The Wall of the Absolute Peak
Enlightenment.
"No. This... this is... what on earth—"
Ansong's mouth hung open as he stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief. He was so stunned he was actually stammering, which was honestly kind of entertaining to watch.
"Do you know what just happened, Young Lord? You just—"
"I broke through the wall of the Absolute Peak."
"......"
Ansong barely managed to shut his mouth and fell silent. I suppose it was hard to comprehend. To be honest, my own head wasn't quite wrapping around my current state either.
I'd spoken to Ansong with practiced calm, but in truth, I was dazed. I had been trying to craft a new sword art using the principles of the Two-Point Combat Stance, and instead, I'd shattered the wall of the Absolute Peak.
A master of the Absolute Peak.
I'd fought plenty of them before. I'd even beaten some. But defeating an Absolute Peak master and standing at that realm myself were two entirely different things.
After all, in my previous life I'd brushed the very edge of the First Rate, so reaching the realm itself in this young body was only natural. The problem had simply been that my body and internal energy couldn't support it, leaving me stuck in the Second Rate.
'I never expected to arrive this quickly, though.'
I'd figured I'd touch the Absolute Peak sometime before my closed-door training ended. Achieving it literally overnight? That hadn't crossed my mind for a second.
Come to think of it, that persistent itch at the back of my skull must have been my dantian opening up right before the breakthrough.
Replaying the moment in my head, I could confirm it — that had been enlightenment. All this time I'd assumed my insufficient internal energy was what kept me from the Absolute Peak. Now I could see that was never the case.
'I got so reliant on reverse-scaling that I treated enlightenment itself as some cheap trick.'
The truly important thing had been something else entirely. Somewhere between my previous life and this very moment, I'd apparently taken a wrong turn on the road to the Absolute Peak.
"Whew."
Feeling a touch hollow, I let out a long sigh. If only I'd taken the right path, I could have reached the Absolute Peak in my past life too.
...But what's done is done. Better to have realized it now than never, I told myself, and let the regret go.
Ansong was still standing there in silence. He must have taken quite the shock.
I clenched and unclenched my fist once, then called out to him. I wanted to test, with my own hands, what this realm called Absolute Peak actually felt like.
"Ansong. Want to spar a round?"
"A spar... you say?"
Caught completely off guard, Ansong repeated the words in flustered confusion. He could be as rattled as he liked now — before long, he'd be the one groveling to me for a bout.
"You want to know too, don't you? Whether my realm is truly the Absolute Peak."
"......"
When I drew the sword I'd already sheathed, Ansong's hand found the hilt of his own as if on instinct.
Shing.
Pretending he'd only relented to my insistence, Ansong drew his blade and took his stance before me. Hearing my words seemed to snap him out of his daze — now he was practically bouncing, eager to cross swords as soon as possible.
For a martial artist, facing a new opponent is pure joy. So how must it feel for Ansong, getting to experience that fresh thrill twice with the same person?
'Happier than a man has any right to be, I'd wager.'
Ansong's whole body was trembling with the urge to start immediately. And yet he never accepted the spar.
"You need to rest first. Your condition right now is... well, it isn't good."
Fair point. My hands were in such a state I genuinely couldn't tell whether I was holding a fist or a clump of dried blood, and my head swam with dizziness. Probably from going so long without sleep.
But now was the perfect time. Only now, with the sensation of shattering the Absolute Peak still fresh in my veins.
"No. This is exactly the state I need. You know why, don't you?"
His duty as my bodyguard and his instincts as my senior in the murim collided, and Ansong closed his eyes, wrestling with the decision. Before long, he reached one and opened his eyes.
"As long as you don't push yourself too hard."
'I'm already pushing myself too hard, but sure.'
Swallowing the retort, I said nothing more and launched straight into the bout. Taking it easy on the force like before, I crossed swords with Ansong — and things I'd never seen before began to emerge.
In his sword, in his footwork. Every piece of insight he'd cultivated was on display. Why he used this technique here, why he shifted that way at that exact moment.
The spar felt completely different from our previous ones, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. When the height from which you watch changes, even the same scenery looks brand new.
Roughly two hours must have passed like that. Deciding it was enough, I backed away and returned my sword to its sheath. Ansong, eyes wide, did the same.
"Truly at the Absolute Peak at this age... This is something the Wang Clan has never seen. No — Goryeo entire has never seen it."
'Technically I'm a middle-aged man, though.'
My mind had drifted along with my young body lately, but I was, by all rights, old enough to qualify as an uncle.
Once I caught my breath, rest started sounding increasingly appealing. I had no idea whether a day or two had passed, but the human animal simply breaks down without sleep.
So I went looking for a decent place to lie down — and my eye caught Seonhwa, still swinging her sword. Had she really been at it this whole time, ever since my training began?
"Why don't you take a break?"
"Mujin, you told Ansong to rest and then didn't rest yourself."
...She had a point. Nothing to say to that.
But this kid really has a sharp tongue. Talking back this freely after we'd only just gotten familiar — she was never actually shy to begin with, was she.
Whoom. Whoosh.
A sound like the wind being shredded rang out with every swing of Seonhwa's blade. Her form looked flawless, so the issue had to be strength. I found myself watching her practice with her wooden sword simply because it was adorable, and Seonhwa, noticing my gaze, spoke up.
"I caught a little of it earlier."
"Hm?"
"Your training."
"Ah. And? Was it impressive? Did I look pretty cool?"
The moment I struck that slightly smug pose, Seonhwa shook her head without hesitation. Come on, even if it's a lie, just say yes. Kids these days are far too honest.
"Not impressive. It was beautiful."
"...Beautiful? Me?"
When I pointed at myself, Seonhwa nodded and stopped swinging her sword.
"It was like watching a jewel."
For a second I wondered if she was mocking me, but one look at those earnest eyes said otherwise. Of all the things to say — my training looked like a jewel.
'Did she... sense me breaking the wall of the Absolute Peak?'
If so, it made perfect sense. Insights and realms like this are nearly impossible to put into words, so people tend to simply describe what they saw and felt, raw as it came.
I held her gaze for a moment, and Seonhwa shuffled a step away, looking mildly uncomfortable. I'd need to observe her longer to be sure, but if she truly had the talent for it, at least my closed-door cultivation wouldn't be boring.
***
"Has Mujin's plan succeeded, then?"
"It's proceeding smoothly so far. Even Choe Chunghon will find this situation difficult to counter."
Seated at the head of the hall, Wang Inho unrolled a scroll as he received the pavilion masters' reports. Every piece of intelligence on their movements under Mujin's scheme was recorded there.
When Wang Inho judged he'd read enough, he set the scroll down on the table. Instantly, everyone present straightened their posture.
"Hm. It's been a while since every last one of us gathered for a clan council."
As he stroked his beard and looked around the room, a smile crept onto Wang Inho's lips. Not only the masters of the Four Gods Pavilions — even Moyong Hu of the Royal Sword Brigade and Grand Elder Wang Gohu allowed themselves faint smiles.
That not a single member had to skip the clan council meant everything they oversaw was running without a hitch. And that, in turn, meant Choe Chunghon could no longer run wild as he pleased.
"Heh heh. Now we can finally breathe easy."
Han Taesang, Master of the Azure Dragon Pavilion, said it with a somewhat flippant chuckle. Grand Elder Wang Gohu frowned at the display but said nothing. On such a fine day, he had no wish to pick a quarrel over etiquette.
"You've all worked hard. Any other movements from Choe Chunghon?"
At Wang Inho's question, Han Taesang wiped the grin from his face and answered with proper seriousness.
"Some soldiers tried to barge in while we were handing out the rice sacks, but as you instructed, we handled it cleanly."
"Hm."
Wang Inho had told Han Taesang to invoke the royal decree if anyone dared interfere with the rice distribution. And if that didn't work — to declare them in violation of the king's order and draw his sword.
Nothing, therefore, could possibly go wrong. The moment anyone caught so much as a whiff of it, they'd flee in terror before anything could happen.
Unless, of course, Choe Chunghon went completely mad and launched a full massacre. That was the only wildcard.
"Byeokrando has shown no suspicious signs since that day either."
Gu Hanseong, Master of the Black Tortoise Pavilion, added this while carefully reading Wang Inho's expression. He'd been somewhat subdued ever since the day Mujin had nearly died.
"Good. Anything else? It doesn't have to be about Choe Chunghon — that's the whole reason I called this council."
At that, Wang Yeomsu hesitated, looking like a man unsure whether he should even say it, before finally speaking.
"Seolha says she intends to follow the Young Lord. It's quite the... situation."
"Seolha?"
"At first I thought she was simply seeing him off properly, but at some point she suddenly changed her mind."
"I understand her heart, but a closed-door cultivation is called closed for a reason. Go home and talk her around."
Clearly not the answer he'd hoped for, Wang Yeomsu sank into a gloomy frown and muttered his assent. He was probably suffering plenty at home already, but there was nothing Wang Inho could do about it.
Wang Inho had no earthly idea how to soothe a heartbroken child.
With no one else offering to speak, Wang Inho was about to dissolve the council — when Yi Uigang raised a hand, his face a picture of conflicted misery.
It was so unlike his usual commanding presence that Wang Inho motioned for him at once.
"It's about Ran... She says she means to follow the Young Lord—"
It sounded so similar to what Wang Yeomsu had said that heads tilted all around the table. Wang Yeomsu in particular rubbed his ear, wondering if he'd misheard.
"Why on earth does Ran want to follow Mujin now?"
"I have no idea. I've been trying to talk her out of it, but it's easy to say and another thing entirely to manage."
By now even Wang Inho was flustered. Not one case — two, behaving exactly the same way.
"Patriarch. Please, save me."
Moyong Hu, dark bags hanging under his eyes, spoke with trembling lips.
"What's the matter with you, then?"
"The Young Lord's personal maid keeps begging, absolutely begging, to be taken to see him. I've talked myself hoarse — every time I lie down to sleep, her voice circles in my head."
...With Nari added to the list, that made three.
Wang Inho, who had never imagined his head would ache over something other than Choe Chunghon, buried his face in his hands.
'That boy.'
Just what in the world had he been doing out there?
Meanwhile, oblivious to all of this, Mujin remained absorbed in nothing but his closed-door cultivation.