Chapter 95: Master (4)

He stared blankly at the bizarre spectacle for a moment.

"Hehehe. Yeong-jin, your talent truly astounds me!"

The moment that familiar name escaped the old man's lips, the Heavenly Demon grasped what was happening.

‘So that's how it is.’

The Heavenly Demon nodded and deliberately made his presence known as he approached the pavilion.

"Who goes there!?"

"Master?"

The old man's sword flashed from its sheath in an instant as he fixed his glare on the Heavenly Demon, while Il-mok stared as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Master? What nonsense is this?"

Old Man Kang's face twisted with confusion at Il-mok's form of address.

Witnessing this chaos, the Heavenly Demon let out a weary sigh and channeled his demonic energy.

"!!"

That crushing aura filled the air, and only then did the old man recognize who stood before him. He threw himself to the ground in complete submission.

"This humble one greets the Lord of Ten Thousand Demons!"

The Heavenly Demon sighed at the old man's desperate reverence. "Rise, Elder Kang."

"Your servant obeys."

As the old man straightened with practiced grace, the Heavenly Demon spoke. "I need to talk with your disciple Yeong-jin. Wait here."

"As you command."

The Heavenly Demon turned to Il-mok. "Come."

Watching the Heavenly Demon's retreating figure as he turned and headed into the thicket, questions only grew larger in Il-mok's mind.

'...Why is Master here? Don't tell me he came to rescue me?'

Following the Heavenly Demon into the woods, Il-mok didn't bother hiding his curiosity.

"Master! What brings you to this place?"

"You, obviously. Who else?"

"You came personally?"

"This isn't somewhere just anyone can wander into. I had to come myself."

"Ah..."

After two days in this hellish place, Il-mok understood completely. The relentless attacks from those deranged old monsters weren't something ordinary martial artists could survive.

'The cult leader himself came all the way here just to save me.'

A flicker of gratitude stirred in Il-mok's chest.

Not that he had much reason to feel grateful.

‘Is this Stockholm syndrome or something?’

After all, it was because of this ‘Master’ that he'd been dragged into this crazy cult in the first place. Feeling grateful toward the source of his misery seemed pretty twisted.

But as that tiny spark of gratitude flickered, Il-mok caught the strange look in the Heavenly Demon's eyes and his blood went cold.

‘I'm dead.’

In this world, serving two lords marked you as unfilial scum. Just look at how people treated Lü Bu.

The same applied to switching masters. The saying of ‘A teacher a day, a father for life’ isn’t just some empty saying in this world.

It wouldn't surprise him if this fanatic cult leader decided to personally remove his head for being an unfilial wretch.

‘Baek Cheon nearly had his limbs severed just for calling me a son of a bitch!’

Cold sweat ran down Il-mok's spine as his neck prickled with phantom pain.

But he couldn't just stand there waiting to be executed.

"Master, about me calling that old man 'master', there's been a misunderstanding..."

Il-mok hurried to defend himself, but the Heavenly Demon cut him off. "I know what happened. You played the role of his disciple out of kindness to Elder Kang."

"!?"

Il-mok had acted as Yeong-jin purely to save his own skin, but somehow the Heavenly Demon saw it as an act of kindness toward the old man.

Come to think of it, the Heavenly Demon had played along with their charade from the start, even calling him Yeong-jin when he appeared.

Il-mok didn't understand why, but he recognized his lifeline when he saw it.

"Y-yes, exactly, Master!"

At Il-mok's enthusiastic agreement, the Heavenly Demon gazed toward the pavilion with melancholy and stroked his beard with a pitying expression.

"Truly kind of you."

The bitter sadness in his tone made Il-mok venture a careful question. "Do you know that old man, Master?"

"Hahaha. Did Hayeon not tell you what kind of place this Peach Blossom Ridge is?"

"Ah!"

Only then did Il-mok realize what an idiotic question he'd just asked.

This place served as a retreat for the elders of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. Of course, his Master—who'd ruled as the Heavenly Demon for decades—would know everyone here.

Before they became like this, these people had helped lead the cult alongside him for years.

Feeling embarrassed, Il-mok asked the Heavenly Demon. "What kind of person was this Elder Kang?"

"A capable person. The Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword's side effects made him obsessively thorough, and his swordsmanship was exceptional. Everyone expected him to achieve Transcendence eventually." The Heavenly Demon's expression darkened. "Until tragedy struck."

"What happened?"

"When word came that his disciple had died on a mission, something inside him began to wither."

"..."

"Then came strange rumors that he wandered the mountains, searching for his dead disciple. Soon after, his memory started failing."

"He must have loved that disciple deeply."

The Heavenly Demon shook his head. "Quite the opposite. His failure to love became his eternal torment."

"???"

Seeing Il-mok's confusion, the Heavenly Demon elaborated. "Elder Kang was consumed by his duties and his pursuit of mastering the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword. He never gave his disciple the attention he deserved. After Yeong-jin's death, regret ate at him daily. He convinced himself that with just a little more training, a little more guidance, his disciple would have returned alive from the mission."

"I see..."

Now Il-mok understood why the dementia-stricken old man forgot everything else but clung desperately to teaching him sword techniques.

With a heavy heart, Il-mok asked, "What kind of person was the disciple named Yeong-jin? Seeing how Elder Kang mistakes me for him, I must have resembled him."

"You don't resemble him at all. Not even close. Yeong-jin had sharp, rugged features, nothing like yours. And he was already over thirty when he died."

Strange. How could someone with no resemblance whatsoever be mistaken for another person?

Sure, Il-mok had claimed to be the disciple, but dementia alone couldn't explain such complete delusion.

‘His longing must run that deep.’

A grief so profound had clouded the old man's vision entirely.

A bitter taste filled Il-mok's mouth. "Master. Do you plan to leave this place immediately?"

"I could force our way out, but there's no rush now that you're safe. The life gate opens in five days. We'll leave then."

Il-mok seemed to reach some internal decision and spoke in a cautious tone. "I know this sounds ungrateful, but... Can I stay with Elder Kang for those five days?"

"You want to keep playing Yeong-jin until we leave?"

"If Master permits it, I would like to do so."

The Heavenly Demon studied Il-mok thoughtfully. His fingers worked through his beard before he nodded.

"If you truly regarded Elder Kang as your master, it would warrant punishment. But I know this comes from genuine compassion. Very well. I shall permit it."

***

With the Heavenly Demon's permission, Il-mok returned to Elder Kang's side.

Their routine continued unchanged.

The old man who'd failed his first disciple threw himself into training his "second" one, drilling Il-mok relentlessly in the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword.

"They say the disciple will surpass the master eventually. Seeing your progress, this old man’s heart is filled with happiness. Hahaha.”

Every time Il-mok showed progress, the old man would rejoice with childlike raptures.

And between the training sessions, Il-mok took care of him.

"Master, your meal is ready."

"Master, time for your bath."

He prepared food and fed the old man by hand. He heated water and gently washed the frail body, scrubbing away grime with patient care.

And when the fog rolled back over Elder Kang's mind,

"Who the hell are you!?"

"Master, I'm your disciple Yeong-jin."

Il-mok had grown used to these episodes, responding with natural ease each time.

Perhaps because he now understood Elder Kang's story, Il-mok noticed a pattern.

‘His memory only stays clear when he's teaching Yeong-jin.’

How great must that regret be for him to be like this?

So Il-mok continued the charade, training as Yeong-jin, caring for his "master."

The Heavenly Demon kept his distance, perhaps out of respect for Elder Kang's dignity. In a way, it was also a kind of vacation for the Heavenly Demon. Peach Blossom Ridge earned its name honestly; the scenery here was breathtaking.

Three days after the Heavenly Demon entered the Oblivion Ridge, on the fifth night since Il-mok had been living as Yeong-jin—

Rustle.

After confirming Elder Kang slept soundly, Il-mok quietly slipped out from the pavilion toward the place where the Heavenly Demon was. Earlier that evening, his master had summoned him for a midnight meeting.

And in the room Il-mok had left.

"Yeong-jin... Yeong-jin..."

Elder Kang's arms moved restlessly as he mumbled in his sleep.

In his dreams, he walked with his late disciple.

—Master. It's alright for you to forget me now.

But Yeong-jin was saying goodbye, preparing to leave forever.

‘What are you talking about? How could I ever forget you?’

—This happened because your worthless disciple lacked talent. None of it was your fault. So please, Master, let me go.

No! This is all on me! Come back, Yeong-jin!

—I never blamed you, not once. So stop blaming yourself, Master.

!!!

As Yeong-jin finished his last words and turned to leave, Elder Kang desperately chased after him.

But no matter how fast he moved his legs, his disciple's retreating figure grew smaller and smaller.

Yeong-jin! Yeong-jin!

He reached out frantically, trying to grab those shoulders, but the gap only widened.

"Yeong-jin!!"

The anguished cry tore from his throat as Elder Kang's eyes snapped open.

Darkness surrounded him.

"Yeong-jin?"

He sat up abruptly, head swiveling as he searched for the disciple who'd been sleeping beside him.

‘Disciple?’

Something was wrong.

The face he'd seen in his dream bore no resemblance to the face that had been caring for him these past few days.

The contradiction hit him like lightning.

Memories crashed over him in overwhelming waves.

News of Yeong-jin's death. His slow descent into madness. Coming to Oblivion Ridge. A strange boy claiming to be his late disciple.

Fragmented and hazy, the memories reassembled themselves piece by piece.

Elder Kang quickly sat in the lotus position and began controlling the demonic energy of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword that had started to rampage.

‘How dare he impersonate my disciple!’

Bewilderment gave way to fury. But then—

— Stop blaming yourself, Master.

The words of his disciple from the dream cooled his rage.

And other memories surfaced, memories of time spent with that boy who had called himself Yeong-jin. Memories of preparing meals for him and feeding him. Memories of carefully washing his body. Even memories of receiving the training he'd failed to give to the real Yeong-jin.

‘Ah... So it’s thanks to that child.’

Time had weathered the old man's heart like stone worn smooth by desert winds. From his closed eyes, a single tear traced its way down his cheek.

When he opened them again, neither hatred nor anger remained.