Those Who Meet Must Part
Why was his life still intact?
A beat too late, the Sword Demon finally grasped the situation.
The trembling arms. The look of sheer resentment in those eyes. Even the blood trickling down the corner of the mouth.
Internal injuries.
He didn't know the exact details, but the opponent had undoubtedly pushed past their limits. Was that how a mere swordsman had managed to withstand his sword qi?
It doesn't matter.
In the end, the fact that the Sword Demon was the only one who could still move would decide the victor of this battle.
From the Sword Demon's broken sword, sword qi fueled by his very life force flared up. Maintaining his thrusting stance, he lunged toward the girl who still couldn't move.
"Cough!"
A brief, final gasp. Not dead, stagnant blood, but fresh, crimson blood sprayed into the air.
The Sword Demon gasped out.
"...Telekinetic Sword Control. This is... impossible..."
Thud.
The light vanished from the Sword Demon's eyes. His body collapsed like a doll with its strings cut, yet he never let go of the broken sword in his hand.
The end of a legendary swordsman and demon who had once dominated an era: his heart pierced by the broken half of his own beloved sword.
The Extreme Yin Qi is rampaging.
Yoo Jeong's eyes flew wide. However, he had not seen the Sword Demon swing his sword, nor had he witnessed him fall.
His mind was entirely consumed by the internal inspection of his body.
His rampaging true qi—specifically, a massive amount of Extreme Yin Qi—was wilding out of control. In response, the inner qi of his Cheongwang Muae Singong began to violently fluctuate.
This was the precursor to a terrifying phenomenon.
Qi Deviation!
Yoo Jeong's eyes trembled.
Two conflicting energies of Yin and Yang. This was the consequence of taking their harmony far too lightly.
Perhaps due to the secret technique, his cleared acupoints were barely managing to contain the frenzied energy, but this was only possible because Yoo Jeong was doing everything in his power to suppress it.
I can't go on like this.
The moment the rampaging energy grew any stronger or Yoo Jeong's concentration wavered, his small, delicate body would undoubtedly explode like a firecracker.
But at that very moment...
"Jeong-ah."
A small hand gently rested on Yoo Jeong's back. Hearing the voice, Yoo Jeong almost turned his head without realizing it.
"I will guide your qi, so find the flow and follow me."
As if to reassure him, a soft whisper echoed, and an incredibly familiar energy flowed into Yoo Jeong's body through her palm.
Feeling his master's inner energy taking the lead, just as she had when he first entered the path of martial arts as a child, Yoo Jeong slowly closed his eyes.
"Master."
A strangely familiar landscape. Standing at the edge of a lake, Yoo Jeong's gaze was fixed on a single spot.
Far in the distance, a woman holding a single sword slowly began to perform a sword dance. She stood at the very center of the lake—his master.
"Master? Where on earth are we?"
The last moment Yoo Jeong remembered was definitely West Lake. His master had been guiding his qi to save him from the brink of Qi Deviation. Her touch still felt vivid, as if her hand were still resting on his back.
Yet, his master seemed to have no intention of answering his questions. Instead, she threw a question back at him.
"Jeong-ah. Do you remember?"
"Pardon? Remember what?"
"The time you clenched your tiny, fern-like hands into fists and promised that you would resolve my lingering regrets."
Unfolding the Cheolgeom Sipsik—the foundational sword technique that anyone entering the Heavenly Sword lineage must learn—his master continued.
"You were such a cute and admirable little child back then."
"Master. I was actually quite grown up by then."
"Fufu. To my eyes, you have always been a little child."
"And you, Master, were..."
Yoo Jeong started to speak but quickly shut his mouth. His face flushed red with embarrassment.
But no matter how much his master teased him and made him blush, he couldn't very well tease her back by bringing up her amnesia.
Having finished the Ten Iron Sword Forms, his master began to transition into other sword forms, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips.
"Yes. You have suffered so much for my sake all this time. Thank you, Jeong-ah."
"It was only natural... Wait, Master? Do you remember? Everything? Your tantrums begging me to buy you hero tales, stealing the hidden sweets, and even tearing up the vegetable garden because you hated weeds?"
His master paused her sword dance for a moment. She gently shifted her stance, turning her back to Yoo Jeong.
"The regrets I harbored were never anything so grand."
"Master, are you changing the subject?"
"...As a child, I was frail and always confined to a tiny room. By the time I overcame my weakness, I had to devote all my strength to training."
"I was so envious of the other children my age."
At her bitter words, Yoo Jeong tightly shut his mouth.
From his master's sword, the Gwanghwa Pallyu began to shine one by one.
"Yes, even during my travels in the Murim. The name of the Heavenly Sword always followed me, and I had to move constantly to enact righteousness according to my master's dying wish."
I have no regrets.
In that instant, a memory from the past overlapped.
"But sometimes, I too wanted to go on ordinary adventures like other martial artists, build friendships... and love someone like any other woman."
Only regrets remain.
On the day Yoo Jeong first manifested sword qi, his master's quiet murmur had sounded incredibly lonely.
She was a master who always said that no story was trivial, that the life of a simple peasant or a third-class martial artist was precious in its own right.
Though she had walked a path more brilliant than anyone else's, she had still yearned for the small moments of daily life.
"That was why, Jeong-ah. That was why I took you as my disciple."
As she spoke, his master's sword pointed toward Yoo Jeong.
"If I had acted solely as the 'Sword Empress' who lived for righteousness and justice, I would have had to strike you down."
A sudden confession. Hearing this, Yoo Jeong's eyes shook violently.
Master... had to strike me down?
"But at that time, I was a little tired. I wondered if things like duty and destiny were truly heavier than the value of a human life. After much agonizing, I chose to take you and go into seclusion."
Slowly lowering her sword, his master faced Yoo Jeong with sorrowful eyes.
"My final regret... was you, Jeong-ah."
"...That you should have killed me..."
"Never!"
Speaking firmly, as if she couldn't bear to even imagine such a thing, his master looked up at the moon.
"You were my disciple, and my son... Or should I say daughter now?"
The Sword Empress cracked a joke to lighten the mood. But seeing Yoo Jeong's face, still frozen in shock, she smiled bitterly.
"I could not strike you down. Yet, I still feared what they call heavenly destiny."
The Three Swords of Cleaving Heaven—the ultimate secret of the Heavenly Sword—unfolded from the Sword Empress's hands.
"Because of that fear, I kept you close to my chest and confined you to Muo Valley."
Her sword swung with an earth-shattering momentum, as if it could shatter the very moon in the sky. What could a master of her caliber possibly fear? Yoo Jeong could not comprehend it.
"And yet..."
Just as Yoo Jeong had recalled the past, his master also retraced her memories.
The sword qi manifested by the child who had resolutely declared that he would shoulder his master's regrets was more beautiful than any star in the night sky. In that moment, the Sword Empress forgot her fear. No, she had realized something.
Just as the lonely Sword Empress, who had once roamed the Nine Provinces for justice and righteousness, had become a master and a mother because of Yoo Jeong... duty and destiny, too, ultimately depended on the person.
"I wanted to travel the Murim with you."
She had wanted to let him experience so many things, and teach him so much.
"I wanted to hear your story, when you eventually carved out a path of your own."
She had wanted to hear Yoo Jeong's own heroic tale, not someone else's.
"I wanted to see you surpass this master of yours..."
At some point, the momentum of the sword that split the heavens and shook the earth began to shift. Using the moonlight as paint, she drew a landscape across the night sky. From the stars above to the beautiful mountains and rivers. The Muo Valley they had lived in, and their small thatched cottage. The rabbits, the deer, and even a white butterfly.
What was contained in the Sword Empress's swing was neither the resolute banner of vanquishing demons and heretics, nor the dignity of an absolute master. It was something very small, and therefore, incredibly beautiful.
"Did you see?"
"Yes."
Without missing a single detail, Yoo Jeong etched everything into his eyes.
"I wanted to show you this sword."
But heaven had not permitted it. As if demanding a price for defying destiny, parting had approached them just like that.
"Enlightenment is not always a blessing, it seems."
"What do you mean by..."
"I never imagined that I, who am not even a Daoist, would experience ascension."
Yoo Jeong's eyes widened. Ascension? Could she possibly mean Ascension?
"The gates of heaven opened, but I could not go, Jeong-ah. There was still so much I wanted to do for you, so much I wanted to show you."
No matter how much she screamed, asking why it had to be now, nothing changed. And so, the Sword Empress made her choice.
"I sealed my divinity and forced myself to remain on this earth."
Having finished her sword dance, his master slowly walked across the lake toward Yoo Jeong. Concentric ripples spread out with her every step.
"Because of that, you had to suffer so much."
Stroking his silver hair, which looked exactly like her own, the Sword Empress embraced her disciple.
"Thank you, Jeong-ah."
"For caring so deeply for this foolish master."
"I am sorry, Jeong-ah."
"For bidding you such a sudden farewell."
At those words, Yoo Jeong struggled.
"Master, what are you saying?"
"I cannot maintain this state forever. Those who meet must part. It is time for me to go."
Releasing Yoo Jeong from her embrace, the Sword Empress took a step back.
"Do not be bound by destiny."
"Master!!!"
Yoo Jeong hurriedly threw himself into the lake, chasing after her. But he could not catch up to his master. He channeled his inner energy and utilized every movement technique, footwork, and lightness art he possessed, but his body only sank deeper and deeper beneath the surface of the lake.
Watching Yoo Jeong with sorrowful eyes, the Sword Empress continued.
"Please, walk your own path."
Thanks to her devoted disciple, she had washed away the regrets of her childhood. Though brief, she had made memories traveling the Murim with him, and she had even watched him make companions, however clumsy those bonds might be. At the very end, only one lingering regret remained.
"Jeong-ah, I wanted to see your own sword."
He was a child who had shown her such radiant sword qi. How beautiful would the tip of his sword be?
"I will... show you!"
The Sword Empress, who had been turning away while swallowing her regret, stopped. Floundering in the lake, barely able to piece his words together, Yoo Jeong screamed.
"I will definitely...! I will show you a sword... as beautiful as yours!"
Please watch me.
At those words, the Sword Empress laughed joyfully.
"I will be waiting."
Flash—
The moment he was completely submerged in the lake, Yoo Jeong snapped his eyes open.
The storm of inner qi that had been raging inside him had subsided before he knew it.
The Yang inner energy of the Cheongwang Muae Singong and the Extreme Yin Qi obtained through the secret technique lay quietly asleep in his dantian. Alongside them was an unidentified energy that perfectly harmonized the two.
Yet, Yoo Jeong was not surprised. He knew now what that warm energy was.
"Master."
Slowly turning around, Yoo Jeong saw a tiny girl sitting cross-legged behind him. A silver-haired girl dressed in Daoist robes. With her eyes closed, looking just like a doll, a satisfied smile was etched on her lips, as if she were sleeping and dreaming a wonderful dream.
Watching her, Yoo Jeong rose to his feet.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
Just as he had when they first formed their master-disciple bond and he had performed the formal bows of discipleship, he bowed three times to his master.
And that third bow... lasted for a very long time.