Awakening (1)
A guttural scream erupted from his lungs like a volcano, snapping him back to consciousness. He instinctively clutched at his throat, confirming it was still attached.
A! The man whipped his head around, disbelief seizing him. It would take time to accept this as reality. The countless repeated cycles blurred the line between dream and truth. Forgotten memories crashed into his brain all at once.
It didn't take long. His reason, now as cold and settled as his calmed demeanor, swiftly pieced together the facts. Cold rationality—that was one thing he prided himself on, unmatched by anyone.
The Fallen Scholar. He had challenged the exams in the past but failed repeatedly, eventually denied even the chance to try. It wasn't a lack of skill. His great-grandfather's blunder had blocked his future. It was unjust. Had he committed treason? No. His great-grandfather had merely competed in poetry with the eldest son of the Chief Scholar for fun. Who could have foreseen that innocent rivalry would become a grudge haunting generations?
No one knew the Chief Scholar's house—idols of young scholars for ages—was actually a nest of corrupt officials wielding power from the shadows. Reality offered no solace for his grievances. It was filthy, ugly. He wanted to shatter the absurd world where background trumped talent, leaving him powerless.
And he died.
—Destroying evil alone.
To topple this unjust reality, he needed power. He would have sold his soul to the devil if it meant payback.
"Paewang!!"
He had thoroughly crushed the Chief Scholar and his clan, only to have his head lopped off by Paewang in the end. His brilliant mind and ironclad composure meant nothing to Paewang.
Fine, he admitted it. The victor writes history without words.
"A whopping 100 times my head rolled!!"
If that were all, he could understand. But he died even when he did nothing. Excluding the first cycle, he perished before he could even start. Slain by that bastard before venting his worldly grudges.
Grind! His teeth gnashed.
The more memories of the 101 cycles returned, the more his fury trembled. Save for the first, he accomplished nothing. Death came faster each time, impossible to stop.
Why? Because he didn't know.
Who could imagine a madman like that would regress and appear every time? It was too unfair. The bastard knew, while he didn't. A strong foe who struck first meant not invincible in a hundred battles, but death in a hundred.
He wanted to charge out now and exact revenge. But his opponent was the monster who shattered the perfection of the first cycle with raw power. If this was the 101st, who knew how strong he'd be, what powers he'd wield? Even if regression reset him, the Fallen Scholar was just that now—a failed exam candidate.
"You goddamn son of a bitch!"
Killed from the start, he knew nothing of future history. Meanwhile, that bastard likely knew everything after him. From the outset, it was absurd, and with foreknowledge of the future, impossible to handle immediately.
"Maybe things have changed for him too."
Not perfectly, but realizing his 100-cycle memories had returned meant the bastard might have changed too. Memories were incomplete, so he couldn't be sure, but he couldn't stay home. In three years, he'd stand right here and lose his head to him. For now, survey reality and maximize the first cycle's memories.
"Alone, it's impossible."
To face that monster, he'd need the entire martial world's power. First, he had to grow stronger himself. Logic without power held no sway in the jianghu. He'd end up a mere ally. This time, he'd be at the center, not the periphery.
"I won't lose to you again!"
Mortal enemy, yet fear of him lingered. Still, he couldn't bear seeing him thrive. He'd sabotage everything the bastard did.
And yet...
"...Can I really do it?"
Damn hesitation. A weakness tempted him to hide in obscurity.
"...No!"
The Fallen Scholar barely denied it. Hiding wouldn't work. Recalling Paewang's tenacity sent chills down his spine. A devil who pursued evildoers to the world's end, perhaps even into death. To live, he had to fight.
"I didn't do anything— no need to kill me!"
That was the biggest problem. Even without acting, his past lives had. Irreversible reality drove the Fallen Scholar to the precipice.
"I won't weaken!"
He would have revenge.
Hummm, screeeee! A majestic palm force swept through. Space seemed to compress in an instant before exploding outward. The inner chambers froze in shock at the destructive power that brooked no life.
Gulp! Swallows were drowned by successive clashes. Ruthless palms denied any advance, countless palm shadows sealing escape and targeting his back.
Boom, whoooosh! His back blurred. Each missed strike on empty air boomed like a torn war drum. The chambers seemed to lift into the void then sink, an illusion.
Speed, destructive force. Those alone made it a world-shaking might none could follow.
It should have been enough, yet as time passed, the onslaught grew fiercer, more lethal.
Hmm. She swallowed a groan. It started with a surprise attack, unleashing waves of offense. Seemingly advantageous, but really empty swings. The net-like overlapping palm shadows were full of gaps.
The palms weren't merely fast. The erupted force bore down with pressure, crushing space. It rendered her Yeui Jangap useless. Not just body, but spirit crushed too.
Groan turned to hollow despair.
Ha! Jeok I-ryeong was utterly baffled. Not as if she hadn't seen it before. Her son becoming a master in days? As a mother, how could she not be stunned? They were all like her husband, but not idiots to use obvious tricks. Even in schemes, they kept lines. No one wanted beatings every three days.
The letter said he split a table with sword qi. Using qi could neatly bisect it. But cleaving barehanded wasn't simple. Martial cultivation revealed how precise inner force control it demanded. Even accounting for exaggeration by non-martial outer manager and deputy steward, it was extraordinary.
That fueled suspicion. Her son, extraordinary? A hedgehog sees its young as treasures, but honestly, her son wasn't gifted. An ordinary... son? A bit... lacking... son? Fine, very lacking! Satisfied? Lacking or not, she couldn't tolerate others insulting him. Only she could.
She'd rushed to confirm upon the letter. But rumors and rival merchant disputes delayed her. Only after resolution could she visit the branch. She had to see for herself.
Reality stunned her. Facing her surprise attack, her son's response defied imagination. Regret for overdoing it from the start was futile. Who was worrying whom?
Hard to believe, but her son's martial prowess surpassed hers. Awesome fell short. Like a dream.
If he'd gained fortune for inner force superiority, it'd be unrealistic but acceptable. Yet with far inferior inner force, he casually blocked her 9th Star Yeui Seon-gyeol-infused Yeui Cheon-seon-jang.
Palm arts amplify inner force for doubled power. Against peers, evasion was best. Thus, strike after palm deployment. Moreover, Yeui Cheon-seon-jang was one of the family's absolute secrets—not ancient, but few rivals under heaven.
The fierce swirling energy in her palms dissolved into gentle flows at her son's gestures. Unbelievable, but he completely dismantled the force, reverting it.
Is this possible?
Not mere weakness exploited—the gap widened with each clash. Their martial depths differed utterly. What she thought mastery of Yeui Seon-gyeol was laid bare like naked truth.
What is this?
Childhood memory of grandfather surfaced. An impenetrable heavenly barrier. Yet from her son emanated a wall surpassing that grandfather.
Even unleashing Gwon-gak-sul with Yeui Sin-bo after family palms yielded no gain; she was being drawn in.
Forgetting to stop. Water and self as one. No-mind state. Life-death unity. Past pierced present, crumbling the blocking wall.
Suddenly plunged into mental realm, body and mind swept away. Thoughts vanished, dam burst.
Inner force peaked, hitting mortal limits.
Hummm! Paat! Like a savage dragon's final roar with thunder and lightning, skies cleared miraculously to bright day.
Nothing happened. Realizing momentary peril, she felt bodily fullness.
Fortune comes suddenly, they say. Miss it, unknown when next. But calling this chance coincidence strained credulity. Swept by son's prowess, she'd unknowingly transcended limits. Unbelievable miracle pulling opponent's martial will to desired heights.
I crossed the wall.
Made sense? Gu Clan inner lady Jeok I-ryeong stood dazed, speechless.
Beyond realistic senses. Externally unchanged, but latent potential's gap was heaven beyond heaven.
Her son looked new.
This is my son?
Just back from maternal home. Too vast a change for "changed." So altered he seemed not her son—like another wearing his skin. She'd believe soul-swap sorcery.
Yet keen maternal instinct insisted it was him. Not son-like, but was. Absurd contradiction accepted.
Jeok I-ryeong called unwittingly.
"Son?"
"Yes, Mother."
Unbelievable! Jeok I-ryeong nearly collapsed.
The child she'd thought forever in her arms called her Mother. Not her son again, yet sharp instinct confirmed.
"Son, what's with that tone? Say 'Mom'!"
"...Mother!"
Gu Cheon-woo, smoothly advancing stages against mother's ambush, faltered here.
Still difficult.
Encounter with mother came much later in past cycles. Even then, same treatment. Unchanged across regressions.
Such a mother, yet...
I never truly honored her in the end.
He'd only stopped by clan to prepare against foes before rushing to jianghu for evil.