SDG 39

Chapter 39

The bird’s nest, sturdily built with branches large and small, looked old even at a glance.
Yet, the fact that it still retained its shape after so long must mean that the bird who built it did so with great care and effort.

Ha ha ha.

A laugh escaped me.
No matter how I thought about it, I’d gone too far.

“Come on, as if a person would actually build something like a bird’s nest and live in it.”

The crazy one was me, for even considering that possibility.

Even if the nest were big enough for a person to barely squeeze themselves inside—

“…It is pretty big, though.”

It was indeed a bird’s nest of remarkable size.
Perhaps it belonged to the king of eagles. That seemed plausible enough; some eagles were larger than a man, after all.

“Maybe one of them liked nesting in places with lots of people passing by.”

Of course, if such an eagle really existed, I doubted the monks here would be too pleased about it.
Then again, who knows—perhaps these monks loved eagles so much they wouldn’t be able to resist letting it stay.

“Honestly, who would like it—or even allow it—if someone decided to live in that thing?”

The monks and visitors passed through here more than anywhere else. There’s no way the monks of Cheonmun Temple would have permitted such madness.
It made more sense to assume an eagle had nested there than a human.

So, that couldn’t be what I was looking for.
I decided as much and turned to leave—

Hoo…

But my feet wouldn’t move. Only a sigh came out.

Because no matter how much I tried to deny it, the answer was already there.

The mark.
That damned mark carved into the nest.

[Jincheon stayed here.]

Just like that.
That bastard.

“You crazy bastard. What are you, a bird?”

There were perfectly good buildings all around, and yet he chose to build a nest to live in.

I wasn’t even angry anymore—it was just absurd.

Still, I had to admit: sleeping in trees wasn’t the worst idea.
There were benefits.
I’d done it many times while wandering the martial world—sleeping in trees kept you safe from wild beasts, and your position could be hidden from possible enemies.

But never once had I built a nest.
At most, I’d just spread out a cloth and slept.

“You weren’t even in good health… you could’ve at least tried to sleep comfortably.”

Then again…
Who else but you, Jincheon, would pull something like this?

The image of Jincheon gleefully building this ridiculous nest made me laugh.

“Yeah… that’s just like you. Completely you.”

No one told him to do it; he did it because he wanted to. So, there was no reason to be upset.

“A bit late, but congratulations on your new home.”

And what comes after congratulations? A housewarming, of course.

“Now, what should I bring as a housewarming gift? Ah—this will do nicely.”

A green leaf fluttered down from the tree.
I caught it gently before it hit the ground, trimmed it a little, and soon fashioned a small grass flute.

“You like it, don’t you? You used to love these.”

Holding the flute, I leapt up into the tree and saw Jincheon’s “home” up close.

“Huh. He actually did a good job with it.”

From below, I hadn’t seen the full structure—it had enough space to stretch out and lie down, not just crouch.
Even a few simple household items lay neatly in a corner, long unused.

But none of that caught my eye for long.
Because something inside the nest did.

“Are you the new owner of this place?”

At my words, the creature lounging by the edge gave a short meow.

Meow.

In Jincheon’s absence, a black cat had taken his place.

“You’re something else, climbing all the way up here.”

The tree might not have been a thousand-year-old giant, but it was close—so tall even an agile cat would struggle to reach the top.
But looking at the black cat, I realized such feats were hardly surprising for it.

Meow~.

It purred happily, like a child pleased with praise.
It seemed to understand my words—and those deep, knowing eyes made it certain.

“So you’re a spiritual creature, huh?”

Indeed, the black cat radiated a faint spiritual aura.
Not quite on the level of the White Tiger, but perhaps a bit stronger than Geumdu, who hovered on the edge of true sentience.

Still, that was impressive in itself.

“Spiritual beasts aren’t exactly common.”

To see one even once in a lifetime was enough to make others envious.
Most people never saw one at all, dismissing them as legends.

But this was already my third encounter in this life.
At this point, it felt like I had some strange affinity with them.

Of course, this one was different from the White Tiger or Geumdu.

“You must really like it here, huh?”

The cat looked perfectly content—relaxed, peaceful, happy.
It reminded me of the calm serenity Beopun once described.

Meow~.

The sound made it clear—our connection would end here.
The cat had no intention of ever leaving this place.

Even knowing that, I couldn’t help but feel reluctant.
Sure, I envied whatever spiritual ability it might have—but truthfully, it was just… cute.

“Maybe your power is that cuteness.”

The thought was ridiculous, but it made me laugh.
Still, I wouldn’t take it away against its will.

Yet, just in case…

“Would you like to come with me?”

I had to ask.

Meow.

The black cat stood up.
For a moment, I hoped it would walk over—but of course, it didn’t.

Instead, it padded to the far end of the branch, sat down, and stared at me, as if saying, ‘Do your business and go.’

And then I saw why.

“Don’t tell me… you were guarding this?”

Beneath where the cat had been sitting lay several thin wooden boards—dozens of them, stacked neatly.
Each one bore Jincheon’s mark.

Even after a hundred years, the boards were perfectly preserved—not a single crack or rot.
They weren’t stone, but wood. A miracle they’d survived at all.

I didn’t even need to ask. The cat had been protecting them all this time.

I was both shocked and deeply moved.
Yet even then, my eyes lingered on the cat.

“Now I want to take you even more… but I can’t, can I?”

A sigh escaped me.

To repay kindness with selfishness would be shameful.

“I’ll make sure you’re properly rewarded. I’ll ask the abbot to bring you something you like every day.”

Meow~.

It purred again, as if to say, ‘That’s enough.’
It even looked like it was smiling—like a child who’d just been praised.

That innocent joy warmed me.

“Focus.”

I shook my head, pushing away my lingering greed.
If I really cared for the cat, I needed to move quickly.
I had to see what Jincheon had written on those boards—then return them to their rightful place.

Lifting the top board, I smiled.

“Don’t take it personally.”

Jincheon might be a little offended that I was thinking more of the cat than his own writings.

But what could I say?

“If you’re jealous, you should’ve been cute too.”

Instead of cute, all he ever did was cause trouble.

“…Looks like you’ve caused trouble again, haven’t you?”

At first, I skimmed the text lightly, amused.
But soon, my expression hardened.

The more I read, the heavier my heart grew.

Because what was written there was…

“…So that’s what you were doing, holed up here after leaving Mount Hwasan. You were creating a new martial art.”

That, by itself, wasn’t the problem.

The problem was what kind of martial art it was.

“You lunatic… you actually created a demonic art?”

And its name—

“Jaha Magong? (Violet Demonic Art?)”

Jincheon, Jincheon…

You built a bird’s nest in a tree, and now this.

“You didn’t do this for fun, did you? Were you actually insane?”

No, even Jincheon—reckless as he was—wouldn’t create a demonic art for fun.
Not while giving it a name like Jaha.

That left only two possibilities.

“Either you truly went mad…”

Or—

“You were that desperate.”

The fiery anger I’d felt cooled into a cold stillness.
Jincheon had been one of the strongest people I’d ever known.
I couldn’t believe he’d gone mad.
He wasn’t someone who’d break that easily.

“If that’s true…”

Then he only seemed mad—because he was fighting desperately.

And that meant—

“He must have realized that even the spiritual energy of Cheonmun Temple couldn’t purge the Heavenly Demon’s Qi from his body.”

That thought made me sigh deeply.
And then—rage returned, this time directed elsewhere.

“I should’ve cut off the Heavenly Demon’s head, not just his arms.”

After all, Jincheon got the worse end of that fight.
From where I stood, he’d been the superior fighter.
It wasn’t a matter of skill—

“The Heavenly Demon’s martial art is simply more destructive than Hwasan’s.”

That wasn’t to say Hwasan’s martial arts were inferior.
If they were, Jincheon wouldn’t have landed more blows than the Heavenly Demon.
It was just that the latter’s arts were designed purely to destroy life.

It wasn’t a pleasant memory—but necessary.

“He called it Jaha Magong…”

The structure, the energy—it all reminded me of Heavenly Demon Divine Art.

The formulas felt just as threatening, even though the two arts were fundamentally different.
The Heavenly Demon’s art was rooted in demonic energy, while Jaha Magong drew from something else entirely—Divine Demonic Power.

Even I had never heard of such a thing.
It was said to be a fusion of divine power and demonic energy.
But even after reading the boards, I couldn’t comprehend how that was possible.

Was this even a martial art a human could practice?

Still, one thing was clear—