Entering the Heavenly Dragon Archive
The banquet was over.
In the wrecked banquet hall, Cheon Wigang and Cheon Seonhak faced each other.
"Now that I look at it, everything was planned."
"Yes."
"But what in the world happened to Muyang? Did that mad brat truly turn over a new leaf?"
Cheon Seonhak told him everything that had happened.
From the day he began running the training grounds without rest,
to the fact that he had crossed swords with the trainees and had not lost a single match.
Hearing this, Cheon Wigang doubted his own ears.
"Is that truly so?"
"Yes."
"So that's why you chose to stand behind that child."
"He needs at least one patron. That way, they won't dare move recklessly."
At the mention of them, Cheon Wigang fell silent.
"Hm...."
"Please trust him one last time. That child has truly changed."
"Changed, you say... it's still hard to believe."
Naturally so.
Breaking a deeply ingrained prejudice was no easy matter.
"I felt the same way."
"...."
"Did you see that child's final sword?"
"Yes. It was your Reverse Scale Slash."
"I taught him that sword barely two shijin ago."
"What?"
That was not something he could dismiss lightly.
Cheon Seonhak's sword was special.
"You're saying he mastered your sword?"
"Yes. What do you think that means?"
"He stepped outside the mold."
"That's right."
The Cheon Clan's swordsmanship now had a clearly defined mold.
Yet originally, the Cheon Clan's sword was characterized by freedom.
It was because of the teaching that the heavens themselves could not be predetermined.
However, that very freedom caused the sword forms to diverge wildly, until eventually it became impossible to tell what truly constituted the Cheon Clan's sword.
"I still don't know what is right and what is wrong."
What was right, and what was wrong—
Cheon Wigang and Cheon Seonhak had each arrived at different answers.
Cheon Wigang abandoned freedom and mastered only a fixed, predetermined heaven.
Cheon Seonhak, on the other hand, rejected the mold and pursued a free and unbound heaven.
"But that child sought to contain a new heaven."
"A new heaven…."
Within the current Cheon Clan, only Cheon Seonhak had ever sought to contain a heaven of his own.
That was why Cheon Seonhak's sword was special.
No one had been able to master his sword techniques, including Reverse Scale Slash.
Even Cheon Wigang could only understand the principles behind them—he could not claim to have mastered them.
"So absurd. To think that Muyang, whom I thought beyond saving, possessed such talent."
"I intend to pass my sword on to that child."
A sword built over a lifetime was a towering monument.
Cheon Seonhak declared that he would entrust it to Cheon Muyang.
"Do you believe that's possible?"
"My sword will merely become clouds. Is it not said that dragons ascend to the heavens riding upon clouds?"
In other words, he intended to become a foundation stone for the next generation.
"You place a heavy burden upon yourself."
"It is something that must be done."
"Our relationship with the Tang Clan will sour, but perhaps we have gained something far greater."
Cheon Wigang smiled faintly.
With that, the two left the banquet hall together.
"It's been a while. Let's have a drink."
"Gladly."
Cheon Muyang ran without hesitation to the infirmary where Wolyeong was.
Bang!
He flung the door open, and inside he saw Wolyeong lying on the bed.
"Young master!"
Beside her, Hwahong was tightly holding Wolyeong's hands, her eyes filled with worry.
Wolyeong's lips and hands had turned blue—unmistakable signs of poisoning.
"It's the antidote."
Cheon Muyang personally fed the antidote to Wolyeong.
Then, to help it spread quickly, he poured his energy into her.
"H-her color is coming back!"
Just as Hwahong said, Wolyeong's complexion rapidly brightened.
"Hoo...."
Only then did Cheon Muyang release a breath of relief and relax.
His muscles began to spasm.
"This is killing me."
In that short span of time, he had pushed himself to the limit to master Reverse Scale Slash.
Even with his well-trained body, he had reached his limits.
"Y-young master?"
It wasn't just his muscles.
Reverse Scale Slash was a sword that took the opponent's attack and drew it into one's own flow.
Which meant that, in order to master it, Cheon Muyang had to receive—and withstand—Cheon Seonhak's sword.
Drip.
Drip, drip.
Blood flowed from beneath Cheon Muyang's sleeve.
"Ah… I overdid it a bit."
Spin.
The world began to reel.
In an instant, everything went dark.
Cheon Muyang collapsed unconscious.
"Young master!"
Hwahong's scream reached him like a lullaby.
Fwoosh.
The Cheon Clan was engulfed in flames.
Before the main gate of the Cheon Clan, now reduced to ashes, stood Cheon Muyang—no, Mumyeong.
'The Demonic Cult….'
In the places they passed through, not a single blade of grass remained.
A calamity of death, from which no one could survive, swept over the Cheon Clan.
'Countless people died….'
Why did they have to die?
So many people were dead.
'It's all because of the eldest young master.'
Until the moment of his death, Mumyeong resented Cheon Muyang.
He believed everything had been ruined by the mad eldest young master—by Cheon Muyang, who had become the family head after Cheon Wigang's sudden death.
'I definitely thought that.'
And so, Mumyeong died.
However, the dead Mumyeong became Cheon Muyang and went back fifteen years in time.
'Something feels off.'
A question arose.
Why did the Cheon Clan end up like this?
'Why?'
The Cheon Clan was not the greatest family under heaven.
But it was certainly one of the Ten Great Families of the realm.
How could such a massive clan collapse in an instant, even if the family head was merely a watchdog beneath powerful forces?
Certainly, the core reason was that Cheon Muyang had brought disaster upon them.
'Because he brought in the Demonic Cult.'
There was nothing that could justify Cheon Muyang's actions.
Yet naturally, doubt crept in.
'Didn't the clan keep running regardless of Young Master Cheon Muyang?'
Cheon Muyang had never held real power.
Though he had final approval authority, he was nothing more than a figurehead.
'Was the clan's system itself already broken?'
Though Mumyeong was Cheon Muyang's bodyguard, after the family head's death he spent more time outside than within, trying to hold the collapsing Cheon Clan together.
Perhaps because that was more comfortable for him, Mumyeong harbored no doubts or suspicions at the time.
'There's something I didn't know.'
There had to be something.
Because Mumyeong had placed all the blame on Cheon Muyang, he began to think that perhaps Cheon Muyang was not the sole culprit.
Even though there was no way to know exactly what it was.
Thrust!
He saw the scene of Cheon Muyang's sword piercing Mumyeong.
'....'
Why was it so?
Viewing it from a third-person perspective, he saw Cheon Muyang's face—stricken with fear.
Soon after, Cheon Muyang himself was beheaded.
Until the very end, his eyes were filled with fear—of something, or someone.
'What was it that frightened you so?'
Crash!
He realized it was not reality.
And so, this world—constructed from Mumyeong's memories—shattered like glass.
Flash!
As the world broke apart,
foreign memories flowed in through the fragments.
'Young master….'
They were fragments of Cheon Muyang's memories.
It appeared to be not long after the ceremony in which he ascended as family head.
『Young master, it would be wise to remember who it was that made you the family head.』
It was a voice that could not be identified.
Yet the fear Cheon Muyang felt was transmitted in full.
'Who are you?'
He had to find out.
Mumyeong realized he might have only ever viewed Cheon Muyang through the prejudice of him being a madman.
'Perhaps… the eldest young master himself… was also being driven into an extreme corner.'
Even after becoming family head, his continued mad behavior might have been a desperate struggle to survive.
'Were you truly that desperate? Desperate enough to bring in the Demonic Cult?'
Cheon Muyang's fear came through clearly.
What should one call that?
If Mumyeong had come to understand Cheon Muyang, could it be called assimilation?
There was no way to know.
And so, Mumyeong's consciousness sank back into the abyss.
He heard Wolyeong's voice.
"Young master?"
"Ugh…."
Cheon Muyang opened his eyes.
A familiar ceiling came into view.
Beside him was Wolyeong, her eyes brimming with tears.
"How much time has passed?"
"You've been lying down for a full day."
"A day? I ended up resting well, unexpectedly."
Cheon Muyang raised his upper body.
Suddenly, dizziness washed over him as blood began to circulate.
"Ugh. I should rest one more day."
"Young master, I heard you fought because of me."
Hwahong must have talked.
"Ah."
"Why did you do that?"
Upon hearing that Cheon Muyang had made an enemy of the Sichuan Tang Clan for her sake, Wolyeong burst into tears.
"I told you."
"...."
"If someone touches my people, I won't endure it—no matter who they are."
How could she forget?
Those words could never be forgotten.
"And the special dish you prepared—it was really delicious."
Drip.
Wolyeong smiled.
Yet tears flowed together with that smile.
Feeling awkward for no reason, Cheon Muyang cleared his throat and changed the subject.
"I'm hungry. Is there anything to eat?"
"Ah, I'll prepare something right away!"
Wolyeong briefly left the room.
Cheon Muyang stood up, still feeling the lingering soreness in his muscles.
The memories he had seen in his dream were still vivid.
"Eldest young master, this is not revenge for you. However, I want to know—the reason the Cheon Clan of the past had to collapse so futilely."
Clench!
He clenched his fist tightly.
Whose will had it been?
Perhaps Cheon Muyang's will still remained.
"But not yet."
For now, he was far too weak.
He had to become strong—strong enough that no one could ever dare touch him.
"I have to become strong. Stronger than anyone."
Creeeak.
The door to the infirmary opened.
Not Wolyeong, but Cheon Seonhak entered.
"How amusing. I, too, intended to make you stronger than anyone else. It seems our thoughts aligned."
"Uncle, I want to become strong."
"I will give you my sword."
"...!"
"But surpass my sword and forge one of your own. That will be your foremost task."
Cheon Muyang knew it.
This was his only chance.
And also a turning point—one that would lead him down a path different from the past.
"Yes."
Perhaps he saw the resolve filling those eyes.
Cheon Seonhak smiled.
He, too, was full of anticipation.
Cheon Muyang tried to rise at once.
Cheon Seonhak stopped him.
"Enough. I'll give you three days. You must recover completely within that time."
Grin.
Every word Cheon Seonhak spoke was a wager.
As always, Cheon Muyang accepted that wager.
"One day. I'll rest for just one day."
"One day, hm… Very well."
Cheon Seonhak took something out.
"Take this."
Whoosh!
It was a wooden token.
"This is…?"
"Didn't you say you wanted to enter the Heavenly Dragon Archive? That's your pass. Still—will one day be enough?"
"...."
One day was short.
By all accounts, it seemed he had already lost this bet.
"Please give me two days."
Cheon Seonhak smiled.
"If you can manage that, then try."
"...?"
"But when you enter the Heavenly Dragon Archive, and when you come out—you must be unmistakably different."
It was a meaningful statement.
Yet without further explanation, Cheon Seonhak ended his words there and left the infirmary.
"Thank you, Uncle."
He likely couldn't hear it anymore.
Cheon Muyang bowed deeply.
"The Heavenly Dragon Archive…."
He would become strong.
He reaffirmed it once more.
"Young master! Here you go!"
Wolyeong brought in a bowl of porridge.
He didn't particularly want to eat, but for the sake of recovery, he forced it down.
After resting for about two more shijin, Cheon Muyang pushed himself up.
"Young master? Where are you going?"
"To the Heavenly Dragon Archive."
"...!"
Cheon Muyang smiled as he stepped out of the infirmary.
"Today is the beginning."
"I'll be cheering for you!"