Chapter 35
Chapter 35: Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven
The Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords (蓋天百八劍).
During his former existence, he had traversed the martial realm for nearly two decades, scrutinizing countless fighting disciplines before personally forging this method of the blade. Giving voice to such a claim felt faintly brazen, yet an impartial judgment yielded an undeniable truth: its foundational tenets possessed the majesty of an unrivaled swordsmanship and an extraordinary, peerless art. Yanghwi maintained this conviction because the discipline was fashioned to command sword energy alongside the qi of intent—the indisputable marks of one who had attained the pinnacle realm.
Gaecheon (蓋天). Shrouding the firmament.
Inherited from the era when the Baek Estate existed as the noble Baek clan, this imagery served as the core essence anchoring every martial style within the family. While formulating techniques for his bloodline in that previous life, Yanghwi had persistently searched for an answer.
What quality is required to wield a sword capable of blanketing the skies?
The clarity that settled upon him after years of deep contemplation was straightforward. The main lineage’s blade had to expand until it concealed the vast heavens above. Fulfilling that mandate demanded two opposing virtues: an immovable, boulder-like weight, coupled with an astonishing swiftness that merged distinct slashes into an unbroken sheet of steel.
Like a bird of prey sweeping across the boundless blue.
The conceptual form of heaven-shrouding martial art that Yanghwi settled upon was precisely that of a soaring hawk: wings cleaving the heights with unrivaled speed, paired with talons that gripped their quarry with unyielding ferocity.
Swiftness and weight (快 and 重).
Fierce velocity married to absolute stability.
A strike bearing the blinding quickness of a sunbeam and the crushing density of a mountain collided with an expansive blade that surveyed the whole of creation like the endless sky.
SKREEEE—!
Diving straight down through the clear azure, the hawk released an ear-splitting shriek.
The Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords (蓋天百八劍). Secret Art (奧義).
Hawk’s Cry Covering Heaven (鷹吼蓋天).
The system of the Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords was constructed upon six root postures, with each one dividing into eight permutations, generating fifty-four distinct forms. The art bore its grandiose name despite this count for one fundamental reason:
All fifty-four sequences were compressed into a mere half-motion.
Faster. Surpassing every limit of speed.
Fifty-four forms executed in twin succession. Within the span of a single collision, a solitary blade delivered every one of the one hundred and eight strikes. The furious velocity birthed an acute vibration—a metallic scream that mirrored the cry of a hunting raptor.
SKREEEE—!
Sound was ultimately physical vibration traveling through the air; elevate the rate of oscillation, and the tone rose in kind. Discharging fifty-four patterns twice within the boundary of a single breath birthed this resonant cry, offering undeniable testament that the Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords had attained perfection (大成). It went beyond the Bee Wing (蜂翼) and the Hundred Bee Wings (百蜂翼), breaking through to the supreme realm of the craft—a plane Yanghwi designated as the Hawk’s Cry realm (鷹吼之境).
“Very well. Let us bring this to a swift conclusion; I shall withhold nothing from the very beginning.”
Confronting the unending screeches of the raptor, Namgung Cheonyeong projected the entirety of his own martial vision and intent. For a heartbeat, an ethereal spectacle spread across the void—an infinite, azure sky devoid of a single cloud.
In that precise fraction of time—
SKREEE, SKREEEE—!
Hawk’s Cry Covering Heaven: colossal wings of blinding white swept outward, obscuring the sky. A piercing scream shattered the blue vault as though cleaving reality in two. The cascade of one hundred and eight strikes woven into that solitary stroke ripped Namgung Cheonyeong and the surrounding phantom world into vapor.
…It was finished.
The vision of his prior life warped, unraveling until the shadowy interior of the stone cavern settled back into his sight. He was once again within his youthful physique. His internal reserves were slight. His middle and upper dantians were presently intangible, sparing him any sensation of agony. Yanghwi clicked his tongue in mild dissatisfaction. Since he had been granted a glimpse into his former days, lingering inside the illusion a while longer might not have been terrible.
Where had Seolha ended up?
The answer came immediately, as choked weeping drifted through the gloom.
“Ahhh, Father! Stop, please! Please, no… hic…!”
Zhuge Seolha was slumped across the stone, weeping bitterly and pleading with the air. The phantasms spun by the melody and the formation array still held her captive. Yanghwi considered intervening, but checked his stride and settled onto the bare rock instead.
This final threshold belonged to her alone.
Hardy grass prospered because it endured the biting wind, and crude iron transformed into a peerless blade only through relentless hammering under the smith’s mallet. The crucible before her would forge her spirit. Yanghwi had no doubt of it.
You have the strength, Seolha.
Judging by the tenacity and grit Zhuge Seolha had displayed since crossing into the Five Halls of Proper Sound, her spirit possessed more than enough resolve to overcome the agony of her past.
A small child belonged in the shelter of warmth, tender devotion, and love. That was how the world was meant to be. No child ought to evoke any darker emotion from those who guarded them. …There had been a time when Zhuge Seolha knew that very warmth. Long ago.
“Seolha, as a child of the Zhuge clan, the hour has arrived for you to walk the martial path.”
“Yes, Father!”
Though she replied with a cheerful voice, five-year-old Zhuge Seolha felt a sudden, unsettling chill. A cold shiver rippled down her spine while something nestled deep within her seemed to cower in fear.
What is happening? I don’t understand.
“Our clan’s Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art represents an exalted discipline that directs the upper dantian. Guide its flow with the utmost prudence.”
A frantic whisper echoed in the hollows of her chest.
Stop!
A violent wave of instinctive resistance rose to stop her, yet as though guided by an outside hand, Zhuge Seolha initiated the circulation of the Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art. The moment she did, her peach blossom qi fractured out of control. The surrounding chamber filled with an oppressive, dark yin energy that simmered with suffocating heat.
“Ugh!”
“No, Father! Stop!”
Thud!
Her father drove the cold steel of a blade straight through his own hand. Zhuge Seolha shrieked in wild terror.
“Aaaahh! Father, no!”
Crimson drops fell to the ground, expanding into a dark pool upon the floorboards.
“Seolha. Forgive me.”
No, Father. It is my fault. I am the one who must beg for forgiveness, for burdening you with this agony simply because your daughter was cursed from birth, for forcing you to suffer such degradation.
In that instant.
The cycle reset, and Zhuge Seolha stood once more at the threshold of the memory.
“Seolha, as a child of the Zhuge clan, the hour has arrived for you to walk the martial path.”
“Yes, Father!”
Lacking Yanghwi’s refined senses, Zhuge Seolha remained blind to the intricate web of musical tones and qi manipulating her mind to sustain the illusion. Her spirit was forced to suffer the identical heartbreak and despair anew with every loop, experiencing the raw shock as if it were happening for the first time.
Thud!
A sharp edge tearing through a palm. Her father stood before her, his garments saturated with blood that extended far past his sleeves.
“Aaaahh, no, please! Stop!”
The world dissolved, only to rebuild the same scene.
Thud!
“Seolha, for a father to harbor desire toward his own blood… You have committed no crime. The fault lies entirely with this wretched father.”
“No! Please don’t say that, Father! Hic… sob…”
I bring nothing but misery to the people I love.
Her father and her brother had been gripped by unnatural longings they should never have known, tormented by self-hatred because of the affliction she carried. To the clan elders and her young peers, Zhuge Seolha was a living blight that brought only shame and self-disgust to those near her.
Thud!
I have no right to stand among people.
Thud!
Solitude is my only fate. My breath brings suffering to everyone else.
Thud!
Let me… let me just vanish from this world.
The moment that despairing plea crystallized in Zhuge Seolha’s heart—
—Zhuge Seolha.
—Whatever stands in your way, you must not hide.
The vision reset to its beginning.
“Seolha, as a child of the Zhuge clan, the hour has arrived for you to walk the martial path. From this day forward, you shall practice the Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art.”
“…Father.”
She saw this man every day of her life, so why did an agonizing longing tear through her chest at the sight of him?
“Our clan’s Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art represents an exalted discipline that directs the upper dantian. Guide its flow with the utmost prudence.”
“Yes, Father!”
She began the internal circulation of the Harmonious Heaven Primordial Art. Though she had been told to exercise extreme caution, her focus shattered instantly. Unbidden thoughts surged through her consciousness.
I refuse to surrender. I will not flee.
Why did such defiance grip her when she was facing neither a perilous trial nor an enemy? The instant the discrepancy struck her, the upper dantian, provoked by the technique, surged out of control. The dark yin energy erupted outward, smothering the room in sultry heat.
Peach blossom qi. Yes… I was born with a Peach Blossom Body.
The nature of peach blossom qi never provoked base desires toward the repulsive. Its nature resembled the dance of insects drawn to sweet nectar; once an onlooker perceived elegance or grace, the energy intoxicated their senses, clouding their mind. For that reason, those born with a Peach Blossom Body were gifted with unrivaled beauty under heaven. That truth had only been uncovered after three cautious, grueling years…
How could I know that?
A profound discord resonated through her thoughts. She was supposed to be a five-year-old child. Yet this very scene felt like an echo from years long buried. As if… as if… No, that was not the priority.
“Aaaahh!”
A cry escaped her lips. A fierce, unwavering resolve settled into Zhuge Seolha’s heart.
I will not allow Father to drown in shame and torment a second time.
If these fragmented thoughts held any truth, standing idle and weeping was not an option.
Thud!
A blade drove straight through flesh and bone. Yet the hand impaled by the steel belonged not to Zhuge Seon, but to Zhuge Seolha herself.
“Se-Seolha!!”
Her father stared at her, paralyzed by absolute disbelief. In her father’s eyes, Zhuge Seolha caught the clear reflection of his spirit. Before… before? Today marked the very first eruption of her inner affliction, so how could there have been a before? None of that mattered now.
Unlike the past, no shadow of tainted desire marred her father’s expression. There was only the raw, horrified agony of a parent witnessing his child bleed. In spite of the searing pain pulsing through her pierced hand, Zhuge Seolha smiled.
“Seolha! What have you done! Why would you harm yourself like this!”
Bathed in the untainted love of her father, Zhuge Seolha gave a gentle, peaceful smile.
“Father, I love you.”
With those words, the phantom realm shattered into dust.
Roughly two shichen had slipped away. It was an approximation based on internal cadence, but reasonably accurate. Throughout the two shichen following Yanghwi’s awakening, Zhuge Seolha had remained trapped between desperate weeping and sudden fainting spells.
Should I step in now?
As the Sound Empress had cautioned, the formation mechanisms safeguarding the Five Halls of Proper Sound were imperfect. In this fifth chamber, the recursive illusion seemed to be an unintended defect in the array. Allowing her to remain immersed in that torment risked inflicting lasting damage upon her mind.
And yet… if she breaks through on her own, her resolve will emerge unbreakable.
A few moments more. Just as Yanghwi resolved to wait—
“…”
The sound vanished. The weeping halted abruptly. The edges of Yanghwi’s mouth curved upward.
Well done. I knew you would break through, Seolha.
The torment on Zhuge Seolha’s features gave way to serenity. Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. In a flash, Yanghwi launched himself across the floor, closing the distance in a single leap before bellowing with all his might.
“BOO!”
“KYAAAH!”
Frightened half to death, Zhuge Seolha shrieked and leaped back, then glared with pure fury once she realized who it was.
“You… Senior Brother! What in the world is wrong with you?!”
“What’s wrong? You looked completely dazed, so I applied the most dependable waking remedy available.”
Faced with his shameless grin, Zhuge Seolha breathed hard, struggling to reign in her irritation.
“If you hadn’t saved me before, I’d smack you…”
“Did you think I’d just stand still and take it?”
“…One of these days, I swear I’ll…”
Before she could finish—
Clang!
A heavy iron gate, concealed so well in the shadows that they had failed to notice it, ground open, spilling brilliant sunlight into the cavern.
“…It seems we are finally through.”
“So it seems.”
A wave of deep sentiment washed across Zhuge Seolha’s face. After enduring nearly ten unbroken days within the trials of the Five Halls of Proper Sound, such relief was only natural.
“Let’s leave. I feel filthy; the first thing I need is a hot bath.”
“A bowl of piping-hot soup sounds better to me.”
Past the open threshold, the rugged mountain ridges stretched out beneath the sky.
“Senior Brother, which direction leads toward Hugok Inn?”
“Follow behind me.”
Determining their bearings from the sun’s angle and position, Yanghwi moved down the winding slope without hesitation. After roughly one shichen of walking, a large roof emerged where the mountain opened into the lowlands. It was Hugok Inn.
“Look, we’ve made it!”
Trailing behind Yanghwi, Zhuge Seolha’s expression lit up with delight, and she broke into a sprint toward the entrance. Shoving the heavy timber doors wide, she called inside.
“Father!”
“Se-Seolha! How have you already… Wait, your voice! You are speaking, yet your peach blossom qi is… it isn’t triggering?!”
“A great deal happened! Father, I love you!”
Listening to the voices drifting through the threshold of the inn, Yanghwi allowed himself a quiet grin. The grueling trial of initiation had reached its conclusion, and their standing as true disciples of the Sound Empress was finally secured.
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