My Azure Sky Great Evolution

Shwaaaak—!

A azure sword force surged toward the darkness in the sky.

KWAAANG!

The world within his mind shook.

With a colossal detonation, the demonic figure was split in two—but Namgung Cheon did not stop.

Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!

He swung his sword without pause.

Changcheon Mansangryu.

Soft as drifting clouds, piercing as heavenly thunder, and cutting in secret like moonlight.

Dozens of sword forces assailed the darkness like a storm.

Only after he had emptied everything did he pause.

Is it finished?

Namgung Cheon held his sword still for a moment and stared ahead. The ground around where he stood was strewn with black fragments scattered as far as the eye could see. An darkness torn apart so viciously that its original shape was beyond recognition.

But then—

Srrrrk.

The scattered black fragments began to writhe once more. Like living creatures, they drew toward one another, and in an instant coalesced into a single massive form again.

Larger than before. More ferocious than before.

From within the black energy, it almost seemed to sneer at him.

Namgung Cheon's brow furrowed.

I cut down everything, without a doubt.

He had even unleashed the Changcheon Mansangryu, a fusion of the purity of orthodox martial arts and the subtle mysteries of the demonic path. Dregs like that lingering within him should have been carved away with ease.

Then why…?

At that moment—

Shushushk!

The darkness shot toward Namgung Cheon like arrows.

Tabadak!

He shifted his footwork, weaving between the torrent of black arrows, and swung his sword once more.

KA-GANG! CHAE-CHAENG!

His strikes landed and beat the arrows away—but the darkness he severed scattered across the ground only to reform into arrows again, all of them aimed straight for him.

And the black fissure torn across the sky was growing wider by the moment.

A bead of sweat formed on Namgung Cheon's brow. The exhaustion weighing on his mind far exceeded anything of the body. The fact that his sword did not reach it. The bitter taste of his own martial art being denied—of his own creation being called false.

Am I the one who is wrong?

He asked himself. The experience he had amassed as the Heavenly Demon of his past life, the enlightenment he had gained as Namgung Cheon of this one. Was this a battle that could only be won by casting all of it aside?

Impossible.

He deflected an incoming arrow with force and gripped his sword tight once more.

If I were wrong… then I would never have become the Heavenly Demon, and this second life would never have carried me this far.

Which meant—

The method is what is flawed. I must begin thinking from the very beginning.

Tabadak—.

He stepped into the Heavenly Walking Steps, widening the distance and evading the incoming arrows with the barest minimum of movement.

First. The nature of that black energy itself.

What in the world is it?

Demonic qi?

No. Impossible. This body had never once stored demonic qi in its channels. What filled his dantian was nothing but the pure internal energy of the Azure Sky Great Evolution Heart Law.

Then is it the lingering resentment of my past life?

That was not it either. The memories of his previous life remained in his head only as knowledge from some old, musty tome. The rage that had boiled over from betrayal, the resentment that had thirsted for vengeance—he had already poured them all out along with his death.

A new cup must hold new wine.

I am not so foolish as to drag sentiments gone cold with death into this life as well.

The moment Namgung Cheon finished arranging his thoughts and lifted his eyes to the black fissure in the sky—

Shwaaak—!

One of the black arrows twisted its trajectory in mid-flight and went for his throat.

"…!"

That cunning movement. Reading the opponent's breath and thought, burrowing into the exact instant of carelessness—that vicious habit. It was achingly familiar.

Like looking into a mirror.

"…Ah."

A sigh escaped Namgung Cheon's lips.

It was not the enemy.

It is me.

The Heavenly Demon of his past life, Namgung Cheon of his present—both, in the end, were himself. And so that black energy was not something that had invaded from outside. It was the weight of the years he had carried within, and his instinct itself.

The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow it casts. He had tried to embrace the immense light known as the Azure Sky—and so a shadow equally deep had been born.

And what had he done?

I tried to cut that shadow away.

He had tried to deny his own other half—the very force that had held him upright all this time.

How foolish of me.

A hollow laugh slipped from Namgung Cheon's lips. All while claiming he would make himself complete, he had tried to repudiate half of who he was.

"So that's what this was."

Namgung Cheon lowered his sword.

And then—

Tuk.

The black arrows flying toward him stopped dead in the empty air.

"Something that could never be severed."

Namgung Cheon murmured low.

"Because you, too, were me."

He began to walk slowly toward the black energy.

With calm steps, as though trying to study his own reflection in a mirror.

KUGUGUNG—!

The black energy raged and surged violently once more.

Swish—.

Energies sharp as thorns grazed his skin. A cutting sharpness, a chill that burrowed into the very marrow. Any ordinary martial artist would have swung his sword on instinct and beat it back.

But Namgung Cheon did not stop.

For within that coldness touching his skin, he felt a strange heat. A heat he had forgotten for a long while.

And Namgung Cheon knew what that heat was.

Fighting spirit.

The heart that wished to fight, to survive. From his beginning as a lone orphan at the edge of the world, to his ascent to the summit of the demonic path—it was the emotion he had won thrashing and clawing for his life, the proof of a strong man's pride carved into his very bones.

Yes. Without fighting spirit one could not grip a sword, and without a sword one could not reach the heavens.

"Come back to me."

Namgung Cheon reached out his hand.

His fingertips touched the black energy. And in that instant—

FWAAAAAH—!

Blinding light erupted.

The black energy flowed into Namgung Cheon's hand without the slightest resistance. It was a union as natural as a river emptying into the sea.

Namgung Cheon's dantian—the azure sky, blue and vast.

That clear, lofty heaven began to change. Half the sky remained a piercingly blue noon, while the other half was stained in deep darkness.

A sky where day and night coexisted. The rightful order of the orthodox and the inverted order of the demonic, locked together and turning in one great Taiji. No longer confined to the blue heavens alone, but embracing even the darkness and extending outward without end—the Great Evolution.

So this is…

Flash.

Namgung Cheon opened his eyes.

A azure light clear as the heavens, and a crimson light like flame. His pupils, bearing both lights, gleamed brilliant and sharp within the darkness.

My Azure Sky Great Evolution.

Namgung Rin's face turned toward the spot where Namgung Cheon sat, beyond the thick black cloth.

Her hands had long since left the strings of the lute. Her eyes were blindfolded with cloth so that nothing could be seen, and her internal energy sealed her ears so that nothing could be heard—and yet she knew.

Knew that the performance was no longer needed.

It's gone quiet.

Until moments ago, Namgung Cheon's energy had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been churning violently. Now it had stilled as if by magic. For his energy to settle ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the middle of a mental trial like this could mean only one thing.

…The state of no-self.

A state of absolute, total immersion.

There's nothing more I can do for him.

Not that she could break her promise and pull off the blindfold even if she wanted to. Namgung Rin laid the Cheonwolhyeon quietly across her knees.

The tips of the fingers that had plucked the strings throbbed faintly. Matching her playing against Namgung Cheon's energy had drained a fair measure of her own internal energy as well. Sweat beaded on her forehead and trickled down, but she did not so much as think of wiping it away.

She simply waited. With both sight and hearing sealed away, sensing her younger brother's presence through energy-sense alone.

Please, let it succeed…

How much time had passed? It had been long enough that measuring it was beyond her, when—

FWAAAH—!

A flash of light burst forth, brilliant enough to pierce straight through the thick cloth over her eyes. At the same instant, the exploding energy sent a heavy tremor through the entire stone chamber.

KUGUGUGU—.

Dust rained down from the ceiling as though from a storm, and the flagstones of the floor shuddered. Instinctively, Namgung Rin cradled the Cheonwolhyeon to her chest and curled her body to shield it.

An energy so sharp it stung swept across her whole body.

"…!"

The moment her startled lips were about to part—

―It is finished.

Namgung Cheon's transmitted voice reached her first. A clear, resonant tone sounding directly within her mind. At that single utterance, Namgung Rin untied the cloth over her eyes with trembling hands.

Srrrk.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cloth fell to the floor, and her vision opened up.

The first thing her eyes caught was the sight of the dust suspended in the air slowly settling. And at the very center of it sat Namgung Cheon, facing her, looking her way.

Nothing seemed outwardly changed—and yet she could tell. That very ordinariness was proof that he had reached a realm she could not even begin to fathom. Like a mighty river grown utterly calm upon reaching the sea, he had been gathered to such perfection that his depth could no longer be measured.

"…You did it."

At her words, Namgung Cheon rose slowly from his seat. He looked down at his own hand for a moment, then lifted his head and met Namgung Rin's eyes.

And he bowed.

"Thank you."

Short and unadorned. Namgung Cheon bowed his head deeply in respect.

Namgung Rin waved her hands, looking a little embarrassed.

"Oh, stop it. We're family, what's all this. Ah, right—it was a trade to begin with anyway. I got the Cheonwolhyeon out of it, so we're even."

Namgung Rin smiled brightly. Perhaps it was the tension draining out of her, but her voice came out higher than usual. She stroked the lute on her knees, feigning nonchalance, and added:

"If you'd failed, this precious lute would never have seen the light of day either. So when you really think about it, I came out ahead—huh?"

Mid-sentence, Namgung Rin tilted her head, turning her ear as though straining to listen. And then her brow creased slightly.

"What is that?"

Namgung Rin murmured, the laughter gone from her face. Her gaze lifted to the ceiling. Her eyes sharpened, as though trying to see through the thick bedrock to something beyond it.

"Outside… it's gotten noisy."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"What do you mean?"

At Namgung Cheon's question, she closed her eyes. Sifting out the noise—the wind, the chirping of insects—and isolating only the anomalous wave. It was a feat possible for her alone, with her heaven-given hearing.

At last, Namgung Rin opened her eyes and spoke, looking unsettled.

"…It's rough out there."

Only then did Namgung Cheon draw his energy-sense upward as well. His senses, widened by the completion of his heart law, pierced the stone chamber's thick walls and stretched out above the ground.

And he felt it. Faint, but unmistakable—killing intent.

And—

He's drawn his sword.

Namgung Seon, the Branch Master, stood with blade bared, facing someone down. Then, unbidden, Namgung Hwi's words from before his departure flickered across Namgung Cheon's mind. The words that something seemed to be troubling the branch. The commotion unfolding outside now might well be connected to whatever that trouble was.

Namgung Cheon's eyes sank cold. A chill frost coiled about him.

"Let's go."

Namgung Cheon said quietly, resting his hand on Mukhon.

"Before there's bloodshed."