Forgiveness Has Just Begun
"Vice Master! Pull yourself together!"
"Are you all right?"
Baek Gun-ak, sprawled on the ground, snapped back to his senses and staggered to his feet. "Kuhk! You... you're Jin Cheong-un... you've finally crossed a line you can't come back from! What is the meaning of this!"
"What do you mean, what is the meaning of this?"
Jin Cheong-un tilted his head as if to say, isn't that obvious?
"You're the one who started all of this."
"...!"
The fact that the Association had put Cheongun Martial Arts Academy in dire straits, and that his disciples had suffered for it — hadn't the man before him set it all in motion?
He would end up forgiving him, of course. But until he could do so with sincerity welling up from the depths of his heart, he intended to give it his all.
With the spirit of the Foolish Old Man Who Moved Mountains.
Thud!
The instant Jin Cheong-un's foot drove into the earth —
BOOOOM!
A deafening crack split the air, like a great war drum brought down in a single strike.
The White Horse Academy martial artists, their mouths hanging agape, snapped their gazes upward in unison.
The sky was already beginning to pale with dawn. Backlit by the first rays of this morning's sun, Jin Cheong-un carved a long, graceful arc through the air as he descended.
KWAAAAAANG!
A cloud of dust erupted skyward with the impact.
And then —
"AAAAAAGH!"
"UUUAAAAGH!"
They flew.
The White Horse martial artists, caught up in the sweep without even a chance to cry out in surprise, went soaring through the air, leaving behind only echoes of their screams.
"B-block him!"
Baek Gun-ak, dignity long forgotten, shouted frantically. Those who had belatedly come to their senses drew their blades and swung razor-sharp steel at Jin Cheong-un.
Whoosh!
The club in Jin Cheong-un's grip cleaved the very air.
CRAAACK!
A sound like leather being torn apart exploded outward, and a scream stretched long and fading, like an echo rolling into the distance.
Watching one comrade fall in the blink of an eye, every martial artist of White Horse Academy felt a chill run down their spine.
But that was only the beginning.
Bam! Crash! KWAAAAANG!
The relentless clubbing continued. One man. Then another. A wooden stick knocked their blades aside, and with every blow that landed, they were given a firsthand lesson in what it felt like to be a bird — no wings required.
'M-madness! He was a master of this caliber?'
'W-we have to stop him!'
Just then —
"Hah!"
An instructor who had barely dodged a blow lunged his sword at the gap in Jin Cheong-un's guard. He couldn't hope to unleash a killing technique, of course, so he aimed to sever an arm and subdue the man instead.
'Hm.'
Jin Cheong-un considered it for a moment. Dodging felt like a waste, but blocking it outright lacked a certain elegance.
In the end, he simply extended his empty left hand, palm out, toward the blade.
CLANG!
The instructor's eyes went round as saucers, his face frozen in stunned disbelief.
"Wha—?"
It had stopped. Human flesh and a honed blade had met head-on, and the sword had been stopped dead.
The instructor frantically pulled at his hilt to retrieve the sword. In that instant, a thought flashed through Jin Cheong-un's mind, and he shifted the quality of the internal force steeping his palm — not his Heavenly River qi, but the true qi that had coiled itself into his dantian only last night.
"...!!"
A vortex of force erupted from his palm and seized the blade fast.
Ashen-faced, the instructor looked wildly back and forth between his sword and Jin Cheong-un.
Internally, Jin Cheong-un was impressed.
'So it actually works.'
He had simply imitated what practitioners of arts like the Heaven-Stealing Technique always did. Not bad, he mused, and with that brief inward assessment, he swung his club at the instructor.
"Dodge!"
Baek Gun-ak, sprinting over just in time, seized the instructor by the nape and flung them both backward.
CRASH!
The blast of displaced air whipped outward with the thunderclap. Thanks to Baek Gun-ak's quick thinking, the instructor narrowly escaped the attack — only to have the terrible misfortune of a wall standing exactly where they landed.
The instructor went headfirst into the stone and promptly fainted.
Jin Cheong-un frowned.
"Harming your own subordinate now?"
"..."
The unforeseen words rattled his composure yet again, but Baek Gun-ak straightened his blade and steadied himself.
'So this is the extent of him, then.'
If he had been felled in a single exchange by an exquisite technique, or crushed under overwhelming internal force, it might not even have surprised him. No — this man simply flew. He bounced off like a kicked ball, skipped across the ground like a stone skimming water, and went rolling head over heels.
And what he'd held in his hand wasn't even a proper weapon. Wasn't it just a chunk of rubble from a broken wall that had been lying in the dirt?
"Whoooo."
baek Gun-ak drew a long, deep breath and leveled his sword at Jin Cheong-un, eyes locked on him.
"...Fine. You seem determined to see this through to the bitter end, so I shall oblige you."
"You got beaten half to death and you're still putting on airs. Aren't you embarrassed?"
"You insolent...!"
Then it happened.
"Ah, now that I think of it."
Jin Cheong-un's eyes widened slightly, as though he'd just remembered something.
"Didn't the White Horse Academy Master ask me to discipline you in his stead?"
"What?"
"Perfect timing, then. Time for your discipline, Vice Master."
He strode forward and, without a word of preamble, swung the club.
CRRAAANG!
Baek Gun-ak took the strike head-on and ground his teeth. He did not give ground — in fact, he pushed his blade forward and locked Jin Cheong-un in a contest of raw strength, right there in the open.
"Ho."
Jin Cheong-un let out a short whistle of appreciation.
"I suppose there really is something different about you after all."
"Silence!"
Thud.
Baek Gun-ak stamped down with grave weight and flicked the club away. In the next breath, his Azure Steel Sword erupted into a thunderous triple strike.
FWAAAAAH!
Left, right, and center — a vicious sword storm, like a powerful warhorse charging headlong at him.
The White Horse Sword Art. The very sword style every student of White Horse Academy learned.
But it stood in a wholly different dimension from the blades of those students who could not pour true intent into their swords. This sword carried the essence of White Horse Academy itself — everything its rightful heir, Baek Gun-ak, had to give.
Jin Cheong-un's eyes gleamed.
'Impressive.'
A master really was a master, wasn't he? Perhaps the reason the Black Tiger Gang had never been able to run rampant in Yichang wasn't despite Baek Gun-ak's presence, but because of it.
A brilliant white qi scattered like the mane of a galloping stallion as it bore down on him.
But no horse, however mighty, had ever leapt over a castle wall.
Fwoooom!
Just as night recedes and the sky's true colors emerge at dawn, Jin Cheong-un's Heavenly River qi spread across the entire space in an instant, settling into an unshakable wall.
The Heaven-Net Wall.
The surging sword qi of the White Horse Art simply withered away, powerless, before that wall of sky.
KWAAAAAANG!
Baek Gun-ak was aghast. He hadn't been blocked, nor had his force been deflected. With a single swing, his ultimate technique was being pulverized.
'It's not over yet!'
Fwip!
He hastily slashed into an opening. The structure of the exchange — Baek Gun-ak charging head-on, Jin Cheong-un meeting him blow for blow — shattered in a heartbeat.
CRREEEAK!
And then it burst apart. The club in Jin Cheong-un's grip, unable to endure any longer, had finally splintered into pieces.
"..."
Perhaps a touch flustered, Jin Cheong-un's eyebrows twitched slightly.
Baek Gun-ak's eyes blazed.
'Now!'
What did it matter, really, whether that unremarkable stick was in the man's hands or not? But a chance was still a chance. Bloodshot, he hurled himself at Jin Cheong-un.
Slice!
A strike grazed Jin Cheong-un's forearm, and a line of blood spurted free.
Swish!
A wide-arcing blow tore the hem of his robes clean off.
CLAAAANG!
Dignity, honor, the quarrel with the Association — all of it had vanished from Baek Gun-ak's mind. He simply wanted to win. He wanted to knock that man flat on his back.
Casting off every last mask, Baek Gun-ak roared.
"I despised you! That's all it ever was!"
He remembered Jin Cheong-un trading jokes with his disciples as if they were old friends. He remembered the first assembly, when the man had spat words much like his own father's. The way they charged in, heedless of practical consequences, the moment their own were harmed. The way they barreled ahead without hesitation even when the loss was plainly obvious.
Every last bit of it sickened him.
Jin Cheong-un. That man was the living negation of everything Baek Gun-ak stood for.
KWANG!
Trail a haze of milk-white sword qi behind him, Baek Gun-ak charged.
"Today I will carve that arrogance out of you—!"
At that very moment, Baek Gun-ak saw it.
Jin Cheong-un clenching his fist — and then, far from dodging, sprinting straight at him at full speed.
A split second before his sword completed its arc, a lightning fist struck the flat of the blade with pinpoint precision.
CRACK!
The sword shot skyward, spun wildly end over end, and sailed far off behind them.
'What?'
Baek Gun-ak stared blankly down at his own empty hands. And when he jerked his gaze up —
FWAAAAAAH!
A fist like a boulder was tearing through the air straight toward him.
"...!!"
BUUUOOOOOM!
With a sound like a keg of gunpowder igniting, the world went black.
When his consciousness, which had drifted to some faraway place, returned, Baek Gun-ak was flying through the sky. And all things wingless, by nature, must fall.
CRUUUUMBLE!
"Gkk! Kkkuuuh...!"
The moment he was driven into the ground, searing pain lanced through his whole body, and Baek Gun-ak convulsed. It hurt. It hurt far, far too much. He had lived a jianghu life and suffered every wound imaginable, but he could say with certainty that he had never known pain like this.
"They say the man who dealt the fart is the first to complain about the stink."
The sneering voice burrowed into his ears.
"Kkep!"
Swallowing his agony, Baek Gun-ak shakily dragged himself upright. Jin Cheong-un, who had been striding toward him, stopped short with a look of mild surprise.
"Heogh! Hah! Jin Cheong-un... you... I'm not... done... kkuhk!"
It didn't last. Cruelly, his knees trembled and buckled without warning, and he crumpled to the ground.
From where he sat, Baek Gun-ak looked up at Jin Cheong-un with a hollow, vacant face.
He had lost.
A defeat without a shred of excuse to hide behind. So wretched, so utterly wretched, that Baek Gun-ak groaned through bloodshot eyes.
"How...?"
Himself on his knees, and Jin Cheong-un walking calmly toward him. This single moment of victory and defeat seemed to symbolize that Jin Cheong-un had been right all along — and that he had been wrong.
Blood pouring freely from nose and mouth, Baek Gun-ak screamed in anguish.
"Am I wrong, then? You... you who knows nothing...!"
Step.
Jin Cheong-un arrived before him. Under the gaze looking down at him, Baek Gun-ak's eyes trembled.
At last, Jin Cheong-un's mouth opened.
"What have you been muttering to yourself this whole time?"
"...?"
"Is your durability that poor? Passing out from a single hit."
Jin Cheong-un seized him by the collar and hoisted him up. Baek Gun-ak dangled limply from his grip and flinched.
Jin Cheong-un, eyes glittering, raised his clenched fist.
"It's not over yet."
"...?!"
"I don't know what you're going on about, but don't go striking dramatic poses like it ended with one punch."
Squeeeze.
He lifted his fist. Thick veins and split, corded muscle announced themselves in full.
"My vengeance... whoops. I mean, your forgiveness is just beginning."
Th-this madman.
Baek Gun-ak snapped back to his senses far too late and thrashed wildly —
WHAAACK!
And his consciousness vanished into the distance once more.
The common folk of Yiling Castle were abuzz.
"Hey, old friend. Have you heard about Cheongun Martial Arts Academy?"
"What amusing bit of news is it this time?"
"Well, you see — apparently the Cheongun Academy Master and the Flawless Sword had a duel at the crack of dawn!"
"No, really? Baek Gun-ak? But Cheongun Academy — where's that, now?"
"Oh, you know. The girl who took runner-up at this year's Martial Friendship Tournament — she's from Cheongun Academy."
The rumors spread. Word without legs traveled faster than the Lightfoot Steps White Horse Academy so proudly taught.
"From what I hear, the White Horse Academy Master was in the wrong first! He laid hands on Cheongun Academy's students, they say."
"Yes, yes, that's beside the point. So who won?"
A duel between jianghu martial artists. Children brawling had been entertaining enough — how much more so news of adults settling scores?
People with time on their hands chattered away with relish.
"The Flawless Sword got beaten like a stray dog, from what I hear!"
"No, really? The Cheongun Academy Master is that strong?"
"Strong, sure, but that's not the half of it — the man's a complete lunatic, I tell you. Even after the White Horse Academy Master came out to apologize and smooth things over, he beat him half to death without so much as a word of warning!"
"I heard it from Master Jang, who was heading out to the fields — apparently he beat the man until he woke him up after he'd fainted! Kept going on about forgiveness this and foolish old men that."
"My, my. Well, I understand him, all the same. If your student suffers an injustice, you avenge them — that's only proper!"
"Be that as it may, don't you think the man's a few tiles short of a roof?"
"Ohh, how terrifying."
The murmurs of the bustling market street soon clambered over even the walls of White Horse Academy itself.
And the man at the center of it all, Jin Cheong-un, was at this very moment...
"Master."
"..."
"The Martial Friendship Tournament was partly the Association's scheme, and you said our academy was what mattered most to you, didn't you?"
"..."
"Then what are you going to do about rumors like these going around?!"
Even with the sun high overhead, Jin Cheong-un rolled over in bed and spoke.
"Master is sleeping. Don't wake me."
"Ah, Masteeer!"
And so he suffered, his blanket snatched away by Jeong So-so.