Chapter 82

“Junior.”

“Yes.”

Gwang-shin, who was gazing at the night sky with Dan-woo-seong, posed a question.

“Why were we born to live such lives?”

Danwooseong sighed. Come to think of it, we don’t even know why we were born. Moreover, Danwooseong had more to his story. Hadn’t he been reincarnated?

Danwooseong replied.

“Can we find the answer while we’re alive? I suppose we’ll only know after we die.”

“Is that so.”

Kwangshin’s constant refrain was always this.

Danwooseong said.

“Just as we cannot take our own lives simply because we are curious about it, we can only live on with resilience.”

Kwang-shin retorted.

“You old fool.”

“Senior.”

“Hm?”

Danwooseong also asked a question.

“What must I do to become stronger?”

Danwooseong’s question was always this. It was something he had always wanted to ask Samshin.

“You are already strong enough. How much stronger do you expect to become at your age? Would you be satisfied if you became as powerful as the Heavenly Demon our Three Gods fought? Or do you mean to become as powerful as Lord Mujin or Lord Sohan? To grow stronger, you need a reason.”

“A reason?”

You’ve grown as strong as your story. And so have I. Was it simply my talent for martial arts that made me one of the Three Gods? That can’t be. What propelled me to the Three Gods was my story. It was because of my twin children, who became stars before they could even be born, and because of my wife. What meaning could life hold, even if I grew stronger through such a story? I died long ago. Now I’m merely living out the remainder of my life. How could I have grown strong through training alone? I’m stubborn. I lived to keep my vow, and this is how I ended up. You ask me how to grow strong? It’s absurd. It depends on your story. No one else will know the answer.”

The idea that a martial artist grows stronger because of their story was something even the experienced Danwooseong had never heard before.

At the calm words of Gwangshin, Danwooseong gazed at the stars densely packed in the sky.

“Did both Lord Sohwan and Lord Mujin grow stronger because of their personal circumstances?”

Of course, that must be it. Even the Celestial Demon had his own story. The reappeared Demon Cultists each have their own tales too. But we merely compete for supremacy. What troubles me is this: I am a man who grew strong solely by leaning on my own story. The Demon Cultists, however, are those who constantly disregard even the lives of children and the weak. So what was the outcome? The Heavenly Demon was stronger than me, yet in the end, didn’t his limbs end up torn apart by my hands? This too is the story of the White Path. If those foolish and arrogant ones wish to walk the Heavenly Demon’s path again, I will teach them once more. That’s why the man called Fanatic is still alive.”

Danwooseong deeply sympathized with Gwangshin’s thoughts. How could this be called the god of stubbornness and the king of narrow-mindedness? It was merely a nickname gained for rejecting the ordinary.

Gwangshin added these words.

“That is also the reason you are alive.”

This madman was speaking near the truth about why Dan Wooseong had been reincarnated. Just as Gwangshin lived, Dan Wooseong’s reincarnation seemed to be the will of heaven.

From Dan Woosung’s perspective, it felt like they were having a conversation where they laid their hearts bare to each other for the first time in ages.

His chest felt as refreshed as the cool night air.

Kwangshin was lost in thought, then abruptly blurted out mid-thought.

“Since you and I have met, let’s create a new story. Can you become stronger? Or can I become stronger by meeting you? That too will become our story. Whatever it becomes, I don’t care. Aren’t you Baekdo’s junior? The King of Fists wouldn’t have taken a worthless fool as his disciple.”

Dan Wooseong wore a calm smile.

“That is correct.”

Kwang-shin stood up and stared blankly at the corpses.

“Leave it like this and it will rot. Beasts will eat the rotten flesh, and when people consume those beasts, that is the beginning of plague. It must be destroyed. There is no need for courtesy toward the corpses of the wicked.”

Kwangshin raised one hand and looked at Danwooseong.

“Be careful.”

“Yes.”

Danwooseong moved away from Gwangshin. Yet, his curiosity about Gwangshin’s martial prowess compelled him to watch.

Light gathered in Gwangshin’s palm. It soon formed a sphere, and upon it, the starlight Gwangshin had been staring at flickered.

The Divine Power of the Star River was a unique martial art created by Gwangshin. It was a peculiar martial art born from the worries and anxieties that surged when gazing at the night sky. Furthermore, since it was created after he was called the Three Gods, it was also the first martial art Danwooseong witnessed, excluding Gwangshin.

Kwangshin formed the Demon-Slaying First Style, the Sky-Shattering Sphere, in his hand.

The moment he threw the Pacheon-gu to the ground, he lifted his body slightly and extended his right hand. Immediately, the shockwave from the Pacheon-gu he had created sent Gwangshin flying backward.

Pushing the shockwave away with one hand, Gwangshin instantly flew toward Danwooseong’s position.

Dan Woo-sung looked up at the night sky.

The massive shockwave erupted into the night sky the moment it struck the ground. The martial power unleashed by the fanaticism was so intense it momentarily lit up the night sky.

The Pacheon-gu, falling onto the spot littered with corpses, obliterated everything at its center with a deafening roar.

Moments later, a massive circular crater gouged out of the ground.

Danwoo Seong shook his head, his mouth slightly agape.

‘Ah, truly a catastrophe.’

He wasn’t the pinnacle of the White Path for nothing. Kwangshin approached Danwooseong and said.

“Come up. I’ll give you a set of clothes.”

“Yes.”

Danwooseong’s upper garment was completely torn to shreds. The two men ascended to Kwangshin’s quarters.

Kwang-shin spoke as if launching a surprise attack.

“The latecomer will prepare the meal.”

“Huh?”

“I’m hungry, you bastard.”

Kwang-shin’s figure shot like an arrow toward the mountain peak. Dan Woo-seong had no time to respond; he immediately pursued Kwang-shin, deploying his lightness skill. It was utterly ridiculous. Preparing a meal was something Dan Woo-seong, as the junior, could naturally handle.

Of course, it wouldn’t be tasty.

.

.

.

Dan Wooseong stood gazing at the kitchen hearth, clad in the ashen-gray tunic and long robe Gwangshin had given him.

His expression was sour. The old man’s lightness technique was incredibly fast, and he had lost by the narrowest of margins, so he couldn’t feel good about it. He couldn’t make up the gap from when they started.

And so, the Kwonwang boiled noodles.

Even back in the Kwonwang era, the Three Sages were elders far older than him. They were even seniors to the leader Yu Jeonghong, so it was perfectly natural for Dan Wooseong to boil noodles here, sweep the courtyard, mop the floors, and dust.

Lifting a strand of noodles with his chopsticks, Dan Woo-sung finally understood the meaning behind Gwang-shin’s other nickname.

‘Master of Forced Persuasion.’

Kwang-shin was Kwang-shin.

A short while later, Danwooseong, who had boiled noodles using ingredients from the kitchen, placed two bowls of noodles on Gwangshin’s table.

“Eat up, senior.”

Gwang-shin, who had returned wearing freshly laundered clothes, stood with his hands behind his back, staring at the noodles.

“Is it good?”

“I don’t know.”

Kwang-shin gave a hearty laugh. Having a guest after so long made him more excited than usual.

“You want me to eat something when I don’t even know if it tastes good or not?”

“No, Senior…”

The one who used to lecture me on life while gazing at the night sky and stars—where on earth did he go? Danwooseong swallowed those words and held out his hand.

“Eat first.”

“Alright.”

Kwang-shin grabbed his chopsticks and began eating the noodles. After moving about two servings of noodles, Kwang-shin set his chopsticks down again. Dan Woo-sung asked.

“Shall we try again?”

Gwang-shin shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just go hungry.”

Kwang-shin crossed his arms, looked at the noodles, and shook his head slightly. Dan Woo-sung then spoke while eating the noodles alone.

“Starve then. Fine. I’ll eat it all.”

Dan Wooseong ate his noodles under Kwangshin’s piercing glare. Both Kwangshin and Dan Wooseong were equally foul-tempered. Strangely enough, Dan Wooseong was utterly incapable of saying or doing anything to please others. Even if the other person was Kwangshin.

There was a certain chemistry between people.

When Dan Woo-sung acted like this, Gwang-shin actually felt more at ease. He’d only ever seen people fidgeting and acting flustered around him until now.

Danwooseong slurped up the noodles like a glutton and said to Gwangshin.

“Senior, could you teach me that martial art you used to dispose of those corpses earlier?”

Kwang-shin retorted.

“You madman, talking like you’re demanding back something you entrusted to me. You don’t need to learn it. It’s a martial art that only causes harm to allies with its noise. I learned it as a hobby.”

“What is the name of this martial art?”

“It’s called the Holy Divine Palm.”

“I’ll teach you the Hundred Battles Ten-Segments Technique.”

“No need. My attacks aren’t lacking.”

“Then I’ll teach you the Black Bullet Rebound Technique.”

“Not interested. I have plenty of self-defense techniques myself.”

Dan Woo-sung slurped his soup before speaking.

“I will teach you the Flower Transfer Divine Technique.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the Empty Space Grasping Technique.”

Kwang-shin stretched out his hand, plucked a rag lying far away using the technique, and waved it right before Dan Woo-sung’s eyes.

“Is this what you mean?”

“You’re quite skilled.”

“Is that all? I’d expect more techniques from a disciple of the Kwon King.”

“End? Not at all. There’s still martial arts.”

“How could your hand techniques possibly block my Pacheon-gu?”

“What about the Mind-Splitting Palm?”

“To become the world’s greatest martial artist, wielding different techniques in each hand is the absolute foundation.”

“Well, that’s true. In that case, I’ll teach you the Lonely Nine Swords.”

“Don’t try to trick me.”

“Yes.”

Kwang-shin burst out laughing here.

“Hahahahahaha······.”

After laughing for a while, Gwangshin looked at the noodles and said.

“What? You finished it all?”

“Yes.”

“Bring it back to a boil. The broth was too clear. Open the container and you’ll find wild ginseng inside.”

“What wild ginseng in noodles?”

“Then why would I insist on staying at Cheongyak Mountain? This place is a wild ginseng field. Lingzhi mushrooms grow here too, and the peaches are different from elsewhere. Even the animals living on Cheongyak Mountain eat the elixir, making the ingredients incomparably superior to anywhere else. Do you think my white hair just disappeared and black hair started growing back for no reason?”

Dan Woo-sung crossed his arms and stared at Gwang-shin.

“So you’ve monopolized Cheongyak Mountain.”

Remember this too. It’s not just about consuming the elixir called the best; it’s about consuming an entire mountain. Of course, not to the point of ruin, but by living together and taking what you need. First, breathe in the mountain’s air. Then the mountain’s water, the grass grown by that water, the animals raised on that grass, the soil fertilized by their droppings, and finally, the inevitable elixir born from that soil or nature’s harmony. It’s not solved by simply taking one elixir. It’s about breathing with the mountain and consuming the entire mountain. The crucial point is that my presence must not disrupt the mountain’s harmony. So one meal a day is enough. Go and reboil the noodles. Your cooking skills are hopeless.”

Dan Woo-sung grinned.

It was an utterly absurd yet compelling method.

No one could have predicted that Kwang-shin would become this strong.

Dan Woo-sung said as he went to boil the wild ginseng noodles.

“Senior, it wasn’t Gwangshin—it was the Mountain Spirit.”

“Most elixirs are found in the mountains. It’s even more ridiculous for those who don’t understand the mountains to consume them. And only by knowing the mountains can one discover elixirs unknown to the world. You take the martial world too lightly.”

Dan Woo-sung retorted as he headed to the kitchen.

“Hmm, Senior. I’ve learned a thing or two.”

He meant it. Most of the teaching was contained within that conversation. The specific martial arts techniques—whether it was the Holy Divine Palm or the Hundred Battles, Ten Deaths Palm—weren’t what mattered.

Kwang-shin peered into the noodle strainer while waiting for his wild ginseng noodles.

After unleashing his martial arts, his skin felt smoother. Anyway, he felt fortunate that this junior he visited this time was a quick learner.

He did have a cocky side, reminiscent of his own youth, but there was absolutely no reason to turn him away at the door.

Kwang-shin suddenly burst out laughing, lost in thought.

Good heavens, who’d have thought someone would teach martial arts to a fanatic? Anyway, I figured that guy wasn’t just moderately insane either.

He was utterly insane.

ⓒ Yoo Jin-seong