Two months had passed since I entered the academy.

Soon, the harsh winter would give way to a bright spring, and the frozen ground would thaw, preparing for blooming flowers.

And damn it.

Without doing anything, I had aged another year.

‘This sucks.’

In the past, I didn’t care much about aging. But now, getting older only reminded me that time was slipping away.

Each passing day was proof that my remaining time was growing shorter.

Knowing that the time left to me was different from others made each day feel precious.

It had been a month since I visited the hidden vault under the academy, and in that time, many things had happened.

The first was that word about the vault had reached the Martial Alliance. While the academy's training was ongoing, they couldn’t conduct an investigation immediately.

However, a strong barrier had been placed around the vault's surroundings. On top of that, because of my and Jang-ryong's nighttime activities, the number of patrols had increased, expanding their range as well.

Like unnecessary sentinels. I wouldn't be surprised if the instructors were holding a grudge against us for causing this situation.

‘I do feel a bit guilty about that.’

Even in my previous life, I hated guard duty, so I felt quite apologetic.

But what could I do? I have my own problems to deal with. I can't live my life worrying about others.

‘Tsk.’

In any case, as the investigation from the Martial Alliance loomed, we were asked to cooperate in the matter of the vault's discovery.

To clarify, it was a request for 'cooperation,' not an interrogation or an investigation into how we found the vault.

This was likely due to my backing as a member of the Gu family and the fact that I was known as the True Dragon.

‘Seems like Il Gyeolpa was helpful after all.’

The fact that my information came from the Justice Faction’s Beggars' Sect must have helped. Thankfully, it seemed to work.

Of course, the fact that we had broken the rules by wandering around at night was a mark against us, but I decided to leave that concern aside for now.

‘Next is the issue with the Sword Empress.’

The reason she helped me by drawing Cheonghaeilgeom’s attention for a while was because of a precious item known as the Plum Stone.

According to the Sword Empress, it was supposed to be in the vault I had found.

But even if it had been there...

‘What if it's already gone?’

Though the Sword Empress had said if I couldn’t find it, it was fine, her expression had said otherwise.

‘It seems like the problem is bigger than just the Plum Stone.’

She seemed to be in shock about something, even more than just the absence of the Plum Stone.

‘Did Cheonghaeilgeom say something?’

I had no way of knowing what conversation had passed between them, so I could only move on.

The real problem at hand, though...

‘What should I do with this thing on my arm?’

The problem was the object wrapped around my left arm.

A pale pink cloth was tightly wound around it, like a bandage, but it was clear this wasn’t an ordinary cloth.

First of all, it was stuck to my arm and wouldn’t come off no matter what I tried.

No matter how hard I tried to peel it off, it wouldn’t budge, as if it had become a part of my skin.

On top of that...

‘If it were just any old cloth, that would be fine.’

The problem was the faint but strong presence emanating from it. It wasn’t a subtle energy but a distinct one.

The intense Dao energy I had felt when Shin Noya had saved me in the vault was now coming from my left arm.

This was clearly the energy of Mount Hua.

And because of it, the Dao energy in my dantian that I had inherited from Mount Hua hummed constantly, as if resonating with it.

‘But what exactly is this cloth?’

The fact that Shin Noya had grasped it with such urgency when he controlled my body meant that he must have recognized it as a valuable artifact.

It was highly likely that it had belonged to him at one point.

According to Yeon Il-cheon’s remnant thoughts, the vault had been prepared as a fateful encounter for Shin Noya.

‘But what is this thing?’

I already had enough valuable items attached to my body, so having another one was almost comical at this point.

And this one was particularly conspicuous. It wasn’t just an invisible treasure like the others—it was blatantly visible to anyone.

‘It doesn’t seem to have any special abilities, though.’

Maybe it’s just a cloth that emits Dao energy? Or is there another use for it that I don’t know about?

‘The person who could tell me is asleep again, and that’s the problem.’

After saving me, Shin Noya had fallen back into his slumber.

And to top it off...

‘Even the beast has gone quiet.’

The creature that had constantly cried for food every day had hidden its presence ever since that event.

Has it disappeared? No, it’s still inside me—I can feel that much.

Time passes, and with it, strange things continue to swim around me, circling my head and making me dizzy.

As if they were fish, circling endlessly.

Tap, tap.

My fingers tapped the table rhythmically, a habit I’d picked up when things got too complicated.

‘The vault is done with.’

I also have a habit of setting aside things I can’t figure out.

That habit is relatively recent.

I had too much to do to waste time dwelling on unsolvable issues.

So, I would push them aside and focus on the tasks at hand. It was almost like an obsession.

Tap, tap.

As my fingers continued to tap the table, I began mentally sorting through people’s faces and names.

‘That one’s from the Beggars’ Sect, so finding him might be tough right now. Where was the other one from?’

The reason I was going over these people one by one was simple.

‘There’s more than I thought. Can I kill them all?’

I was mentally listing all the people I needed to kill.

I knew well that the concept of justice and honor in this world had long since died.

I had realized it fully after the Bloodshed Calamity.

Though the righteous factions acted as though they were virtuous, many were rotten on the inside.

In contrast, the so-called demonic factions, who acted however they pleased, often clashed with the orthodox sects and the Martial World.

If anything, the demonic factions seemed more honest.

This was why I had marked the moment I left Shinryongwan as the start of my mission.

I would kill all those who needed killing.

Raising my martial abilities was necessary to carry this out smoothly.

Wooong.

‘Again.’

The familiar sensation made me grimace.

Lately, I’d been feeling lightheaded more frequently.

Though the dizziness passed quickly if I endured it, the queasy feeling left me in a bad mood.

"Sigh."

I even wondered if vomiting would make me feel better.

"Student."

‘Is it from a lack of training? Maybe I should extend my training hours….’

"Student Gu Yangcheon."

"...!"

I had been so lost in thought that I hadn’t even heard my name being called.

When I snapped back to attention, I saw Instructor Cheol-han-oh glaring at me with a deep frown.

Right, I was in class right now.

"Yes, sir."

"I’ve called your name three times already. Should I assume you weren’t paying attention?"

"I answered, sir. Perhaps you didn’t hear me because I spoke too softly."

"Oh-ho."

Of course, that was a lie.

Cheol-han-oh probably knew it too, which is why his face was contorted in such frustration.

I hadn’t known a person’s face could crumple like that.

That’s some new information for me.

"Since you were supposedly paying attention, I have a question for you."

"Of course, sir. I’m listening."

"Why is the Blue Heavenly Bird less active at night?"

"Oh, that’s because they’re trying to mate. They’re quite perverted, so they only do it at night."

"..."

"And as long as you avoid their beaks, you’ll be fine. They can’t fly, so you can just catch them and burn them—"

"That’s enough."

"Yes, sir."

Well, it’s good information, but I guess he wasn’t interested.

The Blue Heavenly Bird is a type of demonic creature with wings, though it can’t fly.

Its neck is longer than a chicken’s, and it’s one of the few demonic creatures known to mate.

Interestingly, they only do it at night, which is why they’re less active during the day. This also makes them easier to hunt in the afternoon.

Even though my answer was technically correct, Cheol-han-oh sighed regretfully and continued with the lecture.

‘I should try to focus.’

Of course, when I say "focus," I mean I’ll pretend to pay attention more earnestly.

‘It’s almost time.’

The moment I’d been waiting for was approaching.

Not much longer now.

At the end of the lecture, Cheol-han-oh left us with a final remark.

"The practical training period will begin soon. Don’t forget to prepare."

Hearing this, I nodded to myself.

It was the information I had been waiting for all week.

 

After finishing my daily routine and eating dinner, I usually spent some time chatting with my companions. It was one of the few times I could mentally unwind.

However, lately, I had cut back even on that, increasing my training hours significantly.

Part of the reason was that, two months in, my companions had become busier. But the main reason was that I felt the pressure to push myself harder.

‘Move your arm a bit more forward.’

Whoosh! Bang!

I adjusted my movements and released my inner energy, leaving a faint trace of qi in the air.

Too slow. I was just a bit late with the release.

‘...It’s impossible to go any faster. Should I add more feints?’

Even while focusing on mental training, I kept moving my body to reflect on past sparring matches.

‘If I rely solely on speed, I’ll get caught and stalled.’

I often replayed the fight I had against Two Dragons and Paejon in my head, thinking about the mistakes I made.

‘What went wrong?’

My speed was superior. My qi was overwhelmingly stronger.

But I couldn’t break through. Even when I managed to enter their range, I couldn’t land a single hit.

They were slower than me, but they moved as if they were faster. Was it a matter of perception?

I was acutely aware of my deficiencies, and I desperately sought ways to fill the gaps, but it wasn’t easy.

Even if I had lost to Paejon, the pinnacle of the martial world, defeat was defeat.

Was I upset about losing? Not really.

I had already tasted defeat countless times, and I knew that keeping pace with a genius was impossible for someone like me.

That’s why I had to keep searching for answers.

‘If only I were a bit sharper.’

If I could think more quickly, I could make better use of my body and handle upcoming events more efficiently.

What if I had even half the mental agility of Cheon Yuryang? I was frustrated, and such idle thoughts crossed my mind.

Fwoosh.

I retracted the flames that had been surrounding my body and directed the heat back into my dantian, taking a deep breath.

The plain around me was already filled with the heat I had released.

“How does it look?”

After gathering all the energy, I asked the person who had been watching.

“…Huh?”

A blank response. Well, I had expected that.

After all, the observer was none other than Namgung Bi-ah.

“How did it look?”

“…It was… cool…?”

That wasn’t what I was asking, but her answer almost made me feel good for a moment.

The reason I was training with Namgung Bi-ah today was that she was the only one who wasn’t busy.

Usually, she would train for about half the time I did before disappearing, but today, I asked her to stay.

Dang So-yeol hadn’t been around lately.

Wi Seol-ah had been visiting regularly, but today she left, looking disappointed as she had another appointment.

Moyong Hi-ah was always busy.

And Gu Yeon-seo was off doing something else with her peers, so I dragged Namgung Bi-ah along, seeing she had nothing to do.

“Do you see anything lacking?”

I didn’t expect much from asking Namgung Bi-ah for feedback, but she was still a martial artist who had surpassed a significant threshold. She was a genius who would certainly become a master someday, so I thought she might have some insight.

She tilted her head, looking at me, and then responded.

“You’re too fast…”

“Then maybe I should slow down…”

“You look impatient.”

Impatient?

I considered whether I had misunderstood her observation, but her next words confirmed it.

“Impatient?”

“Yeah… You look rushed.”

I opened and closed my fists, repeating her words. Impatient, huh?

I knew I’d been feeling pressured, but had it seeped into my movements as well?

‘I’ll have to fix that.’

I nodded. If Namgung Bi-ah could see it, then it was something dangerous.

She stared at me for a moment before speaking again.

“…Wanna spar?”

Her sudden question made me flinch.

“Use proper sentences, I told you.”

I sighed and gently reprimanded her.

Namgung Bi-ah clapped her hands together, looking like she’d just remembered.

I nearly had a heart attack.

“Do you want to spar?”

As I expected, she was asking about sparring.

But her question made me think.

I realized that I had never sparred with Namgung Bi-ah before.

Despite her constant requests for a match after we met in this life, I had always turned her down.

At some point, she had stopped asking altogether.

“Now that I think about it, you haven’t asked to spar in a long time.”

I thought she had simply given up after being rejected so many times, but her asking now made me reconsider.

When I brought it up, Namgung Bi-ah pushed her hair behind her ear and spoke.

“…Because… it’s scary…”

Scary?

“You’re scared of sparring with me?”

“No…”

Her blue eyes looked straight at me.

“You’re scared… of sparring with me.”

“….”

Her words made me pause for a moment, as if my breath had caught in my throat.

“Scared? Me?”

“Yeah.”

At first, I didn’t understand what she meant, but deep down, I already knew.

I didn’t want to fight Namgung Bi-ah, even if it was just sparring.

“So… I stopped asking. It’s fine.”

“You’re asking now, though.”

“I thought it might make you feel better.”

“No, it’d probably make me really uncomfortable.”

“Then that’s fine.”

Namgung Bi-ah returned to her usual expression as if she had no regrets.

She had always been quick to move on.

“Will you spar… one day?”

“…You make it sound like sparring is some huge deal.”

“Isn’t it?”

I didn’t know if I would place such grand importance on something like a sparring match after all the bloodshed had ended, after everything settled down.

When peace finally arrived.

“Seol-ah too?”

“…!”

Namgung Bi-ah’s words widened my eyes. Out of nowhere, she mentioned Wi Seol-ah.

What was she implying?

‘Does she know something?’

Was Namgung Bi-ah aware of what Wi Seol-ah had said to me?

“What do you—”

“…Just kidding…”

I stammered, but Namgung Bi-ah chuckled softly as she spoke.

Then, she beckoned me over with a casual wave of her hand.

Like she was calling for a dog.

Grumbling to myself, I walked over.

“What is it…?”

Rustle.

As I got closer, Namgung Bi-ah gently stroked my hair with her signature languid touch.

“…It’s okay.”

“…What are you doing?”

Confused by her sudden gesture, I asked.

Namgung Bi-ah smiled faintly and replied.

“When you… did this for me… it made me feel better.”

“So?”

“So… I’m doing it for you…”

She was trying to make me feel better.

It wasn’t unpleasant.

Strangely enough, I felt a little better, which was hard to explain.

As Namgung Bi-ah earnestly patted my head, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

It seemed like I’d had enough training for today.

 

That night, under a full moon, a figure stood on the wall surrounding the academy.

The figure, whose gender was indiscernible, silently watched over the grounds of Shinryongwan, carefully avoiding the aura of Cheonghaeilgeom.

They stood motionless, observing.

Their eyes were fixed solely on one person.

Flap.

A bird flew to their side, landing on their shoulder. The figure casually took the letter tied to the bird’s leg and unfolded it.

• Four days from now. Proceed.

 

“…”

The message indicated that the target date was approaching.

After reading it, the figure crumpled the letter.

At that moment, the bird on their shoulder dispersed into mist.

The figure soon followed suit, vanishing into the air as if they had never been there.

Their name was Amwang—the King of Shadows.

The ruler of the night.