Master and Me (2)
The word Master.
It was a term I had never once given thought to.
Normally, a master was someone of similar affinity with unique abilities or a distinct combat style who forged a master-disciple bond.
But because of that, I had no possibility of ever having a master.
My unique ability was Five Colors.
Five Colors allowed me to manipulate the mana of all five attributes, yet the meager amount of mana, the slow growth rate, and the low power rendered it utterly incapable of teaching me in any field.
The factor that had always tormented me the most was, of course, the quantity of mana that increased.
Even basic magic drained me to the point of exhaustion, and while others recovered their mana in one hour, I needed ten times as long—twenty hours—making even physical combat that relied on mana reinforcement a complete joke.
The only way I had strengthened myself before my regression was through one method.
Monster Stones.
The crystallized mana residing inside monsters’ bodies.
The mana inside them was so highly poisonous that ordinary people could not absorb it, so it was used to create weapons or magical tools.
Yet my unique ability—Five Colors—somehow purified the poison and permanently expanded my mana capacity.
From that point on I had steadily increased the total volume by gathering monster stones.
By overwhelming my opponents with sheer quantity of mana, I had overcome the limitations of quantity, growth rate, and power, allowing me to keep fighting.
Perhaps that was why, after that, the number of people who asked if I planned to take on a disciple increased.
I had never once entertained the thought.
I was simply too weak.
No matter how much I covered myself with mana, the people who approached me were all half-baked amateurs, and the only ones interested in me were those who wanted to use me to strengthen themselves by absorbing the stones.
So I had simply ignored the words of those who wanted me as a disciple.
From that day onward I had regarded “master” as the most meaningless word in my life.
And yet Beatrice had said she would become my master.
Honestly, if I had not been desperate, it would have been a lie.
Beatrice was a Celestial.
All Celestials possessed overwhelming strength and innate combat instinct, and Beatrice—having instantly recognized the true worth of my Five Colors—was an expert even among them.
Furthermore, the fact that she had once been called the Heavenly Demon meant she had trained for such a long time to master both martial arts and magic.
For someone like me, who had fought every possible style, she was the perfectly optimized master.
“Then, Beatrice, what exactly will you teach me?”
[Have you asked about the skills before confirming that I will become your master?]
“I just don’t have much time, that’s all.”
[Very well. The martial arts and magic I will teach you are those I once used.]
Swallowing hard.
The Heavenly Demon’s martial arts.
The martial arts of the man who had been the strongest in the world for so long made the throat twitch just from listening.
Many had claimed to inherit the Heavenly Demon’s martial arts, but those styles had been dismissed as mockery of the real thing by those who had actually seen it.
Now I would receive the true Heavenly Demon martial arts.
If I learned them, they would undoubtedly be a great help in achieving my revenge.
[But to learn my martial arts, you must first undergo preparation necessary for it.]
“Preparation? What kind of preparation?”
[Before I explain that, what thoughts arise when you see martial arts?]
The sudden question about how one should view martial arts made me recall every time I had seen them in the past.
“…Life. Every time I see martial arts, life comes to mind.”
[Why is that?]
“…Not everyone, but every time I see martial arts I feel that the person who created it had lived a life that was poured into them.”
[Correct. When martial arts are first created, the life and experiences of the person are literally fused into them.]
[Therefore, my martial arts require certain preparation for one to learn them.]
Beatrice, who had spoken of the need for preparation, explained to me the life that had been fused into her own martial arts.
[What kind of life do you think I lived after betraying my own kind—the Celestials?]
“…A painful life, I imagine.”
[Correct. The grief, revenge, rage, and despair of that era are deeply woven into my martial arts.]
Grief, revenge, rage, despair—emotions so dark that even the martial arts of the Heavenly Demon, who had been praised as the strongest in the world, felt heavy with them.
[Therefore, ordinary people who have lived ordinary lives cannot learn my martial arts.]
[Most of those who attempted it went mad from the dark emotions they could not endure.]
“...That’s why they called it demonic arts.”
The Heavenly Demon’s martial arts had been called the strongest in the world yet were also labeled demonic arts.
Everyone who received the Heavenly Demon’s martial arts had become strong, but they had all become madmen who savored battle and pain, which was why the name had stuck.
“Then tell me what kind of preparation is required to learn martial arts.”
[You are truly impatient.]
[When a woman tells you about her own painful experiences, it is best to comfort her.]
“What does that even mean? And I’m only a few years older than you—sorry.”
[Your tongue is the real problem.]
[Just be careful and it would be better.]
Once again the subject of age arose and Beatrice’s atmosphere turned as sharp as when she had met the old Celestial boy before his regression.
I quickly covered my mouth, and seeing my reaction Beatrice sighed and continued.
[To learn my martial arts you must first change your constitution.]
“Change my constitution?”
[You already know I am a Celestial.]
[Our bodies are different from ordinary people’s and require special preparation.]
[But the problem is the horrific pain that strikes during the change.]
[Most people lose their lives at this stage.]
I had indeed heard of it before.
When ordinary people learned elf or beastman techniques, the only way was to first alter their constitution.
For example, to learn the elves’ martial arts and archery, one had to switch to a constitution that absorbed nature’s mana more efficiently.
Beastmen required extreme training of their already superior senses.
Even for elves, whose bodies were almost identical to humans, it took at least ten years to change their constitution.
What would it be like for a Celestial?
Cheon-seong could not even imagine how much pain awaited him.
Humans love to explore the unknown, yet at the same time they fear the unknown they cannot grasp.
The inability to know what something is awakened a deep fear buried in the instincts of every human—and Cheon-seong was no different.
Still, Cheon-seong’s only answer was the same.
“If I can only become stronger, I don’t care about the pain.”
“And if pain had driven me to retreat, I wouldn’t have fought in the first place.”
[You already know that much.]
[Sit in lotus posture on the floor.]
Following Beatrice’s words, Cheon-seong sat in lotus posture on the floor.
Beatrice placed her small hand on Cheon-seong’s back, right above the heart, and spoke.
[If you are ready, we will begin.]
“...I’m ready. Begin.”
Cheon-seong took a deep breath, and the moment he finished speaking, a jet-black aura erupted from Beatrice.
[Hold your mind tight.]
[If you loosen it even for a moment, you will die.]
The black power flowing out grew larger and larger, filling the entire room until Cheon-seong’s pain finally began.
“Khhuk...!”
It hurt.
A pain like a needle dipped in venom pierced through every nerve in his body.
“Kuaaaaah!”
In the end he could not hold back his scream, and the pain swelled until it felt as if a spike had been driven through his entire body, freezing blood and flesh and burning them from the inside.
Yet the pain was far from over.
While Cheon-seong endured, he could not help but think.
Just... give up...
It was too painful.
He was going mad from the pain.
Whenever he tried to adapt, the pain kept growing, as if to say it was not the end, and the word “give up” filled his mind again and again.
But one single sentence continued to whisper in Cheon-seong’s mind, preventing him from giving up.
I’m sorry... Cheon-seong. And I truly love you.
Yuna had died because of me.
During the fierce war with the Celestials, I had been careless and nearly died to monsters.
Yuna had taken my place and been captured, enduring humiliation until her last breath.
The last words she had spoken to me before she was taken.
Those words had continued to echo in his mind, becoming the fuel that kept him from giving up.
And they still did.
I will never... never give up... This life... I will protect everyone I hold dear...
Cheon-seong kept reminding himself of the reason he had regressed and endured the pain that had grown far worse than before.
The painful time ended five hours later.
“You have worked hard. It is finished.”
With Beatrice’s words of “finished,” Cheon-seong’s body tilted forward.
He had not died.
He had simply poured every ounce of his mind into enduring the pain, so when it ended he had reached the limit of his mental strength and collapsed.
Even after five hours, the groans of agony still leaked from his throat, leaving him unable to speak.
Using the last of his strength, he turned his body and leaned his back against the floor.
Looking up at Beatrice with eyes full of pain, he saw a gaze that seemed to ask if he had succeeded.
Beatrice nodded proudly and smiled.
[Success.]
[You truly endured well.]
With those words Cheon-seong finally lost consciousness.
Beatrice watched him and, with a satisfied smile, grew larger, then knelt beside him and placed her hand on his head.
Swish
Beatrice gently placed Cheon-seong’s sweat-soaked head on her lap, combed through his wet hair, and stroked his forehead.
Looking down at the sleeping Cheon-seong, she whispered the words she could not say out loud.
[Now we begin again.]
[Thank you for enduring, Cheon-seong.]
Thank you for becoming my disciple once more.
With that, Cheon-seong smiled in satisfaction and fell into a peaceful sleep for the first time in a long time.
Beatrice remained kneeling, stroking his forehead with great care until the sun rose.