There were two questions he wanted to ask his father.
I’m curious what Father hates most of all.
But in this pleasant atmosphere, drinking and talking alone with his father, he did not want to ask that question. So he asked the other one.
“I want to know about Mother.”
His father nodded, as if he had expected as much.
But then words Geom Mugeuk had not anticipated flowed out.
“Do not try to learn more.”
Geom Mugeuk looked at his father in surprise. His father’s face flickered red in the campfirelight. It was weighty advice from a father to his son.
“The dead do not remain only in the past.”
How could Geom Mugeuk not understand what he meant? The more he learned, the more he would miss her.
In his life before regression, he had felt the sorrow of losing everyone more keenly than anyone. Those deaths had ruled him for his entire life.
“Leave it as it is now, as a vague longing.”
Geom Mugeuk could tell. His mother’s briefly shining life still shone forever in his father’s heart.
A love that had lost its place to go remained in his father’s heart under the name of longing.
“Isn’t it hard, remembering her all alone?”
At those unexpected words, Geom Ujin flinched and looked at his son.
Given his father’s personality, he surely had never spoken of his mother to anyone.
Not to Hwi, not to the Fist Demon, not to Sama Myeong. His father would not have told anyone. He must have endured the pain of that loss alone. This blunt, taciturn man surely had.
In his life before regression, Geom Mugeuk too had borne all that pain alone. Looking back, that never had a good influence on anyone’s life.
I miss them. I long for them. I am sad. I am angry.
If only one could utter even a single word of it to someone, the heart would ease a little.
As he himself had been before his regression, his father too had never had such an opportunity. That saddened him.
“I want to rejoice together with Father, long for her together, and grieve together.”
Geom Ujin was staring at his son with trembling eyes. He had not known his son had asked for such a reason.
“Father, I want to hear about Mother, who liked floral patterns.”
Geom Ujin drank in silence. Looking down at his empty cup, he then raised his gaze to the night sky.
Geom Mugeuk asked no more and quietly refilled his father’s cup.
At length, after a long silence, Geom Ujin opened his mouth.
“I met your mother when I was about your age.”
It was a story his father had buried in his heart for a very long time.
“She was a woman of the orthodox faction.”
Geom Mugeuk understood why his father had said he resembled his mother. He also understood why he was walking the path of a Demon Hero so naturally. It was because her blood flowed in him.
It seemed his father might tell him more, but after finishing his drink, he lay back down. Now that he had actually tried to speak, it seemed he could not hide the emotion welling up within him.
“Let’s sleep.”
Whenever he looked at his father’s back, many thoughts came to him. But the back he looked at tonight felt different from any he had seen before.
Geom Mugeuk asked no more. If he pressed, his father would probably say a few more words, but he did not.
Even without hearing it, he could imagine how arduous the process must have been for a woman of the orthodox faction to become the Demon Empress. There must have been many things he could not easily speak of to his child, enough to fill several books if written down.
What mattered was that his father and mother had overcome that entire difficult process, fulfilled their love, and given birth to his older brother and himself.
“You went through so much, Father. Thank you for bringing me into this world.”
For a moment, he felt Geom Ujin’s back tremble faintly. But in the end, his father said nothing.
Geom Mugeuk also lay down and looked up at the night sky.
‘Father, someday, please tell me Mother’s story.’
***
“You’ve come?”
The Demon Buddha, seated in the dharma hall chanting sutras, spoke without looking back.
The person who had entered the dharma hall was Geom Mugeuk. The Demon Buddha greeted him calmly, as though he had expected Geom Mugeuk to come find him as soon as he descended the mountain.
“You came down sooner than I expected.”
“I missed you so much I could hardly bear it, Demon Buddha.”
The Demon Buddha, who had been facing the Blood Buddha, turned and sat facing Geom Mugeuk.
“As always, I suppose you’ve come because you want something from me.”
He had guessed why Geom Mugeuk had come to see him.
“The Cult Leader would not have permitted it, would he?”
The Demon Buddha had read Geom Mugeuk’s thoughts the moment he gave the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp’s inner core to Geom Muyang.
“He has not permitted it yet. He is convinced my brother will not listen to me.”
The Demon Buddha shared his father’s view.
“He is seeing it correctly.”
“That is why I came to seek an answer from you, Demon Buddha.”
“Then you have come in vain.”
“What do you mean?”
The Demon Buddha spoke with certainty. If it was the Geom Muyang he knew—
“You know what sort of person your brother is, do you not? He will never accept that position.”
The Demon Buddha asked with an expression of incomprehension.
“Why are you suddenly trying to run away? Did that man Ak Gunhak put the wind in your heart?”
“That man has now made up his mind to settle down.”
“Then why?”
It was not a thought that had suddenly appeared. From long ago, his heart had been split in half. He had thought of becoming a truly extraordinary Cult Leader, and he had also thought of giving the Cult Leader’s seat to his brother and leaving it all behind.
But what had influenced his heart this time was this.
After Hwa Mugi died, he obtained the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp’s inner core?
Geom Mugeuk wondered if this might be fate bestowed by heaven. At the very least, it could not be a gift heaven had sent because his internal energy was lacking.
“Is it because of the Eldest Young Master?”
Geom Mugeuk could not answer that it was not.
“Listen, Young Cult Leader.”
“Yes, Demon Buddha.”
“I know well what sort of person you are.”
That was why he could predict it. This was a guess close to certainty.
“If it is you, you may find a way to persuade the Eldest Young Master. Perhaps you may even succeed.”
The Demon Buddha, rather, feared that success.
“I hope you do not.”
Because he could feel that the words were sincere, Geom Mugeuk asked him carefully.
“May I ask the reason?”
The Demon Buddha’s gaze sank coldly.
“Because if that happens, the Eldest Young Master’s life will become unhappy.”
“!”
Geom Mugeuk flinched in shock and could say nothing. Because the Demon Buddha knew his brother better than anyone, these were not words he could take lightly.
“After the Eldest Young Master ascends to the Cult Leader’s seat, he will have to fight endlessly with himself. Whether he is truly someone suited to that position. Moreover, he will endlessly suspect others. Whether the Demon Venerables truly follow him. Whether they are not reminiscing about you.”
“Would you not be at my brother’s side, Demon Buddha?”
The Demon Buddha slowly shook his head.
“My presence would make things even harder for the Eldest Young Master. I was the one who shared his defeat in the succession struggle. Every time he sees me, he will be reminded of the ghosts of the past. Listen, Young Cult Leader. The human heart is not so strong. Not everyone can have a heart like yours.”
Geom Mugeuk could give no answer. He had vaguely thought that if it was his brother, he would do well, and that if the Demon Buddha helped him, it would be all right. But the Demon Buddha was seeing the outcome of this matter far more realistically and accurately.
“Having intervened so deeply in everyone’s lives, did you think you could run away so easily?”
Feeling that the Demon Buddha’s words were right, Geom Mugeuk could offer no excuse.
After being lost in thought for a while, Geom Mugeuk readily acknowledged his mistake.
“My thinking was shallow.”
Because he had focused only on whether his brother would accept or not, he had not thought deeply about his brother’s life after accepting. The brother who had been in the succession struggle back then no longer existed now.
“It was also a decision that wronged those who have trusted and followed me until now.”
The stiffness in the Demon Buddha’s expression eased. Yes. Because Geom Mugeuk acknowledged what needed to be acknowledged and did not cling to useless stubbornness, he could offer him advice that came from the heart.
“It is not that there is no way at all.”
Geom Mugeuk looked at the Demon Buddha with shining eyes.
“Please tell me.”
As though he had already pondered it, the Demon Buddha spoke calmly.
“If there is a way, there is only one.”
“What is it?”
One word flowed once more from the Demon Buddha’s mouth.
“Legitimacy.”
When Geom Mugeuk had previously asked what he should do to prevent his father from unifying the murim, the Demon Buddha had given him the same advice.
“The Eldest Young Master needs legitimacy to inherit the Cult Leader’s seat.”
“Is there a way to create that legitimacy?”
He had asked without expecting much, but surprisingly, the Demon Buddha had an answer.
“There is. But it requires a condition.”
That condition was something Geom Mugeuk had not expected.
“You must become the Cult Leader.”
“!”
Geom Mugeuk waited for the Demon Buddha’s next words with a startled expression.
“If you hand over that seat without ever becoming the Cult Leader, that is merely yielding it. But if you become the Cult Leader, lead our cult, and then appoint the Eldest Young Master as your successor, that will be a formal succession.”
The Demon Buddha added calmly.
“Try leading our cult in your own way. While doing so, continue to entrust the Eldest Young Master with important duties—matters only the Cult Leader can entrust.”
His brother would probably handle those duties better than anyone.
“Through those matters, the Eldest Young Master will prove for himself what outstanding abilities he possesses. That will become his legitimacy to become Cult Leader.”
Because it was a matter related to his brother, the Demon Buddha advised him more earnestly than ever.
“Try it this way, try it that way. If it does not seem right, seek another method. As the years pass, you, the Eldest Young Master, and I—everyone’s thoughts will change.
Perhaps the worries you have now will be nothing by then. Perhaps you may be telling me, ‘If I had yielded the Cult Leader’s seat back then, I truly would have regretted it.’”
The last thing he said was this.
“There is a proper time even to run away. When fate opens the back door just a crack, that is when you run.”
Listening in silence, Geom Mugeuk recalled the conversation he had once had with the old man.
—You asked me how I would live, but my life from now on may disappoint you. I have used up almost all the admirable things I can do.
—There is no need to worry. The people around you, whom you made admirable, will lead you to become even more admirable.
Geom Mugeuk sprang to his feet and bowed respectfully to the Demon Buddha.
“You are right. Thank you.”
With wise and grateful teaching, the Demon Buddha had led him away from the wrong path and back to the right one.
“You have set both my life and my brother’s life straight. Today, you have landed two big catches.”
To that, he added one remark he simply could not hold back.
“If only you had caught them like this that day.”
The Demon Buddha, who had been wearing the smile of an enlightened monk, gently closed his eyes and turned his prayer beads with enough force to shatter them.
“When did they say the next tournament would be held?”
***
“Now, here is the list of supplies we need.”
Geom Muyang held out the documents to Gwak Yeong.
The place where they stood was Maga Village. Reconstruction work was in full swing there, and Geom Muyang was the overall supervisor of the project.
Gwak Yeong had come there on an errand from the Iron Workshop.
“Then I will see you again.”
Gwak Yeong bowed politely and turned around. Out of gladness, she wanted to make even a joking remark, but now that they had met at a place where he was working, she could not dare open her mouth.
Then Geom Muyang’s voice came from behind her.
“When will you give me the treasured sword you promised?”
Gwak Yeong turned back with a smile.
“At this rate, by the time I bring you the treasured sword I have made, you may have already forgotten me, Eldest Young Master.”
It was half a joke, but it was true that she worried about when on earth she would reach a position where she could make a treasured sword.
Even now, she was only making iron swords at the Iron Workshop. No matter how skilled a craftsman she was, her history of having surrendered from the Murim Alliance was holding her tightly by the ankle.
“Why do you think I would forget you?”
“Because you are a noble and busy person, Eldest Young Master.”
“Could it not be the opposite? You may become a famous artisan of the Iron Workshop, while I remain an unremarkable Eldest Young Master.”
Gwak Yeong smiled.
“Seeing you engage in self-deprecation that doesn’t suit you, it seems you need a friend to drink with. If you feel like drinking later, come to the Iron Workshop. I’ll buy you a cup!”
After bowing, Gwak Yeong had walked some distance away when she looked back at Geom Muyang and said,
“Of all the demonic practitioners I’ve seen, you are the smartest. Don’t forget that.”
After rattling off the words as if pouring them out, Gwak Yeong bounded away into the distance.
Geom Muyang, who had been watching her, turned around, only to find Geom Mugeuk standing behind him.
Seeing Geom Muyang start in surprise, Geom Mugeuk put on a displeased expression.
“Brother is the smartest? You saw me and still said something like that!”
If he responded to that, it was obvious Mugeuk would tease him about Gwak Yeong, so Geom Muyang changed the subject.
“When did you come down the mountain?”
“Earlier.”
“And Father?”
“He blamed me for coming up empty-handed on the hunt. Said next time the three of us should go together, with you too.”
Geom Muyang struggled to hide the smile that was about to form.
“Why did you come here?”
“I missed you so much I couldn’t stand it.”
“You say that to everyone you meet, don’t you?”
“You really are smart. Not as smart as me, though.”
Geom Muyang stared hard at Geom Mugeuk, then spoke seriously.
“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t even dream of it.”
As if he was not merely saying it, Geom Muyang’s eyes gleamed sharply, and firm resolve filled his tightly pressed lips.
“I shouldn’t have taken the inner core until the very end.”
He had taken it in a daze because of their father, but afterward, he regretted it.
“I know what you’re misunderstanding. Sorry, but you’re the one who shouldn’t dream of it. Do you know what I went through to claim this position?”
Geom Muyang looked at Geom Mugeuk suspiciously.
“This position I stole from you—I’m going to keep it until I die of old age. Don’t come begging me later to let you try it for just one day. Ah, I’ll let you sit in the Taishi chair once.”
Even at his younger brother’s joke, the suspicion still did not leave Geom Muyang’s stiff face.
“Then why did you give me the inner core?”
“I gave it to you for practical reasons. It’s more effective for you to have it than me. If the benefits gained from taking the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp’s inner core amount to ten, then, judging coldly, it would only be worth about two or three to me. But if it’s you, Brother, you can take all ten.”
It was not wrong. To begin with, Geom Mugeuk’s internal energy was so pure and vast that even adding the Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp’s inner core would not produce a particularly noticeable effect. Geom Muyang, however, was different.
Geom Muyang’s life now could be divided like this: before taking it, and after taking it.
Geom Mugeuk added an emotional reason to that rational calculation.
“You’re the one who’s going to become the cult leader in the future, Brother, so you need to be strong too. That way, wherever I go, I can say, ‘That man is my brother.’ This is because of my own vanity, so don’t be too grateful!”
“You’re certain?”
“I’m certain.”
Only then did Geom Muyang’s expression soften.
Seeing this brother of his, he thought anew that Mabul’s advice had been right.
“I’m sorry, Brother.”
“For what?”
For thinking only of myself and acting selfishly.
“I cursed you again when you weren’t around.”
Geom Muyang laughed as if dumbfounded, and Geom Mugeuk laughed along with him.
Geom Mugeuk’s gaze turned toward the site where construction was in full swing.
“They really are building it quickly.”
Because the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had mobilized an enormous amount of manpower and resources to build it with care, the structure was rising day by day.
Looking up at the building going up on the site of the Pungryu Tavern, Geom Mugeuk said,
“Our proprietor will be pleased.”