Beyond Even My Imagination
'The young master has changed.'
Ella's mind was filled with that single thought as she walked down the corridor, tray of empty bowls in hand.
Just yesterday, Cael had been so prickly. He'd fly into rages when she brought his food, hurling it across the room, spewing vicious insults and demanding to be left alone. The young master had been so frail, on the verge of death at any moment.
Yet after holding his breath for thirty whole minutes and miraculously coming back to life, he'd scraped every last bit from a bowl of thin porridge. And for the next meal, he'd barked—no, asked—for double portions.
Did something happen to his head?
She'd heard a scary story once: if someone stopped breathing for too long, their brain could get damaged. Clearly, the young master was suffering some horrific aftereffect. His speech had turned strangely archaic, like an old man's, and his eyes had grown terrifyingly sharp.
But...
Still... he's so much better now. Hehe...
A small smile crept across Ella's lips. She truly pitied and cherished Cael. The forsaken young master of the Restis family, abandoned in this remote annex on the edge of the estate where no one ever visited.
When she'd first joined the household as a child, fumbling through mistakes left and right, Cael had been the only one to offer her kind words.
—Don't cry, kiddo. Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is vowing not to repeat them.
Those warm words from his small frame, patting her shoulder. That memory alone had sustained her through the bleak isolation of the annex.
He called me a kid when he was one himself...
Recalling that tender moment, Ella clenched her fists and pumped them in the air with a quiet shout.
"Alright! Let's work even harder! So the young master can truly get healthy! You can do it, Ella!"
As she headed to the kitchen, someone called out from behind.
"Hey, Ella. Did the young master leave his meal untouched again today?"
Ella turned. There stood a brown-haired young man in worn leather armor—the annex guard, Weger.
This tiny annex sat in the most forgotten corner of the vast Restis estate. Only two people tended it and cared for Cael: Ella, the maid and housekeeper, and Weger, the guard who handled all the odd jobs.
Ella beamed at him.
"Nope! The young master finally finished it all!"
"What? F-For real?"
Weger's eyes bulged.
"Totally! He even said to make lunch double—nice and hearty!"
"N-No way! That Cael young master!?"
Weger stared in disbelief at the spotless empty bowl in her hands.
"Hehe, yep. So you better shape up too! He might spring up any minute and yell, 'Weger, you slacker! Can't you guard properly!?'"
Ella mimicked Cael with a mock stern face.
The two sole servants of the sickly young master shared a peculiar camaraderie, a tight bond. The news that Cael had eaten everything was worth more than any treasure to them.
Weger's steps suddenly quickened.
"C-Crap, not the time to slack! Th-The garden! The front courtyard garden he loves most—it's not done yet!"
It was a small, humble garden, but on rare good days, Cael would wheel out to bask in the sun. Of course, worsening illness had kept him from even looking at it these past months.
"What? You using the garden as an excuse to goof off?"
"No way! I'm going for real! Oliver's on gate duty!"
Oliver. The only other "family" in this barren annex alongside Weger and Ella—a massive retriever dog.
"Yeah! Honestly, Oliver's a hundred times more reliable than you!"
Ella smirked at Weger's sturdy retreating back as he dashed outside.
"Alright, then I'll whip up the daily report for the lord quick and start prepping lunch. Oh, and air out the annex while I'm at it—time for a good cleaning!"
For the first time in ages, the annex buzzed with energy.
"Urgh..."
A pained groan escaped Cheon Woo-jin's lips as he sat cross-legged on the bed.
Tai Chi Profound Heaven Heart Method. The legendary Taoist martial art said to have been created in his later years by Jang Sam-bong, the founder of the Wudang Sect. Its reputation alone rivaled the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
Not just Wudang disciples—even righteous and demonic sects alike, every martial artist in the world sought this lost manual. Yet no one found it, buried deep in the Heavenly Demon Cult's underground vault.
Even operating this supremely stable, side-effect-free pure method, sweat poured from Woo-jin's body like rain.
From the Sea of Qi acupoint... then Curved Pool, and... up to the Middle Cinnabar Field. Urgh!
Excruciatingly slow. Meticulous, imposing no strain whatsoever. Like handling a soaked, tear-prone tissue.
Cheon Woo-jin focused every ounce of will, guiding the faint energy through his body. Unblocking sealed meridians brought agony like ripping flesh. But he stayed conscious.
For he'd discovered something amid the pain that made him smile.
This world's atmospheric energy... several times denser and purer than the Central Plains.
Natural spiritual energy, or mana. The ambient power in this fantasy world differed qualitatively and quantitatively from his martial realm.
Far richer, untainted purity.
With energy this dense, I'll recover realms faster than expected. Small mercy.
Even in torment, curiosity stirred in Woo-jin's mind. How strong were knights and mages born and raised in such an environment?
He'd read the novel Sword, Public, Collection, but its fights mirrored Heavenly Demon Lone Journey. Same author, same style.
But after fifty years tumbling through the martial world, he knew: reading words differed vastly from clashing blades and spilling blood.
And one more thing. A word that set Woo-jin's blood aflame.
Dragons exist on this continent.
Unrivaled supremacy. Beings beyond human reach. For the first time in decades, since boredom gripped the world's greatest, his heart quickened.
First, recover energy. Not even sure if I'm truly in that sword-noble duke's bloodline from the novel.
Cael—a minor name, not the protagonist. He'd probe Ella on family matters when she returned.
Clearing stray thoughts, Woo-jin opened basic channels and fully circulated the Tai Chi Profound Heaven Heart Method.
Hummm—
The still air in the room grew heavy, swirling. Clear, nature-like energy—unlike demonic qi—flowed in through his breaths to the dantian.
Like gentle drizzle on cracked Eight Extraordinary Meridians. The pure energy dissolved clotted waste and impurities clinging to vessel walls, pressing forward.
Sequentially unblocking stalled channels for a full-body Minor Heavenly Circulation. Pleasant warmth rose from Woo-jin's torso.
Bone-deep screams faded, replaced by soothing pleasure. Five Minor Circulations repeated. Scattered energy gathered like droplets, forming thicker streams.
Finally, piercing all acupoints for the Major Heavenly Circulation.
Boom—
A heavy rupture echoed within. One Major and five Minor. Enduring that grueling process birthed a tiny change in the empty lower dantian.
Faint heat gathered energy into a translucent pearl, rice-grain sized. Clear and pristine.
Dantian awakening. The foundational vessel for any martial artist.
Tiny, but its purity shamed ordinary cultivators.
Incredible. Such pure energy...
Condensation of the Heavenly Demon's ultimate enlightenment and the heart method's essence.
Whew... lucky. At least I won't drop dead immediately.
Cheon Woo-jin steadied his breath and snapped open his eyes.
The sight that greeted him nearly made Cheon Woo-jin gasp.
Ella's eyes brimmed with tears, on the verge of wailing. Beside her, a brown-haired man in shabby leather armor and soldier garb wore equal worry. And between their legs, a massive furry dog wagged its tail furiously.
"Hm?"
Woo-jin blinked at the odd trio.
They shrieked almost in unison at his voice.
"Y-Y-Young master!! Are you okay!? You're conscious!?"
As Ella lunged in a frenzy, Woo-jin scowled and raised a hand to halt her.
"I'm fine. No fussing. What in blazes is going on?"
His calm query burst Ella's dam.
"W-Waaah! Y-Young master, you're weird! You've really gone all weird!"
She collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably, snot and all.
Cheon Woo-jin, who'd reigned solitary for decades atop Matheonru Tower in the Shipman Mountains, faced a scene unseen in half a century: a youth bawling.
His eyes darted in flustered panic.
"Wh-What is it, Ella? Why the sudden waterworks?"
The fidgeting brown-haired man—Weger—spoke gravely.
"Young master. You're truly alright? No pains anywhere?"
"I said I'm fine."
"But... you've sat like that for three days and nights. No food, no water, not a twitch."
Woo-jin's brow twitched.
"Three days?"
"Woof! Woof! Pant pant!!"
Even Oliver, staring blankly, barked twice in agreement, tail wagging.
Three days... for meditation?
Woo-jin stared at his hands in disbelief. One Major, five Minor. Basic circulation.
In his Heavenly Demon days, it'd take a blink. Yet this body needed three days?
This damn husk...
Despair swallowed him. It's trash beyond even my wildest imagination...
The absolute Heavenly Demon's profound sigh filled the frail young master's room.
"That aside... who are you?"
He eyed Weger. Ella's wails intensified.
"Our young master's done for! He doesn't even recognize Weger now! Waaah!"
Woo-jin swallowed bitter regret inwardly.
Damn it all. How do you handle a crying girl?
The world's supreme lord floundered at one maiden's tears.