Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Childhood (5)
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The next morning, in the courtyard of the thatched house.
Ma Il-seok spoke to Mok Ri-won with his arms crossed.
“…I won’t apologize. I still believe there was no better way to reveal your innate constitution.”
His tone remained firm.
Yet, amid that firmness, his expression had clearly softened compared to before.
The reason was simple.
He had overheard the conversation between the two boys the night before, from a distance.
Ma Il-seok was a man who valued righteousness.
He also prized integrity and humanity.
Because of that, he couldn’t bring himself to treat harshly a child who knew his own nature was flawed and wept over it.
“However, I promise you this. If you never forget your resolve to become a hero, I will stake my name on helping you.”
Of course, Mok Ri-won had no way of knowing any of this.
He simply smiled in response.
The boy, now truly facing his dream, could smile even in the face of adversity.
“Yes! I’m counting on you!”
Mok Seon-o watched the two with a pleased expression.
‘Good.’
He had worried their relationship might go awry, but seeing it unfold as he had hoped filled him with joy.
He had a younger brother and a disciple.
And he himself was there too.
With the conviction that the boy could surely grow into a hero, Mok Seon-o rose from his seat and spoke.
“Come now, Won-ah. The time has come.”
“Yes?”
“Didn’t it bother you that this master hadn’t taught you internal arts?”
Mok Ri-won’s eyes widened.
His mouth slowly fell open.
Mok Seon-o continued to his stunned disciple.
“Truth be told, there was something that worried me, so I couldn’t start your training right away. It concerns your nature as well.”
Flinch—.
Mok Ri-won’s body trembled.
Mok Seon-o placed a hand on his shoulder and continued in his usual gentle tone.
“It’s about your constitution. Will you hear me out?”
His smile held a hint of concern.
Tension lingered there too.
Seeing his master’s expression, Mok Ri-won realized the coming words were gravely serious.
“Yes…!”
Thus, with a face mirroring his master’s tension, he listened intently.
*
Extreme Demonic Physique.
A constitution suited solely for demonic arts, and the same one possessed by the most vicious demon in martial history.
Mok Ri-won fell into great shock upon learning his body was such a thing.
But there was a fortunate point.
He was no longer a child frail enough to kneel before it, nor one to despair simply because his weapon was unusual.
“Master.”
“Yes.”
“…Still, I can become a hero, right?”
Mok Ri-won asked.
Mok Seon-o suddenly felt grateful.
The child’s straight gaze, unclouded by despair, filled him with pride.
“I guarantee it.”
“Then that’s enough!”
Mok Ri-won grinned brightly.
Watching him, Ma Il-seok wrinkled his nose, then stepped forward and spoke.
“The Extreme Demonic Physique may be for demonic arts, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cultivate orthodox arts.”
All eyes turned to Ma Il-seok.
He held his head high, looking straight down at Mok Ri-won among them, and continued.
“Whether your meridians are reversed or your built internal energy flows wildly and clouds your mind—those are problems you overcome with your will. There is only one thing you must keep in mind!”
Ma Il-seok uncrossed his arms.
He clenched his fist and thumped his chest.
“Conquering it and taming the nature that tests you. Just as the name your brother gave you implies.”
Mok Ri-won.
Taking Mok from Mok Seon-o’s surname.
Ri from “reason” (理) and Won from “origin” (原).
The meaning: Become a child who masters his own origin.
Mok Ri-won knew it well.
He looked at Mok Seon-o.
Mok Seon-o smiled and nodded.
“…Yes, I’ll do it.”
Mok Ri-won steeled his heart once more.
*
Training was grueling.
Without Mok Seon-o guiding him as on the first day, problems arose when circulating internal energy solely on his own power.
Mok Ri-won’s body was made for demonic arts.
The Heavenly Slaughter Star he bore was filled with killing intent.
The internal energy formed from their union was so ferocious it even gnawed at his own body.
He couldn’t even attempt the Small Heavenly Circuit.
Simply releasing internal energy from his dantian brought the pain of his whole body being torn apart, his heart pounding wildly and churning his mind.
All he could do was grit his teeth and endure to bring the energy under control.
“Won-ah, you can do it.”
Mok Seon-o’s encouragement was there.
“Endure. If you truly aspire to be a hero, you can’t fall to something like this.”
Ma Il-seok’s prodding was there too.
Thus, about two weeks passed.
Finally, the day came when he could circulate without pain.
The day he completed the Small Heavenly Circuit on his own.
For the first time in his life, Mok Ri-won saw tears in Mok Seon-o’s eyes.
“Splendid….”
Mok Seon-o embraced him.
Mok Ri-won’s face went blank.
His master’s tears, the hot fervor in the voice conveyed with them—it didn’t feel real.
After a moment’s hesitation, realizing he had succeeded in handling internal energy, Mok Ri-won mirrored his master’s teary face and began to cry.
“It’s done…!”
The sight of master and disciple embracing held a warm glow.
Ma Il-seok’s lips twitched upward crookedly at the scene, then he cleared his throat and approached.
“Excellent.”
Mok Ri-won’s body jolted.
It was the first time Ma Il-seok had praised him.
Lifting his head, he saw Ma Il-seok smiling awkwardly.
“You’ve done something worthy of praise, so I suppose a fitting gift is in order.”
Ma Il-seok drew a book from his bosom.
He handed it to Mok Ri-won.
Mok Ri-won’s eyes grew wide.
‘Tales of the Jianghu Heroes….’
He knew the book.
No, he had heard of it.
It was the very book Mok Seon-o had promised to show him on the night he first confronted his constitution.
“Congratulations. Now you are first-rate.”
First-rate.
The realm where one could truly call oneself a martial artist.
The realm where one could set foot on the path of a true hero.
Mok Ri-won felt it gradually becoming real.
His heart thumped erratically.
A flush bloomed across his face.
Clueless with the ticklish burning inside, he glanced between Mok Seon-o and Ma Il-seok, then burst into a wide grin and shouted.
“Thank you!”
*
『Proclaim to all the Central Plains: The most vicious evil has come to punish you.
A demon crawled up from the depths of hell to drag you down.
Thief of others’ wealth, leave nothing in your bosom.
Destroyer of others’ families, leave no one by your side.
Luster after others’ affections, receive punishment a hundredfold your sins.
They say poison is overcome with poison, heat with heat.
Thus, evil must be overcome with evil.
I shall become the most vicious demon and sweep away the evils of this Central Plains.
Sinners of the Central Plains, behold me in fear.
I stand above all the world’s wicked karma to punish it—a demon, to be called the Demonic Hero.』
Thud—.
In the room lit dimly by the lantern.
Mok Ri-won closed the book, his face flushed.
‘Demonic Hero…!’
A hero who becomes the most fearsome demon to punish the wicked.
Having read every part about him, Mok Ri-won trembled with excitement.
‘So cool!’
Cool.
No other word could describe that epic tale, thought Mok Ri-won.
He closed his eyes.
And imagined.
Himself as an adult standing in the fray, villains of hideous mien tense before him.
As he drew his sword, their faces paled.
He moved with dashing footwork, and they screamed.
Before the villains kneeling and wiping tears, he declared.
—Fear me! I am the Demonic Hero, the hell demon come to punish you!
Shiver—.
Mok Ri-won’s body trembled.
Giggling to himself under the covers, unable to stay still, he sprang up and looked toward the door.
‘I need to train!’
He wanted to become a master quickly and venture into the jianghu.
Like the Demonic Hero in Tales of the Jianghu Heroes, punishing villains and raising his name.
Tip-toe.
Slipping from the covers, Mok Ri-won quietly opened the door.
He peered outside through the gap.
No one was there.
Now he could go out and train.
Mok Ri-won left the room and put on his shoes.
Worried his master might wake, he cautiously moved away from the thatched house.
He arrived at the streamside.
Inhaling deeply with a ‘hoo-eop,’ he began releasing internal energy from his dantian.
In his hand, a worthless twig.
Boiling within: the savage energy now tamed enough to wrestle with.
Mok Ri-won closed his eyes and swung the sword.
Swish—.
He clumsily imitated the sword dance of Mok Seon-o etched in his mind.
Under the moonlight, the sword dance of a boy who had finally found his path continued.
“That impatient rascal.”
At the quiet streamside, not far from where Mok Ri-won danced his sword, Ma Il-seok clicked his tongue.
Mok Seon-o smiled at his attitude and said.
“Isn’t his passion a good thing?”
“Why do you always see the world so brightly, brother?”
“And you always see it so crookedly.”
Ma Il-seok scowled.
Mok Seon-o gazed at Mok Ri-won with a soft smile and murmured lowly.
“Isn’t it admirable?”
“What is?”
“That he rises without giving up.”
The boy filled Mok Seon-o’s dark eyes.
His lips curved in full satisfaction at the scene.
“One who knows to rise and strive—that one becomes a true hero.”
*
Mok Ri-won’s days flew by.
By the rapidly growing boy were two masters, one book, and a wooden sword worn from handling.
Swish—.
Swish—.
The sword dance under the moonlight continued.
Mok Ri-won had grown a full handspan taller.
Now ten years old, in the midst of his nightly training without fail, he suddenly felt a strange sensation.
‘My internal energy….’
It sought to leave his body.
No, more precisely, to connect elsewhere.
Bzzz—.
The sword dance did not stop.
Mok Ri-won knew what this strange phenomenon heralded.
“Ah….”
A soft sigh escaped, and a smile formed on his lips.
Even greater power filled his continuing movements.
Joy welled up inside.
The ticklishness intensified.
In the midst of joyfully continuing the sword dance, he realized.
‘So this is it.’
Whoosh—!
Finally, the realm of channeling qi beyond the body into the sword.
The first-rate realm, as the jianghu called it—and he had reached it.
*
Time passed again.
Mok Ri-won’s sword dance continued too.
The boy dancing by the streamside under the moonlight had become a youthful man with a masculine bearing.
His facial lines remained soft.
His skin was fair, his eyelashes long.
His countenance suited “beauty” more than “handsome,” yet his elongated build was unmistakably masculine.
Swish—.
The wooden sword he once swung was now steel.
The once clumsy sword dance now traced quite beautiful lines.
In the midst of his ever more refined sword dance, Mok Ri-won suddenly halted and stood still.
He opened his eyes, long closed, and gazed at the moon in the sky and the stars adorning it.
‘…Bright.’
Even in the night when the world slept, the sky was bright.
The celestial bodies shining faintly cast steady light so the night felt not lonely.
Mok Ri-won raised his sword high to the sky.
With a faint smile, he shook the tip, connecting star to star.
Thus, he recited the incantation of the Star-Link Divine Art.
The path linking constellations, himself standing beneath it.
And before him, the stream reflecting the night sky.
Swish—.
The tremors of his sword tip drawing paths one by one coalesced into a single sword path.
Another sword path arose atop it.
Heaven and earth, and himself—woven by constellations into a pulsing sword.
Boom boom.
Pulsing with it was his internal energy.
Mok Ri-won soothed the unpleasant old companion he had wrestled with for so long and laid it upon the path he created.
Saaah—.
The sound of wind rose.
Mok Ri-won’s movements stopped.
“It’s done.”
He laughed loudly and ended the sword dance.
He looked at his sword tip.
Something hovered above the blade.
Pitch-black like the night sky, yet emanating a chilling glow—a wondrous aura.
An aura just like the eyes of his beloved master.
Mok Ri-won knew what to call this inky light.
‘Sword Qi Wounds Men.’
The pinnacle realm.
The 18-year-old youth Mok Ri-won had awakened it mid-sword dance under the night sky.