Let’s recall war.

No other words are needed—it is simply enough to call it hell.

No matter where you walked, the traces of the dead were scattered everywhere. The clear waters of the valley had lost their color, tainted with blood.

The once-brilliant sky was stained crimson, and the towering walls of the fortress were cracked and shattered in disarray.

Those lingering in the streets all bore the same look—some were terror-stricken, while others seemed utterly drained, as if they had already surrendered everything.

There was no hope.

Their faces spoke that truth.

After all, that’s what war is.

There is no such thing as a beautiful fight, and among all the cruelties, war is the most brutal. The world was gradually rotting under the banner of bloody slaughter.

Such was my past life.

It had been only a few years since Cheonma appeared. A brief period, yet more than enough to turn the world into that state.

How many years remain until that world returns once more?

I knew that it wouldn’t be too long from now.

Back then, there was the Divine Sword. And with it, countless forces that supported it, making it possible to overcome the bloodshed.

I know that I cannot achieve the same.

However, if I truly intend to take Wi Seol-ah's place, it means that I must at least accumulate as much power and influence as she did.

Beyond her martial prowess, there were countless others who lent her their strength.

It is impossible for me to replicate the authority Wi Seol-ah held or her gentle ways of drawing people to her.

Not to mention my temper, but I have no experience handling people in such a manner. And it doesn’t suit me anyway; there’s no point in trying to mimic her methods.

I must find my own way.

"My own way…"

I have ideas. After all, I already know the easiest path.

That is…

"Demonification."

Just as I did to Namgung Cheonjun, I know I can corrupt others with my demonic energy. I also know that I can control them as if they were slaves, with that energy as their leash.

If I am to build my own force, this method suits me best.

I seek a new power I can rely on. And if I build it with those ensnared by my demonic energy, there could hardly be a more fitting approach.

"But, is that…"

Is it truly the right thing to do?

These thoughts flicker in my mind from time to time.

It’s not that I haven’t hesitated before, trying not to live as I did in my past life. If I end up choosing this path, despite all my efforts to live differently…

"How would I be any different from Cheonma?"

I claim to move against the Demonic Cult, but in taking such actions, would I not be establishing another Demonic Cult myself?

This idea fills my mind.

Yet still…

"...Is there any other way?"

Such concerns can only be pondered when there are alternatives to consider.

Even if it’s not the right thing, and it’s not what I wish to do, I am not in a position to choose otherwise.

That’s why, when I made my list, I drew a line from the very beginning.

Those who could be corrupted with demonic energy without consequence. Those whose lives as demonic beings, even in death, would be preferable.

This is the final excuse I allow myself.

"Even if it’s wrong, I’ll bear it."

Saying that I’ll take the place of the Divine Sword alone isn’t enough.

I understand that I am not the one fit to fill that role.

Therefore, I must use every means available to me.

Guilt? Regret? Hesitation?

As I said before, those are luxuries only available when there are other options.

In other words, I have no such luxury now.

There is no room for doubt.

If I have a plan, I must carry it out. Now is the time to strengthen myself as quickly as possible.

Crunch!

To push harder, I clenched my fist with more force.

Boom!
The cave wall crumbled the moment my fist connected.

Even with such small movements, pain surged through me.

But after so much agony, it only made my brow twitch slightly now. Had I become accustomed to pain?

The very thought of finding pleasure in this made me wonder if my mind had been steeped too deeply in training.

As for the difference from before—

"My movements have changed."

Though subtle, there was a shift in the way I extended my fist.

How to put it?

It felt cleaner, as if an uncomfortable restriction had lifted.

After a moment’s thought, a fitting word came to mind:

"Flexibility."

My movements had become more flexible.

With this new fluidity, it seemed I was now able to apply my strength more effectively.

"No, it’s more than just a feeling."

I was almost certain.

The Tu A Pa Cheon Gong training had indeed changed my body.

Was this what the Paejon meant by altering the framework of one’s physical form?

"It’s almost laughable."

Even after training to the brink of death, nothing had improved.

Only after learning one more technique did a path finally open up.

"...Perhaps calling it 'just' one technique is a bit unfair."

The mere act of breathing was a struggle. So enduring this alone was quite an ordeal.

However, if one could withstand the pain, no one could deny that this technique was peerless.

It was something anyone could understand after experiencing it.

I kept moving my body without rest.

Drenched in sweat, I’d been reducing sleep for days, and fatigue had built up considerably.

Even so, I moved without hesitation, as if I would not stop until I reached my limit.

I had been acting like this for several days. Focused so intensely, I had started to notice something strange recently.

My body was shaking.

Not moving—shaking.

Before I knew it, my body began to sway on its own, as if it had lost control.

Despite this lack of coordination, I did not bother to rein it in.

Some instinct told me that I should not attempt to hold on.

As I took a step forward, a wave of pain rippled through my body.

My knees, my back—nothing was intact.

From my dantian, Tu A Pa Cheon Gong continued to surge. Qi overflowed endlessly, uninterrupted for days.

My vision blurred.

Did I even need to focus my gaze? There was no need.

My movements flowed endlessly, even without my conscious will.

Pain began to dull.

Is this what they call a state of pure selflessness, submerged in exhaustion?

It felt almost ridiculous, knowing that this was a place I could never truly reach.

None of it mattered, really.

Not now.

"Just a little more."

I wanted to immerse myself in this sensation a bit longer. It was an odd discomfort.

If I tried to regain even a bit of my focus, I knew this subtle feeling would break.

It was a paradoxical sense I had to ignore.

Is this also a kind of enlightenment?

What would happen if I broke free from this state? I was a little curious.

At that moment—

Crack.

"Ah, damn it."

Had my recent thoughts disrupted it? Gradually, my senses sharpened.

The indistinct sensation was returning to its original clarity.

Should I try to regain it?

Just as I pondered this—

"That’s enough."

Someone appeared, holding my body still. My erratic movements ceased forcibly.

"...Hah…"

Suddenly, the strength that had sustained my body gave out.

I collapsed on the spot.

"Hah… Hah…"

I managed to stay upright by pressing my palms into the ground.

Was I really this exhausted?

Sweat dripped down my face, pooling on the ground. Only then did I notice my trembling hands.

I hadn’t realized it, but my body had already reached its limit.

As I staggered and caught my breath, someone spoke from behind.

It was Paejon.

"You kept going until sunrise, I see."

"What…?"

I opened my eyes wide at his words.

Had it been that long?

Paejon chuckled at my surprised expression.

"Seems you’ve lost track of time."

Just moments ago, he hadn’t been there.

When did he arrive, and how long had he been watching?

There was no trace of him in my memory.

Had that hazy state really lasted that long?

I looked at him in silence, and he grinned.

"Are you disappointed?"

"No, sir."

"Oh, really? Your face is dripping with regret."

Was it? I hadn’t thought so, but it must have shown.

"Don’t think of me as a hindrance. Had I not stopped you, there would’ve been trouble."

"I don’t see it that way."

I understood simply from the state of my body. Going any further would have been a mistake.

My body was at its absolute limit now.

Even if it was the state of selflessness, Paejon probably intervened to prevent me from causing harm to myself. Knowing this, I wasn’t particularly bothered by his interference.

However, Paejon seemed dissatisfied with my response, pursing his lips.

"That response isn’t any fun."

"What would you have me say…"

Just as I was about to protest, Paejon tossed something at me.

I caught it with weak hands. It was a gourd bottle, sloshing with something inside.

"Drink up. Tsk, tsk… A geezer fetching water for a kid, imagine that."

"Thank you."

Just when I needed it most, I gratefully took a long drink. For a moment, it felt as if I had been revived.

As I drank, Paejon asked,

"How was it? That moment you almost reached."

After swallowing a few more sips, I asked him, puzzled,

"What moment do you mean?"

"The one you just touched."

"…"

"That blurred sensation, something you didn’t want to leave, yet felt uneasy about, as if a single mistake would eject you from it."

"…Yes, I did feel that way."

"It’s the right path, so don’t be concerned."

I listened to his words with a strange feeling.

I’d thought of it as some kind of enlightenment, but hearing Paejon’s explanation made it feel like something more than a martial artist’s insight.

"I told you not to regret it because that’s a place you’ll inevitably reach again."

"A place I’ll inevitably reach?"

"Have you heard of the concept of Mu Ah Ji Kyung (無我之境)?"

"Yes."

A state of forgetting oneself, becoming one with the motion.

It was something martial artists sought, an elusive moment of enlightenment.

"What you experienced was a form of Mu Ah Ji Kyung."

Did this mean I’d just experienced enlightenment?

But in that case, Paejon’s words seemed out of place.

When I pondered this, he explained further.

"To be exact, it was a state of selflessness created by the Tu A Pa Cheon Gong."

"What?"

Hearing this, my eyes widened.

Was he saying the Tu A Pa Cheon Gong could induce a state of Mu Ah Ji Kyung?

"Does Tu A Pa Cheon Gong produce Mu Ah Ji Kyung?"

Seeing my puzzled expression, Paejon’s mouth curled slightly.

"I didn’t expect to explain this so soon, but you’ve reached it faster than I anticipated."

"…"

"My martial art was born from my own greed, to become the best. You must have heard that."

"Yes."

Paejon had created the Tu A Pa Cheon Gong purely to surpass the limits of his own martial arts, in pursuit of his ambition.

"In truth, I sought to surpass the limits of humanity."

"Limits… You say?"

"Indeed, that’s why I created this martial art."

The limits of humanity…

So what, did he want to become a god?