Cut the Sky (1)
Early morning.
Someone was already running around the training grounds.
Regular footsteps and steady breathing repeated over and over.
"Hoo...."
How long had he been running?
Sweat beaded on his body.
Only when his breathing climbed all the way up to his chin did he finally stop running and come to a halt.
Before he knew it, Cheon Muyang appeared, looking as though some of his bloated flesh had slimmed down a bit.
"Two shijin!"
"Really? That's a little longer than yesterday."
"Yes!"
After hearing how long he had run from Wolyeong, Cheon Muyang sat down cross-legged in a corner of the training grounds.
He observed the inside of his body.
'With only a 5-star Cheonyang Divine Art, this must be the limit.'
The Cheonyang Divine Art was a yang-type martial art.
As such, it was fairly effective at melting the yin energy within Cheon Muyang's body, but it was less effective at dissolving yang energy of the same nature.
'The balance can't be broken. Even if it's slow, there's no choice but to go this way.'
Dissolving the medicinal energy inside his body had to be done only within the bounds of maintaining yin-yang balance.
Cheon Muyang smacked his lips as if regretful, yet resigned.
"If only I could have entered the Cheonryong Archive and learned a higher-grade heart method, things would have been different. Tsk."
But what could he do?
It was karma Cheon Muyang himself had accumulated.
'I'll just have to be satisfied with this much.'
Flash!
Cheon Muyang opened his eyes.
Though it was only a tiny amount, having built up internal energy made his muscles feel loosened whenever he finished circulating and regulating his qi.
"Shall I start again?"
Cheon Muyang rose from his spot.
With a reverent heart, he lifted Cheongwang.
The blade soared high toward the sky.
It was so well maintained that sunlight reflected off it.
Whooong!
A sharp sword cry rang out.
The wounds he had suffered when swinging his sword against Neung Ryeoun now seemed to be turning into calluses, as there was no longer any pain.
'Is it tomorrow now?'
The wager with Cheon Seonhak.
It was a bet to win against the top trainee Cheon Seonhak put forward.
For the past month, he had devoted himself desperately to training.
'Did I do my best?'
He had practically lived in the training grounds.
He increased the intensity of his training day by day, and in the process, he had no idea how many times he had vomited.
Even so, Cheon Muyang felt lacking.
'I tried to keep some composure, but maybe I grew impatient.'
Fifteen years later, the Cheon Clan collapsed in vain due to the schemes of the Demonic Cult.
Because Cheon Muyang knew this, it seemed he had grown impatient without realizing it.
'They say excess is as bad as deficiency. A gentleman's revenge is never too late, even after ten years.'
With that, he steeled himself.
There was nothing good to come from being hasty.
'For now, I'll focus only on what I can concentrate on.'
First came the wager with Cheon Seonhak.
"Ah, no matter who gets picked, it's really nice, isn't it? You get the chance to legally punish the young master."
It seemed the rumor had already spread widely within the Cheon Clan.
This too must have been Cheon Seonhak's intention.
It meant that if he was afraid, he should have given up long ago.
'Looks like he really has nothing better to do. He should be polishing his sword instead. Tsk.'
This small commotion was the perfect entertainment for those who had shut themselves inside the Cheon Clan and done nothing but train.
As such, there was already plenty of chatter surrounding this duel.
'Of course, most of it is about how disgracefully I'll be defeated.'
Though only a very small number of opinions,
There were also a very few voices saying that the young master seemed to have changed.
That alone was a significant improvement.
'Whoever comes out....'
It didn't matter.
Winning or losing held no real meaning.
All he wanted to gain from this wager was a small measure of recognition from Cheon Seonhak.
"Hehe! You're still the same as ever. Haven't you learned any sword techniques? Just swinging and slashing nonstop, how pathetic."
A mocking voice rang out.
Wolyeong bristled, but Cheon Muyang stopped her with his gaze.
'Still, young master, it's fortunate that there's at least one person cheering for you.'
Cheon Muyang suddenly laughed along with them.
Then he strode straight toward the trainee who was mocking him.
"Are you perhaps the top trainee?"
Cheon Seonhak had said it clearly.
To fight the 'top' trainee.
"Ah. That's correct, young master. I am the top trainee."
"So that's how it is."
"Do not worry, Young Master. I'll end this gently, nice and easy."
The way he smiled slyly made him unpleasant to look at.
Suddenly, a face came to mind—but it was subtly different from the one in his memory.
'Now that I think about it....'
So he asked.
"Alright, top trainee. What is your name?"
"My name is Lee Seokgi."
"Oh!"
Lee Seokgi.
He remembered.
His face had changed so he hadn't recognized him at first, but how could he forget that name?
'You traitorous bastard.'
He had once been one of Cheon Muyang's close aides.
After entering the Cheonryong Sword Unit, rather than honing his sword, he had relied on political maneuvering to form ties with Cheon Muyang and rise to the very center of power.
In the past, Cheon Muyang had favored Lee Seokgi—who only spoke honeyed words—over nameless men who spoke the truth.
'Back then, he had quite a sharp-looking face.'
The reason he hadn't recognized him was because, by that time, greed had settled into his features, and he had become a bloated pig, fattened much like the Cheon Muyang of the past.
However, Lee Seokgi eventually fell for the Demonic Cult's temptation and began leaking all kinds of information.
'By the time I realized it, it was already too late.'
It had already been too late.
Crunch.
Cheon Muyang clenched his teeth.
Anger surged up.
'I thought I didn't care anymore... but I've changed my mind.'
Whoever the top trainee was didn't matter.
Cheon Muyang had only intended to show his sword to Cheon Seonhak.
But now, things were different.
'I've been given a chance to cut down that traitor early.'
Looking at Lee Seokgi's sly smile, Cheon Muyang smiled as well.
"I see. Lee Seokgi, then—I'll remember that name."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow."
"Fine. Let's fight fair and square."
"Yes, Young Master."
Leaving behind a faint sneer, Lee Seokgi disappeared.
It was a cunning smile that the Cheon Muyang of the past would never have noticed.
"Tsk. Looks like I've gained yet another reason to swing my sword with everything I've got."
A judgment he had failed to carry out in his previous life.
Of course, the current Lee Seokgi had not yet committed any crimes—but it felt like he needed to be repaid in advance.
And so, Cheon Muyang swung his sword once more.
Whooong!
Still, he did nothing but repeat slashes.
How long had he been swinging?
Suddenly, Cheon Muyang recalled a lesson from Cheon Seonhak long ago.
『What is it that you wish to cut?』
『Pardon?』
『Just as I thought. Simply swinging your sword is not enough.』
『Please teach me.』
『There is nothing special to teach. In the end, the essence of swordsmanship lies in cutting. What you cut determines the value of the sword.』
『What I cut...?』
『Yes. Look at the sky. What you must cut is not some mere scarecrow.』
Whoooong!
Cheon Seonhak's sword moved.
The blade shot up into the heavens like an ascending dragon, and the raging dragon split the sky itself.
It was the sword of Severing the Heavens.
『...!』
『It is the sky. Cut the sky.』
From that day on,
Cheon Seonhak's sword became both a goal Cheon Muyang had to reach someday and a signpost that pointed him in the direction he must go.
'What I must cut is the sky.'
Cheon Muyang closed his eyes.
The key lay in mental imagery.
Fortunately, Cheon Muyang remembered Cheon Seonhak's sword that had cut the sky.
He entered a boundless state of selflessness.
Uuuuuung!
A fragment of that sword faintly settled upon Cheon Muyang's blade.
He could no longer feel the sword.
When its weight vanished completely—
Cheongwang became a part of Cheon Muyang.
A fragment of the mental image that had cut the sky overlapped with Cheongwang.
Paaaah!
Blinding rays of light scattered in all directions, bright enough to dazzle even with Cheon Muyang's eyes closed.
And within Cheon Muyang's imagination, the sky split apart.
'Ah....'
At that moment, the state of selflessness shattered.
Feeling his entire body go limp, Cheon Muyang collapsed back onto the ground.
"Huff… huff!"
He gasped for breath.
When he finally opened his eyes, Cheon Muyang realized the surroundings had grown dark.
"Ah...."
It was deep night.
A night when no one should have been around.
And yet, Wolyeong was there.
Because she was the moon's shadow.
"Y-Young Master?"
Wolyeong had always supported him, but tonight was different.
"Wh-What was that just now...?"
Her eyes were wide with shock—an expression Cheon Muyang had never seen before.
Smiling gently, he asked.
He was curious about Wolyeong's impression.
"Why? How was it?"
"I—I mean... I don't really know much about swords, but...."
"Just tell me how it felt."
"For a moment, it felt like the sky itself had split apart."
At those words—
Cheon Muyang was the one who was surprised.
The sky he had cut was nothing more than an imagined one.
'You saw that?'
How could she have seen it?
Cheon Muyang smiled.
'So no one recognized this kind of talent? Not even me?'
Wolyeong was an unexpected talent.
Far too valuable to leave as a mere attendant.
"Wolyeong, about tomorrow's duel."
"Yes?"
"Don't look away. Watch carefully, all the way through. And later, tell me what you thought."
It was a sudden request to Wolyeong.
They had been talking about sword impressions, and suddenly he was mentioning tomorrow's duel.
"Yes. I will."
"As expected—true insight often lies hidden in plain sight."
"Y-Young Master?"
Cheon Muyang looked utterly exhausted, yet he laughed so loudly it seemed the sky might tear apart.
True insight lay hidden beneath the lamp—the darkest place was right under the light.
The trainee training grounds.
From early morning, a large crowd had gathered.
However, everyone merely hovered around the perimeter of the grounds.
No one stepped onto the platform above.
"He's coming!"
Someone approached from afar.
Cheon Muyang had been at the training grounds until dawn, but Wolyeong had nagged him to at least change clothes and come out looking neat, so he was just returning.
All eyes turned toward him.
"He lost… weight?"
"Looks like it, maybe?"
He had noticeably slimmed down.
How many years had it been since his jawline had shown any definition?
Those who saw Cheon Muyang after a long time were surprised in their own way.
"So what? His nature isn't going to change."
"Exactly. What good is losing weight if he doesn't lose that butcher's temperament? And it's not like that erases his past mistakes."
Still, the sentiment was largely negative.
Cheon Muyang knew this well.
He simply endured the gazes directed at him in silence.
"Have you arrived?"
Cheon Seonhak stepped up onto the training platform as well.
"Yes, Uncle."
"That will do. You're prepared, I presume."
"Anytime."
"Good. Come up, top trainee."
"Yes! Chief Instructor!"
Lee Seokgi stepped forward as if he had been waiting for this moment.
His face was filled with absolute confidence, as though defeat were impossible.
'Right. He's probably still pondering how to cook me up even now.'
This place was a stage of opportunity.
Cheon Seonhak was here.
Which meant the Cheonryong Sword Unit Commander and the Cheonbong Sword Unit Commander were here as well.
It was a chance to impress both of them—of course Lee Seokgi would be agonizing over it.
'Doesn't matter. I don't even have an eye-speck's worth of concern for that.'
Cheon Muyang intended to smash that entire stage of opportunity to pieces.
"Until I say stop. Understood?"
Nod.
Both men nodded.
"Take your wooden swords."
"...."
Cheon Muyang and Lee Seokgi accepted their wooden swords.
A real-blade duel was not permitted.
After all, regardless of anything else, the First Young Master was the next head of the family.
He was not someone who could be injured lightly.
Cheon Seonhak stepped down from the training platform.
Then, as if proclaiming it to everyone, he shouted—
"Begin!"
The match began.
Lee Seokgi was completely off guard.
Even now, he was probably only thinking about how to defeat the First Young Master in the most spectacular fashion possible.
"Idiot."
"Huh?"
Because of that, Lee Seokgi failed to react in time.
Cheon Muyang's sword, which had soared high into the sky, came crashing down like lightning.