Chapter 31
Divine Power.
Among the abilities manifested through divine energy, some belong to a particularly rare class.
They were that rare. Even if two people possessed the same divine energy, there was no guarantee they would awaken the same divine power.
It wasn’t just about the energy itself—the difference came from the innate qualities unique to the vessel who wielded it.
‘This one, I won’t be able to imitate.’
That’s why the divine sight ability Gildang had shown me was something completely out of my reach.
Not only was it incompatible with me, I couldn’t even begin to grasp how I might approach it.
With most divine powers, I could at least pretend to copy them, but this one was in a whole different league.
And yet, surprisingly, that wasn’t all.
‘Lord, Jin-du’s sight is a bit limited, isn’t it? Why don’t you try experiencing it directly yourself?’
Before I could even ask what he meant, my vision blurred.
At the same time, the laughter I heard beside me changed into something else.
‘Then, see you in a bit!’
The mischievous laughter of Gildang turned into—
‘Heh, let’s see you try, you wretched spirit! Think you can stand up to a reaper?’
—the mocking voice of Sa-heun toward Geumchosan.
I turned my head. Sa-heun was standing next to me now, where Gildang had been.
And the place itself had changed.
From the Geumhwa Trading Company to Cheonmun Monastery deep in the mountains.
‘Huh?’
Sa-heun glanced my way, and his eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost.
‘How did you get here? And what’s with that appearance?’
‘It just… sort of happened.’
Too long to explain. I gave a vague answer instead.
Besides, I was too distracted by a strange sensation tugging at me, urging me to look around.
‘So in that brief moment, only your consciousness was sent here.’
This had to be one of the rarest of divine powers.
Even among divine powers, many were trivial. But this—this was incredibly useful.
‘Depending on how it’s used, one could scout any place—even deep within enemy territory.’
The Geum family’s archives truly held treasures of immeasurable value.
‘The world is vast indeed.’
To think such a relic existed without ever being known until now.
No matter how experienced one was, it was arrogance to assume one knew it all.
‘Don’t tell me… you died in that brief instant?’
Sa-heun, having pieced together part of the situation, cracked a joke.
Having spent days side by side, he seemed more at ease with me now.
That wasn’t bad—but this wasn’t the time to deepen our bond.
‘Wait a moment.’
I told Sa-heun to hold on and carefully scanned the surroundings again.
That strange feeling from when I arrived.
At first, I thought it was just the wonder of experiencing divine power, that the world simply looked different through it.
But as I looked around the grand monastery, an odd dissonance nagged at me.
A sense that I was overlooking something important.
‘What is it?’
I forced myself to slow down and looked again.
And then, I found it.
The source of that dissonance.
‘That…’
At the altar where a great Buddha statue stood.
A tiny mark.
No, it was more like graffiti.
Like a child scribbling in a temple.
Yet my eyes trembled at the sight, because I recognized it from memory.
‘Did Jin-cheon pass through here?’
Now I understood that strange sensation.
It was connection.
‘To think I’d come across Jin-cheon’s mark in a place like this.’
It felt far too coincidental to be chance.
I had been fortunate to gain a new life, sought out Gildang in the archives, got caught up in a bet over stray spirits, and now ended up here.
Not a single one of these experiences was ordinary—yet they all seemed connected.
‘Clumsy or not, everything ends up tied together.’
That’s why it was called fate.
‘I never thought I’d find your trace in such a place, Jin-cheon.’
At first I was stunned. Then a smile crept to my lips.
The heavens’ intent in weaving such threads didn’t matter.
Whether fate or coincidence, what mattered was the joy of finding traces of an old friend.
‘Even if that friend was a bit of an idiot.’
The thought made me laugh aloud.
To call it a “mark” was generous—it was basically graffiti.
And now, he’d even scrawled beneath a Buddha statue.
‘Only Jin-cheon would do something so sacrilegious.’
There was no doubt it was genuine.
No one else with his marking would dare such antics.
‘I’ll have to erase it after confirming it.’
Taoists and monks didn’t get along, pursuing different paths.
But even so, disrespect was unacceptable.
Graffiti beneath a Buddha statue was something even a friend deserved to be scolded for.
I decided then—when I grew old and finally crossed into the afterlife, I’d find Jin-cheon and give him an earful.
‘At last, I’ll get to curse at you face-to-face.’
Something I could never do as a sword, but now possible as a man.
I already looked forward to it.
But then…
‘Zhiji Ziyou (知己之友). What’s that supposed to mean?’
The mark translated to the idiom: a true friend who knows one’s heart.
The meaning was simple, but why would he leave it here?
I searched for hidden mechanisms or clues, but found nothing beyond the mark.
Given Jin-cheon’s love of pranks and eccentricities, it wasn’t surprising.
He may have left it just to tease whoever recognized it later.
That was entirely like him.
If so, I could have dismissed it as nothing more.
But the words lingered in my mind.
‘What was in your heart when you left this here?’
If a true friend understands one’s heart… did that mean I wasn’t one?
‘Hah.’
A sigh escaped.
How could I just walk away now?
‘He’s pulled me in completely.’
Had he planned it this way?
To keep me from ignoring it?
Maybe not—but one thing was certain.
‘He might have been exasperating, but…’
I knew him better than anyone.
We had spent the most time together, faced life and death together, shared countless moments.
Whatever Jin-cheon might have thought, I could say it proudly.
He was my friend.
So whether this was a prank or not, I had no choice but to see it through.
Because that’s what a friend does.
‘Though honestly, it’s kind of annoying.’
Couldn’t he have written more than four measly characters?
I grumbled, then chuckled to myself.
That too was just like Jin-cheon.
‘He wants to play again, huh.’
Fine. I’ll play along. Let’s see where this goes.
But if it turns out to be nothing, he’d better be ready for payback—even if I have to chase him down in hell.
‘Still, I can’t uncover much more like this.’
Since only my consciousness was here, I couldn’t touch anything.
If I wanted to investigate properly, I’d need to come in person soon.
‘Another task added to the pile.’
As if I didn’t already have enough to deal with.
‘Seems this life won’t be one of leisure after all.’
Well, in my past life I only enjoyed peace at the very end.
And truthfully, being busy suited me better.
Though who knows—I might think differently if it ever becomes too much.
‘Feels like it’s time to head back.’
The intuition struck me.
Before returning, I sought out Sa-heun and Jin-du.
‘Are you done here, lord?’
‘Roughly. But I don’t see Jin-du?’
‘Over there.’
Sa-heun pointed to the floor.
The ground stirred lightly.
Beeeeep—
A faint cry.
Jin-du was hidden within the earth.
I didn’t need to ask why.
The monastery was large, and there were still many people moving about.
Sa-heun and I were invisible to them—but not Jin-du.
If discovered, he’d be captured before Geumchosan even got to him. Hiding was the only choice.
‘So this is another setback for Geumchosan?’
Perhaps, but not a fatal one.
The real difficulty had been breaching the monastery’s divine barrier.
‘If he can get this far, finding Jin-du underground won’t be too hard.’
If he got this far.
Knowing how impossible that was, I decided to extend a small kindness.
‘If Geumchosan does somehow make it here, Jin-du is forbidden from fleeing with him.’
“…Yes.”
Sa-heun nodded calmly, but his expression flickered.
Clearly, if I hadn’t said it, that’s exactly what he would have done.
‘For him, that would be the surest way to make Geumchosan fail the test.’
Understandable. But—
‘The trial is about pursuit, not capture. You understand, don’t you?’
Otherwise, it would simply be deceiving Geumchosan.
He would never pass under those conditions.
Jin-du and Gildang together had already driven the reaper into a corner.
If Jin-du then joined forces with the reaper?
If I were Geumchosan, I’d just give up and ascend.
After resisting with all my might, of course.
‘If that is your will, lord, I shall obey.’
Sa-heun knew full well this was already nearly impossible for Geumchosan.
Which was why he could only agree.
Just as we finished arranging the terms, my vision wavered.
As if someone had been listening all along.
At the perfect moment.
‘It’d be stranger if he weren’t listening.’
After all, this was Gildang’s divine power.
And with Jin-du in the ground as his eyes, nothing here escaped him.
The only difference was, this time he gave me a moment instead of whisking me away instantly.
A courtesy, perhaps.
‘Truly a broken ability.’
When I returned, I would need to discuss this divine power with Gildang.
See if there was any way I could learn it.
Unlikely—but worth the attempt.
Either way, it was far too useful to ignore.
Both for the Geum family now, and for the work I intended to do in the future.
Maybe I really did need to learn it.
‘It seems time to return. Farewell, my lord.’
‘We’ll meet again soon.’
‘Yes.’
And with that final farewell, my vision shifted completely back.
