The Dragon's Mortal Companion
The news that Tae-geon of the Un-hae Sect had become involved in the Mugeuk Jizon’s project to create a new martial art soon spread to everyone who needed to know. From the beginning, they had made no particular effort to conceal their movements when they first visited the Geumryeon Manor.
Because of this, the great sects and prestigious families who still had unfinished business with the Mugeuk Jizon visited the Geumryeon Manor without much hesitation. They all brought individuals who possessed at least some talent for martial creation.
Thanks to them, Han Yujin was able to examine nearly all of the rare divine sense secret techniques that existed in the murim world. Yet none of them surpassed the Six Paths of Reincarnation; they merely awakened the barest hint of divine sense and barely granted the minimum capacity for offense and defense.
The act of awakening divine sense itself felt extraordinarily difficult, so he could not help but feel deeply unsatisfied.
Still, since he lost nothing regardless of the outcome, he gladly allowed those who offered proper compensation to join the work.
Simply filtering out the incompetent ones so easily was reward enough. Anyone who presented objectively valuable compensation must have possessed both the ability and the confidence to match it.
And so time flowed on like a great river.
When roughly ten years had passed, the emperor died of old age, stirring up all manner of repercussions. Most were political struggles within the imperial family, but none of it concerned Han Yujin in the slightest.
More than the emperor’s death, he felt the passing of the many old masters whose names and titles he had naturally come to know during his time in this world far more deeply.
He also witnessed the natural changing of generations as young rising stars made their names known. It was a visceral lesson in how the rivers and lakes of murim had always existed.
When another ten years had flowed by, the martial art based on Wonryeok Sim-gong was finally completed: Wonryeok Mudo, the Origin Power Martial Arts.
Divided into introductory and mastery volumes for smooth dissemination on Earth, the system began with the fundamental energy-sensing and manipulation method, progressed to the Origin Heart Technique that could generate and control origin power to nourish the self, incorporated bare-handed combat as well as weapon techniques for the sword, saber, spear, staff, hammer, and more, and included every possible footwork, movement art, and lightness skill used to control distance, evade danger, or display mobility in battle.
Useful auxiliary techniques such as sound transmission and breath retention were also recorded, adding considerable practicality.
It would be difficult to call this the strongest martial art.
Especially if one excluded the Origin Heart Technique. In truth, even that portion could not be said to hold an absolute advantage now that Wonryeok Sim-gong had already been distributed throughout the murim world.
Yet it can be the optimal martial art. Especially in a world like Earth, which previously lacked any martial tradition whatsoever.
It was, in essence, the distilled essence of this world’s kangho murim, condensed in the manner best suited to Earth.
At last, one of the great undertakings required to gather Karma had been completed.
Tae-geon of the Un-hae Sect and the others who had assisted Han Yujin in creating the martial art over those many years bid him farewell with deep satisfaction. They too had grown considerably by discovering the true value of Wonryeok Mudo in their own ways.
In the meantime, Dok Junseong had already achieved the minimum requirement for advancing to the Dharma Soul stage—a forty percent Dharma Soul sublimation rate—and was now striving for even greater attainment.
“Ambition is good, but beware your age. The moment you feel the slightest decline in body, soul, or spirit, you must not delay any longer.”
“Yes, Master.”
While looking after that disciple, Han Yujin also cared for his other disciple, Seogwang Gahu.
Several years earlier, Gahu had smoothly entered the Hwa-gyeong realm. He continued to grow at a visible rate and was already being called the next of the Ten Great Masters of Murim. His twin children had become fine young men, both walking the path of martial artists in their father’s footsteps.
They bore the names Seogwang Yuseong and Seogwang Byeokun. To them, Han Yujin was their Shifu.
They had been warmly affectionate as children, yet as they grew older and meetings became rarer, he sensed them becoming more reserved. He found it rather amusing that this left him slightly disappointed.
Five years later, Dok Junseong successfully broke through to the Dharma Soul stage and earned the right to be called a true practitioner.
Han Yujin presented him with the Ohaeng Sword he had only lent before as a complete gift, offered his congratulations, and invested a great deal of time to teach him many things.
Dok Junseong was moved to tears by the realization that he could continue receiving such boundless instruction even after reaching the Dharma Soul stage. At the same time, he once again felt a profound and deep respect for Han Yujin, who was capable of imparting it.
At that time, Eun Miryeong had only managed to raise her Dharma Soul sublimation rate to a little over ten percent.
Another ten years drifted by in leisurely fashion.
Finally, the second stage of Dragon Heart refinement—the refinement of the extraordinary meridians—was completed.
No new divine ability had manifested, yet his Dharma Power had already achieved liquefaction and was entering the solidification phase, making him a clear late-stage Dharma Soul practitioner.
The quality of that solidified Dharma Power itself was so superior that it defied comparison with other Dharma Soul stage practitioners. It made him naturally curious just how far it would advance once he finally completed the Dragon Heart External Elixir Method.
Truly, the passage of time felt merciless. By then, there were few murim masters older than Han Yujin. Moreover, he came to a fresh realization.
I have lived longer in this world than I have on Earth.
He had never forgotten for a single moment that this was a world he visited through his awakening ability, yet in certain ways it felt more like home than Earth ever had.
As a side note, even within the transience of time there was something amusing: the gradual change in Okhan City’s name.
Simply by residing there, the city had at some point begun to be called Mugeuk City. The original name was still used interchangeably, but he suspected that in another ten or twenty years it would solidify completely as Mugeuk City, perhaps even changing the administrative designation.
At the same time, as the area came to be regarded as a sacred training ground, more and more martial artists settled there, and the city’s scale naturally expanded bit by bit.
The Geumryeon Manor had likewise been called Mugeuk Manor for more than ten years now. The plaque itself had only been replaced a few years ago.
And so another ten years passed in the blink of an eye.
Eun Miryeong’s appearance had aged noticeably. Matching the changes in her features, Han Yujin used the Monghwan Yusim divine ability to adjust his own appearance accordingly.
Only Mu-yong remained exactly as she had looked when she first set foot in this world.
Among external events, a great battle had broken out between the Jeongdo Alliance and the Sado Alliance. It would not be an exaggeration to call it a war, yet its ripples barely reached the Okhan—no, the Mugeuk City region.
As countless martial artists who wished to avoid the conflict gathered there, Mugeuk City truly became a universally acknowledged sacred ground for cultivation.
Naturally, this led to a small incident: while Han Yujin was still alive, he came to be treated as an almost legendary figure, and shrines were erected in his honor in certain places.
Had he not personally stepped forward to stop it, there was no telling how far that unintended trend might have spread.
The absurd event in which a princess from the imperial family visited and asked him to become her royal son-in-law was hardly worth discussing.
It took roughly seven years for the full repercussions of the war between the two alliances to subside completely.
Around that time, the demonic forces—greatly diminished after the collapse of the Dark Shadow Cult—began to stir once more and assert a clear presence.
Despite surely knowing that Han Yujin still lived, whether out of courage or foolishness, a group calling itself the Blood Lotus Cult and claiming to be the legitimate successors of the Dark Shadow Cult rose to prominence.
Upon investigation, it proved to be an organization founded by the second young master of the former Dark Shadow Cult, who had sown the seeds long ago.
The second young master… wasn’t that the one?
Han Yujin suddenly recalled that when he had first arrived in this world, the Emma Goju who had come to capture Seogwang Gahu and Eun Miryeong had mentioned the second young master. He had said that the Black Blood Witch had marked Gahu, while the second young master had chosen Eun Miryeong.
After pondering the matter lightly for a few days, Han Yujin moved just as lightly, heading for the Gangdong region where the Blood Lotus Cult had established itself.
Thus, the self-proclaimed legitimate successor of the Dark Shadow Cult that had seemed poised to usher in a new demonic era collapsed in an almost comical fashion.
Had they simply shown basic courtesy to Han Yujin when he arrived in person, such a catastrophe would never have occurred. But amusingly, too much time had passed.
Everyone now treated him as a legendary existence, so even his past feats had come to be regarded as half-legendary.
In truth, it was perfectly reasonable. Hadn’t more than fifty years gone by?
Ten years can change mountains and rivers, but fifty years is half a century. In a world without video records or similar evidence, it was perhaps only natural that those who considered themselves rational would doubt the power of the Mugeuk Jizon.
For that very reason, it was proven once again.
The entire kangho murim trembled as if an entirely new and unfamiliar supreme master had appeared.
Almost every faction visited the Mugeuk Manor anew to pay their respects, and the Ten Great Masters of Murim came one after another to show proper deference to the “Jizon.”
There was even a rumor that the emperor himself had attempted to visit but was desperately blocked by every high and low official in the imperial court. In his place, the crown prince came, greeted Han Yujin with extreme humility, and departed.
It was an event that once more accelerated the growth of Mugeuk City, already regarded as a sacred ground.
By then Dok Junseong had taken a beautiful woman as his wife, and Seogwang Gahu’s grandchildren had grown up, with the old master on the verge of seeing great-grandchildren.
For Han Yujin personally, it was a period of steady, faithful days in which the final body-tempering stage of the Dragon Heart refinement progressed slowly but smoothly.
Thus another ten years passed.
And then yet another ten years.
Time continued to flow, transient and indifferent.
At some point, Eun Miryeong could no longer rise from her bed on her own.
Inside a neat and quiet bedroom, Han Yujin gently held the hand of Eun Miryeong as she lay on the bed, breathing in shallow gasps. Both of them now possessed the wrinkled hands of old people.
Despite her dimming eyesight, Eun Miryeong gazed at the husband who had remained by her side for so many long years and smiled with gentle warmth.
“Bugun.”
It was a title she had begun using instead of “Sanggong” roughly thirty or forty years earlier. Perhaps the change in her aging appearance had called for a change in address as well.
“Speak. I am always here beside you.”
“I am only telling you this now…”
With those words, the smile on Eun Miryeong’s face dimmed slightly.
“I truly feel I have wronged you, Bugun.”
“What could you possibly have to feel sorry for? I don’t understand.”
“For not being able to give you children… For being inadequate and leaving you lonely all by yourself. I sometimes thought that.”
“Not at all. I have told you so many times already.”
A conversation that had become routine, yet was hardly the sort of thing one discussed in daily life, passed between them.
Then, as if in passing, Han Yujin asked, “Do you believe in reincarnation?”
“You mean the world after death?”
“No. The next life one is born into.”
“If something like that exists… it would be wonderful beyond words to meet someone like you again.”
Smiling faintly, he patted her hand and continued.
“In truth, I do not know whether the afterlife exists. However, there is no rule saying we must meet only in the next life.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I could return to the moment we first met, what would you think?”
Silence fell for a moment.
Then Eun Miryeong spoke of something else.
“Do you know why I fell in love with you, Bugun?”
“Hmm…”
He shook his head even though he had an inkling.
“It was partly because you saved my life, but the mercy you showed Gahu that day was decisive. I thought that a person with such a broad heart would bring me nothing but joy and happiness. Fortunately, my judgment proved entirely correct.”
She smiled once more.
“I must have been the happiest woman in all the rivers and lakes. Even though I could not bear children.”
Jjik! Jjik!
From the side, Mu-yong let out soft cries. Hearing them, Eun Miryeong’s smile deepened.
“Yes… perhaps it was possible because I had Baek-neung.”
The girl was still wearing the clothes Eun Miryeong had made for her. She looked extremely worried and downcast, as though she understood exactly what was happening.
Eun Miryeong seemed to want to stroke her, but only managed it with difficulty after Han Yujin sensed the motion and helped guide her hand.
“It is truly fortunate. Because Baek-neung will always be by your side, Bugun.”
“…You still haven’t answered my question.”
“I am already more than satisfied with this life—indeed, it is more than I deserve. I do not wish to become a burden to you any longer.”
Eun Miryeong spoke gently. Han Yujin closed his eyes. Her words continued.
“Even if you return to that time and meet me again… I was so happy that I wonder whether it could possibly be this good a second time.”
“Do you not wish to see other worlds? A world completely different from these rivers and lakes of murim.”
“I see you can be quite persistent.”
It was a faint, smiling rebuke.
“To say such things… I already knew it, but you truly are a sage, Bugun.”
“I am still far from deserving that title.”
“But someday… someday you will become a true immortal who attains eternal life. Can you even imagine how many long years you will spend growing to that point?”
She paused briefly, then spoke with firm resolve despite her frailty.
“Even if you prepare some means to do so, that would be a burden. Watching from the side without being able to help in any way would be another burden. And occupying the place that should belong to the better women you will meet in the future would be yet another burden.”
“Do not say such things. You know how much I love and cherish you.”
“I meant that I would feel that way. At my age, could I not foresee at least that much?”
Han Yujin barely suppressed the sigh rising in his throat.
“You stayed with an inadequate woman like me for such a long time, showing me more affection than anyone could possibly deserve. I… am truly, completely satisfied.”
As if suddenly tired, she slowly closed her eyes.
“It is only a little regrettable… that I can no longer make clothes for Sanggong… for Baek-neung…”
A short while later, her ragged breathing grew slow and regular. Even conversation had become too difficult; she had fallen asleep.
Han Yujin remained at her side, stroking her hand, brushing back her snow-white hair, and straightening her blankets.
And so, before even two days had passed, while he continued to watch over her, Eun Miryeong quietly breathed her last.
The funeral was not extravagant, yet every necessary formality was observed and it was conducted with solemn dignity.
While greeting the mourners, Han Yujin revealed not the slightest trace of discomposure. Strangely, however, everyone who met his gaze felt a deep sense of condolence and naturally offered their respects with even greater sincerity.
After the funeral that had lasted several days finally concluded, he was organizing her belongings with Mu-yong in Eun Miryeong’s room when he suddenly realized she had left him a gift without saying a word.
It was a rather large box.
When he carefully opened it, he found it filled with various clothes tailored specifically for him, along with many outfits for Mu-yong.
In addition, for reasons he could not immediately fathom, there were a great many garments ranging from those for a small child to those for a young woman on the cusp of adulthood. They were all women’s clothes, and he immediately guessed who they were meant for.
They were clearly garments prepared for when Mu-yong underwent her humanoid transformation.
With slightly trembling hands he stroked the clothes, then unfolded the letter placed to one side of the box. He read it quietly, tears falling, and closed his eyes.
He remained motionless like that for a long time.