Truth Will Out
"Tell me — have you learned the Yakseon Heart Decision?"
A dreadful premonition is never wrong. And so I knew at once that Singija's question was no question at all — it meant this was nothing more than a confirmation procedure, already steeped in certainty.
I understood, too, that the flying needle the Sovereign of Destruction had loosed at me had never been meant to do me harm. It had been a probe — a check of whether I had achieved the Golden Body of the Second Stage.
"…"
In truth, I had long assumed this day would come. A situation, that is, in which someone caught on to the fact that I had learned the Yakseon Heart Decision.
There were several reasons for it.
The first was that I, barely past twenty years of age, had been unable to conceal my arrival at the Harmony Realm. Merely hiding it would not only have left me helpless before the many crises I faced; it would also have sat ill with my chosen path of winning renown and climbing to Number One Under Heaven.
There was also the fact that the number of people who knew I possessed the Empty Blue Stone Milk had reached ten. I had disclosed its existence only to those I trusted, but I knew the word secret was already wearing thin. As a man who had handled information for a living, I was not so green as to commit the folly of classifying anything known to more than ten people as a secret.
The greatest reason, however, stemmed from a simple fact: the Yakseon Heart Decision was a far more widely known art than one might imagine. The reason this secret supreme art of the Number One Under Heaven was rated as no more than top-grade information in the beggar houses was that well over a hundred manuscripts of it had already been unearthed across the Jianghu. It seemed Yakseon had been determined to leave his legacy behind, one way or another.
In any case, I had always believed that if anyone was to catch on to my having learned the Yakseon Heart Decision, the first would be Singija. The reason was simple: of everyone in today's murim, Singija knew the Yakseon Heart Decision best.
"Master the Yakseon Heart Decision to its completion, and you will ascend to Number One Under Heaven."
I knew well that the man who made that pronouncement — after studying and dissecting the Yakseon Heart Decision more thoroughly than anyone alive — was none other than the Murim Alliance's Chief Strategist, Singija.
In other words, one could call the present situation a case of truth inevitably coming to light, and no one would fault the assessment. It was only that I had crossed paths with Singija sooner than expected.
"Exercising your right to silence, are you?"
"…"
It was not so much a right to silence as that I did not know what answer to give. But I knew the present situation posed no great problem. Failing to answer an elder's question would be a breach of etiquette — yet when the question pries into the inner history of a man's martial arts, it is the asker who commits the rudeness. I knew my silence was something that could be accepted as perfectly within bounds.
"I see."
But Singija knew, and I knew, and I could hardly deny that as a rule, silence meant affirmation.
"My apologies. I could not contain my curiosity, and in doing so committed a rudeness."
Seeing Singija smile faintly as he said it, I knew his confirmation was complete. In truth, the question had never been necessary at all. Would he have flung that needle at me with such murderous force over anything less than absolute conviction?
"I won't ask you to answer. I simply have a little story — a guess of mine, spun out through deduction and flights of fancy. Care to hear it?"
My head nodded of its own accord.
"Do tell."
Was spreading one's imagination wide to bridge the missing links of information not the finest of games for an information broker? Having lived the life of a Bright Beggar, I simply could not turn away from so entertaining a tale.
"First, you obtained the Empty Blue Stone Milk. The place — Mount Cheonjung in Henan, perhaps?"
I knew the question How did you know? would be meaningless. By chance or by necessity, he had found my trail there, and had deduced accordingly. There was no reason to deliberately cheapen his estimation of me with a second-rate question.
"The Blue Phosphor Liquid you obtained through Haomun. No doubt you made contact through Hwawollu?"
This, too, was astonishingly close to the truth. It had been three years by the count since I first formed my ties with Yeo Wol and Ma Sok, so there was nothing strange in my having been caught in his web.
"Where you obtained the Vermilion Fruit, I cannot say. But I suspect you came by it before attending the Dragon and Phoenix Assembly."
Fortunately, it seemed he had not placed my every move under surveillance. But the Vermilion Fruit is the kind of elixir that works outward changes upon the body, so I knew it had not been a difficult deduction.
Singija knew of the Empty Blue Stone Milk that opened the body for the First Stage, the Blue Phosphor Liquid that forged the Golden Body for the Second, and the Vermilion Fruit that granted imperviousness for the Third. It meant a great deal could be reconstructed by working backward — hardly cause for great wonder, I'd say.
"Your realm has pioneered the Spirit, so I know you secured an elixir of ten thousand years as well. But such elixirs come in many varieties, so I cannot say precisely which."
That I had entered the Harmony Realm was something Yeom Gi-ha had witnessed with his own eyes. There was no denying it.
"My guess would be some connection to the Black Water Gate — but that is pure conjecture, so I'll move on."
That one surprised me a little. His renown as the Jianghu's foremost mastermind was no empty boast, and that was precisely why his deductions and imaginings came so unnervingly close to the truth. Perhaps Singija had truly been born an information broker rather than a strategist. Not that he was a man of nothing but imagination, of course.
"And right now, in your breast, you carry the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng."
So Singija brought his tale to a close, making no effort to hide that he was a man of rock-solid intelligence.
"Whether your approach to the Ice Palace delegation was chance or design, I will not ask. In the end, you were right."
It was right, indeed, to call him a man whose name was no empty boast. The Murim Alliance's Chief Strategist, Singija. The head of the Secret Pavilion, where this Bright Beggar had once lodged during the Great Righteous-Demonic War — of course he would deliver at least this much.
However…
Even Singija, who seemed to know all things, had one truth quite beyond his knowing.
"Truly, a blessing of heaven…"
His murmur was correct. What else could one call a being who had obtained not one but several supreme elixirs — any single one of which a man might never welcome into his hands in an entire lifetime?
"Just what in the world are you?"
What was written in his eyes at that moment was best described as virulent curiosity.
"Could it be — do you, too, possess spiritual eyes, as Yakseon did?"
My apologies, but no.
"That's a secret."
I could hardly tell him.
"And if I were to threaten it out of you?"
Following curiosity, the emotion that seized Singija's eyes looked to be competitive pride — with a dash of displeasure and anger stirred in.
But.
"You won't."
He had picked the wrong mark, I'd say. My eye was far too seasoned to be taken in by so amateurish an act.
At my flat refusal, Singija failed to hold back a snort of laughter — no doubt from the embarrassment of having his performance so helplessly exposed.
"My, my. Forgive me. I underestimated you. My apologies."
"Apology accepted."
"Much obliged."
I knew the man called Singija. Human beings are, by nature, creatures who wear one face over another — yet even granting that, the fact remained that Singija was a gentleman of the loftiest kind. He was not a man who would resort to force to dig out my secrets. Of course, from here on he would surely mobilize every information network he possessed to unearth them anyway.
"Kahahaha! So even you get taken down a peg now and then."
Yeom Gi-ha, the Sovereign of Destruction, watching from the sidelines, cut in with a booming laugh, thoroughly entertained. Singija's gaze swung toward him. He said nothing at all.
"Ahem."
Yeom Gi-ha hastily swallowed his laughter. A scene that called for updating one's intelligence on the chain of command between the Murim Alliance's Chief Strategist and its Alliance Leader, I'd say.
In any case, the Sovereign of Destruction — who had done nothing but observe since flinging that needle at me — now stepped forward.
"So you've completed the Fourth Stage?"
"I have."
They knew far too much for hiding the truth to serve any purpose now.
"Come along."
As though this, too, had been settled long in advance, Singija did not bar Yeom Gi-ha's steps. Some ominous foreboding stirred in me, but refusal was not on the table. My station and my strength were alike insufficient to defy the Alliance Leader's word to his face.
Trudging after Yeom Gi-ha as he shuffled along like some idle rogue, I soon beheld the Murim Alliance's vast training grounds in all their grandeur.
"Follow me."
With that, Yeom Gi-ha flitted up to the very center of the arena. I flitted up after him, and so the Alliance Leader and I came to stand facing each other at the heart of the training grounds.
"Hmm."
Truly not good, I'd say. A bad feeling was stirring — and hard on its heels came the certainty that the feeling would prove true.
"Hey, Gija."
"I have told you not to call me that on official occasions."
"Chief Strategist."
"What is it, Alliance Leader?"
"If the Yakseon Heart Decision has reached its Fourth Stage, how strong should I take him to be?"
Singija pondered briefly, then answered.
"If he has reached the Fourth Stage, he will only just have bloomed his Spirit — so it would be right to see him at the very threshold of the Harmony Realm. That said, given the Yakseon Heart Decision's efficacy, it would be difficult to view him as a mere initial-stage Harmony Realm cultivator. You may as well consider him at the level of Harmony Realm mastery."
"Oh ho."
What settled into Yeom Gi-ha's expression resembled that of a child who has found a fascinating new toy — and it chilled me more than any murderous aura could have.
"I, too, have long since passed the point of standing on my own two feet and walked on from there."
To discuss the realm of Harmony Realm mastery and offer nothing more than having stood on his own two feet — Yeom Gi-ha was rightly called a monster. I knew all too well that he had never had a proper master to guide him.
"Why do you think I urged you, long ago, to have him learn the Yakseon Heart Decision?"
Singija chided him, and Yeom Gi-ha shot back.
"And didn't I ask you for the Empty Blue Stone Milk on account of that?"
"How was I to give you what did not exist?"
"Ngh."
Yeom Gi-ha could not win against Singija. At least, not with words.
But this peaceful, heartwarming scene did not last long.
"Come at me."
For Yeom Gi-ha's attention had turned back to me.
"Pardon?"
When I asked him to repeat himself, Yeom Gi-ha kindly obliged with an explanation.
"I will exert only the power of an initial-stage Harmony Realm. So come at me."
At those words, Yeom Gi-ha's killing intent exploded, and my skin prickled. It was the first time I had faced killing intent so patiently given form, and before I knew it, my fists had clenched.
"Fall short of my expectations, and you may truly die. So do give it your best."
The savagery of a fierce tiger settled over his face. I took it that my refusal had been refused.
Hwoong—
A sword strike came hurtling at me that looked fit to cleave even Mount Tai in a single stroke. I could hardly afford an untimely, violent death, so I threw myself aside in haste.
Kwakwang!
The floor of the training ground — bluesteel, by my guess — had been gouged deep. This was no jest, it seemed.
"Not bad at all!"
When a starved beast bares its savage killing aura, even a beast locked in a cage makes the knees of those who watch go weak. At least, such is the case for ordinary men. That would describe my heart at this moment. It means I felt as though I had become an ordinary man.
Cheeong!
"Kgh."
Unable to overcome the colossal force packed into Yeom Gi-ha's sword gang, my figure went skidding back a long stretch — telling the same story.
"Oh? You blocked this one too?"
"…Had I not blocked that one, my torso would be lying in two pieces."
"Kahaha. But you did block it, so all's well, no?"
Rationally, I knew the Alliance Leader Yeom Gi-ha would not kill me. And yet my Dancheon Sword had, at some point, already drawn forth a vivid sword gang and planted itself in the path of Yeom Gi-ha's. I would call that inevitability itself. Is the instinct to survive not the very essence of the inevitable?
Pah!
Yeom Gi-ha's figure blurred, then vanished outright. It was the art of shifting form and trading position, honed to its very limit. I had witnessed it in the decisive battle against Muje as well, but it was swift beyond belief.
I could hardly stand there and simply take it, so my Cloud-Treading Steps gave chase to his figure.
Cheong!
My sword gang shot out at blistering speed for the vital point at Yeom Gi-ha's waist.
"Oh, not bad at all."
"Steel yourself."
When else in my life would I ever get to draw out everything I had?
Cheeong!
"Kahaha! This is fun!"
And so, in the space of an instant, we traded a hundred-odd exchanges.
But…
Kagang!
And then — stillness. For I simply could not follow the subtleties of a Grand Master. Yeom Gi-ha's blade had come to rest beside my neck before I knew it.
"Whew. You just died there, my friend."
As if all that killing intent had been a lie, the blade resting beside my neck was still enough for a butterfly to come land upon.
It was a scene that, after a long while, brought memories of Uncle Yeo-baek to mind.
"…I lost."
I still had a long, long way to go.