54 - Travelling Relationship (4) - The Heaven-Slaying Sword

Kwak Chil was a third-rate martial artist. From the very first day he picked up a wooden sword in his young age until now, he had always been a third-rate martial artist. It was because of his lack of talent. Despite his admiration for the wandering heroes of the martial world, his cursed talent prevented him from becoming like them. Yet, Kwak Chil admired those heroes. He was completely captivated by the romance of the two characters, martial (武) and hero (俠). Fortunately, he had a talent that allowed him to express his own form of heroism. Kwak Chil was a storyteller. He also possessed excellent writing skills. Unable to shout his heroism with a sword, he chose to do so with his pen. This was the backstory behind the creation of "Tales of the Martial Heroes." Of course, although it was considered light reading, it was by no means a worthless book. Why would it be? It was a story imbued with the essence of heroism that a man had admired his whole life. "With this book, I will spread my idea of heroism to the whole world!" In his younger days, Kwak Chil ventured into his own martial world under the pen name 'Kwak Chil Standard,' elevating his name by writing all sorts of splendid stories of sword heroes and benevolent heroes. Thus, he earned a nickname. 'The Heroic Scholar Kwak Chil Standard.' It was a nickname filled with the romantic notion of practicing heroism with a pen. Perhaps, it was that which fueled Kwak Chil's ambitions. He desired to cry out for more romantic forms of heroism that touched the heart. The greatest mistake of Kwak Chil's life, the 'Story of the Demon Hero,' emerged out of such desires. Kwak Chil just wanted to say, that in everyone's heart lives heroism, and things like social status, position, or the life one has lived don't matter at all. It was a truly pure dream, and thus, a dream crushed by reality. Reality was a bit crueler than Kwak Chil had thought. "Kwak Chil is defending the demon faction!" Where the rumor originated from, Kwak Chil did not know. How the rumor had spread was also unknown to him. What was certain was that at some point, the rumor had plummeted the reputation of "Tales of the Martial Heroes," on which he had staked his life, into the abyss. Kwak Chil was afraid. He was afraid of the people who had supported him turning their backs, afraid of being caught by the martial alliance, and afraid of being criticized. So, he hid. He chose to live in silence, breaking the pen that he had held all his life. It was not an easy choice. But it was one that had to be made. Fortunately, time was fair and generous, gradually dulling Kwak Chil's senses. Of course, it was an unavoidable fact that his passion had also dulled with time. Such were those 20 years. "I'm, I'm sorry!" Mok Riwon knelt and exclaimed. The deep embarrassment on his face made the onlookers feel sorry for him. Even as Kwak Chil cried, he smiled. "No, it's not because of my tears from the great 'Silent Dragon'." The old man's tears were such wretched things, yet no one really considered them wretched. The smile that bloomed amidst the sobbing was genuinely pitiful and tender, making those watching cast sympathetic glances. "It reminded me of the old days." Kwak Chil awkwardly wiped his eyes. "Yes, it reminded me of the old days. Gathering like this and sharing stories reminds me of my childhood." "Is, is it okay?" "It's alright. Yes, more than alright." Kwak Chil laughed, shrugging his shoulders. The old man finally realized he wasn't a criminal, laughing and crying at the relief and the bitterness. "I’m sorry to display such a sorry sight. Can you, maybe, share that story a bit more?" "Which story…?" "The story of the Demon Hero. I'd like to hear more of what the 'Silent Dragon' thinks." Kwak Chil still couldn't bring himself to say he was 'Kwak Chil Standard.' How could an author who fled without finishing his story take pride in himself? Still, he wished for comfort. His words carried such a warm heat that Kwak Chil shamelessly asked. Mok Riwon smiled brightly. "Of course! We could go all night!" "We don't have to go all night. We have a road to travel tomorrow, don't we?" "Oh right!" As Mok Riwon exclaimed, laughter burst from those around. Embarrassed, Mok Riwon scratched the back of his head, then slowly began to speak. The story of a certain heroism that continued into the long night, harbored the yearning of a boy who had not yet become a man. * Dang Hwa-Seo watched Mok Riwon from a distance. That's why she had no choice but to ask him. "Why did you make that announcer cry?" "I didn't make him cry!" Mok Riwon exclaimed in shock. What followed was, as expected, a lengthy explanation. Fortunately, this time, Jegal San was there to help with the explanation, and since the story itself had some merit, Dang Hwa-Seo accepted it. "It seems you had a delightful time. I'm glad." "It was a truly delightful time!" Mok Riwon said, continuing to chatter incessantly. Stories of how well he got along with the man named Kwak Chil, the promise to share drinks and stories again tomorrow evening, and how they had decided to set up their own tents. Dang Hwa-Seo chuckled at this. And so, she spent a joyful night. It was the second day of the journey. At the mountain pass connecting Anhui to Wuhan, there stood a bandit stronghold of considerable size. It was a hideout for bandits. However, contrary to what one might expect from a stronghold, the scene currently unfolding there was bizarre. To say it was the hideout of bandits was too gentle; it was far too desolate and sickening a sight. The fences had all fallen. Every structure that served as a dwelling was on the verge of collapse, and blood dripped everywhere. The smell confirmed it as well. Instead of the stench of unwashed men or the scent of latrines, the place reeked only of blood and death. There were those seated amidst that place. "Grand Leader. They have arrived." A man clad in black martial attire bowed deeply. Following his cue, the man being addressed lifted his head. His appearance too was bizarre. Like the man who had just bowed, he wore black martial attire, but unlike him, he was filthy to the point of finding no clean spot even if one were to wash their eyes and look. His hair was a tangled mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and his sparsely bearded face all suggested the form of a madman. "Silent Dragon, what a ridiculous name." The man laughed. "How is it not funny for a demon to act the dragon?" As he snickered, his yellow teeth were exposed. The well-groomed man bowed even deeper in submission. "You speak the truth." "Yes, isn't it unfair? That such a person can become a dragon while we are relegated to demons." The man's laugh deepened. Though his words carried a sense of injustice, his demeanor was one of sheer delight. "I wish to become not Quan Mo (Fist Demon) but Quan Long (Fist Dragon)." The man stood up. "So we must resolve this injustice." The red in his bloodshot eyes intensified. Quan Mo Pei Wung Chu. He exhaled a breath thick with delight and looked towards the direction where the road lay. * On the fifth day of their escort mission, the escort masters felt their tension ease a bit as the day passed without any unusual danger. Today, Mok Riwon seemed especially in good spirits as he walked. "Maiden, did you know?" "What are you referring to?" "Night pearls are actually made by splitting a giant pearl into consistent sizes before selling them! I always thought they were all naturally the same size!" "Indeed, if one has not seen a large night pearl, they might think so." "Have you seen a large night pearl then?" Mok Riwon's eyes widened in surprise. Dang Hwa-Seo chuckled. "As it turns out, I did grow up in a rather wealthy home." Of course, her family home, despite its lack of pleasant memories, was one of the most prestigious in the martial world, the Szechuan Tang Sect. Thus, Dang Hwa-Seo had seen her share of valuable treasures. Realizing this, Mok Riwon ‘ah!’ and nodded. "I see… I thought it was an amazing tale that would surprise you." "Was that also a story told by Kwak Chil?" "Yes. Elder Kwak really knows a lot." "It must be the experience that comes with age. The longer one lives, the more they see." Such conversations had been frequent over the past few days. As the day ended, Mok Riwon would rush to Kwak Chil to listen to various tales of the martial world, which he would then share with Dang Hwa-Seo during the day. Among these stories, some were known to Dang Hwa-Seo, and some indeed surprised her, making their conversations rich and varied. "Well, even considering that, Kwak Chil does seem to know a lot. Even I hadn't heard about the white-tailed fox spirit from Northern Hebei." "Ah! That story was truly interesting! How about joining us for the tales today, Maiden? Elder Kwak has a way with words, you might find yourself more engaged in the stories than when I recount them." "That's alright. I don't mind this arrangement." This was the invitation and refusal that had been going on for the past few days. The peaceful atmosphere and leisurely journey were becoming something special for Dang Hwa-Seo as well. Just five more days and their journey would come to an end. As Dang Hwa-Seo entertained a strange sense of regret at that thought. "...Enemies." Mok Riwon uttered softly. His expression suddenly turned icy. Dang Hwa-Seo also quickly amplified her sensory awareness. '...There.' There was a group caught in her detection. Realizing this, Dang Hwa-Seo shouted. "Enemies!" The procession halted. And as the escort masters showed confused faces, they noticed the rustling in the nearby bushes and began drawing their weapons. Boom! Boom! Boom! Drums sounded. "Enemies!" "Get ready for defense!" The calls of the escort masters filled the air. Among them, one was quicker to spring into action. It was Mok Riwon. Swoosh- Drawing his sword, Mok Riwon dashed to the front of the procession. Dark energy seeped continuously from his body. 'Murderous intent.' This was unmistakably murderous intent. It wasn't just murderous intent; it was the most intense murderous intent Mok Riwon had ever felt in his life. Mok Riwon's heart pounded wildly. His breathing exceeded its normal rhythm, quickening, and his thoughts narrowed down to a single point. 'It's different.' This feeling was too strange to be merely described as murderous intent. Along with a sense of danger, there emerged a heaviness, a peculiar sensation that, if one were forced to describe, could only be called 'comfort.' With curiosity, Mok Riwon headed towards the front. Guided by his instincts, he thrust his sword with all his might. Boom! At that moment, a scarlet energy burst targeting the front line emerged. Mok Riwon's energy dispelled the scarlet wave. Then, from the bushes, a figure leapt forth. "Nice to meet you-!" With his disheveled hair flying, the strange assailant lunged at Mok Riwon with clenched fists. Mok Riwon deflected the attack with the flat of his blade. In the instant their distances closed, the moment their eyes met, Mok Riwon felt his heart drop. '...Demon Qi (魔鬼).' His instincts told him. This was the aura of a demon. On the fifth day of the escort mission, at noon, Mok Riwon encountered a demon person for the first time in his life.