Part 27 - Dark Heaven Venerable One
The first rooster crowed.
The streets of Luoyang, with midwinter now past, greeted a dawn that was slowly beginning to brighten.
People who had no choice but to stay diligent just to survive began to fill the roads.
"Have you heard?"
Mr. Jang, the owner of a trinket shop, tossed out the opening line.
"…Could it be that rumor about the Black Bone Sect from last night?"
Mr. Tak, the owner of a woodworking shop—who would normally have waved off Mr. Jang's stories as mere hearsay—unexpectedly played along.
But since the subject of the rumor was what it was, they could only trade words in low voices.
"I heard five of their dens got smashed in a single night."
"Five? I heard it was seven."
"Oh? And where did you hear that?"
Mr. Tak crooked his fingers, signaling Mr. Jang to come closer.
When Mr. Jang leaned in with a face full of curiosity, Mr. Tak quietly opened his mouth.
"My elder brother-in-law works at the yamen, doesn't he? He said all of Luoyang was on alert all night. And according to what the yamen investigated…"
"In one night—seven places?"
Mr. Tak nodded.
"No, I heard it was ten."
At the sudden interruption, Mr. Tak flinched so hard he nearly toppled over.
When he looked around in alarm, he saw that merchants had gathered in a long, dense row before he knew it.
"No, no—Wang down the street says it was fifteen…"
"What are you talking about? I heard thirty!"
As much as the common folk feared the Black Bone Sect, stories about them spread fast.
Before long, the rumor grew a tail and then another, until anywhere even a few people gathered, there was no end to talk of the Black Bone Sect.
"They say not a single corpse was left behind."
"A corpse? I heard there wasn't even a drop of blood left!"
"They say so many people vanished without a trace, you can't even count them!"
These tales always ended with the same question.
"Who on earth did it?"
***
"Then… you're telling me there's no information at all?"
Geumju's clothes and ornaments were lavish beyond measure.
But no matter how one looked at her, she still seemed outclassed by the sheer opulence of the room she stood in.
"At what point did I ever tell you that, you wench? That the Great Luoyang Sword Clan has no information?"
At the middle-aged man's low question from the seat of honor, Geumju felt a chill crawl up the back of her neck.
"I beg your pardon."
The man clicked his tongue at Geumju, who bowed her head deeply.
"You don't even know your place. Over something that trivial, you dare come and bother me from early morning, when I'm busy?"
At the words something that trivial, Geumju bristled inside, but she only lowered her head further.
"I'm sorry, honored elder."
Truthfully, considering the position of the man before her, anything connected to the Black Bone Sect could only be a small matter.
"I think you're the one who's mistaken."
The man lifted a finger and tapped an exquisitely precious ebony table.
"Do you think I gave you a Sword Clan Bronze Token because of your father's influence?"
Geumju's adoptive father, Geumjil, was a man whose dreadful reputation shook Luoyang's Underworld—yet he still could not dare compare himself to the name of the Sword Clan.
"H-how could that be? This girl never entertained such a thought, not even for an instant."
She flattened herself to the floor.
The man glanced at the hourglass on the ebony table.
"Because of you, the time I've wasted is already approaching 15 minutes."
He accepted the stack of documents a secretary maid offered with utmost respect and spoke as he did.
Besides that maid, other maids stood in line, each holding armfuls of paperwork as they waited.
"Get out of my sight."
As Geumju bowed and retreated, the man's voice followed her.
"Disappoint me one more time, and I'll pass that Sword Clan Bronze Token to someone else."
Face burning red, Geumju hurried out of the massive palace hall.
Damn it. I couldn't even bring up hiring a master from the Sword Clan.
Given the mood, if she had tried, she likely would have been dealt with on the spot.
When she stepped onto the main road, she saw a troop of warriors.
Even at a glance, the swords they wore looked anything but ordinary—Luoyang Sword Clan warriors moving in disciplined formation toward somewhere unknown.
They felt like a different class entirely from the Underworld martial artists she commanded.
…Damn it.
Turning away, Geumju thought through the options she had left.
"Oof—sorry."
A man who had nearly collided with her offered a clipped apology.
"It's fine. I also made a—"
She tried to speak, but the man was already striding away in haste.
As though she didn't even exist.
You Sword Clan dogs…!
Whether or not Geumju glared at his back, the man didn't care. He hurried toward his superior officer's quarters.
Though clearly located on the outer grounds, the small residence was so shabby it made plain the contempt their department received.
He flung open his superior's door in one motion.
"Get up! The sun's already high in the sky!"
Books on astronomy and dust-caked astronomical instruments hinted at their post.
They were the Sword Clan's archetypal idle post—astronomy officials.
In an age soaked in materialism, when fewer and fewer people believed in superstition as the days passed, the value of their existence had faded.
Worse still, as weather officials who analyzed and predicted the skies peeled away from the work, the astronomy officials were left with even less to do.
"Grrrkk…"
The superior showed no sign of waking.
The man pinched his nose at the booze-stinking air and kicked the superior—who was out cold.
"U-ugh?! What is it?!"
Still clutching an empty bottle, the superior rolled right off the bed.
"It's trouble!"
The man poured a bowl full of cold water and handed it over.
"…What is it at this hour?"
Of course, it was late morning now, not dawn.
"Ah, I drank too much. I feel like I'm dying."
The superior didn't even try to get up. He set the cold water aside and yawned as he rubbed the crust from his eyes.
Regardless, the man dragged over a chair and sat.
"Last night, I was on duty."
The superior looked at him as if he were pathetic.
"You're still pulling duty alone every day? Seriously. Who's going to appreciate that?"
The man ignored him and continued.
"An ill omen."
The superior frowned.
"Omens aren't rare."
"A great ill omen."
Only then did the superior's mind clear a little.
"A great ill omen? What was it?"
After hesitating briefly, the man spoke.
"Last night… I believe I observed the Heavenly Slaughter Star."
At the words Heavenly Slaughter Star, the superior grabbed the cold water he'd shoved aside and gulped it down.
Then he dumped what remained over his own face.
"…Are you serious? The Heavenly Slaughter Star?"
In a sunken voice, the man went on.
"As you know, it's extremely difficult to observe. Its position isn't fixed, and its shape and color…"
"Vary. And the window where it's observable is short, too."
Rubbing his face, the superior asked again.
"You're sure? That legendary Heavenly Slaughter Star? We only ever studied it from books."
"…If you're asking whether I'm completely certain, I can't say it cleanly."
When a subordinate with a personality as meticulous as his phrased it that way, it was the same as saying it was accurate.
"Insane…"
Ever since ancient times, whenever it appeared, the Heavenly Slaughter Star had been accompanied by a horrific history of bloodshed.
"Shouldn't we report it upward?"
The superior let out a long sigh.
"Report this? In this day and age, who would believe us—especially if we say it's the Heavenly Slaughter Star?"
"…That…"
The man grimaced. Even he had no counterargument.
"Then at least we should report it to our organization's supervising inspector…"
"Our supervising inspector? Sure, we should—but I doubt it'll mean much."
"I suppose that's true, but…"
Their organization—the Astronomy Pavilion—had a supervisor who was the most powerless 'powerful' figure in the Sword Clan.
Swordless—Yeon Sang-hyeon.
***
In the furthest corner of Luoyang, past corner after corner, there was a slum tucked into alleys within alleys.
That alley boiled with the poor.
It was the sort of place any normal person would avoid.
And yet, not only ordinary folk, but even famous merchants and high officials would come there.
For one reason only.
Luoyang's greatest prophet lived there.
A "pit dwelling" was a hole dug into the earth, covered with straw mats and packed with dirt—just enough space for a person to sit inside.
An old blind man sat within one such hut wedged between buildings.
So many people came to that filthy, perilous alley just to see that one man.
Even if they didn't believe on ordinary days, when life became uncertain, wasn't it human to cling to anything at all?
"O-oh…"
His name was never given, so the old man was simply called the Pit-Dwelling Master. His bony body trembled violently.
"The sun… the sun isn't visible…"
He was blind.
Whatever the reason he had lost his eyes, it wasn't as though he'd been able to see the sun for a day or two.
And yet, his words carried a weight like a true word of power—enough that no one could dismiss them.
"The heavens…"
He raised his dried-up arms—arms with no flesh to speak of.
They shook like quaking aspens.
He was searching the sky for the sun.
But the brilliant sun could no longer be found there.
"The sky is pitch-black. The sun has been covered. I can no longer see the sun."
In the vision of his spirit eye, the heavens were black as ink.
Not a speck of light remained. Layer upon layer of thick cloud smothered the sky.
There was no moon, no stars.
It had been more than a full sixty-year cycle since he had torn out his own living eyes and gained that spirit sight—yet he had never witnessed a scene like this in all his life.
"T-this is?!"
As he stared upward without end, the old man's body jerked as if struck by lightning.
With difficulty, he forced one word after another into a sentence.
"Dark Heaven…! The master of Dark Heaven has appeared!"
The man who had never once risen from his seat since settling in the slums—stood up.
If he truly had not walked for so many years, his muscles should have wasted away so completely that standing would be impossible.
But he rose.
His thin legs trembled beyond control, yet he paid it no mind.
"The Magic Scripture…! Has it awakened?! Has that ancient demonic monstrosity—one that devours darkness and makes the heavens tremble—appeared?!"
The skeletal body, draped in ragged scraps, emerged from the hut.
Shaking with rapture, he shouted.
"The master of Dark Heaven has appeared! He who will punish evil men from the deepest darkness has descended! Rejoice, you who have nothing—rejoice, you who cannot eat! In place of the indifferent heavens and earth, the Dark Heaven Venerable One, who will bring down black lightning, has come!!"
The old man's bony body began to dance, as though burning the final sparks of his last life.
The slum-dwellers who witnessed it murmured from afar.
In their minds, the old man's final prophecy branded itself clearly.
And another rumor was added to Luoyang.
"If you meet a ghostly spirit wearing a white mask, lower your head and pay your respects. If he asks of your sins, answer without hiding anything. For he is the agent of heavenly punishment—the Dark Heaven Venerable One! Great sinners who never knew fear of heaven will not dare flee before him!"