-Yul-ah.
There was sothing my master once told .
-“Soday, you’ll feel like the world is being especially cruel to you.”
He was my parent and my friend.
My friend and my everything.
He often said those words while sitting on his lap when I was a child.
Swoosh.
His hand, rough but gentle, stroked my hair.
-“When that ti cos, rember this.”
His voice was dry, yet soft.
-“Even if the world makes you suffer, know that it’s not your fault, Yul.”
He spoke those words to comfort when I ca crying after being tornted.
The young Seong Yul nodded at his words, but even after all these years, he couldn’t understand them.
Was it really not my fault?
The world grew darker and darker.
Murderous urges threatened to burst out at any mont.
No matter how much I recited the Daoist teachings, no matter how often I ditated, I couldn’t suppress them.
I want to kill.
I want to kill everything I see.
I don’t know why.
I don’t even understand why I feel this way.
But it felt like I had to do it—
As if it was the very reason I was born.
When I could no longer resist and bit my master’s hand as hard as I could,
He simply patted my back with the sa 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 couldn’t bear it, I crawled under the covers and faced the darkness alone.
That’s how I lived.
A cursed life.
A master who accepted for what I was.
Clinging to that thought was the only thing that kept going.
My master was my shelter.
He shielded and protected .
I endured because he was there.
I lived because he was there.
But now—
‘What am I supposed to do?’
Now that my master was gone, how was I supposed to live?
It was the thought that surfaced the first ti I killed soone.
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.
“...”
What did I feel back then?
Shaa—
That day, it rained.
The downpour was so intense that so 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 fear—the fear of having killed another human being.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel those things.
But even as those heavy emotions lingered,
What remained at the center—
Was ecstasy.
“Haa… Haa.”
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 sothing be so beautiful?
I was becoming addicted to killing.
And the mont I realized it—
“Urgh…!!”
I dropped to my knees and vomited.
“Gah…!”
I couldn’t stand the monster I had beco.
I couldn’t bear the thought that I admired death—
that I wasn’t human anymore.
I felt like a monster.
“Hic… Hic…”
Crying, I picked up my sword.
The sa sword I had used to butcher that man.
But this ti, I pointed it at my own throat.
If this was what I had beco, then I should just die.
I should disappear completely.
I made up my mind and prepared to slit my own throat.
-Yul-ah.
“...”
Then, I froze.
I thought I heard my master’s voice.
-“It’s okay.”
I rembered his words.
I saw his face, smiling even as he faced death.
-“So live.”
I couldn’t bring the blade any closer to my neck.
“…Ah…”
Could a life like this even have aning?
What value was there in clinging to this cursed existence, knowing I would one day beco a monster?
“Please…”
If soone knew the answer, I begged them to tell .
That day, in the rain,
I prayed.
“Jin Im-seok.”
“...”
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.
Thump—!
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.
‘Calm down.’
It’s fine.
He took a deep breath, calming himself.
He’s behind .
So it’s fine.
Repeating that thought, Seong Yul cooled his head.
“Jin Im-seok. Are you alright?”
The referee’s voice brought him back to reality.
He nodded.
“We’ll begin soon. Are you sure you’re ready?”
It was just a formality.
Seong Yul’s answer had already been decided before he stepped onto the stage.
“Yes. No problem.”
“Alright.”
The referee turned his gaze to the opposite side.
A man, clad in black from head to toe, stood before Seong Yul.
‘…Fallen Blade, was it?’
Peng Woojin.
The son of the Peng Clan’s Blade King.
That was his na.
“Peng Woojin.”
“I’ve been ready for a while.”
“…Alright. Then let’s prepare to begin.”
The referee’s words made Peng Woojin grin.
Seeing that grin gave Seong Yul an odd feeling.
‘What is this?’
He couldn’t describe it.
It was an inexplicable, eerie sensation.
It made him instinctively wary.
As Seong Yul furrowed his brow,
“Master Jin, was it?”
Peng Woojin spoke before the match started.
“Yes.”
The na still felt unfamiliar, but Seong Yul nodded because he had been told to use it.
“I see you’re close with Master Gu.”
“…Excuse ?”
Master Gu?
His tone sounded strange, but Seong Yul didn’t bother to correct him.
“What do you think?”
“…About what?”
“They say a friend of a friend is also a friend. Since I’m close with Master Gu, why don’t we strengthen our bond as well?”
“...”
Seong Yul was caught off guard by the sudden remark and couldn’t imdiately respond.
To ask such questions right before a duel—was he mocking ?
The thought flashed through my mind, but Seong Yul chose not to dwell on it.
‘There’s sothing important at stake.’
There was sothing he needed to gain from this match.
He couldn’t afford to be shaken by pointless distractions.
Srrng.
Before responding, Seong Yul drew his sword.
Peng Woojin, who had been smiling, montarily faltered.
“First, I must apologize.”
“Oh my…! A rejection? That’s quite disappointing.”
“It’s not so much a rejection as it is a clarification. I am not friends with Master Gu.”
“Hmm?”
He and I could not be described as friends.
“I rely follow in his footsteps. Our relationship is not one where I can call him a friend.”
Following him didn’t an treading the sa path he had walked or would walk in the future.
It was, quite literally, just following behind him.
“And furthermore—”
Seong Yul tightened his grip on his sword.
“While I appreciate Peng Woojin’s words, forging bonds would only cause hesitation when it cos ti to cross blades. I must, with apologies, decline.”
He couldn’t afford to hold back.
He had to win this duel—no matter what.
“Hmm.”
Peng Woojin let out a soft hum, as if disappointed by Seong Yul’s words.
Yet, he didn’t erase the smile from his face.
“What a sha. Though I can’t compare to Master Gu, you too have a rather pleasing color.”
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.
“I understand your reasoning well, which is why it’s even more regrettable.”
It was difficult to point a blade at soone with whom you’d ford a bond.
Peng Woojin seed to understand that sentint all too well.
“Which is precisely why I wanted to form that bond.”
“…?”
The words made Seong Yul furrow his brows.
“Prepare.”
The referee’s voice rang out.
Seong Yul imdiately steeled himself.
He couldn’t let his guard down.
He resolved never to lose focus against Peng Woojin.
Before stepping onto the stage, Gu Yangcheon had warned him:
-“Do everything you can. If you don’t, you’ll wish you died when I’m through with you.”
Just recalling those words sent a shiver down his spine.
But there had been aning in those words.
Gu Yangcheon had been giving him a heads-up.
Peng Woojin was strong—so strong that he needed to focus completely.
“Hoo.”
Tension.
Vigilance.
Concentration.
Seong Yul’s senses slowly sharpened, and his body ward up.
He gathered his energy through steady breaths, focusing entirely on Peng Woojin.
I won’t lose.
I have to win.
So that—
‘I can learn the truth about Master’s death.’
With that resolve, he hardened his determination.
The referee slowly opened his mouth.
“Begin.”
Swish—!
The referee’s hand, raised high, dropped down.
Seong Yul imdiately prepared to charge at Peng Woojin—
“My apologies in advance.”
Boom—!
“Kuugh!”
Thud.
‘What?’
With a sudden impact, Seong Yul’s knees buckled.
What just happened? With his vision blurred, Seong Yul barely managed to brace himself against the ground.
Drip.
Plop—!
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.
‘I lost consciousness…?’
It couldn’t 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 ?
Was it his fist? Or the flat side of his blade?
Whatever it was, he had definitely attacked .
At that mont—
“You see, normally…”
Peng Woojin’s voice rang out.
“I don’t particularly enjoy doing this.”
“…What?”
“No matter how much you try to teach the incompetent, it’s aningless. And since I can’t show too much, there’s only so much I can offer.”
He scratched his cheek, looking as though the whole situation annoyed him.
“But.”
“…!”
Seong Yul instinctively leapt back.
Crash—!!
Even as he spoke, Peng Woojin swung his blade, slicing through the spot where Seong Yul had just been.
Whoosh—!
The heavy blade exuded an ominous pressure, and Seong Yul swallowed nervously.
If he hadn’t dodged, his chest would’ve been torn open.
“This ti, however, it’s different. Soone I respect asked this of , and unlike those other fools, you’re not incompetent. So let’s see what you’ve got.”
Thud—!
Peng Woojin slamd his blade into the ground, and energy burst forth.
The blade began to darken.
“If I have one request for you, Master Jin… I hope—”
Vrrrrr—!!
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 ti to ask questions.
“I hope you make happy.”
The mont he finished speaking, Peng Woojin flashed a grin and lunged at Seong Yul.
Crash—!
“Urgh!”
Seong Yul groaned as he barely managed to block the attack with his sword.
Now he understood.
The unexplainable sensation he felt from Peng Woojin—
It was fear.
His instincts were screaming in terror.
Vrrng—!
He imdiately coated his blade with energy.
Peng Woojin’s relentless attacks were barely deflected, but each collision left Seong Yul’s mind reeling.
Boom—! Boom! Boom—!!
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.
Creak—!
“…!”
Their blades locked for a mont, but then Peng Woojin twisted his weapon, knocking Seong Yul off balance.
Boom—!
The pressure exploded, and Seong Yul’s arm recoiled violently, leaving his torso wide open.
He hurriedly gathered energy to defend—
Crack—!
But Peng Woojin struck with the flat of his blade, shattering the energy barrier.
The force was overwhelming.
Smash—!!
“Gah!”
The flat of the blade slamd into Seong Yul’s chest.
He clearly felt his bones rattle.
Whoosh—!!
The impact sent him flying across the stage, leaving a trail of blood.
“Urgh…”
Barely managing to stop himself, Seong Yul clutched his chest and gasped for breath.
Pain shot through him with every inhale—his ribs were likely cracked.
Even so, he had no ti to stop.
Peng Woojin wasn’t giving him any room to breathe as he pressed the attack.
Dodging the incoming strikes, Seong Yul’s thoughts raced.
‘He’s… strong.’
Terrifyingly strong.
It only took a few exchanges to realize—
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.
‘…I can’t win.’
The end was inevitable. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t overco 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 cruel—far too cruel.
Boom—!
The impact of Peng Woojin’s blade against Seong Yul’s 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.
“One more.”
Peng Woojin’s 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 couldn’t avoid it.
The mont he heard the words, the blade was already falling.
Boom—!!!
A heavier impact struck his blade.
“Ugh…!!!”
Thud—!
Once again, Seong Yul dropped to one knee.
His sword lowered as well.
‘Ah…’
This was the end.
As he stared at his sword, the thought crept in.
There was no way out of this.
Clang—!
His sword fell to the ground.
Seong Yul’s head drooped as he knelt.
His limbs were drained of strength.
His trembling muscles scread silently in agony.
‘…’
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.
‘I can’t win…’
He couldn’t do it.
It had been impossible from the start.
As his consciousness began to fade—
[Hey.]
“…!”
Flinch—!
A familiar voice jolted him awake.
[What the hell are you doing?]
It was Gu Yangcheon’s voice—through sound transmission.
Seong Yul imdiately 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.
[You’re giving up already? Are you insane?]
“...”
Seong Yul bit his lip under the barrage of scolding.
Normally, he would’ve just accepted it quietly, but this ti—
[…What am I supposed to do?]
For the first ti, Seong Yul lashed out, defying Gu Yangcheon.
That’s how cornered he felt.
[What do you an, what? Just fight. Don’t give up and fight.]
[I can’t win.]
[You can’t win? How the hell do you know that? What have you even tried?]
[…I’ve done everything I can. I can’t—]
[Ha.]
Gu Yangcheon scoffed as if he’d heard the most ridiculous thing.
[Everything? Don’t make laugh. You’ve still got plenty left in the tank.]
[No…! I swear I’ve—]
[You’ve done everything, yet you still have the energy to talk to through sound transmission? You call that giving it your all?]
[…!]
Seong Yul froze, unable to refute him.
[You haven’t done anything. You took a few hits and decided to quit. That’s all this is.]
Clench.
Seong Yul’s fist trembled.
He wanted to argue back, but he had no words to defend himself.
[Stop acting like a child. Don’t tell yourself you’ve done everything when you haven’t done shit. That’s pathetic.]
[You—what do you even know—]
[I don’t know, that’s why I’m telling you to show , you idiot! You’ve still got more to give. So stop making excuses and pick up your damn sword.]
Gu Yangcheon’s frustrated tone only made Seong Yul’s anger rise.
Part of him wanted to give up, to end it all—but then—
[Are you deaf? If you walk off that stage, I swear I’ll 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 scread in protest as he tried to move.
“Ugh… ah…”
He staggered, barely able to stand.
Peng Woojin was watching him with a relaxed expression, as if waiting to see what he’d do next.
His eyes seed to say, ‘Go ahead. Try sothing.’
[Giving up only counts when you’ve truly done everything.]
Gu Yangcheon’s voice echoed in his mind as he willed himself to stand.
[What you’re doing now isn’t giving up—it’s running away.]
What’s the difference?
Seong Yul couldn’t understand.
[Get it together.]
“...”
[You know it too. There’s still more you can do.]
More I can do?
Seong Yul’s eyes cleared slightly.
Gu Yangcheon was right—there was still sothing he hadn’t done.
Sothing 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 lock—so fragile it looked like it would shatter with a touch.
It sealed a door.
But despite the lock’s frailty, a sinister energy seeped out from the cracks.
He couldn’t open it.
If he did, the monster inside would consu him.
That fear had always stopped him.
“...”
Seong Yul took a deep breath, staring at the lock.
I don’t know.
What does he expect to do?
I don’t understand.
The lock was all he could see.
It was the source of his curse.
He knew he shouldn’t touch it, but—
[Don’t be scared.]
Gu Yangcheon’s words echoed again.
[You’ll be fine.]
“...”
Before he even realized it, Seong Yul’s hand touched the lock.
Click.
Crack—!
With the faintest touch, the lock shattered.
Creak—!
The door it had sealed burst open.
And at that mont—
Whooosh—!!!
The energy inside surged forth and engulfed Seong Yul completely.
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