Half a Shichen

My entire body felt like it was about to shatter.

“Haa… haa…”

Darkness. A bamboo forest. Until moments ago it had been thick with conifers, but now bamboo rose on every side. I had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no idea how far I had come.

“Ugh…”

Even after three hundred days of training, I still had not fully mastered the Heaven and Earth Great Shift. The deeper I dug into this martial art, the more its limits refused to appear. Copying an incomplete form from the very beginning had only made it worse. It was the technique that gave me the greatest power—and exacted the greatest toll.

Host.

“I’m fine. Just… a little rest… and I’ll be better.”

I tried to steady my breathing.

“I’ll be fine.”

Namgung Sogyo, nestled against my chest, had been watching me with half-lidded eyes for some time. The child whispered from my arms.

“Uncle.”

“Haa… haa…”

My breath refused to settle.

Host.

“I already used up the body reconstruction during the fight? I know. I know.”

I gasped out the answer.

No. That is not what I—

“Uncle, who are you talking to? Let me in on it too.”

Namgung Sogyo asked in a calm voice. Still panting, I answered.

“Just… a ghost I can see sometimes.”

“A ghost?”

“Lately I’ve had a ghost friend. I talk to myself now and then.”

It was dark, so I had not noticed. The pain had blinded me to it. Her voice was far too calm—no longer the tearful, anxious tone from before.

“Is that so…? Then you won’t get bored. I was always bored.”

“Well, I’m not exactly bored… huh?”

It felt like a shard of ice had been driven straight down my throat. My words cut off. I looked down at the child in my arms.

It must have grazed her during the fight in the rapids earlier.

Her face was paper-white. A deep gash ran across her arm. Green liquid still seeping from the wound mixed with blood and trickled down.

“No.”

It is already too late. The poison has spread through her entire body. This child is going to die.

I lifted my head. Her eyes were open—but they no longer saw me.

“….”

I knew those eyes. I knew them far too well. They were the same eyes my mother had worn just before she died. Focused, wide open, yet empty—unable to recognize the person right in front of them.

“Ah… no…”

My heart felt ready to burst. The pain racking my body vanished. I collapsed onto the ground.

Mumyeong’s cold voice rang out.

Host. Pull yourself together.

My pupils shook violently.

“No!!”

I shoved myself upright and checked her pulse. It was fading—almost gone. Her wrist, wrapped in the swaddling that should have kept it warm, was colder than my own hand chilled by the winter wind.

“No, no, no! Mumyeong!!”

I cried out desperately, rubbing her hands and feet.

“Do something!”

There is nothing that can be done. Neither the environment nor the necessary means… exist here.

“I… I—! No, there has to be something. This can’t happen. It can’t. Fuck, say anything! Talk like you always do! Should I pour internal energy into her? Press her acupoints?!”

…

“You son of a bitch! Say something—anything! No, no! Kid!”

There was nothing. Just as there had been nothing when my mother froze to death. Absolute, crushing helplessness. My heart stopped.

“No, there’s still a way. Before, I definitely—like this! No, like this?! Was it like this?!”

I pressed on her chest the way I thought I had seen somewhere, trying desperately to keep her alive.

“H-how did it go… W-wait. No, no! What kind of idiot am I?! Never even learned basic medicine! Was it like this?!”

But my rough, calloused hands were so large and clumsy I could not even put real force into it for fear of crushing her small body.

“Damn it, damn it!”

My hands were too big, too stupid. I had to do something—yet all I could manage was this mindless rubbing of her limbs. I knew it was useless, and still it was all I could do.

Host…

“Fuck! Stop talking and do something! You’re from the Heavenly Demon Cult, aren’t you?! You were sealed right beside the Heavenly Demon—you must have some kind of edge! Please… no, please… Mumyeong, I’m sorry! Help me, so just…!”

Mumyeong spoke.

…I am sorry.

I pressed frantically on the child’s chest. Rubbed her ice-cold hands and feet. Her breathing grew fainter and fainter. Her skin turned blue. Her lips darkened. Her breath was stopping.

…

—Crack.

A white field spread before my eyes. This was no longer simply the death of a child I had spoken with. The nightmare of my past was repeating itself right in front of me.

That alone could not be allowed. Absolutely not.

Host.

Then—

Listen carefully. Do not panic. Do you remember what I told you in Yuk-bi-dong?

Mumyeong’s voice never rose or fell. It was always level. Yet now that same voice spoke with urgent speed.

Stop thinking. Focus only on the phenomena before your eyes and the reality of what you can do. Fear and emotion are useless. Stay calm. And listen to me.

“What?”

The poison flowing through the child’s body will stop her heart within half a shichen. And as far as I know, the Blood Sect’s application of poison is of the lowest grade.

The undergrowth shook. Like ropes tightening around a neck, Blood Sect members closed in from every direction.

—Sasa-sasak.

The alien sounds of their approach filled my ears.

If we can somehow get her to a skilled physician before her breath stops completely, there is a chance she will live. That is the most realistic judgment I can make right now. And it is the task we must accomplish.

The trembling stopped.

“A physician?”

The closest physician to us right now is, of course, one of the Namgung Family’s doctors attending the Musin Yeongneung festival. Their skill is more than enough to handle low-grade Blood Sect poison. However—

The forest filled with the clamor of weapons. In the distance, Blood Sect warriors poured down from the sky in dense ranks.

Even at a full sprint along the shortest route, Musin Yeongneung is a full shichen away. The Blood Sect will be on us the entire way. Breaking through that distance in half a shichen is, frankly, impossible.

“….”

Mumyeong was laying out impossible conditions. He was telling me to smash through the Blood Sect’s forces and cover a straight-line distance that normally took a full shichen—in half that time. It was suicide.

A heavenly net was closing. Even if I focused entirely on concealment and survival, my chances of living were slim. Yet he was presenting a plan that required me to reveal every scrap of my presence and sprint the whole way in half a shichen as the only option.

The choice is yours, Host.

It was a plan he would never normally have suggested.

“….”

I looked down at the dying child in my arms. Suddenly I murmured,

“Come to think of it, you still don’t know my name.”

I drew a deep breath.

“My name is Moyong Bi.”

I stood.

“There he is!”

“After him!”

The Blood Sect members’ snarls and the sounds of pursuit rose behind me.

“It won’t taste as good as your mother’s. But… but…! One thing I can do—”

Covered in mud, I leaned close to the dying child’s ear and whispered,

“I’ll finish making the fish bread I started back then.”

I would stake my life. If I died, I would die on the way. If my breath stopped, it would stop while I was still moving. If my legs were cut off, I would crawl on my arms. If my arms were gone, I would drag myself forward with my torso.

The plan is simple.

Mumyeong said. Sogyo was wrapped tightly against my front like a cocoon, secured firmly in place.

Time: half a shichen. Objective: Musin Yeongneung.

Even the shortest straight-line distance took a full shichen. I had to cover it in half that time. The problem was that the Blood Sect would throw their lives away to stop me every step of the way.

If I could just get inside Musin Yeongneung within half a shichen, everything would be solved. The Namgung Family was no minor sect—it was one of the Five Great Families that stood at the pinnacle of the martial world. And the Musin Yeongneung festival was one of their most important ancestral rites, honoring the family’s elders. Every martial artist of Namgung blood gathered for it; the saying went that no one should dare touch the Namgung Family while the festival was underway. Even the blood-mad fanatics of the Blood Sect would not be foolish enough to charge head-on into the full strength of the Namgung Family assembled for the rites.

I would pour everything into footwork alone and run that distance at absolute full power.

—Charrrk.

I laid out the weapons I had scavenged from fallen Blood Sect members. From them I selected only the daggers and throwing knives shorter than a handspan and secured them.

I could not afford a single real clash with the Blood Sect. Every collision would grind away precious time, and that would mean total failure.

I have to break through without meeting them head-on.

In real time, Sogyo’s breathing against my chest grew fainter. It felt exactly like watching my childhood self die.

I will never let her die… Absolutely not!

Following the surge of my emotions, internal energy boiled up from my dantian and raced along my meridians. The total internal energy currently available to me was nearly three gapja. Mumyeong had demanded almost two full gapja of it for this operation.

Internal energy?

Yes. I would prefer to use as little as possible, but no matter how I calculate it, a minimum of two gapja is required. Once combat begins, drawing more from you mid-fight will be difficult. That would create an opening, and then we die.

What exactly are you going to do with two gapja of internal energy?

Mumyeong answered briefly.

Maximum expansion of sensory perception. To succeed in this operation, we need more than simply reading a martial artist’s qi—we need to sense even the shape of every inanimate object. Minimum range: ten zhang.

What Mumyeong intended was to read every single ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠terrain feature within at least ten zhang—including every pebble.

Will you be all right?

I did not know Mumyeong well. But anyone could tell this was far from normal.

Of course I will not be all right. But—

After a brief pause, Mumyeong added,

Even then, our chances of survival are only fifty-fifty.

…Understood.

—Kwaaaak.

Something was sucked away with a violent sound, and my body suddenly grew heavy.

—Kiiiiing!!

Both of my eyes flooded with deep crimson. It was a red glow of an entirely different dimension from anything before. Red vapor seemed to rise and stream from them.

What we must do is run. Run with everything we have.

—Kwaaaak.

I clenched my fists so hard the bandages threatened to burst. I tightened the bindings on my ankles and wrists and sucked in a deep breath. White vapor from my mouth mixed with the red light pouring from my eyes and scattered into the winter air.

I recited four characters.

“Namsang Samadhi.”

Both eyes turned into blazing crimson demonic eyes as the Heavenly Demon’s authority manifested. Through those eyes, a martial art I had once copied rose before me accompanied by a sticky, dark voice.

I had copied the Blood Sect’s third-class technique, Hyeol-yeong-mu-hwan-sin-sul, yet I had never properly used it even once. It was infinitely unreliable. But there was no other way.

Hwan-yeong-dae-sin-bo had its limits. I had fought countless Blood Sect martial artists by adapting that basic Kongtong Sect footwork. When pushed to its extreme, Hwan-yeong-dae-sin-bo could edge slightly ahead of them, but it never possessed the power to truly break ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through. Even amplifying every ability with the Heaven and Earth Great Shift changed nothing.

But this technique stood a full tier above. Whenever I recalled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the terrifying footwork Baekho had displayed, a chill still ran down my spine. In a single instant he had vanished, shattered every Jongnam Sect dagger along a straight line, broken free of the encirclement, and even mocked them for good measure. I was certain it was never a mere third-class art. Just like Ssangryong-seonpung-geom, it had probably been copied at a lower grade because of my own insufficient skill; once fully mastered, its rank would rise.

I had no idea what variables awaited. I left everything to heaven.

I bent my legs. In the tension just before the sprint, every muscle in my body swelled taut.

“The moment I start running, my presence will sound like thunder to them.”

There is only one objective. Half a shichen. You must not exceed it. Enter Musin Yeongneung within half a shichen. And the path—

—Swaaaaa…

The forest trembled.

A frontal breakthrough of the Blood Sect’s heavenly net. Even in my era, such a thing never happened. Host.

Right now there was nothing, and the idea that a slaughter would erupt here felt unreal—yet one thing was unmistakably different.

“Do you remember what you said about fate back in Yuk-bi-dong?”

Of course.

No birdsong could be heard. That meant Blood Sect members were packed into hiding places everywhere, waiting only for the sound of my presence.

I drew a breath and whispered,

“A person lives only the life they themselves have drawn. Nothing more.”

And nothing less.

The moment I moved, they would swarm me like a pack of dogs. Still crouched, I said quietly,

“I’m ready, Mumyeong.”

I am ready as well. Then—

My hands and feet trembled. Every muscle in my body contracted to the point of bursting. In that taut air, Mumyeong spoke.

We begin.