Chapter 424 |
The One who was a Returnee
There was a man called Hong Bi-cheong.
Hong Bi-cheong was an islander born on Ulleungdo.
Even on the island, his family was particularly poor, so from childhood, Bi-cheong's stomach was often empty.
Growing accustomed to dyeing his hungry stomach with the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea seemed like an inevitable fate for Bi-cheong.
'Is there any meaning to my being born?'
A martial arts novel he stumbled upon by chance gave young Bi-cheong a temporary signpost in life.
'Murim! Chivalry! That's right! Isn't this the very value a man should pursue after being born into this world!'
It was hard to see it as the correct meaning of life.
'A single sword! In this age of chaos, the only thing a great man like me can rely on is the sword!'
Every so often, there were those who felt the world around them like a vast ocean from the moment they were born.
They had to grab onto anything within reach, whether it was a ferryboat or a piece of driftwood. Otherwise, as humans who didn't know how to breathe underwater, they would only drown.
"Wait, Cheong-ah. What are you doing holding that staff?"
"Martial arts training! I'm going to become the greatest master under heaven, Mother!"
"Has he gone mad...?"
From birth, Bi-cheong was a castaway, and what he held in his hands was a wooden sword.
No, it was a stick too crude to even call a wooden sword. But young Bi-cheong roamed the mountains daily, training his eye to recognize which random piece of wood was the 'greatest sword under heaven.'
"Cheong-ah, did you finish your homework before doing this nonsense?"
"I'm on the verge of entering the pinnacle realm! Mother! Only by breaking through this barrier can I finally stand tall as a swordsman in Murim!"
"Oh my, our family has been cursed..."
Actually, Bi-cheong's mother's words were wrong. The family had been poor from the start, and there wasn't even room for more curses to creep in.
"I thought he'd do this for about two weeks then quit, but it's already been six years. Six years. He's insane."
"Since he likes swords so much, shouldn't we send him to a kendo dojo or something?"
"I wonder if there even is a kendo dojo in town..."
His mother struggled and struggled to find someone to bring in. There was no place nearby that hung up signs for Haedong Kendo or Daehan Kendo to do business, but there was an old man who supposedly learned the way under someone in his youth.
"What do you think, child? How about learning the sword properly from him?"
"Hmm."
*Slide.*
Young Bi-cheong examined the 'master' candidate his mother had brought. His gaze was extremely arrogant.
"About that level, I suppose..."
"?"
Bi-cheong's age was thirteen.
It was his second year of middle school.
"A small fry who barely touched first-rate, if that. He's someone who should be learning the sword from me instead. Hmm, not particularly to my liking. But since Mother worked hard to bring him, I suppose I'll take him as my disciple."
"??"
That day, the instructor with certification on Ulleungdo cursed furiously about what kind of mother and son these people were and left.
"You little brat! Living like that, what are you going to eat when you grow up! Huh?!"
"Mother. Making a living is important."
Bi-cheong spoke gravely.
"But soon an unprecedented age of chaos will descend upon the world! Now is the time when martial heroes must each build up their strength in preparation."
"What are you building up on this tiny island?"
"The Heavenly Demon of the chaotic age fears water. Like the Mongols of long ago, powerful on land but uncomfortable crossing seawater. This Ulleungdo is a natural fortress. The final bastion where the Dragon King of the East Sea resides, which even the Heavenly Demon dares not covet."
"Oh god! Damn it! I should just die! Oh! Heavenly Lord! Please just don't let that child starve to death!"
Not long after, Bi-cheong lost his mother.
It was difficult to scientifically determine how much influence Bi-cheong's insane existence had on his mother's lifespan.
Neither Bi-cheong nor his mother herself could know that the scientific cause of her death was lymphoma.
"Mother!"
Bi-cheong's tears scattered dramatically.
"I'm sorry for being such an unfilial son who couldn't serve you devotedly! Please watch over me from beyond the heavens! The filial piety I couldn't give to Mother, I will someday repay to the world through chivalry!"
For a mother who had already married into a poor island family, lost her husband to become fish food, and raised her child alone, this would be maddening, but unfortunately, the dead have no mouths.
Bi-cheong devoted himself to training.
"Dad, what's that person doing over there?"
"Shh. That's our neighborhood's famous lunatic. You must never acknowledge him."
Training!
"Why does that man always work out with weird Chinese songs playing on the radio?"
"You don't even know 'Men Should Self-Strengthen' (男兒當自強)? Haven't you seen the Wong Fei-hung movies?"
"What's that, you nerd."
"Wow. This is seriously not my fault."
Only training!
"I have no idea how that man stays alive without working."
"I observed him carefully for a whole day last time. You know the vegetable garden in his yard? He grows stuff there and strangely, the vegetables look really good."
"Does he have a talent for farming...?"
"So what. He only grows enough for himself."
One day, Bi-cheong met an immortal-like old man in his dreams.
—I am the 260th Sect Leader of Mount Hua Sect.
—I believed there was talent in the East capable of continuing Mount Hua's lineage, and now I see it is indeed you.
—I shall pass on to you the true teachings of Mount Hua!
*Gasp.*
Bi-cheong jumped up in shock. His whole body was drenched and his hair stood on end.
After a long while, he lamented.
"Huh! What a fateful encounter!"
In a word, it was a pipe dream.
After finishing his ritual cleansing (he had to walk quite a bit since the public bathhouse was in town), Bi-cheong bowed nine times toward Mount Hua in the west.
From that day on, whenever Bi-cheong dreamed, he continued his training within Mount Hua Sect.
"I merely thought it sufficient to wield a sword as one great man. But now that I've inherited the sect's lineage, I can't help but call myself 'this seat'!"
"Hey, what's that old man saying again?"
"I don't know. Just quietly pass by..."
Bi-cheong.
As time passed, he became a man who would buy a noble title from the Sirland Duchy and claim to be nobility.
He had never once been respected by another person. It was natural.
Bi-cheong was poor. He was strange. In the Korean Peninsula to begin with, the very mindset of dedicating one's life to the 'sword' was as alien as seeing an extraterrestrial.
"Hmm."
And then the Void arrived.
"So it begins."
Ulleungdo trembled in fear.
Thanks to the barrier called the East Sea, Ulleungdo's chaos was somewhat orderly. It didn't seem likely that the mayhem happening on the mainland would easily cross the sea.
Bi-cheong, now the Sword Marquess, seemed to be three or four steps removed from the anxiety that had swallowed the island.
"It's about time to leave my hermitage."
His eyes gleamed sharply.
"Eh? What, where are you going?"
"Murim."
"Crazy bastard. Do you know what kind of chaos is happening on the mainland right now? If you go, you'll die. People are dying in droves!"
"Murim."
"..."
"Only the rivers and lakes of Murim."
"Fuck."
The captain of the shabby boat cursed. He vowed to treat the customer before him not as a human but as a living piggy bank that had promptly paid thirty million won in full for the boat fare.
"I'm only taking you because I have relatives I have to pick up from the East Sea. Got it? I have absolutely no intention of docking anywhere else, so get lost on your own."
"That will suffice."
"Crazy old man. What shit luck..."
*Creak*, the waves rolled.
Let's pull in a different story for a moment.
The fate waiting for the Sword Marquess after coming to the mainland would generally be something like this.
—Oh my, lord Sword Marquess! We've been waiting! Please let us serve you, come this way!
The Undertaker waiting at the East Sea port would prostrate himself before the Sword Marquess and take him to Busan in the blink of an eye.
—Hmm. The ability to grow crops? After seeing nothing but people spouting nonsense all the time, seeing something like this is actually refreshing...
—I look forward to working with you in the future, elder...
A national-level dictator would respectfully address this shabby old man as 'elder' and treat him well.
—Ah. Found you, Grandpa!
—Hm? You know me?
—Of course. I know you well! I'm Oh Dok-seo, and there's a flower you need to grow, Grandpa! It's called the Udumbara, and you're the only one in this world who can mass-produce it! Come quickly, quickly!
—Now wait. This one has things to do...
—Ah, damn! Without Grandpa, the world will end!
Some girl wearing a hat would pretend to be close, hook her arm around the Sword Marquess's side, and drag him off somewhere like a kidnapping.
Truly strange fates.
Befitting the Sword Marquess, who had been evaluated as an eccentric by the world his entire life, the story destined for him was also quite peculiar.
But today, the Sword Marquess escaped that fate.
No, actually, regardless of what fate he was invited to, the final destination the Sword Marquess's blade aimed for existed separately.
When the world had perished after time passed.
Whether that destruction was the 100th, the 1,000th, or the 2,000th, it had absolutely nothing to do with the Sword Marquess.
"Hmm."
Busan, where the final defense line had been annihilated.
The puppet army commanded by Ha-yul had been destroyed without a single body remaining. The witches of Samcheon World could no longer soar, and the warriors of Baekwha Girls' High could no longer advance.
The command staff including the Undertaker had also been killed in action.
Now on the earth, there remained only the flower garden bloomed by the Saintess of the North. The largest garden in the world.
This was the world of the epilogue.
The land of destruction where time no longer flowed.
"At last, the time has come."
Right there, the Sword Marquess walked.
The Sword Marquess, holding a fake sword made of aluminum, crossed the battlefield alone.
—Uuuuurgh, ugh.
—Hee hee hee hee hee.
In the epilogue world, only beings with frozen time were crying and giggling with abandon.
Strangely, they didn't rush at the Sword Marquess when they saw him.
Though they should have been the ones who hated and envied living life more than anyone, they passed by as if they couldn't perceive the Sword Marquess at all.
After trampling the earth with the old man's worn weight, the Sword Marquess finally reached the great enemy he had targeted.
The prey he had aimed for from the start.
For decades, since he realized this world was an age of chaos, the opponent he had constantly marked with his blade was only one.
"Heavenly Demon."
"..."
*Thud.*
The being summoned by the Sword Marquess's voice turned around. Beautiful pink hair fluttered.
"This one has been waiting for you."
"..."
*Glance*.
The one called Heavenly Demon looked down at the old man's feet.
The footsteps continuing from Busan's Tower of Babel. At each and every one of those footprints, silver-colored grass that had never existed on earth before had been crushed.
"...Stealth grass."
The being with pink hair murmured.
"Grass that vanishes from not only human perception but also from anomalies' recognition. A poisonous plant that even Ms. Ye-ji’s Clairvoyance can't detect."
"You knew I would come."
"Yes. Because you almost always do."
"How cunning indeed."
In the middle of the battlefield.
On this land where destruction had already been confirmed, without anyone watching, two beings faced each other.
"Normally I'd play along appropriately, but today I'm also a bit serious, so I have no choice but to ask seriously."
"Good. I permit your question."
"Why do you call me Heavenly Demon?"
The Sword Marquess snorted.
"This heaven. The demon who corrupted the human heart, all of it originated from you, so how could I not call you Heavenly Demon?"
"..."
"Buddha refers to one who attains enlightenment and exists on their own. Buddha refers to one who is not bound by the wheel of time but raises time itself. Heavenly Demon, Demon King. Mara Papiyasas was originally a phantom of time that tempted Buddha trying to escape from time, so it is the name most fitting to call only you in this world."
"Ahaha..."
The Heavenly Demon laughed softly.
"You knew I refrain from crossing the sea, so you deliberately stayed on Ulleungdo."
"That is correct."
"Though not as much as guns, swords are also weapons that anomalies like to inhabit. Therefore, a fake sword, not a real one. Something both humans and anomalies can't help but look down on as your weapon."
"Precisely so."
"In the end, aura is also a kind of anomaly. Therefore, you never relied on aura from the beginning."
"You know well."
"To kill me."
The Sword Marquess drew his sword.
He discarded the sheath. It had served its purpose.
"Today, here, evil shall perish."
The Heavenly Demon's eyes narrowed.
"I'm human. All humans, in fact."
"Then I must cut down a human."
"I am the enlightened one. A returnee, a Buddha."
"Then I shall cut down Buddha."
"I was your daughter."
"Then I will cut down my own child."
"I'm strong. And even if you kill me, that won't be my end. This isn't the first time we've had this conversation, is it?"
"That would be so."
"No one will acknowledge your struggle. They can't see it. They won't remember it."
"A martial hero does not seek understanding."
The Sword Marquess raised his sword.
"In heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one."
"..."
"This one is the greatest under heaven, the greatest of all ages, the Marquess protecting Yuldoguk, and the direct disciple of Mount Hua Sect's 260th Sect Leader."
The Sword Marquess stepped forward.
"And I am one human born as a mother's child."
They clashed.
The Heavenly Demon was indeed mighty. No human or demon would be sufficient to stop the Heavenly Demon.
But the bloody battle continued all day long.
Every time the Sword Marquess stepped on the ground and shed blood, flowers bloomed in those places.
Though the Saintess of the North had already made the entire world her garden, contaminated it with the Udumbara world tree garden, somehow in the places touched by the Sword Marquess's footprints and blood, the Udumbara rotted and died.
Instead, plum blossoms bloomed.
The Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique.
In the blade consisting of twenty-four forms, the Sword Marquess imbued time one by one.
One. Plum blossoms bloomed in the ditch that had been infected by Udumbara.
Two. The plum petals scattered like butterflies, dancing and spreading gradually to the surroundings.
Three. The plum blossoms covered the Udumbara with their fragrance.
Four. The petals rode the contaminated world tree from root tip to branch tip, pushing forward as if slicing living flesh with a blade to draw blood.
Five. The plum blossoms covering Busan's world tree drank the falling sunlight and shone brilliantly.
Six. The massive plum blossoms that had now replaced the world tree scattered and scattered again from the world tree's branches cast over the earth.
Seven. The falling petals were numerous and dizzying, but it signified not the chaotic age's full bloom but the end of the chaotic age.
Eight. The petals fell like rain. Nine. The petals tore into nine streams and flowed into the entire world.
Ten. Because the life of a petal was to bloom life while killing itself.
Eleven.
A fragrance that would not disappear even after winter passed.
Twelve. And so, each time the Sword Marquess swung his sword, plum blossoms bloomed from a single ditch.
Thirteen. They spread across the earth.
Fourteen. They clustered in the sky.
Fifteen. Finally scattering across the world.
Sixteen. Forming an endless flower rain.
Seventeen. Just the shadows cast by the petals formed a green river current.
Eighteen. Beneath the flowing current, even the deepest roots of the Udumbara world tree rotted coldly.
Nineteen. The world gladly became drunk on that fragrance.
Twenty. The Sword Marquess felt the fragrance he had bloomed permeate his old bones.
Twenty-one. Finally, even the butterfly dance of the petals that had first formed the ditch subsided.
Twenty-two. The Sword Marquess felt the blue of the waves that had dyed his heart since childhood no longer felt cold.
Twenty-three. The waves now carried the petals, rolling far, far away.
Let the blue fly. Let it fly high.
Soar into the blue.
And so.
Twenty-four.
The Flying Blue Style.
Ten Thousand Miles of Plum Blossom Fragrance.
May the fragrance of plum blossoms flow for ten thousand miles.
The beginning of that fight, the end of that fight, the multitude of people had no way to know.
No one even knew his name.
At the end of the epilogue. In formless time, he was fighting.
Though it was always a fight that ended in defeat.
In the time crumbling with the fragrance of petals, because the old man always believed in victory.
The waves carrying red flowers were no longer lonely.
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