-Yul-ah.
There was something my master once told me.
-âSomeday, youâll feel like the world is being especially cruel to you.â
He was my parent and my friend.
My friend and my everything.
He often said those words while sitting me on his lap when I was a child.
Swoosh.
His hand, rough but gentle, stroked my hair.
-âWhen that time comes, remember this.â
His voice was dry, yet soft.
-âEven if the world makes you suffer, know that itâs not your fault, Yul.â
He spoke those words to comfort me when I came crying after being tormented.
The young Seong Yul nodded at his words, but even after all these years, he couldnât understand them.
Was it really not my fault?
The world grew darker and darker.
Murderous urges threatened to burst out at any moment.
No matter how much I recited the Daoist teachings, no matter how often I meditated, I couldnât suppress them.
I want to kill.
I want to kill everything I see.
I donât know why.
I donât even understand why I feel this way.
But it felt like I had to do itâ
As if it was the very reason I was born.
When I could no longer resist and bit my masterâs hand as hard as I could,
He simply patted my back with the same calm expression as always.
He said it was okay.
That I could endure it.
That I was capable.
And so, I tried.
I stopped biting his hand and used my own instead.
On days when I couldnât bear it, I crawled under the covers and faced the darkness alone.
Thatâs how I lived.
A cursed life.
A master who accepted me for what I was.
Clinging to that thought was the only thing that kept me going.
My master was my shelter.
He shielded and protected me.
I endured because he was there.
I lived because he was there.
But nowâ
âWhat am I supposed to do?â
Now that my master was gone, how was I supposed to live?
It was the thought that surfaced the first time I killed someone.
Blood stained my blade.
Seong Yul stared at the person he had just killed.
The body was mangled, brutally torn apart.
They said he was a man who had assaulted a woman in a nearby village and fled.
â...â
What did I feel back then?
Shaaâ
That day, it rained.
The downpour was so intense that some areas flooded.
I watched the blood flow away with the water,
watched as the man grew cold and lifeless.
As a disciple of the Dao, I felt guilt for taking a life.
I also felt fearâthe fear of having killed another human being.
I would be lying if I said I didnât feel those things.
But even as those heavy emotions lingered,
What remained at the centerâ
Was ecstasy.
âHaa⊠Haa.â
Overwhelming.
So this is what a dying human looks like.
Even as the rain poured down, the scent of blood was thick and rich.
Its fragrance was irresistible.
How could something be so beautiful?
I was becoming addicted to killing.
And the moment I realized itâ
âUrghâŠ!!â
I dropped to my knees and vomited.
âGahâŠ!â
I couldnât stand the monster I had become.
I couldnât bear the thought that I admired deathâ
that I wasnât human anymore.
I felt like a monster.
âHic⊠HicâŠâ
Crying, I picked up my sword.
The same sword I had used to butcher that man.
But this time, I pointed it at my own throat.
If this was what I had become, then I should just die.
I should disappear completely.
I made up my mind and prepared to slit my own throat.
-Yul-ah.
â...â
Then, I froze.
I thought I heard my masterâs voice.
-âItâs okay.â
I remembered his words.
I saw his face, smiling even as he faced death.
-âSo live.â
I couldnât bring the blade any closer to my neck.
ââŠAhâŠâ
Could a life like this even have meaning?
What value was there in clinging to this cursed existence, knowing I would one day become a monster?
âPleaseâŠâ
If someone knew the answer, I begged them to tell me.
That day, in the rain,
I prayed.
âJin Im-seok.â
â...â
A voice snapped Seong Yul out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes.
Beyond his clearing vision, he saw a spacious arena.
A rectangular stage surrounded by countless spectators.
Thumpâ!
His heart pounded wildly at the sight.
Insects.
The crowd looked like a swarm of insects.
He wanted to crush them all and paint the world in blood.
The thought made him clutch his chest.
âCalm down.â
Itâs fine.
He took a deep breath, calming himself.
Heâs behind me.
So itâs fine.
Repeating that thought, Seong Yul cooled his head.
âJin Im-seok. Are you alright?â
The refereeâs voice brought him back to reality.
He nodded.
âWeâll begin soon. Are you sure youâre ready?â
It was just a formality.
Seong Yulâs answer had already been decided before he stepped onto the stage.
âYes. No problem.â
âAlright.â
The referee turned his gaze to the opposite side.
A man, clad in black from head to toe, stood before Seong Yul.
ââŠFallen Blade, was it?â
Peng Woojin.
The son of the Peng Clanâs Blade King.
That was his name.
âPeng Woojin.â
âIâve been ready for a while.â
ââŠAlright. Then letâs prepare to begin.â
The refereeâs words made Peng Woojin grin.
Seeing that grin gave Seong Yul an odd feeling.
âWhat is this?â
He couldnât describe it.
It was an inexplicable, eerie sensation.
It made him instinctively wary.
As Seong Yul furrowed his brow,
âMaster Jin, was it?â
Peng Woojin spoke before the match started.
âYes.â
The name still felt unfamiliar, but Seong Yul nodded because he had been told to use it.
âI see youâre close with Master Gu.â
ââŠExcuse me?â
Master Gu?
His tone sounded strange, but Seong Yul didnât bother to correct him.
âWhat do you think?â
ââŠAbout what?â
âThey say a friend of a friend is also a friend. Since Iâm close with Master Gu, why donât we strengthen our bond as well?â
â...â
Seong Yul was caught off guard by the sudden remark and couldnât immediately respond.
To ask such questions right before a duelâwas he mocking me?
The thought flashed through my mind, but Seong Yul chose not to dwell on it.
âThereâs something important at stake.â
There was something he needed to gain from this match.
He couldnât afford to be shaken by pointless distractions.
Srrng.
Before responding, Seong Yul drew his sword.
Peng Woojin, who had been smiling, momentarily faltered.
âFirst, I must apologize.â
âOh myâŠ! A rejection? Thatâs quite disappointing.â
âItâs not so much a rejection as it is a clarification. I am not friends with Master Gu.â
âHmm?â
He and I could not be described as friends.
âI merely follow in his footsteps. Our relationship is not one where I can call him a friend.â
Following him didnât mean treading the same path he had walked or would walk in the future.
It was, quite literally, just following behind him.
âAnd furthermoreââ
Seong Yul tightened his grip on his sword.
âWhile I appreciate Peng Woojinâs words, forging bonds would only cause hesitation when it comes time to cross blades. I must, with apologies, decline.â
He couldnât afford to hold back.
He had to win this duelâno matter what.
âHmm.â
Peng Woojin let out a soft hum, as if disappointed by Seong Yulâs words.
Yet, he didnât erase the smile from his face.
âWhat a shame. Though I canât compare to Master Gu, you too have a rather pleasing color.â
Color?
Was he referring to my clothes, my eyes, or perhaps my hair?
Seong Yul felt a brief sense of confusion, but Peng Woojin continued speaking.
âI understand your reasoning well, which is why itâs even more regrettable.â
It was difficult to point a blade at someone with whom youâd formed a bond.
Peng Woojin seemed to understand that sentiment all too well.
âWhich is precisely why I wanted to form that bond.â
ââŠ?â
The words made Seong Yul furrow his brows.
âPrepare.â
The refereeâs voice rang out.
Seong Yul immediately steeled himself.
He couldnât let his guard down.
He resolved never to lose focus against Peng Woojin.
Before stepping onto the stage, Gu Yangcheon had warned him:
-âDo everything you can. If you donât, youâll wish you died when Iâm through with you.â
Just recalling those words sent a shiver down his spine.
But there had been meaning in those words.
Gu Yangcheon had been giving him a heads-up.
Peng Woojin was strongâso strong that he needed to focus completely.
âHoo.â
Tension.
Vigilance.
Concentration.
Seong Yulâs senses slowly sharpened, and his body warmed up.
He gathered his energy through steady breaths, focusing entirely on Peng Woojin.
I wonât lose.
I have to win.
So thatâ
âI can learn the truth about Masterâs death.â
With that resolve, he hardened his determination.
The referee slowly opened his mouth.
âBegin.â
Swishâ!
The refereeâs hand, raised high, dropped down.
Seong Yul immediately prepared to charge at Peng Woojinâ
âMy apologies in advance.â
Boomâ!
âKuugh!â
Thud.
âWhat?â
With a sudden impact, Seong Yulâs knees buckled.
What just happened? With his vision blurred, Seong Yul barely managed to brace himself against the ground.
Drip.
Plopâ!
Blood trickled onto the floor.
It was his own blood.
Seong Yul quickly clutched his mouth to stop the flow.
As his hazy vision gradually cleared, realization struck him.
âI lost consciousnessâŠ?â
It couldnât have been more than a second.
Even if it was brief, Seong Yul had blacked out.
What had happened?
Stiffly, he lifted his head and looked at Peng Woojin.
The man who had been several steps away was now standing right in front of him.
What had hit me?
Was it his fist? Or the flat side of his blade?
Whatever it was, he had definitely attacked me.
At that momentâ
âYou see, normallyâŠâ
Peng Woojinâs voice rang out.
âI donât particularly enjoy doing this.â
ââŠWhat?â
âNo matter how much you try to teach the incompetent, itâs meaningless. And since I canât show too much, thereâs only so much I can offer.â
He scratched his cheek, looking as though the whole situation annoyed him.
âBut.â
ââŠ!â
Seong Yul instinctively leapt back.
Crashâ!!
Even as he spoke, Peng Woojin swung his blade, slicing through the spot where Seong Yul had just been.
Whooshâ!
The heavy blade exuded an ominous pressure, and Seong Yul swallowed nervously.
If he hadnât dodged, his chest wouldâve been torn open.
âThis time, however, itâs different. Someone I respect asked this of me, and unlike those other fools, youâre not incompetent. So letâs see what youâve got.â
Thudâ!
Peng Woojin slammed his blade into the ground, and energy burst forth.
The blade began to darken.
âIf I have one request for you, Master Jin⊠I hopeââ
Vrrrrrâ!!
A deafening hum resonated from the blade.
Seong Yul bit his lip.
What the hell is he saying?
The vague words confused him, but there was no time to ask questions.
âI hope you make me happy.â
The moment he finished speaking, Peng Woojin flashed a grin and lunged at Seong Yul.
Crashâ!
âUrgh!â
Seong Yul groaned as he barely managed to block the attack with his sword.
Now he understood.
The unexplainable sensation he felt from Peng Woojinâ
It was fear.
His instincts were screaming in terror.
Vrrngâ!
He immediately coated his blade with energy.
Peng Woojinâs relentless attacks were barely deflected, but each collision left Seong Yulâs mind reeling.
Boomâ! Boom! Boomâ!!
It felt like being pounded by a blunt weapon.
Even though he blocked every strike, his arms felt like they were about to tear apart.
Creakâ!
ââŠ!â
Their blades locked for a moment, but then Peng Woojin twisted his weapon, knocking Seong Yul off balance.
Boomâ!
The pressure exploded, and Seong Yulâs arm recoiled violently, leaving his torso wide open.
He hurriedly gathered energy to defendâ
Crackâ!
But Peng Woojin struck with the flat of his blade, shattering the energy barrier.
The force was overwhelming.
Smashâ!!
âGah!â
The flat of the blade slammed into Seong Yulâs chest.
He clearly felt his bones rattle.
Whooshâ!!
The impact sent him flying across the stage, leaving a trail of blood.
âUrghâŠâ
Barely managing to stop himself, Seong Yul clutched his chest and gasped for breath.
Pain shot through him with every inhaleâhis ribs were likely cracked.
Even so, he had no time to stop.
Peng Woojin wasnât giving him any room to breathe as he pressed the attack.
Dodging the incoming strikes, Seong Yulâs thoughts raced.
âHeâs⊠strong.â
Terrifyingly strong.
It only took a few exchanges to realizeâ
Peng Woojin was far stronger than he had imagined.
Fighting Peng Woojin felt different from facing Gu Yangcheon, but the conclusion was just as clear.
ââŠI canât win.â
The end was inevitable. No matter what he tried, he couldnât overcome this opponent.
The overwhelming gap between them drained his will to fight.
Was that why?
Was that the reason Gu Yangcheon made that bet?
Did he already know Seong Yul had no chance of winning? Is that why he pushed him like that?
If so, it was cruelâfar too cruel.
Boomâ!
The impact of Peng Woojinâs blade against Seong Yulâs sword sent tremors through his legs.
His knees shook.
Even though he had blocked the blow with both hands, it felt like being struck by a boulder.
âOne more.â
Peng Woojinâs voice rang out.
Despite the raw power behind his strikes, his voice was eerily calm.
Seong Yul bit his lip.
He knew it was coming, but he couldnât avoid it.
The moment he heard the words, the blade was already falling.
Boomâ!!!
A heavier impact struck his blade.
âUghâŠ!!!â
Thudâ!
Once again, Seong Yul dropped to one knee.
His sword lowered as well.
âAhâŠâ
This was the end.
As he stared at his sword, the thought crept in.
There was no way out of this.
Clangâ!
His sword fell to the ground.
Seong Yulâs head drooped as he knelt.
His limbs were drained of strength.
His trembling muscles screamed silently in agony.
ââŠâ
Staring at the ground, his vision started to blur.
The thought of not hearing the truth about his master burned inside him, but he had no choice.
âI canât winâŠâ
He couldnât do it.
It had been impossible from the start.
As his consciousness began to fadeâ
[Hey.]
ââŠ!â
Flinchâ!
A familiar voice jolted him awake.
[What the hell are you doing?]
It was Gu Yangcheonâs voiceâthrough sound transmission.
Seong Yul immediately turned his head, scanning the crowd of spectators.
Amid the throng of people, he found a pair of eyes locked onto him.
[What the hell are you doing right now, you bastard?]
A sharp glare and harsh words.
Those piercing blue eyes made him shrink back instinctively.
[Youâre giving up already? Are you insane?]
â...â
Seong Yul bit his lip under the barrage of scolding.
Normally, he wouldâve just accepted it quietly, but this timeâ
[âŠWhat am I supposed to do?]
For the first time, Seong Yul lashed out, defying Gu Yangcheon.
Thatâs how cornered he felt.
[What do you mean, what? Just fight. Donât give up and fight.]
[I canât win.]
[You canât win? How the hell do you know that? What have you even tried?]
[âŠIâve done everything I can. I canâtâ]
[Ha.]
Gu Yangcheon scoffed as if heâd heard the most ridiculous thing.
[Everything? Donât make me laugh. Youâve still got plenty left in the tank.]
[NoâŠ! I swear Iâveâ]
[Youâve done everything, yet you still have the energy to talk to me through sound transmission? You call that giving it your all?]
[âŠ!]
Seong Yul froze, unable to refute him.
[You havenât done anything. You took a few hits and decided to quit. Thatâs all this is.]
Clench.
Seong Yulâs fist trembled.
He wanted to argue back, but he had no words to defend himself.
[Stop acting like a child. Donât tell yourself youâve done everything when you havenât done shit. Thatâs pathetic.]
[Youâwhat do you even knowâ]
[I donât know, thatâs why Iâm telling you to show me, you idiot! Youâve still got more to give. So stop making excuses and pick up your damn sword.]
Gu Yangcheonâs frustrated tone only made Seong Yulâs anger rise.
Part of him wanted to give up, to end it allâbut thenâ
[Are you deaf? If you walk off that stage, I swear Iâll kill you myself before Peng Woojin does. Got it!?]
The sheer force of his voice made Seong Yul grip his sword once more.
His muscles screamed in protest as he tried to move.
âUgh⊠ahâŠâ
He staggered, barely able to stand.
Peng Woojin was watching him with a relaxed expression, as if waiting to see what heâd do next.
His eyes seemed to say, âGo ahead. Try something.â
[Giving up only counts when youâve truly done everything.]
Gu Yangcheonâs voice echoed in his mind as he willed himself to stand.
[What youâre doing now isnât giving upâitâs running away.]
Whatâs the difference?
Seong Yul couldnât understand.
[Get it together.]
â...â
[You know it too. Thereâs still more you can do.]
More I can do?
Seong Yulâs eyes cleared slightly.
Gu Yangcheon was rightâthere was still something he hadnât done.
Something he had refused to do out of fear.
Seong Yul closed his eyes, and in the darkness, he saw it.
A lock.
An old, cracked lockâso fragile it looked like it would shatter with a touch.
It sealed a door.
But despite the lockâs frailty, a sinister energy seeped out from the cracks.
He couldnât open it.
If he did, the monster inside would consume him.
That fear had always stopped him.
â...â
Seong Yul took a deep breath, staring at the lock.
I donât know.
What does he expect me to do?
I donât understand.
The lock was all he could see.
It was the source of his curse.
He knew he shouldnât touch it, butâ
[Donât be scared.]
Gu Yangcheonâs words echoed again.
[Youâll be fine.]
â...â
Before he even realized it, Seong Yulâs hand touched the lock.
Click.
Crackâ!
With the faintest touch, the lock shattered.
Creakâ!
The door it had sealed burst open.
And at that momentâ
Whoooshâ!!!
The energy inside surged forth and engulfed Seong Yul completely.