By Zephyria 
HF 59
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“You have a keen eye.”
Yu Cheong-pung spoke as he lifted his teacup, trying not to be overwhelmed by Cheon Mu-gyeong’s presence. He even went so far as to blow on the tea, which had already gone cold, pretending to be composed.
“Well, I assume you came knowing everything.”
When Cheon Mu-gyeong had met Yu Cheong-pung before, he hadn’t looked like this. Though he was nearly sixty, he had been vigorous due to his high level of martial arts; compared to then, he now looked young enough to be the Alliance Leader’s son.
Yu Cheong-pung watched Cheon Mu-gyeong intently as he drank liquor straight from the bottle. While the world was full of vivid colors, it felt as if the space around Cheon Mu-gyeong was a monochrome ink painting, where all colors had been stripped away. Even his ink-black hair seemed to absorb the light; perhaps he had reached a state even more supreme than when they had last fought their life-and-death duel.
However, his impression of the man’s appearance remained unchanged from that day. He was an eerily beautiful man. One might wonder if such a description was fitting for a man, but just as one could describe the hundred thousand great mountains as beautiful, his aura—born from an overwhelming presence and perfect harmony—was exactly that.
“I once conquered the Central Plains. It was nothing special.”
There was a hint of boredom in Cheon Mu-gyeong’s monotonous tone. But at those words, Yu Cheong-pung froze, unable to even drink the tea in his cup. Cheon Mu-gyeong rinsed his mouth with the cloudy liquor once more before setting the bottle down.
“Are you… insane?”
Yu Cheong-pung’s face twisted in disbelief.
“Moreover, this isn’t the first time I’ve left a True Human alive.”
To appear as if he knew about the meeting between Yu Cheong-pung and the Alliance Leader, and then to say such things—it sounded like the ramblings of a madman.
“Are you saying you can kill me at any time? How utterly arrogant.”
It was a bold statement to make to the Heavenly Demon, but Yu Cheong-pung did not take his words back. He knew that if Cheon Mu-gyeong had come to take his life, he wouldn’t be sitting face-to-face, sharing drinks.
“And I’ve never run away with my tail between my legs. Perhaps I should say I fled like a flying tiger.”
Despite having fled, he packaged it as if he were a tiger in flight.
“Stop just drinking and have some snacks.”
However, his arrogance was limited to his words. Yu Cheong-pung slid the dumplings, which the waiter had served hot, toward Cheon Mu-gyeong.
Cheon Mu-gyeong kept his gaze fixed on Yu Cheong-pung. In his repeated lives, he had fought life-and-death duels with Yu Cheong-pung quite many times. It was because there were several instances where their meeting was inevitable.
Cheon Mu-gyeong would return to that day when he was nineteen, using the end of his twenty-ninth year as the turning point.
The starting point was always the same. He would wake up in a certain cave in the hundred thousand great mountains, where not a single speck of light was permitted, with a body that was a complete wreck. It was after he had beheaded the Fire Dragon and consumed its inner core.
At one point, sensing his death after the fight with the Fire Dragon, he had chosen to consume the inner core. Standing on the precipice of life and death, it had been a reckless act.
No, come to think of it, he could no longer remember his feelings at the time. He likely had no intention of handing the inner core over to the Cult Leader. Not a shred of loyalty toward the Cult Leader had ever existed within him.
It wasn’t because of the inner core that Cheon Mu-gyeong hadn’t hesitated to throw himself into the lava, the Fire Dragon’s lair.
Long ago, he had been extremely bellicose. Even when Cheon Beom-yeong and his maternal family pushed him to the front lines to secure the position of Young Cult Leader, he didn’t mind. He was filled only with the obsession to conquer the entity known as the Fire Dragon. He was that crazed for martial arts.
That was his life before the repetitions began.
Every time, Cheon Mu-gyeong regained consciousness leaning against a collapsed rock wall inside the cave. His clothes were nothing more than rags, but since his body had already undergone marrow washing and bone reforming after digesting the Fire Dragon’s inner core, all his qi and blood were as cleanly organized as if he had just been born.
However, a heat that felt as if it would burn his entire body always accompanied him. As did the sulgub spell carved into his forearm to suppress the curse.
Yu Cheong-pung would always appear not far from the cave where Cheon Mu-gyeong woke up. Unable to contain his overflowing indignation after losing numerous Kunlun disciples to the demon sect’s raid, Yu Cheong-pung had entered the hundred thousand great mountains.
“I hope there was a reason for leaving you alive. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ah, this is frustrating. Are you telling me to throw myself on the ground and beg for my life right now?”
“Do you intend to change your sect to the Beggars’ Guild?”
“Hah…!”
Yu Cheong-pung let out a loud, sharp breath. Perhaps because they had never shared a proper conversation during their life-and-death duels, he hadn’t thought of him as a man who would make such jokes.
“Just speak plainly. Did you come all this way because of the Murim Alliance Leader? Or are you worried that our Murim Alliance might invade the demon sect? You’re making it very obvious that you’re spying on us.”
Not only was the Heavenly Demon openly traveling the lands of the Central Plains, but he had also tracked the Alliance Leader and Yu Cheong-pung without any intention of hiding it. In other words, it meant the Heavenly Demon feared nothing.
“Kunlun’s generosity must truly be as vast as the sea, seeing as you still refer to the Murim Alliance as ‘ours’.”
As Cheon Mu-gyeong sneered, Yu Cheong-pung shouted back.
“Even a rotten fish is still a fish—the Alliance is still better than the demon sect!”
Ssh, Cheon Mu-gyeong stood up. Though Yu Cheong-pung had shouted with confidence, he looked at Cheon Mu-gyeong with high alertness.
“Yu Cheong-pung.”
“Wha-what?”
“Do you not want to become the Alliance Leader?”
Yu Cheong-pung’s eyes bulged.
“Do you think I’d crave such a title when I’m barely holding onto the position of Supreme True Human?”
“At the very least, you’d crave the prestige of Kunlun.”
“…….”
Yu Cheong-pung ground his teeth. If the demon sect bastards hadn’t invaded, he wouldn’t have been treated this way by the Murim Alliance, nor would the members of Kunlun have perished. Yet, this man, the Heavenly Demon who stood at the peak of demonic arts, spoke so flippantly.
“If what I feel toward the Murim Alliance is nothing but a sense of betrayal, then the demon sect is our primary enemy.”
“This seat has no intention of achieving the unification of murim.”
“……!”
Was this Heavenly Demon truly insane? Since the great ambition of the Central Plains was the unification of murim, the demon sect was no different. That was why the great war of righteous and demonic had raged for countless centuries.
“If I wished to, I could do it even now.”
“Just how arrogant can you be? Even if the Cult Leader has transcended demonicity, could he possibly win against tens of thousands of opponents?”
“That is truly a foolish thing to say.”
Cheon Mu-gyeong, holding the liquor bottle in his hand, continued.
“It took barely a month to dismantle the Murim Alliance.”
Cheon Mu-gyeong had already stained the lands of the Central Plains with the demon sect. Starting with the Murim Alliance Leader Jegal Hwi, followed by the Vice-Leader, the Strategist, the Chief Envoy—though he couldn’t recall them all now—it had taken only a month to purge the entire leadership. At that time, Cheon Mu-gyeong was called the embodiment of demonicity in every land.
“You’ve been saying very strange things for a while now. Almost as if you’ve actually done it.”
Knowing it was an impossible story, Yu Cheong-pung could not shake the feeling of unease.
“If unification of murim isn’t the goal, then what on earth is the Cult Leader’s objective?”
Yu Cheong-pung waited for Cheon Mu-gyeong’s answer. However, he didn’t utter a word until he had emptied the remaining liquor, and only then did he move to leave. It was just before exiting the inn that he spoke.
His footsteps remained ordinary, but the final words he left behind continued to echo in Yu Cheong-pung’s mind.
* * *
Ho-yeon had to perform meditative breathing for two shijin every single day. After the meditative breathing, he had to climb up and down the mountain, and he even had lead weights tied to his ankles. Consequently, he would often grow exhausted just by reaching the middle of the mountain and end up heading back down.
Ho-yeon had always slept a lot, but under this training—which he called “Cheon Mu-gyeong’s torture”—he would fall fast asleep as soon as the start of the hour of the pig arrived.
Fortunately, under the pretext of martial arts training, he was able to escape the thatched cottage of the severed peak and was staying at the shadowless pavilion as before. Abok was still in charge of meals, and Jangun, Cheon Mu-gyeong’s shadow, monitored Ho-yeon.
Today, even though it was nearly the end of the hour of the pig, Ho-yeon kept his eyes wide open and stared at the doorway. Cheon Mu-gyeong had explicitly told him that he would teach him a lightfoot technique.
“Teach me martial arts. If I can stabilize my dantian, you can take as much yin energy as you want, right?”
Of course, Ho-yeon had been the one to coax Cheon Mu-gyeong first. But he wondered if he was the kind of man who could be swayed by coaxing.
“Is there any insane disciple who calls their master ‘you’?”
And yet, he had actually agreed to provide instruction.
But looking back, he wondered what the man trusted about him to inject his true qi. If Ho-yeon were to suffer from qi deviation, Cheon Mu-gyeong would naturally be in danger as well. Since his true qi would be affected by Ho-yeon’s distorted qi and blood, he too could fall into qi deviation.
That was why no matter how great a master they were, they wouldn’t be as reckless with a disciple as Cheon Mu-gyeong was.
However, after that, he had done nothing but put him through training, claiming that the body had to be capable enough to learn a lightfoot technique. Of course, he knew that external arts were as important as internal energy. But even if he were born again, he could never have a body like Cheon Mu-gyeong’s.
“Are you finally sleeping with your eyes open?”
That was the first thing Cheon Mu-gyeong said as he entered the room and looked at the wide-eyed Ho-yeon.