Murim Login - Chapter 503
Senility.
Moon Kyung silently rolled the word on his tongue.
Though no sound escaped, it left a bitter aftertaste. Jeok Cheon-Gang’s voice carried the same weight.
“I plan to leave. I’ll go to Mount Jiuhua to calm my mind and body.”
“You already know the reason, so please, don’t try to stop me.”
Just as Jeok Cheon-Gang said, Moon Kyung understood why he was choosing to leave.
‘He’s afraid of becoming a burden.’
His condition would continue to worsen.
And if his mind were to falter at a crucial moment, those by his side would face grave danger.
The enemies feared the Fire King Jeok Cheon-Gang, not an old man who couldn’t remember his own name or where he lived.
‘More accurately, he’s worried about his disciple’s safety.’
Everyone has something they cannot afford to lose.
For a beggar in the marketplace, a half-crushed dumpling might mean life or death.
For an emperor, his jade seal, the symbol of power and authority, could be more valuable than the lives of thousands.
For Jeok Cheon-Gang, that irreplaceable treasure was Jin Taekyung.
Someone he would trade his own life for. Someone he could never afford to lose, no matter what.
“You care deeply for your disciple.”
“Disciple, huh? If you’re about to start another pointless argument like last time, just drop it.”
Moon Kyung’s curt words drew a bitter smile from Jeok Cheon-Gang.
“No, you’re right. He’s my one and only disciple.”
“So you’re saying you’d become a burden to him? That you’re so afraid of that possibility that you’re choosing to leave?”
“It’s the only choice. It’s for his sake.”
“There are other choices. Like that [Water Dragon’s Inner Core] you just obtained.”
“You know as well as I do that external energy gained from medicine cannot truly heal me. And besides…”
Jeok Cheon-Gang looked down at his wrinkled hands and muttered.
“I’ve already grown too old. Even if the inner core had such an effect, how could I gamble on a slim possibility and waste it on an old man like me?”
“Even if you patch up the hull of an old ship, water will still leak in from somewhere else. But that child—my disciple—is different.”
A gleam returned to his deeply sunken eyes. The name of that light was joy—hope.
Moon Kyung could clearly see the depth of Jeok Cheon-Gang’s feelings for his disciple reflected in those eyes.
“This is the only choice I have. Please, grant me this request. Let me leave without regret.”
“…The only choice, is that it?”
“Can I entrust him to you again?”
Moon Kyung, staring at Jeok Cheon-Gang, suddenly spoke.
“To the east of Zhejiang, beyond the sea, there’s a small island nation.”
“An island nation?”
“You must have heard of it before. It’s called Wa.”
“Wa?”
Jeok Cheon-Gang blinked at the unexpected mention.
“Of course, I’ve heard of it. Haven’t the Wako raiders been pillaging our coasts for years?”
“But have you ever seen them yourself?”
“Not in person, but I’ve heard they look strange—carrying swords as tall as themselves, shaving the front of their heads, and wearing nothing but undergarments made of straw mats.”
“Whoever told you that gave you a pretty accurate description.”
“…Why bring this up now?”
Jeok Cheon-Gang’s words were cut off by Moon Kyung’s next sentence.
“A long time ago, I fought the greatest [Ninja] in Wa.”
Jeok Cheon-Gang had heard of ninjas before.
Similar to the assassins of the Central Plains, they weren’t particularly skilled in martial arts but were masters of stealth and weaponry like throwing knives.
“I don’t need to ask about the outcome. Are you trying to boast about taking down the greatest ninja in Wa?”
“I didn’t kill him. My goal was to capture him alive.”
When someone is taken alive, only two paths remain.
They either open their mouth after enduring a little pain, or they open it after enduring unimaginable torture.
Either way, death awaited them. The only difference was how much suffering came before it.
“He was the latter.”
As befitted Wa’s greatest ninja, he held out for quite some time.
Unfortunately for him, Moon Kyung had been part of the [Silent Heaven Pavilion], the most feared assassin sect in the Central Plains.
They knew countless methods of torture.
And so, the ninja was driven into a state worse than death, spilling not just information, but every last memory buried in his mind.
“It was then that I learned of a certain custom in Wa.”
“A custom?”
“Did you know that in Wa, there are those who abandon their elderly parents in the mountains?”
“…It’s not surprising, but still despicable.”
“It’s their way of reducing mouths to feed. They don’t care whether the elderly starve to death or get eaten by wild beasts. Once they’re too old to work, they’re discarded.”
To abandon the very parents who raised them simply because they were old—if true, it was beyond cruel.
Extreme famine sometimes drove peasants to commit unforgivable acts, but for something like this to exist as a custom was an entirely different matter.
Moon Kyung continued in a dry voice.
“The ninja I captured had done the same to his own mother. And yet, as he left her behind in the deep mountains, do you know what she said to him?”
“That bastard.”
“Unfilial wretch.”
Seeing Moon Kyung’s expression harden like iron, Jeok Cheon-Gang let out a dry chuckle before speaking.
“If it were Taekyung, he’d probably curse him out too. But that woman must have been different. A mother’s heart doesn’t simply disappear, even when abandoned by her own child. So, what did she say?”
“She told him to take his time. To be careful on the mountain path, because it was dark and he might trip if he rushed.”
Jeok Cheon-Gang could understand that mother’s feelings.
Because his own decision to leave wasn’t all that different.
Though unlike the woman in Moon Kyung’s story, Jeok Cheon-Gang was not being abandoned—he still feared becoming a burden to those he cherished. That was why he had chosen to leave.
‘And the fact that the Killing Star is telling me this story…’
Jeok Cheon-Gang looked at Moon Kyung with a mix of relief and bitterness.
“Can I take that as your way of accepting my request?”
Moon Kyung had always called himself a physician.
For him to dig up the past he wished to forget and share this story—it could only mean one thing. He was subtly acknowledging Jeok Cheon-Gang’s plea.
At least, that was what Jeok Cheon-Gang thought.
Until the moment he saw Moon Kyung shake his head.
“…What is the meaning of this?”
“A shake of the head has meant the same thing throughout history. Or is it different in Yeolhwa Sect?”
“Then why tell me that story—”
“Ah, I forgot to mention the ending. That ninja’s mother? She lived a full life and was eventually buried in a sunny, peaceful place. Because the unfilial son, realizing his mistake, returned and took her back.”
At that moment, Jeok Cheon-Gang’s body stiffened.
Finally, he understood.
He understood what Moon Kyung was trying to say.
And just how foolish he had been.
‘That woman, even as she was abandoned, still worried for her child. And yet, I was about to leave that boy on my own accord…’
Jeok Cheon-Gang hadn’t wanted to burden Jin Taekyung—his one and only disciple.
That was all.
But that wasn’t the pure and noble concern of a master for his student.
It was nothing more than the stubborn pride of an old man.
A selfish delusion.
At that moment, he recalled a conversation from long ago, back on the familiar grounds of Mount Jiuhua.
Lying side by side on a broad rock, he and Jin Taekyung had spoken.
“You’re holding up better than I thought. What, is your body made of iron?”
“I am Iron Man.”
“As punishment for your nonsense—two hundred more pounds of iron weights.”
“…Ah.”
“Hahaha! I’m joking. Though I must admit, I’m starting to find your nonsense oddly familiar.”
“Whatever. Just attach the weights later.”
“Are you making me say it twice? I told you it was a joke.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“Hmm?”
“There are bound to be people stronger than me out there. I don’t want to be treated as dead weight later on. If adding more weight now means I won’t be a burden later, then bring it on.”
“Hah, look at you. And what, do you think adding two hundred pounds now will stop you from becoming dead weight?”
“Probably not. But I can at least try my hardest. That way, if I ever collapse, you’ll pick me up, won’t you?”
“Now you’re outright calling yourself a burden. Fine then—if I do that for you, what will you do for me?”
“If you ever collapse, I’ll carry you on my back.”
“Hah, do you think I’ll ever collapse?”
“If you grow weary, I can at least support you.”
“…You sound awfully arrogant. Five hundred more pounds of iron.”
“Are you insane, human?”
—
It had been nothing more than an ordinary conversation on an ordinary day.
And yet, Jeok Cheon-Gang had often recalled it afterward.
Even after scolding the boy, he had turned away to stifle a laugh.
Even as he added more weights, he had secretly watched over him, wondering if the load was too much.
Even now, Jin Taekyung’s voice from that day echoed in his ears.
“If you ever collapse, I’ll carry you on my back.”
He had always thought—he would be in front, and Jin Taekyung would follow behind.
That was why he had refused to ever fall.
“If you grow weary, I can at least support you.”
He hadn’t even wanted to show a moment of weakness.
Like every father in the world, he had wanted to remain an invincible figure to his disciple.
Even on that fateful day, when he had fought with death in mind.
“Fire God Phantom Dance… What a cool name.”
“You… How do you—”
“You should’ve crushed his skull properly.”
“Kuh…!”
“Master!”
But he had not been invincible.
Only after waking from a long slumber had he realized—
Just how much his foolish disciple had endured while carrying him on his back.
How many times he had risked his life, pushing through unimaginable hardships.
So, he had made a firm decision.
That he would never collapse again.
That he would not become a burden that put his disciple in danger.
But he had been wrong.
“We’ve always walked side by side. Since the very beginning, following the same path. Always together.”
A single thought filled his mind.
And at that moment, from deep within, all the dark and suffocating memories that had shackled him came flooding back.
Fwoooosh!
It was the countless fragments of his past.
A starving beggar boy desperately scrambling for a single dumpling.
A tide of emotions—rage and despair, sorrow and guilt—crashed over him, constricting his entire being.
Yet strangely enough, for the first time, he felt no pain.
The tightness that usually clutched his chest when recalling his past was gone.
The headache that made him feel as though his skull was about to crack was absent.
‘This is…’
Jeok Cheon-Gang, immersed in a peace he hadn’t felt in years, suddenly felt a cool breeze from somewhere.
And along with it—a voice.
“Oh, this is nice.”
“Hmph. I personally chose this as the best spot on Mount Jiuhua.”
“This rock is practically a premium stone mattress. Five stars.”
“Kuh-hmm!”
Warmth spread through him.
A brilliant light seeped in.
The darkness that had settled deep within Jeok Cheon-Gang’s heart for decades was slowly dissipating.
[Heart Demon].
It was the name of the darkness he had harbored.
The shackles that had bound him for so long.
And the force that had finally driven it away—
Was nothing more than a single breeze on a bright, clear day atop Mount Jiuhua.
And the voice of someone dear.
Fwoooosh!
“Master.”
Light consumed the darkness.
His [Heart Demon] vanished.
His eyes were closed, yet everything around him was brilliantly bright.
A faint smile crept onto Jeok Cheon-Gang’s wrinkled lips.
“Alright then.”
A gust of wind tousled his white hair.
And this time, it was neither an illusion nor a mere thought.
BOOOOOOM!
At last, the shackles were broken.
The giant, Fire King Jeok Cheon-Gang, rose to his feet.
A powerful wind surged outward from his very being, sweeping across the surroundings.