Chapter 582

“Oh, Young Master. You’ve returned…”

Upon returning to the dwelling, I was greeted by Tang So-yeol, who froze mid-sentence upon seeing me.

“Young Master…”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

“Did something happen?”

Her eyes were filled with concern, and I couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sight.

“What could possibly have happened? Nothing’s wrong.”

“But…”

“Have you eaten?”

“…Yes…”

I deliberately changed the subject, and she reluctantly went along, understanding that I didn’t want to talk about it.

That made me feel a little guilty.

“What about you, Young Master? Have you eaten?”

“Ah, yes. I ate.”

I replied with a smile, but of course, it was a lie. I hadn’t eaten.

How could I?

‘As if I could stomach anything.’

Running a hand through my hair, I tried to calm my mind.

Though I had spent some time cooling off on the way back, it wasn’t enough.

Far from it—I still felt my emotions burning hotter than ever.

Cheonma.

Was it just a dream?

The thought crossed my mind, though I knew better. It was more of a desperate wish than a genuine question.

But I was all too aware that it wasn’t a dream.

The jet-black hair.

The violet eyes that stared directly at me.

The suffocating aura that radiated from her—it was all real.

While I had made countless changes, large and small, to this world with my actions,

this was, without a doubt, the greatest butterfly effect yet.

‘Where did it all go wrong?’

Cheonma had appeared in Hanam, looking vastly different from what I remembered.

How was it supposed to be?

‘…Not like this. Not this soon.’

If my memory was correct, it should have been at least another year or two before her appearance.

She was meant to open the

Magyeong Gate

during the grand festival hosted by the Martial Alliance.

That memory was still vivid.

The sight of her tearing through the sky and stepping into the world.

The way she looked down at the vast crowd of orthodox martial artists gathered below.

["I am Cheonma."]

Her voice had silenced them all, her overwhelming strength forcing even the great masters of the Alliance to kneel.

That moment was seared into my mind.

Of course, many things had already changed.

The premature appearance of the Crimson-Rank beasts, the change in the Martial Alliance leader to the Wudang Sword Saint…

I could understand those deviations. They were the result of my own meddling.

I had accepted responsibility for those.

But this—

‘This is too much.’

This was a problem of a completely different scale, one that made my head throb painfully.

Cheonma’s demeanor was nothing like what I remembered.

I hated to admit it, but her resemblance to Wi Seol-ah was undeniable—too similar in both appearance and aura.

["Why do you hate me?"]

Her words lingered in my mind.

Why do I hate her? That was putting it mildly.

‘I despise her.’

I hated Cheonma.

I kept repeating it to myself, but her recent behavior refused to leave my thoughts.

‘Don’t dwell on it. She’s Cheonma.’

I struggled to push the memory out of my head. I had to remind myself of who she was.

What I had endured for this moment.

Why I continued to live this way.

And at the same time, I had to think about—

‘What comes next?’

No matter what Cheonma had become or what my current circumstances were,

I needed to figure out how to navigate this.

“Young Master?”

Tang So-yeol’s voice brought me back.

“Are you… truly okay?”

She had approached me and was now holding my hand firmly.

The cool touch of her hand felt oddly grounding, even though summer had already arrived. Why were her hands so cold?

Her eyes were filled with worry, and I realized my expression must have been a mess.

“I’m fine.”

“…”

She didn’t believe me. Her expression said as much.

Not that I could blame her—I was doing a poor job of hiding it.

“Young Master.”

Tang So-yeol called my name again.

“Hmm?”

When I turned to look at her, she spoke with a quiet but determined tone.

“I… I can help you now.”

Her gaze was resolute, and I could tell exactly what she meant.

“So please, won’t you let me?”

Her voice was careful, almost timid.

I could sense the fear in her, afraid that I might refuse her.

“…”

I sighed inwardly at the sight.

This was a problem.

‘This isn’t why I wanted her to grow stronger.’

All I had wanted was for her to stand on her own.

To be able to protect herself in dangerous situations.

And above all—

‘To stop sacrificing herself.’

I didn’t want her to burn herself out, trying to protect others like she had in my previous life.

That was my only intention.

If Tang So-yeol now offered to help me, it would defeat the purpose entirely.

At the very least—

At the very least—

‘I don’t want these kids caught up in this.’

That was why I had started all this in the first place.

Caught between her earnestness and my own thoughts, I reached out and gently patted her hair.

Her hair was slightly longer now, its texture softer than before.

“I’m fine. For now.”

At my words, Tang So-yeol’s expression grew sullen.

Even after reaching

Hwagyeong

, she still made faces like that. It was strangely endearing.

Despite her growth and enlightenment, some things about a person never change.

“Really, I’m fine for now.”

“…Alright.”

“If I need help, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“No, you won’t.”

“…”

Her blunt response left me speechless.

She wasn’t wrong.

“Well… uh. Yeah.”

I let out an awkward laugh, knowing I couldn’t deny it.

My past actions spoke for themselves.

Perhaps that was why Tang So-yeol seemed unusually resolute.

Sniff.

She let out a small huff, and somehow, my scrambled thoughts seemed to settle just a little.

‘First… I need to focus on what I can do.’

Complicated matters would stay complicated.

But that only meant I had to act.

So what should I do now?

Recovering my strength was important, but—

‘Cheonma is somewhere in Hanam.’

If Cheonma was here, then my next step was clear.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

I asked Tang So-yeol,

“Where is the Shadow King right now?”

At my question, her lips pouted slightly. It seemed she wasn’t pleased that this was the first thing I asked of her.

‘I do feel a bit bad.’

But this couldn’t be helped.

The situation on my end was urgent, after all.

“…Master is…”

Master.

Hearing the Shadow King referred to like that felt oddly strange.

“Have you not been able to contact him either, Young Master?”

Her words made me tilt my head.

Something about what she said caught my attention.

“Why? Is something wrong?”

I could track the Shadow King down if I really needed to, but her reaction piqued my curiosity.

“Master… I don’t know where he is right now.”

“Hm?”

“He left saying it was time for me to descend the mountain and hasn’t been seen since.”

He disappeared?

I thought over her words.

If Tang So-yeol couldn’t contact the Shadow King, then what might be the reason?

One possibility came to mind.

‘Could it be… Taeecheon?’

The

Magyeong

of Taeecheon. Could he have business there?

I vaguely remembered him mentioning he might visit the place.

‘That would explain the lack of contact.’

If he’d crossed over to the other realm, it would make sense that he was unreachable.

But it didn’t matter much.

‘I can still reach him.’

Just because Tang So-yeol couldn’t didn’t mean it was impossible.

I’d send word to him before the day was over.

Normally, I wouldn’t go out of my way to contact him, but—

‘I need the Shadow King for this.’

If it involved Cheonma, the situation demanded a different approach.

“Got it. I’ll try to get in touch with him.”

“Huh?”

“Anything you want me to pass along?”

“Ah, no… that is…”

The mention of the Shadow King darkened Tang So-yeol’s expression.

“...If you can, just tell him to take his time. Or better yet, come as late as possible.”

“...”

Her words made me chuckle wryly.

It seemed she’d had quite a rough time with him.

******************

The next day arrived, and I found myself lying flat on the ground, staring up at the sky.

Yes, it was a scene I was all too familiar with.

“Ugh, my back…”

I groaned as I pushed myself upright. A sharp pain shot through my lower back as I sat up.

It seemed I had overdone it a bit.

As I clutched my aching back, someone plopped down lightly in front of me, meeting my gaze.

It was Paejon.

“Tsk tsk… You look pathetic,” he said, shaking his head in mock disdain.

I frowned at his words.

“Didn’t I ask you to take it easy? Why’d you go all out and toss me like that?”

The reason I had been lying flat on the ground, staring at the sky, was none other than my training session with Paejon.

Though, calling it a “training session” felt too generous. It was more like a one-sided beating, as always.

‘I thought I was starting to close the gap.’

Back when Paejon was merely at the peak of perfection, I could somewhat hold my own.

But now that he had reached

Hwagyeong

, it was utterly hopeless.

‘Even activating my inner vision doesn’t help.’

No matter how much I strained myself, I couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t just the speed—

‘The paths of his strikes are endless.’

The trajectories of Paejon’s energy attacks were simply too many to count.

There was no way to block or counter them all.

And so, the outcome was inevitable.

‘I just get pummeled, that’s all.’

Without any way to respond, I ended up rolling on the ground over and over.

“There is no such thing as moderation in training. You must be serious at all times,” he said firmly.

“I’m still recovering, Elder.”

“Indeed. And it was you who insisted on training despite Shin-ui telling you to rest, was it not?”

“...”

He had a point. I had been the one to ask him for help, thinking my body was mostly recovered.

‘...I didn’t expect him to go all out and beat me to a pulp, though.’

I couldn’t deny the unfairness of it.

I’d assumed he’d take it easy on me, considering my condition, but clearly, that assumption was wrong.

Paejon, dissatisfied with my silence, gave me a piercing look.

“Besides, with so many stray thoughts clouding your mind, what kind of training do you think you’re accomplishing?”

“...”

His words struck a nerve, and I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

So he noticed. I figured he might, but of course, Paejon would pick up on it.

“I’m sorry.”

I apologized quickly, and his eyes narrowed slightly in response.

“Judging by your expression, something is troubling you.”

“...”

“With your personality, I doubt you’ll tell me what it is.”

Was my chest an open book? How did he always know?

“At the very least, if you’re serious about training, rid yourself of those distractions. Otherwise, it’s no different from wasting your time.”

“…Understood.”

Paejon rose to his feet after delivering his advice, leaving me to sit there and swallow my frustration.

‘Rid myself of distractions, huh.’

Easier said than done.

How could I possibly do that when my situation was such a mess?

I had come to Paejon out of desperation, hoping to quell my anxiety and frustration, but even I knew that wasn’t the right solution.

The fact that Cheonma was somewhere in Hanam loomed over me like a heavy shadow.

Was it my troubled thoughts again? Paejon let out a heavy sigh, clearly dissatisfied.

“Disciple.”

“Yes, Elder?”

“As always, you think too much for someone of your level.”

“...”

Hwagyeong

—a realm attainable only through great enlightenment.

Yet here I was, still plagued by unnecessary thoughts.

“If you can’t clear your mind, you’ll never reach the place you aspire to.”

“...”

“Whether it’s a higher realm or the power you seek, it will remain out of reach.”

In other words, not only would I struggle to ascend further, but the power I was working to build would also remain incomplete.

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

For now, all I could do was nod in acknowledgment.

I understood it in my head, but putting it into practice was another matter entirely.

“Hmph.”

Paejon snorted softly, his disapproval evident, though he didn’t press the issue further.

I got to my feet as well, brushing off the dust.

“…Thank you for the morning session. I’ll head to Shin-ui now to check on my condition.”

Having wrapped up the morning’s training, I intended to visit Shin-ui to assess my physical state.

But—

“Shin-ui isn’t here.”

“What?”

I widened my eyes at Paejon’s unexpected remark.

“Not here? This early in the morning?”

The sun had only just begun to rise. Where could he have gone?

“I heard he was expecting a guest and stepped out to meet them.”

Paejon’s explanation only deepened the mystery.

A guest?

The reason Shin-ui had come to Hanam was clear—

‘He said he was here to meet someone.’

Was this guest the person he’d been referring to?

‘Who could it be?’

Even the leader of the Martial Alliance would have to make the effort to visit Shin-ui in person.

Yet this was someone important enough for Shin-ui to go out of his way to meet.

Who on earth could that be?

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of curiosity.

******************

The sun had just begun to rise, painting the sky in soft hues of morning.

As the streets started to fill with people, the bustle of the crowd was interrupted by the arrival of a single carriage, weaving its way through the busy thoroughfare.

The carriage drew the attention of the passersby, their gazes fixed upon it. While the appearance of a carriage was nothing out of the ordinary, its design was what captivated them.

It was a style rarely seen in Zhongyuan, unique enough to stand out amidst the common streets of Hanam.

Inside the carriage, a woman—Moyong Hee-ah—let out a quiet sigh.

“From here on, it looks like we’ll have to continue on foot.”

With the growing crowd, the carriage would only become a hindrance.

Moreover, drawing further attention would pose an issue, particularly because of the person seated before her.

The woman seated in front of Moyong Hee-ah nodded at her words, shifting her gaze momentarily toward the window.

Outside, the streets were teeming with people.

To the woman, it was all rather fascinating.

The ground, untouched by snow.

The warmth of the season, so vivid and palpable.

Everything about it was a new and curious experience for her.

“…So this is Hanam,” she murmured, her voice carrying a mix of wonder and excitement.

Moyong Hee-ah nodded in response, though her own feelings about the situation were far less positive. Still, she knew better than to let it show.

The person before her was not someone she could afford to treat with anything less than absolute respect.

“My Lady.”

The carefully spoken title drew the woman’s attention back to Moyong Hee-ah.

As the faintly shifting breeze moved through the carriage, the woman’s eyes—briefly visible—reflected a strikingly familiar light blue hue, identical to Moyong Hee-ah’s own.