Dozens of martial artists clad in black surrounded a single man.
The man, Danmok Yun, was gasping for breath as his eyes darted about. Reflected in his pupils was a man standing proudly, not a drop of blood upon him.
The Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult.
The enemy of his family and clan, the man he had chased to the death until now.
"At last… this moment has come."
Danmok Yun took a step forward. The blood-soaked earth clung heavily to the soles of his feet, making a sticky noise with every step.
His body grew heavier with each movement, yet still he advanced. Even though the wind blew against him, blocking his path, he paid it no mind.
This is how I've made it so far.
After the annihilation of my clan, learning the sword, rolling across the roads of the Central Plains, building merit and earning renown—all of it, I overcame alone without anyone's help.
This time is no different. Even if the wind blocks my way and the earth seizes my ankles, I will press forward.
"You cursed bastard."
"..."
"You don't know how much effort it took me just to reach you."
The black-clad followers around him flinched. Their faces twisted as if ready to stab him to death. But the Cult Leader merely raised his hand, signaling them not to interfere.
Danmok Yun gripped his sword tightly.
A faint tremor ran down his arm. Whether it was the vibration of the sword, the pounding of his heart, or something else entirely, he did not know.
Every one of his senses was fixed solely upon the Cult Leader.
"Three steps."
Just three steps. With three more steps, his sword would reach the man.
Pahht!!
The tips of his toes dug into the ground. Along the meridians stretching from shoulder to elbow to wrist, his inner energy burst forth, and in the trail of his sword, the night sky unfolded.
Falling Star (Nak-seong).
Countless stars descended along the sword's path.
"Two steps to go."
Each time he swung his sword, the demonic followers fell. Clad in ominous auras, they continued to charge, but Danmok Yun's sword did not stop.
Shooting Star (Yoo-seong).
Stars that fell from the heavens gathered upon his sword and flowed into a river.
"One step."
The sword that carried the stars was itself a great star.
He took one more step. His sword thrust toward the man. His whole body was seized by the sensation of time slowing down.
Danmok Yun clenched his teeth. Only one more step and his sword would reach him, but his body refused to move.
Move, move, move!
Pook!
The vivid sensation of piercing flesh.
"Danmok Yun, Sword Star."
The Cult Leader's mouth slowly opened.
His expression was dry, devoid of any ripple of emotion. As if he had already known it would come to this.
"I acknowledge you. Alone, you have inflicted the greatest harm upon this cult. I declare that your sword has pierced to the deepest heart of my sect."
His gaze calmly swept the surroundings.
There were more corpses than living men standing.
At a glance, one might take it for the aftermath of any battle.
But it was not.
All the corpses belonged to the demonic followers of the Heavenly Demon Cult.
It was a spectacle created by this single man alone. By that sight alone, one had to admit the cult's utter defeat.
"But still, how unfortunate."
The Cult Leader looked at the sword that had stopped just before him.
One single step.
That was the distance between himself and Danmok Yun.
"In the end, it is a sword that will never reach."
And between them, countless swords already stood barring the way.
Danmok Yun looked to the tip of his sword.
Far.
Too far. Far enough that his sword could not reach.
And death was drawing closer.
There were words he wished to say, curses he wanted to spit at the man, even cries of injustice to the heavens.
But before all that, one word came to mind.
One face rose before all others.
Father.
Father, who proudly protected the Danmok Clan to the very end.
Father, who bore the entire clan upon shoulders broad as a mountain. Father, who always seemed so large to me.
…I wanted to avenge you. I did.
I wanted revenge for the clan, for the family, for you.
That is why I ran this far.
But… it seems it was beyond my power.
Forgive me. Forgive this useless son who could not finish it.
I should have learned the sword sooner. I should have fought by your side against the Heavenly Demon Cult's invasion and defended the clan.
I resent myself—my foolish younger self.
I long to see you again… Father.
The Cult Leader raised his sword. Danmok Yun glared at it until the very moment death came to cut his throat.
Even in that instant, Danmok Yun could not close his eyes.
In every group, there are always one or two that stick out.
Ones who just can't blend in, who poke out like awls in a pocket.
Whether for better or worse, so it was.
And me?
I was of the latter.
Not an awl in a pocket, but a frog in one.
Doing what I wasn't told to, and never doing what I was. The moment eyes were turned away, I would even escape the pocket and drive my parents mad.
What parent wants to scold their child? They only wanted to guide me to the easier path, out of worry. But to the child, that always sounded like nagging.
So to me, their counsel was nothing but nagging. And so I boasted I would walk a different path.
That boast was this:
Father, I wish to become a scholar. I do not want the sword.
On the day I came of age.
At the celebration of my birthday, I declared this before my father.
Born as the great heir of one of the Seven Great Clans, born into a house envied by all, yet I proclaimed I would not learn the sword.
What had Father said then?
"Is that truly your resolve?"
Oh, yes. That was exactly what he said…
…Wait?
"Yun, I trusted you and waited all this time. Thinking you would soon grow wise, that you were not a child without responsibility. That is what I thought."
Tak!
The sound of a wine cup striking the table rang out. That familiar voice grew clearer and clearer. And then my sight opened.
The belated smell of wine mixed with the aroma of food tickled my nose. Before me was a banquet table laden with every delicacy.
When I lifted my head, two figures came into view. Danmok Yun's eyes widened.
"Father, Mother?"
It was his parents.
"What is this…?"
"Yun, think it over once more."
Before he could grasp what was happening, his mother spoke.
"It's not that we oppose your studying. But we are a martial family. As the great heir, you too must learn the sword."
"Honey, enough. What use is forcing him if he does not wish it?"
"Lord, Yun is still young. With patience and guidance, he will understand. Surely he did not mean it from the heart."
"Not from the heart?"
The head of the Danmok Clan, Danmok Hong. His voice rose.
"Then are you saying the boy spoke such words just to amuse someone? And before his own fifteenth birthday feast, no less?"
"I misspoke. Please, calm yourself, Lord."
"Wife, I am calm enough. But still… haah."
With a weary sigh, Danmok Hong pressed at his brow. Danmok Yun, still dazed, looked at them.
Was this dream or reality?
The parents he could never forget, who had lived forever in regret after he lost them, now stood before him.
His vision blurred, eyes stinging.
Clatter.
Danmok Yun rose to his feet.
"Father, Mother. It has been a long time."
He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into their arms.
But he wished to make the choice he would never regret most. Even if this illusion vanished like a mirage, he would leave behind no regret.
Danmok Yun resolved to release the greatest knot in his heart. The burden he had carried all his life without once being able to lay down.
"I will offer a bow."
One bow. Danmok Yun lowered himself.
"Your son has been gravely unfilial. From this day, I will strive harder."
"Do you mean… that you will learn the sword?"
His mother, Jin Sohwa, asked cautiously.
A second bow. Danmok Yun bowed once more.
"…Huh."
Silence fell. Danmok Yun, after two solemn bows, rose and respectfully brought his hands together.
Half a bow. He bent his waist, and a satisfied murmur followed.
So, such a day has come to me.
It felt as if the burning knot in his chest was melting away.
Indescribable emotions welled up inside him. Danmok Yun rubbed his tingling nose and looked up at his parents.
Surely now, they would understand his true heart…
Crash!!
Something whizzed past his face and shattered with a sharp noise.
Danmok Yun's eyes widened.
"You worthless brat."
"L-Lord!!"
Danmok Hong glared furiously at his son, snatching up another wine cup.
Snap!!
He gripped it so tightly it shattered before he could even throw it.
"Get out, you insolent wretch!"
Blood trickled from his torn palm, and Jin Sohwa cried out in alarm as she tried to stop him.
"Calm yourself, Lord! Your hand—someone, anyone, come quickly!"
"I have no son like you. From this day, your parents are dead! Go live as you please, see how well you fare!"
Danmok Hong, face still dark with rage, hurled anything he could reach toward Danmok Yun.
"Aagh! Wait, Father! Stop—why does this even hurt? Ow!"
"Who is your father!"
As Danmok Yun scrambled to avoid the flying objects, Danmok Hong shouted with eyes blazing.
"Out! Get out of my house at once!!"
"Young Master, please do not hold this against us."
The clan's martial men escorted Danmok Yun outside.
What could they do? The clan head had roared to throw the heir out beyond the gate.
"Then, we shall take our leave."
Thud.
Danmok Yun sank down in front of the gate.
Creeeeak… Boom.
A light gust stirred the dust as the heavy gates shut with a deep sound.
Danmok Yun looked back.
The massive gates befitting one of the Seven Great Clans, with the plaque reading Danmok Clan, came into view.
This place, once consumed by fire and annihilated. This place, erased with the clan's destruction.
Yet here it stood, unchanged from that time before the calamity.
"Wha… wait a moment."
His senses snapped awake.
"What is going on?!"
Danmok Yun shot to his feet.
The rough feel of dirt against his hands, the distinctive scent of Zhejiang carried by the wind—it all pulled him powerfully into reality.
He turned to look down the street.
The Zhejiang he remembered from his youth spread out before him, exactly as it had been.
"…Zhejiang."
The land of my life.
The hometown I love.
"I've returned!"