Preparation (2)
For the first time in a long while, Cheonhwa made his way to the Sinking Heavy Water Training Ground.
He had come to ask the Sinking Heavy Water Tree whether the ruined Okgyeong could be repaired—yet one problem stood in his way.
Can I even reach the depths where the tree resides in my current state?
Entry into the training ground’s innermost sanctum was permitted only to those who met its stringent conditions. By mastering a higher-level mental cultivation method, Cheonhwa had forfeited that right.
If the Sinking Heavy Water Tree opens the path itself, there might still be a chance.
The barrier sealing the depths had been woven from the tree’s own power. With its leave, he could enter regardless of the usual requirements. Whether he gained access, then, rested entirely on the tree’s will.
Will it even let me in?
He could not be certain. Even an ordinary visit might have been refused; now that he had shattered the very branch it had gifted him, he half expected to be driven out in anger.
Still… I have to try.
Okgyeong had been his constant companion for years. He was not ready to abandon it so easily. At the very least, he wanted the tree itself to confirm whether recovery was truly impossible.
Steeling himself, Cheonhwa stepped into the Sinking Heavy Water Training Ground. The place greeted him exactly as it had before. Without delay he waded into the pool. Years of unbroken training had not been wasted; even as he reached the threshold of the depths, he endured the crushing pressure with little difficulty.
Standing before the boundary, he addressed the tree.
“I have come to mend the branch. Will you open the way for me?”
The interior of the Sinking Heavy Water was the tree’s domain; words spoken here would surely reach it. A moment later a portion of the swirling darkness parted, and a voice sounded directly in his mind.
Enter.
Relief washed through him. The tree had not refused. Passing through the opened darkness, he entered the sanctum and found the Sinking Heavy Water Tree waiting, as vital and green as ever.
“It has been some time.”
Indeed. In so short a span you seem to have undergone many changes.
Five years had passed since he received the branch, yet the tree spoke as though the interval were nothing. To a spirit that had lived for centuries, five years were scarcely a blink.
And the traces left upon my fragment… I can tell you have come through a life-and-death struggle.
“I am sorry. My skill was lacking, and the branch was broken.”
Did the wooden sword protect your life?
“Yes.”
Then it has already fulfilled its purpose. I will accept no apology.
The tree did not reproach him for the damage. All things under heaven were born, flourished, and declined in turn. What mattered for any tool was how faithfully it served the end for which it had been made. If a sword fashioned from a branch had stood with its master to the last, that was enough. The answer carried the profound insight of a spirit that had watched the world for ages.
You said you wished to save the branch?
“Yes. Is it possible?”
The tree fell silent for a time, as though examining Okgyeong with care.
A deep water qi lingers within the wooden sword—and within you as well, a water qi that was not present before. If we make use of both, it can be done.
Cheonhwa’s face brightened. Who would have guessed that the residual Intent Qi Manifestation of the Ice Crystal would prove useful in this way?
“What must I do?”
Simply do as I instruct.
Following the tree’s guidance, Cheonhwa approached, leaned his back against its trunk, settled into a lotus seat, and laid Okgyeong across his thighs. The Sinking Heavy Water Tree began to guide the surrounding energies.
The remnant of Intent Qi Manifestation still clinging to the tree; the Hyeoncheon-jingi that Cheonhwa now possessed; the abundant water qi of the Sinking Heavy Water itself—three distinct water energies intertwined and began to stimulate the broken sword.
The principle of Water giving birth to Wood. The pure essence of water qi drawn forth by the spirit tree nourished the wood qi that formed Okgyeong. Miraculously, new flesh began to sprout across the blade scarred by burns and gashes. An ordinary branch cut from a tree would have long since lost its life, yet this fragment, born of a spirit, retained a miracle of its own. Before long Okgyeong had regained its former shape. The newly grown wood was paler than the rest, leaving an unintended pattern across the blade like the stripes of a tiger’s hide.
When the repair was complete, Cheonhwa opened his eyes and studied the sword.
It’s sturdier than before.
Having drunk deeply of water qi to heal its wounds, Okgyeong had become more resilient, as though determined to repay every insult it had suffered. The dense water qi now within it would allow it to withstand even fierce flame.
The repair is finished.
“Thank you for your trouble.”
While mending it I learned something: you stand on the verge of a great leap.
“You know of the wall that bars the Peak?”
Of course.
“If you would, I would value your counsel. The wall leaves me at a loss in many ways.”
Explain it to me in detail.
Cheonhwa told the tree everything he knew of the Peak wall and the question-and-answer that must take place before it. When he finished, the Sinking Heavy Water Tree spoke.
First you must correct your understanding. What, exactly, is this wall of which you speak?
“What? That is…”
He could not answer at once. He had simply thought of it as the barrier that blocked the next realm; he did not truly know what the wall itself was.
A wall is only a metaphor for a limit or obstacle difficult to overcome.
Thus the Peak wall was originally nothing more than an expression of how hard it was to reach Peak Expert. Yet within his mental landscape Cheonhwa had actually stood before a wall.
A mental landscape is the place where intent takes form; what one sees there changes according to one’s perspective.
So what, then, was the wall he had faced?
“The limit of a martial artist… no, of a human being.”
Precisely. It is merely the form taken by the limit that every living thing under heaven naturally possesses.
“Then what is the purpose of the question-and-answer that takes place before the wall?”
It is bound up with what one gains upon crossing. You have already experienced enough to guess.
What distinguished a Peak Expert from those who had not yet reached that height? Clues had been everywhere: the intent and mental consciousness said to be attainable only at Peak; the Spiritual Nature left by the founding master within the sword scar; the Intent Qi Manifestation he himself had once unleashed through the Ice Crystal’s Spiritual Nature. Drawing all of it together, the conclusion was clear.
“Crossing the Peak wall means giving birth to a Spiritual Nature.”
A living being that bore a Spiritual Nature was called a spirit creature. A Peak Expert was a human who, while still in human form, had attained the state of a spirit. That was why the gulf between the realms before and after Peak was so absolute.
“If the Peak wall is the limit of humanity, then the question-and-answer required to surpass it is…”
The process necessary to create a Spiritual Nature.
“Now I understand. That is why an ordinary answer could never shatter the wall.”
A Spiritual Nature was a wellspring of miracle born from the purest concentration of intent. Half-hearted intent could never give it form. The question was a lifelong koan, a goal to be pursued without end; the answer was a declaration of resolve upon which a martial artist staked his entire life.
Suddenly Cheonhwa recalled the moment he had first encountered the founding master’s Spiritual Nature in the cave of the sword scar.
Back then the founding master asked: Can an ordinary person never become a master?
Looking back, that question itself had been a clue left for later disciples who would one day stand before the Peak. And as the answer, the founding master had bequeathed the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven and the martial arts of the Zhongnan Sect. Every martial art, large or small, carried the intent of its creator. It was not strange to regard mastery of the sword arts as one great question-and-answer.
As if affirming his thoughts, the Sinking Heavy Water Tree spoke again.
The path by which a human reaches the state of a spirit creature differs from that of other living things.
Ordinary spirits attained their nature through a complex weaving of many factors; they did not gain Spiritual Nature through question-and-answer the way humans did.
To most spirit creatures, Spiritual Nature is simply something they possess from the moment they awaken to self-awareness.
Humans were different. They did not arrive at the state naturally, as other spirits did; through the artificial means of martial arts they could force their way into it. That was a path open only to humankind.
Humans pile up effort by their own will until they break through their limits. Therefore look back upon all that you yourself have piled up. The answer lies within you.
At those words Cheonhwa remembered what the founding master’s intent had told him just before he completed Hyeoncheon-jingi and first faced the Peak wall.
A road that holds meaning only when walked alone.
Others might help him reach Peak Expert, but no one could walk the path in his place—just as no one else could live his life for him.
What is my koan? What is my resolve?
The deliberation did not last long. He had carried the answer since before he ever entered the Zhongnan Sect.
How must one stand against injustice?
That had been the question he held in his heart even as a homeless orphan.
Become a master who will never bend, who can resist anything.
That had been the conclusion he reached.
I’ve gone in a great circle and returned to the starting point.
It was the resolve he had always carried, yet it had been so obvious that he had almost overlooked it. At the same time, what he must do to reach Peak Expert became perfectly clear.
Master the middle sections of the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven, then reach their ultimate form.
To become a master meant to possess power, and for Cheonhwa power was martial arts. Raising his achievement in those arts was the swiftest road across the wall.
You mean to leave already?
“Yes. I take a great deal with me thanks to you.”
Think nothing of it. I know how carefully you have treasured my branch.
During the repair the tree had read how meticulously Cheonhwa had always cared for Okgyeong. The sword had been broken in fierce battle, but that was the fate of any weapon; a tool found meaning only when used according to its purpose. Honoring that attitude, the tree had chosen to help him.
Do not forget that heart, and continue to advance, young Taoist of Zhongnan.
As it spoke, the tree’s leaves stirred in a cool breeze—a silent dismissal. Even that carried the sense that he should go and do what must be done.
“Thank you.”
Leaving his gratitude with the Sinking Heavy Water Tree, Cheonhwa departed the training ground. Only one task remained.
Train without rest until I can cross the Peak wall.
As if answering its master’s will, a jade gleam flashed along the blade of Okgyeong resting on his shoulder.
After repairing Okgyeong, Cheonhwa spent some time in a whirl of activity. He delivered detailed accounts of matters he had only summarized in his reports, and he related events he had not been able to include at all. Muwol’s expression shifted by the moment as he listened, reaching its peak when he heard that Cheonhwa had completed Hyeoncheon-jingi on Mount Taebaek and now stood before the Peak wall.
Surviving a duel with Wol-ak and miraculously defeating the Blood Wolf Iron Claw had been astonishing enough, yet the news that Cheonhwa was knocking at the door of Peak Expert seemed to strike even harder. The first two feats, witnessed with one’s own eyes, still bordered on the unbelievable; the claim that he was already challenging Peak, however, felt immediate and real.
“Not even twenty years old, and already standing on the threshold of Peak Expert… I have sensed it for some time, but your rate of growth is simply absurd.”
Even granting a solid foundation and several strokes of fortune, the speed remained unnatural. Most shocking of all was that Cheonhwa’s innate talent was only ordinary. Even Yeonhwa, the foremost prodigy among the third-generation disciples of the Zhongnan Sect, had never shot upward like bamboo after rain the way he had.
“Is there anything we can do to help you?”
“I would like to experience as many of Zhongnan’s sword arts as possible.”
Cheonhwa explained how simply encountering the sword techniques of the Zhongnan lineage had allowed him to absorb them. Muwol stared at him as though looking at a monster.
“To learn a sword art merely by experiencing it is something only a born genius like Yeonhwa can do. Are you certain that is true?”
“Yes. If you doubt me, you are free to test it.”
“…You have no reason to lie. Very well. I will make the preparations as you ask.”