Deep within Mount Daemang lie the ancient corpse of what appears to be a supreme master from a bygone era, tattered and decayed fragments of a secret manual, and a peerless spiritual medicine.
Telling others about this is easy, but making them believe it and convincing them to search for it together is an extremely difficult task.
Even I think it sounds suspicious. It's the kind of story you'd only accept if it came from some pulp novel.
What's more, I'm in a state where I can't even reveal the fact of my regression to anyone, bound by some kind of seal that came into being when I went against the flow of time.
If they asked how I knew, or who I'd heard it from, I'd be at a loss for an answer.
Of course, I did consider sneaking out alone in the middle of the night to look for it, but…
Honestly, I have no confidence in finding a path I've only heard about in the dark of night. On top of that, it would be impossible to completely fool the Qi Sense of the Vice-Captain of the Poison Blood Squad, who's been assigned as my escort.
It's one thing to always keep my Aura from leaking outward, but I'm not skilled at hiding my presence entirely like a seasoned assassin.
That was why I was pondering how to move to the cave naturally when—
I saw the Vice-Captain telling stories of his youth, with Tang So-wol listening with keen interest, and I realized.
I could do the same—share my own story and naturally steer things my way.
And as luck would have it, I had just the right story to tell, though it was a bit embarrassing.
So I rose early in the morning and asked Tang So-wol, who was tying up her hair for a light workout.
"Why don't we stay here one more day?"
"Huh? What's the matter, all of a sudden?"
"I want to look around the mountains here. …And there's also a story I'd like to share with you."
"Hmm. I don't know what story it might be, but if the young hero wishes it, I suppose staying one more day wouldn't hurt. As you said, there's nothing urgent."
Good. That was the first step taken.
***
The mountain path they began climbing right after breakfast. It wasn't particularly treacherous terrain, so Tang So-wol and the Vice-Captain of the Poison Blood Squad climbed at a leisurely pace.
Instead of the vice-captain, who rarely spoke unless something important came up, Tang So-wol asked first.
"So? What story is so important that you had to climb a mountain to tell it?"
"If I had to put it simply, it's a story from my childhood."
"Young hero Cheon still seems like a child to me now."
"…Then let's just say it's a story from when I was even younger than this."
"Heheh! I'm just joking, so don't make that face. I was only surprised because the young hero rarely talks about himself."
Tang So-wol giggled as she gently stroked my arm as if soothing a child. There were many things I wanted to say, but since it was true that I was young, I decided to just endure it.
Besides, the story I was about to tell was from when I, before the regression, had been around this age.
I let out a light sigh and opened my mouth.
"Where to begin… Right. I suppose I'll start here. I have a master."
"Well, of course you do. At the young hero Cheon's age, reaching such a martial level through talent alone would be impossible."
"But this sword art and mental cultivation method aren't my master's. I created them based on martial arts I picked up here and there."
"…Pardon?"
Tang So-wol's eyes widened, wondering what on earth he meant. But it was the truth.
The Iron Blood Faction Leader had been something like a master to me, teaching me writing and many other things, but when it came to martial arts, she had taught me nothing beyond the movement technique and how to fight.
Of course, she had pointed out the dangerous parts when she looked over my tattered sword art and mental cultivation method back then… but that was it.
It was nothing more than her giving me a lesson or two while reviewing my martial arts, and even the movement technique she passed on was something she created out of necessity during that process.
I regarded the Iron Blood Faction Leader as my master, but the reason I swallowed this fact silently until the moment she closed her eyes was precisely because of this.
Because I had never inherited her true martial arts.
Was it because I had fallen silent for a moment, lost in old memories? I let out a small laugh at the sight of Tang So-wol blinking her eyes as she waited for my next words, and continued.
"My mental cultivation method is nothing more than the Blood Wolf Technique, a third-rate martial art of the Unorthodox Sects, which I improved upon by referencing other methods I bought with money or stole over the years, and I merely refined my own enlightenment into it. As for my swordsmanship, I started with the common Three Talents Sword Technique, and after passing through all sorts of miscellaneous sword methods, I ended up creating something that is neither one thing nor another."
"…Did you just say you improved and created it?"
"It's not that grand. There was someone who corrected me whenever I strayed down the wrong path, and I didn't create something from nothing—I simply modified what already existed to suit me. If someone else were to learn my martial arts, I imagine it would be Second-Rate… at best, a first-rate level of martial art."
The power of the Crazy Wolf Life-Stealing Art depends entirely on my own enlightenment.
If one lacked my experiences, if one lacked a similar enlightenment, they would be swept away by the seething killing intent of its side effects and fall into Qi Deviation.
No matter how powerful a force is, a power that cannot be wielded with a sound mind holds no meaning at all.
My swordsmanship is no different. There are no notable techniques in my sword. It is merely a patchwork of sorts—picking out the decent parts from various sword techniques and using them as needed.
I merely unleash the right technique at the right moment, imbued with the right mystery.
If I failed to do this, my swordsmanship would degenerate into nothing more than flailing.
Tang So-wol, having heard my story, shook her head with a look of astonishment.
"To my ears, that sounds even more impressive. So this was the 'own mountain' you spoke of when you refused my father's proposal the other day."
"That's right. Though I can hardly agree with the word 'impressive.' I suspect this is a difference in perspective. I'm not well-versed in the martial arts of the Orthodox Sects, but I've heard that in proper techniques, each and every move carries its own meaning."
But to me, a technique—no matter how refined a method—is nothing more than a knack for killing people well.
I cannot help but hold a different attitude from those who treat martial arts as a means of pursuing the Dao and savor their meaning, or those who inherit martial arts and develop them, dreaming of the endless revival of their clan.
That is why I broke the techniques apart.
The sword arts I know are, at best, only at the level of third-rate to first-rate, but every martial art possesses its own inherent truth.
It's merely that the level of that truth and how well one has absorbed it divides the quality of the martial art—there is no martial art that lacks a truth altogether.
But instead of understanding and accepting a truth I couldn't empathize with, I broke it apart into pieces until it could no longer be divided.
The basic unit that forms a technique. The smallest movement that produces a certain effect.
My sword is one that has only mastered the form, wielded according to the situation.
If I were to name the truth contained within, it would be nothing more than killing the enemy.
"Yeah. If I'm to brag a little, I'm good with a sword. I can guarantee that you won't easily find another who handles it as well as I do across the entire Central Plains. …But if you ask whether my sword has depth, then no."
That is why the Iron Blood Faction Leader always told me this. He said that no matter when it might be, he hoped I wouldn't live a life devoted solely to survival. He hoped I would look at the world and experience more things.
He hoped I would understand that there were other paths, that there was a life to be lived as a human being, not just as a swordsman.
She had always tried to teach me how to live, not just how to fight. How ridiculous that I only understood the meaning of it after losing everything once…
"Ah, now that I think about it, I heard something similar recently."
I looked at Tang So-wol with a playful smile, and she averted her gaze, a little embarrassed.
"Ahem. I have no idea what you're talking about."
"If I've spent my whole life walking my own path and so know nothing of other roads, then you wanted to show me that other roads exist and that this one isn't so bad either. Even if you don't remember, Tang So-wol, I do, so it doesn't matter."
"Eek! Why would you bring that up so suddenly, how embarrassing! There are other people here too…"
Tang So-wol trailed off and looked behind her. There stood the Vice-Captain of the Poison Blood Squad, turning his head away as if he hadn't heard a thing.
Of course, judging by the way the corner of his mouth twitched, he'd been listening with great amusement.
I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders at Tang So-wol, who was glaring at me with a resentful gaze.
"The conversation may have drifted a bit, but the point stands. I thought I was a genius."
"…I don't understand how you arrived at that conclusion."
"Why not? You said I handled the sword well, even if I lacked depth. What do you think I, who had just picked up a sword and was at an age where depth didn't matter yet, would have been thinking?"
"Ah."
Tang So-wol's mouth fell open in dawning realization.
Now I know that my own shallowness is the greatest wall blocking my path to the Harmony Realm, and I'm well aware that a monster like the Heavenly Demon exists in this world, but…
In my days as a frog at the bottom of a well, I truly and sincerely believed I was a genius.
"A prodigy that appears once in a thousand years, if that. A hero who would leave his name in the history of the martial world. A grand master who could build a force rivaling the Five Great Families or the Nine Great Sects and One Gang with nothing but his bare hands. I thought, maybe, I was that kind of person."
"…T, to that extent?"
Tang So-wol's expression showed a hint of alarm. But surprisingly, before the regression, the real fifteen-year-old Cheon Hwi had indeed been harboring such audacious thoughts.
"Do you know why I have all that knowledge about various constitutions?"
"Ah. Now that you mention it, that is a bit curious."
I had heard a lot about the Poison Spirit Constitution and the Pure Yin Constitution directly from the people who possessed them, so I was especially detailed on those, but I also knew a fair amount about other unusual constitutions.
What kind of abilities one was born with, what side effects they had, how one had to overcome them, and where to go and what martial arts to learn in order to make the most of one's innate constitution.
The reason I knew such things so thoroughly—things an ordinary martial artist would never need to know in a lifetime—was simple.
"I thought I was born with one of those constitutions."
"Pardon?"
"Honestly, I believed I was a genius that couldn't be explained any other way."
"…"
Let me say it again: at fifteen, I firmly believed I was someone special.
And why wouldn't I? I was captivated by the martial arts I had just begun to learn, and I was at the point where I was certain I could defeat every single one of those Jeoksa Faction bastards—whom I had previously thought unbeatable—except for their sect leader.
That arrogance even lasted quite a while.
Even now, thinking about it makes me want to hide somewhere out of embarrassment, but at the time I was completely sincere, so whenever I went up the nearby mountain to gather firewood, I would always search for unusual terrain and venture deep into it.
"That doesn't quite connect. Why would you do that?"
"Because I thought that if it were me, it wouldn't be strange to stumble upon a fortuitous encounter by chance."
"…"
By this point, Tang So-wol seemed too drained to even be surprised, her mouth simply hanging open. I suppressed the urge to poke a finger inside it and continued my story. What came next was the important part.
"So whenever I saw a tree with such an unusual shape, I would look around the area. Just in case there was something there."
I casually reached out and pointed at a tree in the distance that had grown lying on its side.
Its split shape oddly resembled a snake with its mouth wide open.
Leaving the mountain path and heading that way, Tang So-wol and the vice-captain flinched for a moment before following along.
Good. I just needed to repeat this a few times.
After that, I passed a rock shaped like a toad, a valley where the wind sounded like Gwigokseong, and a waterfall that split into two branches midway, until I found a small cave hidden behind the undergrowth.
Everything was exactly as I had heard before the regression, so I wandered a bit, but I found it quickly.
Tang So-wol, who had been tilting her head at first, seemed to find it amusing from the middle onward, her eyes sparkling as she kept up.
And so, having traded my embarrassing past for this, I stopped before the cave and opened my mouth.
"You'd think a place found at the very end like this would hold a fortuitous encounter. A peerless spiritual herb growing there, a sleeping spirit beast, or a hidden spot where a master of a previous generation left behind a secret manual and spiritual medicine to pass on their enlightenment."
"It's a classic setup. But it's also the kind of thing that actually happens once in a while, just when you've forgotten about it."
I let out a small laugh and nodded at Tang So-wol, who snorted roughly, clearly pleased with this little expedition.
"Then let's head inside now. Just don't expect too much from what we find."
"Yes. But at this point, there has to be something. After all, didn't the young hero find the purple poison-nurturing herb in a similar way?"
"Well. You could see it that way."
It was true, in the sense that I'd found it based on stories I'd heard before the regression.
"Alright, enough talk. Stand beside me. We've come this far, so we'll enter together."
"Understood."
Standing side by side with Tang So-wol, I pushed aside the thicket blocking the cave entrance and stepped inside.
As expected, at the center of the cave lay a secret manual and a wooden box emanating an extraordinary aura.
…And there was also a gaunt old man sitting cross-legged, silently staring at us.
I reflexively drew my sword at the killing intent stealthily reaching out toward me.
I hadn't expected him to still be alive.