Chapter 24

Looking back, it was indeed a fine play.

The play, which was said to encapsulate the horrors of war, featured actors risking their lives in many scenes.

Desperately grappling and struggling.

Overpowering and being overpowered, bodies piling on top of one another, rolling, tangling...

Killing someone to live, living to kill someone else.

*Thud, thud, thud.*

The Demon King felt alive with the pounding in his ears. As the play reached its climax, the sound of the drum and the pounding grew louder.

Until an unsightly scene unfolded.

-That... uh... that...

One actor, in the midst of a crucial scene, faltered as the opposing actor flubbed their lines.

'I thought I had found a decent play after a long time.'

The stupidity of those two actors quickly dampened the thrill the Demon King was feeling. Seeing them stutter and ruin the play made his face contort with disgust. The Demon King looked at the flustered actor.

His interest waned; now, what to do?

He could slash the actor's throat or quietly leave to smoke opium.

But since he made the effort to come, perhaps killing would be more amusing? Ruining the climax of the play, it seems fitting they should die...

Yes, that's right.

Just as he was about to unleash his dark energy.

The trembling actor's shoulder, clenched fist, caught his eye.

Desperately pathetic. Even with a mask on, it was clear what the expression underneath would be like.

"..."

He must be feeling flustered. His eyes are probably shaking rapidly, and his mouth is probably dry.

He might be angry because the other performer ruined the play, which had high stakes riding on it.

Or maybe he's holding back tears and biting his lip.

Seeing that expression would be far more amusing than the ruined play.

"Pfft..."

Imagining that ridiculous expression, the Demon King couldn't help but burst into laughter. His laughter, unexpected in the silence, resonated louder than anticipated. He could see the actors freeze, trembling fingertips, restless...

Ah... really.

.

.

.

It's too amusing.

Laughing so hard it felt like his heart might burst out. His straight back involuntarily bent, feeling a sharp pain as his core tightened, but he couldn't stop laughing.

How much time had passed?

*Thud, thud, thud, thud.*

The halted drumming sound began to resonate loudly again, urging the actor on.

Soon, the actor seemed to regain composure and continued the play.

"...Ha."

As if he never laughed, the Demon King's face hardened. He pressed his fingers against his numb lips and left his seat.

Deciding to create a more severe play in reality, not such trivial ones like this.

But now, someone is ruining that play.

"You kill them."

Gion, having sheathed his sword, looked squarely at the Demon King.

"..."

The Demon King looked around. Everyone wore stunned expressions at Gion's words.

Just like the two actors who ruined the play and wasted time.

In this situation, heading towards a climax, faces are frozen in stupidity.

And amidst that, only Gion calmly looked at the Demon King.

"Really..."

The Demon King's face hardened instantly, and a massive shadow engulfed the hall.

*Screech.*

It was a sound never heard before.

It seemed as if all the crevices of the world were opening or the air was being torn apart.

The Demon King simply stood still, arms crossed, lost in thought.

The sound reached a crescendo, feeling like the eardrums would burst when the Demon King spoke.

"I suppose I should just kill you."

There was no weight in the Demon King's words.

It was as light an attitude as a spectator leaving their seat, bored with the play. It was mixed with a hint of irritation.

At that moment.

"Stop this."

Rohwa, with her bright red eyes, looked intently at the Demon King.

"It's not the right time. Don't let a moment's emotion ruin everything."

"..."

Silence fell over the hall instantly.

The Chimes, like an audience confused by a halted play, were looking around, trying to gauge the situation.

In the meantime, there was Gion, who sat calmly on the porch, observing them.

The Demon King slowly looked around and then fixed his gaze on Rohwa.

Like someone incessantly peering and observing, wanting to see the true face behind an actor's mask.

"Pfft..."

The Demon King let out a small laugh and smirked.

"Yes. You're right, Rohwa."

"..."

"My interest has waned, so let's end it here for today."

At the Demon King's gesture, the Chimes immediately followed him.

"Rohwa."

The Demon King, who had turned away, suddenly stopped and looked back at Rohwa, still contorting her face.

He doesn't regret watching that play that day. But there was one thing he regretted.

Not having seen behind the masks of those two actors.

"Why did you kill Sihwan?"

Like a crack appearing on a solid mask, Rohwa's eyes trembled.

The Demon King chuckled and shrugged. Rohwa quickly hardened her expression and said,

"Because he sided with Gion."

Gion shifted his gaze to Rohwa, but Rohwa didn't look back at him.

She just stood her ground, gazing at the Demon King.

"He was a traitor, so I disposed of him."

"..."

A tension-filled silence lingered briefly.

The Demon King glanced at Gion. But Gion, without a flicker of movement, said nothing.

"You tell an interesting story."

The Demon King barely suppressed the laughter seeping out and continued,

"Sihwan went to meet you that day, and Gayang saw it. You knew that, right?"

"..."

Rohwa furrowed her brows slightly. With her hands behind her back, she tilted her head and retorted,

"So what?"

"Just that."

The Demon King moved his feet lightly as if excited.

"Let's leave it at that for now."

At that moment.

*Swoosh-*

A bright white light blocked the Chimes who were following the Demon King.

"The game may have been disrupted, but let's finish what we started."

Gion rose from his seat and approached the Chimes, who were furrowing their brows in confusion.

He had no intention of wasting time searching for the Chimes. Why invest anything in such beings?

The most efficient way to eliminate the Chimes was simpler than one might think.

"Since it's bothersome for us to find each other, let's meet here again in a week."

"...What?"

"A week should give you enough time to prepare, shouldn't it?"

Gion spoke calmly as if he was setting a lunch date.

"....Ha, hahaha!"

At Gion's words, the Fourth Chime burst into laughter, radiating murderous intent.

"You must be insane. Do you think we will make an appointment with you?"

At that moment.

Zzzzzzt.

The Second Chime emitted dark energy, looked at the Fourth Chime with a gentle smile, and said,

"You should listen to what people say until the end."

"..."

The Fourth Chime shivered and hesitated to step back. The Second Chime then spread his wings and landed softly before Gion.

"Just because you survived today, there's no guarantee you'll be alive a week from now."

"..."

"You could really end up dead if you rush in so recklessly. Do you have any idea what we might do in a week?"

The Second Chime spoke softly, but his expression remained eerily fixed.

Gion, however, simply continued,

"It doesn't matter."

"..."

"After all, you want to kill me, right? There's no need for us to waste time searching for each other."

Gion's gaze wasn't on the Second Chime in front of him.

He looked at the Demon King and Rohwa, standing at a distance on Seosan.

The Demon King seemed amused by the situation, while Rohwa, as if seething with anger, bit her lip and clenched her fist.

"We'll meet here in a week then."

Gion turned his back on them and walked away.

***

"How did you come here?"

A boy armed with an axe was on guard.

Gion quietly observed the boy.

"..."

It was natural for the boy to react this way. Gion had found his way to the forge hidden by the energy of the Ji's clan.

Standing in a nearly collapsing forge, the boy thrust his axe forward, more precarious than the space itself. Yet, without blinking or stepping back...

"You resemble him."

Gion sat down as if returning to his childhood home, comfortably settling in.

"Is Zhouwen alive?"

"...Yes?"

"The owner here."

The boy blinked but did not lower his axe as he spoke.

"Well... I'm the owner now, but he is still alive... But how do you know my father?"

"Then pass a message to your father."

Gion quietly looked into the flames burning in the forge.

"Tell him Gion came looking for him."

***

"Gion!"

Zhouwen hurried over, his face flushed from alcohol, staggering on his short legs but with a sense of urgency.

"It's been a long time."

As Gion smiled faintly, Zhouwen's lips trembled, and tears welled in his eyes.

The Ji clan.

Despite their small stature, this tiny clan was known for its incredible bravery.

Though not strong enough to participate in battles as soldiers, the Ji clan was renowned as blacksmiths, acknowledged by all.

The swords wielded by the warriors of the White Dragon Castle were all crafted by the Ji clan.

Gion, too, had gone into battles armed with weapons and shields made by Zhouwen, always returning victorious.

Lost in memories, Zhouwen gazed blankly at Gion before abruptly rubbing his eyes and asking,

"Seeing you in that state, you must have some business."

Noting Gion's unhealed wounds, Zhouwen spoke somberly.

Gion nodded, and Zhouwen, swallowing whatever he wanted to say, sat down.

"If these weapons can be ready in 3 days, that would be great."

Zhouwen took the paper Gion handed him and widened his eyes in shock.

"Why would you need something like this...? You are already possessing the Chunhwa sword. You never requested this much, even for wars."

Gion remained silent, just waiting for an answer. Zhouwen exhaled softly.

"... It's possible."

Zhouwen knew Gion well. The reason Gion didn't answer Zhouwen's question was that he didn't want Zhouwen to worry unnecessarily. Swallowing numerous questions, Zhouwen continued,

"Come back in three days. I'll have everything ready by then."

"Thank you."

Gion patted Zhouwen's shoulder with his rough hand warmly and stood up.

"See you in three days."

Zhouwen remained in his spot long after Gion had left.

***

Three days passed in a flash.

Gion picked up an irregular sword, its blade as thick and pointed as a dragon's claw. The Qingchun sword, also known as the Predator Sword, had a large blade and was notorious for being challenging for blacksmiths due to the amount of metal used. Making it light would thin the blade, but making it heavy would require too much strength to wield.

But Zhouwen wasn't the chief of the Ji clan for nothing.

*Whoosh!*

It felt light. Despite the heavy force slicing through the air, it didn't strain the shoulder.

The sword's silence, when swung, hinted at its suitability for battle. Gion's stroke cleanly sliced through a tree branch, sending a chilling sound echoing through the mountain.

And that wasn't all.

*Clang-*

Gion picked up a mace. A massive mace with iron weights the size of human heads on both ends, connected by chains. The weights, studded with large spikes, could easily crush skulls or bones, even with a mace the size of a human palm.

But what would happen if one swung a mace with iron weights as large as human heads on both ends?

*Boom!*

The ground crumbled instantly, creating a round pit. Its intuitive usage and destructive power were outstanding. Gion clenched and then relaxed his hand.

'Classic Zhouwen.'

The handle and chain absorbed the recoil and impact. Swinging such a mace would normally make the body stagger, but his hand didn't even tingle.

*Thud!*

Gion set the mace down and checked the remaining weapons.

The Huaguang bow, shooting flames like arrows, and the Yongge spear, becoming sturdier with each strike it absorbed...

Gion held, swung, lifted, and even threw more than ten different weapons.

"..."

Zhouwen watched the scene, feeling a chill down his spine.

He had welcomed Gion in a drunken state, but now the heat from the alcohol had completely dissipated.

'Someone's in for a tough time.'

Being the maker of the weapons, Zhouwen understood something more profound.

Like the intent of the person wielding the weapons.

Just by observing the stance and attack, one can discern whether the weapon is meant to subdue someone, protect oneself, or swiftly end a life.

Unequivocally...

Those who face Gion's attack will not meet a peaceful end.

Even merely inspecting the weapons, a cruel, murderous intent is palpably felt.

The chill Zhouwen felt a hundred years ago in Biryu revived, causing his body to shudder.

Yet, Zhouwen's fear lay elsewhere.

The fear that Gion, who had returned alive after a hundred years, might perish once more.

The weapons Gion was examining had no defensive purpose.

"...Gion."

It's clearly a life-or-death struggle.

Desperate, dire, and brutal—such would be the nature of this battle.

The level of preparation alone is telling. In such a battle, there can never be a favorable ending.

Death leaves remnants.

Even if the deceased are gone, those who remember them remain.

Those left behind will remember why the deceased died, and in those memories, Gion, the cause of that death, will persist. Even if Gion survives this battle, those who remember the fallen will harbor resentment towards him.

'If that happens, the future will only become more perilous.'

Just like a hundred years ago.

Being a general who always heralds victory means being the person who has killed the most and consequently has garnered the most resentment.

Even after returning from war, having been constantly threatened, Gion actually went to sleep with his sword after the war ended, just like at the forward base.

It meant being constantly under threat of losing his life.

Gion, seeing Zhouwen barely moving his lips, said,

"It's alright. There's still much to do."

Meaning he simply cannot afford to die.

Zhouwen gave a bitter smile. That meant, of course, Gion wouldn't stop.

"I have some aged liquor that's been sitting for a while. It's already been a hundred years since I brewed it."

Zhouwen stood up, beginning to organize so that Gion could comfortably gather his weapons.

"Come back and have a drink."

"..."

"It's too lonely to drink that precious liquor alone."

Gion nodded silently without uttering a word.