The death of the Suksin Khan shattered the tribe’s resolve. Leaderless and broken, they disintegrated into fleeing bands, easily pursued and subjugated by the relentless Imperial Army.

In the aftermath, Jin Cheon-hee, Cheon Woo, and Sama Hyeon lay unconscious, unable to rise. The magnitude of the enemy they had faced defied common sense; by all rights, even their combined strength should have been insufficient against such a monstrous force.

Yet, whispers of their miraculous victory were already circulating in secret.

“Bold. Truly bold. To think they bypassed General Yuk Heon of the Scorching Yang and took the Khan’s head!”

In truth, the head had been taken by Zhuge Rin. The one who exploded it was also Zhuge Rin. But the master merely fanned himself leisurely, the very picture of nonchalance, as if he had been a mere spectator to the carnage.

“I do not know who delivered the final blow, nor does it matter,” Zhuge Rin remarked coolly. “The fact remains: they achieved a great merit.”

“Keuk… I should have fought alongside them.”

“It was a strategy only possible because Wangya Ju drained the enemy’s energy first.”

“Truly bold and meticulous! Hmm! Indeed! I heard the eldest, the Blue-Eyed Mad Physician, holds the greatest merit.”

The Master, who had personally decapitated and detonated the enemy leader, nodded sagely.

“Hohoho, indeed. That child is talented, but he insists on courting danger. I do not know how much gray hair he gives me.”

Outside, the roar of soldiers chanting—‘One Light! Martial God! One Light! Martial God!’—rang out like a rhythmic thunder.

“The mobilization order will finally be lifted,” someone noted. “Most will return home, though a garrison will remain. Still… the conscripts will see their families again.”

“That is fortunate.”

“Martial artists can finally return home too.”

“Indeed.”

Zhuge Rin narrowed his eyes, a thoughtful shadow passing over his face.

“The White Qilin Medical Pavilion cannot withdraw yet.”

“It cannot be helped, can it? Since my unfilial disciple has not opened his eyes.”

“You must be very worried.”

“…”

Wangya Ju spoke up, her voice firm. “Your disciple saved my life twice. To repay that grace, I will take responsibility and block their recommendation for officialdom.”

“I am grateful beyond words.”

“…My goodness. I never imagined receiving such heartfelt gratitude for blocking a path to power.” Wangya Ju scratched her head vigorously, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “I only hope the disciple wakes up soon. It worries me that a hero of the nation is lying unconscious.”

“He will wake up soon. His condition is stable.”

“The White Qilin Divine Physician seems to be making a habit of this.”

Zhuge Rin sighed, the sound heavy with weary resignation. “I suspect he is clearing his past karma this way.”

“Kuhehehe, I know how you lived in your youth. But surely it takes a lifetime to clear that much karma? Shouldn’t you suffer more?”

“…”

He’s enduring it once because I’m a royal.

Pung Ju-ha swallowed hard inwardly. The Blood Qilin wasn’t given that title for nothing; even with age, his temper remained a dormant volcano. But whether he held it back or not, what did she care? What good was being a royal if she couldn’t speak her mind?

Pung Ju-ha laughed like a fool. Puhehehe.

“If you laugh too much, your wounds will open.”

“I think they already opened a bi… Ueok!!”

This battle had been brutal for her as well.

Ten days had passed since Jin Cheon-hee collapsed. Finally, the day had come for the disciple to wake.

***

In the darkness, the Condor Dragon whispered.

[The Heavenly Design will soon tear completely.]

His voice was terrifyingly calm. Drifting in the murky boundary between consciousness and oblivion, Jin Cheon-hee asked a question with his thoughts.

What is so bad about the Heavenly Design being completely destroyed?

[One of two things. The time of destruction may be hastened, or it may be delayed.]

Destruction…

Hearing the Condor Dragon speak of it, the end seemed like a story unfolding on the doorstep, not in some distant future. However, the answer was frustratingly vague.

So, you mean no one knows what will happen?

[That is so. Does it not mean escaping the fate ordained by the Heavens?]

I thought you’d threaten my life or something… But it seems I’m still okay.

[That does not sound like the thoughts of a man who has been comatose for ten days.]

Ugh, bullseye.

The Condor Dragon continued.

[Those who seek to restore the Heavenly Design will move in earnest. It does not disappear so easily. Fate is like that, kid.]

The creature sounded almost amused.

[That weight.]

…

[Can you handle that weight?]

People in this world never give background information when trying to explain something. We need a pamphlet: ‘Efficient Heavenly Design Education for Mortals: Focusing on Academic Research Journals.’

These entities only spoke in riddles, leaving mere mortals to organize the chaos. It was a shitty job.

First… There is fate in the world, and the higher-ups roughly decide human life, death, and history. Based on their decisions, the human world eventually gets destroyed, right?

[That is so.]

Are the opinions of the people directly involved in that life, death, and history reflected?

[One’s own fate can be partially changed by one’s own resolve.]

Th… That might be true, but it seems the right to know how one’s fate was decided is completely ignored.

[Right to know?]

Yes. Humans have the right to know who defines their life and death. Listening to you, my guess is that those high-ups in the Celestial Realm are concealing individual fates instead of revealing them. That is troubling.

He added one more thought.

And about that destruction of the world. Were the opinions of the residents of the human world reflected in that decision?

He felt the Condor Dragon staring at him as if thinking, ‘Is this bastard crazy?’ But what had to be said, had to be said.

Ultimately, this is similar to urban redevelopment. You might decide to demolish a building to build something new. However, to do that, isn’t it right to obtain the consent of the residents first?

[I merely asked if you would bear the weight of that fate.]

Jin Cheon-hee nodded mentally.

Naturally, I have to bear my own fate. But I don’t know why I have to bear the fate of others.

[I told you, you changed the Heavenly Design?]

Did you notify the residents of the human world about their individual fates?

[Why would the Jade Emperor do that?]

Or was there a process of collecting the opinions of the tenants before the demolition and redevelopment of the human world?

[…The time of destruction is coming.]

Then I resist this process. I have no intention of bearing the weight of others, but first, I will bear my own weight as a resident of the human world.

Crazy… This guy was insane. However, he didn’t feel like a madman; rather, a strange, cold intelligence permeated his words. Jin Cheon-hee was oddly rational.

[…Right. I understand well your opinion that you merely save people believing in the future.]

The Condor Dragon attempted to interpret the mortal’s ramblings in its own way.

[I shall pray that your faith is not betrayed.]

With that, the Condor Dragon began to recede into the void. Jin Cheon-hee’s consciousness gradually returned, and the only thought the modern man had was…

The organization called the Celestial Realm is severely deficient in terms of human rights and administrative transparency.

***

When he opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming through a window. He had expected to wake up in a field tent, but instead, he saw a ceiling built of sturdy wood and stone.

With just that detail, Jin Cheon-hee understood immediately.

“The war is over.”

“Wow, look how fast he grasps the situation.”

Turning his head toward the voice, he saw Sama Hyeon lying on the bed next to him. His leg was splinted, and his body was covered in bandages. There were four beds in the room; it seemed they were treating the wounded here after the battle.

“Hyung, are you awake?”

“Is Cheon Woo okay?”

“I am fine.”

Cheon Woo, who also had a splint on one arm, spoke up. Seeing that everyone looked strangely relieved, it seemed only Jin Cheon-hee had been unconscious for so long.

“How long did I sleep?”

“About… ten days? We woke up after being out for a few days, but Hyung slept like the dead continuously.”

“I see.”

“Second Brother visited in between.”

“I didn’t know because I was sleeping.”

Jin Cheon-hee checked his own condition. Surprisingly, nothing felt broken. Or perhaps it had broken, and the Sacred Jewel had already knitted him back together. Regardless, no major wounds were visible, though traces of his Master’s handiwork—stitches on lacerations below his flank and calf—were evident.

Hm… I made him sew his disciple’s body again…

He had no face to show his Master.

Outside, the cheering continued. ‘One Light! Martial God! One Light!’

“One Light?”

“Among the Ten Greatest Masters under the Heavens, you’re the only one with ‘Gwang’ attached to your title, right? So I guess it’s solidifying like that. Hyung.”

“Let’s just go with Blue-Eyed Mad Physician.”

“Don’t worry~ Everyone knows that already.”

…I see. If it were a game, maybe he would have unlocked a new title.

“Eugeugeuk.”

“Don’t push yourself, Hyung.”

“…Right. You should lie down a bit more.”

Master’s voice cut through the air.

How on earth did he know? It seemed he had rushed over, ghost-like, the moment Jin Cheon-hee stirred.

Jin Cheon-hee tried to pay his respects. “Master, your disciple has woken up safely.”

“…”

Zhuge Rin stared intently at Jin Cheon-hee. Then, he grabbed both of his disciple’s cheeks and pulled—streeetch.

“There were no broken places this time.”

“Yes. I tried to preserve my limbs intact.”

“Instead, your brothers collapsed from exhaustion together.”

At those words, Cheon Woo spoke urgently, “Ah, we are rather relieved that we could fight together.”

“Yeah yeah~ It’s better than nursing an unconscious Hyung through the changing seasons.”

Fearing Master might scold their brother more, the two brothers quickly expressed that they were relieved and perfectly fine with the outcome.

Zhuge Rin nodded slowly. “Right. You did well.”

“Yes?”

“At least you didn’t shoulder everything alone again. Still…”

Jju-u-u-uk—

He pulled his disciple’s cheeks again, harder.

“Eueoeoeoeo! Masther, it hurths! (Master, it hurts!)”

“Next time, let’s try to get hurt a little less.”

“Yeh! (Yes!)”

Zhuge Rin sighed in relief. His disciple was simply that kind of existence—someone who couldn’t stand seeing a fire without trying to put it out. If in the past he didn’t know what to do and urgently covered the flames with his own body, now he had at least learned to use buckets and water.

The Wudang Fist Emperor told me to raise him like a weed… Am I raising him properly? The Master who had followed his disciple into the hell of war pondered. Right. At this rate, am I not raising him with too much freedom?

Then, the voice of Wangya Ju calling from outside was heard. Zhuge Rin made a brief expression of annoyance, then smoothed his features and walked out elegantly. His very being was beautiful, resembling a noble crane.

Sama Hyeon and Cheon Woo watched that retreating figure with eyes that said they were thoroughly fed up.