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Reflecting on War

Let’s consider war.

Without needing further elaboration, it could simply be called hell.

No matter which street you walk down, traces of the dead are everywhere, and the once-clear brook is now a murky mix of blood.

The brilliant sky is stained red, and the towering walls are cracked and in disarray.

The people lingering in the streets wear expressions of sheer terror or seem utterly defeated as if they’ve given up on everything.

Hope is nowhere to be found.

Their faces tell that story.

That’s what war is from the start.

Just like how there can’t be such a thing as a beautiful fight, the most brutal of all is war.

Under the name of Blood Calamity, the world is gradually rotting away.

That was the case in my previous life too.

It’s only been a few years since the Heavenly Demon appeared. A timeframe that short was sufficient to bring the world to this state.

Now, how many more years do we have until that kind of world arrives?

I knew well enough that it wouldn’t be too long.

Back then, there was the Divine Sword.

Along with it, there were countless forces that supported the Divine Sword, making it possible to overcome the Blood Calamity.

But I knew all too well that such a thing was impossible for me.

Still, if I truly wanted to take Wi Seol-Ah’s place…

It meant I’d need at least the same amount of power and influence she had saved up.

Though the Divine Sword was certainly formidable.

It was also a problem that the countless individuals who had supported her were still in play.

I knew it was impossible to attract people using the status Wi Seol-Ah held or her gentle ways of drawing others in.

It was just not in my nature, and I had zero experience dealing with people that way.

It’s not a method that particularly fits me either, and forcefully copying it would be pointless.

I had to find my own way.

‘My own method….’

It’s not like I had nothing come to mind.

I already knew the easiest path.

That is.

‘Demonization.’

Just as Nangong Cheonjun became so, I understood I could corrupt others with my Demon Energy.

Furthermore, I knew that I could handle them like slaves, tethered to me by their Demon Energy.

So, if I wanted to build a force, this method would suit me best.

Given that it’s a plan I can’t believe I’m even considering.

If I were to form a group with those who have been devoured by my Demon Energy, then there really wouldn’t be a better way.

‘But is that truly…’

The right thing to do?

Such thoughts would occasionally flit through my mind.

There have been countless moments of hesitation, not wanting to live that way.

At the very least, I was struggling not to live the same life I had in my previous existence, and if I ended up choosing this method…

‘How am I any different from the Heavenly Demon?’

No matter how I looked at it, if I resorted to such actions under the guise of stopping the Demonic Sect…

…wouldn’t that be no different than creating a Demonic Sect myself?

Such thoughts filled my mind.

Of course, that said.

‘…Are there really no alternatives?’

Such musings could only arise if there were other viable options available.

It’s not right, and I don’t want to,

But I can’t just decide whether to do this or not.

Thus, I too, having felt this way, set boundaries from the start when drawing up a list of candidates.

Those who wouldn’t be a problem if corrupted into Demonized beings.

I’ve even sorted those who would be fine dying as Demons; those were laid out clearly.

This is my last justification I can hold onto.

‘Even if it’s wrong, I’ll have to bear it.’

Simply saying I would take the place of the Divine Sword doesn’t answer anything.

I know it.

I’m not suited for such a role.

So, I must use every means and method at my disposal.

Guilt? Regret? Hesitation?

Let me say it again.

Those are concerns for when there are other options.

This means,

I currently have no room to choose such things.

There’s no time to ponder.

If I’ve planned what I can do, then I have to execute it.

Now is the time to quickly build up the strength to carry that out.

Crack!

I added more force to my punch to increase my speed.

Boom!

The moment it hit, the cave wall crumbled from the impact.

Even this small movement brought a wave of pain.

But after experiencing so much pain, it seemed that now even hurting this much only made my eyebrows twitch slightly. Should I consider that a good thing?

Thinking I should like this kind of thing, was my mind gradually soaking in training?

In the midst of it all, the difference compared to before was clear.

‘My movement has changed.’

It’s a subtle difference, but the way I extend my fist has transformed.

What should I say?

It’s cleaner, perhaps? Or maybe I should say something uncomfortable has vanished?

As I pondered briefly on how to express it, a fitting word came to mind.

‘Flexibility.’

There’s now flexibility in my movements.

With that flexibility, it feels like my method of exerting power has improved a bit.

‘No, it’s more than just a feeling.’

It’s close to certainty.

It was clear that my body underwent changes from training in Tua Pacheonmu.

Is this an illustration of what the Pejon spoke about, that it changes the physical form?

‘How ridiculous.’

Despite training tirelessly, and thinking nothing would improve,

Learning just one more technique has opened up a new path.

‘…But calling it just one more is a bit harsh.’

Breathing itself becomes a struggle, and enduring it is problematic enough.

Still, if one can endure the pain, no one could argue that there’s no better divine skill than this.

Anyone who experiences it would understand.

I did not stop moving my body.

I was already drenched in sweat and had been moving while cutting sleep for days, so the fatigue was building up significantly.

Yet, without a hint of hesitation, I kept moving.

Even if it meant pushing myself to the brink of unconsciousness, I wouldn’t stop until then.

This way of acting had been going on for days already.

Perhaps due to my intense focus, I had recently started to feel something strange.

My body was shaking.

Rather than saying it was moving, it would be more accurate to say it was trembling.

Before I knew it, my body seemed to have slipped beyond my control, fluttering aimlessly.

Though the movements lacked control, I made no effort to seize it back.

Some far-off instinct told me I shouldn’t.

I could feel pain growing from the foot I stepped forward with.

My knees and back were not in good shape.

In the lower Dantian, I continuously released Tua Pacheonggong.

My Demon Energy flowed like an unending stream, never ceasing for days.

It was only using my internal skill to move my body, so there was nothing to bet against Biwaegun.

My sight grew hazy.

Should I really be focusing my gaze?

There was no need.

The countless movements I initiated would automatically unfold, even without my will.

The pain gradually dulled.

Was this the State of No-Self tinted with fatigue?

Knowing well enough that this wasn’t a destination I could reach with just this made me feel rather foolish.

Anything would suffice now.

‘A little more.’

I wanted to relinquish my body to this sensation just a bit longer.

It was an unknown discomfort.

I knew that if I tried to snap back to focus, this delicate feeling would fade.

A contradictory sensation I had to intentionally ignore.

Should I call this enlightenment?

If I were to break away from this feeling, what would happen? I was somewhat curious.

At that moment.

Crack.

‘Ah. Damn it.’

Was my previous worry the issue?

Gradually, my mind became clearer.

The hazy sensation I was clutching onto began returning to its original state.

Should I forcefully try to reclaim it again?

Just as I was starting to think that…

“Stop right there.”

Someone appeared and grabbed my body.

The wild motions of my body abruptly halted.

“…Hah….”

Suddenly, the strength maintaining my body vanished, and I collapsed.

“Hah…. Hah….”

I pressed my palms against the ground, barely managing to hold myself up.

Was I this exhausted?

Sweat dripped down my face, soaking the floor.

It was only then that I noticed my shaking hands.

I hadn’t realized it before, but it seemed my body had reached its limits.

As I staggered and gasped, someone spoke to me from behind.

It was the Pejon.

“How long were you planning on going? Until dawn, it seems.”

“…Y-Yes…?”

I had to widen my eyes at the Pejon’s words.

Had that much time passed…?

Upon seeing my expression, the Pejon let out a chuckle and continued.

“You seem to have lost track of how long it’s been.”

Surely just a moment ago, it felt like the Pejon wasn’t there.

When had he arrived, and how long had it been since he appeared?

At least it wasn’t in my memory.

Did that amount of time truly pass while engulfed in that hazy sensation?

“…”

As I silently stared at the Pejon in that situation, he grinned.

“Were you disappointed?”

“…Not at all.”

“Not at all, yet you have a look of regret all over your face.”

Was that so?

I had thought I was hiding it well, but it seems I was showing it.

“Don’t think I interrupted you; had I not caught you, it would have been a disaster.”

“I didn’t think that way.”

Given my physical condition, it was clear.

If I had continued any longer, I would have pushed myself too far.

My body was precisely at its limit now.

Though I had slipped into a State of No-Self, the Pejon likely intervened for my sake. Understanding this, I wasn’t particularly bothered by it.

Hearing my reply, the Pejon pouted as if displeased.

“…Saying that makes it rather unentertaining.”

“What do you mean by that…?”

As I was about to express my confusion, the Pejon threw something at me.

With a feeble swing of my arm, I managed to catch it—it was a gourd.

Something sloshed around inside.

“Quench your thirst first. Ugh, seriously…It’s sad to see an old man fetching water for a kid.”

“…Thank you.”

I was parched, so I performed the necessary courtesies and drank it down in one go.

What a difference it made—just a few sips felt rejuvenating.

While I drank deeply, the Pejon asked me.

“How was it? That brief moment you reached that place.”

After swallowing a few mouthfuls, I posed my question back to the Pejon.

“That place, you say?”

“The place you just touched.”

“…”

“Fleeting yet not wanting to leave. A hint of anxiety lurking, as if you’d fall away should you make a mistake.”

“…That is…”

“That’s correct; it’s a right direction, so don’t perceive it oddly.”

I had to display an unusual sentiment to the Pejon’s statement.

I thought it was something akin to enlightenment. Listening to his explanation, it felt distinctly different from the realization one gets as a martial artist.

“The reason I told you not to be disappointed was that, sooner or later, you must reach that place.”

“I have to reach it someday?”

“Have you heard the term State of No-Self (無我之境)?”

“Yes.”

The feeling of forgetting oneself and harmonizing with the movements.

This is a phenomenon that often occurs when martial artists achieve certain insights.

For those in pursuit of enlightenment, it’s akin to a dream.

“What you experienced is indeed akin to a State of No-Self.”

That means the phenomenon I just encountered could be considered enlightenment?

However, if that’s the case, the Pejon’s words seem a bit mismatched.

As such thoughts crossed my mind, the Pejon spoke to me.

“More precisely… it can be said to be a State of No-Self created by Tua Pacheonmu.”

“…Excuse me?”

Upon hearing the Pejon’s explanation, my eyes widened in surprise.

A State of No-Self born from Tua Pacheonmu?

“Does Tua Pacheonmu create a State of No-Self?”

I asked, looking bewildered, and I could see the corners of the Pejon’s mouth twitching upward slightly.

“I didn’t think I’d already have to explain this. You’ve experienced it sooner than I expected.”

“…”

“My martial arts were born solely out of my own selfish desires, as you must have heard.”

“Yes.”

The martial art developed by the Pejon to become a more exceptional martial artist is Tua Pacheonmu itself.

“To be precise, I wished to transcend the limits of humanity.”

“…The limits… You mean?”

“Yes, it was the martial art I created for that purpose.”

The constraints of humanity.

So, does that mean he wanted to become a god?

 

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