Crush, and Reforge
The next morning, barely after dawn, an unexpected visitor arrived at Namgung Cheon's quarters.
It was Namgung Un, the trusted right hand of his mother Jegal Hwa and the Chief Internal Steward of the Namgung Clan.
He was the man who shadowed Jegal Hwa like a guardian spirit, and within the clan, his movements were understood to carry her will directly. That such a man now stood before him, holding an elegant wooden case, and bowed his head in courteous deference.
"Third Young Master, this is something the Acting Matriarch wished to convey."
His manner was impeccably respectful, yet deep in his eyes lingered an unhidden thread of suspicion. Until yesterday, the youngest son had been all but invisible—then overnight he had become a storm shaking the entire clan. It was only natural that Namgung Un could not yet bring himself to fully trust so sudden a transformation.
Namgung Cheon accepted the wooden case without a word. A heavy weight settled in his palm, along with a strange, faint warmth that seeped through his skin. When he lifted the lid, a single elixir pill lay inside, red and gold swirling together in an unearthly glow.
The Heavenly King Heart-Nourishing Pill…
Its mere presence made the blood and qi throughout his whole body seethe.
"The Acting Matriarch said that bearing this elixir is a task that belongs to you alone, Young Master. With that, I shall take my leave."
Namgung Un delivered only the essentials of his errand, then turned and departed without a hint of hesitation. Namgung Cheon gazed at the closed door for a moment before shifting his gaze down to the pill in his hand.
Bearing it is my task as well, is it.
His mother's test was not yet over. The elixir was another trial altogether—one that would measure him as a merchant measures a vessel, by how much it could hold.
He did not hesitate. Sitting upright in meditation, he tipped the Heavenly King Heart-Nourishing Pill straight into his mouth.
The instant it passed down his throat and touched his dantian—
KWAAAAAANG—!
A fury of heat so violent it defied consciousness erupted from his gut and engulfed him.
"Ugh!"
A groan tore from Namgung Cheon's lips as pain wracked him, his dantian feeling ready to burst apart.
The Heavenly King Heart-Nourishing Pill. For all its name—'supplementing the heart of a king'—its true essence bordered on destruction. It shattered the old, narrow vessel completely, then forged a new one atop the wreckage. An ordinary warrior, meeting that first shockwave alone, would have had every meridian in his body melt away and been reduced to a cripple.
But Namgung Cheon embraced the terrible destruction head-on.
Shatter. And rebuild.
Drawing on the experience of his past life, he seized the reins of the rampaging energy as it went mad within him. The meridians he had barely managed to open when completing a single Small Heavenly Circuit now became a great river, mercilessly widened by the flood of power surging into them. Every vessel swelled taut; his muscles and bones twisted, screaming. Pain like flesh tearing and bone grinding crashed over him in waves.
The moment his body passed the critical point it could endure, his consciousness began to blur. If he let go of his mind now, the runaway energy would tear his body to shreds.
And then, it flashed through his mind—the memory of his past life.
An arrogant will that had never once broken, even amid countless betrayals and brushes with death. The soul of the Heavenly Demon drove the weakened body onward.
I will not kneel to a pain this trivial.
He forced his mind to hold, and drove the energy harder, fiercer still. If there was no avoiding it, then he would charge straight into its heart.
The pain had already passed beyond the realm of sensation. And just as his consciousness began to dim—
KUDUDUDUDUK—!
Along the central axis of his body, down the length of his spine, something like an iron bar keeping a gate shut cracked and splintered, one bolt after another bursting free.
The Ren and Du meridians. The two greatest riverbeds through which the qi of heaven and earth flowed in and out of the human body. That forbidden realm, unreachable by meager internal energy, was being pried open by the ferocious power of the Heavenly King Heart-Nourishing Pill and the will of the Heavenly Demon who had mastered it.
The moment the two blocked channels flew open, the rampaging energy found its sea. Like a river meeting the ocean, it settled in an instant, and began a circulation vaster and smoother than anything he had known before. The meridians that had been torn apart rebuilt themselves tougher and firmer; his internal energy flowed without obstruction, and his dantian deepened and widened like a lake that never ran dry. Every trace of turbid qi was purged from his body, until marrow-deep he was filled with clear, pristine energy.
Time slipped past, and night had fully settled by the time Namgung Cheon slowly opened his eyes.
Hwaahk—
A flash of azure light swept across the room.
…Astonishing.
The Heavenly King Heart-Nourishing Pill lacked nothing even when measured against the finest elixirs of the Demonic Cult. If anything, considering how the Cult's elixirs usually left lingering side effects even for those who survived them, it was superior.
My realm has risen considerably.
Everything in the room looked different now. A single mote of dust drifting through the air, the very outline of moonlight sliding across the paper doors—each stood out with a clarity he could almost grasp in his hand.
Opening of the Ren and Du Meridians. I've crossed a mountain.
He rose slowly to his feet. Lightness and fullness suffused his body with every movement. With a satisfied smile, he opened the door and stepped outside—to surpass yesterday's self completely, and to lead the sword of Namgung into a new realm.
Namgung Cheon stood in the small courtyard behind his quarters. He drew Changcheon from his waist. The weight that had once felt ponderous now rested in his grip as comfortably as an extension of his own arm.
Shreung—
The blade emerged with a clear ring, and a cool azure glow mingled with the moonlight to weave a scene of unearthly beauty. Truly worthy of being called the treasured sword of Namgung.
Namgung Cheon adjusted his grip on the blade and slowly closed his eyes. In his mind rose the first form of the Changgung Muae Sword Art, the ancestral sword technique of the Namgung Clan—the First Form, Heavy Mountain Cleaves the Sky.
Cleave through mountains stacked upon mountains and open the heavens, such was its meaning. It was the foundational form of the Changgung Muae Sword Art, crushing an opponent head-on with overwhelming weight and momentum.
In its orthodox form, Heavy Mountain Cleaves the Sky required the lower body to be planted firmly while internal energy flowed smoothly through the muscles, bones, and meridians of the entire frame. The proper method was to layer the qi slowly across the whole of the blade, until sword and body became one with the weight of a mountain. That was the very essence of the technique.
But Namgung Cheon did not follow it.
Press down on them? A foolish notion.
The Heavenly Demon's thinking was different.
Power only weakens as you spread it out. Condense everything into a single point, and tear.
He drove the rich internal energy coursing through his opened Ren and Du meridians straight down his arm. His meridians, hardened beyond what they had been, bore the entirety of the force without complaint. A dense azure sword energy coiled thick along the full length of the edge. Then he drew the blade straight down before him in a vertical line.
Shwaaek—
There was no thunderous roar. Instead, a keen hiss of splitting air rang out. Where the blade had passed, a vivid blue afterimage shimmered—then a single line of sword energy shot forth and sliced the great boulder in the corner of the courtyard cleanly in two, like a block of tofu.
"…"
Namgung Cheon regarded the overwhelming result in silence.
The trajectory of the form is Heavy Mountain Cleaves the Sky. But the interpretation within it belongs to the Heavenly Demon.
The sword art of Namgung—and hidden within it, devastating destructive power and killing intent. This was the path he would walk.
He threw himself into training until the night wore thin. Each time another form of the Changgung Muae Sword Art unfolded, azure traces—far sharper and fiercer than before—layered upon one another across the courtyard. Lines that had wavered at first gradually sharpened and settled into a consistent shape.
As the eastern sky began to pale, he at last sheathed his sword. His whole body was drenched in sweat, yet never since gaining this new body had he felt so good. As he caught his breath, the final scene of his past life surfaced unbidden in his mind.
The Heavenly Demon Palace, drenched in blood. After that horrific internecine war, what had become of the Demonic Cult?
But he shook his head at once.
There is no time to be bound by the past.
Decades had already passed. Whatever they did now, whoever claimed the seat of power—none of it mattered to the man he was today. What mattered was the strength in this hand, and the greater strength yet to be won.
Power. That, and that alone, was the sole law and order of this world.
In his past life, the elders of the Demonic Cult had spun schemes, built factions, and wallowed in sordid political games to amass influence. Yet all their shadowy struggles were nothing more than sandcastles before his overwhelming might. What they truly feared and obeyed was never the title of Cult Leader—it was the absolute power embodied by the Heavenly Demon himself.
Power itself is authority. It is the throne, and the only road that makes others follow.
Nor was this the way of the Demonic Path alone. Orthodox sects, unorthodox sects—whatever lofty justification they raised, in the end the words of the strong carried the true weight. That was the essence of the martial world itself.
Which left only one road.
I will prove it.
Prove the martial spirit hidden behind the name of Namgung Cheon, once so frail. And the surest way to prove it was to break the strong.
In that case…
A faint smile touched his lips. Then, without a trace of lingering attachment, he turned and left his quarters.
The Thunderbolt Sect. A middle-ranked Orthodox sect—never famous across all the world, yet within Anhui Province a power no one dared dismiss.
Ever since Gwak San, the Thunderbolt Saber, had become Sect Leader a dozen years past, the Thunderbolt Sect had grown bolder and fiercer with each passing day.
"HYAAAH!"
In the center of the training grounds, Gwak San's arm swept down with a thunderous shout, and the great saber in his hand fell like a bolt of lightning. The blade, laden with keen saber energy, carved through the ranks of wooden dummies that filled the yard.
KWAKWAKWANG—!
Half a dozen dummies burst apart at once, spraying wooden splinters in every direction. From the disciples watching the training nearby, gasps of admiration escaped before they could stop themselves.
Beyond any doubt, this was the Peak Realm.
But Gwak San's own assessment was different.
…When, I wonder, will I ever cross it?
Heaving a rough breath, he re-gripped his saber. Others praised his martial feats, but he could not satisfy himself. He had reached the very summit of the Peak Realm, yet no clue to the path beyond ever came into view. This suffocating stagnation had already dragged on for years.
Worse, the rumors drifting through Hefei of late had only fanned his anxiety: the invisible youngest son of the Namgung Clan had attained the Sword Selection—two blades at once, no less.
If those rumors are true, the map of Anhui will shake to its foundations before long.
To survive such a age of upheaval and lift his sect one step higher, his present strength would not be enough.
"Sect Leader! Sect Leader!"
Just as he raised his saber again, a disciple came sprinting into the training grounds, his face alight with urgency. Gwak San furrowed his brow.
"What is it? Making a racket in the middle of training."
"F-Forgive me, Sect Leader! A visitor… a visitor has arrived!"
"A visitor?"
The disciple swallowed dryly and all but whispered.
"The Third Young Master of the Namgung Clan has come in person!"
"What did you say?"
Gwak San's eyes wavered violently. The Namgung Clan. A colossal presence beneath the same Hefei sky, yet one so towering he had never dared even dream of seeking formal ties with it. And now a son of that clan—the very Third Young Master at the heart of the recent rumors—had come for what purpose? Every manner of speculation flashed through his mind.
"…Show him in."
Gwak San spoke, concealing his turmoil. He hurriedly straightened his robes and set off. In his steps toward the reception hall there was none of his usual hearty ease—only a heavy, coiled tension.
The reception hall, when he arrived. And there at its center stood the man he had known only by rumor.
An expensive-looking martial robe, and two swords hanging at his waist. For all his handsome features, the aura that emanated from him was still and cold, its depths impossible to fathom. Gwak San swallowed without meaning to.
The man looked years younger than him, yet his presence alone was pressing down on the bearing of a Peak Realm master. Instinct told Gwak San that the rumors of the Sword Selection were no idle boast.
Forcing himself to stay composed, Gwak San spoke first.
"Gwak San, Sect Leader of the Thunderbolt Sect, greets the Third Young Master of Namgung. To what do we owe such an honored visit to this humble place…"
Namgung Cheon brushed aside the greeting with a slight tilt of his head. Then, without the slightest preamble, he laid out his purpose.
"The renown of the Thunderbolt Saber is well known to me."
He continued.
"Whether that renown is real— I have come to see it with my own eyes."
The proof of martial might. The duel had begun.
Namgung Cheonma
Author | Baek Rihaeng
Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Managing Editor | Editorial Department
Published by | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dreambooks
Address | 7F, Kwangsung Building, 28 Eunsa-ro 114-gil, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
ISBN | 979-11-7306-734-1
Blog | blog.naver.com/dreambookss
Twitter (X) | @dreambookss
Submissions | [email protected]
No part of this book may be used in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dreambooks.