Chapter 97 - Waves

At the Taoist Sage of Heaven's words, Jong Jihang tightened his left hand around the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword. Then he answered in a weighty voice.

"Gone. My master..."

Had he been unable to think of the words “passed away”? Jong Jihang's choice of words was very different from most people's.

But that was enough for the Taoist Sage of Heaven to understand.

"May we unite with the empty Tao above. I see... Well, both the Solitary Sword and I are nearly due to return to our roots."

The Taoist Sage of Heaven recited the Taoist invocation again, seemingly with regret. Yet just what he regretted was difficult to tell. Was he saddened by the man's death, or by the loss of an expert who could stand against the Heavenly Demon Castle?

Their gazes briefly met in midair. Only then did the Taoist Sage of Heaven notice how clear the other's eyes were. They were as transparent as a thousand-year-old lake, so utterly clear that its depth could not be fathomed. His white eyebrows twitched slightly.

"Do you know why I summoned your late master here?"

Once again, Jong Jihang merely waited for his answer without replying. He knew perfectly well that the question was not meant to elicit a response.

The Taoist Sage of Heaven thought it must be a Jongnam trait. The Solitary Sword he had met long ago, now only a hazy memory, had been just as taciturn. No, it would be more accurate to say that words had been unnecessary. If this young man had inherited everything from him, it was only natural that he should turn out this way...

"I called him here to lift the Closing of the Gates imposed on Jongnam. Of course, you could hardly be sitting here unless it had already been lifted..."

To be precise, Jongnam's Closing of the Gates had been lifted the moment the Taoist Sage of Heaven sent the Murim Tablet. He had several reasons for sending it all the way to Mount Jongnam, the foremost being to bring the Solitary Sword of Jongnam to the Murim Alliance.

Jong Jihang had never figured in that plan. That made him an uninvited guest who was not quite uninvited. He had not been personally invited, yet he had come in the invited man's stead.

The Taoist Sage of Heaven could not yet reach any conclusions about Jong Jihang. Those transparent eyes told him nothing of substance...

Then Jong Jihang, who had been sitting quietly, opened his mouth.

"The gates... were never... closed... Jongnam... was merely... lying low... exercising restraint... of its own accord..."

It was an exceedingly arrogant statement. All the more so when the current Murim Alliance Leader, the very man who had imposed the Closing of the Gates, was personally lifting it. His white eyebrows twitched again, but the movement soon subsided. Raising a hand, he gently stroked the white beard that reached his chest.

"Then surely you had no particular reason to come to the Murim Alliance?"

"His dying... instruction. My master's..."

He had come to the Murim Alliance to honor the Solitary Sword's dying instruction... And he was the Solitary Sword's disciple, at that...

In truth, the Taoist Sage of Heaven had expected little even as he sent the missive to the Solitary Sword of Jongnam. Here was a man who had already forgotten the sword, whom Murim had forgotten long ago, and whose every debt of gratitude and grudge had been sealed away.

The Taoist Sage of Heaven touched his lips to his teacup, though it was already empty, and spoke again.

"What do you intend to do now?"

He was asking what the Solitary Sword's last wishes had been. The man he knew would never have ended things by simply sending his disciple to the Murim Alliance.

The dignity of his office prevented him from asking outright, so he had to approach the matter indirectly.

For the briefest moment, a strange light flashed in Jong Jihang's transparent eyes.

Had he been waiting for this question? The Taoist Sage of Heaven felt that perhaps even this question of his had figured in the Solitary Sword's dying instructions.

"... I will walk... it again. The path... my master... walked..."

CLACK.

Was that it...? The Solitary Sword's dying instruction?

It was not a possibility he had failed to consider when lifting Jongnam's Closing of the Gates. Even so, he had made that decision as Murim Alliance Leader because he judged that Murim needed one more supreme master.

Having set his cup down audibly on the table, the Taoist Sage of Heaven quietly studied Jong Jihang's eyes. The strange light had already vanished. All that remained was their extraordinary depth and clarity.

At length, he gave up trying to read the young man's thoughts and sighed deeply.

"Ah... You will earn a great deal of hatred. Just as your master did."

Jong Jihang stroked the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword once before speaking.

"My master... told me... this..."

"He had drawn... his sword... too lightly... And had not even... wielded it fiercely enough... after doing so..."

His words were disjointed, but the Taoist Sage of Heaven understood them well enough. They brought back something he had once heard from the Solitary Sword.

["Why go to all the trouble of learning the sword if you won't swing it? Once you've learned, you ought to sweep everything away with it! Hahahaha!"]

As the Taoist Sage of Heaven briefly lost himself in recollection, Jong Jihang's weighty voice continued to reach his ears.

"That was why... he became... the Solitary Sword... the Venomous Sword..."

"If you follow the same path, you will only become another Solitary Sword."

"I... will not... Become that..."

"I will not... draw my sword... lightly... But once drawn... I will wield it... fiercely... Then... the mountains, rivers, trees, and grass... will tremble... and every martial artist... will piss their pants..."

"... Is that the Solitary Sword's dying instruction?"

Jong Jihang shook his head at the Taoist Sage of Heaven's grave question. His true dying instruction was something else. Perhaps he had sent his disciple to the Murim Alliance, even after his own death, to convey it. So the Taoist Sage of Heaven thought.

Jong Jihang rose. The Great Heavenly Adamant Sword in his left hand swayed roughly, just as the Solitary Sword's once had. No, far more crudely.

"He told me... to become... the New Sword... the Divine Sword..."

Did that mean he was to write a new history of Murim with swordsmanship that had reached the divine...? Probably so. The Solitary Sword he knew was more than capable of leaving such a dying instruction.

He was a man who never spoke idly.

'Does that mean... this young man... has the makings of such a swordsman?'

With those final words, Jong Jihang turned and walked toward the door. Having said all he had to say, he must have intended to leave.

Then the Taoist Sage of Heaven's voice stopped him.

"Does the pact with the Alliance still stand?"

Jong Jihang stopped short, bowed his head, and considered for a moment. At that sight, the Taoist Sage of Heaven was certain he knew about the pact. With the Solitary Sword dead, however, whether to honor it was entirely his choice.

"It... does..."

A faint smile spread across the Taoist Sage of Heaven's face.

He had failed to gain the Solitary Sword, but he had gained the Divine Sword instead. He had yet to see just how sharp this sword was, and it might one day prove double-edged...

But surely that depended on the person wielding it.

With a clack, Jong Jihang left, and the room emptied once more. Only the Taoist Sage of Heaven remained, stroking his empty teacup.

TAP-TAP.

The next ship arrived in Zhengzhou.

Dong Bongsu and Eulji Tae waited until everyone else had disembarked before finally setting foot in Zhengzhou for the first time. Up ahead, the Kunlun and Mount Hua disciples, their expressions still heavy after their defeat at Jong Jihang's hands, were walking quietly south. That was where the Murim Alliance stood. They were not alone: most of the passengers on the ship headed straight for the Alliance upon disembarking.

Nearly everyone getting off another ship that had come from the opposite direction was heading the same way as well... It was no exaggeration to say that a current from a sea of humanity was surging into Zhengzhou.

"Why do you think they are all flocking here?"

Eulji Tae spoke as he quietly watched the waves of people jostling one another.

Anyone who knew him would have been astonished. Since when had the Heaven-Splitting Tyrant Saber been so ready to initiate a conversation? And with someone he had known for less than a month, at that.

He was famous for rarely opening his mouth unless someone spoke to him first. Yet Dong Bongsu often prompted him to speak first. It was strange, but not altogether unpleasant.

Like Eulji Tae, Dong Bongsu gazed at the unbroken procession of people before offering an offhand reply.

"Because this is no age of peace and prosperity."

Unexpected. An answer far beyond anything he had anticipated. Yes, this was what made him speak first. Eulji Tae spoke, a trace of something between a smile and puzzlement crossing his cold face.

"You asked why they are all flocking here."

"I did."

"They must have gathered here to become heroes or great champions of chivalry."

Indeed. That was the conventional answer, the direct response Eulji Tae had wanted. But what did peace and prosperity have to do with it? Wasn't that entirely beside the point?

Dong Bongsu continued.

"Heroes do not emerge in an age of peace and prosperity. In such an age, people have no need for heroes or great champions of chivalry. They do not even know such things exist."

"Just as the people in the days of Yao and Shun did not even know who their ruler was."

An age of turmoil. And the heroes of that troubled age.

Dong Bongsu was speaking of heroes born of turmoil, not the ordinary chivalrous martial artists Eulji Tae had in mind. Did he mean that there was so vast a gulf between a hero and a “great” champion of chivalry?

Dong Bongsu's intriguing answer made Eulji Tae all the more curious about him.

"What about you? Are you the same as them?"

At Eulji Tae's question, Dong Bongsu fell silent for a moment and considered.

His “special prey” would have come here. And for the first time in his life, he had acquired something he could call a “peculiar goal.” As special and peculiar as they were, both would be exceedingly difficult. Since this was a first for him, “challenge” seemed an apt word.

Challenge.

An unfamiliar word, yet somehow appealing. And he had already come to Zhengzhou.

Suddenly, a joking phrase he had often heard in that other world came to mind.

'Even if you can't win, go.'

A hwatu table. Or, in the terms of this world, a tujeon table. It was the sort of phrase that belonged at a gambling table... but it fit perfectly.

Yes. He would go forward. Just as he always had.

"The waves are rolling in."

Dong Bongsu spoke in an even tone.