life.
"Still—this one is yours, Brother Chunbaek."
I plucked a thumbnail-sized glass vial from my robe and sent it flying at him. A treasure far too precious for such careless handling—but this was the surest way to see the vial end up in Chunbaek's hand. A master of the Transcendent Peak had no excuse to fumble a little bottle, after all.
Thup.
Chunbaek snatched the vial from the air, turned it over, and—evidently at a loss—asked me:
"What is this?"
"Empty Blue Stone Milk."
"Insane."
The composure Chunbaek had barely held onto before the fleeceflower root finally crumbled. I was getting a look at the real man beneath, and I had to admit—it was rather satisfying.
"Myeong, my friend—have you become some manner of elixir warehouse?"
I answered only with a smile.
"Right. That's a secret too, then."
"It is."
I nodded. By now he knew enough of me to stop asking.
"I cannot accept something this precious."
I had guessed he would say exactly that.
I turned away from the hand holding the vial back out toward me and pressed on.
"My original plan was to settle the price of the fleeceflower root with this."
"I told you—the root is yours. There is no price to settle."
"You're right, Brother Chunbaek."
Even as I agreed, I shook my head—for I had more to say.
"But didn't you say you were giving me the root freely? Then I shall give you this freely as well."
At my stubbornness, Chunbaek's face turned helpless.
"I can't take it."
I met his eyes.
"Please take it."
"..."
"I am asking it of you as a favor."
Hoo. Only after I had gone so far as to call it a favor did Chunbaek, after a moment's struggle, let out a long breath and tuck the Empty Blue Stone Milk away inside his robe.
"Thank you. I'll put it to good use."
I knew this man. I knew full well what manner of person the Yi Chun-baek of today was—and I knew, too, how many common folk and orthodox warriors the Yi Chun-baek of a certain future would save in the Great War of Righteousness and Evil, under the name of the King of Vagabonds.
True, I meant to build a future in which that war never comes to pass—but as I kept telling myself, nothing under heaven serves a man better than being rock-solid.
The Chunbaek of today, or the Chunbaek who would have stood as the King of Vagabonds, hero of a war now fated never to be—whichever he became, if he took the Empty Blue Stone Milk, I was certain the future that came would be all the brighter for it.
All the same, I needed to ease his mind a little.
"Just think of it as a gift from your little brother, and accept it."
"All right. Thank you, little brother Myeong."
For the first time, Yi Chun-baek had called me not "Myeong, my friend," but "little brother Myeong."
"Ha ha. Drink every last drop of it—and don't you dare think of selling it."
"Understood."
Though we poured no more Jiannanchun, we sat looking at each other and laughing all the same.
Only once the words were out did I finally understand. The future of the martial world, the war to be forestalled—my head had been there all along, but it seemed my heart had not. I had simply wanted to give Chunbaek the Empty Blue Stone Milk. To the friend to whom, for the first time in my life, I had given my whole heart.
"One more cup of Jiannanchun, then."
That was all there was to it.
The Fourth Stage of the Yakseon Heart Decision: Amplification. At long last, I had obtained the Ten-Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root needed to achieve it.
If my heart had its way, I would have entered the Fourth Stage's work then and there, just as I had the moment I took the Empty Blue Stone Milk—but that was not to be. It was on Yakseon's counsel.
"Once the Fourth Stage, Amplification, is achieved, essence, qi, and spirit shall be merged as one, and you will arrive at the Convergence of the Three Harmonies. So did this old one teach."
"But there is a thing my fated one must needs know: the Fourth Stage turns upon a mechanism somewhat unlike the stages before it."
A different mechanism. That was why I could not simply walk into the Fourth Stage.
And so I had turned the problem over in my mind—who might help me solve it? And just now, I had arrived at that person's residence.
If I had to put a word to what I had done, "infiltrated" would be the honest one—seeing as I had slipped past every other pair of eyes to get there.
When her face came into view, I gave a small wave. She stared blankly at mine for a moment—
"You!"
she shrieked. Some things, it seemed, never changed.
I pressed my index finger to the tip of my nose in the beggars' hand signal for silence, and once she had quieted, I drifted down softly at her side on my light-body art.
"It's been a while."
"What business could possibly bring you looking for me?"
Her puzzlement was fair enough. This was the first time I had ever come to her first.
"I found myself with some business to attend."
"So you have finally learned the courtesy of calling on a lady first?"
"Let's say that I have."
It was Yang Su-rin, second daughter of the Yang Family Hall.