Cutting the Heavens (2)
"Begin!"
At Cheon Seonhak's shout, the wooden sword in Cheon Muryang's hand shot up toward the sky.
It was the stance he had always used in the corner of the training grounds—one optimized entirely for a single cutting motion.
Look at this bastard?
Lee Seokgi, however, let his guard down.
Watching him so plainly, Cheon Muryang sneered at the daydreaming Lee Seokgi.
"Idiot."
"Huh?"
For nearly a month, Cheon Muryang had swung that cut over and over again.
How good—or bad—it was should have been obvious to Lee Seokgi and all the other trainees who had watched him.
So of course he'd get careless.
On the surface, it looked like nothing more than a slow, simple slash.
Thud!
A dull impact rang out.
The downward strike, rushing in like lightning, smashed directly into the crown of Lee Seokgi's head.
"Ghk!"
Lee Seokgi's vision blurred.
In that fading field of view, he saw Cheon Muryang's face—his lips curled upward in a grin.
Damn it… fuck.
Thump.
Lee Seokgi collapsed unconscious.
That was the end.
A match expected to be hard-fought ended astonishingly in a single exchange.
"I'd have preferred a real blade instead of a wooden sword, but I'll let you off with this today."
Murmuring quietly to the fallen Lee Seokgi, Cheon Muryang inhaled the strangely still air around him.
"Whew…"
Cheon Seonhak stepped forward.
Presumably to declare the victor.
But Cheon Muryang thought otherwise.
"I know all the resentment you hold toward me."
"…!"
Cheon Seonhak faltered.
Ignoring him, Cheon Muryang continued.
"The mistakes I made in the past—my vile deeds—can't be covered up by anything. I admit them all. I was a brute, a piece of trash."
Everyone fell silent.
Not even breathing could be heard.
"I can't remember them one by one. I don't remember the faces of those I wronged."
That was not the deed of 'Mu-myeong.'
It was Cheon Muryang's.
And yet Mu-myeong had chosen to bear that burden of sin in his stead.
Because I am Cheon Muryang.
Cheon Muryang met the eyes of everyone gathered there, one by one.
Some still looked at him with open contempt; others watched him with suspicion, trying to read his hidden intentions.
"Still, here and now, I apologize for all the madness and evil I committed."
Slowly, Cheon Muryang bowed his head.
A brief silence passed.
When he raised his head again,
he could feel that some of the gazes directed at him had changed.
"If your anger isn't soothed, come to the training grounds anytime."
"..."
"I'll be here."
With that, Cheon Muryang walked across the training grounds.
Wolyoung followed after him.
"..."
Cheon Seonhak watched Cheon Muryang's retreating back, lost in thought.
"Has he truly changed?"
He couldn't be certain yet.
But in Cheon Seonhak's eyes, as he looked at Cheon Muryang, there was no longer only contempt and disdain.
"Ugh…"
Something squirmed on the ground.
It was the groan of Lee Seokgi, slowly regaining consciousness.
Cheon Seonhak clicked his tongue.
"Tsk. Get him out of here."
The looks of contempt and scorn were now directed not at Cheon Muryang, but at Lee Seokgi.
What was meant to be a chance had instead become his downfall.
"We're leaving."
Cheon Seonhak departed.
The leaders of the Azure Dragon Sword Unit and the Heavenly Phoenix Sword Unit followed behind him.
"What? It's already over?"
Lee Seokgi screamed, unable to believe it.
"I lost in one hit? That's ridiculous!"
But his protest went unheard.
Cheon Muryang didn't particularly feel like resting.
Though it was called a match, he had swung his sword only once.
Still, having already exited,
going back to the training grounds would look odd.
"Looks like I'll be stuck doing breathing and circulation practice all day."
"Days like that aren't so bad, are they?"
"Maybe. Come to think of it, I asked you to watch yesterday's match and tell me what you thought—but there wasn't much to watch."
It was almost embarrassing.
All he had shown was a single cut.
Wolyoung's reaction, however, was different.
"That was the sword you showed me before, right?"
"Yeah. That's right."
"In my opinion, even if that opponent hadn't let his guard down, he still wouldn't have been able to stop it."
"You think so?"
"Yes!"
Cheon Muryang smiled.
That was when he sensed someone outside his room.
"I'm coming in."
It was Cheon Seonhak.
Cheon Muryang faced him as he entered without waiting for permission.
"Ah. I'll prepare tea— not alcohol."
Wolyoung excused herself.
"Sharp girl."
"She's far too good to be just my personal attendant."
"The sword you showed."
"..."
"What were you trying to cut?"
"The heavens. I was trying to cut the heavens."
Cheon Seonhak's eyes trembled slightly.
To cut the heavens—Dancheon (eaven-Severing).
It was Cheon Seonhak's own ideal, the path of the sword he still pursued.
"The heavens, huh…"
How absurd.
Never in his dreams had Cheon Seonhak imagined that the one who understood his path would be Cheon Muryang—the very man he had long despised and given up on.
"They say life is full of twists and turns. This fits perfectly."
With a hollow laugh, Cheon Seonhak fixed Cheon Muryang with a solemn gaze.
"What you said at the training grounds."
"Yes."
"Can you take responsibility for it?"
"If I couldn't, I wouldn't have said it."
"Good. It should be that way."
"Is that all?"
"You won this wager."
"…!"
"Say what you want. I'll grant it."
"To enter the Heavenly Dragon Library—"
Cheon Seonhak rejected it outright.
"That's beyond my authority."
"Hmm…"
"If it's within my authority, I'll grant anything."
Cheon Muryang thought carefully.
What did he need most right now?
There's no better training than real combat, but…
Something sparked in his mind.
He grinned.
"Assign me one person a day to spar with."
"Is that enough for you?"
"Yes. It's more than enough."
"…You'll grow stronger every day."
"That's exactly what I want."
Without another word, Cheon Seonhak stood.
"I'll be going."
"Yes. Take care, Uncle."
"…."
He looked as though he had something to say, but in the end, Cheon Seonhak left without speaking.
"What was that about?"
Cheon Muryang merely shrugged.
With time to spare before Wolyoung returned, he immersed himself in breathing and circulation practice.
"No point in lazing around. Better stay diligent."
Cheon Muryang's consciousness sank deep within.
From that day on,
Cheon Muryang's daily routine changed.
He still ran the training grounds and swung his sword as before, but now he also had to spar regularly with trainees sent at Cheon Seonhak's instruction.
"Why do I have to do this?"
On the first day, Cha Myeonghak—assigned as his opponent—cursed Lee Seokgi.
"Figures. Ever since that bastard became top trainee and started acting up, I knew it. A piece of trash with no business there."
Cha Myeonghak bore a grudge against Cheon Muryang.
"No, actually, this works out nicely. I can crush him legally."
When Cha Myeonghak had first joined as a trainee,
he had seen the eldest young master drunk and rampaging.
That was his first encounter with Cheon Muryang.
"Deranged bastard."
Swinging a sword wildly while drunk—nothing but a madman.
When Cha Myeonghak tried to stop him, he was left with a scar on his face that would never fade.
"I'll pretend it's an accident and leave a scar on you too."
How could he forget such a bitter connection?
Cha Myeonghak harbored malice.
And so, upon arriving at the training grounds, he searched for Cheon Muryang.
There he was—still fat, though he'd lost some weight—swinging his sword.
"..."
Standing in the center of the grounds, Cha Myeonghak expected Cheon Muryang to stop.
He must have sensed his presence.
"..."
But no matter how long he waited, Cheon Muryang didn't stop.
Cha Myeonghak took it as an insult.
Crack!
His brow furrowed.
At that moment, a faint scent of tea drifted in from somewhere.
Whoosh!
He turned his head.
A maid calmly pouring tea came into view.
"Ah…"
It was Wolyoung.
Wolyoung picked up the cup she had poured and walked over to Cha Myeonghak.
"Please have this while you wait. It'll take a bit of time—he's only just begun."
"W-what did you say?"
"Once he starts training, he completely loses awareness of his surroundings."
"..."
"I've prepared some refreshments as well!"
Almost without realizing it, Cha Myeonghak found himself being led by Wolyoung and eating the snacks.
"Does he train like this every day?"
"Yes. Sometimes I worry he might collapse."
"..."
Even as she said that, Wolyoung gazed at Cheon Muryang with eyes filled with a certain pride.
"Are you the personal maid assigned to the eldest young master?"
"Yes."
"You must've suffered a lot of mistreatment. So why do you support him?"
"The young master of the past made many mistakes, that's true. But he's changed. He swings his sword to correct the wrongs of his past."
"..."
Cha Myeonghak mulled over her words.
"Correcting his wrongs, huh…"
He looked at Cheon Muryang again, seeing him in a new light.
Now that he looked again, even the body he'd thought of as piglike somehow appeared sturdy.
I'll acknowledge the effort.
Because that effort wasn't false.
He himself had witnessed it.
Scratch.
A faint ache spread across Cha Myeonghak's brow.
It felt as though something was scraping at his nerves.
His body tensed for no apparent reason.
He assumed it was just tension.
So he brushed it off and looked back at Cheon Muryang.
Whooosh!
The sword sliced through the air.
Come to think of it…
The speed of the blade was incredibly consistent.
Cha Myeonghak observed Cheon Muryang's form more closely.
Shiver!
The hair on his arms stood on end.
A chill ran through him.
Not a hair's breadth of deviation.
It wasn't just the speed.
The trajectory, the point where the sword rose, where it stopped, the placement of his feet, the distribution of strength—down to the position of the hand gripping the hilt.
Everything is the same.
How could that be possible?
No matter how elite or meticulously trained someone was, it was impossible to be this perfectly identical every time.
H-how could such… such a sword come from that reckless eldest young master?
The prejudice surrounding Cha Myeonghak was cut apart.
And then, he realized where Cheon Muryang's sword was aimed.
N-no way…
Cha Myeonghak rubbed his brow again.
Whoosh!
It burned.
It felt as though a sharp blade were placed right before his forehead.
D-don't tell me… from the very beginning… he's been swinging his sword at me?
Even at this very moment.
Cheon Muryang's wooden sword was falling toward Cha Myeonghak.
"T-this…"
What should one even call this?
Cha Myeonghak couldn't bring himself to finish his thought.
From the moment he stepped onto the training grounds, the duel with Cheon Muryang had already begun.
Cha Myeonghak lowered his head.
That was when it happened.
"Ah, I got so focused without realizing it."
Cheon Muryang's voice rang out as he stopped his training.
"You came to have a match with me, right? Nice to meet you, Cha Myeonghak."
"...!"
Cha Myeonghak's eyes flew open.
How did he know his name?
"H-how do you know my name?"
"Well, someday you'll officially become a warrior of our clan, right? I try to memorize names whenever I can."
Mumyeong had trained under Cheon Seonhak and had connections with warriors of the Cheonryong Sword Unit and the Cheonbong Sword Unit.
That was how he'd known Neung Ryeoun's name as well.
Cha Myeonghak, too, was someone destined to become a member of the Cheonryang Sword Unit.
"..."
"Well then, shall we begin?"
"I've lost."
"Huh? What did you say?"
Cheon Muryang doubted his own ears.
Who admits defeat before the fight has even begun, after coming all this way to spar?
"I acknowledge my defeat, Eldest Young Master."
Was he mocking him?
No—Cha Myeonghak bowed deeply with a solemn expression. He looked sincere.
Glance.
Unable to make sense of it, Cheon Muryang shifted his gaze toward Wolyoung.
[ I. don't. really. know. either. ]
Wolyoung replied with the shape of her lips.
She, too, had no idea why Cha Myeonghak was acting this way.
He seemed so full of hostility, so I just offered him tea… Did I do something unnecessary?
She could only doubt herself.
"Ah, um, but still, shouldn't we spar—"
"I'll prepare myself properly and challenge you again, Young Master."
After bowing in respect, Cha Myeonghak left the training grounds.
"Tsk… What in the world just happened?"
Wolyoung approached, her face drawn.
"Could it be that the tea I served wasn't good…?"
"Hey, how could that be?"
Instead of sparring,
Cheon Muryang devoured Wolyoung's snacks instead.
"Stop eating!"
"You're the one who told me to eat!"
"I'm worried you'll gain weight again!"