The Worth of a Sovereign's Life
In the Yakseon Heart Decision, the moment its teachings arrive at the Fifth Stage, Yakseon's recorded words grow truly long. Which is to say the Fifth Stage is every bit as important as its length suggests — though I suspect it owes just as much to the particular affection Yakseon held for the successor who would follow in his footsteps and attain the Fourth Stage.
Having already named the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng the foremost among elixirs of absolute Yin, it follows that you, Yeonja, must come to know the elixirs of absolute Yang as well.
The Fifth Stage bears the name Harmony, and so the accord of Yin and Yang is a point of no small consequence.
Fire qi is a common thing in nature, and the elixirs that answer it are likewise beyond counting.
The inner core of the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp, the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Spirit Herb, the Fire Spirit Divine Fruit, the Golden Flower Fruit, the Supreme Fire Spirit Fruit...
This many come to mind off the top of this old Daoist's head alone; even I pondered through long years which choice would prove best.
And at last, this old Daoist came to see.
If absolute Yin is the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng, then absolute Yang is none other than the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure.
This old Daoist, having failed to obtain the Snow Ginseng and taken the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Spirit Herb in its stead, matched it with the corresponding Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Spirit Herb — but for you, Yeonja, I pray that a fortune surpassing my own arrives at your door.
The pairing of Snow Spirit Herb and Fire Spirit Herb may rightly be called Harmony — yet it is the Snow Ginseng and the Supreme Blood Treasure together that form Harmony's very essence.
You, Yeonja, who have attained the Fourth Stage of the Yakseon Heart Decision, were born beneath a fortunate star; I counsel you to set your sights on the very best.
Yet there is one thing you must know, Yeonja.
Absolute Yang is akin to the tribulation fire; to so much as draw near it is to see your body grievously burned.
A treasure of the Supreme Blood Treasure's caliber would smash through the inner-power barrier of the Creation Realm as though it were paper — do not overtrust your own strength, I say.
And that is why you need the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng.
With the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng in hand...
Somewhere in the midst of reciting the Yakseon Heart Decision in my head, a sudden realization came upon me. Why, of all moments, had the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng appeared in the Jianghu at precisely this time? Why, in this life, had I formed ties so early with such extraordinary figures as the Sovereign of Destruction and Singija? And why was Singija laying every last detail of the situation before me, point by point?
Could it be... that all of it was fate arranged for the sake of saving the star called Yeom Gi-ha, the Sovereign of Destruction?
It was mere conjecture, and yet the thought pressed in on me all the same. Just as some unknowable force of destiny had orchestrated my regression, was it not now moving to preserve Yeom Gi-ha's life? So whispered my spirit — the spirit that had entered the Creation Realm and begun to awaken its spiritual nature.
"Don't tell me you've already secured the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure?"
Desire was legible in Singija's expression as he asked. No — a correction: rather than desire, a sense of duty would be the truer word. He wished for the Supreme Blood Treasure for the sake of the Jianghu's peace, and for the peace of Yeom Gi-ha, the Alliance Leader. That, at least, was how it looked through my eyes, so I answered his question in good faith.
"No."
Naturally, I did not yet possess the Supreme Blood Treasure. Not yet. Singija — who understood the Yakseon Heart Decision as thoroughly as I did, perhaps more so — grasped his own blunder at once.
"Ah. I admit my question was hasty. You've only just taken the Snow Ginseng — of course you couldn't have taken the Blood Treasure first."
"Just so."
Yeom Gi-ha, who had long since thrown the Alliance Leader's dignity to the wind, snickered.
"Well, what do you know. So even you get things wrong sometimes, Gija."
"Do be quiet."
"Hmph."
"And whose fault is it that I suffer like this..."
"Yes, yes. My apologies."
Singija's stern scolding looked a little different to me now. This was not a superior drilling discipline into a subordinate — it was the worry of a mother fretting over her own child.
In truth, Yeom Gi-ha's condition was much like that of Paeryeok Muje's son: having consumed so many elixirs over the years, his body had built up a tolerance to them. The only difference was that unlike Paeryeok Muje's son, Yeom Gi-ha's own martial arts reached the heavens themselves — and so he could put off the end for a great while yet. But it was equally true that his life was ebbing away, and Singija's urgency was easy to understand.
"Do you know the whereabouts of the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure?"
The only path left for saving Yeom Gi-ha's life was the Supreme Blood Treasure — the one elixir Yakseon had vouched for as the foremost of all absolute Yang. Which, in turn, spoke to just how mighty the fire spirit the Sovereign of Destruction carried within him had become. But...
...
I did not answer Singija's grief-stricken question right away. Silence held the initiative, and I meant to keep it — understanding another man's circumstances did not make me sentimental enough to lay my whole hand on the table. So instead of answering, I asked a question of my own, a move possible only because I was certain the initiative was mine.
"More to the point — there's no problem with my having taken the Snow Ginseng, is there?"
Singija regarded me with puzzlement, then asked in return.
"You didn't... plunder it from the Ice Palace, did you?"
"Of course I didn't."
"Then what could the problem possibly be?"
Singija's expression as he said it was like a clear mirror over still water — not a trace of base greed to be felt. At the very least, I could tell he was not a man ruled by petty covetousness.
"Without the Snow Ginseng, the Supreme Blood Treasure cannot be taken. You know that, don't you?"
"Why else would I be entrusting this to you?"
Ah. Perhaps Singija was, at heart, an utter pragmatist.
"The Snow Ginseng was never more than a means to the Blood Treasure. If anything, it's you — with your sights set on the Fourth Stage — who truly needs it. The rare treasure has simply found its rightful master."
And yet I did not miss the undertone that he was doing me a favor; this man was certainly no pushover. In any case, I understood his choice. Rather than wrest the Snow Ginseng from my hands, he had judged it far quicker to pursue his original objective — the whereabouts of the Supreme Blood Treasure — and woo the man who held the Ginseng. Namely, me.
"Hmm."
Weighing every circumstance, my mind began to spin. I, for one, wanted the Great Righteous-Demon War prevented more than anyone — which meant preserving the living deterrent known as Yeom Gi-ha, the Sovereign of Destruction, mattered to me as much as it did to Singija.
But still.
"If I save the Alliance Leader's life — what will you do for me?"
When something far more delectable was perfuming the air, how could I possibly walk past it? Letting slip a chance to collect extra pay on top of work that needed doing anyway — yours truly has never lived a life quite that pure or generous.
Singija asked.
"Do you want gold and jewels?"
"I have no need of them."
I already had plenty of money.
"Fame, then?"
"That I do need — but I won't be demanding it of you, Chief Strategist."
Fame, after all, only carries worth when you seize it with your own hands. I knew that much.
"Isn't it about time we stopped circling each other?"
To put an end to the fruitless back-and-forth, I had taken the initiative for the first time — and only then did Singija, wearing a knowing smile, speak.
"I shall grant you authority on par with a Unit Captain of the Murim Alliance's Special Operations Unit. How does that sound?"
I understood full well that this had been the true business of the day.
"Oh."
Even knowing it was coming, I could not quite hide my reaction.
"If you were to go beyond the Fifth Stage and turn your gaze to the Sixth Stage of the Yakseon Heart Decision... I believe it would help a great deal."
"I'll do it."
I snapped the bait up before Singija could even finish speaking — the offer was too attractive to waste a moment's deliberation.
"I'm not saying I'll serve as the Unit's Captain. I'm saying I'll take the authority equivalent to it."
"Naturally."
The 'I knew you would' look on Singija's face was galling — and yet I couldn't help but feel glad.
The Murim Alliance's Special Operations Unit.
An elite organization under the direct command of Singija, Chief Strategist of the Murim Alliance — and the forerunner of the Secret Pavilion, the outfit yours truly once called home during the Great Righteous-Demon War.
Ask the wanderers of the Jianghu to name the finest intelligence organization under heaven, and most will speak of the Beggar Sect or the Hao Gate. But I, having once served among the Secret Pavilion's ranks, know better: the Murim Alliance's Special Operations Unit is the very pinnacle of what an intelligence organization can be.
Authority on par with a Unit Captain meant the right to read most of what the Special Operations Unit knew — and I knew its worth could not be reckoned in mere gold. An unforeseen stepping-stone had just been placed in my hands, one that could carry me smoothly toward the Sixth Stage of the Yakseon Heart Decision. Even having regressed, I had had no idea how to walk the road to the Sixth Stage; weighed against that, I would call this nothing short of a heaven-sent fortune.
Unlike a pleased Singija, or a pleased me, one figure wore a glum expression now that the deal was struck.
"This is my life we're saving here — how come you're the only one stepping forward, Gija, huh?"
It was Yeom Gi-ha, the Sovereign of Destruction. The sulking face of an absolute master is a truly fearsome thing — but follow the drift of his words, and this too was welcome news for me.
"So you intend to give me something as well, Alliance Leader?"
"Isn't that obvious? Do you have any idea how dear my life is?"
It felt as though heaven-sent fortune were rolling through my door vine, roots and all, one blessing after another.
"And what would that be?"
I asked the Sovereign of Destruction with feigned calm, hiding how dry my mouth had gone — and hoping that a man who defied all ordinary common sense might hand over something truly extraordinary.
"Save my life, and I will acknowledge you as my successor."
...!
The answer did not come at once. The Sovereign of Destruction's dreaded renown was, as ever, no idle boast — I had never even come close to imagining the sheer breadth of the man's spirit.
The seat of Murim Alliance Leader was not hereditary. But if you asked whether that made the honor of being named Yeom Gi-ha's successor worth any less, I would say not for a moment — if anything, it made it worth more. Yeom Gi-ha was a warrior who had climbed to the very summit of the Jianghu alone in the world, never once having raised a successor.
Even if I never inherited the Sovereign's martial arts, at the very least I and the Dancheon Clan would now stand backed by the reigning Alliance Leader and Number One Under Heaven.
"Alliance Leader."
Singija called out to Yeom Gi-ha, visibly flustered.
"Gija, this falls within my authority."
"...Very well."
For the Alliance Leader — browbeaten by his Chief Strategist from start to finish — it was the first moment he reclaimed his dignity.
"In exchange, there are conditions."
"And those would be?"
I was the one who asked, but Yeom Gi-ha's gaze went not to me. It went to Singija.
"Gija."
"What is it now."
Singija answered coolly.
"If he completes the Fifth Stage of the Yakseon Heart Decision, how strong will he be?"
"Hmm."
True to his nature as a seeker of knowledge, Singija produced an answer without delay.
"Going by theory, he would begin to expand his spirit and wield intent — which would place him somewhere between a fully matured Transformation Realm and the mere threshold of the Profound Realm."
That matched my own understanding exactly.
"It is the realm Yakseon himself attained — and in the generation before last, a realm that might well have set its sights on Number One Under Heaven."
Number One Under Heaven.
That Yeom Gi-ha would stir at those words was inevitable.
"And set against me?"
"Hmm."
Singija pondered a moment, then delivered his answer.
"You would be the stronger, Alliance Leader. By quite a lot, actually."
What settled over Yeom Gi-ha's face at that answer was best described as a touch of disappointment.
"And the Sixth Stage of the Yakseon Heart Decision?"
The Sovereign of Destruction pressed again.
"The Sixth Stage is a road even Yakseon never blazed. It would be correct to call it a realm of imagination, existing in theory alone."
"It's possible all the same, isn't it?"
"...It is perhaps possible."
What lingered in Yeom Gi-ha's expression as he asked was, I suspected, anticipation.
"And if he reaches the Sixth Stage — how strong then?"
Singija heaved a long sigh and answered.
"Unprecedented. It would be right to see it as a mortal body reaching beyond the immortals themselves."
"The Life-and-Death Realm?"
The Life-and-Death Realm.
A legendary realm said to exist above the Profound Realm — and yet not one that could be dismissed as mere fancy, for the tales still passed down through the Jianghu of the Sword Immortal Lü Dongbin and the Perfected One of Three Peaks entering the Life-and-Death Realm and ascending to immortality saw to that.
In truth, Yakseon's martial art had taken as its goal not the descent of a god into the body, but the ascent of the self to the divine throne — and that art was none other than the Yakseon Heart Decision. That its endpoint was the Life-and-Death Realm was inevitable.
Singija's head dipped in a slow, heavy nod.
"One could see it that way, yes."
Only with that answer did Yeom Gi-ha laugh.
"So he might yet end up stronger than me."
"That is correct."
Only after Singija confirmed it did Yeom Gi-ha's gaze finally turn to me.
"Then hear my conditions."
Yeom Gi-ha held up a single finger.
"First: once you complete the Fifth Stage, you will spar with me whenever I please."
Then he raised a second.
"Second: when you reach the Sixth Stage, you will cross blades with me for the title of Number One Under Heaven."
"Hmm."
What surged from every inch of Yeom Gi-ha's body was best described as a ferocious hunger for battle. I felt as though I had caught a glimpse of the tale of how he had risen to become the finest under heaven. Come to think of it, the conditions cost me nothing — in truth, they meant Yeom Gi-ha intended to impart his teachings to me personally, so the word "successor" was no stretch at all.
"Done."
I accepted. Having received this much, it was only right that I make a declaration of my own — that much was a matter of basic human decency.
"I know where the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure is."
For the first time since meeting Singija, I opened my mouth not out of calculation but out of sincerity.
"With it, I will save the Alliance Leader's life."
And I would reach the Fifth Stage of the Yakseon Heart Decision.