Cut the Sky (2)
"Begin!"
At Cheon Seonhak's shout, the wooden sword in Cheon Muyang's hand shot skyward.
It was the very stance he had always used in the corner of the training grounds—a posture optimized purely for slashing.
'Look at this bastard?'
Yet Lee Seokgi let his guard down.
Watching this plainly, Cheon Muyang sneered at the daydreaming Lee Seokgi.
"Idiot."
"Huh?"
The slashes Cheon Muyang had swung for nearly a month straight.
All the trainees, Lee Seokgi included, had surely witnessed their level firsthand.
'That's why he let his guard down.'
From the outside, it probably looked like nothing more than a slow, simple slash.
Thud!
A dull sound rang out.
The downward strike that surged forth like lightning smashed directly into the crown of Lee Seokgi's head.
"Guhk!"
Lee Seokgi's vision blurred.
Within that fading sight, he saw Cheon Muyang's face—his lips curled upward.
'This… damn it.'
Thump.
Lee Seokgi collapsed unconscious.
That was the end.
The outcome of the duel, astonishingly, was decided in a single exchange.
"If it were up to me, I'd have preferred a real blade instead of a wooden one—but I'll let you off with this today."
Murmuring softly to the fallen Lee Seokgi, Cheon Muyang drew in the strangely silent air around him.
"Hoo...."
Cheon Seonhak stepped forward.
Presumably to declare the victor.
However, Cheon Muyang had other thoughts.
"I know all the resentment directed at me."
"...!"
Cheon Seonhak halted.
Ignoring this, Cheon Muyang continued.
"The vile things I did in the past—nothing can excuse them. I acknowledge them all. I was a scoundrel. Trash."
Everyone fell silent.
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."
That was not the fault of some nameless man—
It was what Cheon Muyang himself had done.
And yet, a nameless man had chosen to shoulder that punishment in his stead.
'Because I am Cheon Muyang.'
Cheon Muyang met the eyes of each person gathered there, one by one.
Among them were still gazes filled with contempt,and others sharp with suspicion, probing for hidden intent.
"But here, today, I apologize for every disgraceful act and misdeed I committed."
Cheon Muyang slowly bowed his head.
Time passed in silence.
When he raised his head again,
he could feel that some of the gazes directed at him had changed.
"If your anger still hasn't cooled, then come to the training grounds anytime."
"...."
"I'll be here."
With that, Cheon Muyang walked straight across the training grounds.
Wolyeong followed behind him.
"...."
Cheon Seonhak watched Cheon Muyang's retreating figure, deep in thought.
"Has he truly changed?"
It was still too early to be certain.
Yet unlike before, the eyes with which Cheon Seonhak watched Cheon Muyang no longer held only contempt and disdain.
"Ugh...."
Something writhed on the ground.
It was the groan of Lee Seokgi, slowly regaining consciousness.
Seeing this, Cheon Seonhak clicked his tongue.
"Tsk. Remove him."
The gazes of contempt and scorn turned instead toward Lee Seokgi.
The stage of opportunity had become a pit of downfall.
"We're leaving."
Cheon Seonhak departed.
The Cheonryong Sword Unit Commander and the Cheonbong Sword Unit Commander followed after him.
"What? It's already over?"
Lee Seokgi screamed as though he couldn't believe it.
"I lost in one hit? That's impossible!"
But his cry was drowned out.
Cheon Muyang didn't particularly feel like resting.
Though it had been a duel, he had only swung his sword once.
Still, having exited like that,
wouldn't it look strange to return to the training grounds?
"Looks like I'll have no choice but to focus on circulating and regulating my qi today."
"Days like that are necessary too."
"Is that so? Come to think of it, I asked you to watch the duel and tell me your thoughts—but there wasn't much to watch."
If anything, it felt awkward.
After all, all he had shown was a single slash.
However, Wolyeong's reaction was very different.
"That was the sword you showed me before, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. That's right."
"In my opinion, even if that opponent hadn't let his guard down, he wouldn't have been able to block it."
"You think so?"
"Yes!"
Cheon Muyang smiled.
It was then.
Someone's presence could be felt outside Cheon Muyang's room.
"I'm coming in."
It was Cheon Seonhak.
Cheon Muyang faced him as Cheon Seonhak entered without waiting for a reply.
"Ah. I'll prepare tea… not alcohol."
Wolyeong excused herself and stepped aside.
"She's a perceptive child."
"She's far too capable to remain merely my personal attendant."
"The sword you showed."
"...."
"What were you trying to cut?"
"The sky. I sought to cut the sky."
Cheon Seonhak's eyes trembled slightly.
Cutting the sky—Severing Heaven.
It was Cheon Seonhak's lifelong aspiration, the path of the sword he still pursued even now.
"The sky, huh...."
How absurd.
Cheon Seonhak had never dreamed that the one who understood his path would be Cheon Muyang—the very man he had long despised and given up on.
"They say life is full of twists and turns. This fits perfectly."
Letting out a hollow laugh, Cheon Seonhak fixed Cheon Muyang with a solemn gaze.
"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 this wager."
"...!"
"Say what you desire. I will grant it."
"Access to the Cheonryong Archive—"
Cheon Seonhak rejected it instantly.
"That is not within my authority."
"I see...."
"If it is within my authority, I will grant anything."
Cheon Muyang thought carefully.
He considered what he needed most right now.
'In truth, there's no training better than real combat, but....'
Something flashed in Cheon Muyang's mind.
He grinned.
"Assign me one sparring partner a day."
"Will that suffice?"
"Yes. It's more than enough."
"...You will grow stronger every day."
"That's exactly what I want."
Without another word, Cheon Seonhak stood up.
"I'll be going."
"Yes. Please take care on your way, Uncle."
"...."
It looked as though Cheon Seonhak had something to say, but in the end, he left without speaking.
"What was that about?"
Cheon Muyang merely shrugged.
With Cheon Seonhak gone and Wolyeong unlikely to return just yet, Cheon Muyang immersed himself in circulating and regulating his qi.
"What's the point of idling? Better stay diligent."
His consciousness sank deep.
From that day onward,
Cheon Muyang's daily routine changed.
He still ran the training grounds and swung his sword as before,but now he had to spar punctually every day with trainees designated by Cheon Seonhak.
"Why the hell do I have to do this?"
On the first day, Cha Myeonghak—chosen as the sparring partner—cursed Lee Seokgi.
"I knew it from the moment that bastard started throwing his weight around just because he was top trainee. A nobody acting above his station."
Cha Myeonghak harbored a grudge against Cheon Muyang.
"No—this works out perfectly. I'll trample him legally."
When Cha Myeonghak had first joined as a trainee,
he had witnessed the First Young Master drunkenly rampaging.
That had been his first encounter with Cheon Muyang.
"That butcher."
Swinging a sword wildly while drunk—he had looked exactly like an executioner.
Cha Myeonghak tried to stop him and was left with a scar on his face that would never fade.
"I'll pretend it was an accident and leave a mark on your body too."
How could he forget that vile connection?
Cha Myeonghak harbored malice.
Arriving at the training grounds, he searched for Cheon Muyang.
Cheon Muyang was there, swinging his sword—having lost weight, yet still thick-bodied.
"...."
Standing at the center of the training grounds, Cha Myeonghak expected Cheon Muyang to stop.
He must have noticed his presence.
"...."
But no matter how long he waited, Cheon Muyang did not stop.
Cha Myeonghak felt insulted.
Snap!
His brow furrowed sharply.
At that moment, a faint scent of tea drifted over.
Whip!
Turning his head, he saw—
an attendant calmly pouring tea.
"Ah...."
It was Wolyeong.
Holding a teacup, Wolyeong approached Cha Myeonghak.
"Please have some while you wait. It'll take a bit—he's only just begun."
"W-What did you say?"
"Once he starts training, he doesn't notice anything around him."
"...."
"I even prepared some snacks!"
Drawn in by Wolyeong before he realized it, Cha Myeonghak ended up eating the refreshments.
"He trains like this every day?"
"Yes. Sometimes I worry he might collapse."
"...."
Yet even as she said that, Wolyeong watched Cheon Muyang with unmistakable pride.
"You're the First Young Master's personal attendant?"
"Yes."
"You must've suffered a lot. Why do you support him?"
"It's true the Young Master made many mistakes in the past. But he's changed. He swings his sword to atone for those mistakes."
"...."
Cha Myeonghak mulled over her words.
"To atone for mistakes...."
He looked at Cheon Muyang again, with fresh eyes.
Now that he did, the body he'd thought of as merely piggish looked… sturdy.
'I'll acknowledge the effort.'
That effort wasn't false.
Hadn't he just seen it himself?
Scratch.
Cha Myeonghak felt a dull ache form between his brows.
Something felt like it was scratching at his nerves.
His body seemed tense for no reason.
He assumed it was just nerves.
So he brushed it off and looked at Cheon Muyang.
Whooong!
A sword cleaved through empty air.
'Come to think of it....'
The speed of the sword was remarkably consistent.
Cha Myeonghak observed Cheon Muyang's stance once more.
Chill!
The hairs on his arms stood on end.
A shiver ran through him.
'Not a hair's breadth off.'
It wasn't just the speed.
The trajectory, the point where the sword rose, the point where it stopped, the placement of each step, the distribution of force—even the position of the hand gripping the hilt.
'Everything is identical.'
How was that even possible?
No matter how rigorously trained an elite might be, achieving such perfect uniformity was impossible.
'H-how can a sword like this come from that butcher First Young Master?'
The prejudice surrounding Cha Myeonghak was cut apart.
Only then did he realize where Cheon Muyang's sword was aimed.
'D-Don't tell me....'
Cha Myeonghak instinctively touched the space between his brows again.
Whooong!
It throbbed.
It felt as though a sharp blade were hovering right before his forehead.
'F-from the very beginning... had he been swinging his sword at me?'
Even now—
Cheon Muyang's wooden sword was descending toward Cha Myeonghak.
"Th-this...."
What could this even be called?
Cha Myeonghak found himself unable to speak.
From the moment he stepped onto the training grounds,the duel with Cheon Muyang had already begun.
Cha Myeonghak lowered his head.
That was when—
"Ah, looks like I got too focused without realizing it."
Cheon Muyang'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 flew open.
How did he know his name?
"H-how do you know my name?"
"Well, you'll become an official warrior of our clan someday, won't you? I try to memorize names whenever I can."
Mu-myeong had received instruction from Cheon Seonhak and maintained connections with warriors of the Cheonryong Sword Unit and the Cheonbong Sword Unit.
That was how he had known Neung Ryeoun's name as well.
Cha Myeonghak, too, was someone destined to join the Cheonryong Sword Unit one day.
"...."
"Alright then, shall we begin?"
"I've lost."
"Huh? What did you say?"
Cheon Muyang doubted his own ears.
They had come to fight, and yet before the duel had even begun, defeat was being declared—what kind of sense did that make?
"I acknowledge my defeat, First Young Master."
For a moment, it seemed like mockery.
However, Cha Myeonghak bowed deeply with a solemn expression—he was sincere.
Glance.
Not understanding what was going on, Cheon Muyang shot a look toward Wolyeong.
[I. D o n ' t. K n o w. E i t h e r.]
Wolyeong replied silently with her lips.
She didn't know why Cha Myeonghak was acting this way either.
'He seemed so full of hostility, so I just offered him some tea... did I do something wrong?'
She could only doubt herself.
"Ah, um, but still, we should spar at least—"
"I'll prepare myself properly and challenge you again, Young Master."
Cha Myeonghak bowed respectfully, then left the training grounds.
"Tsk... just what in the world was that about?"
Wolyeong approached with a crestfallen expression.
"Could it be that the tea I made didn't taste good...?"
"Hey, how could that be?"
Instead of sparring,
Cheon Muyang began devouring the snacks Wolyeong had prepared.
"Stop eating already!"
"You told me to eat!"
"I'm worried you'll gain the weight back!"