Farewell to the Rivers and Lakes
There were still a few matters left to settle in this Jianghu of the Cheon-un Cheonju.
First among them was the matter concerning Seogwang Gahu, who was roughly the same age as Eun Miryeong and whose lifespan would therefore be similar.
He had already reached the Transcendent Realm more than ten years ago, but unfortunately had never broken through to the Life-and-Death Realm. Still, attaining that level would not have granted him any special extension of health, so looking back now, it was an entirely unimportant detail.
When Han Yujin visited the Seogwang Clan, Seogwang Gahu was already on his deathbed.
Because he had stopped maintaining the appearance of an old man and returned to his original youthful form, no one recognized him. To enter the inner quarters, Han Yujin had to subtly employ the Dream Illusion Mind Snatching Art to send word to Seogwang Gahu.
A short while later, a young clansman came rushing out. Though clearly puzzled, he guided Han Yujin inside with polite deference.
Seogwang Gahu was not alone. Even though he lay bedridden, barely able to move as the eldest of the clan, he was receiving many visitors. It was fortunate the bedroom was spacious; otherwise the crowd would have been overwhelming.
The moment Han Yujin entered under the young man’s guidance, the eyes of more than ten people turned toward him. Their expressions clearly asked who this person was to receive an invitation at such a critical time.
“Heh heh heh…!”
At that exact moment, Seogwang Gahu caught sight of Han Yujin. Despite his frail condition, he smiled like a child and beamed with joy.
“You have come, Master.”
“I have.”
“Please forgive this disciple for being unable to attend Madam’s funeral rites.”
“Forgive you? There is no need… Given your current condition, it was only natural that you could not come. Do not concern yourself with it.”
“Are you planning to leave soon?”
His insight carried a weight entirely different from his younger days. While Han Yujin silently nodded, the people around them—who had now realized his identity through their exchange—fell into a quiet uproar.
Seogwang Gahu’s twin sons, Seogwang Yuseong and Seogwang Byeokun, already looked like old men. Their own sons had reached middle age, and even their grandsons were fully grown adults.
Since Han Yujin was the master of Seogwang Yuseong and Seogwang Byeokun, he was naturally their ancestor’s master—the founding patriarch of their lineage. In truth, there was not a single descendant among them who had not visited Mugeuk Manor to meet the Mugeuk Supreme at least once.
However.
The only ones who had ever seen Han Yujin’s youthful appearance in person were Seogwang Yuseong and Seogwang Byeokun, and even then, only when they had been children.
As the reality of the situation sank in, their expressions shifted from shock to pure astonishment.
The fact that the Mugeuk Supreme had regained a youth no different from a young man was an event momentous enough to overturn the entire Jianghu.
Yet what followed was even more shocking.
Seogwang Gahu smiled again like a child and said,
“In truth, I have told many people that my master is not merely a martial artist, but an immortal sage. No one ever believed me… but now, everyone will finally understand that my words were never empty boasts.”
“I am not an immortal. Merely a cultivator who aspires to become one. Still, since it seems to please you, I will not bother correcting the rumors no matter how wildly they spread.”
Seogwang Gahu laughed once more, then suddenly coughed several times. The coughs were not particularly violent, yet they carried the unmistakable frailty of a man whose allotted time was nearly spent.
“Master… from the day you saved me again and again until now, I have always, always… been so very grateful. I cannot possibly express this gratitude in words.”
His tone, so different from the laughter of moments before, sounded as if he might burst into tears at any second. For a brief moment, Han Yujin could not help remembering the time when the man had prostrated himself and wept.
“I, too, have always been grateful for your help. That is why I wish to make your heart even a little lighter.”
As he spoke, Han Yujin took out several books.
They were the very texts on the restoration techniques and basic mystical arts that Seogwang Gahu had chosen not to learn back when he had been offered a selection of teachings.
“Consider these my parting gift. Do with them as you wish; I will not interfere. You may leave them in the clan or take them to your grave. The choice is yours.”
“Thank you, Master…”
In the end, Seogwang Gahu shed tears once more.
Unwilling to watch his aged and frail disciple cry, Han Yujin quickly changed the subject. Laughter soon returned. The content of their conversation was not particularly important; it was simply a sharing of memories and hearts.
He did not linger too long.
Seogwang Gahu had many family members, and it was only right that his final moments be spent with them.
As Han Yujin left the room, a great many people followed to see him off.
After exchanging proper farewells with all those connected to him—including Seogwang Yuseong and Seogwang Byeokun—he vanished in an instant like drifting clouds, leaving everyone stunned.
He had done so entirely because he knew it would delight Seogwang Gahu.
The next person he visited was Dok Junseong.
In truth, since they both resided in Mugeuk Manor within Mugeuk City, they had already shared many conversations. There was no need for a lengthy farewell.
In this world of thin spiritual energy, Dok Junseong seemed to have already reached his limit, but Han Yujin had long ago gifted him the Taiji Returning Origin Art, which allowed cultivation all the way to the Nascent Soul Stage, along with various insights gained from personal practice.
“May I ask one final favor?”
“Anything at all, Master. Please command me.”
“For about a year, I would like no one to approach my wife’s grave. And… I hope her grave can remain undisturbed for as long as possible.”
“This disciple will absolutely carry out your command.”
Surprisingly, the usually stoic Dok Junseong shed a few quiet tears. He then bowed with utmost respect.
“I will never forget the immense grace you have shown me. I will strive so that your footsteps remain forever in this Jianghu. Please, I pray you find peace… and that you achieve the path of eternal life.”
It was a farewell that tightened the chest.
And so.
After bidding farewell to all those with whom he shared deep karmic ties, Han Yujin headed toward the grave of Eun Miryeong, prepared in the deepest part of the manor.
It was time to organize his heart and prepare to bring his time in this world to a close.
He personally installed a formation that would preserve the grave for as long as possible, and completed the final Body Refining stage of the Dragon Heart—the last step that had remained.
How exactly his constitution had changed could be examined later, once he reached the Critical Decision stage. His realm had already reached the extreme limit of the late Dharma Soul stage, after all.
He had, of course, already overcome the Heartless Tribulation as well.
The Heartless Tribulation was undoubtedly a great calamity and trial for any cultivator. Yet the reward for successfully overcoming it was equally clear.
As always, fortune and misfortune were two sides of the same coin, and crisis was simply opportunity in disguise.
From now on, the flow of time would no longer be able to shatter his heart.
The Jianghu of the Cheon-un Cheonju.
The moment to conclude his time in this world had finally arrived.
He decided to stay one more day. Sitting near the grave, he closed his eyes. For the first time in a long while, he fell into a deep sleep and dreamed a dream that felt both very short and endlessly long.
It was a dream of Eun Miryeong in her youth—beautiful, lovely, blushing as she presented him with the clothes she had made for him beneath a sunset sky.
When he awoke, the sky happened to be dyed in that exact same beautiful sunset hue.
“…It is time to go, Mu-yong.”
The little one, who had already sensed that this was truly the end, was shedding tears as large as chicken droppings on top of Eun Miryeong’s grave. Han Yujin lifted her into his arms, gently patting and stroking her as he spoke.
“Didn’t it say so in the letter? While reminiscing about our memories, please do not drown in grief. She asked that you be happy instead—only then could she be at peace.”
Jjik! Jjik…!
After soothing her a little longer and tidying the surroundings, he moved slowly and activated the Earth Concealment Art.
Right beside Eun Miryeong’s grave—in the spot where he would have been buried with her had he died in this world—he created a coffin using the Phantom Concealment Art. At the same time, he wove a simple formation around it so that it would not be detected by modern means.
I still do not know whether this world will vanish like a dream after I leave, or whether it will simply become unreachable and continue on its own.
That was precisely why he acted this way.
If he simply left using an escape technique beside the grave, and if this world continued to exist, then when Dok Junseong later came to tend the grave, would he not discover both his and Mu-yong’s corpses?
He did not wish to leave Eun Miryeong’s side, nor did he want to disappoint the disciple who had prayed for his master’s eternal life. This was the best measure that would leave behind not even the slightest regret.
Lying down in the spot he had prepared, he cast the technique upon both himself and Mu-yong at the same time.
It had been a very long time.
The sensation of the world sinking into darkness washed over him.
You have died.
The mystically floating silver letters felt both familiar and strangely alien.
Select your harvest.
A dark yet cozy waiting space.
Regaining his senses, he silently began selecting his harvest. Because he had spent such an extraordinarily long time there, the options were mountainous. Yet among them, the things he absolutely had to take were surprisingly few.
The greatest amount of Karma was consumed in selecting the achievements from Dragon Heart refinement and the cultivation results of the late Dharma Soul stage pushed to its absolute limit.
It was a relief that selecting Eun Miryeong’s mementos and gifts barely cost any Karma at all.
After checking twice more to ensure he had missed nothing, he finished selecting his harvest. Then he unfolded and read once again the letter Eun Miryeong had left him.
At some point he had to desperately hold back the deep sigh and the tears that threatened to fall.
“I already miss you again, my wife…”
With that murmur as his final words, he left the waiting space and awakened in reality.
He was lying on the bed in his quarters within the outpost fortress, deep inside a Great Rift on Earth.
* * *
It took quite a long time to recall his memories of Earth and regain his sense of reality.
He had to pay special attention to correcting his speech patterns and mannerisms. Here, he was a talented young S-rank Hunter, not the legendary Mugeuk Supreme of the Jianghu.
There are things I must do…
First, he needed to continue accumulating Karma.
He could steadily hunt monsters, receive Mana Stones as compensation, prepare the supply of Awakening Herbs, and incorporate the Wonryeok Mudo into the ongoing knowledge dissemination plan.
Next, the matter of Lee Won-hee came to mind.
Before leaving for the Jianghu, he had been unable to decide whether to accept her as a disciple. Seeing her again now, the chance to take such a young genius as his disciple was truly an immense stroke of fortune.
After that came the matter concerning the Eternal Goddess Cult in relation to the post-apocalyptic Earth.
There was no need to act on that immediately; simply keeping it in the back of his mind was enough.
And after that…
I should reach the Critical Decision stage.
Naturally cradling Mu-yong in his arms and stroking her, he continued thinking through various tasks.
There were by no means few things he needed to do.
But for now.
It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a short vacation outside the Great Rift. He could restore his sense of reality and reorganize his plans at the same time.