The True Prelude
The morning sun had barely risen. After a leisurely breakfast, Sa Cheonseong and his men headed for the training grounds in high spirits.
"How should we torment those Cheonun Sect brats today?"
"Heh heh. Just thinking about it gets me excited."
Sa Cheonseong led the way, with six 6-meridian experts — Deung Chung and Noe Bun among them — and roughly ten Cheonbong warriors trailing in his wake. It was more than enough to put Yeop Pung's group through hell.
Yeop Pung and his companions were already waiting at the training grounds. Thanks to three days of rest, most of the Cheonun disciples had been able to return to training. Even so, Mo Soo-mi's face was still deathly pale, Yo Yeong-chun's back was wrapped in layer upon layer of bandages, and even sycophants like Beom Undae and Baek Reung stood covered in bruises, their expressions grim.
Watching Sa Cheonseong's party swagger toward them in the distance, Wang Maeng clenched his fists. It's only been a week, and look at the state of everyone.
He had rested for three days, but the thought of the suffering still to come made his stomach turn. He cursed under his breath.
"Wang Maeng."
Yeop Pung's quiet whisper came from beside him.
"What?"
Wang Maeng turned to look at him.
"It's nothing. Just hold it in today. Don't pick a fight with those bastards."
"Huh?"
Wang Maeng stared at him, baffled. The Yeop Pung he knew had a temper like a wildfire — the kind of man who couldn't swallow an insult to save his life. Why was he the one doing the restraining today?
"Yeop Pung, you all right?"
"I'm fine."
Yeop Pung offered a smile Wang Maeng couldn't read and said nothing more.
What Yeop Pung didn't know was that Beom Undae, standing right beside them, had heard every word of that whisper. Huh? What's that bastard plotting this time?
By now, that particular smile of Yeop Pung's was enough to set Beom Undae on edge. He couldn't shake the fear that Yeop Pung was about to cause another disaster and drag him into it. But he had barely registered that something was off — and had no time to look closer — before Sa Cheonseong's party arrived.
"Enough of the chatter!"
The cold mockery and brutal training of Sa Cheonseong's crew began at once. At a flick of Sa Cheonseong's hand, Deung Chung stepped forward with the sly grin of a jackal.
"All right, you Cheonun 1st Unit maggots. You've had three days of rest, so your bones must be itching for it. Consider this a warm-up — strap on a three-thousand-jin boulder and run for a full hour!"
"You bastards!"
Every disciple ground their teeth and glared at the Cheonbong Army.
"What are you standing around for?!"
Deung Chung's smile vanished in an instant.
"Start running, now! You want another beating? Looking at you lot, you're just begging for a taste of the rod! I said MOVE!"
"Damn it!"
Wang Maeng wanted nothing more than to kill Deung Chung where he stood. He clenched his jaw, exchanged a glance with Yeop Pung, then grabbed a boulder and started running. The remaining hundred or so disciples hoisted their own stones with faces full of rage and threw themselves into the drill.
The week of savage training had clearly left its mark. Even Mo Soo-mi, the weakest of them all, managed to carry three thousand jin for a full hour this time. Only three people in the entire group gave up midway — a vast improvement over the week before.
"See that, you lot? That's the fruit of training! Commandant Sa thinks so highly of you — you ought to be grateful! Hahaha!"
Deung Chung and his men stood in the middle of the training grounds, jeering and laughing at the Cheonun disciples.
Grateful?
Every last one of them scoffed inwardly. You bastards should be thanking your ancestors.
Beside them, Beom Undae watched Yeop Pung's face with growing unease, hunting for even the slightest tell. But Yeop Pung was not so sloppy as to give anything away. Beom Undae's gaze drifted to Sa Cheonseong's party, lounging at ease beneath a great parasol. The elders haven't said a word, so maybe everything's fine? What the hell is going on?
Time crawled by. After more than three hours of brutal training, the session finally ended. Only ten Cheonun disciples were beaten today. The disciples' stamina had undeniably improved — but every ounce of that progress had been bought with blood and sweat.
They were exhausted, just about to leave the training grounds, when Sa Cheonseong rose slowly from his chair and looked at Yeop Pung.
"How'd you like today?"
Yeop Pung did not answer.
"Heh. I was in a good mood, so I went easy on you. Prepare yourselves. Starting tomorrow, the boulders go up to four thousand jin. Anyone who can't take it gets thirty strokes of the rod."
"What? Four thousand jin?!"
That was a death sentence. The disciples clenched their teeth and stared at Sa Cheonseong with eyes burning with fury. He couldn't have cared less. He waved them off.
"Get lost, all of you. See you tomorrow, you Cheonun Sect runts!"
"Hahahaha!"
The Cheonbong Army roared with laughter and strolled away at their leisure.
"Those bastards!"
Wang Maeng's fists were clenched so tight they shook. Yeop Pung clapped him on the shoulder and smiled.
"Don't worry. Everyone will get to rest tomorrow."
"What? How?"
Wang Maeng, who had no idea what Yeop Pung had been up to, headed back to his quarters with a bewildered look on his face.
Left alone, Yeop Pung watched Wang Maeng's retreating back with a meaningful smile. Then his eyes went cold as he followed Sa Cheonseong's party until they vanished from sight, and he murmured to himself.
Nowoon Peak was the most scenic of all the peaks on Mount Tianyun. Famous not only for the Nowoon Four Views but also for the open-air baths fed by natural hot springs, the place had once been a privilege of Cheonun Sect disciples. Now, of course, the Cheonbong Army had claimed it as their own.
Every afternoon, once training was over, Sa Cheonseong would take his men to the springs for a long, unhurried soak. While they bathed, they discussed how best to torment the Cheonun disciples the following day. It was, by any measure, a life of perfect ease.
The original disciples of Nowoon Peak, meanwhile, had been reduced to handing out towels and pouring tea. And their unfortunate Beom Undae had been personally appointed by Sa Cheonseong as his attendant. After every training session, Beom Undae had to wait on Sa Cheonseong's crew in the baths and serve them tea. It was a living hell.
Even now, Beom Undae stood holding a towel before a small pool that could fit about ten people. Inside, Sa Cheonseong, Deung Chung, and the rest were soaking at their leisure, chatting away. Every contemptuous word of it drove itself into Beom Undae's ears.
"Haha!"
Deung Chung laughed as he scooped steaming spring water over himself.
"Cheonseong, did you see Yeop Pung's face today? I swear, it did my heart good."
"Tell me about it!"
When the hulking Noe Bun stripped down, he looked like a hair-covered beast.
"That's what I'm saying. Four thousand jin is getting off easy. Tomorrow I'll take the rod to them myself. Heh heh!"
"Hahaha!"
Jo Bi burst out laughing in the bath, water droplets tracing the corners of his mouth.
"Me too! Especially that freak Mo Soo-mi! You should've seen him when we pulled his pants down — I still can't stop laughing just thinking about it! Haha!"
"Hahaha!"
Roaring laughter exploded through the bath, Sa Cheonseong at the head of it. It landed like slaps across Beom Undae's face. He kept his head down, teeth clenched. Those... those bastards!
Beom Undae was furious. How could he not be? He belonged to Nowoon Peak under Han Buri, but he still considered himself a man of the Cheonun Sect. He hated Yeop Pung — wanted him dead, even — but on Taibai Peak he had never done anything that would harm the sect itself.
The reason he fawned over the Cheonbong Army was simple: he knew resistance was useless. Even the Sect Master had been brought to heel by them. If he charged in blindly the way Yeop Pung did, he would only make things worse. All Beom Undae had wanted was to stay on Sa Cheonseong's good side and maybe, just maybe, take some of the edge off those hellish drills.
He understood now that he had been wrong. The men in front of him were not human. They were blood-starved beasts. They would wring every last drop from the Cheonun Sect, toss the empty husk on the ground, and grind it underfoot. They were not human at all.
"Hm? What's the matter?"
Sa Cheonseong seemed to have noticed something off about Beom Undae. He waded slowly through the water, leaned against the edge of the pool, and looked at him with a cold sneer.
"Beom Undae. Did my words offend you that much?"
"N-no, sir! I wouldn't dare!"
Beom Undae shook his head in a panic.
"Smile."
What?
Beom Undae lifted his head.
"I said smile."
Sa Cheonseong's voice was ice, his eyes full of mockery.
"Sir..."
Beom Undae forced the corners of his mouth upward, but no smile would come.
"What's this? Can't manage a laugh?"
Sa Cheonseong's expression began to harden. He was just about to rise, intending to treat everyone to a special entertainment to liven up their pleasant bath, when it happened. Beom Undae was trembling with fear, stealing glances at Sa Cheonseong's face and nothing else.
Only a moment ago Sa Cheonseong had been seething with rage. Then, without warning, his brow furrowed and his eyes flew wide. From beneath his submerged backside, a yellow jet of water shot upward with a sudden whoosh. Yellow ripples bloomed and spread through the once-clear, transparent bathwater.
What the hell is this?
Beom Undae was stunned. He stared at Sa Cheonseong in disbelief. The proud commandant of the Cheonbong Army... was having diarrhea in the bath.
