The Valley of No Return
"The food is here. Please, help yourselves."
After finishing his meal, Ilyang sipped his tea and waited for his subordinates, who had gone to secure a carriage, to finish eating.
Once they completed their brief preparations, they set off immediately.
"You have far more drive than I expected, my young friend," Cheol Mu-geuk remarked with a hearty chuckle.
Ilyang paused.
Come to think of it, the only rest they had taken was aboard the ship.
Since then, it had been a relentless march without a single moment of respite.
He could understand why Cheol Mu-geuk had brought it up.
"I must apologize for my lack of consideration. It seems I was far too absorbed in the prospect of acquiring new knowledge."
Ilyang readily admitted his oversight.
He had been so preoccupied with analyzing the dungeons of this world that he had overlooked the finer details.
He had been neglecting the smaller things.
"Well, such passion is a good thing. I am perfectly fine, of course, but your subordinates seem to be struggling."
Looking back, the former river bandits indeed looked utterly exhausted, their faces pale and drawn.
Even though they were riding in an ox-drawn carriage, fatigue was written all over their faces.
Realizing his mistake, Ilyang scanned their surroundings.
"The sun is about to set, so let us rest here for the night."
"Let's do that."
"Since I have caused such inconvenience, allow me to make amends with a small trick."
"A small trick?"
Ilyang flicked his wrist, conjuring a gentle breeze in the clearing beside the main road.
Whoosh!
Fallen leaves and loose pebbles scattered across the clearing were instantly swept up by the wind.
Cheol Mu-geuk's eyebrows twitched.
"Oh!"
"Is this... a spell?"
Just as Cheol Mu-geuk's disciples began to marvel at the sudden display of natural phenomena—
Rumble—
The uneven, rocky ground flattened itself out, and a sudden wave of intense heat swept over the dirt.
In an instant, all the weeds and debris vanished, leaving behind a perfectly flat, neat clearing.
A spot that had been overgrown with wild grass and jagged rocks just moments ago had been made pristine in the blink of an eye.
"Whoa..."
"This... this is truly incredible."
Cheol Mu-geuk's first disciple, Yong Seol-ak, and second disciple, Ju Mok-dan—both of whom had been subtly looking down on Ilyang—gaped in astonishment.
Seeing this, Yang Cheon-jo puffed out his chest and boasted.
"Bwahaha! Did you see that, senior brothers? That is the immortal magic of our Ilyang!"
"Why are you the one bragging about it?"
"Ah, senior brother! This kid and I aren't just anyone! We're so close we once shared the deep bond of father and son!"
"I did hear that you failed miserably as his son, though."
"Hey, can we please forget about that already..."
Watching Yang Cheon-jo and his senior brothers bicker with a faint smile, Ilyang suddenly felt a strange sense of familiarity. A hazy memory of a similar experience from his past flickered in his mind, causing him to tilt his head.
What was that?
Once again, he felt a blank space in his memories.
This was a highly unusual sensation for him.
An archmage's memory was on an entirely different level compared to that of ordinary humans.
To have something slip his mind or to feel a void in his recollection was incredibly jarring.
But just as he felt on the verge of grasping it—
Yang Cheon-jo's second senior brother,
Ju Mok-dan, asked a question.
"So, Young Master Il, do we pitch our tents here, spend the night, and set off tomorrow?"
"...Yes, that would be best."
As Ilyang pushed down the lingering sense of regret and answered, Cheol Mu-geuk, who had been quietly lost in thought, suddenly stood up.
He walked over to the spot where the ground still radiated warmth, standing there in silence with his eyes closed.
Is it truly possible to manipulate external energy so naturally and at will? Or is it because it is a spell, operating on a completely different principle from martial arts?
While his disciples had merely marveled at the visual spectacle of the spell, Cheol Mu-geuk saw deeper.
He had realized that the technique did not rely on internal energy, but rather drew upon the forces of the external world.
Like the resonance of sound...
Using a tiny spark of internal energy to stir the vast external atmosphere, transforming it into a much greater force.
It was like using a lever—moving a massive weight with a fraction of the effort.
This concept was remarkably similar to one of the most profound realizations in martial arts: deflecting a thousand catties with four ounces. As the parallel struck him, Cheol Mu-geuk sank deeper into contemplation.
Meanwhile, showing no signs of fatigue, Ilyang directed his subordinates to prepare dinner.
Bubble, bubble—
They gathered for a simple meal, eating a stew made of dried rations and jerky, supplemented by dried fruits they had brought along.
"By the way, is it really hard to learn that kind of magic?"
When Yang Cheon-jo asked the question in passing, Ilyang looked up. He realized that everyone's eyes were fixed on him, brimming with curiosity.
Even Cheol Mu-geuk, who pretended to be lost in his own thoughts, was clearly straining his ears to listen.
Ilyang brought his wooden teacup to his lips and replied nonchalantly.
"The spells you speak of and the magic I use are entirely different."
"How are they different?"
"It seems you weren't paying attention when I explained this on the ship. I didn't expect much from you to begin with, but hearing the same question from the same person twice is deeply disappointing."
"Wait, really? Did you? Why don't I remember that?"
Of course he didn't.
Ilyang had never mentioned it, so there was nothing to remember.
Leaving the bewildered Yang Cheon-jo to his confusion, Ilyang took a sip of his tea and continued.
"What I practice is a field of study called magic. It is treated differently from Eastern sorcery. While they share some superficial similarities, they are fundamentally distinct. I hear sorcery requires something called 'immortal roots,' but magic has no such prerequisite. However, one must be exceptionally intelligent to learn it."
"Oh? Then what about me?"
"You've failed to listen to me yet again. I said one must be intelligent. Therefore, you cannot."
"Hey! You really underestimate me. Let me tell you just how smart I am..."
Indignant, Yang Cheon-jo spent the rest of the meal boasting about his brilliance by the campfire, but Ilyang simply let it go in one ear and out the other.
Turning his gaze to Cheol Mu-geuk, who was still deeply immersed in his thoughts, Ilyang spoke.
"I shall see you in the morning, senior."
"Hmm..."
Ilyang entered his tent, unfolded the cot he had brought in the carriage, and lay down.
Outside, Cheol Mu-geuk still wore a grave expression, unable to hide his inner turmoil.
That is a threshold he must cross on his own.
Just by looking at his face, Ilyang could guess the nature of Cheol Mu-geuk's struggle.
The martial artist was likely thinking that if he could witness magic just one more time, he might grasp the key.
But that would only decrease his chances.
Showing him magic a hundred or a thousand more times in his current state would only breed confusion.
What he needed now was to crystallize the questions in his mind and fully comprehend them through his own efforts.
Thus, Ilyang had no reason to display his magic further.
In fact, a sudden demonstration might disrupt the man's path to enlightenment.
That was why Ilyang had refrained from using magic even while preparing dinner.
And so, Cheol Mu-geuk spent the entire night agonizing, replaying the flow of magic he had witnessed.
This continued well into the next morning.
"Are you awake?"
"Hmm..."
Even as the sun rose and they prepared to set off, Cheol Mu-geuk's complexion remained dark and sallow.
The toll of a sleepless night spent in deep contemplation was written clearly on his face.
For a master of his caliber, it was extremely rare for their physical condition to deteriorate to such an extent.
That he looked this haggard was proof of the immense mental energy he had expended.
He had even skipped breakfast.
In that state, Cheol Mu-geuk merely stared blankly ahead, his eyes slightly unfocused as he remained locked in his thoughts.
He has certainly hit a wall.
Whether he could scale it was anyone's guess.
Most martial artists died without ever realizing such a wall even existed.
"You all wait here."
Having finished his breakfast, Ilyang ordered his subordinates to remain in the clearing where they had camped.
He then set off quietly along the mountain path, accompanied only by Cheol Mu-geuk and his disciples.
At some point along the way,
"Sigh..."
A subtle shift occurred in Cheol Mu-geuk, who was walking ahead.
Ilyang, who had been observing him closely, clicked his tongue inwardly.
He missed it.
The elusive truth that had been just within his grasp had slipped away entirely.
Sensing the profound regret and emptiness radiating from the man, Ilyang nodded silently.
Still, this experience would undoubtedly serve him well in the future.
After all, Ilyang could see that the threshold of enlightenment was drawing nearer.
Though with these matters, nothing is ever guaranteed.
Every path to enlightenment was unique.
Putting his thoughts aside, Ilyang watched with interest as Cheol Mu-geuk slowly began to check his own physical condition.
After another half-day of trekking through the mountains,
their surroundings suddenly grew so dark that the sky was completely obscured.
Cheol Mu-geuk came to a halt.
Staring into the distance, he spoke.
"It is there."
"Mmm..."
"Oh!"
"So that is the..."
Whoosh—
Ilyang narrowed his eyes as a bleak, chilly wind swept past his forehead from behind.
Sure enough, a massive canyon stretched out before them.
It was an overwhelming abyss, too vast to be taken in with a single glance.
It possessed a menacing grandeur, looking as though a colossal giant had cleaved the earth with a titanic axe.
It was a sight that inspired a sense of awe.
Strangely, even though the sun was still high in the sky,
the depths of the canyon were shrouded in a thick, impenetrable haze.
"About half a year ago, this massive canyon appeared overnight, accompanied by a sound like a thunderclap. I hear that of those who ventured inside out of curiosity, not a single soul has returned alive."
"How strange. How did you manage to keep such a place from becoming common knowledge?"
A bizarre canyon had suddenly formed in the middle of a mountain, and people had gone missing.
Yet, no rumors had spread?
Given the sheer scale of the canyon, which defied the eye, this was not something a few individuals could cover up simply by controlling rumors.
Seeing Ilyang's skepticism, Cheol Mu-geuk nodded.
"This mountain belongs to my clan. We own half of the mines in the Jinan Mountain Range."
"Ah..."
That explained it.
Having understood, Ilyang looked at Cheol Mu-geuk, the Three Absolute of Heaven's Path, with a fresh perspective.
After all, the man usually dressed like a rugged wanderer.
He wore nothing but coarse gray robes, leaving even Ilyang completely unaware of his wealthy background.
It seems he was quite the wealthy young master.
While Ilyang was indulging in these idle thoughts,
two figures suddenly emerged from the shadows of the rocks flanking the canyon's entrance. They approached and bowed respectfully to Cheol Mu-geuk.
"Greetings, Uncle."
"Greetings, Grandmaster."
"Yes. You have done well guarding this place. You may return now."
"Actually... the Clan Leader ordered us never to leave the entrance of Bulhoe Valley."
"Hmm? What do you mean?"
"He said that even if you successfully conquer the pocket dimension, you might still require assistance upon your return, so we were told to wait."
"Jeong-myeong ordered that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. It is dangerous inside, so remain at the entrance."
"Understood, Grandmaster."
Ilyang listened to the exchange with an amused expression.
It seemed they had named this place Bulhoe Valley—the Valley of No Return.
The Valley of No Return.
As Ilyang mused on the rather poetic name,
Cheol Mu-geuk, standing at the entrance of the pocket dimension, spoke.
"Well? Is it truly a pocket dimension?"
Did he summon me here without even being certain?
Ilyang gave him a slightly exasperated look, but on second thought, realized there was hardly any need for doubt.
"Yes. It is indeed a pocket dimension."
A dangerous, insidious energy was creeping out from the canyon—one that only a master of high caliber could perceive.
It would be absurd not to recognize it as a pocket dimension after sensing this.
But this exceeds my expectations.
The scale of this dungeon was far greater than he had anticipated.
Consequently, a broad grin had been plastered across Ilyang's face for some time.
The thought of what extraordinary treasures might lie within made his heart race with excitement.
The larger and more hazardous a dungeon, the higher the grade of the treasures hidden inside.
Initially, he had held no great expectations, thinking it would be enough to simply study the structure of this world's dungeons.
But this might yield a bountiful harvest.
Ilyang stepped up beside Cheol Mu-geuk and extended his right hand.
"Then, let us enter."
"I leave it to you."
His fingertips brushed against the boundary of the pocket dimension.
Sensing the division between the inside and the outside,
Ilyang's eyes gleamed as he analyzed the structure of the barrier.
How intriguing.
A set of "rules" governed this place.
If one were to blindly force their way inside from the outside,
they would have wandered endlessly through the labyrinth within until they died of exhaustion.
But that was merely the superficial trap of this pocket dimension.
Its true form lay deeper.
The spaces are layered.
Spatial distortion.
This was a feat impossible without highly advanced magical knowledge.
Standing outside the boundary, Ilyang smiled as he estimated the layout of the pocket dimension.
Both its scale and the method of its creation... are remarkably sophisticated.
In terms of craftsmanship, this was easily an A-grade spell.
And that fact revealed a single truth to Ilyang.
This means there was once a properly trained mage in this world as well.
What method did they use to cast their spells?
Regrettably, at Ilyang's current level, the structure and aesthetic of the magic appeared incredibly faint from the outside.
He had no choice but to step inside to examine it properly.
Creak—
Ilyang grasped a point in the empty air and slowly twisted his hand to the left, as if turning a doorknob.
At that moment,
Hum—
a circular opening tore through the thick fog before them.
"Shall we?"
Though he had no idea what dangers or traps awaited them inside,
the face of the boy leading the way was flushed with the burning excitement of a youth on his way to meet his first love.