Dreams of the Martial World (1)
I awoke to the sound of birds chirping.
This time, I found myself on a mountain path halfway up a hill. In the distance, I could see the fields from my first dream. The path seemed familiar, yet no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t recall ever being here.
Cheonma spoke gruffly.
[Training in broad daylight after a lifetime of martial arts?]
He was picking a fight because I had ignored my insomnia and returned to the dream.
[Haha, indeed.]
Reaching the pinnacle of martial arts felt like an endless journey of hardship.
[But you can see the end, can’t you?]
[The end? It feels like I’m just beginning.]
I had ascended quickly to the seventh level and reached the eighth, where most martial artists stopped. Especially with the more advanced arts, like the Demonic Divine Art, the difficulty peaked. Yet, I too had reached that peak.
[You think you’ll reach the ninth level easily?]
[We’ll see.]
I launched into the air, beginning my martial training.
I practiced the Demonic Divine Art until my internal energy was completely depleted.
By the time I finished, the mountain where I had first awakened had crumbled and disappeared.
In the barren land, I meditated, feeling the energy fill my core, and spoke with Cheonma.
[Hey, Cheongwang.]
[What?]
[How about that bet? Should we do it now?]
[Why push it when I said no?]
[Why not?]
[I have no wishes left.]
[Who doesn’t have at least one or two wishes?]
[Like what?]
I thought of his wishes for him.
To live. To leave my body.
Neither was easy for me.
Still young, would he have to live with me forever?
How could he endure the frustration?
To expel him from my body?
Perhaps the Great Separation Technique could work, but it wasn’t a simple choice.
He entered my body not through a technique but by accident. Could I really expel him with a technique? And if so, into whose body would he go?
Despite the difficulty, I thought of this wish for one reason.
I no longer wanted to kill him.
But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. It wasn’t my place. Where in the world would a martial alliance leader spare a demon? What if he caused chaos again?
So, I wanted to make a bet. I hoped he’d win and push me to keep my promise.
But Cheonma never brought it up.
[I’ve fulfilled all my wishes.]
He spoke as if seeing his children and grandchildren was his last wish.
[Must be nice, living without regrets.]
[Are you mad?]
[Not really.]
I lay back, contradicting my words with my actions.
[Let’s wake up now.]
Chirping, chirping.
I opened my eyes. The sun was setting outside the window.
[Darn! I need to sleep again?]
[Stop sleeping!]
I got up from the bed, teasing Cheonma again.
[Alright, let’s eat and then sleep.]
[You fool! Enough already!]
A dark aura emanated from Cheonwang’s body, enveloping the leader’s hall. It was much denser than the aura he had once exuded.
A martial artist standing guard inside the hall collapsed, vomiting blood upon exposure to the smoke.
Others rushed to help him, but they too fell, bleeding and dying.
The black aura was a malevolent force beyond human endurance, regardless of martial skill.
If anticipated, the subordinates should have been withdrawn. But Cheonwang didn’t care. He treated the martial artists like objects.
The scattered black aura gathered, forming a shape.
Amazingly, it was a human form, though only roughly discernible.
The face was grotesque, with eyes, nose, and mouth barely formed.
The mouth opened.
Perhaps because the form wasn’t complete, the sound was a murmur, unintelligible. It sounded like a code or a spell.
But Cheonwang seemed to understand, watching with meaningful eyes.
When it finished speaking, it dispersed, howling like a ghost.
The black smoke was absorbed into Cheonwang’s body.
He rose slowly from the seat. He glanced at the corpses around him but paid them no mind.
He walked to the window. The view from the leader’s hall was the most beautiful in the martial alliance.
But his eyes held no appreciation for the beauty.
Tension, danger, fear, malice, sorrow, and curses filled them.
A low voice escaped his lips. It wasn’t his usual voice. It was deeper, more humid.
”…You will never stop me.”
Ten days into my dream training.
For the past ten days, I had been immersed in the Dream Lotus Technique, training day and night. I trained like a madman, wondering how much more effort I could give.
Today, I was practicing the Soul-Reaping Sword Technique in the fields.
I had been using the Demonic Divine Art’s sword techniques, but today I suddenly wanted to try the Soul-Reaping Sword Technique. I didn’t know why. The urge just came.
After Cheonma criticized my incomplete swordsmanship, I realized I had misunderstood parts of the Soul-Reaping Sword Technique as my martial skills grew. Since then, I could use it perfectly.
I hadn’t used it much after mastering the Demonic Divine Art, but today I practiced it in the dream.
The techniques flowed one after another, faster and more powerful than ever.
Whirlwinds of energy surged as the techniques unfolded.
One, two, three, four… twenty, twenty-one… thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two….
The whirlwinds were endless, incomparable to before.
The power was overwhelming, as if the world was truly turning upside down.
The sixth form, the Great Annihilation, was unleashed.
Everything around me was obliterated. The range was far greater than before.
If the previous technique felt like the end of the world, this was the real end. Everything visible was gone. How else to describe it?
I hadn’t been using the full power of this martial art. Only now, with my advanced skills, could I truly see its potential.
[Incredible.]
[Indeed.]
Even Cheonma was impressed.
Next, I tried the Celestial Crane Technique.
My skills had surpassed the old dilemma of whether to use it dominantly or not.
The Celestial Crane Technique unfolded with extreme power.
I was certain. Even Cheonma’s grandfather, who created this martial art, couldn’t have known its true power.
After practicing the Celestial Crane Technique, I returned to the Demonic Divine Art’s sword techniques.
When I finished, I spoke quietly.
[I’ve reached the ninth level.]
[What? That’s insane! Don’t joke!]
Cheonma shouted, surprised. He hadn’t expected me to break through the ninth level’s barrier in just ten days.
[I told you, I thought I’d reach the ninth level easily.]
[How?]
[While practicing the three martial arts, I realized something. The distinction between righteous and demonic arts is meaningless.]
The Soul-Reaping Sword Technique is a righteous art.
The Demonic Divine Art is a demonic art.
The Celestial Crane Technique lies between them.
Today, I perfected these three martial arts to their extremes, breaking free from the distinctions and limits of righteous and demonic arts. I didn’t just know it in theory; I truly understood it. Now, the distinction between righteous, demonic, and evil arts was meaningless to me.
With this realization, I broke through the eighth level’s barrier and reached the ninth level of the Demonic Divine Art.
Perhaps this moment was destined from the time I learned the Celestial Crane Technique, bridging the gap between righteous and demonic arts.
[Congratulations.]
[Thank you.]
[I mean it.]
[I know.]
Yes, now I truly know. His feelings, too. Perhaps he knows mine well, which is why things have been more complicated lately.
[Only the great achievement remains.]
[You’ll achieve it, won’t you?]
[We’ll see.]
[Hahaha.]
Only the greatest hurdle remains.
Achieving greatness could happen tomorrow, or it might take a hundred years of training.
I recalled the old man I met at the Demonic Castle. He said a choice related to the demonic arts would be given upon achieving greatness.
What choice, what test would it be?
I can’t know now.
And my relationship with Cheonma will also reach its conclusion.
Cheonma spoke again.
[You, you really are something.]
Though it was mixed with a curse, I knew it was Cheonma’s highest praise.
I tried to banter with Cheonma, putting on a show of bravado.
[Heh, just figured that out, did you?]
Galsaryang’s reports continued to come in every time I woke up.
One piece of good news came in earlier: they had successfully delayed the first transfer of funds from Cheondo Gate to the Ma Iron Army. Gong Suchan had made some strategic moves with the trading companies and battlefields associated with Cheondo Gate.
Thanks to the excellent teamwork of those two, I could focus entirely on my training.
Chororong, chororororong.
Once again, I found myself in a dream.
As usual, I was about to soar into the sky but decided to sheathe my sword instead.
[Why is it always here?]
[What do you mean, why here?]
[Why is this place always the setting of my dreams?]
[Isn’t it nice? It’s spacious and empty.]
[True, but still.]
Sometimes I woke up on a mountain path, other times by a lakeside a little further away. There were days I awoke near a waterfall with a flowing stream, or in a beautiful bamboo grove too precious to forget. All these places were not far from this field.
I had been curious from the start, but my martial arts training took precedence, so I never delved deeper.
But now that my demonic energy had reached a certain level, my curiosity grew.
Why here?
Today, I intended to find out.
I began to walk slowly, letting my feet guide me. It was a place both familiar and unfamiliar. It felt known, yet I couldn’t recall ever being here.
How long had I walked? At the edge of the field, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.
In the distance, two figures were walking toward me. A boy and a girl, around fifteen or sixteen years old. The boy was a few steps ahead, with the girl following behind.
The sight of them sent a shockwave through me, leaving me speechless.
I knew them. Even from their childhood, they were unmistakable.
They were none other than the young Byeok Lidan and Song Hwarin.
I was so stunned I couldn’t utter a word.
The children walked right up to me, unaware of my presence. I was invisible to them, as this was both a dreamscape and a fragment of the past.
Byeok Lidan looked angry, while Song Hwarin was trying to console him.
“I’m sorry. I have no choice.”
“You don’t have to go.”
“I promised my father I would.”
“Fine! Just go, then!”
“Don’t be mad. I’ll train hard and come back.”
I realized it was the time when Song Hwarin left Shandong to learn martial arts from that strange master.
When I first awoke as Byeok Lidan, Gwangdu had mentioned that the two had been very close before she left. I, too, had changed a lot after she was gone.
Oh my goodness! The dreams I had been training in weren’t mine—they were Byeok Lidan’s!
That’s why the place felt familiar yet unknown.
But why?
Why was I suddenly dreaming Byeok Lidan’s dreams?