Challenge
“Yu Il-o?”
“Yeah, it's me.”
Of course, someone of Yu Il-o's rank would get a free pass through the door, even if I was in the middle of training. I hadn't forbidden anyone else from entering, after all.
But why was he here?
We weren't exactly close enough for casual drop-ins.
Besides, no matter how much of a wastrel Yu Il-o was reputed to be, he wasn't the type to flit around lightly.
Studying wasn't the only thing that required butt-in-seat endurance. Martial arts demanded it too. That was why martial artists went into secluded training without fail.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to read his intentions.
Yu Il-o whistled as he stared at the traces left by the Guardian Wall.
“Whew~! But seriously, what the hell kind of freakish combo is this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn't look like a sword strike, but you blasted it away with some weird iron plate. New training method? Intriguing. If there'd been even a hint of killing intent, I might've drawn my sword.”
“No need to worry about it.”
“Still, a swordsman ought to take good care of his hands.”
Yu Il-o pointed at my hand with his flask.
My swollen left hand had returned to normal, but blood was still pouring out.
The spot where I'd struck the Guardian Wall especially was so torn up that white bone peeked through.
I quickly pulled it away so no more blood would stain the wall, switching it to my right hand.
Honestly, if not for the adrenaline surge from the sudden situation—and Yu Il-o's unexpected arrival throwing me off—I'd be bawling my eyes out from the pain by now.
[Endure it.]
I'm already doing that.
But right now was the time to play it cool.
“If it's for training, this much is nothing.”
“Fair enough. Back in the day, that Hyeok Mun bastard used to run around the peaks of the Ten Thousand Great Mountains during lightning storms, bare-bodied, just to handle thunderbolt energy.”
……I'd heard about it, but I didn't know he did it bare-bodied.
“Foolish as it was, a martial artist has to endure that much to grow stronger. Besides.”
Yu Il-o pointed at his own head with the flask this time.
“My upper dantian’s been tingling like crazy. Pretty intriguing. Did you pull out a mental image without even realizing it? What the hell was it?”
Mental image, my ass.
I'd just barely lost control of my inner energy and nearly blown my hand off.
[Maybe you sensed the lingering energy of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.]
Yu Il-o said.
“How about we skip the booze and have a real go? You might even leave me with another scar.”
He'd said he killed everyone who'd ever scarred him, yet here he was grinning like an idiot.
The guy announced murder threats in the most refreshingly novel ways.
I hid my trembling hand behind my back and said,
“What's the sudden visit about, without even a heads-up?”
“You're no fun, man. Looks like you're not in the mood for a drink anyway. Straight to the point, then.”
Yu Il-o said.
“There was a gathering of the Beyond Heavens recently. Bunch of self-centered types, so only about half a dozen showed up, myself included.”
This neighborhood loved their cliquey little meetings, always faction this, rival that.
“And?”
“Unusual thing: Gu Jin-gyeong showed up at the meeting spot.”
“The Life-Death Judge?”
Life-Death Judge Gu Jin-gyeong was the Heavenly Demon's steward and secretary.
For him to appear publicly meant it was the Heavenly Demon's will.
“He issued a warning.”
“A warning? About what?”
“He went on for a while, but summing it up: don't get cocky.”
“What does that mean?”
“One of the Beyond Heavens slipped out of the cult without reporting or getting permission.”
“No way.”
Yu Il-o nodded.
“Guess hearing about Maeng Wi-hak got his blood pumping.”
“Can't even hold back for that?”
“Harsh on the hothead, but yeah.”
“Who was it?”
“Rank 9, Gong Ri-beon.”
[Gong Ri-beon. A master who wields the Dao.]
I knew the name. Because.
“He's from the Gong Ri Clan, wiped out by Maeng Wi-hak.”
“Right. Converted to our side about ten years ago after his clan was destroyed.”
The Gong Ri Clan hadn't been one of the Five Great Families, but it had long been treated as an upright prestigious house in the righteous faction of the murim world.
Its patriarch, Gong Ri-beon, had vied with the Dao King for supremacy in Dao arts and was called the murim's number one.
But the Gong Ri Clan was exterminated on charges of colluding with the cult.
Maeng Wi-hak had single-handedly slaughtered everyone except Gong Ri-beon, using that feat to prove his strength and claim the Alliance Leader position.
So naturally, he couldn't sit still hearing Maeng Wi-hak had shown up.
Revenge was the root of wuxia, after all.
“Naturally, there was backlash. The cult's foundation is strength supremacy, and proving yourself through combat is a given—against enemies or fellow cultists, doesn't matter.”
Besides, for elites like the Beyond Heavens, how many battles had they fought and won?
The cultists probably kept fighting just for that post-victory rush, the dopamine explosion.
“In response, Her Supremacy declared she'll accept any and all challenges.”
“Her Supremacy did?”
“She's never refused a challenge, but normally, challenging someone of the Heavenly Demon's stature requires tedious procedures. She's saying she'll ignore all that.”
Yu Il-o tapped his sword as he continued.
“So I'm on my way to throw down right now. Stopped by since you're a candidate for her consort, aren't you?”
Said it like he was heading out for a stroll, but challenging the Heavenly Demon was as good as declaring suicide.
“You might die.”
“Martial artists stake their lives on the blade's edge by nature.”
That was it. That mindset.
The one I wanted to learn.
Not "bail if it doesn't work out,"
but the will to charge ahead even if it wouldn't.
“……A fine resolve.”
My words made Yu Il-o's eyes widen.
“First time you've said anything nice to me!”
“Then get going.”
“Ouch. Such a firm send-off. Even Kwak Ri Yeon gets flustered around me.”
I snorted derisively.
Yu Il-o put on a wistful expression.
“Guess I'm really going, then?”
“Yes, go. Quickly. My retainers are baffled.”
“Fair point. But really?”
“Come back alive. Then maybe we'll share that drink.”
“In that case, I have to survive.”
Yu Il-o turned and waved as he left.
What a lightweight.
[No.]
Pa Cheon said.
[That guy. Even while talking, he kept watching to see if you'd draw your sword.]
……Was he thinking of using me as a warm-up before facing the Heavenly Demon?
Ever since Yu Il-o mentioned my habit of staring at my sword during conversations with Pa Cheon, I'd been consciously avoiding looking at it.
This place was full of vicious bastards who never let their guard down, not even for a second.
“Ow.”
I looked down at my hand.
Bone was visibly exposed—a serious wound.
[No big deal.]
By modern standards, sure—but even by cultist standards, it was minor.
For cultists, "serious" meant not just broken bones, but at least one limb severed.
[Circulate your qi to staunch the bleeding first. Even martial artists die from blood loss.]
The training ground was in chaos from the mysterious iron wall and Yu Il-o's arrival; family warriors were poking their heads in with grim faces, thinking it was an emergency.
I sent a transmission to the overreacting Tak Horak: no big deal, Yu Il-o's gone, back to your duties.
The gathered warriors dispersed.
I stared at my arm.
Just moments ago, guiding inner energy through my acupoints had unleashed overwhelming force. Enough to nearly shred my hand.
Now that the tension had eased, my wrist, elbow, and shoulder throbbed dully.
[Are you afraid to move your energy?]
Pa Cheon continued.
[It happens sometimes. After wielding qi beyond your limits, you fall into heart demons fearing it. But even so—]
“No. That's not it.”
I wasn't scared.
I was moved.
“Pa Cheon, even using the Guardian Wall, the fact that I produced that destructive power without relying on you... it's moving.”
[Fair enough.]
The distance from the training ground's center to the opposite wall was about fifty jang—roughly 150 meters.
The Guardian Wall's massive iron slab was at least ten meters wide, and it had plowed through everything in its path over that distance.
Truly monstrous destructive power.
And I'd done it alone.
Pride swelled in my chest. But Pa Cheon's reaction suggested there was a problem.
“What's the issue?”
[Two obvious ones for now.]
Pa Cheon continued.
[First, an attack this powerful is one-shot only. Your hand ends up like that after one use.]
“Wasn't it a minor injury?”
[One more and it'd be serious. Plus, from the look of it, your acupoints took a hit too. Can't use it repeatedly.]
“The other problem?”
[That attack looks mighty—and is mighty. But it doesn't solve your biggest issue.]
I nodded.
“It doesn't hit.”
[Exactly. It could kill a peak realm master in one hit, badly injure a super peak if it lands. If it lands.]
“Even with the Time Wheel Jade?”
[Prep time's too long.]
“So I just have to keep repeating until it's second nature.”
I focused the Heavenly Demon Divine Art's energy into my hand.
Not guiding it through acupoints like before, but moving the whole mass with my will.
The wound definitely started healing faster.
Normally, exposing bone meant no red salve could fix it.
Yet muscle and flesh visibly crept over it.
At this rate, it'd be good as new by morning.
[One key to mastering a technique is naming it. Makes it easier to select forms in battle.]
“Won't confuse it when fighting alongside you.”
[So, what's this technique's name?]
I pondered Pa Cheon's question.
But nothing better came to mind.
“Bung Kwon.”
[Crushing Fist. Not a bad name.]
Truth be told, it was just a certain game character's move, but explaining that to Pa Cheon would be a hassle.
[Training ends here for today.]
“What're you talking about.”
[Hm?]
“I told you. Protagonists need grit.”
I raised my right arm.
“Left hand healing? Right hand'll do till then.”
[Finally doing something I approve of, you demon.]
I chuckled.
And that day.
The Sado Ga training ground was once again sealed off due to another bizarre phenomenon.
Pretending to Be the Heavenly Demon