Chapter 492: Anxiety Must Be Tamed with Skill

TL: FoodieMonster007

Having finished speaking, Hwi drew his sword in a single motion.

The Death King collapsed backward, spewing blood. He had already died standing before he even hit the ground.

It was the moment of death for the Death King. Though currently just the head of the Hell Mansion, he would one day have become the king of assassins and occupied a seat among the Twelve Zodiac Kings.

Hwi didn't linger on his death, nor on the afterglow of the battle he had risked his life for.

SWISH.

After flicking the blood from his blade, Hwi sheathed it again. As if he had sent the last battle away with the flicked blood, he didn't even glance at the Death King's corpse.

He had finished the fight to kill and returned to being a person who protects.

Geom Mugeuk walked over to Hwi and spoke with a respectful bow. He said nothing else. At this moment, this was the only thing a bodyguard needed to hear.

"Thank you for protecting me."

Hwi stared at Geom Mugeuk for a moment without a word. He was the one who should be expressing gratitude.

If the Young Cult Leader hadn't unleashed the Nine Calamities Demonic Art when the Death King and his assassins had attacked, he would have died then.

The Young Cult Leader's help didn't end there. Throughout today's fight, he had fought with the mindset of protecting him. He was able to display his best skills when he had the will to protect someone.

Myeongjin was watching the two of them. The talkative Geom Mugeuk and the taciturn Hwi. They were two very different people, yet Myeongjin suddenly felt that they were similar.

Why did he think that?

Then, Myeongjin suddenly recalled the image of Geom Mugeuk standing before the dead assassins. He realized that his lonely appearance resembled the aura of this man named Hwi.

Myeongjin shared his feelings.

"Somehow, you two seem alike."

At Myeongjin's words, Geom Mugeuk joked playfully.

"The mister and I have a lot in common. We're handsome, cool, and taciturn."

Hwi smiled faintly, while Myeongjin made a face of disbelief at the word "taciturn." In this pleasant atmosphere, the three of them exchanged glances.

Hwi's gaze toward Myeongjin had also softened compared to before the fight. He still disliked assassins, but for today at least, they were comrades who had risked their lives together.

Geom Mugeuk checked on Hwi's condition.

"But are your injuries okay?"

He knew Hwi had avoided serious wounds, but his body was covered in blood.

"I'm fine. Fortunately, they're just skin-deep cuts."

Hwi opened the front of his clothes.

"I was able to fight more aggressively because of this, which the Young Cult Leader gave me."

It wasn't as if he had defeated the Death King solely because of the Top-Quality Heavenly Silk, but Hwi gave the credit to Geom Mugeuk anyway.

This was the kind of person Hwi was. A life of giving credit to others while quietly protecting someone from the shadows. That life had killed the Death King today.

"You were amazing today, mister."

Hwi smiled faintly. Geom Mugeuk wanted to praise him to his heart's content today, but Hwi seemed awkward with this kind of atmosphere.

So Hwi quickly changed the subject.

"I'll leave the cleanup here to this Branch."

"Please do."

Now Myeongjin asked Geom Mugeuk.

"What should I do?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

Because it's up to you. It was a situation where he would have to become a subordinate if told, or die if ordered. Of course, that was a thought born from not yet knowing the man named Geom Mugeuk well.

"You should live your own life now."

Myeongjin paused for a moment before asking cautiously.

"Is it really okay for me to leave just like this?"

Geom Mugeuk nodded. Myeongjin could feel it. Geom Mugeuk was sincerely trying to give him his freedom.

Then, a single sentence escaped his lips, almost like a monologue.

"What am I supposed to do with my life now?"

It was a question directed at himself, not Geom Mugeuk.

Geom Mugeuk regarded that feeling of helplessness as a joy.

"Isn't this the best time? Right now, when nothing is decided. It's best when you're choosing an item, and best when you're making a plan. So, savor this moment."

You really are something. Myeongjin didn't know how many times he had said or thought this about Geom Mugeuk.

Myeongjin revealed his honest feelings to Geom Mugeuk.

"You said it, didn't you? That it would be nice if there was at least one cool assassin somewhere in this world who would kill a villain for a single coin offered by a kid who lost their parents unfairly. But you saw me wrong. I'm not a big-hearted person who takes on a job for a single coin. I set principles for my killings, but even then, I was greedy for money."

Geom Mugeuk looked at him with clear, deep eyes.

But the future you lived such a life. Then again, I can't guarantee you'll live that same life again in this lifetime. That was his life before the regression, and in this life, he was a different person. In this life, we were clearly living different lives.

"Decide how you'll live slowly."

"I've already decided."

Geom Mugeuk asked in surprise.

"Can you decide something so important this easily?"

"That's why. It's too important, so I won't be able to find the right answer no matter how much I think about it. Thinking too long just leads to a bad move. In times like these, the first thought that comes to mind is often the right answer."

That was what Myeongjin thought. He had lived his entire life as an assassin, what other kind of life could he live? Open an inn and live a carefree life? He'd probably just get frustrated dealing with difficult customers.

"I'm thinking of running a small smithy."

Making various weapons and devices was something he truly loved.

"That suits you well."

Perhaps the act of resolving injustices for a price will happen at that smithy. Geom Mugeuk pictured him working in a small smithy. Fate wouldn't just leave a man who had been through such turmoil alone. Perhaps a single coin…

"If, by any chance, a day comes when you're hammering away at some iron and suddenly think, 'this isn't it,' then go and find Master Gwak at our Cult's smithy. If you tell him I sent you, he'll meet you. He'll be able to give you an answer, whether it's about weariness with your work or weariness with your life."

At Geom Mugeuk's consideration, Myeongjin's eyes shone intensely.

"Why are you being so good to me?"

"It's not just for you. Seeing your skills will surely stimulate our Master Gwak as well. Then wouldn't that be a good thing for both of you, and for our Cult?"

He said that, but Myeongjin could feel it. It was a gesture for his sake. He didn't say he wouldn't forget the favor. That was always a matter to be answered with actions.

"I'll send you some good items I make from time to time."

"Well, we're the type who never refuses a gift. I'll accept it gratefully."

The two men looked at each other and smiled.

Myeongjin performed a respectful clasped hands greeting. His final farewell was very polite.

"I believe the Young Cult Leader will become a Heavenly Demon the likes of which this murim has never seen again. I pray you achieve your grand ambition."

At his sincere farewell, Geom Mugeuk also returned a polite bow. He had lived his entire life bound to an organization.

"May you live freely."

Myeongjin nodded and then bowed politely to Hwi as well.

"Meeting you, I've learned that a life of protecting is far more difficult and valuable than a life of killing."

Hwi also sent him off with a respectful clasped hands greeting.

"Live well, wherever you are."

And with that, Myeongjin left the place.

Geom Mugeuk watched until his figure had completely disappeared.

"Watching someone start a new life… it feels good just to see it."

Hwi could feel a certain longing in Geom Mugeuk's eyes. A feeling that perhaps this Young Cult Leader, more than anyone, desperately wished for such a free life.

Geom Mugeuk turned his head toward Hwi. The longing that had filled his eyes a moment ago was gone.

"Uncle, let's head back too."

Geom Mugeuk and Hwi walked away from that place, shoulder to shoulder.

Father was in his quarters at the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult safehouse, making something.

His back was turned, and he was so engrossed in his work that I couldn't bring myself to offer an unorthodox greeting.

"Don't tell me? Are you making a weapon that can conquer the murim?"

That was almost the atmosphere.

Then, my father turned to face me. Seeing what was in his hands, I burst out laughing.

"Nope. You're trying to conquer the fish."

What he was making was a fishing rod. I had beaten my father twice in our fishing duels on the way to Shaanxi.

We had agreed to have another match on the way back, and it seemed he was already preparing for it. Father had naturally believed that we would return safely.

"I'm back, Father."

"I have returned from my mission, Cult Leader."

As we gave our formal greetings, my father attended to Hwi before his own son.

"You're injured."

Hwi had changed out of his blood-stained martial arts uniform before entering, but my father had noticed at a glance.

"They're all just scratches."

I couldn't just let his worried gaze toward Hwi pass. I raised my hand high toward my father.

"Your son's here too! I might've got invisible internal injuries!"

Father ignored my words and rose from his seat, walking to one of the walls. He then searched for something in a leather pouch hanging there.

Father usually retrieved items with telekinesis, so what could it be that he was searching for by hand?

What my father brought from the pouch and offered to Hwi was a small, pure white bottle.

"Apply this."

It was the wound salve used by the Heavenly Demon himself. Naturally, its efficacy was incomparable to ordinary salves.

"Apply it."

"I can't. I dare not apply the Cult Leader's medicine."

At my father's firm word, Hwi could no longer refuse.

"Thank you."

Father's gaze was deep as he watched Hwi bow his head. The fact that Hwi was this injured told my father just how fierce the battle had been.

"Father! I have a cut too!"

Then, my father gave a contemptuous laugh and held out his hand. The leather pouch opened on its own, and this time a different bottle flew out and shot toward me.

"That's the most half-hearted telekinesis I've ever seen."

That wasn't all. After checking the medicine bottle, I shouted.

"This is too much! This is a wound salve I already have!"

The one he gave Hwi was the highest quality, exclusive to the Heavenly Demon, while this was a lower-grade wound salve.

Hwi, whose eyes met mine, bowed his head with a helpless expression.

"Take it or leave it."

When my father held out his hand to take it back, I quickly tucked it into my robes.

"Still, it's the first wound salve my father has given me, so I should apply it. I'll use it for a long, long time."

Father stood up from his seat.

"You let that man get hurt, so you must be punished, right? Follow me."

If you're going to put Hwi in front, you're responsible for protecting him. You've broken that promise.

"It's a misunderstanding. I tried my best not to get hurt because I was worried the mister's heart would ache if I did! Of course, I might have been the only one trying my best! Father!"

Father took me to a deserted, open area near the safehouse. He drew his sword there and said.

"From now on, you shouldn't create situations where you need to apply medicine."

I could tell. He intended to teach me a lesson through a duel. It wasn't a punishment, but a reward. A reward for both of us returning safely, and his way of expressing joy.

Thank you, Father.

I stood about ten paces away from my father. And today's duel was different.

Father revealed no aura whatsoever. But despite that, there was an energy that dominated the space. It was the energy of the Heavenly Demon Sword.

It seemed my father wanted me to feel only the energy of the sword.

In that case?

I, too, withdrew all of my aura. I tried not to reveal even a wisp of energy, not even the slightest presence, as I slowly drew the Black Demon Sword.

The palpable energy of the Heavenly Demon Sword.

The palpable energy of the Black Demon Sword.

It had been a very long time since I had focused solely on feeling the energy of the Black Demon Sword like this.

Come to think of it, I've been too neglectful.

Learning the Nine Calamities Demonic Art, using the Heavenly Space Secret Art, increasing my inner arts. I had been so focused on other things that I had neglected the Black Demon Sword.

I suddenly remembered when I first met Lee Ahn after my regression. I had a similar reflection back then.

I had taken her existence for granted. Just like how people live without knowing how precious air is.

It was the same. I had been fighting enemies with this Black Demon Sword all this time, but instead of gratitude, I had taken it for granted.

"I am this foolish. Thank you so much for your teachings, Father."

A faint smile appeared on my father's lips. It was clearly a smile of satisfaction. In this way, my father constantly gives me teachings and stimulation.

And today's lesson was not just that.

"Unleash the Nine Calamities Demonic Art."

I unleashed the Nine Calamities Demonic Art in front of my father. I did my best, not hiding my achievements.

Father needed to know my exact skill level. I hoped that it would, in turn, become a driving force to stimulate him again.

Father, how different has my Nine Calamities Demonic Art become from your Nine Calamities Demonic Art?

After seeing my Nine Calamities Demonic Art, my father once again expounded on the oral formulas of the Nine Calamities Demonic Art.

It felt like my skills improved with every word we exchanged. It was probably because my level of mastery had changed, and my father's level of mastery had changed. Even the same words felt different. Truly, questioning and answering with my father, thinking, and trying again. By the time that round of training was over, it was already deep into the night.

For a moment, my father and I looked up at the brightly shining moon together.

Then, my father suddenly asked.

"What is it that makes you anxious?"

It was the first time he had asked me that question. It seemed he had read the deep-seated anxiety within his son after seeing the changes in me since my regression.

"You gave birth to a perfect son, but I have just one anxiety."

"What kind of anxiety?"

"It's an anxiety that a great evil, jealous of you and me, will try to devour us."

Father wore an expression of incomprehension.

"Didn't you say that we are the only ones who can devour that evil?"

Father remembered exactly what I had said about the demonic path.

"I suppose I'm afraid we'll meet a foe too big to swallow."

What would my father think of this anxiety?

After staring at me for a moment, my father stood up and drew his sword.

"Then we must make our mouths and stomachs bigger."

This simple and clear answer also defined the path I must take from now on in a single sentence. Yes, anxiety must be filled with skill.

I opened my mouth wide and shot to my feet.

"Yes! No matter how big it is, I'll swallow it whole."

And so, my martial arts training with my father continued through the night. The moon that had been watching us set, and the dawn stars took its place. Then, when even the stars retreated, the morning light took their place.

As a bright yet reddish energy awakened the earth, a man's shadow stretched long. Throughout the training, one person had stood alone with his back turned, protecting us.