Have You Ever Loved?
As Wi Ilcheong stepped out of Eun Yakbyeok’s private chambers, the Hao Sect Leader’s voice drifted to his ears.
“You’ve never loved anyone, have you, Young Master Wi.”
Those words brought his footsteps to a brief halt.
… Me?
He wanted to turn back and ask what she meant, but that would be admitting he had eavesdropped on her private musings. For a moment he hesitated.
Listening in on another’s words was not the act of a gentleman.
He considered claiming it had simply reached his ears by chance, yet in the end Wi Ilcheong decided to wrestle with the Hao Sect Leader’s remark on his own.
… Love.
Every woman who clung to him had always confessed the same thing: “I love you.”
But now, after hearing the Hao Sect Leader’s words, a tiny seed of doubt had sprouted in Wi Ilcheong’s heart.
Do I love every one of those women? No… what is love in the first place?
He wanted a more fundamental answer.
When he saw a beautiful woman his heart fluttered, and he devoted himself to her completely.
Was that not love?
By that logic the Hao Sect Leader was wrong.
Yet rather than any cool, refreshing sense of resolution, a heavy tightness filled his chest.
After turning the matter over and over, Wi Ilcheong finally stopped a passing Hao Sect disciple.
“Is there a good place nearby for quiet reflection?”
“Ah… try the manor grounds over that way. The pine trees there are quite fine.”
“Thank you.”
Following the disciple’s directions, he stepped out into the manor grounds. Just as promised, a magnificent pine of imposing presence stood there.
And beneath it, a young woman was swinging a sword.
… Miss Dokgo arrived ahead of me.
Come to think of it, the Hao Sect Leader seemed to have taught her a martial art.
She had probably come out at once to test her newly acquired technique. Not wishing to disturb her, Wi Ilcheong quietly watched from the side.
Then, unbidden, the question that had been dominating his thoughts rose again.
… Love.
Of every person he had ever met, if he had to name the most emotional, it would be Dokgo Ryeong.
Perhaps.
If it was Dokgo Ryeong…
Might she know something about love?
“Fuck… this is supposed to go like this, isn’t it…?”
Her training appeared finished, so Wi Ilcheong spoke lightly.
“What is, Miss?”
“Eek…!!”
Watching her still-violent reaction, Wi Ilcheong decided his choice had been correct.
After a brief scuffle that left a small cut on his hand, he realized he could use the wound as an excuse to ask her. He resolved to voice the question that troubled him.
“Miss Dokgo.”
“Y… yeah?”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Hweh?!”
Dokgo Ryeong’s hair flushed pink once more.
“W-what the hell is that all of a sudden…!”
“Well… would you mind listening to a small worry of mine for a moment?”
“Why the fuck should I?!”
“Ugh… my hand…”
Wi Ilcheong suddenly clutched the hand she had cut and flinched.
“You fucking kidding me?”
“…I apologize. Still, it does sting a little.”
“Shit.”
Dokgo Ryeong struggled to calm her still-pounding heart and spoke.
“What the fuck? Why are you suddenly putting on this pitiful act?”
“…Do I look that way?”
“A bastard called the Lust Demon saying he doesn’t know what ‘love’ is—it’s hilarious.”
“Haha… I suppose it is.”
“…”
Wi Ilcheong gave a hearty laugh, yet somehow it looked hollow.
“This bastard… so there really is something going on?”
“Someone who knows me well told me I have never loved.”
“And?”
“It left me somewhat confused. I believed I had been faithfully practicing the love I understood.”
“…And what’s that?”
“What else? The joy of clouds and rain, of course.”
“Eek!!”
Dokgo Ryeong’s hair turned pink again.
“…Miss. You used to spout vulgarities so freely, yet lately your emotions swing rather wildly?”
“Sh-shut up!!”
How could she possibly explain that the Hao Sect Leader had used the Bone Shrinking Art to take on Wi Ilcheong’s face and voice and then toyed with her?
Cornered for words, Dokgo Ryeong swung a kick to drive him off.
“If you’re gonna talk bullshit, get lost!”
“Understood. I shall say no more about the color of Miss Dokgo’s hair.”
“…Fucking bastard.”
“So then, Miss. Let us return to the original question. What do you believe love is?”
Seeing he would not leave until she answered, Dokgo Ryeong grew flustered.
Ah, fuck. Why is this bastard acting like this all of a sudden…
Having Wi Ilcheong put on the kind of pitiful act that only the Divine Doctor Unyeong usually pulled was enough to drive her mad.
In the end she decided to throw out any answer and be done with it. Scratching her head, she replied.
“You don’t even know that? You little brat?”
“Please share your insight with me.”
“Insight, my ass…. Just—fuck—when you go ‘Ah! I want to throw my life away to protect this person!’ that’s love.”
“Is that not simply compassion?”
“What?”
Wi Ilcheong drew his sword and began writing characters on the ground as he spoke.
“Are these not the four innate natures of man of which Mencius spoke? Compassion, shame, deference, and the sense of right and wrong. There are many righteous people in the world who feel pity for those in hardship and wish to act to help them. That falls short of being called love.”
“…”
She had only meant to brush him off roughly, but when he seriously refuted her words, a flicker of irritation rose in Dokgo Ryeong as well.
“…Fuck. Is it the same? That’s someone in trouble.”
“How is it different?”
“For example… uh…. Right. Do you only want to save Dunchi when Dunchi’s in trouble?”
“Yes.”
“E… eh?”
The unexpected answer left Dokgo Ryeong flustered.
“…And normally?”
“If she is in difficulty she will ask me for help. Helping her before that would rather be an insult to Miss Baekri, would it not?”
“…This guy’s a fucking lunatic.”
“Pardon?”
“Hey, you bastard. How can a person live always asking for help?”
“…So am I supposed to carry Miss Baekri around on my back the entire time without being asked?”
“No, fuck! Why is the conversation going there?!”
Dokgo Ryeong clutched her head in frustration.
“Just—fuck—if you go ‘Whoa, I’d be screwed without this bastard!’ isn’t that love?!”
“…Is there such a person?”
“Don’t you love your own father?”
“No.”
When Wi Ilcheong answered calmly, Dokgo Ryeong’s eyes lowered.
“…Sorry.”
“It is fine. It is nothing of consequence.”
“No… you fucking bastard. You’re making this ridiculously hard to talk about.”
“Can you not simply answer that love is ‘exactly this’?”
“Aargh, fuck! How the hell am I supposed to know that?! You have to have done it to know, fuck.”
“…You have never done so?”
When Wi Ilcheong’s mouth fell open in surprise, Dokgo Ryeong’s irritation climbed even higher at the sight.
“You fucking bastard. I answered you sincerely when you asked, and now you’re making that shitty face?”
“…I apologize. More than that, please mind your language a little…”
“Shut up, you idiot. Anyway, if you’re done with the bullshit, get lost. I want to be alone.”
“Haa… very well. It seems this is not a question with an easy answer.”
“Instead of me, why don’t you go ask Dunchi or the Hao Sect.”
“I shall do so. Then…”
Just as Wi Ilcheong turned to re-enter the pavilion, someone came running out.
“Wi Oppa~!! Miss Dokgo is with you too~ What a relief~!”
“…Is something the matter?”
“We have to hide, quick!”
“Pardon?”
“The Huangbo Clan has come looking~! Hurry!”
“Why would that…?”
“The Hebei Paeng Clan came with them too~!”
“…”
At those words Wi Ilcheong looked at Dokgo Ryeong.
Her face had gone deathly pale.
“…Ha, fuck.”
The Mad Demon Dokgo Jin got along poorly with most of the martial world, and more than seven-tenths of those were of the orthodox factions.
He had almost never even had the chance to meet the Demonic Cult; the sole exception was the one time some woman claiming to be the head of their information network came spouting nonsense about joining them, and he had driven her off. Aside from that, he had spent most of his life thrashing martial artists of both the orthodox and unorthodox paths.
Yet martial artists were a truly perverted breed. Even after being beaten, some of the mad bastards would grin and bow their heads saying, “Thank you for the lesson.”
If the man who said such words in a decent fashion was the current Wulin Alliance Leader Namgung Jin, then the man who said them in the most disgusting way imaginable was the head of the Hebei Paeng Clan, Paeng Yudeok.
If the Mad Demon Dokgo Jin could ever transfer his title to another, the first person he would name would be Paeng Yudeok.
That lunatic followed Dokgo Jin wherever he went and clung with sticky persistence.
Just once. Just fight me once.
“Kwahaha! Dokgo Jin! Come duel me to the death!”
“…You again? Fuck, I’m in the middle of a bath.”
“Doesn’t matter! Today once more! Let us dance with our blades!!”
“Haa… you disgusting bastard. How the hell did you even find this place?”
“Did you not come to thrash the Tang Clan! I know full well that you harbor some inexplicable hatred for them.”
Grind.
Hearing the name of the Tang Clan spoken so boldly right in front of him, Dokgo Jin ground his teeth.
Without even bothering to put on clothes, he snatched up the Demon-Cleaving Saber he had left beside the tub. Paeng Yudeok grinned savagely.
Looking at that face, Dokgo Jin spat,
“…You’re not walking away clean today.”
“Of course not! I have no such intention! I only hope today might become my death anniversary!”
“You crazy bastard!!”
Out of sheer annoyance he had long wanted to kill the man, yet the thing that drove Dokgo Jin even madder was that Paeng Yudeok’s skill was outstanding.
“You’ve improved since last time, my friend!”
“Just… die already!!”
“A fine strike!”
He was strong enough to deserve the title of head of one of the Five Great Clans, and there were even times when it felt as though he was holding back a little.
When they first met he had been called the Blade Venerable, but after crossing blades with Dokgo Jin he had somehow come to be called the Blade Immortal.
An absolute master ranked among the top ten of the martial world.
That was Paeng Yudeok.
“…Ha, fuck.”
As Dokgo Ryeong recalled those days, her face went white.
No, fuck. How the hell did that leech bastard find out about this place and come here?
The truly shitty thing about Paeng Yudeok was that he paid not the slightest attention to anyone else’s circumstances.
He would find you somehow,
demand a match no matter what,
and only after thoroughly exhausting a person would he leave with a satisfied smile all by himself.
He was far too strong to kill out of irritation,
yet the gains from every fight were far too great to refuse the challenge.
Dokgo Ryeong let out a sigh and sank to the ground. Seeing her, Wi Ilcheong asked,
“…Are you also on bad terms with the Paeng Clan?”
“Fine… it’s okay…. But fuck, I hate them.”
“…Pardon?”
“Those crazy bastards are all completely insane about the ‘saber.’ In my opinion those lunatics would even go easy on a mortal enemy if he was a saber user.”
“Th-that… why is that a problem? If martial artists exchange techniques with one another…”
“No, fuck! There’s a limit!!”
Dokgo Ryeong shot to her feet and shouted.
“Those crazy bastards show up whenever the hell they feel like it—whether a person’s taking a shit or sleeping—and ask ‘Do you know the saber?’ and if you’re a saber user they go ‘Perfect!’ and start swinging right away, you know?! The fucking bastards have ridiculous stamina so they make you fight for days on end, and then at the end they leave with a refreshing smile all by themselves, which pisses a person off even more!!”
“…A Paeng Clan tradition, then. The Hundred-Man Sparring Journey.”
“They’re fucking lunatics. You mustn’t get involved with them. Let’s leave right now.”
With a thoroughly sickened face, Dokgo Ryeong looked at Eun Gwanyeong.
“Hey, Hao Sect. There’s a secret passage or something here, right?”
“Yes~. I’ll guide you that way right away.”
“Good, hurry and run—”
Rumble!
Thunder cracked across the clear sky. Dokgo Ryeong broke out in a cold sweat.
“…Hao Sect.”
“Yes~…”
“…Did the Huangbo Clan head come too?”
“…Yes~.”
“Fuck.”
The moment the word left her mouth, lightning crashed down from the heavens.
“Khuk…!”
Fierce thunder-qi raced across the empty manor grounds, and from within the lightning a giant of a man strode forth.
“Heheh… so you were all here.”
“Thunderclap Fist Venerable…”
At the same time a great noise erupted from the pavilion, and a familiar voice burst out.
“Kwahahaha! Where is Dokgo Jin?! And the daughter?!!”
“…Unfettered Blade Immortal.”
And last of all, Eun Yakbyeok appeared with her seven-stringed zither.
“Have you all gone mad?”
“Kwahaha! Don’t be angry, Sound Venerable! I’ll settle every account!”
“Heheh… this old man has done nothing wrong, has he?”
When Eun Yakbyeok openly displayed her irritation, Dokgo Ryeong’s throat went bone-dry.
Then Paeng Yudeok looked toward Dokgo Ryeong and her companions and spoke.
“So… who is Dokgo Jin’s daughter?”