Chapter 2
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Taking Up the Sword (1)
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The sword Cheon Muryang swung was, in a word, pathetic.
“Heh heh!”
A small laugh was heard.
It wasn't overt, but faint snickers could be heard from every corner of the training grounds.
“Hah, hah!”
Moreover, after just a few swings, Cheon Muryang was breathing heavily.
Seeing this, most of the trainees practicing on the grounds either laughed quietly or reacted with a cold, “I knew it.”
Though he was well aware of this, Cheon Muryang didn't react.
It was an undeniable fact that his form was pathetic enough to invite ridicule.
‘My stamina is a complete mess.’
It wasn't just his insides that were ruined by the excessive elixirs.
The excess fat he had gained as a result couldn't be described as 'hearty' even in the kindest terms.
“Tsk.”
Cheon Muryang clicked his tongue out of habit.
How pathetic was this?
This body wasn't even fit to swing a sword.
He felt like laughing at himself.
“It seems… getting my body in shape is the most urgent task.”
Before he could even think about taming the elixirs with his internal energy, he needed to build up his physical stamina.
Fortunately, he had brought a change of clothes—a stroke of foresight.
“Shall I start running?”
Cheon Muryang put down his sword.
It wasn't time yet.
*Woong!*
Though the Heavenly Light Sword cried out.
What could he do?
There was a proper order to all things.
“Hoo…”
After catching his breath, Cheon Muryang began to run around the training grounds.
To others, he looked like nothing more than a pig with its bloated flesh jiggling.
No one dared to laugh out loud, but their gazes were filled with scorn.
Yet, Cheon Muryang paid them no mind.
‘I just need to walk my own path.’
If he couldn't overcome this much, he wouldn't be able to accomplish anything.
Cheon Muryang exhaled as he ran.
Of the internal energy filling his body, he drew up only what he could control.
“Ugh…”
Even with just that, he felt a pain like his flesh was burning.
Still, Cheon Muryang gritted his teeth and ran, circulating his internal energy.
His heart felt like it would explode, but at some point, his breathing began to stabilize.
“Hah, hah!”
His breaths came at a steady rhythm.
He was still slow and his form unsightly, but he never stopped.
“Heh heh!”
Some were still laughing.
Before long, their laughter died down as well.
“He’s… still at it?”
Even after they had eaten.
Even after their training had ended.
Cheon Muryang was still running.
“Hah, hah!”
His pace wasn't fast.
His flesh still jiggled.
But he never stopped.
Not even for a single moment.
And so, a few of them began to whisper.
“Just how long does he plan to run?”
“Hmph. It'll be a three-day wonder at best. What guarantee is there that he'll do this again tomorrow just because he's doing it today?”
“Is… is that so?”
Most of them believed it wouldn't even last a full day.
Since anyone could do it for a day, they lost interest completely.
‘That’s better, actually.’
Cheon Muryang preferred indifference to the excessive attention.
How long had he been running?
“Gasp, gasp!”
Breathing raggedly, Cheon Muryang collapsed onto the training grounds, spreading his limbs.
His clothes, which had been fresh that morning, were now drenched in sweat.
*Whoosh!*
The cold night air felt nothing but refreshing.
“This feels good.”
“Y-Young Lord…! A-Are you alright?”
Woryeong rushed to his side.
She wiped his sweat-drenched face with a towel.
“Feels like I’m about to die.”
“You skipped your meals and pushed yourself too hard!”
“I already know what it tastes like. One day is fine.”
Saying so, Cheon Muryang forced himself to get up.
“Just one last lap.”
“What? You’re going to run again?”
“I have a goal I set for myself. I have to finish it.”
“Ah?”
Woryeong didn't know, but Cheon Muryang had decided to run exactly one hundred laps.
He had just completed ninety-nine, so one last lap remained.
“Here I go.”
Cheon Muryang dragged his legs, which barely moved anymore, and forced himself to run.
Woryeong’s eyes trembled endlessly as she watched him.
‘Is this really the Young Lord I knew?’
She had served him for a long time.
No one in the Cheon Family knew Cheon Muryang better than Woryeong.
‘What on earth happened…?’
Even she was confused.
‘Still…’
Cheon Muryang, running with a waddle.
For some reason, that sight…
It was like seeing the Cheon Muryang of his childhood, before he had turned so violent.
‘I’m so relieved, Young Lord.’
Woryeong knew.
She knew the Cheon Muryang from before he became a scoundrel.
She didn't know when he might revert to his old ways, but she wanted to believe in him.
“You can do it.”
Cheon Muryang finally completed the last lap.
“Woryeong, help me up.”
“Yes, yes! Lean on me.”
Seeing Woryeong’s somewhat brightened expression, Cheon Muryang asked.
“Did something good happen?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Hmm…”
Woryeong was surprisingly strong.
She was able to easily support Cheon Muryang’s massive body as he leaned on her.
“Let’s go quickly.”
“Yes. But, Young Lord.”
“What is it?”
“Will you be running at the training grounds tomorrow as well?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. I’ll be ready!”
“I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?”
“Ah, would you like the stir-fried mushrooms from yesterday?”
“Yes. That sounds good.”
“Should I… prepare some wine as well?”
“No. No wine. I won’t be drinking anymore, so you don’t have to prepare it from now on.”
“You really mean it?”
“Yes. A man’s word is his bond! I don’t go back on what I say.”
“Yes, yes. I know.”
“Let’s go.”
“Yes.”
After the two left, the training grounds were empty.
But a chilling gaze swept over the spot on the ground where Cheon Muryang had collapsed after his final lap.
* * *
After finally returning to his room with Woryeong’s help, Cheon Muryang sat cross-legged on his bed.
“Hmm…”
He was so stiff.
Even though it was a posture he had held his entire life, it felt uncomfortable.
‘I have to endure it.’
The first day is always the hardest, isn't it?
Cheon Muryang began cultivating the Heavenly Yang Divine Art, which any martial artist of the Cheon Family could learn.
‘I’ll have to be satisfied with a basic art for now.’
It would be great if he could learn a more advanced martial art from the Heavenly Dragon Archive, but for now, he had no other options.
He intended to dissolve the elixir energy that filled his body.
‘The resistance… is stronger than I thought.’
However, because he possessed so little internal energy of his own, he couldn't control the different elixir energies.
‘These are energies of completely different natures.’
The elixirs were largely divided into two types.
One of yin energy, and one of yang energy.
The two energies maintained a strange balance, seemingly not encroaching on each other’s territory.
‘This won’t be easy.’
There was a right time for everything.
After consuming an elixir, one had to focus on making its energy their own.
Having missed that opportune time, the elixir energies had settled into Cheon Muryang’s body as they were.
‘Well, this is just the beginning. I can’t expect to be full from the first bite.’
He sensed a presence.
It must be Woryeong, bringing water for him to wash with.
Cheon Muryang settled his internal energy.
“Hoo…”
*Flash!*
Cheon Muryang opened his eyes.
They were distinctly different from the perpetually hazy, alcohol-soaked eyes he used to have.
“Young Lord, here is your water.”
“Right. Thank you.”
Woryeong had brought more than just water.
She had also brought the stir-fried mushrooms whose taste he had been so curious about.
“Well, shall I have a bite?”
“You should wash up first!”
“Ah, right.”
The stir-fried mushrooms had a very healthy taste.
* * *
A month passed.
In that time, Cheon Muryang ran at the training grounds without skipping a single day.
That wasn't all.
At some point, he added strength training to his runs.
His training regimen was grueling.
“Hey, he showed up again today.”
“Tch. But it’s raining today.”
“Whatever, just hand it over.”
And so, an unofficial betting pool had formed among the trainees over Cheon Muryang’s training.
Seeing Cheon Muryang arrive at the training grounds even on a rainy day, a few of them gathered to exchange money.
“You lost again, Neung Ryeoun.”
“Damn it.”
“Hurry up and pay.”
“Why is he being so annoying?”
“You crazy bastard, keep it down.”
“Shh!”
As Neung Ryeoun raised his voice, the others quickly shushed him.
No matter what, Cheon Muryang was still the Great Young Lord.
If they were caught betting on him, they could face serious consequences.
“Tch! Let him hear me!”
“Stop it. What are you going to do?”
“I’m not going to do anything, it’s just pathetic. Acting like he’s training now.”
“That’s true. If he wasn't the Great Young Lord of the Cheon Family, he would’ve been kicked out long ago.”
To the trainees who aspired to become warriors of the Cheon Family, Cheon Muryang’s existence was the epitome of privilege.
『A good-for-nothing who lives in luxury because of his noble blood.』
That was how they saw Cheon Muryang.
Therefore, they felt not an ounce of loyalty towards Cheon Muryang, even if he was to become the future Family Head.
The core of the Cheon Family was the current Family Head, Cheon Wigang, the commander of the Heavenly Dragon and Heavenly Phoenix Sword Corps, Cheon Seonhak, and the Grand Elder, Cheon Jungho.
In other words, the respect of most trainees was directed towards those three, never towards Cheon Muryang.
So, naturally, there was no reason for them to look favorably upon the infamous scoundrel, Cheon Muryang.
“Even if he’s like that, he gets to learn the Cheon Family’s ultimate techniques freely. It’s so damn unfair.”
“Quiet! He might hear you!”
The scoundrel, Cheon Muryang, who could learn the family's ultimate techniques at any time.
Wasn't it only because of his direct bloodline that he was given this opportunity?
The trainees were in a position where they could never like Cheon Muryang.
“Who cares? Whether the Great Young Lord has come to his senses or not, all we have to do is learn martial arts and get paid, right?”
“That’s true, but…”
It was a purely financial relationship.
The Cheon Family provided money and martial arts, and in return, the trainees became members of the Cheon Family.
“Even if that scoundrel becomes the Family Head, he won’t have any real power.”
“What?”
“Think about it. There's the Council of Elders, and more importantly, do you think Commander Cheon Seonhak would ever follow the Great Young Lord’s orders?”
“Ah, that’s true.”
What they said was correct.
The structure of the Cheon Family was quite unusual; the Family Head's authority wasn't particularly strong.
Everyone respected the current Family Head, Cheon Wigang, but his power wasn't absolute.
Because of this atypical structure, the trainees were also divided into two factions.
They would either become members of the martial faction led by Cheon Seonhak, or they would join the Council of Elders.
“And honestly, even if the Great Young Lord becomes the Family Head, how could he carelessly dismiss us?”
“Hey, Neung Ryeoun. Aren’t you going a bit too far?”
“Let’s be honest. Does the Cheon Family of today look like the Cheon Family of old?”
The Cheon Family was once counted among the Ten Great Families of the world, but even that was just a shadow of its former glory.
In the competition against countless rising families and factions, the Cheon Family was gradually losing its edge.
“He can’t get rid of us.”
“That’s enough. Stop throwing a tantrum just because you lost a bet, Neung Ryeoun.”
“Tch.”
“The bet’s over, let’s go.”
The betting was over.
Those who won money left the training grounds, laughing gleefully.
Left alone, Neung Ryeoun kicked a stone on the ground, still fuming.
“Ah, this is so frustrating.”
He always lost the bets, but today, the sight of Cheon Muryang running was particularly galling.
He wanted to laugh at Cheon Muryang’s efforts, at him running silently through the rain, wondering if he even knew he was the subject of their bets.
“Tch. What’s going to change just because a pig runs like that?”
So, Neung Ryeoun said it loud enough to be heard.
He was hoping Cheon Muryang would hear him and throw a fit.
“Gasp, gasp!”
He must have heard, but Cheon Muryang showed no reaction.
Watching Cheon Muryang run silently, Neung Ryeoun felt strangely annoyed and spat harshly.
“Ptui!”
Just as he was about to leave the training grounds.
Someone stood before Neung Ryeoun.
It was a woman with cold eyes.
“Huh?”
“Take back what you just said.”
“What did you say?”
“Take back the insult you directed at the Young Lord.”
Neung Ryeoun was dumbfounded.
Since when did a mere servant girl demand an apology?
“Hey, Neung Ryeoun. Are you coming or not?”
“Let’s just go. Looks like he’s busy. Heh heh heh.”
Seeing him with the servant girl, they teased Neung Ryeoun in a strange way.
Was it because of their stares?
*Flush!*
Neung Ryeoun’s face grew hot.
And so, he impulsively drew his sword.
*Shing!*
Even as trainees, the Cheon Family provided them with real swords.
Thus, Neung Ryeoun’s sword glinted with a sharpness capable of killing.
“What did you just say? Say it again.”
But Woryeong was not afraid.
Instead, with her eyes glaring, she retorted clearly.
“I said, do not insult the Young Lord, who is working so hard.”
“Y-You…!”
Enraged, Neung Ryeoun swung his sword.
He didn't intend to kill her.
He just wanted to scare her.
He thought she would tremble in fear if he just brought the blade to her neck.
However, things didn't go as Neung Ryeoun expected.
*Clang!*
A sharp sound rang out.
“Huk!”
Neung Ryeoun’s sword was knocked back.
*Kang!*
*Kadeudeuk.*
No, the impact was so strong that he dropped his sword entirely.
Neung Ryeoun couldn't understand the situation.
‘What just happened?’
His confusion was brief.
*Flinch!*
A chilling presence enveloped Neung Ryeoun.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
A cold voice.
Its owner was Cheon Muryang, who had been running around the training grounds just moments ago.
“N-No…”
He was soaked to the bone, with raindrops still dripping from him.
*Stumble.*
Neung Ryeoun instinctively took a step back.
“Pick up your sword.”
“…?”
“If you have something to say to Woryeong, say it to me. With your sword.”
“Are you challenging me to a duel?”
“A duel…”
Cheon Muryang scoffed at Neung Ryeoun.
“What if I said it was a duel to the death?”
“…!”
“Pick up your sword.”
“Depending on the outcome, this incident will be…”
“If you win, I will not make an issue of this. I will also never show myself at these training grounds again. Is that enough?”
“Y-Young Lord!”
Woryeong, flustered, tried to stop Cheon Muryang.
She knew that although he had been running and doing strength training for the past month, he hadn't held a sword even once.
But Woryeong realized.
There was no stopping him.
“I will tolerate insults against myself.”
But.
“I will not tolerate insults against those who care for me.”
That was.
The creed of Cheon Muryang, the Great Young Lord of the Cheon Family, who was once Nameless in a past life.
“Draw your sword, Neung Ryeoun.”
“…!”