Chapter 273

Chapter 273
## Chapter 273. Someone’s Malice (4)

—

The weather was bright and clear.
Per custom, Sun-jik-Cheol was whiling away the hours inside a neighborhood gambling house. Though the people around him viewed the second son of the Juk-hyeon-bang Sect Leader with disdain for loitering in the slums, he paid them no mind. From the very beginning, he possessed no desire to contest his Hyung for control of the Juk-hyeon-bang; his sole aim was to relish the affluence and privileges granted by his birth while indulging his gambling habits.
Yet, that particular day broke the pattern. His good-natured but thick-headed Hyung arrived at the betting parlor in person and escorted Sun-jik-Cheol back to their residence.
“What is the meaning of this? Normally, you never utter a word even if I completely skip these gatherings.”
Even his usually gentle Hyung let out a heavy breath, clearly exasperated.
“Have you truly let today’s date slip your mind?”
Sun-jik-Cheol blinked in thought. Just what sort of critical matter could possibly be happening…
“Ah! Today is when the individuals from Jong-nam are scheduled to arrive, correct?”
“You foolish boy!”
His slow-witted Hyung immediately scanned the surroundings in a panic, terrified that an outsider might have overheard. What did it matter if a few street criminals caught wind of it? Sun-jik-Cheol sneered at him internally, though he kept his expression neutral.
“Such loose speech must never be permitted to escape your mouth!”
“Oh, come now.”
With that, he flung an arm over his Hyung’s shoulder. Ultimately, it was this timid and dull nature that made it utterly impossible to truly dislike the man.
“I understand completely! In exchange, once this formal gathering concludes, you are treating me to drinks, Hyung.”
“Good grief! You wretched boy! Precisely how long do you intend to do nothing but feast and amuse yourself?”
Precisely how long? Well… Sun-jik-Cheol stared at the countenance of his Hyung, which lacked even a shred of ambition, and let out a soft laugh.
“I would gladly feast and amuse myself for the remainder of my days if I could. While leaving every single burden of the Juk-hyeon-bang squarely on your shoulders, Hyung.”
“What am I to do with you…”

To Sun-jik-Cheol, both this formal event and the people of Jong-nam were entirely devoid of interest. It was a mutual gathering conducted once every five years because of the lineage of their founder (Sajo), who had once been a lay disciple of Jong-nam. Given that the legacy of the Juk-hyeon-bang had spanned three centuries by now, he failed to see what relevance being a mere lay disciple held in this day and age. Moreover, the Juk-hyeon-bang was a prominent clan that served as a core pillar of the 12 Peaks. Considering that the ultimate objective of the 12 Peaks was to eventually eclipse the Nine Sects and One Gang as well as the Five Great Families, he viewed a welcoming ceremony masquerading as an exchange meeting as nothing more than a hollow, superficial performance.

Even so, he endured the introductory greetings with patience. He likewise tolerated the demonstration where they displayed their respective martial prowess and engaged in theoretical debates (Mu-ron). He possessed zero passion for it, but he believed he had fulfilled the baseline obligations required to relish his perks as the second son of the Juk-hyeon-bang.

Be that as it may,
“I have been informed that you are the degenerate of the Juk-hyeon-bang?”
The concluding portion of the exchange meeting consisted of a duel (Bi-mu). The Jong-nam disciple who stood opposite him as his challenger flung this insult out of nowhere, causing Sun-jik-Cheol to tilt his head in amusement.
“Hmm… was that truly the grandest taunt your mind could devise?”
“What did you say?”
“Rather than labeling me a ‘degenerate,’ utilizing insults like ‘moron’ or ‘imbecile’ would likely inflict far more emotional distress.”
To think he was being targeted with an insult so entirely devoid of impact.
“…You put on quite the facade of relaxation.”
“Nonetheless, they say one can discern ten traits by observing just one; this is hardly an enjoyable encounter.”
He felt no personal injury from the disparaging remarks leveled at his character, but the young man’s demeanor caused Sun-jik-Cheol to knit his brows in irritation. This person was, when all was said and done, a visitor welcomed into the Juk-hyeon-bang. Yet, treating Sun-jik-Cheol, who held a status equivalent to a master within the Juk-hyeon-bang, with such utter disrespect was clear proof that he would treat the remaining members of the household with even greater malice. The reason he tolerated being berated by the clan of the Juk-hyeon-bang was because they were his own flesh and blood. Realizing that this outsider had treated his family with such arrogance caused his inner emotions to turn freezing cold.
“You are a visitor here, so how about displaying a modicum of civility?”
“Hmph, I shall discover whether your capabilities match the arrogance of your tongue.”

Perchance that was the catalyst. He originally lacked any desire to exert himself, but a sudden urge arose within him not to suffer defeat. Knowing he could not triumph through orthodox martial expertise alone, he brought down the Jong-nam disciple by employing techniques like ‘shifting the center of gravity’ and ‘disrupting posture,’ methods he had perfected during his time among street thugs.
“Is this performance sufficient to validate my perspective?”
“……”
The disciple from Jong-nam clamped his jaws firmly together. He was not the only one. The entire courtyard fell so profoundly silent that even the intake of air could not be detected. Sun-jik-Cheol turned his gaze across the audience. He assumed that even if enthusiastic shouting failed to manifest, there would at least be polite handclaps. After all, deafening praise had broken out every single time a disciple of Jong-nam bested a martial artist from the Juk-hyeon-bang. Instead, the lively energy of the gathering had instantly turned freezing cold, as though doused by a sudden downpour.
“Sect Leader Cheol!”
With an authoritarian cry as biting as a winter frost, the senior masters of Jong-nam brought the duel to a screeching halt.
“How dare an individual whose heritage traces back to Jong-nam strike a foe with such incredibly base and underhanded tactics!”
Sun-jik-Cheol sneered at their outrage. Where did dishonor or righteousness exist when hovering on the precipice of life and death? He had never encountered a person who, upon perishing because they blinked against dirt flung into their eyes by a foe, complained that the match was unfair. In the slums, martial masters who strutted about with pride in their stance would frequently transform into forgotten ghosts due to precisely those kinds of thug maneuvers. Just as he was pondering, ‘Does residing in an isolated paradise separate from actual combat render a person that utterly detached?’…
“…!”
Sun-jik-Cheol’s gaze expanded in absolute shock at the spectacle occurring right before him.
“I—I offer my deepest apologies.”
“““We offer our deepest apologies.”””
Sun-jik-Cheol’s sire, his uncle, and every single senior member of the Juk-hyeon-bang dropped to their knees at a solitary command from the elder.
“Hmm.”
The senior master of Jong-nam accepted that display as nothing less than his proper due, and the figures of the Juk-hyeon-bang, who had previously carried themselves with immense grandeur while proclaiming to be the pillars of the 12 Peaks, behaved as though they were merely fulfilling a mandatory obligation. Above Sun-jik-Cheol’s head, as he stared ahead with a completely vacant expression, a cold, emotionless voice descended.
“For what reason are you not dropping to your knees?”
The instant the senior master’s words hit the air, Hyeon-jik-Cheol rushed forward in a panic and forced his younger brother’s frame toward the dirt.
“Quickly, prostrate yourself… I beg for forgiveness! We are deeply sorry…!”
Even so, Sun-jik-Cheol resisted that downward force with an unyielding posture and whispered under his breath.
“Do the adversaries of Jong-nam invariably launch their assaults while adhering strictly to proper etiquette and established rules?”
“What?”
His mouth contorted as a mocking laugh escaped him.
“I am inquiring whether, when standing in front of Jong-nam, even the psychotic killers of the Unorthodox Faction suddenly regain their wits and display deep veneration.”
“Ha! My word, you truly have failed to grasp the reality of your situation!”
A look saturated with absolute loathing, as though peering down at an insignificant bug. The senior master, acting as though even interacting with him was a waste of breath, redirected his attention to the Juk-hyeon-bang Sect Leader and applied severe pressure.
“Sect Leader Cheol, what course of action will you take?”
Sun-jik-Cheol likewise shifted his gaze toward his sire. The father who had perpetually stood as the unyielding bedrock of the Juk-hyeon-bang. Yet, what met his eyes was…
“I am deeply sorry.”
“…!”
A sturdy wooden pillar utterly shattered by a single blow from an axe. It was the crushing image of his father begging for forgiveness with his forehead pressed flat against the ground.
“Fa—Father…”
“I offer my profoundest regrets to the Elder.”
The tone of his father, who had consistently radiated absolute certainty within himself and toward the outside world, was broken and diminished unlike any moment prior.
“The fault lies entirely with me for neglecting to discipline my offspring correctly.”
The elder of Jong-nam, staring down at the Sect Leader who was striking his skull against the earth, calmly twirled his long, trailing facial hair.
“Human beings are fundamentally creatures who only experience remorse after suffering the consequences of their errors.”
“I shall personally confine him to the gold prison…”
“How can an individual who remains incapable of governing his own flesh and blood expect to guide an entire martial sect competently?”
“……”
Statements that Sun-jik-Cheol found entirely incomprehensible were traded back and forth.
“……”
His sire, who had remained bowed in absolute silence for a prolonged duration, ultimately uttered words that sent shockwaves through him.
“As of this very day, I shall relinquish my role as the Sect Leader of the Juk-hyeon-bang.”
The gathered disciples of the Juk-hyeon-bang desperately attempted to muffle their voices, but cries of pure despair slipped out from all sides. A father volunteering for a preposterous penalty for an entirely preposterous justification.
“I shall convey this decision to the main mountain.”
And the elder of Jong-nam accepted that concession as an absolute certainty. Only in that precise moment did the truth dawn on him.
“Ha…!”
The stark reality that even though three centuries had rolled by, the heavy chains forged by Jong-nam had never truly been severed. The realization that even maintaining their status as part of the 12 Peaks that stood against the Nine Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Families was a privilege allowed solely because Jong-nam granted its assent. It had been true up until this moment, and it would remain true going forward.
‘No matter how desperately the Juk-hyeon-bang fights for independence, it will ultimately never rise above the level of a mere servant to Jong-nam.’
The senior master of Jong-nam appeared to be projecting that exact sentiment through his haughty gaze. The senior master of Jong-nam then assisted the Sect Leader to his feet, as though executing an act of great clemency.
“I shall personally choose the subsequent leader of the sect, ensuring it is someone who will never tarnish the reputation of our Jong-nam.”
“…Y—You have my gratitude.”
In a scenario where it would not even be sufficient to hurl curses and level accusations, he instead expressed deep appreciation. Because he possessed no true strength, he was entirely unable to manifest his genuine feelings. Furthermore, it was a perfect snapshot demonstrating precisely how much the Juk-hyeon-bang had been dragged about like a common hound by Jong-nam for generations. For one martial group to dictate the vital and trivial internal choices of an entirely separate, sovereign organization meant that the latter was not a sovereign entity at all. The idealized vision of a dependable and honorable clan that had always occupied the deepest recesses of Sun-jik-Cheol’s mind was utterly reduced to fragments.
“Father…”
“…Quiet down, stay silent.”
The form of his sire, which had previously seemed as vast and unshakable as a massive peak, appeared incredibly diminished while bent low upon the dirt floor. The resonant and commanding voice that had always sounded powerful felt exceptionally pathetic on that particular afternoon. Sun-jik-Cheol, refusing to avert his gaze from his father’s isolated figure, squeezed his fists with immense force.
The weather was bright and clear. To such an extent that Sun-jik-Cheol, who harbored a deep dislike for aimless strolls, experienced a sudden desire to go for a walk. On that bright and clear day, Sun-jik-Cheol swore a sacred oath that he would absolute tear down the heavens themselves.

For what reason had the occurrences of his youth suddenly manifested in his consciousness? No, from the very start, they had not merely drifted back into his thoughts. Because he had never permitted them to slip from his memory for a single instant. He had simply been recalling them. To guarantee he would not retreat before the terrifying adversary currently standing before his eyes.
“So-un-Jin!!!”
On that fateful afternoon, he had forged a relentless vow. No matter how much of his own lifeblood was spilled, no matter what chaos enveloped the lands, he would absolute tear down the heavens themselves. By grinding down his own existence, which he held as the most precious thing in creation, and if that fell short, by grinding down the existence of his own child, and if even that proved insufficient, by grinding down the existences of his future lineages. He swore and swore anew that regardless of the toll demanded, he would absolute tear down the heavens that had dominated the realm for five centuries. Because existing as a common serf in this manner was utterly unacceptable.

For that reason, he could not afford to stumble and fall over a minor impediment. Even if that impediment was fearsome enough to lacerate his spirit and shatter his skull. No, quite the contrary, precisely because it posed such a lethal threat, he concluded it absolute had to be destroyed. Because that impediment must never be allowed to transform into the heavens.
Sun-jik-Cheol ground his teeth together at the advancing ranks of the Red Army. If events proceeded along this trajectory, his calculations would be thrown into disarray once more. So-un-Jin would yet again triumph over a trial that should have been entirely insurmountable.
“It is you once more, So-un-Jin! It is you once more…!”
Just how could a human being’s rate of advancement be this incredibly rapid? It was not as though he had entered this world endowed with unparalleled genius like Yong So-a.
‘But for what reason…!’
For what precise reason was the chasm separating his own self from So-un-Jin, both of whom possessed the capabilities of a common man (beon-in), this immensely vast? Was it truly a consequence of sheer dedication? He refused to entertain such a notion. Consequently, he advanced personally. To finalize the predetermined outcomes he had meticulously set into motion.
“Your journey likewise terminates at this spot, So-un-Jin!”
He surged forward with greater velocity than any other warrior within the White Army. The soldiers of the Red Army threw themselves into his path while fully accepting the risk of elimination, but Sun-jik-Cheol wielded his blade with even greater ferocity in response.

Slash—
Thump!

He seized an opponent’s uniform to compromise their balance and slammed the pommel of his blade directly into a temple. The surrounding combatants of the Red Army widened their eyes in sheer amazement at his solitary action. Sun-jik-Cheol, discarding his customary composure, bellowed at the top of his lungs.
“Did you truly believe that you were the sole individuals who engaged in training that completely discarded the use of internal energy!”
Long before mastering formal martial styles—in fact, even after mastering formal martial styles, he had never once relied on internal energy while brawling with back-alley criminals. Because doing so stripped away all the entertainment. Because the stakes plummeted and there was no sense of mortal peril. The sensation known as pure exhilaration erupts with the greatest intensity at the precise flashpoint when one senses their own demise is imminent. And the rush experienced when dominating that mortal peril delivers a monumental level of gratification that cannot be paired with anything else in existence.

For that reason, Sun-jik-Cheol is far more skilled in raw physical brawling and close-quarters combat than any other person within the White Army. As though he comprehended flawlessly the exact motion required of him, he snatched a handful of soil and debris from the earth without a shred of hesitation and hurled it straight into the foe’s vision.
“Argh!”
The classic maneuver utilized most frequently by street criminals. While the combatants of So-un-Jin’s squad were desperately clawing at their vision from the sudden underhanded strike, he slammed his fist into their midsections and chopped the back of their necks to render them completely insensible.
“Urgh.”
Striding over the collapsing form of the Academy scholar, he bounded ahead. Instantly, alternative forces swarmed him one after another like ravenous predators. The most effective method to dominate individuals who appear to have abandoned their senses to battle fury is to display an even more unhinged ferocity. A presence so alarmingly feral that it would send an electric jolt of fear directly to a mind buried under rage. Sun-jik-Cheol completely relinquished his rationality to that wild exhilaration.

The combatants of the Red Army likewise yelled out with bitter defiance.
“Obstruct his path!”
Those who had specialized in striking and kicking disciplines swarmed Sun-jik-Cheol at the exact same moment. Sun-jik-Cheol’s focus was locked entirely on the individual possessing the most massive physical frame among them.
“Hwa-seong-Nam!”
The moment Hwa-seong-Nam’s movements faltered because his name had been barked out as if spat with venom, the empty sheath shot forward from Sun-jik-Cheol’s grip and completely obscured Hwa-seong-Nam’s line of sight. Immediately following that, a freezing tone pierced the air.
“If you intend to perpetrate an act of treason, you ought to execute it flawlessly. If you designate an individual as a foe, there must be no room for a concept like leniency.”
“…!”

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!

Hwa-seong-Nam found it entirely impossible to properly counter Sun-jik-Cheol’s swordplay, which lunged forward while continuously threatening critical pressure points (yo-hyeol). To contend with Sun-jik-Cheol while constantly falling back, he had already depleted the entirety of his physical reserves in the preceding engagements and during the grueling ascent of Baek-san. Sun-jik-Cheol understood Hwa-seong-Nam’s capabilities better than anyone alive. He thrust a hidden blade once more toward Hwa-seong-Nam’s midsection.
“With that brand of superficial determination, the ultimate fate of the Sam-won-mun is completely transparent.”
“Curse you… cease spouting that absolute garbage!!!”
The instant the enraged Hwa-seong-Nam abandoned his defensive posture and attempted to strike back, a snapping kick shot forward like a bolt of lightning and slammed directly into Hwa-seong-Nam’s throat.
“Gack, gack, guh!”
The single greatest vulnerability within human anatomy that cannot be hardened regardless of how intensely one trains. Every single nerve in his frame sensed a fatal crisis, and Hwa-seong-Nam automatically brought his palms together to shield his damaged throat. Observing that reaction, Sun-jik-Cheol pushed lightly off the earth and soared upward.
“Witness this truth, even the striking and kicking methods, the foundational martial disciplines of the Sam-won-mun, are entirely incapable of matching the Juk-hyeon-bang.”
Sun-jik-Cheol, having spun his frame mid-air, drove his elbow straight into Hwa-seong-Nam’s temple.

Crack—

That colossal frame rolled its eyes upward and crashed backward onto the earth from that singular strike. As Hwa-seong-Nam collapsed, the charging squad momentarily froze in place. Seizing upon that precise vulnerability, Sun-jik-Cheol’s comrades, their spirits magnified a hundredfold, charged into the fray and commenced hacking down the forces of the Red Army.
“Advance! Drive them backward!”
“They have deliberately honed their techniques for this! Counter them!”
“They are thoroughly drained from scaling this peak regardless! Do not throw away this chance!”
The forward drive of the Red Army, which had been carving through the battlefield without any obstacle to slow it down like an unstoppable juggernaut, was completely blunted. The most prudent course of action the Red Army could adopt at this juncture would be to hold a brief stalemate and bide their time until support forces made it to the scene. However, Sun-jik-Cheol completely eliminated that possibility from his mind. So-un-Jin would not sit idly by and wait. Because he would yet again shatter the boundaries of logic and transform the impossible into reality.

True to his expectations.
“Advance!”
“Advance!”
So-un-Jin, who had reorganized his forces during the momentary lull, once more formed them into a penetrating wedge formation and began to slice directly through the White Army lines.
“So-un-Jin…”
A minor impediment? Far from it. He is a massive peak far greater than Yong So-a. A colossal mountain blocking the path to ensure an individual cannot presume to ascend to the heavens. Nonetheless, if one proves incapable of scaling this peak, they can never hope to tear down the heavens. How could someone who could not even fell a massive peak expect to shatter the heavens themselves? The shrunken form of his sire bowing before the heavens on that distant day flashed vividly across his mind.
“So-un-Jin… I despise you.”
It was a faint murmur that should have been swallowed up and lost amidst the roaring battle cries and agonized shrieks echoing in every direction, yet So-un-Jin turned his gaze directly toward him as though he had perceived those exact words. He shifted his lips as if delivering a reply. No actual sound reached his ears, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt he comprehended precisely what was being communicated.

[The sentiment is entirely mutual.]

He unleashed feelings that had not been genuine a single time since that original day of utter degradation.
“So-un-Jin, I hold a deep bitterness toward you. Because I find myself entirely incapable of averting my gaze from you.”
The bitterness and fury that had been stacking higher and higher up to this exact moment spilled forth all at once, as though a heavy floodgate had been smashed open.

[Sun-jik-Cheol, I view you with absolute hostility. Because I find myself entirely incapable of averting my gaze from you.]

He struggled with everything he possessed to ensure his inner conviction remained unbroken.
“I cast a curse upon you. Seeing that we are forbidden from gazing toward the identical horizon.”
He battled with every ounce of his strength simply to avoid being entirely swallowed by the massive peak.

[I look upon you with disdain. Seeing that we are both yearning for the exact same outcome.]

Recognizing full well that he could not best the massive peak with a solitary blade, he charged ahead anyway. Because this blade was destined to tear down the heavens in the days to come.
“So-un-Jin!!!”
“Sun-jik-Cheol!!!”
Slicing cleanly through the sprawling ocean of combatants, Sun-jik-Cheol sprinted directly at So-un-Jin.