Descent of The Demon Master [EN]: Chapter 1921

“It’s unlikely, but….”

A calm voice pierces the heart.

“Don’t think that just because I’m locked up like this, I’m harboring resentment towards the Assembly. I believe the punishment I’m receiving is quite justified.”

“…I never thought that. I know you’re not the type, Master.”

Master smiles faintly at Wiggins.

“Yes. That’s why you’re a good student.”

“But… honestly, it’s not easy to understand. Or rather, I understand it in my head, but it’s not easy to accept.”

“You said it yourself.”

Master’s gaze softens.

“Knowledge and wisdom are different.”

“The reason why someone with much knowledge isn’t wise is because they can’t act on what they know. And what prevents them from acting on that knowledge is the resistance you’re talking about now.”

Wiggins nods quietly.

“Everything starts with oneself. If you understand where you stand and what you’re doing, you can change how you see others.”

“Master.”

“The Assembly has already gone too far.” Master shakes his head slowly.

“What flourishes is bound to decline, and what is stagnant is bound to decay. Those who discuss the greater good shouldn’t be swayed by affection for each other, and they shouldn’t believe that what they’re doing is right. Yes, Wiggins. Wasn’t that what you said to me?”

Wiggins can only nod.

This was clearly what he had said to Master about the overly rigid Round Table [a governing body or council].

“The Assembly hasn’t stagnated for as long as the Round Table. Or perhaps there was no stagnation at all.”

“Yes.”

“But the Assembly has gone through too much in a short time. Too many things have come and gone in the process. Wiggins, think about it. If you had to choose between the greater good you believe in and the Guild Leader’s life, which would you choose?”

Wiggins looks at Master silently.

The answer to this question is already there. He’s just not confident enough to say it out loud.

“Listen carefully, Wiggins.”

“Yes, Master.”

“If you’re going to be a villain, be a proper villain.”

Master takes a sip of water from the glass in his hand.

“Ordinary people say that powerless justice is pathetic. But I think differently. Powerless justice might be pathetic, but powerless evil is even worse.”

“Master…”

“You just need to remember one thing. There’s no creature more pathetic than a crow that mistakes itself for a heron. See the world through the eyes of a crow. Then everything will be clear.”

“That’s all. I have nothing more to say. I’m someone who has stepped down from the stage. The rest is up to you.”

Wiggins nods.

“Thank you, Master.”

“If the Guild Leader acknowledges my contribution, that is.”

“Yes.”

“Tell them to let me have some tea instead of hot water. My mouth is so bored…”

“…Understood.”

“Go now.”

“Yes.”

Wiggins bows deeply.

Master’s eyes sink deeply as he watches Wiggins turn and leave.

‘Well, I don’t know. Which is better.’

Hopefully, the tea will arrive in this prison soon.

Because the day he can drink that tea might not be far off.

Thud!

The door closes firmly.

Wiggins looks back with a new expression. The firmly closed iron door feels somehow awkward today.

‘A villain….’

He already knows that he is the villain.

But the evil that Master speaks of isn’t just about killing people or trampling on others for one’s own desires.

From his perspective, they might be the good guys, but from the perspective of others, they might be the good guys.

“Maybe….”

Wiggins moves his feet with a stiff face.

Maybe they are facing something completely different.

Grand classical music flows from a large speaker.

Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 in C minor, Resurrection.

The sound of the orchestra and vocals harmonizing pours out of the large speaker, filling the room with overwhelming grandeur.

The glass on the table vibrates from the loud sound.

The Black King sits on the sofa with his eyes closed, listening to the music.

The occasional movement of his fingertips is the only proof that he is not asleep.

And….

Those kneeling before him, heads bowed, remain like stone statues, unmoving despite the deafening music.

They are simply waiting for the long symphony to end.

Finally, the sound of the orchestra and the voices of the choir reach their peak, and the piece ends with a long lingering note.

Silence.

A low silence, so quiet that even breathing cannot be heard, falls, and the Black King, who had been tightly closed, slowly opens his eyes.

“Hmm.”

Liu Yang, who had been standing behind the Black King, quickly brings a glass, sets it down, and pours wine.

“How was it?”

“Well.”

The Black King smiles faintly.

“I don’t know much about music.”

The Black King, looking at the glass full of wine, picks it up and takes a sip.

“It’s the same as wine. I don’t know much about wine, but I drink it, and I don’t know much about music, but I listen to it. Is that strange?”

“Not at all. It’s the same with people. They live without knowing what life is or what tomorrow will bring.”

“You’re making a better interpretation than the dream itself.”

The Black King laughs softly.

“I’m just ignorant. Compared to the days I’ve lived, I’m excessively foolish and excessively stupid.”

He rises from his seat, holding the wine glass.

“If I weren’t so foolish, I could have found another way. But I’m a dull person, so I don’t know any other way.”

He looks at the Twelve Heavenly Generals kneeling before him.

“What do you think?”

No one dares to open their mouth.

“Do you have another way?”

“No, we do not.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

The Black King smiles faintly.

“You learn as you live. There’s no such thing as a perfect answer in this world. Or perhaps there is a perfect answer, but it’s something that humans can’t find.”

The Black King turns his head and looks out the window.

The view outside the window hasn’t changed at all.

New grass grows in the place where the old grass died, and new trees grow where dead trees have fallen and become fertilizer. It might not be exactly the same as the past scenery, but essentially, that place hasn’t changed at all.

Only the humans standing here have changed.

“If life were eternal, we would be searching for the answer. But there’s no one who knows the fact that life is finite as deeply as we returnees do. Isn’t that right?”

“The Black King is right.”

“Yes. It’s a sad thing.”

Step, step.

The Black King approaches the window and reaches out to touch the glass.

“Those who live one life are obsessed with fame. And they believe that they can achieve something at the end of that life. But those who have already lived one life know that building fame to pass on to future generations, and having something I’ve achieved be talked about, is just futile.”

The Black King laughs softly.

The people here have all left their mark on history in their own way. But what has changed because of that? All they saw when they returned to this world was a declining Martial World [a world where martial arts are dominant] and a predetermined future.

At that time, there were only two choices.

To climb to the top of the Martial World, which has become nothing but chaff, and live the life of a half-king, hiding from the eyes of the outside world.

Or to abandon their pride as martial artists and give up that life, and just blend into the outside world as ordinary people.

Perhaps neither of the two choices was a bad one. The life of a half-king might have been enjoyable, and with their abilities, it wouldn’t have been difficult to find happiness in the revealed world.

But….

The people gathered here were not satisfied with such things.

Those who have risked everything to reach the highest point cannot live believing that the ceiling painted with the sky is the sky.

That’s why the Black King made another choice.

A third choice that shouldn’t have existed.

And the people here are those who have risked their lives on the Black King’s choice.

“Two people have died.”

“It’s a sad thing. Yes, it’s sad that two people who shared our goals have died.”

The Black King turns his body and looks at the remaining Twelve Heavenly Generals.

“So, are you going to stop here?”

“No, we are not.”

The Black King laughs softly.

“We’ve already died once, no, twice. Is there any reason to be afraid of dying again?”

The Black King’s hand, which had been caressing the glass, pierces through it. Instead of breaking with a light impact, the glass slowly melts and the wine flows out, staining the Black King’s hand red.

“It’s not death that we fear. It’s dying without doing what we have to do that we fear. You all experienced that in your first lives, didn’t you?”

“Yes, we did!”

“Then…”

The Black King puts on a grotesque smile.

“Give your lives.”

“Forget about being judged by how you lived. Forget about being judged by how you died. Nothing will remain anyway. If that’s the case, then at least leave behind glory, not just traces. Die under that glory.”

“Yes!”

The Black King nods as the Twelve Heavenly Generals answer in unison.

“Let’s begin. Perhaps we won’t be able to meet again after today.”

The Black King looks at everyone and nods.

“What does it matter?”

A low laugh escapes.

“Go, you fools. The last one to die should give the first ones a middle finger.”

“Please take care!”

“Please survive!”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

The Twelve Heavenly Generals rise from their seats in unison. Then, they look at the Black King with serious eyes.

“Go!”

No answer is heard.

They simply turn and walk out the door.

The Black King silently watches the backs of the Twelve Heavenly Generals.

“Baek Yeon-hong.”

Baek Yeon-hong, who had remained until the end, turns his head to face the Black King.

“Do as you please.”

Baek Yeon-hong, glaring at the Black King with bloodshot eyes, bites his lip.

“Don’t treat people like idiots.”

“I know the difference between when to play and when not to.”

“Haha!”

“If we meet in hell, I’ll punch you in the face, you damn king.”

“Anytime.”

Baek Yeon-hong turns abruptly and exits through the door.

Finally, the Black King, left alone with Liu Yang, quietly looks down at his hand.

“My Lord.”

“It’s strange.”

The Black King wears a faint smile.

“I still have the emotion called tension. It feels somewhat exciting.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

The Black King walks back to the window and stands looking at the forest outside.

“The world doesn’t change.”

“But it’s humans who struggle to change that unchanging world. Yes. I am human, more than anyone else.”

The Black King’s eyes turn red as he grips the window.

“Now I can’t turn back either. I have no choice but to go to the end.”

The Black King turns without hesitation.

“Let’s go, Liu Yang. It’s my turn now.”

“Yes, my Lord! I will serve you until the end.”

Music begins to play again in the large living room, now empty of the two men.

More majestic, more intense than ever.