Chapter 726
Chapter 7: The Awakening
“Yul-A.”
Once, my Master said something profound.
“There will be times when the world feels cruel only to you.”
To me, he was both a parent and a friend.
A friend who was everything, often lifting my young self onto his knee and imparting such wisdom.
His rough yet gentle hand would stroke my hair.
“Remember that, no matter how hard the world may be on you, it isn’t your fault.”
Those words were meant to comfort the young Seongyul, who cried from all the struggles he faced.
Though I nodded at the time, I was still confused, unable to grasp their meaning despite the passing years.
Could it truly not be my fault?
The world darkened more and more.
Desires and intentions surged forth at random.
No matter how many insights from the Tao I recited, I could not control these urges.
I wanted to kill.
I wanted to end the life of everything I could see.
Why? I didn’t know.
I didn’t understand why I was feeling this way either.
It felt like something I absolutely had to do.
As if the very reason for my existence hinged on it.
Unable to hold back, I bit down on my Master’s hand with all my might.
Yet, Master, with the same expression as always, gently patted my back.
“It’s okay. You can endure. You can do this.”
His words encouraged me to endure.
I shifted from biting his hand to my own and, on days when I simply couldn’t endure, I sought solace in the shadows under my blanket.
That was how I lived.
A cursed life.
But my Master, who accepted me as I was.
Clutching onto that thought, I somehow persevered.
The Master was my shelter.
The barrier that sheltered and protected me. Because of him, I could endure, and because of him, I could survive.
Then what now?
With him gone, how should I live?
It was the first thought that arose when I killed a person.
The blood on the blade of my sword.
Seongyul looked at the lifeless body he had killed.
It lay cruelly torn apart, a victim of his hand.
It was said to be a man who had raped a woman from a neighboring village and fled.
“…”
What did I feel at that moment?
The day was marked by rain pouring from the sky. It rained so heavily that some areas experienced floods.
I stood there watching blood wash away, alongside someone who was dying coldly.
Having lived as a member of the sect, guilt clouded my mind for having taken a life.
Fear about having ended a human life lingered.
It would be a lie to say I felt none of that, yet nestled deep within, amidst all the heavy emotions, was…
Ecstasy.
“Haah… huff.”
It was overwhelming.
How brilliant a thing is the dying human life.
Even in the downpour, the metallic scent of blood lingered thickly, seducing my senses with its fragrant allure.
How could something be so beautiful?
I was quickly succumbing to addiction in the act of killing.
The moment I realized this—
“Ugh…!!”
Seongyul fell to his knees, retching.
“Gah…!”
He couldn’t bear the sight of himself.
The fact that he was captivated by another’s death made him feel less than human.
As if he were a monster, he felt overwhelming disgust.
“Hurk….”
Swallowing back tears, Seongyul grasped his sword tight.
The very sword that had hewn down that man in a frenzy.
Now that same sword was aimed at his own neck.
If it came to this, I’d rather die.
Better to vanish.
Just as he resolved to sever his own throat—
“Yul-A.”
“…”
At the faint sound of his Master’s voice, Seongyul froze.
“It’s all right.”
Master’s words to him came flooding back.
Even as he faced death, Seongyul remembered the old man’s smiling face.
“Live.”
Seongyul couldn’t bring himself to strike.
“…Aah….”
Was life still meaningful if it was just prolonging his existence?
The thought that he would ultimately become a monster. Did he still hold any worth as a human?
“Please….”
If only someone would provide the answer.
At that moment, Seongyul found himself praying in the rain.
“Jin Imseok.”
“…”
At the sound of that name, Seongyul’s eyes opened wide.
He saw a spacious area beyond his blurred line of sight.
A wide, flat space surrounded by numerous spectators.
His heart raced—thump-thump!
With a vile intent, the crowd felt like a swarm of insects.
He yearned to crush them all, to paint the world red with their blood.
Such thoughts made him grip his chest.
“Haah.”
It’s fine.
Calming his breath, he recalled—
Behind him stood his Master.
So he could endure.
Repeating this to himself, Seongyul cooled his head.
“Jin Imseok. Are you well?”
He nodded at the judge’s inquiry.
“Now we shall begin. Are you truly all right?”
A question meant to assess his condition.
His answer had been determined long before.
“Yes. No problem.”
“Very well.”
The judge’s gaze shifted to the individual standing across from Seongyul.
A figure clad in dark colors from head to toe.
“…Bi Seongdo, was it?”
The Lesser Clan Leader of the Peng Family, Bi Seongdo.
Indeed, that was the name of the young man.
“Peng Woojin.”
“I’m ready as well. Once upon a time.”
“…I understand. Then, prepare for martial arts sparring.”
With the judge’s command, Woojin smiled.
That smile made Seongyul feel an inexplicable aura.
“What’s going on?”
There was something inscrutable in his words.
It was a bizarre sensation he could hardly articulate.
A rising sense of wariness washed over him as he frowned, sensing an unseen energy from Woojin.
“Are you the Jin Prince?”
“Yes.”
Jin Imseok—a name that felt foreign to him still.
Yet, since it was a command, Seongyul merely nodded.
“I see you appear rather close to our Gu Prince.”
“…Pardon?”
Our?
The way he phrased it felt oddly off, yet Seongyul chose not to comment.
“What do you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“They say a friend of a friend is a friend too. Since I have a close relationship with the Gu Prince, why not form a bond with me as well?”
“…”
What was that supposed to mean all of a sudden?
Seongyul was left speechless amid the unexpected conversation.
Why was he being taunted just before a sparring match?
Although that thought flickered in his mind, he chose not to delve deeper.
“There’s something vital I must focus on.”
After all, there was something to be gained from this sparring match.
He couldn’t afford to be distracted by trifles.
With a swish, he swiftly drew his sword before responding.
Woojin, who had been smiling, paused ever-so-slightly.
“My apologies.”
“What?! Refusing? That’s quite disappointing.”
“Not a refusal. I simply correct you; I am not a friend of the Gu Prince.”
“Hmm?”
Seongyul couldn’t be woven into the fabric of friendship with this man.
“I’m merely following in his footsteps. We have no friendship worth speaking of.”
Following in his footsteps didn’t mean he’d shadow his path or anything.
It was simply a literal following.
“Moreover.”
Seongyul tightened his grip on the sword.
“While I’m grateful for your words, I kindly decline, as forming bonds would hinder my resolve.”
He didn’t want to waste his efforts.
He had to win this sparring match, no matter what.
“Hmm.”
Woojin sighed, as if disappointed by Seongyul’s words, yet somehow maintaining his smile.
“What a shame. I can’t compare to Gu Prince, but you possess quite a good color yourself.”
Color?
Did he mean his martial robe, his eyes, or perhaps his hair?
Seongyul pondered for a moment but Woojin merely continued.
“I fully comprehend your words, and thus it’s even more regrettable.”
If they formed a bond, he’d hesitate to strike.
Woojin perfectly understood the weight behind that statement.
“Thus, I yearned to forge a connection,” he said.
“…?”
Just as Seongyul frowned at his words—
“Prepare.”
The judge’s voice echoed.
At those words, Seongyul heightened his awareness.
He couldn’t afford to let his guard down.
Seongyul vowed not to let Woojin catch him off guard.
Before mounting the sparring stage, Gu Yangcheong had clearly instructed him.
“Do all you can, or I’ll come down there and kill you myself!”
Just hearing that warning sent chills down his spine.
Lost in thought, he sweat under that reminder, deciphering the meaning behind it.
He was an opponent he could unleash his full potential against.
Gu Yangcheong had delivered a warning in advance.
“Focus.”
Tension.
Guard.
Concentration.
Slowly, Seongyul felt his Qi perception awakening, his body warming up.
With each breath, he funnelled his energy and concentrated all his nerves on Woojin.
He wouldn’t lose.
He would win, no matter what.
And so—
“I shall listen to my Master’s words.”
He prepared himself mentally.
With his resolve solidified, the judge slowly opened his mouth.
“Martial Arts Sparring—begin!”
Swish-!
As the judge’s hand descended, Seongyul lunged toward Woojin—
“Sorry in advance.”
Bang-!
“Gah!”
Seongyul fell to his knees.
“What just happened?” was all he could think as blurred vision struggled to adjust.
Drip—
Thud—!
Blood began to stain the ground.
His own blood.
He hastily covered his mouth with his hand.
Through the hazy view, he grasped the situation.
“Did I just lose consciousness…?”
Even a fleeting second had turned into what felt like an eternity.
Seongyul realized without a doubt that he had fainted.
What had transpired?
Raising his stiffened gaze, he caught sight of Woojin standing before him.
What had struck him?
Was it his fist or a dull edge of the sword?
Whatever it was, it was an unmistakable attack.
In that moment.
“It usually goes like this.”
A voice from Woojin pierced Seongyul’s thoughts.
“I’m not particularly fond of this, you see.”
“…What?”
“After all, trying to teach the inept is pointless, and since I have my desires, it’s hard to show you much.”
It was evident that he didn’t like it one bit, with Woojin’s scratching his face.
“Yet…”
“…!”
Seongyul scrambled to roll out of the way.
Crack—!
As he spoke, Woojin swung his weapon, aiming for where Seongyul had just stood.
Woosh—!! The heavy sound nearly made Seongyul choke.
If he hadn’t moved, the blade would’ve surely pierced deep into his chest.
“That’s why I’m being asked for something in exchange, and unlike the other morons, you appear to have some backbone, so let’s see what you’ve got.”
Crash-!
As Woojin’s weapon struck the ground, the repercussions altered the course of the fight.
His sword began to darken ominously.
“If I have one wish for you, Jin Prince… I implore you…”
Brrrrr—!!
The ominous howl of the blade struck fear in Seongyul as he bit his lip.
What was he about to say?
His words left him confused.
“Just… make me a little happy.”
As soon as Woojin finished his sentence, he lunged forward, grinning wickedly.
Crack-!
“Gah!”
Seongyul let out a yelp as he managed to block Woojin’s blade with his own.
Now he understood.
What that inexplicable sensation around Woojin truly was.
It was fear.
Seongyul’s primal instinct feared Woojin.
Zing-!
He urgently coated his sword with strong energy.
While he could hold off Woojin’s overwhelming assault, merely standing against it left him feeling faint.
Bang-! Bang-bang-! Bang-!!
He struck with the force of a club.
Despite blocking every attack, he felt as if his arms might shatter.
Creeeak-!
“…!”
The contact between their swords twisted the trajectory of his blade.
Boom-! The force crashed into Seongyul’s upper body.
His stance exposed, a chasm of vulnerability appeared.
Seongyul hastily gathered his energy to defend but—
Crack-!
Woojin struck with the flat of his weapon.
The moment he did, Seongyul’s defenses crumbled.
It was tremendous power.
Crash-!!
“Gah!”
The blow decimated Seongyul’s body.
He distinctly felt the fractures in his ribs.
As he rolled, he left behind a trail of blood on the sparring stage.
“Ugh…”
Finally halting his body, Seongyul gripped his chest, breathing heavily.
He gasped painfully, each breath a reminder of his injuries.
Though he felt that pain, he realized he had to move.
Woojin showed no signs of letting up.
Dodging incoming strikes, Seongyul contemplated.
“He’s strong…”
He understood that now.
Through this barrage, he’d learned.
This man was far beyond his expectations.
It felt different from battling Gu Yangcheong, yet the conclusion remained the same.
“I… can’t win.”
The end was unmistakable. No matter what he did, he couldn’t possibly win.
The gap was overwhelmingly vast, erasing any hope for victory.
Perhaps that was why Gu Yangcheong had made such a bet.
Knowing full well he could never win, that must have been his reasoning.
If so, that was just cruel.
Boom—!
The strike against his blade sent Seongyul’s legs trembling.
His knees buckled.
Even attempting to parry, the sheer force bore down on him.
It felt as if a boulder had been dropped on him.
“Once more.”
Woojin’s voice rang out.
Despite his formidable power, the calm warning made Seongyul grit his teeth.
He knew he couldn’t dodge.
The moment he heard those words, the attack had descended.
Bam—!!
A greater blow crashed down, and—
“Gah…!!!”
With that, Seongyul’s other knee buckled, falling to the ground.
The agony seeped in, and the sword he held fell from his grasp.
“Ah…”
It was over.
Looking at his blade, reality set in.
There was nothing he could do.
Clatter—!
His sword fell to the ground as his fallen body weighed heavily on him.
His limbs, drained of strength, crumpled beneath him.
Muscles trembled, mutely screaming.
‘…’
Gazing downwards, his vision gradually faded.
The pain of not hearing any more of his Master’s wisdom pressed deep within him. Yet there was nothing to be done.
‘…I can’t win.’
He could do nothing.
From the very beginning, it had been an impossibility.
Just as his perspective faded into darkness—
[Hey.]
“…!”
Startled—!
Seongyul’s eyes widened at the familiar voice.
[What the hell are you doing?]
It was a telepathic communication.
He swiftly turned to glimpse beyond.
Amongst the throng of spectators, among those waiting, he spotted a piercing gaze directed right at him.
[What are you thinking, giving up? You crazy bastard?]
“…”
Under the stinging shout, Seongyul bit his lip.
Normally, he would have quietly accepted such words.
[What the hell do you mean you can’t win?]
As Seongyul turned to fight against the sense of despair, he felt as if these words rang true within him.
Yet he couldn’t grasp their layer of meaning.
[You think you can just give up? You have more to give! You’ve done so much already.]
“…I can’t possibly…!”
[You can’t win? What made you so certain?]
[Didn’t you just give it your all?]
[Ha.]
Seongyul’s words seemed like a joke to Gu Yangcheong.
[You gave it your all? You still have power left to send me a telepathic message. Did you really give it your all?]
[…!]
At Gu Yangcheong’s words, Seongyul fell silent for a moment.
[You’ve done all you could? What is that? You’ve hardly done anything! You’ve just taken a few hits and started whining!]
Seongyul clenched his fists.
He wanted to argue back, but his mind fell short of any valid retort.
[Stop acting like a brat. Just because you’re scared doesn’t mean you can slack off and convince yourself that you’ve done your best! That’s pathetic!]
[But… you don’t understand…!]
[Then show me! Prove what you can do! You’ve got a lot of fight left in you! Don’t forget about what you’re capable of!]
Seongyul felt anger swell within him.
Those words seemed to ignite a spark anew.
It was easy to give in to defeat. Every thought screamed for him to surrender.
No.
Not yet.
Clenching his teeth, he tried to force himself upright, trembling as he did.
“Ugh…”
He felt a heavy limitation in his muscles.
But Woojin languidly awaited him.
As if everything were a mere game to him.
[Prove it.]
Even in his weakened state, Gu Yangcheong’s voice reverberated within Seongyul.
Something he hadn’t tried yet was still within reach.
With resolve, he closed his eyes, searching the shadows that obscured his mind.
Old and cracked locks.
A simple touch would shatter its confines.
Holding back what was brewing inside.
He knew if he opened that door, the monsters within would emerge, possibly consuming him whole.
Even through all that fear, he still understood—
[Don’t be afraid.]
Hearing Gu Yangcheong in his thoughts, he felt.
[It’ll be all right.]
“…”
Before he knew it, Seongyul touched the locks.
Click.
Crumble-!
With a barely noticeable sensation, the locks shattered, and—
Creeeak-!
The door once locked swung open.
In that instant—
Woosh—!!!
The surging energy from within engulfed Seongyul.
