Two days later, the Pungcheon Cult Leader departed from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, leading all the subordinates he had brought with him.
He had exchanged farewells with the Heavenly Demon, but he did not so much as greet the Eight Demon Venerables.
The cult members murmured among themselves that he had left in anger over the theft of the sacred object.
We were the only ones who knew the truth behind his sudden return.
“The Cult Leader is an impatient man, so he will settle the affairs of the Pungcheon Cult and return as quickly as possible.”
Who would be appointed as the next Pungcheon Cult Leader and how the internal restructuring would proceed had already been thoroughly discussed with Gowol.
“I am truly grateful that you accepted my first proposal.”
“It is I who should be grateful. Thanks to you, I have brought a formidable expert like the Pungcheon Cult Leader to my side.”
“Did you not see how plump he had grown from neglecting his training and lazing about? We must put him through proper training when he returns.”
“You must be the one to do it. Who could say such a thing to the Supreme Beyond the World?”
“Please leave it to me.”
It felt as though I had accomplished something truly great. I had gained an exceptional strategist in Gowol, and on top of that, an absolute master in the Pungcheon Cult Leader. Though the Pungcheon Cult Leader had come to the main cult and been pushed around, he remained the strongest in the realm beyond. A fight between masters has so many variables that nothing is ever certain, but I believe there is not a single Demon Venerable confident enough to claim they could defeat him.
“I say, Strategist Gowol.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“You must know that a strategist’s profession demands one to look into others. Even so, take care of yourself whenever you have the chance.”
I had said “take care” rather than “look into yourself.” Even without explicit advice, clever Gowol would surely grasp the deeper meaning behind my words.
“The Young Master is truly a warm and kind person.”
“Words I hear often. Perhaps it is evidence that I act my part well.”
Gowol did not believe me when I called it an act.
“I shall cover the weaknesses that such kindness brings.”
“Take your time. That is fine.”
“Yes.”
“I shall step out for a moment. I have been neglecting my old subordinates while looking after you. It is time I tended to them as well.”
“Please return safely.”
I headed straight for the Heavenly Demon Hall. Caring for others must be done from the top down.
* * *
Father was in the training ground.
He used to test me with a surprise attack whenever I entered, but today he stood in the center, gazing down at a Go board.
“Do you play Go as well?”
I had known that Father enjoyed Go, but I had never once seen him play.
“There are but a handful in this cult who can defeat me.”
“At Go, you mean?”
“Naturally.”
“Whenever the board turns unfavorable, do you not signal by dragging a hand across your throat? And each time, Uncle Hwi silently appears behind your opponent, and—thrust.”
“On occasion. One must win the match, after all.”
I laughed at Father’s joke and went to his side. I knew Father’s Go skill well. It was not as remarkable as he claimed; he was decent at best. If he had won many games, it was because many had thrown them for him. Such was the downward leveling in the presence of the Heavenly Demon.
“It is a problem given by Strategist Sama, and I cannot find the answer at all.”
It was quite a difficult life-and-death problem.
I examined it quietly before speaking to Father.
“If you play here, will White not live?”
At least at Go, I was the stronger player. Father, having confirmed that it was the correct answer, showed surprise.
“Not bad.”
“Is it not true that a kibitzer standing by often sees the board more clearly?”
“A kibitzer? But I was solving the problem by myself.”
“Did you not have an opponent, Father?”
“Who?”
“Your pride. Your competitive spirit, insisting that you must solve this problem, was seated right there beside you.”
Father scoffed and sat before the Go board.
“Sit beside it as well. Let us play a match.”
“Very well. But no hand-to-throat signals if things turn against you.”
I played Go with Father.
Hunting, then a meal, and now Go. Truly, these were things I could not have dreamed of before my regression.
I focused solely on the game without any idle chatter. Clack, clack. In the silence, the sound of placing stones was crisp.
It was nothing special. Just a father and son playing a game of Go. How had we never done this simple thing even once before? Why had I trembled so at the mere sight of his face?
The beauty of Go is that no words are needed until it ends.
Yet much happens. I built my house, and Father built his. At times I invaded his house, and at times I was hounded like a cornered horse. At times I conceded, and at times I played bold moves.
The game with Father was incredibly enjoyable, yet I displayed my full strength. I well knew that Father was the very embodiment of competitive spirit, so I did not hold back. Should he detect even a hint of being indulged, it would bring a result far worse than losing by a wide margin.
As the situation turned against him, Father stroked his chin. It was the first time I had seen him contemplate so seriously. I suspected he had not looked even at the war table during the war against the Martial Alliance with such earnestness.
I forcibly held back the urge to make such a quip. If I had, Father might have overturned the unfavorable board in spite.
Perhaps even Father wished he could make a playful throat-slitting gesture at this moment.
Naturally, no such thing occurred.
The game ended, and I won by six points.
“Fearing you might not be the Heavenly Demon after all, you truly play a vicious fighting game. I barely won.”
“When did you learn Go?”
“I studied it in my spare time, after hearing that Father was learning from Strategist Sama. Ah, and I welcome a rematch anytime.”
At my triumphant display, Father extended his hand over the board.
Swishhhh.
The stones rose into the air as they were, and the white and black stones crossed paths rapidly. Displaying movements as dazzling as a performance, the stones entered their respective bowls. It was as if they were alive, returning to their homes of their own accord.
“Ah!”
I exclaimed in genuine admiration. This single move seemed to speak to me thus:
*The final realm of controlling objects through the void is something like this. Do you understand?*
This technique alone was enough to crush my spirit, but it seemed Father was not yet satisfied.
“I cannot let you leave while I am the loser, so let us have a duel.”
“That is too much. I was planning to savor the joy of victory and stride proudly out of the Heavenly Demon Hall.”
“If you have been negligent in your martial arts training, you will not walk out of this place.”
He meant to deal with me roughly. It seemed like venting frustration over losing at Go, but it was not.
I knew. He was angry over the matter with the Pungcheon Cult Leader. It was a rebuke for associating with him and accepting a strategist despite knowing that he wished to keep the Pungcheon Cult and its leader at arm’s length.
“They say a great horse does not die easily; surely I will not perish?”
“You had best hope the house you have built is not a prison.”
When Father drew the Heavenly Demon Sword, the surrounding air grew heavy, and an intangible aura began to press down upon me. It was not a sharp, piercing force. It was the kind of pressure that felt like massive boulders crushing me from all sides.
I drew the Black Demon Sword as well and naturally unleashed the Heavenly Demon Guardian Art.
Having withstood the first wave of pressure without changing my expression, Father’s aura grew even more intense.
I raised the Heavenly Demon Guardian Art to greater heights. Having reached a considerable realm after experiencing the state of no-self, my Heavenly Demon Guardian Art held firm once more.
Then, this time, killing intent filled Father’s aura.
It was the first time I had directly felt Father’s killing intent. It was horrifying precisely because it was not gruesome.
Death had clearly settled somewhere upon my body, yet it was as light as a butterfly, so light that I could not tell where it had landed—the horror of searching frantically for where that killing intent lay, only to suddenly realize I had been plunged into a sea of it. And the despair of having no idea what to do. Father’s killing intent was a convergence of all such negative emotions.
I did not oppose Father’s killing intent but felt and accepted it as it was. Amidst the terrible fear and despair, I strove above all else not to lose myself. I strove not to be consumed by fear, but to feel myself feeling the fear.
Resisting the urge to fight back and simply enduring.
At times, the very act of naturally accepting and enduring can exert tremendous pressure on the opponent.
Indeed, Father was startled. That surprise was conveyed to me in full.
*Has your realm truly risen this far?*
The moment I read that emotion in his eyes, Father charged at me.
As Father surged forward with the Bright King Step, I employed the Bright King Step as well. I did not evade, but charged straight at him head-on.
Clang!
Only the cold ring of metal remained as we crossed paths.
From our opponent’s starting point, we turned simultaneously.
From the aftermath of the clash, the Black Demon Sword in my hand quivered. Father’s Heavenly Demon Sword trembled as well. In the past, I would not have seen it, but with my eyesight improved through the Divine Eye Art, I could see that minute trembling.
Did Father’s wrist hurt as much as mine did right now?
“I thought you only busied yourself with scheming, but you are not half bad.”
“Is it not said that romance and martial arts training are done in secret? I have been training diligently.”
Truly, I had been devoting myself to training, cutting back on sleep.
In truth, even when I did not wish to train, my body would not allow otherwise. The vigorous yet serene internal energy accumulated in my dantian longed to be unleashed upon the world, and the Wind God Steps always yearned to fight a strong foe. The Flying Heaven Sword Art was advancing beyond the Great Completion toward a new realm, and thanks to the Divine Eye Art, my eyes had grown sharper as well.
“Then shall we see if you can block this as well?”
The moment the words ended, Father vanished from sight. At the same time, I vanished as well. Like Father, I had used the Dark Shadow Step. Today, I had decided to become an imitator.
Revealing ourselves from a corner of the training ground, our swords clashed in midair.
Identical stances, as if performed by twins!
Beyond the crossed swords, a flicker of joy passed across Father’s face. It was an emotion that lasted but an instant, yet it was unmistakably the joy of meeting a worthy rival.
I well understand the solitude of an absolute being, but even so, Father, I am your son. Not your enemy.
The moment the swords parted, the Heavenly Demon Sword and the Black Demon Sword embroidered the air.
Toward one another, the Equal Heaven Form unfolded.
The blinding white sword light created by the two blades bisected the air.
Two streaks of light met and vanished like two meteors crossing in the night sky. It was but a fleeting moment, yet I found the sight beautiful.
This time, we unleashed the Changing Heaven Form simultaneously.
Twelve transformations occurred in the air. There were twelve from the Heavenly Demon Sword, and twelve from the Black Demon Sword.
If one side was splendid, the other was equally so. If one was heavy, so was the other; if one was fast, so was the other. Transformation met transformation and canceled out.
Our attacks were identical. Just as folding a paper painted with ink on one side produces the same image on the other, we exchanged the exact same strikes.
Thankfully, Father accepted my intention to imitate him, and did not launch any irregular attacks.
The next attack was the sacrificial Blazing Heaven Form.
Fierce sword qi swept through the training ground. As the two sword qis collided, the training ground trembled violently. It was a force that would have collapsed the training ground had but a little more internal energy been poured in.
“Enough!”
Father halted the duel. It seemed he judged the subsequent forms to be too dangerous. That in itself meant I had grown stronger.
Father was someone who thought there could be nothing more to surprise him about me, but today’s surprise was something new once again.
“Your skills have improved greatly.”
Father had used the word “greatly.” Those words were the highest praise, signifying that my skills had improved tremendously.
“Then that is enough.”
Forgiveness was contained in that single phrase.
Regarding the various recent matters concerning the Pungcheon Cult, he had intended to scold me harshly today if I had been negligent in my martial arts training, but having seen that my skills had improved greatly, he had forgiven me.
In the end, it was not a punishment but a reward. A twin-like spar with Father was not something one could buy even for a million nyang.
*How much would it take, Father? How much for a proper match?* Had I asked that, even as his son, I might have died.
While executing the same forms, I felt a great deal. To an outsider, they would have looked identical, but I felt the difference clearly. It is only when one senses that minute difference that one becomes a true transcendent master.
Today, I felt as though I had vaguely come to understand which direction the path of the Flying Heaven Sword Art’s Twelve Forms Great Completion should take.
“Are you not hungry? Today, your son shall buy you a meal. Let us go out to Maga Village and dine.”
I had never heard of Father going out to Maga Village recently. It was a proposal I expected to be refused outright.
“Let us go.”
I was startled by the unexpected permission.
“Are you truly going?”
“Were you merely speaking in vain?”
“Of course not. Let us go!”
Father changed into ordinary martial attire and donned a bamboo hat that could hide his face. Were he to make a formal appearance, Maga Village would be thrown into utter chaos.
And so, I departed the main compound with Father. It was Father’s and my first trip to Maga Village.