Beloved Hometown (1)
Unlike when I first arrived, I carried far more baggage this time. The single sword I once possessed had become a rare trio of blades strapped to my waist, and tucked inside my robes were those spiritual pills that could never be allowed to see the light of day.
“Hoo…”
Extreme Sword Dragon. That was the title they gave me. It sounded embarrassingly grandiose, but when I thought about it, Paecheon Divine Lord was even worse, so I let it slide. In any case, I was a Dragon now. I had become someone who could no longer step away from the currents of the righteous faction’s murim world. The feeling was both relieving and strangely unsettling.
Whatever my inner thoughts, I gathered myself, picked up my things, and left the room. It was time to go back.
The sun hung high in the sky. The physicians had insisted on checking my wounds one more time, which delayed my departure beyond what I’d planned. I quickened my steps, passed through the mountain gate, and was about to descend Mount Song when a voice called out beside me.
“That’s a fine sword I haven’t seen before.”
It was Dokryong. Unlike Gwiryong, I had only brushed past him a few times during the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, but this was our first proper meeting.
“I received it as a gift,” I said, lightly tapping Mukrin’s hilt. Dokryong let out a short laugh.
“Already captivating the hearts of countless women, I see. I’d love to learn that particular skill.”
He grinned for a moment, then wiped the smile from his face and extended his hand. When I took it, he offered his congratulations.
“Congratulations.”
Then he held out his other hand. I stared at him blankly, wondering what this was about. Dokryong, apparently finding the situation amusing himself, spoke with the smile still lingering on his lips.
“Mujin was dragged back home by his family. You know how he is—always wandering. This is on his behalf.”
If I shook his hand now, would Dokryong later pass the gesture on by shaking hands with Gwiryong? The thought struck me as genuinely funny.
“Are you planning to return to the Namgung clan?” he asked.
I thought for a moment before shaking my head. “Not right away.”
His face brightened. “Then how about stopping by the Tang clan for a while? I’ll treat you properly.”
It was a tempting offer, but I politely declined this one as well. I already had a destination in mind.
“I’ve already marked another place to visit.”
A place I knew I had to return to someday.
“Where are you headed?”
I adjusted the heavy sword at my waist once more and answered, “My beloved hometown.”
More precisely, I was going to find the beloved person who lived there.
“Seriously, why are there so many damn mountains…”
I had already lost count of how many I had crossed. After several more days of walking, I passed through Henan and finally reached Hapbi. Perhaps the steps home were lighter than the steps away; even with more luggage, I arrived faster than I had on my way to Henan. Or maybe it was simply because I had taken a much longer route before. With that thought, I continued climbing toward the mountain’s peak.
At last I reached the summit of the final mountain.
“There it is.”
Looking down from the ridge, I could see Namhyangchon far below—so small it could be covered by the palm of my hand. Last time I had sent someone ahead to pack what they could, but there might still be things left behind. I would have to make time to come back for them later.
But that wasn’t my purpose today, so instead of descending the ridge, I took the side path. The opposite side of the mountain had felt unfamiliar before because I rarely walked it, but now it was a path I knew well. Familiarity let me move faster. My steps, carrying a touch of excitement and anticipation, were so light and cheerful that even a thousand pounds of weight would not have slowed them.
“Haa…”
The place I reached after considerable effort was a single house so worn it was difficult to tell whether it was a home or a ruin. This was the place I had traveled to and from for eight years, the place where I had spent the past month. I had always meant to set aside a day to repair it, but in the end I had left without doing so.
I deliberately tempered my soaring steps and approached slowly.
“Is anyone there?” I called toward the door.
There was no answer.
Wondering if my voice had been too soft, I called again, louder. “Is anyone there?”
Still no reply. A chill ran down my spine, and anxiety began to creep over me.
Throwing courtesy aside, I stepped inside. It was just past noon, but the surrounding trees blocked the light and the house faced an unfavorable direction, so the interior was dim. When I strengthened my eyesight, however, everything became clear. Master’s old black sword hung on the wall. The bedding he used was neatly folded and stacked in the corner of one wall. There were no signs of recent use. It looked as though the house had been empty for quite a long time.
Had he left?
I didn’t know. In my previous life, Master had never left this place until the day he died. Because of that, I had complacently assumed he would remain here forever. But changes had come to this place as well—large or small depending on how you looked at them. The change was my own existence, or more precisely, the absence of his disciple.
In this life, Master had not formally accepted me as his disciple, and I had left after only a brief greeting. In other words, he had no responsibility or obligation to stay here.
Yes. If he had left, that was for the best.
But what if the flap of a butterfly’s wings had created a great storm somewhere, and Master’s death had been moved forward?
No. I forcefully denied the thought. Master was a Super Peak martial artist. This region lay between territories and was severely underdeveloped; even finding a Peak expert here was difficult. It was not an environment where a Super Peak master could be killed easily.
“…Huh?”
Wait. Then in my previous life, who had…
Before the thought could continue, my thoughts shattered at the sound of the voice I had been waiting for.
“Is that you, Sowoon?”
With steady footsteps, Master approached from behind. He still wore the same faded dark robe, hands clasped behind his back. I was relieved. He looked completely unharmed, without so much as a scratch, and did not appear to have left.
I turned at once and bowed deeply, offering the greeting I had not been able to give for so long.
“Have you been well, Master?”
Master stroked his beard and let out a hearty laugh. At the same time, he reached out and patted my head.
“Master, you say… Yes. You’ve grown so much.”
He lowered his hand from my head and walked into the house, then waved me inside.
“When you said you were taking your mother to the Namgung clan, I was simply surprised. It seems you’ve grown as much as the wide world you’ve seen.”
We sat on the wooden porch. As always, the inner room was too narrow for two people. Master brought two cups of water from inside and handed one to me.
“How have you been all this time?”
I accepted it gratefully, drank it down in one gulp, and answered his question carefully.
“First, I went to the Namgung clan and built connections with many people there.”
“Sometimes I welcomed visitors from other clans and spoke with them.”
“Not long ago, I participated in the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering and became a Dragon.”
“I needed a sect name, so I wrote down Pacheon Sword Gate. Was that all right?”
At that, Master remained silent for a moment before smiling with understanding.
“Dragon and Phoenix… so that custom still remains.”
It used to, but it has changed now. He muttered the words softly, then looked at me and asked, “There was no Phoenix, I take it. What kind of Dragon were you?”
“Extreme Sword.”
“The extreme of the sword. Excellent.”
Master, who had fallen briefly into thought, stood up again and went into the room. He returned carrying the old sword he had always cherished.
“Isn’t it shabby?”
He turned the sword sideways and spoke once more. “This is the sword I once pursued.”
Even as empty flattery, I could not call it fine. The damaged edge bore the scars of countless fierce battles; the rusted blade showed the marks of long neglect.
“Make sure it doesn’t end up like this.”
Of course I would. With those words, Master returned the sword to its original place. I watched him silently, then asked,
“Master.”
“Won’t you come with me?”
The situation was different from a year ago. Back then I had no intention of staying there long-term, and no matter how much I called him Master, I was not in a position to boldly demand extra space for someone who was neither clan member nor family. But things had changed. The gold I had accumulated alone was considerable, and if I invoked the name of a Dragon within the Alliance, more funds would follow. With that amount, I could easily prepare a residence where several people could live comfortably.
Master had never been the type to mingle with the villagers. It had been that way in my previous life, and it seemed unchanged now. More than anything, I wanted to keep him close and ensure his safety.
“It’s fine.”
But Master refused. Just as I was about to press him again, he continued.
“I still have reasons to remain here.”
He was looking at the sky with a heavy tone. I could not bring myself to urge him further.
“…Still, if the day comes when it is possible, may I come find you?”
I did not know whether that was a positive sign. So I simply nodded and answered,
“I’ll be waiting.”