Cutting the Heavens (2)
"Begin!"
At Cheon Seonhak's shout, the wooden sword in Cheon Muyang's hand shot toward the sky.
It was the very stance he had used countless times in the corner of the training grounds—a posture optimized purely for cutting.
Look at this bastard.
But Lee Seokgi let his guard down.
Watching this plainly, Cheon Muyang inwardly mocked the daydreaming Lee Seokgi.
"Idiot."
"Huh?"
The slashes Cheon Muyang had practiced for nearly a month—
Lee Seokgi and all the trainees had watched them countless times.
That's why he's careless.
On the surface, it looked like nothing more than a slow, simple cut.
Thud!
A dull impact echoed.
The downward strike surged like lightning and smashed directly into Lee Seokgi's crown.
"Kuhk!"
Lee Seokgi's vision blurred.
In his fading sight, he saw Cheon Muyang's lips curl upward.
This… fuck.
Thump.
Lee Seokgi collapsed, unconscious.
That was the end.
The outcome of the duel—shockingly—was decided in a single exchange.
"If I had my way, this would've been a real blade instead of a wooden one. But for today, I'll let you off with this."
Murmuring quietly to the fallen Lee Seokgi, Cheon Muyang inhaled the strangely silent air around him.
"Hoo…"
Cheon Seonhak stepped forward.
Presumably to declare the result.
But Cheon Muyang thought otherwise.
"I know all the resentment directed at me."
"…!"
Cheon Seonhak halted.
Ignoring the reaction, Cheon Muyang continued.
"The mistakes I made in the past—the wrongs I committed—can't be erased by anything. I acknowledge all of them. I was, without question, a brute and a piece of trash."
Silence fell.
Not even the sound of breathing could be heard.
"I can't remember every single one. I don't remember the faces of those I wronged."
Because those sins belonged to Cheon Muyang—
Not to the nameless man he once was.
Yet, Mu-myeong chose to bear that burden in Cheon Muyang's place.
Because I am Cheon Muyang.
Cheon Muyang looked each person gathered there in the eye.
Some still stared at him with contempt.
Others watched warily, trying to read his true intentions.
"But here today, I apologize for every act of madness and cruelty I committed."
Cheon Muyang slowly bowed his head.
Time passed in silence.
When he lifted his head again—
He could feel that some of the gazes upon him had changed.
"If your anger still hasn't cooled, come to the training grounds anytime."
"…."
"I'll be here."
With those words, Cheon Muyang walked straight across the training grounds.
Wolyeong followed behind him.
"…."
Watching his retreating back, Cheon Seonhak fell into thought.
"Has he truly changed?"
He couldn't yet be certain.
But unlike before, Cheon Seonhak's gaze no longer held only contempt and disdain.
"Ugh…"
Something twitched on the ground.
It was Lee Seokgi, groaning as he slowly regained consciousness.
Cheon Seonhak clicked his tongue.
"Tsk. Remove him."
The contempt and scorn were now directed squarely at Lee Seokgi instead.
What should have been an opportunity had turned into a fall into the abyss.
"We're leaving."
Cheon Seonhak departed.
The leaders of the Cheon Dragon Sword Corps and the Cheon Phoenix Sword Corps followed after him.
"What? It's already over?"
Lee Seokgi screamed in disbelief.
"I lost in one hit? That makes no sense!"
But his cries were swallowed whole.
Cheon Muyang didn't particularly feel like resting.
Though it had been called a duel, he had only swung his sword once.
But having exited like that—
Returning to the training grounds would've looked strange.
"Looks like I'll have to settle for breath circulation and meditation today."
"You need days like this too," Wolyeong said.
"Do I? Come to think of it, I asked you yesterday to watch the duel and give me your thoughts… but there wasn't much to watch."
If anything, it was embarrassing.
All he'd shown was a single cut.
But Wolyeong's reaction was different.
"That was the same sword you showed before, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. That's right."
"In my opinion, even if he hadn't let his guard down, he still wouldn't have been able to block it."
"You think so?"
"Yes!"
Cheon Muyang smiled.
That was when—
He sensed someone outside his room.
"I'm coming in."
It was Cheon Seonhak.
Cheon Muyang faced him as Cheon Seonhak entered without waiting for permission.
"Ah— I'll prepare tea. Not liquor," Wolyeong said, excusing herself.
"She's perceptive," Cheon Seonhak remarked.
"She's far too capable to be just my personal maid."
"The sword you showed today."
"…."
"What was it you sought to cut?"
"The heavens. I sought to cut the heavens."
Cheon Seonhak's eyes trembled ever so slightly.
Cutting the heavens—Dancheon (斷天).
It was Cheon Seonhak's own aspiration.
The very path of the sword he still pursued even now.
"The heavens…"
How absurd.
To think the one who understood his path—
Was Cheon Muyang, whom he had long despised and already given up on.
"Life truly is unpredictable. That saying fits perfectly."
Letting out a hollow laugh, Cheon Seonhak looked at Cheon Muyang with solemn eyes.
"What you said at the training grounds."
"Yes."
"Can you take responsibility for it?"
"If I didn't intend to, I wouldn't have said it."
"Good. It should be that way."
"Is that all?"
"You won the wager."
"…!"
"Tell me what you want. I'll grant it."
"Permission to enter the Cheon Dragon Arch—"
Cheon Seonhak rejected it instantly.
"That is not within my authority."
"I see…"
"If it's within my authority, I'll grant anything."
Cheon Muyang thought carefully.
What was it he needed most right now?
There's no training better than real combat…
A spark flashed through his mind.
He grinned.
"Assign me one opponent per day for a duel."
"…Will that be enough?"
"Yes. More than enough."
"…You'll grow stronger every day."
"That's exactly what I want."
Without another word, Cheon Seonhak rose from his seat.
"I'll be going."
"Yes. Safe travels, Uncle."
"…."
It seemed he still had something to say—
But in the end, Cheon Seonhak left without speaking another word.
"What was that about?"
Cheon Muryang merely shrugged.
Since there was still some time before Wolyeong—who had tactfully stepped away after Cheon Seonhak's departure—returned, he focused on regulating his internal energy.
"No point lazing around. Gotta stay diligent."
His consciousness sank deep within.
From that day on,
Cheon Muryang's daily routine changed.
He still ran around the training grounds and swung his sword as before, but now he also had to spar—without fail—with trainees personally designated by Cheon Seonhak.
"Why the hell do I have to do this?"
On the first day, Cha Myeonghak—who had been named as his opponent—cursed Lee Seokgi under his breath.
"Figures. Ever since that bastard became top trainee, he's been acting all high and mighty. Doesn't even know his own limits."
Cha Myeonghak bore a grudge against Cheon Muryang.
"No—this is actually perfect. I get to stomp him legally."
When he had first joined as a trainee,
Cha Myeonghak had witnessed the Eldest Young Master drunkenly causing a scene.
That had been his first encounter with Cheon Muryang.
"That lunatic bastard."
Swinging a sword wildly while drunk—he had looked every bit like a madman.
When Cha Myeonghak tried to stop him, he was left with a scar on his face that would never fade.
"I'll pretend it's an accident and leave a scar on you too."
How could he forget such a vile connection?
Cha Myeonghak harbored malice.
Upon arriving at the training grounds, he searched for Cheon Muryang.
He spotted him swinging his sword—still fat, though noticeably slimmer than before.
"..."
Standing at the center of the grounds, Cha Myeonghak expected Cheon Muryang to stop.
Surely he had sensed his presence.
"..."
But no matter how long he waited, Cheon Muryang didn't stop.
Cha Myeonghak felt insulted.
Crack!
His brow furrowed sharply.
At that moment, a faint scent of tea drifted through the air.
Whoosh!
He turned his head.
A maid was calmly pouring tea.
"Ah…"
It was Wolyeong.
Holding a cup, she approached Cha Myeonghak.
"Please have some tea while you wait. It might take a while—he's only just begun."
"W-What did you say?"
"Once he starts training, he doesn't really notice his surroundings."
"..."
"I've also prepared some snacks!"
Before he knew it, Cha Myeonghak found himself eating the refreshments, oddly led along by Wolyeong.
"He trains like this every day?"
"Yes. Sometimes I worry he might collapse."
"..."
Despite her words, Wolyeong watched Cheon Muryang with unmistakable pride.
"You're his personal maid?"
"Yes."
"You must've suffered a lot. Why do you support him?"
"The Young Master made many mistakes in the past, that's true. But he's changed. He's swinging his sword now to correct those mistakes."
"..."
Cha Myeonghak mulled over her words.
"Correcting mistakes…"
He looked at Cheon Muryang anew.
Seen again, the body he'd dismissed as pig-like somehow looked solid instead.
I'll admit the effort.
It wasn't fake.
He'd seen it himself.
Scratch.
A dull ache flared between Cha Myeonghak's brows.
Something felt off—like his nerves were being scraped.
His body tensed instinctively.
Probably just nerves, he thought.
So he watched more closely.
Whooong!
The sword sliced through the air.
Now that I think about it…
The speed was incredibly consistent.
Cha Myeonghak studied Cheon Muryang's form.
A chill ran up his spine.
Goosebumps erupted.
Not even the slightest deviation.
It wasn't just the speed.
The trajectory.The height of the swing.The stopping point.Foot placement.Force distribution.Even the grip on the hilt—
Everything is identical.
How was that possible?
Even elite warriors trained to perfection couldn't replicate movements this precisely.
H-How… how does a lunatic like him wield such a sword?
The prejudice surrounding Cha Myeonghak shattered.
And then he realized where Cheon Muryang's sword was headed.
D-Don't tell me…
He rubbed his brow again.
Whoom!
It burned.
As if a sharp blade hovered right before his forehead.
From the very beginning… was he swinging his sword at me?
Even now,
Cheon Muryang's wooden sword was descending toward him.
"Th-This…"
What could one even call this?
Cha Myeonghak was speechless.
The duel had already begun the moment he stepped onto the training grounds.
His head dropped.
Just then—
"Ah, I got a bit too focused."
Cheon Muryang's voice rang out as he stopped training.
"You came to spar with me, right? Nice to meet you, Cha Myeonghak."
"…!"
Cha Myeonghak's eyes widened.
How did he know his name?
"H-How do you know my name?"
"Well, you're going to become a formal warrior of the clan someday, right? I'm trying to memorize names when I can."
Back when he was Mu-myeong, Cheon Muryang had trained under Cheon Seonhak and formed connections with members of the Cheonryong and Cheonbong Sword Corps.
That was how he'd known Neung Ryeoun's name.
Cha Myeonghak, too, was destined for the Cheonryong Sword Corps.
"..."
"So, shall we begin?"
"I admit defeat."
"Huh? What did you say?"
Cheon Muryang doubted his ears.
Who comes to fight and concedes before the duel even starts?
"I acknowledge my defeat, Young Master."
Was he mocking him?
But Cha Myeonghak's solemn expression as he bowed spoke only sincerity.
Cheon Muryang glanced sideways at Wolyeong.
[I. Don't. Know. Either.]
She mouthed back.
She had no idea why he was acting this way either.
He seemed so hostile, I just offered him tea… Did I do something wrong?
She could only doubt herself.
"Uh, but still… shouldn't we spar…?"
"I will challenge you properly once I've prepared myself."
With that, Cha Myeonghak bowed deeply and left the training grounds.
"Tch… what in the world just happened?"
Wolyeong approached, looking distressed.
"Could it be that the tea I made tasted bad…?"
"Hey, no way."
Instead of sparring,
Cheon Muryang devoured Wolyeong's snacks.
"Stop eating!"
"You told me to eat them!"
"I'm worried you'll gain the weight back!"