Why did my father come?

“Of course, he must have come to support me.”

But I know well he’s not that kind of person.

Just as it’s not easy to know why the Fist Master joined the late-night training group, it’s not easy to figure out why my father came to this gathering today.

“Is that really so?”

The Fist Master seemed to have his own suspicions about my father’s visit.

I poured more drink into his empty cup and asked,

“Then, what do you think was the reason?”

He emptied the cup again, drinking with no change in expression.

“I think it’s the opposite. He came to back the Great Young Master.”

“Did you two exchange any telepathic messages?”

He shook his head.

“But how do you know my father’s mind?”

“Just the fact he came to this place is the answer. The Master came to the first drinking gathering of the group I’m in with you. To congratulate? Is the Master that kind of person?”

“No.”

“Right, he’s not. Then why did he come? To make sure we know he’s watching this situation.”

Though the Fist Master doesn’t know everything about my father, he must have some feeling to say that.

“So, in the end, you mean my father is on your side?”

“That can’t be concluded so easily.”

“You just said he was here to support you?”

“He came telling me to take sides, not that the Master favors the Great Young Master.”

With that ambiguous statement, the Fist Master stood up.

“You got a good welcome today.”

“It’s good that Master Fist joined the group.”

“Good?”

The Fist Master’s doubtful glance shifted from me to Ian and Cheon Sohui.

Their frozen expressions, I answered for them.

“Of course it’s difficult and uncomfortable for those two, but I’m sure they also feel happy.”

If it were Ian I know, she’d want to joke, ‘No, it’s not like that!’ but she firmly nodded.

“We’re really glad Master Fist joined!”

“Of course. A strong Master Fist, after all.”

Ian gave me a sharp look again at my joke.

The Fist Master pretended not to hear. Whether joke or not, being called a woman with a great body, even the ‘World’s Most Beautiful Woman’ wouldn’t be offended.

In fact, the one most affected by the Fist Master joining was not Ian but Cheon Sohui.

With a trembling voice she said to the Fist Master,

“I’ve made many mistakes, so you probably don’t believe me, but… I chose fist fighting, not swordsmanship, because I admire you. I want to be like you.”

Maybe from the drink or nerves, her face was flushed, but her eyes tried hard to show sincerity.

“I’m truly glad you joined the group.”

The Fist Master silently stared at her for a moment, then went down to the first floor.

Cheon Sohui stood as if she might collapse at any moment. I nodded to her approvingly, then called out to the Fist Master leaving the tavern.

“Next time, Master Fist, you buy the drinks!”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“But maybe there will be a welcome party for my father?”

The Fist Master stopped at the tavern entrance, snorted, and shook his head.

“The Master? Don’t even dream of it.”

And with that, he left.

Now only Ian, Cheon Sohui, and I remained. Ian and Cheon Sohui slumped into their seats as if collapsing.

“Ahhh! It’s over.”

Ian sighed with relief and held out her cup.

“Finally, I can drink comfortably. Let’s have a drink, Master.”

I toasted with her and drank.

Cheon Sohui’s hands trembled.

“I’ll drink later. I can’t even hold the cup now.”

When we were all together, we were swept up in the moment, but once Cheonma and the Fist Master left, it seemed like a dream. After all, she drank with Cheonma and told the Fist Master she admired him. Things she never imagined happened all in one day.

“Ah, I was so nervous, my whole body feels tight.”

“How about it? If I say drink again, can you?”

Cheon Sohui answered differently from how she looked.

“I was so exhausted… but this tension wasn’t bad.”

Having met me recently and stumbling through various things, she was the strongest woman of Dongkwonmun’s Iron Fist.

“It’s not can you drink, but I want to drink.”

“That kind of thrill really is exciting, isn’t it?”

Cheon Sohui smiled faintly in agreement.

Now my gaze shifted to Ian.

“How do you feel?”

“What do you think?”

After all, today was the day she received martial arts training from the Master.

“I wasn’t just happy that the Master taught me martial arts.”

“Then?”

“That he taught me means he officially accepted me, right?”

Though she didn’t say it aloud, my father personally teaching the Flying Sword Technique was an acknowledgment that she was close like family. The Flying Sword Technique was only passed to family.

“This will be a day I’ll never forget. Thank you, Master.”

“What did I do?”

“You said it yourself — to me, it was just a drinking party, but to Ian, it could change her life. Without those words, none of this would have happened.”

Ian remembered exactly what I said to my father.

“Today, I felt truly welcomed.”

I smiled brightly and patted her shoulder. Welcome, Ian.

And so ended the drinking gathering at the Pungnyu Tavern.

The welcome party ended, but my day did not.

When I returned to my place, an unexpected person waited.

Standing in my yard, looking up at the moonlit sky, was my older brother, Geommu Yang.

“When did you get here?”

“Just now.”

He must have waited a long time, judging by the feeling. What was he thinking while waiting?

“I drank with Master Fist. If I had known, I would have joined.”

Geommu Yang silently gazed at the moon.

I stood beside him.

“You look tired.”

His gaze turned from the moon to me.

“Yeah? I have a lot on my plate these days. How about you?”

He seemed gentler than usual. I sensed he was trying his best, struggling harder as he was cornered.

In some ways, I felt sorry for him. My regression made his life [N O V E L I G H T] harder. This fight was decided from the start — a man in his twenties could not defeat me. And I was getting stronger endlessly after regression.

Still, brother, we can’t live the same life. If we do, only death awaits us.

“Are you bothered that I meet the Fist Master?”

“I’d be lying if I said no.”

“I’m totally into fist fighting these days. You won’t believe me, right?”

“Would I believe you?”

“Meet martial lords comfortably, like Blood Heaven Butcher talking about books, Great Drunken Demon drinking with me. I’m fine.”

“You confident? It’s already four of you? Here’s some brotherly advice: Don’t underestimate martial lords. Just because they laugh in front of you doesn’t mean they’re your people. In the end, they choose what benefits them.”

I smiled at him.

“You mocking me?”

“No. When was the last time you gave me advice or scolded me? It’s been a long time.”

Geommu Yang turned and looked at the moonlit fence.

Between us is a wall many times higher and thicker than that fence.

“The Fist Master said he supports you. Father probably hopes so, too.”

Geommu Yang flinched.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why tell me that?”

“Brother, this is how I am. When the other person shows goodwill, I don’t throw a wrench in the works.”

I revealed my true feelings I hadn’t shared long ago.

“Do you know why I told the martial lords I’d fight for successor without bloodshed?”

“Why?”

Geommu Yang was genuinely curious.

“You did some bad things to me when I was young. You planted fear of the martial world in me and psychologically crushed me. Back then, just hearing ‘martial world’ made me shrink and tremble.”

It was the first time I brought this up. Geommu Yang’s pupils trembled. He probably thought I didn’t know. After all, he talked about everything, pretending to worry.

He didn’t deny it.

“Then revenge is the answer. Why no bloodshed?”

“You were bad only up to that point.”

“!”

“If you were worse, you’d have killed me. Destroyed my dantian or worse. But at least you weren’t the kind who wanted to be successor by harming your own brother. Bad enough for me to understand and forgive. You were young then.”

Of course, my father’s wishes were a big reason too.

“Crazy bastard, you’re nuts.”

I suddenly cursed, which he wasn’t used to. He looked embarrassed. Maybe deep inside, he was being questioned.

‘If you weren’t confident to be successor, what would have happened? Would you have just left your brother alone? Maybe you stopped because you had confidence.’

What kind of person is my brother?

Honestly, I don’t know. It never happened, and no one can guarantee what desperate people would choose.

“But don’t let your guard down. Both you and I are still on trial. If you kill me to become Master, no martial lord will truly follow you. Same for me. If you come to power by a weak scheme, no one will be truly loyal. Don’t forget. Though it seems not, the martial lords always watch us.”

Geommu Yang, staring quietly, suddenly said,

“Why have you gotten so talkative? You weren’t like this when you were younger.”

“Maybe all my inner energy went to my mouth.”

“Not funny at all.”

I wondered if one brick of the thick wall between us had broken from my first words. Hoping so, I nagged him more. I can’t help but nag my brother.

“Since I’ve become talkative, one last thing. They say there’s no coexistence in power struggles among brothers; they always kill each other. Who decided that? Why should we be swayed by such fools’ precedents and doubts who can’t even control their desires?”

I stepped forward, looking into his eyes.

“So don’t even dream about being swayed. If you ever feel I want to kill you, come find me. Seeing me will make those thoughts disappear. Don’t think I ignore you today! Don’t think I lost. Just think, the brat is talkative and clever. Don’t flare up! Don’t make hasty decisions!”

When I finished, Geommu Yang snapped,

“You bastard! I thought my ears would bleed. You said one last thing, but is this one thing? If you want to kill me, come find me! Kid lecturing me!”

He strode out.

You know, brother, though I find you hard, you’re hardest for me, even more than father or the Eight Martial Lords.

I looked up at the moon my brother was gazing at in the yard. A night when Blood Heaven Butcher’s words about family being enemies came to mind.

The next day and the day after, we trained hard.

We trained hard by day and by night. It was truly nonstop training.

After several days, today again, deep in the late-night training session.

Then.

Whoosh!

The Fist Master’s fist flew toward me.

It looked like a mistake, but it wasn’t.

Bang!

My fist and the Fist Master’s fist collided in midair.

Ian and Cheon Sohui were startled by the loud clash and looked at us.

We were throwing punches from the same stance, and our fists met in midair.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment.”

“That can happen.”

“How is it? Since we both used force, how about a duel?”

“The attempt was good, but I’ll pass.”

Finally, the Fist Master began his first true attempt to provoke me. He wanted to fight me about ten times more than I wanted to learn from him.

“If you’re going to refuse, why keep staring at me like that?”

It was probably a strange experience for him. Few would stare at him like that.

Now I want to really see the Fist Master. I’ve seen his fist first, but now I want to see him—clearly, without prejudice.

“I keep looking at your face because it’s less scary.”

The Fist Master shook his head with a look of disbelief and began putting on his clothes, signaling today’s training was over.

As he left, Ian and Cheon Sohui came to my sides and said,

“Liar!”

“The more we look, the scarier he is.”

I smiled faintly at their sincere teasing.

My gaze followed the Fist Master walking away. Showing his large, thick back, he walked alone into the darkness.

What I keep seeing is not his face, but that lonely back, where I see... myself before regression.