Chapter 33
Another hour of meditation, but my stomach growled, shattering my focus. Grrrrowl~ glurp! Hunger is proof you're alive. I'm not a rock. I'm human. ...This cultivation method just doesn't suit me. But quitting? No way. I decided to learn it, so giving up isn't an option. It'll take years? Fine, I'll master it no matter what.
That said, sinking years into one technique isn't smart. My master's tales of all those other martial arts flood back. Every single one sounded amazing, fun—stuff I want to learn. ...A laugh bubbles up. Guess the meditation wasn't a total bust. My childhood dream sharpens into focus, one I'd forgotten: I want to learn more martial arts. Quanzhen Orthodox Inner Cultivation Method, Dog-Beating Stick Technique, Celestial North Dipper Formation, Empty Brightness Fist, Golden Goose Skill, Dual Hands Mutual Combat. All top-tier. But not enough. Far from enough. It barely scratches the itch.
Even if meditation calms the mind, I can't become some ascetic. I'm no pitiful beast chasing enlightenment. If I wanna laugh, I laugh. Cry? I cry. Want something? I take it. Honest about my greed, shameless to the core. That's me. Sima Mancheon.
I open my eyes, brush off the dust, and stand. The world's a treasure trove of techniques begging to be learned. A feast fit for a king. So much to devour. I'm not a kid anymore. Time's short. I don't wanna waste years on one art. Time for shortcuts. My own path.
"Hey, old man, pausing training for a sec. Got something to say."
Mukgang slowly opens just his eyes from his meditative pose, nodding like, spit it out.
"My master said everyone's got their own constitution."
"What're you getting at?"
"This method doesn't fit me. If there's no alternative, fine. But if there is, I wanna try everything."
Mukgang peers into my brazen face, demanding a new method like it's my right. ...Not slacking off, huh. No loser's excuse. Pure confidence he'll find another way.
"Straight talk: there's another path. But few accept the Bright King's energy this way."
He meant it as a warning—shortcuts are risky—but it backfires. My eyes sparkle. Secret method? Rare success? My heart races. Blood boils. Challenge accepted.
"Spill it. A genius who fools even heaven, Sima Mancheon, needs a custom fit. Tell me now."
"...Crashing headfirst and shattering is training too."
Judging persuasion's futile, Mukgang stands wordlessly and presses a fist to my gut. Black-red aura surges from his body. Thud? Why's terrifying energy pouring out? Instinct screams: something's wrong again. My doubts turn to certainty.
"Way to pack Bright King energy into your dantian fast? Smash it in directly with Immovable Bright King force."
His surging black-red aura swells, forming the giant guardian of the world: Immovable Bright King. Transparent armor reveals his form inside, mirroring his stance. Yeah—prepped to slam my gut.
"Warning: it'll hurt. A lot."
"W-wait—"
No debate. No mercy once declared. Love's iron fist for shortcut seekers. Immovable Bright King Punch.
"KiyeeeeEEK—!!"
No guard, straight hit. I shriek like a bird pierced in the chest, slicing air before crashing spread-eagled on the floor.
"Guh— guh— GAHK!"
Pain crushes thought. Just agony. Mind fogs—not sleepy, not pleasant. Breathing's heavy. Can't... breathe right. Am I even inhaling? Soul flees writhing flesh. Sinking endlessly. Down— down— grabbed by some colossal hand, dragged.
"Young cultivator. Meet the Bright King. Realize your frailty."
Despite the 'training,' Mukgang's cool farewell irks as consciousness fades. Total blackout.
‧ ‧ ‧
...Where am I? Awake? Eyes open to floating in unknown void. Darkness everywhere, yet ahead's clear. Like warm mud. Breathing's fine. Alone in endless dark, sinking slow. Wait—not alone. I just hadn't noticed.
From shadows, a massive figure wreathed in blazing flames glares down, face fierce. Instinct knows: this space's master. One of Esoteric Buddhism's Five Great Bright Kings. Seated at world's heart, burning evil: Immovable Bright King.
...Or pain from Mukgang's gut punch hallucinating. Either way, meeting him? Mystical. Studying the maybe-real/maybe-fake king, the world quakes like an earthquake.
[Say your name]
The Bright King's voice shakes reality. Just a question, but shockwaves rattle me. Ego crumbles. Like the little mermaid dissolving to foam, my body's components scatter into dark. His presence pulverizes my bloated self.
True purpose of this hidden Immovable Bright King Step training? Not meeting the king for energy. Humbling hot-blooded cultivators via colossal encounter.
"Ah—! Aaa—!"
N-name... gotta say it... but memory—! Gone!? Black out here, dissolve fully—I'll lose something vital. Cling to self desperately, but name escapes. Instinct gathers scattered droplets. That's me—holds my 'name,' my being. Must reform.
Opposite sinking body, reach for rising bubbles. Pop~ pop-pop! Incongruous sounds; stretched right hand bursts to droplets too. Left grabs frantically, but slips through fingers. Mind blurs. Instinct: lose consciousness here? No death. Just close eyes. But pride forbids. Who do you think I am?! I'm...!!
Body collapses, bubbles scatter. Memories fade. Who— am I—?
‧ ‧ ‧
How long? Don't even recall myself, but don't black out lingers. Force ego intact. Endless sink, eternal fight. Then, blurry vision spots 'something.' It swims fast, closing in.
...What? Snake? Dragon? ...Girl?
Being with clear, beautiful blue eyes like morning sea embraces me. Warmth regathers scattered drops. Mind clears a bit, but still blank. Who am I...? Who embraces me...?
One thing surfaces: must remember her. Even if world forgets, I can't. Her name—irreplaceable. Lock eyes with those staring solely at me. Beautiful. Pure. Even dissolving, sea-like eyes captivate; words slip.
"Gua... e... Guae."
...Remembered.
Burst right arm bubbles back, holds form. Yes! Not 'something'! Guae! Name I gave! Extend arm, hug her tight—painfully, till tremors stop. Share warmth. Regather drops. All mine anyway. Scattering? Absurd.
Gaze at sparkling droplets even in dark. Memories with Guae. Inside, she gazes at me, mouthing 'something' endlessly. Tiny lips whisper it.
[Say your name]
Bright King's world-shaking question echoes again. But I don't shake. Don't scatter. ...Already answered.
Mimic her lip-shape. Shout the 'something'.
"Mancheon."
Droplets whirl around me, reforming perfectly. Look around: Guae vanished like she appeared. Hallucination? Illusion in illusion—silly. No need lingering in gloom. Sunk enough; time to rise. Up— up— ascending.
Pause. Right before Bright King's face. No looking up—stare dead-on.
"Said say my name? Here it is. Listen up."
Inhale whole body. Explode it out.
"I'm none other than the genius who deceives even heaven—Sima Mancheon—!!"
[Name heard clearly]
"Hmph—phantom acting heavy... Begone, clown from my memories."
Sweep hand; massive energy clump shaped like Bright King scatters. His true nature: energy Mukgang punched into my dantian. I just psyched myself into thinking it was real. This space? Mine. Sink or rise? My call.
Yeomhwa's making Western dishes tonight. No time dawdling. Ignore crumbling clumps plummeting; rise. Light grows— brighter—
***
Mukgang frowns at collapsed Mancheon, unmoving even now. ...Weird. Should've woken ages ago.
His 'secret method'? For humbling arrogant talents. Most jolt awake seeing the Bright King energy mass. Nightmare-level, mild.
...No way he's qi-battling the 'fake' Bright King? Dangerous. Some realize illusion, absorb energy—rare few. Normals? Mind erodes to nothing.
Leave him? Might die. As Mukgang approaches to force-wake—air shifts. Around Mancheon. Heavy, sinking. Bright King energy roots in his dantian.
...He did it? Won? Taught it, but never expected success. Thought he'd quit midway. Heart pounds at unexpected new talent.
Mancheon's body twitches faintly. Builds— he stirs. Rises slow, dignified. Aura totally changed.
Mukgang's eyes widen.
-Critical moment. Feel Bright King energy strongest now. No hesitation.
"Lift foot—surge body energy simultaneous!"
No inner power, pure killing intent. Charges, fist cocked to kill.
"Crush in one step—halt the world!!"
No qi, but body honed to extreme. Hit spot matters—minimum, heavy wound. But Mancheon doesn't flee. No crouch. Boldly lifts left foot.
Wanting to test new power? Same. Dantian energy stabilizes. Slam down hard. Stamp earth with world-stopping resolve.
The step pins, unmovable.
Mukgang's heavy fist halts exactly before Mancheon's eyes. Not fear-stopped. Intended full strike. ...Yet stopped. Forced still. Instant—mere instant—but Mancheon's step pinned him.
For first time in ages, calm vanishes from Mukgang's face. Pure shock stares at Mancheon.
"I acknowledge you. Genius who deceives heaven? Spot on."