My Heart Hurts
My heart hurts. After classes ended without any particular incidents, I returned straight to the dormitory. It was to train for tomorrow and lay a small foundation for the future beyond that.
“Come, sit here.”
After changing clothes and washing my face, I found Cheonma already perched on the bed, patting the spot in front of her.
…Wait a second. She’s in ghost form—how is she physically interfering so easily?
When I stared at her, she planted her hands on her hips with absolute confidence.
“It’s karma.”
That damn karma again. Cheonma’s veiled way of saying don’t ask me to teach you grated on my nerves. It left me feeling so pathetic that I silently swore to grow stronger fast and learn about the stuff myself.
“Stop thinking nonsense and sit down. Turn your back to me.”
“…Yes.”
Right. Karma was important, but right now mastering the power I already possessed mattered more than chasing new strength. I sat with my back to her. A strange sound of admiration rose from behind me.
“Oh? Up close, your back is broader than I expected.”
“Is it?”
“Now I understand why you were striking poses in front of the bathroom mirror this morning—”
“Aaaack!! How do you even know that?! You didn’t come inside, did you?!”
“Ahem. You were taking so long that I was about to call you and happened to glance in. My mistake. Anyway, the method I personally devised to handle your overflowing talent is…”
Why is she changing the subject!
Still, the one who had to bow was me, not her. Even though I wanted to protest, I could only tremble with suppressed rage and listen to the rest of her words.
“…From now on you will pour every attribute into a single sword.”
“Is that even possible?”
“It will be. The fellow I knew mixed up to five attributes at once. Of course, you have far more attributes to contain and far greater talent, so the difficulty will rise exponentially. But yes, it is possible. Shall we begin?”
I immediately asked for the method. Cheonma twisted her lovely face dramatically and snapped.
“Do you want to blow up the room?”
She explained that training here could spiral out of control and damage not only my room but everything around it. The technique was that dangerous. Therefore we would carry it out inside the Soul’s Training Ground instead.
“What you will do there is practice the breathing method of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art along with several basic techniques.”
“Breathing method?”
“Since the art stores power in the heart, you need a special technique to expand its capacity.”
“And that’s the breathing method you just mentioned?”
“Correct. Simply breathe as you normally would. I will guide you from behind. It will feel similar to when you first learned the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, so don’t worry.”
“Um… will it hurt like last time?”
At my anxious question Cheonma let out a tiny “Pfft” and chuckled.
“Unless you feel pain from ordinary breathing, there will be none. Relax.”
That was reassuring. I gave a small nod, closed my eyes, and focused on the steady rhythm of inhale and exhale.
“Your breathing is growing disordered. I told you to breathe normally.”
Cheonma’s words made me think. How did I usually breathe? When I wasn’t paying attention it was perfectly ordinary, but the moment I became conscious of it, my breathing turned strangely different.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
No matter how many deep breaths I took to calm myself, the result was the same. My breathing refused to settle back into its natural rhythm.
“Master. For some reason I can’t breathe comfortably like before.”
“It’s because you’re tense. Be as relaxed as when you lie down to sleep. Close your eyes. Pretend you’re lying down to sleep. Breathe comfortably…”
Damn it, this still isn’t working?
When I remained unchanged, Cheonma let out a small sigh, grabbed my shoulder, and pulled me backward.
“It can’t be helped.”
Whoosh.
…Huh?
I collapsed backward and felt an impossibly soft sensation. When I opened my eyes I was greeted by fluffiness far softer than any mattress, almost like…
“Now sleep.”
“M-Master?”
Why was her face so close? And what was this hill that filled nearly half my vision…?
The situation was too mortifying to describe. Panicking, I tried to sit up.
“Ah-ah. Stay exactly as you are.”
“Gack.”
Of course her finger simply pressed against my forehead, making it impossible. Wait—more importantly, she had just touched my forehead directly? With her finger!
“Master?! Not only is my head resting on you, but you just touched my forehead…!”
“I told you to sleep. Why are you getting more worked up? There, there.”
“Don’t worry and just sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”
The gentle hand stroking my hair made my face burn. I’m sorry, but this is only making sleep harder.
Yet contrary to my thoughts, the longer her hand continued its soft rhythm, the farther my mind drifted, as though embarking on a distant journey.
“Hehe. Yes, sleep well.”
Hoo. What use is overflowing talent when the disciple is this soft?
Cheonma gently stroked the hair of her sleeping disciple, who was using her thigh as a pillow. To think her very first disciple would be this pliant. In her eyes he seemed even softer than the girl called Mir she had met that morning. At least that child had carried a strong venom inside her.
Yet in certain moments he is colder than anyone. He sometimes looks like a child who has never mingled with people, then suddenly makes judgments that surprise even me.
Just what is your true face?
What past did you live through? What happened that made you discover my grave and dig it up? And why, of all places, did you come to the Academy?
Crackle.Clank.
“Tsk. This much should be fine, shouldn’t it?”
Cheonma clicked her tongue at the blue shackles fastened around her ankle. How stingy—to impose restrictions this quickly. Did that mean she couldn’t even give her precious disciple a lap pillow? What was the point of overflowing karma? What did a vast total capacity or rapid recovery matter if even this small act triggered restraints?
Crackle.
This time a dull pain began to spread from the shackled ankle.
“I understand. I’ll finish quickly, so stop pestering me.”
She had wanted to savor the moment a little longer, but she moved her hand, promising herself the next opportunity. With movements as graceful as a brush painting across canvas, she slowly brought her finger to the left side of Zeon’s chest and gently drew forth the power of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
Crackle!!Clank. Clank. Clank.
“Tsk. I’ll have to hurry.”
The shackles now reached her wrist and even her neck. Cheonma frowned but did not stop circulating her energy.
Where is this place? Everything is dark. It feels similar to when I first entered the Ghost Lair. Of course, unlike then, the space isn’t filled with ghostly qi, so my movements aren’t particularly restricted.
Still, I can’t sense the Heavenly Demon Divine Art or any magic power at all.
It felt empty. The energy that had once filled my body was gone. I felt the same hollowness I had before learning the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. For now I decided to walk around.
Step. Step.
I’m definitely walking, but there’s nothing here. It’s driving me insane.
No matter how far I walked, there was no end in sight. Was I even moving properly?
[…ma.]
“Hm?”
Did I just hear something?
[…jima.]
It wasn’t my imagination. While walking through the pitch-black void I finally encountered a change. I stopped and listened carefully to the voice.
[Don’t forget.]
Flash——.
“Aack! My eyes!”
The sudden burst of light caught me completely off guard. I covered my eyes and screamed. Who just blasts light like that?! My eyes! My poor eyes!!
Ziiiing.
“What the—?!”
At the enormous sound I flinched and looked forward with recovered vision. There, like a giant movie projector, a massive beam projector was spinning. If it was running, that meant some kind of footage was playing behind me. I spun around at once.
“What the hell is this…”
The longer I watched the vicious montage, the stronger the sense of unease grew. The clothes, the sword—everything was painfully familiar. I realized these were all the deaths my game character Zeon had experienced.
The footage continued. And the moment the Sword God appeared, the trembling that had been a mere omen exploded. My body shook as if every suppressed terror had burst free at once. The fear of dying to her invaded not only my body but my mind.
[Don’t forget.]
Damn it, I might actually cry…
[The fear named death.]
Flash.
“Have you awakened?”
“…Master?”
What? A second ago I had been trapped in darkness watching myself die over and over. I looked up at Cheonma in a daze. She placed a worried hand on my forehead.
“Your condition is poor. There should have been no problems. If you feel pain anywhere, tell me at once.”
Pain? If I had to name it… Throb.
Just recalling the deaths made my chest ache. At the unexpected pain I clutched the spot. Cheonma’s eyes widened.
“Where does it hurt? If it’s your chest, perhaps the heart—”
“It hurts my heart.”
“What?”
I remembered. The way my body reacted to those images. The way my mind had nearly synchronized with them. And my own weak spirit that had almost surrendered to it. Really, it was just…
“My heart… hurts.”
At my serious tone Cheonma placed her hand on my forehead again and muttered briefly.
“…Is his head broken?”