The porch of the thatched-roof house.
Beggar King Ma Il-seok sat facing his longtime sworn brother, glancing over the fence at Mok Ri-won, who was peeking at them from the other side.
"Is that the child?"
"Would I have brought a different one in such a short time?"
"...He's grown up quite nicely."
It had been nearly seven years since their last meeting.
Ma Il-seok stared at Mok Ri-won with sunken eyes before shifting his gaze to Mok Seon-oh.
"I recall asking you to investigate whether there were any other cases of children whose bodies had been artificially altered for Demonic Arts."
"Yes."
Mok Seon-oh's expression darkened.
"I intended to teach him my martial arts. But with his meridians in such a state, I fear this very training might become poison to him."
"Anyway, Elder Brother, you're certainly cautious."
Ma Il-seok snorted.
"I've already investigated. After scouring the Alliance Archives, I found information about this phenomenon in a rather unexpected place."
"Unexpected?"
"The Blood Chronicle from seven years ago."
Mok Seon-oh's eyes widened.
Ma Il-seok nodded and continued, "You're thinking correctly. Among the documents we seized while burning down the Blood Heaven Cult that day, there was mention of a Grand Method."
"A Grand Method...?"
"Do you remember where we found the child?"
How could he forget?
The altar behind the Great Hall, reeking of the Scent of Blood from the side gate. It was the very place where they had suspected vile black magic targeting the child. That place remained vividly etched in Mok Seon-oh's mind.
Mok Seon-oh's expression twisted.
"...Are you saying I've already completed the Grand Method?"
"That's right. That's what the books in the Alliance Archives call it."
Ma Il-seok's face hardened as he paused to gather his breath.
Then he spoke again:
"Ultimate Demonic Physique."
Mok Seon-oh gasped.
His expression contorted horribly.
How could he not know?
Wasn't everyone who had set foot in the Martial World aware of what the Ultimate Demonic Physique was?
"...The Heavenly Demon's fleshly body."
"Exactly. Yi Mu-baek, one of the Three Great Heavenly Demons. Even today, when ranking the greatest figures of all time, he remains among the top three. He was born with the Ultimate Demonic Physique."
Ma Il-seok sighed.
"And he, too, was born under the Heavenly Killing Star."
"...Did the Blood Demon desire Yi Mu-baek's reincarnation?"
"I don't know anymore. Didn't you cut off that bastard's head, Elder Brother?"
Mok Seon-oh let out a hollow laugh.
This truly was a frustrating situation. With no one to turn to for answers, a sense of helplessness began to overwhelm him.
Ma Il-seok understood Mok Seon-oh's feelings.
How could he not?
The child he had taken in, even abandoning his own name for him—the child who had vowed to overcome the fate imposed upon him—now possessed a body specifically crafted for mastering Demonic Arts. Wouldn't it be strange if he weren't frustrated?
Yet, setting aside such emotional considerations, Ma Il-seok couldn't help but think this might actually be for the best.
"Elder Brother."
"Speak."
"...It's not too late yet."
Mok Seon-oh's eyes widened.
Ma Il-seok continued, unfazed by his reaction.
"I didn't intervene that day out of respect for your wishes, Elder Brother. And knowing your agreement, I've done everything possible to get here. But look—the fate destined for that child is beyond the reach of any individual's efforts. So, it's time to give up..."
"Enough!" Mok Seon-oh roared.
Ma Il-seok's lips snapped shut. Far away, Mok Ri-won, who had been eavesdropping, startled at the shout and flinched.
Two pairs of eyes turned to fix on Mok Ri-won. Feeling awkward, he scratched the back of his head and hurried away.
Mok Seon-oh watched the child's retreating figure with a sorrowful expression.
"...Stop," he said softly.
"Elder Brother..."
"Beggar."
Ma Il-seok's fist clenched tightly.
Whenever Ma Il-seok addressed him by that old nickname, Mok Seon-oh knew exactly what would follow.
"I..."
Just as Mok Seon-oh was about to continue, Ma Il-seok abruptly stood up.
"...Stop."
Mok Seon-oh's gaze shifted to Ma Il-seok.
Ma Il-seok bit his lip tightly before continuing.
"You're going to try to persuade me again, aren't you? To preach about that damned 'virtue' again. But listen..."
Ma Il-seok trailed off, hesitating. He knew the words he was about to speak would wound his revered sworn brother, and that was why he hesitated.
Yet the honest truth he needed to voice remained.
"I hate that child."
Ma Il-seok hated Mok Ri-won.
He hated the child who had stolen the name of a great martial hero who deserved to be praised. And even more, he hated that this child seemed destined to grow into nothing but evil.
The resentment was overwhelming.
"If that child had never existed, Elder Brother wouldn't have had to abandon his name. No, it wouldn't have stopped there! Countless masters from the Orthodox Martial World would have willingly bowed their heads to follow you. Perhaps the Orthodox Martial World might have ushered in a new golden age under your name!"
The words poured forth, fueled by years of pent-up frustration. The bitterness that had festered in his heart for years finally burst forth, spewing out all the pus that had accumulated.
"Even now, so many still await your return! There are those who long for you to cast aside your stubbornness, to reclaim your place as the brightest star in the heavens!"
Sword Saint Mok Seon-oh.
Without a doubt, it was the name of the most brilliant star in the Martial World.
"Just... just for the sake of that..."
Just for the sake of that tiny, blood-soaked infant, a child who might yet grow into evil, a name like that should never have been extinguished.
Ma Il-seok's face contorted in anguish, his gaze piercing through Mok Seon-oh.
Unable to bear the sight of his pain, Mok Seon-oh lowered his head.
Had he been harboring such thoughts all along?
Had my ambition wounded others so deeply?
Regret gnawed at him.
Guilt weighed heavily on his heart.
Yet, deep inside, an unyielding stubbornness remained.
No—truth be told, it was love.
Mok Ri-won could never abandon the child who shared his surname, the child who smiled as he gazed at the small creatures of the forest.
"...I'm sorry," Ma Il-seok lamented, his voice heavy with anguish.
...No.
Perhaps he had known all along.
His sworn brother had always been this way, his stubbornness never once wavering.
Exhausted and hollow, Ma Il-seok let out a heavy sigh and turned away from Mok Seon-oh.
"I'm sorry. I'm not in a position to raise my voice like that..."
Silence hung in the air.
Ma Il-seok thought to himself:
My head is too heated right now to have a rational conversation.
"...I'll go cool my head for a while and come back."
Ma Il-seok left his seat.
Mok Seon-oh, left behind, tilted his head back and gazed at the sky, trying to calm his anguished heart.
Ma Il-seok emerged from the thatched hut and wandered aimlessly.
As he had confirmed on the way here, following this path would lead him to a stream where he could wash his face.
Pushing through the undergrowth and weaving between the trees, he finally reached the stream. Ma Il-seok frowned at the small figure standing before him.
"...Ah! Beggar King!"
It was Mok Ri-won.
With her fair skin, jet-black hair, and girlish features.
Ma Il-seok clicked his tongue and strode past her.
"Why are you out here?"
"I was waiting for your conversation to end! The atmosphere seemed so serious, I didn't want to interrupt!"
Her clear, deliberate speech gave her a remarkably clever air.
Realizing his train of thought, Ma Il-seok belatedly shuddered and forced the thought from his mind.
"...Hmph, so even you can read the room."
He knew this attitude was childish. But what could he do? Every time he thought of what his sworn brother had lost because of this child—and what the Orthodox Martial World had lost—his stomach churned.
As Ma Il-seok scowled at Mok Ri-won's disheveled appearance, Mok Ri-won spoke up.
"Beggar King, you're Master's sworn brother, right?"
"...What?"
"I heard it from Master! He said that among the righteous heroes he knows, his sworn brother, the Beggar King, ranks in the top five! So when you told me your name, Beggar King, I was so surprised!"
Despite his brusque demeanor, Mok Ri-won continued his explanation with a radiant smile, gesturing wildly with his arms.
For a moment, Ma Il-seok had to suppress the involuntary upward twitch of his lips at Mok Ri-won's words.
"Elder Brother...?"
It seemed Elder Brother had already told this child about him.
The realization made him unconsciously pay closer attention to the boy's words.
"Yes! Whenever he talked about the Martial World, he would mention the Beggar King! Like how they fought together in Residual Blood Valley, or when they met in the finals of the Azure Dragon Martial Arts Tournament, or... oh, and...!"
The boy's babbling voice continued, as clear and melodious as a bird's song.
The more Ma Il-seok listened to the story, the more a warmth welled up deep inside him.
All...
He still remembers it?
He had thought the Beggar King had long forgotten, retreated into seclusion, and abandoned any nostalgia for those bygone days.
"...Ah! The most thrilling part was the tale of your life-and-death struggle against the Azure Blood Siren!"
"E-eh?!"
Midway through his reverie, the Beggar King startled violently at the mention of the Azure Blood Siren, his body trembling.
Azure Blood Siren.
A witch from the Blood Heaven Cult who had infiltrated the Martial Alliance to steal intelligence.
One of the few names Ma Il-seok could never forget in his life.
He had nearly fallen completely under her spell, but Mok Seon-oh's timely intervention had saved him, leading to their bond as sworn brothers. How could he not be astonished to hear this story coming from the child's lips?
"Azure Blood Siren! Master said it himself! The Beggar King kept that fiend's feet bound for three days and nights! If not for the Beggar King that day, the Azure Blood Siren would never have been captured!"
He did bind her.
Or rather, he was the one who was bound.
Lost in lust, he had been wrung dry for three days and nights. It remained one of the most shameful memories in Ma Il-seok's life.
"Ahem, ahem...!"
Ma Il-seok's face flushed crimson.
Young Mok Ri-won, unaware of the reason for his embarrassment, simply gazed at Ma Il-seok with eyes brimming with admiration.
As Ma Il-seok trembled with shame, a belated realization struck him.
Wait a moment...
Did I just sense a sinister aura while facing this child?
Did I sense Demonic Qi emanating from him?
The realization darkened Ma Il-seok's expression with grave concern.
His gaze, carrying that very suspicion, turned toward Mok Ri-won.
Mok Ri-won tilted his head, his eyes shining with pure innocence. Upon closer inspection, a reddish tint could be seen in his dark brown pupils.
...There was none of the sinister malice Ma Il-seok had feared lurking within them.
"..."
Ma Il-seok's brow furrowed.
Of course, he thought. Mok Seon-oh would never teach a child such wickedness.
Even if the child's fate was irrevocably twisted, Mok Seon-oh was the kind of man who would offer love even to such a child.
As their gazes clashed beside the murmuring stream, Ma Il-seok suddenly asked:
"You..."
"Yes?"
"You..."
Ma Il-seok paused, his lips parting as he struggled to find the right words.
Could I have been bewitched by those eyes?
A question he couldn't explain even to himself welled up within Ma Il-seok, and the faint hope of "perhaps" that he had felt seven years ago resurfaced. He blurted out, "...What do you want to become?"
Mok Ri-won gazed at Ma Il-seok, pondering: Why is he asking this?
The question arose precisely because Mok Ri-won's desire to become what he yearned for was so clear.
"I want to become a heroic martial artist! A legendary one like you, Master!"
Ma Il-seok's eyes widened slightly. His fist clenched so tightly it seemed it would shatter.
"Why?"
"Why...?"
"There must be a reason. Perhaps you want to make a name for yourself in the Orthodox Martial World, or perhaps you crave power, influence, and wealth?"
He deliberately offered specific examples.
I wished this child would at least utter one of those desires, hoping it would bring him some peace of mind.
If he did, perhaps the shame of resenting him would diminish slightly.
But Mok Ri-won wasn't worldly enough to grant Ma Il-seok's wish.
Mok Ri-won simply smiled and said, "I saw stars in my Master's sword. They were so dazzling and beautiful that even when I close my eyes now, I can still see them."
As he spoke, he closed his eyes, his smile deepening.
"I love my Master's stars. When I look at them, the whole world seems to brighten. Even in the darkest night, thinking of them makes me feel unafraid."
His voice sounded as if he were dreaming.
In Mok Ri-won's voice lay a clear longing and tender affection.
"I want to carry such a star within me too. I want to become someone who protects others. I want to become a beautifully shining star that illuminates the path for others."
Mok Ri-won opened his eyes.
The impression Ma Il-seok had once described as "girlish" now bloomed into even greater beauty as his crescent-moon eyes curved into a graceful arc.
"The star I desire is Master's star. And Master's star is the star of a righteous warrior. That's why... I want to become a righteous warrior."
As Mok Ri-won finally finished speaking, Ma Il-seok let out a hollow laugh.
"Heh..."
There was something he didn't want to acknowledge.
Something he wanted to leave as mere resentment.
Yet here stood such a child before him.
Despite himself, Ma Il-seok couldn't help but see someone else reflected in the boy's face.
"...You're a truly insolent little brat."
Mok Ri-won's radiant smile was the spitting image of Mok Seon-oh's—the charismatic smile of a righteous warrior.