Chapter 83: Like Two Meteors Met

TL: FoodieMonster007

Two days later, the Heavenly Wind Cult Leader and all his subordinates departed from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

He bid farewell to the Heavenly Demon but offered no greetings to the Eight Demon Supremes.

The demonic practitioners whispered about it, guessing he returned in anger because the sacred object was stolen.

Only we knew the real reason for his abrupt departure.

"The Cult Leader is an impatient man. He'll sort out the Heavenly Wind Cult and return as fast as he can."

He had already discussed everything with Go Wol, from who would become the next Heavenly Wind Cult Leader to how to organize their internal affairs.

"Thank you so much for accepting my proposal."

"I should be thanking you. Because of you, a great master like the Heavenly Wind Cult Leader is now my ally."

"Didn't you see how fat he got from lazing around instead of training? He'll need proper training when he gets back."

"You should be the one to do it. Who else could say something like that to the supreme master of the Outer Regions?"

"Please, leave it to me."

We had truly accomplished something immense. We gained an outstanding strategist like Go Wol and an absolute master like the Heavenly Wind Cult Leader. The Heavenly Wind Cult Leader may have been pushed around during his visit, but he is still the strongest in the Outer Regions. Fights between masters have too many variables to be certain, but I doubt a single Demon Supreme would be confident in defeating him.

"Listen, Strategist Go."

"Yes, Young Lord."

"I know a strategist's job is to look into others. Still, you should take care of yourself whenever you have a moment."

I told him to take care of himself, not to look into himself. The clever Go Wol would understand my hidden meaning without needing a lecture.

"The Young Lord is a very warm and kind person."

"I hear that a lot. It's proof I'm a good actor."

Go Wol didn't believe me.

"I'll cover for the weaknesses that come with that kindness."

"Take your time. It's okay."

"……"

"I'll be gone for a bit. I've been neglecting my own people while taking care of you, so it's time I looked after them."

"I will see you off."

I headed straight for the Heavenly Demon Hall. Taking care of people starts from the top.

Father was in the training hall.

He usually tested me with a surprise attack whenever I entered, but today he just stood in the center, looking down at a Go board.

"You play Go, too?"

I knew my father liked Go, but I had never seen him play it himself.

"Few in our Cult can beat me."

"At Go, you mean?"

"Of course."

"Isn't it because you slice a hand across your throat when the game turns against you? Then Uncle Hwi stealthily appears behind your opponent and… stab."

"Sometimes. A match is meant to be won."

I laughed at my father's joke and walked to his side. I knew his skill in Go. It wasn't as great as he claimed, just average. He likely won so much because people let him. It was a classic case of everyone playing down to the Heavenly Demon's level.

"Strategist Sama gave me this problem, but I can't find the answer."

It was a difficult life-and-death problem.

I quietly examined the problem, then spoke to my father.

"If you place a stone here, the white group lives, doesn't it?"

At least when it came to Go, I was better than my father. He confirmed my answer was correct and looked surprised.

"Not bad."

"Isn't it always the kibitzer who sees things better?"

"Kibitzing? I was solving the problem myself."

"But you had an opponent, didn't you?"

"……"

"Your pride. Your competitive spirit, insisting you solve this problem. That's your opponent, sitting right there."

Father snorted and sat before the Go board.

"You sit there. Let's play a game."

"Alright, but no slicing your hand across your neck if you start losing."

I played Go with my father.

First hunting, then a meal, and now Go. I was doing things I never could have dreamed of before my regression.

I focused only on the game, not saying a word. CLACK, CLACK. The sound of the stones was crisp in the silence.

It was nothing special, just a father and son playing Go. How had we never managed to do something so simple? Why was I always so terrified just looking at my father's face?

The good thing about Go is that no words are needed until the end.

Still, so much happened on the board. I built my territory, and my father built his. I invaded his territory, and at other times, my stones became a troubled group he chased. Sometimes I yielded, and other times I made bold moves.

Though I enjoyed the game immensely, I played to the best of my ability. Father was the incarnation of competitiveness, so I didn't go easy on him. If he even sensed me holding back, the outcome would be worse than if I had won by a landslide.

As the game turned against him, my father stroked his chin. It was the first time I had ever seen him contemplate something so seriously. I felt his gaze on the war board during a conflict with the Murim Alliance wouldn't even be this intense.

I barely suppressed a quip. If I said it, my father might just flip the board.

Does my father want to slice his hand across his neck right now?

Of course, that didn't happen.

The game ended. I won by six and a half points.

"You play a vicious, combative game, just like the Heavenly Demon. I barely won."

"When did you learn Go?"

"I learned in my spare time, after I heard you were learning from Strategist Sama, and I'd welcome a rematch anytime."

Father saw my triumphant look and extended his hand over the Go board.

CHWARRRRR.

The Go stones floated into the air. White and black stones crossed paths rapidly, returning to their containers with a splendid, show-like movement. They looked alive, as if finding their own way home.

"Ah!"

I was genuinely impressed. That single move seemed to say, This is the final stage of telekinesis. Understand?

That technique alone deflated my ego, but it wasn't enough for my father.

"I can't let you leave after I've lost. Let's have a duel."

"That's too much. I was planning to savor this victory and walk proudly out of the Heavenly Demon Hall for once."

"If you've been neglecting your martial arts, you won't be walking out of here."

He meant he would be rough. It seemed like he was taking out his anger for losing at Go, but that wasn't it.

I knew the real reason. He was angry about the Heavenly Wind Cult Leader. This was a reprimand for interacting with him and accepting his strategist, knowing my father kept the Heavenly Wind Cult at a distance.

They say facing the Demonic Buddha is a great cause, so surely he won't kill me, right?

"You'd better pray the house you built isn't a prison."

I have another dueling partner eagerly waiting for me. Of course, one duel with my father is more beneficial than ten with the Flower Sword Supreme.

When my father drew the Heavenly Demon Sword, the air grew heavy. A formless energy pressed down on me, not sharp or piercing, but like a giant boulder crushing me from all sides.

I drew the Black Demon Sword and activated the Heavenly Demon Defense Art.

I withstood the initial pressure without changing my expression. Father's energy intensified.

I pushed the Heavenly Demon Defense Art even further. It had reached a considerable level after my experience with selflessness, and it held up well again.

Then, my father's energy filled with killing intent.

It was the first time I had directly felt my father's killing intent. It was chilling precisely because it wasn't obvious.

Death had settled somewhere on my body, as light as a butterfly, a chilling sensation because I didn't know where it had landed. I felt the horror of searching for that killing intent, only to realize I was already plunged into a sea of it, helpless. Father's killing intent was a collection of all these negative emotions.

I didn't oppose my father's killing intent. I simply felt it and accepted it. Amidst the terrible fear and helplessness, I tried to hold onto myself. I focused not on the fear, but on the 'me' that was feeling the fear.

Enduring without resisting.

Sometimes, simply enduring can put immense pressure on an opponent.

Sure enough, my father was startled. I felt his surprise completely.

Has your realm truly reached this level?

The moment I read that emotion in his eyes, my father rushed toward me.

Father charged with the Hell Step, and I met him with the Hell Step. I didn't avoid him. I charged straight toward him.

"……"

We crossed past each other, leaving only a cold, metallic sound.

We turned simultaneously at each other's starting points.

The Black Demon Sword in my hand trembled faintly from the aftershock. Father's Heavenly Demon Sword trembled as well. I wouldn't have seen it in the past, but the Divine Eye Technique let me see every minute tremor.

I wonder if my father's wrist hurts as much as mine.

"I thought you were just running around playing politics, but you're quite something."

"Aren't love affairs and martial arts training supposed to be done out of sight? I'm training diligently," I replied.

I truly was dedicating myself to training, even cutting back on sleep.

In fact, my body wouldn't let me stop training. The powerful inner arts in my qi center yearned to be unleashed, and the Four Strides of the Wind God longed to fight a strong opponent. The Soaring Sky Sword Art was moving beyond complete mastery toward a new realm, and my eyes had improved with the Divine Eye Technique.

"Then let's see if you can block this, too."

The moment he finished speaking, my father vanished. I disappeared at the same time. I used the Shadow Step, just like him. Today, I would be a copycat.

We reappeared in a corner of the training ground, our swords clashing in mid-air.

Our stances were identical, as if performed by twins.

Beyond our crossed swords, a flicker of joy crossed my father's face. It was fleeting, but it was unmistakably the joy of meeting a strong opponent.

I understand the loneliness of the absolute, but still, Father. I'm your son, not your enemy.

The moment our swords separated, the Heavenly Demon Sword and the Black Demon Sword embroidered the air.

We unleashed the Equal Sky Strike at each other.

The pure white sword light from our blades bisected the empty space.

Like two meteors meeting in the night sky, the streaks of light met and vanished. It was a brief, beautiful sight.

Next, we simultaneously unleashed the Erratic Sky Strike.

Twelve changes filled the air, coming from both the Heavenly Demon Sword and the Black Demon Sword.

If one was brilliant, the other was brilliant. If one was heavy, the other was heavy. If one was fast, the other was fast. Change met change and was nullified.

Our attacks were identical. It was like drawing on one side of a piece of paper with ink, then folding it in half to create a perfect mirror image.

Thankfully, my father accepted my mimicry and launched no unconventional attacks.

The next attack was the Fourth Technique, the Burning Sky Strike.

A powerful sword qi swept through the training ground. When the two energies collided, the hall shook violently. A little more inner art, and it would have collapsed.

"That's enough!"

Father stopped the duel. He must have judged the subsequent techniques too dangerous, which meant I had grown that much stronger.

Father probably thought I couldn't surprise him anymore, but today was different.

"Your skills have improved a lot."

Father used the words 'a lot'. That was high praise, meaning my skills had improved tremendously.

"Then that's settled."

That single phrase contained his forgiveness.

He had intended to scold me harshly for neglecting my training because of the Heavenly Wind Cult, but he forgave me after seeing my improvement.

In the end, it was a reward, not a punishment. A duel like this with my father was priceless.

If I were to ask my father, "How much would it cost? How much for a proper fight?" I could die, even as his son.

I learned a great deal while executing the same techniques. To a third party, they would have looked identical, but I could feel the difference. A true master can feel those subtle differences.

Today, I felt I had vaguely figured out the path to the twelfth-stage mastery of the Soaring Sky Sword Art.

"Aren't you hungry? Your son will buy you a meal today. Let's go eat in the Demon Village."

I hadn't heard of my father going to the Demon Village recently, so I fully expected him to refuse.

"Let's go."

I was startled by his unexpected permission.

"Are you really going?"

"Were you just saying it?"

"Of course not. Let's go!"

Father changed into a plain martial arts uniform and put on a bamboo hat to cover his face. An official procession would cause an uproar in the Demon Village.

And so, I left Headquarters with my father. It was our first trip to the Demon Village together.