Episode 10. The Cost of Food

by God of Music · 2026-08-31

The footsteps of Mu-hyeon descending the mountain path at dawn seemed to glide.

He stepped on the steep slope as if it were flat ground, and tread on the dew-soaked rocks as if they were dry land. The urgency was partly due to the beacon, but half of it was because of the old man's words from last night. He said that the scattered remnants from the valley battle had become bandits. If that were the case, those plundering the village down below were likely not the ruthless killers of the martial world, but rather those who were in the same predicament as him a month ago.

He did not want to kill. To avoid that, he had to hurry. A frightened blade must be subdued before things escalated.

The village was larger than expected.

There were about fifty thatched houses by the stream, and in the center stood a tiled-roof ancestral home. Flames were rising in the yard of that ancestral home. Although it was called a flame, it was not the house that was burning; it was a bonfire lit in the yard. A fire set by the bandits. Half of the village was awakened by that light, peering out through the cracks in their doors, holding their breath.

There were about thirty bandits.

Wearing leather vests, with rusty swords, broken spears, sickles, and axes. Their appearances were varied, but there was a commonality in their movements. Traces of trained individuals. Mu-hyeon recognized this from behind the wall. The remnants scattered from the Nak-ae Valley. A month ago, he might have been one of that group.

The village men were kneeling in the yard of the ancestral home, and the cries of women were spilling over the wall. Grain sacks were being carried out from the granary.

The elderly man with white hair was confronting the bandit leader in front of the porch.

"Take the grain. But do not touch the people."

"What does the old man not understand?"

The leader chuckled.

"It's us who decide whether to take the grain or not, and it's us who decide whether to touch the people or not. You have no say in this, old man."

The leader's foot kicked the old man's chest. The white-haired man rolled down from the porch, and his cries turned into screams.

Muhyun hesitated for a moment.

'I don't have a sword.'

His hands were empty. Looking around, he spotted a hoe rolling under the fence. It was a tool that had likely come from a kitchen, with a charred end about the length of his forearm.

'This will do.'

It was somewhat funny that the conclusion of thirty years of martial arts was a hoe, but upon reflection, it made sense. According to Hyunhwa Jin-in's words, if the path is a sword, then one should be able to walk it with a hoe as well.

Muhyun picked up the hoe and walked toward the gate.

"What are you? Are you a fool wanting to die?"

Two bandits guarding the door blocked his way. Muhyun replied politely.

"I am just a passerby."

"Passerby?"

"Yes. I came to pay for the meal I had in this village."

The bandits looked at each other and chuckled. It was amusing to see a young man holding a hoe trying to join the fight while talking about paying for a meal.

"Pay for a meal? Get lost. Today is a day to collect lives."

"Please don't do that."

Muhyun sighed.

"It seems like they are people who flowed from Nak-ae-gok. Isn't it a remarkable thing that they survived? Please do not waste that life here."

The bandit's gaze changed. He was pricked by the mention of Nak-ae-gok.

"What does this brat know!"

A knife flew through the air.

Muhyeon stepped aside slightly and tapped the bandit's wrist with a tool. The knife fell to the ground. Then he tapped the shoulder. The bandit collapsed with a thud.

'Good. This much is manageable…'

The second bandit raised an axe and was lightly pushed away.

The second bandit flew across the yard and crashed into a bundle of straw.

'...It was not manageable.'

Muhyeon looked down at his palm. In the celestial realm, even using all his strength against cloud beasts was not enough. It was the first time in thirty years that he used his strength against a person. Fortunately, it seemed he did not die as the straw bundle was thick. The sight of just his legs flailing in the bundle was, unfortunately, a bit amusing.

'Control. Let's control it. This is not the celestial realm.'

The yard fell silent.

Thirty pairs of eyes were focused on Muhyeon. The kneeling villagers, the bandits carrying the rice bundles, and even the leader sitting on the porch.

"What are you doing! Attack!"

At the leader's shout, the bandits rushed in.

The villagers would talk about the next scene for a long time. However, the stories were all different. Some said the guest danced, some said the guest stood still while the bandits fell over each other, and some said there was light coming from the tool.

The reality was like this.

Mu-hyeon walked. He walked among the bandits, as if strolling through a marketplace. When a sword came at him, he sidestepped half a step, and while dodging, he lightly tapped the wrist, knee, or nape of the neck with his stick. The techniques of Master Wi-gi were visible, and the collapsing patterns taught by Old Man Pae-cheon were apparent. The fight, which clearly showed where to push to make someone fall, was more akin to cleaning up than an actual battle.

From the bandits' side, it was a maddening situation.

"Hey! Who just hit me!"

"How would I know! I was trying to hit that guy, uh, huh?"

"Why are you falling down! Get a grip, you fool!"

"Behind! There's someone behind! No, in front! No, where did they go!"

While swinging their swords aimlessly, some bumped into each other, one who clearly had a traveler in front of him looked around confused when the traveler disappeared, and another swung his sword with his eyes closed out of fear, accidentally cutting his comrade's backside. Eventually, some even knelt down and raised their hands without anyone telling them to. They had realized that it was much more comfortable that way.

It took the time of one bowl of rice to take down thirty. Even that was delayed because he had to control his strength and discern those who were surrendering in advance.

Finally, only the leader remained.

The leader was indeed a leader, as he knew how to wield a sword quite well. He had a bit of internal energy too. He seemed to be at the level of a low-ranking warrior of the faction. He gritted his teeth and aimed his sword. Even while aiming, his eyes constantly scanned left and right. His gaze was measuring an escape route. With twenty-nine subordinates down in the time it took to eat a bowl of rice, it was worth measuring.

"You, what is your identity?"

"I am a traveler."

"I asked which faction you belong to!"

"Rather than a faction... I am closer to a gatekeeper."

"This guy to the very end!"

The leader raised his sword and charged. It was quite a fierce blow. If it had been a month ago, Mu-hyeon wouldn't have been able to take his eyes off it and would have lost his head in an instant.

Mu-hyeon stepped forward with his left foot.

Relax your shoulders. Keep your waist straight.

And the tool extended forward.

A single movement to survive.

Thirty years ago, the first and last lesson learned in the open space of the volcano. That one move reached the vital point in the leader's chest before his sword did.

Thud.

The leader stiffened with a face that didn't even understand how he was hit, then fell sideways like a log.

Mu-hyeon lowered the tool and caught his breath. Not because he was panting, but it was a habit. After a thrust, he catches his breath. A habit from the open space.

'Brother. Did you see that? With just that one movement, now I live and so does Nam.'

The yard was as quiet as a mouse.

Then someone finally let out a held breath, tears burst forth, and soon the entire village became noisy.

The cleanup was loud.

Mu-hyeon tied up thirty bandits with a rope. Lined up like dried fish, they were seated in the main family's yard, creating a spectacle. The bandits who regained their senses didn't even dare to escape. When one of them muttered something about being stuck in the straw bundle, everyone turned pale and just nodded their heads.

Looking at them tied up, their faces were all pale. They must have been starving while robbing, as they needed to eat too. Mu-hyeon asked the elder of the main family to distribute rice balls. It was a rare sight to see bandits, who had been robbing houses, crying and sniffling while eating the food from the houses they had robbed.

"You guys."

Muhyeon walked slowly in front of the rope and asked.

"I came from Nak-aegok."

Thirty mouths that were chewing food stopped all at once.

"Some must have been low-ranking members of the Murim Alliance, and some must have been underlings of the Sapa. But now, what does that matter?"

"...Did the great hero also reside in the valley?"

The man with the straw bundle asked cautiously. Muhyeon responded with a question instead of an answer.

"How was it when you came out alive?"

"...It was hell. The village was in ruins, there was no work to be found, and the government office was capturing us as defeated soldiers. After starving for so long, with a sword in hand…."

"I see."

Muhyeon nodded. It felt like that situation was not someone else's. If the heavens had placed him differently, he could have been the one entangled in this rope.

"Blame the way you learned to wield a sword. And since you’ve learned it, now use it to protect. They say there aren’t enough men to fend off bandits in every village. There probably isn’t a watchman who knows the bandit situation as well as you do."

The bandits stared blankly up at Muhyeon. They had never seen someone seriously telling a bandit to fend off other bandits.

"Who on earth are you?"

An elderly man with white hair from the main family asked. Muhyeon subtly hid the tool behind his back.

"I’m just a passing traveler."

"What’s your name?"

"I’m called Jinmu."

"Jin the great hero."

"I’m not a great hero. Just Jin."

The elder looked closely at Muhyeon’s face and clicked his tongue.

"By the way, how old are you this year? To my eyes, you seem to have just crossed your twenties, yet how do you possess such martial arts at that age?"

"More than it looks."

Muhyeon had no idea how many times he would have to give this answer in the future.

"Jin the great hero. How should I repay this grace?"

"Is there any grace? I received four bowls of rice from the herbalist's house up there. I heard that the rice is from this village, so I only paid for the rice."

The elder of the clan seemed not to understand the term 'rice payment,' but in any case, he grabbed his sleeves to hold a feast. Mu-hyeon, after much refusal, settled on one bowl of soup rice.

The negotiation for the case took longer than that.

"Please accept one hundred nyang."

"That's too much. Two nyang is enough for transportation costs."

"Where is that law? Fifty nyang."

"Two nyang."

"Thirty nyang!"

"Two nyang. And it would be nice to have a pair of straw sandals. These are soaked in water."

The negotiation, where the roles of the cutter and the raiser were reversed, ultimately ended with two nyang, two pairs of sandals, and a bundle of rice balls. The elder of the clan laughed heartily, looking as if he hadn’t really lost even after the negotiation.

While eating soup rice, the elder of the clan sat across and talked about the world.

"After the valley fight, even the government has let go. Half of the soldiers were drawn into that fight and never returned. Even if thieves come, all they do is light a beacon, and even when the beacon is lit, it’s only after morning has passed that they come. If the great hero hadn’t been here today…."

The elder trailed off and emptied his cup.

"With the world being like this, the rumors are more reliable to the common people than a visit from the government. I heard that a righteous person was born in some village, and in some alley, there’s no theft because a certain great hero passes by. Such a rumor is worth a hundred government soldiers in this world."

Mu-hyeon pondered over those words while ladling out the rice soup. The rumor is worth a hundred soldiers. Looking back later, it was the most useful lesson learned on this journey.

On the way out, the children followed him.

"Mister! Where did you come from?"

Mu-hyeon thought for a moment before answering.

"From below the cliff."

"What's down below the cliff?"

"There's a waterfall."

"What's below the waterfall?"

"Well, I wonder too."

"Hey, you said you came from there, and you don't know that?"

"I was out of my mind when I fell."

"Have you really fallen? Did it hurt?"

"It hurt a lot. So you kids should stay away from the cliff."

The children scattered with faces that said it was boring. It was indeed boring to hear that a great man like Dae-hyeop was merely giving the adult's nagging to not go near the cliff. Nagging usually comes from those who have lived, but the children had no way of knowing that. However, that evening, the same story came up at every table in the village. The traveler from below the cliff had taken down thirty bandits with a stick and only received two pairs of straw shoes as a reward. The story grew a little each time it crossed the table, went around the well, and flowed into the market.

Unaware of this, Mu-hyeon returned to the herbalist's hut and stayed for another night.

"You really went down and came back."

The old man, though dumbfounded, added another plate of vegetables to the dinner table.

"You had made it all the way to the beacon, but is the village safe?"

"Yes. The bandits were busy fighting among themselves, so I just watched and came back."

"They were fighting among themselves?"

"It seems that sometimes such things happen in the world."

The old man stared at Mu-hyeon for a while, then lit his pipe without asking more questions. A person who had lived in the mountains for a long time knew how to distinguish between what should be asked and what should be kept hidden.

On the next dawn, Mu-hyeon set out on the road.

"Elder. I will not forget your kindness."

"Kindness, my foot. You left after chopping enough firewood for half a year."

The old man waved his hand, then suddenly added as if he had just remembered.

"You said you were going towards the volcano."

"Yes."

"These days, that road is dangerous. After the valley fight, there are defeated soldiers and bandits everywhere, and ominous things are roaming like beasts. Please be careful."

"Yes. I will be careful."

Mu-hyeon deeply bowed and went down the mountain path.

Although he appreciated the old man's concern, he was calculating a little differently in his heart. It was a road where ominous things were roaming. If so, there would often be opportunities to pay for meals along the way.

At that time, Mu-hyeon did not know. Even if that calculation turned out to be correct, it would be so accurate that the journey to the volcano would stretch out endlessly due to the need to pay for meals. And as the meal costs piled up, the calculation would flip, and in the end, the world would line up to pay him for meals.