Chapter 73: The Death Gleaner (2)_SSS-Class Revival Hunter

<h4>Chapter 73: The Death Gleaner (2)</h4>

 Hunger. What was hunger? It had been a week since I had started fasting. The first and the second days were the most painful. After three days, it felt less painful. My organs and my mind slowed down, and my life faded a little. If I were topare it to a river, its flow weakened and it dried up like it did during a drought.

 Was hunger about enduring until the river of pain, thought, and life dried up and disappeared? Was this the kind of training that the Heavenly Demon wanted me to do?

 “... No, it isn’t like this,” I muttered quietly. I uncrossed my legs. “Sitting here doing nothing is a waste of time.”

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 I drew my sword, and, picturing the sword paths of the Demonic Heaven Arts, I blindly guided my sword.

 —What are you doing? the Guardian asked.

 “I’m exercising."

 It was winter, so my breaths were icy. Because I had been drinking melted snow for seven days, my breaths were like snowkes.

 “I was wrong. I was so, so stupid... The hunger that the Heavenly Demon is talking about isn’t just about ack of food, so fasting in the lotus position is definitely not the answer.”

 It had been a week since Ist moved, so I was quickly out of breath. My limbs trembled, and my lungs screamed for more air.

 “Hunger is about not being able to eat even when you want to."

 My sword dance was crude, but it still made me sweat. It was different from the time I had been sitting in silence. I felt more alive. The amount I sweated fed the river of my life.

 “I’ve been thinking about a hungry farmer for the past week.”

 What was hunger?

 “No farmer wouldn’t go out to work because they’re hungry. It doesn’t matter if he’s hungry or hasn’t eaten, he has to work, but he still doesn’t have anything to eat.”

 I thought that was what hunger was.

 “He swings his hoe to plow the ground, but the weather is bad this year. It’s going to be a bad harvest. No matter what he does, the ground yields nothing. Not a single thing.” I swung my sword. “There’s nothing he can do...”

 And I closed my eyes and thought of the parched, barren ground.

 “... That is why he’s hungry.”

 A farmer mmed his hoe into the barrennd.

 The ground cracked like crumbly old cookies.

 “It’s already been over half a year since itst rained.”

 The reservoir was empty, and the vige well was also dry. There wasn’t a single drop of water on his farm. At noon, an old man came out and silently sat at the vige entrance. Not a trace of water could be found in his wrinkled face either.

 “It''s a drought.”

 The sun was hot. Some vigers had already abandoned their farms. Since they had given up their work, they had fewer reasons to not abandon their homes. Many vigers had taken their children and headed to the sea.

 “But this farmer hasn’t given up.”

 —Why?

 “He doesn’t think it’s going to be any different at the sea because he doesn’t know how to fish. People have to make a living on what they can steal, but he only learned how to steal from thend, just like his father, his father’s father, and so on...”

 The farmer went out to his farm day after day. He wouldn’t get anything, but still, he worked the farm. In the evening, he climbed up the mountain behind the vige and peeled rtively edible tree bark.

 “But there isn’t much of the bark left now.”

 The other vigers had peeled most of it off. Aftering down the mountain, he looked back at the trees on the mountain. They werepletely naked and white. It looked like a birch forest from a distance.

 Hunger turned the world white.

 “It’s been over a week since he’d eaten even tree bark.”

 The farmer struck the barren ground with his hoe, and I swung my sword.

 “.. But he can’t eat the bark he collected.”

 He had a family.

 —So what’s he going to do? the Guardian asked as my sword swung in time with the hoe.

 “He heads to the vige well first.”

 He managed to scrape up a bucket of water from the puddle at the bottom of the well.

 “Using that water, he boils the bark and adds small leaves and such... He has to do it.”

 The leaves smelled fresh, and the scent of the tree bark was dry. Together with the rising steam, they made his mouth water.

 I’m hungry. I swallowed my drool too. I want to eat.

 The farmer wanted to take a bite of the tree bark boiling in the water. The bark held the scent of water and leaves, so he felt like it was going to be sweet. If he sank his teeth into it, it would gush rich broth into his mouth. The brown tree bark smelled like the earth; it was edible soil.

 He held himself back since he had to give it to his children... It was all he could give. However, his children whined and cried because they hated the bark their father had brought. Theyined as they ate. In the end, one of the children tossed his bowl away.

 The farmer pped the child on the cheek without thinking. My swordshed out like his hand.

 It wasn’t right. The farmer turned away from his children. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t the type of person who would hit his children. He really wasn’t. It was just because of how severe this famine was. It had been too long since he had proper food, so he was on edge. Too on edge... His life didn’t used to be like this. The farmer went out to pick bark again.

 What was hunger? Famine had been around since the dawn of time, bringing hunger. At every famine, another farmer was created.

 “Feel hunger while you fight.”

 “Every movement of your sword must be driven by hunger.”

 Could hunger have movements? Yes, it could.

 “Their voices, their pained moans, and how their arms and feet move. Recall everything about the hungry.”

 It was how the farmer pped his own child on the cheek.

 It was how he stormed out and threw away the boiled tree bark in the yard.

 It was how the farmer returned and handed his children the new bark covered in soil.

 “Engrave them in your heart.”

 Since the dawn of time, some farmers would have hit their children and then caressed their children’s cheeks, whispering apologies. Other farmers might have ended up beating their children. Some farmers survived until the next year, but there were also those who died with their children. That was how it had been and how it always would be.

 “Make them your drive.”

 Every move they made was hungry.

 “Through this, you shall swing your sword with just hunger.”

 To swing my sword, I used the farmer’s angry, bitter p. I cut through the air like how the farmer threw the bark, the life, on the ground. I spun and shed the air like how the farmer returned and handed the new bark to his children.

 “Only then can you use the Demonic Heaven Arts with its full power.”

 Demonic Heaven Arts,

 First Form:

 Starvation Death.

 I slowly opened my eyes. The white snow of the day had already turned pitch ck with the arrival of the night. When I noticed that it was the middle of the night, I also realized that I was drenched in sweat—and I was starving. I was so insanely hungry that I felt like someone was eating away my inside. Perhaps hunger was like a teethed insect that chewed away my organs.

 This is hunger.

 It hurt.

 The demonic martial arts were created to w the world. The walls of this cave were covered in w marks. Had a storm blown in? No, they were strokes of my sword, clearly engraved on the stone walls. Stctites and stgmites had been cut short. I cleaved through the stone of the cave using my sword despite having barely used aura.

 But... this isn’t enough yet.

 I had just reached an understanding of the arts. It was clear. The sword paths in my head and the imagination matched. I could feel it in my fingertips, and that was how I knew.

 “It’s still crude.”

 I hadn’t reached the peak of understanding. I was at the foot at best.

 —You’re nuts...The Guardian frowned in disbelief.

 “Why are you calling me crazy again? I’m training properly this time.”

 —Properly? You’ve got to be kidding me. If this is proper, those bastards who train through sex are perfect. The Guardian heaved a deep sigh. This is why the ignorant are scary. Zomsparrow, you’re a real lunatic, and I don’t think there’s anyone like you out there. Your spirit is like those in the Righteous Faction, but the mental arts you’re using are what demonic cult guys utilize. Godddddd.

 “Uh, I’m still unfamiliar with murim terminology. What’s wrong with that?”

 —You ignorant— The Guardian grumbled to himself. What you’re doing is absolutely outrageous, but you don’t even realize. Goddddddd. I’m gonna go crazy.

 “Can you please say that in a way I can understand?”

 —To sum up, a master martial artist from the Righteous Faction is using demonic martial arts. You want me to be more specific? The master martial artist from the Righteous Faction ONLY knows how to use demonic martial arts. Zombie, don’t you understand that it’s as ridiculous as taking a goldfish on a walk?

 I scratched my nose. “Do goldfish taste good?”

 —Starving yourself for over a week must’ve made you go crazy... Wait, you were crazy way before this... What kinda karma did I get in myst life to saddle me with this idiot... the Guardianmented. I’m getting traumatized because of you. Damn, how am I supposed to teach you my martial arts? I feel like you’ll be fucked if I teach you the way I taught Gramps Marcus. What should I do with you...

 I was really hungry. I wanted to eat a choco pie[1] When I bit into it, the chocte shell would melt on my tongue, and then the chewy white marshmallows inside would bounce between my teeth. I want to slurp on some warm milk and eat a choco pie. Just one. What was hunger? I, Kim Gong-Ja, would say that hunger was a choco pie—a delicious and healthy choco pie.

 —...Hey, are you paying attention? the Guardian asked.

 “Yeah? I’m contemting martial arts.”

 —Don’t bullshit me. You look like you’re thinking about something stupid.

 Why did this guy know me so well? Was he stalking me? Technically, the Guardian was a ghost who always followed me around. He was a ghost stalker! Not a pleasant thought.

 I snorted at my unpleasant ghost stalker. “I’m serious. Dead serious. Do you have trust issues?”

 —Then tell me, what part of martial arts were you contemting?

 The gori-sized stalker was nitpicking, just like a real stalker would. The ghost gori stalker should find his eternal peace sooner rather thanter.

 “I thought I should stop and get out of the cave for the time being,” I solemnly told him.

 —Stop? Why? Are you going to show the Heavenly Demon your true power?

 “Nah.” I waved my hand. “I’m barely at the start of understanding the Demonic Heaven Arts. Even if I kill myself and go back to the Heavenly Demon, the best reaction I’ll get will be ‘I see some potential in you.’”

 —Huh? Isn’t that okay? You’ll get her approval.

 “What do you mean, ‘okay’? It isn’t okay at all.” I walked out of the cave. “Do you know how hurt I was when the Heavenly Demon looked down on me for never really starving? I hold grudges for a very long time. Approval can’t heal my broken heart.”

 —You make me feel ufortable...

 “I want her to be shocked. What I want is, ‘You’re so talented that words can’t describe it! I didn’t realize how lucky I was to have you as my student. I must have been out of my mind. I’m sorry.’”

 Just imagining it made me feel good. The moment would be as sweet as a choco pie.

 “How is it? Wouldn’t that be nice? I know you think the same, Mr. Sword Emperor.” I nudged the Guardian.

 —You’re one hell of a headcase...

 I came down the snow mountain and headed to the snowfield.

 “I felt something earlier while practicing the Demonic Heaven Arts. Compared to people of this generation, I’ve never really starved. When I imagined a farmer boiling tree bark, I couldn’t imagine it in detail. What kind of bark is it exactly? How should I boil the bark? I hadn’t tried it. The clearer my imagination is, the more of the arts’ power I can use. That’s why I’m still not good with the arts even though I have the Demonic Heaven Arts as my Skill. My imagination is crude. Which is why...”

 I stopped in the snowfield.

 “...I’m going to fill my imagination.”

 What are you going to do? Are you really going to boil some bark?

 “No, there’s a much better way.” I grinned. “Monster Legion Reincarnation.”

 The moonlight shone down and dyed the snowfield silver. Suddenly, clouds covered the moon, casting stark shadows across the snow. One bite after another, the shadows gnawed the moonlight from the snow like a swarm of voracious insects.

 [Activating the Skill Monster Legion Reincarnation.]

 The clouds left after a moment, but the shadows did not disappear. Even with the return of the moon’s silver light, the snowfield remained stubbornly dark. The shadows refused to divulge their devoured light.

 “Master.” Preta, one of the shadows, knelt before me. The snow crunched softly beneath her knee. Behind her stood thousands of skeletons.

 I nodded. “Preta, I have a job for you all.”

 “I am at your service.”

 “This is a perishing world where most of the humans have be ghosts and their bodies wander. In some ways, it’s simr to the Aegim Empire that you once destroyed.”

 Preta bowed a little lower.

 “My order is simple. Scatter and bring me the starving corpses.”

 “Starving corpses...?”

 I looked at the dim, endless expanse of snow. “Yeah. There must be viges here too, so find the corpses that died from starvation. Since they can move, they’ll resist, but there are over four thousand of you. Use your numbers to subdue them.”

 Preta cautiously asked, “How many corpses shall I bring...?”

 “112 corpses,” I answered.

 They had the trauma of starvation. I was going to learn all about their hunger. By the time I was done, I would be closer to the Heavenly Demon.

 1. Korean moon pie. image. ?

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Chapter 73: The Death Gleaner (2)