Book 17 Chapter 3

Measures of equivalence

-point with a finger

"Oops, was I too harsh?

Hyuk-jung felt a little uncomfortable; he had just touched the deepest wound in both of their hearts. Of course, it was all intentional, but he hadn't planned on squeezing out tears. I felt like I was going to burst into tears if I left it alone. It was not a very happy experience to see a waterfall of tears pouring from the eyes of a man over forty.

"Okay, you've gotten a little depressed, I see. Why don't we do something to lighten the mood?"

"If you're looking for a change of pace, check out……?"

"Let's see how much you can squeeze out of him, shall we? What's with the look on your faces? Doesn't it look like you've been chewing on a cow? Does that mean you don't want to do it? Oh, no, you don't want to do it? Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were rebelling. You don't have to break out in a cold sweat. Are you feeling hot? Are you okay? That's great. Take care of yourself, especially around the holidays, and watch out for colds."

Yeomdo and Binggum didn't even have a chance to voice their disapproval. They were two people who were considered to be part of a great family in Jianghu, but in front of the old man, they were like children who were just taking their first steps.

"Uhm, well, since you've readily agreed, I'm going to give you a quick little test. So don't be so nervous, it's no big deal. Do you want me to fry you, steam you, or stir-fry you, but if you're going to teach someone, you should at least get a good idea of yourself first, right?"

"Who do you mean, who are you teaching……?"

"That kid. You know, the one who seems to like things very clean and hates a speck of dust or a strand of hair. I'm guessing he's Zheng Chen's grandson?"

"How do I get that to……?"

Of course, the two knew who he was. They'd had their eyes on him ever since they'd seen the final secret of the Galactic Stream Opening Sword, the Galactic Starry Sky, unfurled against the Trident Sword Blueprint in the semifinals of the Samsung War three years ago. Although he had failed to make it to the finals, leaving Bi Ryuyeon in the dust, there was no doubt that his ability to manipulate two different energies was extraordinary. The old man replied nonchalantly.

"What's so surprising about that? It's only that much."

They wondered if their lives were all in the hands of this old man. They even wondered if the old man was intentionally manipulating their fate, and if they were actually just actors playing out a script he had written.

Hyuk-jung paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"Well, I'm going to have to test it… and I'm going to need a yardstick to do that, right?"

A yardstick is a tool for judging an object. Needless to say, a large ruler is needed to measure a huge statue of a god, and an equivalent weight is needed to weigh a large object.

To slay a cow, you need a cow-hunting knife, to slay a chicken, a chicken-hunting knife, and to slay a dragon, a divine sword that can pierce a dragon lance. Conversely, you don't need to use a dragon slaying sword to kill a chicken. It would be a terrible waste.

Boom!

Salt and Iceblade's bodies stiffened under the strain. The dry spell passed. They had prided themselves on being able to maintain their composure in any situation, but now the immobility they had honed had shattered like a glass teapot that had fallen from the second floor of a teahouse, scattering here and there, its form nowhere to be found.

A long-lost sensation began to overwhelm their minds, an emotion they had buried in the deepest recesses of their souls, an emotion they thought would never rise again, an emotion that churned the waters of their inner landscape and muddied the waters of the lake, and it had a name: Fear.

"So let's try this one, shall we?"

After a moment of very serious and earnest consideration, the old man held up his index finger in a gesture of much thought.

Ting!

"To? Just that one?"

Suddenly, the taut bowstring felt as if it had been pulled right off the bow, and the two men panicked. The taut string slackened, and of course, the arrow didn't fly.

"One of these, I'm afraid, is still a little too much for you, but you can't ignore the dignity of an old friend, can you? You should think of his face, too, and be honored that it's not your little finger."

'Off…….'

This was also unacceptable, no matter who the other person was. Even though they were at odds and snarling at each other, they had one thing in common: they shared something that was absolute, beyond all causation and emotion.

It was the pride that they held in their hearts that they were the one and only disciples of the Martial Gods, a pride that they had never forgotten. Even if they didn't ask, they must have been thinking about it, too. When else had they been treated like this? They hadn't even been treated like this by Bi Ryuyeon.

The old man asked bluntly.

"Why, is that a complaint?"

"…Yes, that's a complaint."

After a moment's pause, Yin Dao finally opened his mouth to answer. No matter how small one was, no matter how small one was the late Master's best friend, no matter how large one was one of the two heavens, the impossible was impossible, and the incomprehensible was incomprehensible. At least he wasn't so pathetic as to swallow the words he was forced to say by authority.

"Although that's what you say, I can't agree with you on that point. If the two of us are only vessels that can be measured with that one little index finger, we won't be worthy to see the heavenly master, will we?"

Then Binggum, who had been silent, spoke up.

"I've never agreed with, affirmed, or sympathized with this guy, and I don't think I ever will……."

"What the hell, you freaking ice cube!"

Binggum held up a hand to stop her tantrum, and she continued her rant.

His tone changed. His voice, which had been as emotionless as a cold, gray north wind, began to heat up like a midsummer fever.

"But… I think I'm going to have to break that prediction today, because I'm feeling the validity of this friend's words right now, and no matter how much I ponder them, it seems that this fireball friend of mine, who is usually just a bundle of emotions, is right. I'm surprising myself that this can't be true."

"Who's your friend!"

I was salivating at the creepily chicken phrase that I normally wouldn't have used, even with my mouth agape. He must have decided that this was the only way to look cool.

He didn't think they'd be able to breathe together and take up swords together, but it turns out he was wrong.

"Ho, ho, I see the fellow hasn't been teaching out of boredom. All right, all right, I'll show you with my own eyes how wrong your simple addition schemes are, because even half a dozen halves add up to one."

With an arrogant look on his face, the old man snapped his index finger, towering like a mountain, and the meaning was clear.

"It's not for anyone else to prove your worth. If you want your worth reassessed, show me. Show me what you're worth."

"Just what I was hoping for!"

The specification and the formalities were omitted. There was no desire on either side to delay. Both sides were surprisingly impatient. All they wanted now was to get straight to the point.

What was needed were actions, not words. As the world has always taught me.

Yin Dao drew his Hong Yin, and Bing Sword drew his Bing Bai. It was the first time in twenty years that these two men had drawn their swords and dao together, shoulder to shoulder, against a single target. In that sense, today was a monumental day, but there was no such sweet romance in their minds. All that existed was a fiercely boiling red lava-like fighting spirit.

Who in the last hundred years has had the honor of experiencing both of these myths firsthand, the myth of the mightiest of the Murim, and the myth of the mightiest of the Murim?

The correct answer is none.

Now they will be the first and the last. For one myth has already become a legend and is buried in the sky.

"You guys were just worried that this might not be enough……."

The old man said, holding up one index finger.

"Not enough……. Is that true?"

Figuring it was faster to show than to tell, the old man pointed at the two with a casual, natural motion. The next moment, before they could react, a terrifying wave of pottery became a tidal wave, sweeping away their insignificant existence.

"Huh!"

The finger pointing at them was no longer a finger at all; it had become a finger that could no longer be called a finger at all. It was impossible to know what to call it, but it was clear that it was oppressing them with a terrifying force.

"Oh, no……?

My whole body shivered like an aspen tree. Even if I waded in and out of an icy stream in the middle of winter, it wouldn't be this bad. A chill ran down my spine. I couldn't move a muscle.

Yeomdo blinded him. He shuddered at the chilling sensation of a sharp, cold blade pointed at his brow, as if it could cut through thin air. His skin crawled. Death was dancing just inches from him.

The ice sword was no exception, the sharp tip of the blade pointed at him, its cold tongue flicking over his uvula, releasing a terrifying flesh.

There was only one index finger pointing at them, but their perceptions were different. Faced with a single event, two different interpretations and understandings arose. But those two different perceptions were aligned with their greatest fears: the fear that was pointing at them, that was holding them captive, was a fear that had grown in their own minds.

"Oh, my God!

Only then did they realize, with a shudder, how wrong they had been, the fatal flaw in their simplistic thinking, the gaping hole in their thinking.

They had to admit that they had momentarily forgotten what it was that stood before them. It was like seeing the tip of an iceberg on the surface of the water and trying to gauge its size when they hadn't even been given a taste. To think that I had ever thought of being so insecure in the face of something that could not be measured by my own standards……. He could not lift his face in shame.

What an arrogant and ignorant thing to do, to try to gain the upper hand with a mere tool against a being that stands before you like a mountain. They were not opponents to be fooled around with swords and sabers. It was not a sword or a saber that was oppressing them; they could intuitively sense that the heavy pressure that weighed down on both of their shoulders was the pressure of absolute existential superiority. It wasn't until they finally stood on death's doorstep that they realized it. How insignificant they were.

They had never seen such a large finger before. Could this be how the great Monkey King felt when he was trapped in the Buddha's palm? At least the monkeys were better off than humans because they could pee. They were bound so tightly that they couldn't lift a finger, let alone urinate, and they were as immobile as stone statues. It was a wonder their hearts were still beating. No, maybe their hearts had stopped beating in the first place. Like breathing. I wondered if it was an illusion that I was still alive.

They felt as if they were flies on an old man's finger with their wings clipped and their legs removed. Poor, helpless, insignificant worms, stripped of all possibility, unable to even struggle to live. Perhaps it would be easier to accept their fate in silence.

But…….

Ask yourself, "Is it really a good idea to give up? Am I confident that I won't regret it?

Yeomdo thought to himself, and then he vividly remembered his master's last appearance.

"I have lived a life of no regrets, and I want you to do the same. If you want to do something, if you want to accomplish something, never… never give up."

Then my eyes flashed open. Sensation returned to his limbs. They had one thing going for them, too.

It's that this sense is not the unknown.

A mind-numbing, overwhelming presence, and a surge of life emanating from within that presence! It was a sensation I had experienced dozens or hundreds of times before. Though I hadn't seen it in its entirety, due to the narrowness of my vision, it was enough to give me a sense of its overwhelming enormity.

Yes, they were immune. Resistance from past trials had been imprinted on their minds and bodies. If they could not take a step away from here, they would not be allowed to see the Master.

"Ha ha ha!"

A rallying cry erupted like a lion's roar. In a thunderous cry that pierced the air, they proclaimed the overthrow of oppression and freedom.

Finally, they were able to shake off the cobwebs that were holding them back.

Voila!

The hand moved.

Cringe!

The tiny movements that began at the tips of his fingers traveled through his wrists, over his elbows, stirred the muscles in his shoulders, traveled down through his chest, past his waist, pounded his thighs, struck his knees, traveled up his shins, past his ankles, and exited through his veins.

It's hard to turn static into dynamic, but the rest is history. Once a stone is rolling, it never stops.

"Ho, ho, ho! This is not going to be fun. You haven't shown me anything yet. Isn't that right?"

* * *

Yun Junho could feel it through his skin that the world around him had completely changed at some point in time. There were no stares of disdain, no mocking words, no light-hearted bickering whenever he walked down the street. All of them had been saved by the Volcano Covenant. Although the Volcano Covenant had ended in disaster, his character had been brightened by the ordeal, perhaps because a sense of confidence and pride had sprouted within him. His waist became stiff as a pine tree, his chest broadened to embrace the earth, the cloudiness in his eyes cleared, and his gait became more confident. My impatience was gone, I was relaxed, and I could think positively about everything.

Has he changed, or has the world changed? Perhaps he has changed, and the world has changed in response.

He was quite busy these days. He had been entrusted with the care of an old man by the name of Hyuk-joong, the head of the Volcanic Society's examiners, and it was clear that he was no ordinary tycoon, for even the dreaded Salty Master and the Ice Sword Master were careful and cautious in his presence. The reason he was walking so swiftly now was to go to the old man's quarters on an errand.

Smart.

"I'm back, boss!"

I knock on the door a few more times, but there's no response from the inside. I knock again, more gently, just in case they're enjoying the sewage.

Smart.

"……."

Again, no response.

"Let's go in."

After scratching his head, Yun Junho cautiously opened the door with the words, "I'll go in." At that moment, something strange happened. Tick tock, goosebumps began to sprout all over his body.

"Huh? Why is that?

His senses didn't pick up on anything in particular, though he briefly wondered at the strange reactions of his body playing with his mind. Yun simply opened the door and slipped through.

Inside was an old man. He wasn't even sleeping. Moreover, there were two other old men, the Salty Old Man and the Ice Black Old Man.

"Everyone was there, even Yin and Bing Du, so why didn't they respond?

That wasn't the only oddity: no one had batted an eye at him as he walked in.

All three of them stood there in stunned silence, not saying a word. None of them moved to sit down. For a moment, the air felt heavy, but that was all, and with no apparent danger in sight, Yun Junho casually stepped over a line he shouldn't have. The next moment, his foot was over the threshold.

"Huh?"

For a moment, he couldn't understand what had happened to him. Things had moved far beyond the realm of possibility for him to perceive. All his senses were suddenly gone.

He suddenly couldn't even tell where he was standing. It was as if an invisible force had stripped him of all sense of space. He wasn't even sure if his sense of time was working properly. All his senses were jumbled together like bedbug dough.

Where am I standing now? What is about to happen to me?

He couldn't figure it out. He was facing a situation he had never faced before.

Suddenly, the nape of my neck felt cold. It was a sensation he had felt once before. It was a sensation he'd felt before, the touch of a living blade on a bloody battlefield, an aura of death. But all he could do was stand there, dumbfounded.

"You idiot!"

With a ferocious snarl, a hand grabbed him by the back of the head and yanked him backward with all the force he could muster. He was unable to offer any resistance as he felt himself being choked.

Shhhh, it felt like I was being pulled out of some sort of bond. Suddenly, all my senses were back to normal. My hearing was restored, and I could hear the sound of cries.

"Hey, you dumbass burn, do you want to die, do you want to die, do you want to die?"

It was a voice I'd heard before. No, it was a voice I'd heard so often that I could hear it in my ears. That bad-tempered voice. There couldn't be more than one owner of such a nasty voice, that was not good for society. He called out the owner's name with anxiety.

"Liu, Liyan……."

Another change he made was to call his coworkers by their first names instead of their titles. So why is this guy so fiercely angry?

"You fool! You've been caught up in an invisible clash between people who have reached the level of pseudomorphic killing, the level where the sheer force of will is enough to kill a person, and you think you're out of danger because you're just standing there, doing nothing? You still think that what you see is all that matters? You're quiet? You're still? Where are you? To me, it looks like a powder keg that's about to explode, or a cracked dike in the rainy season? That's the Chung Jung Dong! You can't see it, but it looks quiet and still at first glance, but behind that quietness, countless battles are raging! Right now, they're in a stalemate, furrowing their brows like that, but in a moment, they're going to explode with a bang! Do you know what happens if you stand in the middle of it?"

Before Bi Ryuyeon could finish speaking, the tense tug of war broke down. The flood of chi that had been forcibly pent up, like the bursting of a levee during the rainy season, exploded forth.

Chorus!

An invisible, intangible sword qi shredded the objects where Yun Junho stood. Shredded was an understatement. Finely shredded was more accurate.

It wasn't just where he stood. Everything in the room was being swept up in a ferocious whirlwind of invisible blades, torn to shreds.

If he had stood there, dazed and distracted, he would have ended up in the same position and been cut into thousands of pieces, more gently than a stir-fry pork chop. It was only then, in the midst of an eerie shudder that froze his heart, that Yun Junho realized how foolish he had been. The cold blood from his frosty heart rushed through his veins and spread throughout his body. It was so unreal that it took a moment to sink in.

Shake!

After the blood drained from his legs, Yoon slumped to the ground. He thought he had changed, but he still had a long way to go in his training.

Right now, in front of him, a level of mastery he'd never seen before, let alone imagined, was clashing with one another.

Under the immense pressure of ten thousand tons of rock, the Yeomdo was forced to swallow the silence.

"Oh, my God, all the numbers are being read."

Standing in their way like a mountain, the diminutive old man had read all the qi they were about to deploy. They would be lucky if they were not counterattacked. They would be lucky if they were not counterattacked. Under equal conditions, they might have a chance of winning, but the difference between the old man and them was nothing short of heavenly. It was foolish to expect luck from such a disparity. Bing'er must have realized that as well, because she continued to remain silent.

"Why are you both standing still, and what's with the pouting?"

Hyuk-jung pointed to the two men's sweaty bones. Even under such tremendous pressure, the old man's face remained impassive.

"Tsk, tsk, yin and yang are supposed to be in harmony, not at odds with each other… What is it with you and your ugliness? Aren't you embarrassed for him? Yang and yin, shui and hua, fighting to get ahead? Don't you even know what harmony is?"

Hyuk-jung clicked his tongue.

"How can change be called change when it disrupts harmony? How can change be called change when it rejects mutuality and engages in strife? Yin and Yang are supposed to be mutually supportive, to be each other's source, but when Yin and Yang reject each other, as you have done, and go off on your own, it is only disgusting to the beholder. It is ugliness, itself."

The unspoken words struck a chord in their hearts.

"The way you are now, your friend who went before you will be so happy, so happy, that you can't even touch the fingers of this old man. He'll be so happy he'll weep. Yes, he will. Isn't that right? I don't think there's any point in trying anymore. I think I'll call it a day."

Hyuk-jung said with a sigh.

"Not yet!"

Yeomdo and Iceblade shouted at the same time. Their voices, which were usually growling, were now in perfect unison.

"We're not done yet, this is not the limit of what we can do."

For a moment, Yin Dao and Ice Sword decided to forget themselves and let the chi flow.

"Did I say we're not done yet?"

"We're just getting started."

Yeomdo and Iceblade answered in unison.

"Ryuyeon, what do we do with that?"

Yoon Joon-ho, who had been watching the three of them duke it out with Bi Ryuyeon from a little distance away because he was at risk of being swept away by a storm of chi if he got too close, asked anxiously. It was too much for him to handle, so he had sought advice, but there was a problem with who he was seeking advice from.

"Oh well, we'll just have to wait until the old man gets tired, and it'll be settled soon enough, I don't think he's that incompetent."

Bi Ryuyeon replied in a nonchalant tone.

"Can we stop that for a second?"

At this, Bi Ryuyeon burst out laughing with an absurd expression on her face.

"Stop? How? By going in there? Look, Mr. Yoon, that's an elegant way of saying 'voluntary act of life taxation.' If you reduce it to four letters, it's suicide. So what do you think it would be if you reduced it to three letters?"

"That… well……."

"What's that, a 'dog's death'!"

The answer was emphatic, with no hint of doubt.

"So what should I do?"

"What am I supposed to do, sit and watch? It's a waste of arrogance to try to help someone when they don't even ask for help."

With that, she flopped down on the ground and began to watch the battle with a relaxed attitude.

"What are you doing, sit down too!"

He patted the seat next to him excitedly, and Yoon Jun-ho replied, "That's… right," and sat down with him.

"Are we okay with this?"

Once I sat down and looked at it, my mind was still sucking, but it was like underwear.

"Of course not, and besides, I have a position."

"Entry?"

Yoon asked.

'"A master has a duty to watch his pupils fight," he said.'

Stretching her shoulders and chest, she replied.

"Huh, I think you said master and disciple out of order?"

Junho Yoon trailed off.

"Well, what do you think?"

Bi Ryuyeon only smiled meaningfully, but didn't elaborate further.

"Keep your eyes open!"

Ryuyeon Bi said.

"You can't pay for this kind of thing, it doesn't come around every day, and the best part is that it's free. You get a first-class seat to the big show and you don't have to pay a dime, so why pass up a golden opportunity like that? Keep an eye out for it, it'll help you."

"Uh… okay."

Yoon replied in a voice that sounded like an ant crawling.

"Tsk, tsk, sit up a little taller, open your chest, open your eyes. Expand your mind instead of closing it off. That's the kind of attitude you should have when you're watching a spectacle like this, right? Even if it's a high-level battle of masters, you can't steal anything from it if you're not properly prepared on the observing end. So get yourself ready. It's going to be worth it for you, because it's going to be a battle of the ten strongest people in the world, and that doesn't happen to just anyone."

Bi Ryuyeon looked at Yoon Jun-ho and said.

"You've seen the 'sim' in a nutshell."

Bi Ryuyeon pushed open the door to the inpatient ward of the Medicine Pavilion, a facility dedicated to the health and treatment of the Heavenly Martial Academy, where she had once been hospitalized. Now she was a patient, but now she was a visitor: two of his older disciples had been admitted. There was no sign of He Zhuoyun, who was rumored to have a specialty and hobby in human experimentation, but he was off somewhere else, fiddling with a patient with a peculiar symptom. One of the councilors, who I'd recognized from my previous hospitalization, informed me that both Yin Dao and Bing Sword were very high ranking members of the Heavenly Martial Academy, and that they were lying in this special room in the back. I thanked him and made my way to the room. A large sign on the door read "Visiting Envoy". The silence on the other side of the door was deathly. She opened the door unannounced. The white sign that read "Visiting Envoy" rattled weakly.

"How are your bodies?"

"……."

No answer came back. Salt and Iceblade were covered in bandages all over their bodies, so it wasn't as if they were in such serious condition that bloody bandages were covering their mouths… not that they couldn't speak because they were splinting their broken limbs and clenching their teeth in pain… just that they were lying with their backs to each other on a bed in the infirmary, covered in a white quilt. Not a word was exchanged. A heavy silence weighed down on them.

Bi Ryuyeon said, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

"He just told me that it's a minor internal injury, a scratch. He said it's a kind of degeneration caused by the rapid consumption of internal qi in one fell swoop. It's just a loss of energy, similar to collapsing from anemia. They say that if you take care of it for a day or two, you'll be fine."

"What happened to him?"

Yeomdo was the first to open its mouth. The ice sword's mouth was still frozen in place.

"Oh, the old man? Oh, by the way, you two passed out at that point, so we won't know what happened after that, because you were already in bed when you woke up."

Yeomdo's face flushed red with shame.

"So what happened?"

Finally, the ice sword's mouth opened.

"That was a good one."

There was no other way to put it, and it wasn't something to hide.

"That old man must be old, I knew he wasn't a normal old man, but I didn't expect him to make two of my best students look like this, I'm honestly surprised, who the hell is this old man?"

"……."

The double silence returned.

"I don't want to say… does that mean this?"

"……."

In fact, no matter how honorable he was to his master, Bi Ryuyeon, he could not dare to reveal the old man's identity, so it was very difficult for both of them.

"Well, okay, I'm not going to force him to talk, we'll see, but let's just say he's a mysterious old man for now. By the way, why are you both so fat?"

"……."

"Have you both been honeycombed… Are you two honey-eaters? You must have come to the wrong place today. I was worried about my two disciples, so I stopped by……."

"Thanks for that."

Salt replied dryly. It was clear that he wanted to get out of here.

"Okay, okay, we can go, we can go. I don't know what fun you two are going to have after I'm gone, but, well, I'll be out of here in two days, so why don't you just lie back and catch up on some of the gossip you've been holding back, and maybe we can have a nice, calm conversation?"

Bi Ryuyeon said, rising from her chair.

"Who's with him!"

"Who the fuck is that!"

Yeomdo and Ice Sword turned hard toward each other and shouted.

"Don't copy me!"

"Don't copy me!"

They both exclaimed at the same time.

"You!"

"You!"

Bi Ryuyeon shouted, pushing her way between the two men who were snarling at each other.

"Stop!"

I knew that if I left it alone, it would either take forever to end, or it would end both.

"Yikes!"

Even as she shook her head, she couldn't help but say something.

"They're not kids. Why do they get along so badly and fight all the time? Like water and oil. Or is it ice and fire?"

It also made sense to me that he was always growling at me.

"That was cool, though. That last one? What was it called?"

Bi Ryuyeon asked, recalling the tense moment when the red sword of Yin Dao and the blue sword of Ice Sword had blended together like yin and yang, breaking through the barrier of qi created by the old man and charging toward him. For a moment, their swords had been united in unison. Even though they had fallen in the end. What Bi Ryuyeon was asking was the name of the passing technique.

"Bing Yin Yang's return to the family!"

"Salt and ice pass!"

A single name came out of Bing's and Yin's mouths in two different ways at the same time, and invisible sparks flew as their eyes clashed over the gap in the fallen bed.

"Huh!"

"Heng!"

Salt and Iceblade simultaneously jerked and turned their heads in search of each other's unrecognizable sanctuary, until their backs were once again to each other.

"Yikes!"

Seeing that the mental age of the two of them had suddenly taken a sharp turn for the worse, Bi Ryuyeon shrugged her shoulders once and shook her head nervously, as if she were holding her head in the air with both hands in defeat.

"They're such little kids."