He did not know how much time had passed. He had truly sunk into a state of selflessness while circulating energy.
When he began, the sun had been high in the sky, but when he finished and opened his eyes, the heavens were dyed pitch-black.
It seemed at least an entire day had gone by.
"Hoo…"
A sigh of emotion escaped.
"I succeeded."
Danmok Yun examined the state of his body. The difference between himself before and after circulating energy was as if he had become a completely different person.
First, the meridians.
He had poured in spiritual energy to polish and strengthen them. He had pierced through blockages, widened the narrow parts, and reinforced the broad channels.
With this foundation laid, the speed at which his internal energy would accumulate from now on would be different.
Second, the body.
After expelling turbid qi and tempering his meridians and dantian, his body had improved on its own. It was not quite a rebirth, but it was close.
And it did not end there.
Third, the dantian.
'The remaining spiritual energy I poured entirely into the dantian.'
He had secured no small amount of internal energy.
"Good, good, very good."
The vitality filling his body was unlike before. Previously, he had been so weak and frail it seemed impossible to do anything in such a body, but now it was different.
'It feels like I could do anything.'
Things had gone as he wished—how could he not be delighted?
A gloomy laugh burst forth.
"Now I'll first master the basic sword techniques. Then I'll train in the Falling Star Twelve Swords. And I'll have to seek out some other martial manuals too."
The Falling Star Twelve Swords (落星十二劍).
It was the sword art representing the Danmok Clan. Just as the Namgung Clan had the Changung Mu-ae Sword Art, so too did the Danmok Clan have the Falling Star Twelve Swords.
'The Falling Star Twelve Swords isn't all.'
On the day the clan had burned, two martial manuals had been pressed into his hands as he fled, told that they were the clan's priceless secrets that must be protected.
One was the Tai-il Divine Art (太一神功), the absolute art of the clan that only the Clan Head could practice.
The other was the Falling Star Twelve Swords.
'Martial arts that were the very foundation of the clan.'
First, he must master the Falling Star Twelve Swords.
—Young master, I've come.
While he was closing his eyes and arranging his thoughts, Jin Cheol's voice rang out.
"Come in."
Jin Cheol entered, his face gloomy.
"Young master, the Clan Head has ordered me to bring you. He also said there are words he would pass on… It seems he is still angry. What should be done?"
"What did he say?"
"He said, 'Rebel only moderately and then return. You are now fifteen years old. It is time you came to your senses, is it not?'"
"Mm."
Danmok Yun nodded.
"His anger has subsided. Let's go at once."
"Eh?"
"He means, 'Though you've acted foolishly until now, since you are still young I will overlook it once. From now on, at fifteen, do well.' That's the meaning."
Jin Cheol tilted his head, not understanding. Danmok Yun gave a small laugh.
"Let's go."
Danmok Hong had spent the previous night tossing and turning, worrying deeply.
In his own judgment, there was no change. As the First Young Master of the Danmok Clan, Danmok Yun had to learn martial arts.
He wished his son would excel at them, but at this point he no longer even hoped for that. It was enough if he possessed the minimum cultivation befitting the First Young Master.
But his son did not even wish for that. That was the problem.
'Learning martial arts requires endurance and effort.'
Forcing him to learn was meaningless.
"Hoo…"
Danmok Hong closed his eyes.
"He says he hates the sword…"
He swallowed a sigh, the taste bitter in his mouth.
'I did entrust him to the Twenty-eight Swords, but…'
His son's stubbornness, inherited from him, would not break so easily.
Between parent and child, if one must bend, it is naturally the parent. It is so for all parents.
With hands clasped behind his back, Danmok Hong gazed out the window at the sky. Unaware of his mood, the weather was annoyingly clear, sinking his spirits further.
'I told him to compose himself upon returning, but…'
With such a stubborn son, so like himself, how much more could they speak? If they did not quarrel again, it would already be fortunate.
'A scholar, he says…'
If his son's wishes had not changed, then he would have to help him. There was someone else to take the position of Young Lord, so the clan would not suffer.
Before long, Danmok Yun's voice came.
—Father, it is your son.
"Enter."
The door opened, and the son who once was so precious—though now somewhat less so—entered and greeted him. But something was off.
"Father, did you sleep peacefully last night?"
"…You, are you truly Yun? You are indeed Yun, but…"
Danmok Hong narrowed his eyes.
Something was different. Just by walking in the door, Danmok Yun felt different than before.
In only a few days, he seemed to have grown taller, his waist and shoulders straightened.
No, it was not his outward appearance.
It was his qi. The aura he gave off was utterly different.
"You, stand there a moment."
Danmok Hong rushed over and carefully examined his son's body, reaching out to grasp his arm.
"Hm…!"
His eyes widened.
Solid. To the eye there was no difference, but in touch it was clear—beneath supple skin was firm, resilient muscle.
Danmok Hong's gaze roved restlessly over his son.
Had he always been like this? No. If so, he would not feel this sudden strangeness. And such changes could not appear in mere days. It was far too abrupt.
Which meant—
"…Danmok Yun."
"Yes, Father."
"Come and sit."
As if expecting this, Danmok Yun sat calmly.
"You will explain in detail what has happened."
Danmok Hong glared at his son from across the table.
"Not leaving out a single thing."
His aura was stern and fierce, but Danmok Yun let it flow past naturally as he answered. In the past he would have been cowed, unable even to speak.
"It is nothing for you to worry about."
"I told you to live as you pleased, so I said nothing when you holed up in an inn and did not return. But…"
"Father."
"…Have you stepped onto an evil path?"
It was a reasonable suspicion. But it was not so. Danmok Yun shook his head.
"You know as well as I, Father. The Evil Path or Demonic Path only explosively increases internal energy, without regard for the vessel's quality, durability, or size."
"I can confirm it myself. Hiding it is useless."
"I know. You may check."
Danmok Yun smiled and extended his arm. Danmok Hong, skeptical, placed his hand on the meridians.
Soon his eyes flew wide. His son's body was nothing like what he had known.
'It is certainly the Ilwon Heart Method.'
There was no trace of demonic qi. On the contrary, it was far too pure.
But the Ilwon Heart Method was a method of harmony. It could not bring about such sudden achievements.
"How could this be…"
"I will learn the sword."
Before his father could say more, Danmok Yun spoke.
Danmok Hong's eyes opened even wider than before.
"What did you just say?"
"You told me, live as I please. So I mean to do so. I will learn the sword."
"Only a short while ago you said you would become a scholar. Do you think the sword is easy? With a careless mind you can never…"
"Careless or earnest, what does it matter? If one decides to learn and devotes himself to the present, that is enough."
Danmok Hong's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Danmok Yun grinned.
"That is what I wished to tell you."
"Ha…"
"Father, from now on, I will live as I please."
"Live as you please? What do you mean by that?"
"Even if you say it is too late, I will still learn martial arts, train, and as the First Young Master of the Danmok Clan, meet people."
Danmok Yun spoke as if this were some unfilial act. Yet it was precisely what Danmok Hong had so long desired.
His worries melted away like snow in spring. Perhaps it was only words, but the very fact his son had made such a decision was a great comfort.
Danmok Yun bowed deeply and added,
"Father, I was sorry."
"…"
"And I was grateful. For waiting until I made my decision."
This was the one thing he most wished to say, more than a hundred other words.
In his past life, he had never lived up to his father's expectations. But this time it would be different. This time, he would not disappoint him.
"Raise your head."
After a long silence, Danmok Hong exhaled. Danmok Yun lifted his head.
"Can my son's head bow so easily?"
At those words, something surged up inside him.
An indescribable emotion welled within a heart he had not even realized was empty.
"You have only one chance left."
"…"
"But that one chance will be enough."
He met his father's eyes.
They were steadfast eyes. The gaze of the proud father who led and upheld the Danmok Clan.
"I believe in you."
His eyes were filled with trust in his son.
"Believe in me, Father."
After his conversation with his father, his shoulders felt heavy.
He reflected that the responsibility of protecting the clan weighed this much. Whenever he thought so, he threw himself even harder into training.
He cultivated his heart method, learned the basic sword techniques one by one, and spent his days thus. Until one day—
"Mm…"
Something disturbed his sleep.
—Danmok! Forward!
—Danmok! Unite!
It was the sound of chants outside.
Danmok Yun rose. It had been a long time since he last heard such shouts. He used to hear them often in the past.
'One of the Samwon Units (三元隊)?'
The Samwon Units were the martial troops of the Danmok Clan.
The Heavenly Origin Unit (天元隊), the Earthly Origin Unit (地元隊), and the Human Origin Unit (人元隊). These three units were composed of fairly skilled martial artists.
And from each unit, twenty-eight of the best were selected and recognized as the clan's elite—the Twenty-eight Swords (二十八劍).
'Diligent, from dawn itself.'
With the clan's warriors working so hard, how could he sit idly by?
Danmok Yun sat cross-legged.
Breathing deeply in and out, he recited the formulas and circulated energy through a full cycle. This made for a refreshing start to the morning.
'Good. There's not much difference from last night.'
Even the body has inertia, a tendency to return to its original state.
He had forcefully reshaped his body and raised his abilities in a short time, so for the time being he had to carefully observe and manage his condition.
His body had remained stable for days now, so perhaps he need not worry anymore.
"Now it's about time I paid my morning respects."
Click.
Danmok Yun rose and opened the door.
Sunlight streamed through the gray dawn. The shade of pine trees cast cool shadows across his quarters, and a refreshing morning breeze stirred.
With a faint smile, he looked down upon the manor. There he saw warriors practicing in unison.
"Don't let your stances collapse! Once more!"
"Huyit!"
"Your shouts are too weak! Put strength into your lower dantian!"
"Hhhhuuaaahh!!"
Danmok Yun watched their training.
Feet rooted firmly to the ground, bodies upright, sword tips flowing smoothly outward.
They did not cut through the wind, but rather entrusted themselves to it, moving with both grace and discipline.
It was the Sosul Sword Art (蕭瑟劍法).
They were training in one of the Danmok Clan's representative martial arts… but that was beside the point!
"…?"
Strange.
Why on earth were they practicing right in front of his quarters?
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