Destruction Flower of Seocheon (2)

The strongest constellation on the Korean Peninsula.

To be more precise—excluding Hwanung, the peninsula’s sole Mythical-grade constellation—who truly stood at the summit?

Opinions on the matter were endlessly divided.

Some named Ungnyeo from the ancient myths. Others pointed to Yi Sun-sin, guardian deity of the seas. Still others spoke of King Yama, lord of hell.

None of those claims were wrong. In pure power as constellations, each of them more than deserved a place among the absolute strongest.

But every one of them falls short in some way.

First, Ungnyeo. She never exercised influence over modern contractor society. From the distant age of myth until now, she formed contracts only with the clan that guarded the sacred city of Sinsi and the divine tree, never with outsiders. Her true strength therefore existed only in written records. That those records alone were enough to place her name among the candidates was impressive in itself—yet still incomplete.

Sara Doryeong, flower overseer of the Seocheon Flower Garden, was much the same. Save for a handful of contracts thousands of years ago, he had never taken a contractor at all.

And then Yi Sun-sin.

A powerful constellation, without question. The stories that had descended from Joseon had become myth and verse, elevating him into a constellation. A Legendary-grade constellation born after the age of myth had ended—that alone made him formidable. Yet outside the sea his power grew ambiguous. On the water he could display strength that ranked high even among Legendary constellations; on land, in close-quarters combat, his contractors received far more mixed evaluations.

And King Yama.

Lord of the Ten Kings who ruled hell. Among Legendary-grade constellations he stood without peer as master of the underworld—strong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enough that few among the Western Seventy-Two Demon Kings could match him. The problem was that his power diminished whenever it was directed at the righteous. In the end he was a judge. If the target’s sins were light or nonexistent, his strength inevitably waned.

There are other candidates, of course… but by my standards, Jacheongbi is the strongest.

Plenty of other names could be raised—Gangrim Doryeong, the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas, Pungbaek, Usa, Unsa. Yet at least by my measure, Jacheongbi surpassed them all. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠At least among the constellations that had appeared in the original novel.

The Seocheon Flower Garden possessed that kind of broken performance. The Bone-Fleshing Flower that regenerated bone. The Flesh-Fleshing Flower that restored the body. The Blood-Fleshing Flower that transfused blood. The Breath-Fleshing Flower that forced breath back into lungs that had stopped. The Soul-Fleshing Flower that called a departed soul home. And above them all—

The utterly broken Sura Destruction Flower.

A flower that could drown a person in madness or, by mere sight, instantly kill tens of thousands. In short, the balance was perfect: overwhelming healing and outstanding offensive power. In the original work she had commanded an enormous presence. The only real comparison would have been Bari-degi, who had also walked the Seocheon Flower Garden… but she never appeared in the original.

“First things first—introductions. I’m Jacheongbi.”

Jacheongbi, contractor of Jacheongbi. Whether because she was the contractor or because of fate itself, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she shared the exact same name as her constellation.

“And I’ll be the instructor teaching mana control for the first semester.”

Her introduction did not last long. Class began at once.

“Mana draws a single circle inside the body! Its speed should be like a river flowing!”

Jacheongbi watched the students move their mana. The gap in skill was enormous. Some guided it clumsily; others moved it with exquisite precision. Most of the students in this class belonged to the latter group. They shifted their mana with the ease of people who had received early education.

I don’t like it.

She disliked it intensely. If they were already this good, why bother coming to her class? They should have gone to some other productive lecture. What irritated her most was the knowledge that the majority had only enrolled to form a connection with her.

…Maybe becoming a professor was a mistake.

She had taken the post purely to raise children. Once she arrived, however, she discovered that most students valued a relationship with her far more than their own growth. She understood the reason. The contractor of Jacheongbi carried that kind of renown.

I came down for nothing.

Famous for sharing her constellation’s name, Jacheongbi was not merely a namesake. She was the Destruction Flower of Seocheon herself—the constellation always listed among the strongest candidates on the Korean Peninsula. Of course this was not her true body. Descending in her true form would have made her an enemy of the entire world the moment she arrived and would have left catastrophic damage in her wake. The body she wore was a flower incarnation she had crafted herself: bones formed from the Bone-Fleshing Flower, flesh regenerated by the Flesh-Fleshing Flower, blood filled by the Blood-Fleshing Flower. She had then poured her own soul—drawn out with the Soul-Fleshing Flower—into the vessel. The result was a complete human body, and the restrictions that came with it were severe. She could barely use any of her power as a constellation.

Her reason for descending was nothing special. Sitting still in the world of constellations simply did not suit her temperament.

I thought it would be fun. Turns out it’s boring.

She had expected that teaching young ones might at least be entertaining. Not a single student had proven rewarding to raise. Half of them had not even come to learn. What did a “connection” matter? She had never accepted a single one, yet every year strange people filled the seats without fail.

I should’ve just taught swordsmanship.

She had considered becoming a sword instructor and abandoned the idea almost at once. She had no deep knowledge of the blade, and since most of her power came from the flowers of the Seocheon Flower Garden, mana control was the only subject she could properly teach. Even so, sitting still and lecturing was not to her taste.

“….?”

That was when a student sitting alone in the corner of the lecture hall, quietly circulating mana, caught her eye. She did not know his name—she never bothered memorizing students’ names—but the way he moved was unusual enough to draw her attention.

He’s really bad at this.

Clumsy. He followed the form she had just demonstrated, yet the mana inside him looked ready to derail at any second. Quantity and quality of mana were not the problem; he simply did not know how to move it. The motion of someone who had only recently begun using mana at all.

Interesting.

She had never seen this type before. What she liked even more was that he was clearly trying to push further. That, above all, pleased her. Among every student she had observed so far, not one had truly come to this class seeking genuine improvement.

“You there.”

“…Yes?”

“Relax your strength. Make the mana thinner and slower. Right now it’s too fast, so it’s unstable.”

For the first time she taught someone of her own accord. For the first time she stepped forward and opened her mouth first. It was impulsive, yet she wanted to do it.

“Hah…”

Whether he understood her words or not, the boy’s mana stabilized. The rough flow settled into a single clean line and began to circulate with steady rhythm. That meant he had talent.

“From the crown of the head to the tips of the toes. Left to right. Reverse the direction and your blood will reverse with it—you’ll die, so be careful.”

Perhaps because of that, she guided the mana a little further. Was it fun? She could not quite call it fun, yet interest was definitely there.

“Mm…”

Watching him struggle yet still press forward, she felt—for the first time in the years since she had come to this world—a small sense of reward toward a disciple.

What.

No, seriously—what.

Jacheongbi had suddenly walked over, given me a few pieces of advice, and the moment I followed them a skill appeared.

Mana Control—the absolute foundation of every mana-control method. I never expected to obtain it on the very first day.

I thought I’d get it next class at the earliest.

I really never saw this coming.

All hail Jacheongbi! I had already thought it before, but now the conviction is ironclad. The strongest constellation on the Korean Peninsula is you. Absolute goat.

At that moment a message from the Heavenly Maiden arrived.

“Lady Hyeonnyeo, do you have a mana-control method?”

I had expected that answer. Gucheon Hyeonnyeo had either been born with perfect control or had awakened a method that fit only her own body. Her technique was not something I could learn.

I’ll look for one later.

Mana control was not the most urgent matter right now anyway. I already knew a reliable way to obtain a new control method, and simply having the Mana Control skill was enough for the moment. There were other things I needed to do first.

“Jinwoo! Over here.”

The tour of the Divine Circle had been scheduled for the very first day of the semester. I preferred to move as quickly as possible, and they had no reason to delay either. It was not as though I needed a detailed explanation—just a walk-through.

“Did the lecture go well?”

“Yeah, it was pretty interesting. How about yours?”

“Yes! Even though it was only theory today, I enjoyed it.”

Seong Harim’s class had been Understanding Healing Arts, the foundational lecture every healer had to take. She seemed thoroughly satisfied… though even if she had not been, she probably would not have said anything negative.

“Shall we start with the main building, then?”

“Let’s. The circle building is huge, by the way.”

“The Divine Circle is one of the Academy’s largest, so it receives massive support.”

We stood in front of the Divine Circle’s building. True to its status as a super-large circle, the entire structure was theirs alone—a church of considerable scale. Because of the circle’s unique nature, they had been given the whole building.

When we opened the doors a broad sanctuary stretched out before us. Classes had already ended, and it was the first day of the Academy, so almost no one was around.

“It feels old-fashioned.”

The interior was antique, completely out of place in the modern world. I rather liked the quiet dignity of it. It even felt a little wondrous.

As I looked around, something set into the far wall caught my eye.

A magnificent sword. The hilt and guard were adorned in white and gold, and a massive silver jewel blazed at the center. The blade itself was pure white, elegant and refined. Its only flaw was that the blade had been snapped clean in the middle.

Found it.

The holy relic Broken Holy Sword.

The object that would grant me a new skill was right in front of my eyes.