Ilma examined my body.

"...What on earth... Myo Yerin!"

"You told me to control access!"

"Leave the Sama family warriors in charge and get in here! What kind of treatment did you even administer?!"

"I did a good job, alright?! I swear by the heavens, I have nothing to be ashamed of!"

Dragged in, Myo Yerin sat in front of me. She and Ilma whispered back and forth.

"I see... So that’s how it is... But why did you make this choice?"

"He was on the verge of dying. Cutting off his limbs would’ve been easier and cleaner. But then, I’d be the one responsible for breaking the Sect Leader’s toy."

"Not entirely wrong. But why did you leave that like that?"

"You should’ve seen this brat fight. Even the Soul-Severing Sword admitted, ‘I couldn’t cut him.’ I swear, I’m innocent. I pieced together scraps that were about to fall apart and barely made him look human again."

"...Tsk."

"Ilma? That sound was oddly bright for just a tongue click—"

"Shut your mouth."

"Ow! Don’t hit me!"

Ilma sighed heavily.

"Sloppily patched together... It’s just barely holding. You’re still quick-witted as ever. Was it your idea to sustain yourself with cold energy?"

"Of course it was. Who else could’ve done it? So... you know, right?"

"...You’re still such a money-grubbing rat. I’ll take some of my private funds and compensate you."

"I won’t refuse! I was aiming for that from the start!"

"Get out now."

"Don’t kick me! I’ll leave on my own!"

When the room fell silent again, Ilma gently touched my back.

"You reckless brat."

"Yes?"

"You don’t even realize how close you were. One more step, and you would’ve never held a sword again."

"......."

"Why did you eat Bingbaekseol’s frost pill?"

Why did I...

In that moment, all I could do was endure. But as I fought with my sword, greed surfaced.

I wanted to win. As a martial artist. For any swordsman, holding a blade means wanting to defeat the opponent before them.

I conveyed that directly to Ilma. She stared at me for a long moment, then sighed.

"...What am I going to do with you?"

"Still, I survived, Ilma."

"If the Sahyeoldae hadn’t arrived in time, you’d be dead."

"...That’s not certain, is it?"

"No. You would’ve died. Even if you had won, you would’ve perished from self-destruction, unable to sustain yourself."

Ilma’s gaze was cold. Hesitantly, I said:

"...But still... I would’ve been somewhat satisfied."

"Why?"

"You said before—when fighting an unbeatable opponent, I should cling to them persistently, no matter what."

I remembered the Soul-Severing Sword. A seemingly insurmountable opponent.

But in the end, I had seen his face distort. He’d been forced to reveal his final move against someone as lowly as me.

I had left a mark.

A bite mark.

"I bought time, and I held onto my sword to the very end. I even tore the Soul-Severing Sword’s clothes, Ilma."

"......"

"I left a mark on an opponent I couldn’t defeat. Just as you taught me, Ilma."

The mask Ilma wore shifted slightly. I heard the sound of her starting to speak, only to stop herself.

"...Haa."

She let out a deep, helpless sigh.

I fiddled nervously with my fingers.

"...I’m sorry."

"Don’t give me an apology you don’t even mean."

Ilma growled.

"...Your body is in a completely broken state. It’s held together around your heart, stitched up with cold energy. The Nine Heavens Blood Demon Technique is keeping that fragile balance intact."

"Then, what does that mean...?"

"If not for Cheongeop, you’d already be dead. The reason you’re still alive is because of that."

Ilma removed her hands from my body.

"Have you noticed Cheongeop acting strange lately?"

I thought back. Now that she mentioned it, while wielding my sword, I’d felt Cheongeop occasionally "twitch."

"I have."

"Once Cheongeop takes root, it slowly restructures the body to match its ideal form. It happens in phases. The first phase is the external body, and the second is the dantian. It reinforces the vessel that holds it. A strengthened dantian can hold any kind of energy."

"Are you saying...?"

"Containment. That’s the second form of Cheongeop. It’s the process before it merges with its master. Has the pain lessened? If so, you’ve begun approaching the second phase. Along with it, you’re now able to hold the lump of energy that saved your life."

I examined my body. In my dantian, there it was—the stubborn, chilling cold refusing to emerge. I could feel the ice clashing against Cheongeop, whispering in the depths.

"Is ‘holding it’ all there is?"

"Yes. ‘Holding it’ is all you can do. The energy inside you is entirely different. You can’t control it with the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Technique. This energy requires mastery of Bingbaekseol’s techniques. It’s pure yin energy. And you’re not even a woman. You’ve essentially thrown off your body’s balance. It’s like tossing a boulder into a calm lake—of course it overflows."

"......."

"You’re such a fool. I’ve never seen anyone as reckless as you."

Ilma heaped sigh upon sigh, then grabbed my face. She tugged at my cheeks repeatedly.

"Do you break out in hives if you don’t cause trouble?"

"...Ilma. Is there a way to fix this?"

"Of course. That’s why I’m here. Now lie down."

Ilma injected her internal energy into me. She paused and moved forward in bursts, as if unblocking frozen meridians. She gripped my heart gently and checked the state of my organs.

"Hmm... Myo Yerin!"

"What now?!"

"I need paper. Bring it."

"Ugh, seriously! I’m busy too!"

"Are you resisting?"

"Of course not, Daejoo. Hehe. I was just kidding."

For three days, without eating or resting, Ilma examined my body.

The paper piled up, filled with diagrams and notes—enough to form an entire book.

"With this... I think I can patch it together."

Suddenly, unbearable pain surged through me. It felt like my torn body was being forcibly stitched back together.

My whole body shook. At the same time, the foreign sensation I’d been feeling seeped out of me.

Sweat poured in black droplets, as if every impurity trapped between my bones had been flushed out.

The pain was excruciating. I wanted to scream but gritted my teeth, fearing it might get worse if I let it out.

Ilma clicked her tongue as she wiped her hands.

"You endured that silently? You’re really something. It must’ve felt like thousands of needles were stabbing and twisting through you."

"Is... it over?"

"I’ve stitched you back together. It’s like surviving death ten times over. But..."

Ilma smirked.

"It wasn’t all for nothing. Cheongeop consumed some of the chilling energy sustaining you. You’ve gained something from it. Cycle the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Technique."

I did as she said. As I followed the technique, a strange harmony emerged within me, my blood-red energy flowing perfectly.

"...This..."

"You’re no longer a novice."

The internal energy within me had grown noticeably stronger. More than that—

The once-awkward flow of the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Technique was now perfectly smooth.

As I extended my hand, the blood energy followed effortlessly.

It was the pinnacle of mastery.

I had reached it.

"...Ha."

I’d worried I would lose my sword, yet here I was—stronger.

I couldn’t contain the joy swelling in my chest. Ilma gestured with her chin.

"How far have you learned the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Technique?"

"Up to the second form, Ilma."

"Move on to the third form—Paryeok Mado. Once you master it, you’ll gain another sword you can wield. And... there’s something else you need to learn."

"Yes?"

Ilma waved Bingbaekseol’s secret manual.

"I’ll tailor this to suit you. It’ll take time, but it’s unavoidable. If you’ve absorbed it, you might as well use it."

"...Ilma."

"Don’t look at me with those creepy eyes! I’m only following orders from the Sect Leader! If you’re going to spout nonsense, shut up."

I’d gained something else. I hesitated before asking:

"At least... a formal bow of gratitude—"

"Stop that. Do you think I’d take someone like you as a disciple?"

"......."

"Again with that face!"

Ilma, scolding me, sighed deeply. She pinched my nose.

"...You held out against the Soul-Severing Sword?"

"I didn’t defeat him, but..."

"Enduring is as good as defeating. For someone at your level, he was an insurmountable opponent. You stood after being struck by a falling boulder..."

Ilma’s voice softened slightly.

"Well. You did well. It wasn’t completely unbearable to watch."

"......!"

She praised me.

I tried to respond with a smile, but something fell.

A clear liquid traced down my face. Blinking, I checked my hands and realized it was a tear.

"W-wait. Are you crying?! Why are you crying?!"

"...Uh... Uh..."

I didn’t know either.

Why was I crying?

I wiped my face, but the tears kept flowing. Embarrassed, I buried my face in my hands.

"I-I’m sorry..."

"You crazy brat! Is your tear duct broken?! Stop it! What kind of man cries over a few words...!"

Flustered, Ilma stood up, opening the door as if to leave.

But I didn’t hear her go. Her footsteps returned, stopping in front of me.

Hesitant.

Then, I felt her hand rest on my head.

Once.

A brief, gentle pat.

Ilma cleared her throat awkwardly.

"...You’re such an idiot."

The words sounded strangely kind. I stayed quiet, listening.

If I had a teacher...

I wondered if it would feel like this.

...

Late at night, I stood in the garden of the Sama family estate, lightly checking my body.

For the first time in a while, Cheongeop howled properly. There was still pain, but my clenched hand moved as it should.

I lightly bounced on the spot. My body felt light. The sword I drew slipped out of its sheath without the slightest resistance.

The countless arcs I swung traced lines through the air. The Nine Heavens Blood Demon Sword tore through the night wind.

A body that stood firm, without wavering. No matter how much I moved, I felt like I would never tire.

Then, how about Cheongeop's abilities?

I grasped the blade and lightly cut across my palm. With excruciating pain, the wound healed in an instant.

...My recovery seemed strangely faster.

It felt as though Cheongeop had grown alongside me.

I was grateful for what I had been given. Grateful that I could hold a sword once more after brushing past death.

Little by little, I was still advancing.

Someday, surely...

I will reach your back, Cheonma.

Until then, I will not stop. I will no longer doubt.

Until the path ends, I will walk to stand beside you...

"Kid."

A voice pierced the silence, and I turned my head.

The gaze staring at me was half-hidden in shadows. But I could clearly see the faintly upturned corners of her mouth.

"What are you doing so late at night?"

It was Myo Yerin of the Sahyeoldae.

As I glanced at her, the shadow stretching behind her seemed endless, undulating like an abyss. Its depth and power were immeasurable.

The Sahyeoldae were said to be the greatest martial masters in the sect. If that were true, where did she stand among them?

I lightly gripped the hilt of my sword. Myo Yerin smirked.

"Think you can manage?"

"......."

I couldn’t see it.

What lay beyond.

It was different from Nohacheon and his Soul-Severing Sword, whom I had glimpsed faintly. This felt completely shrouded in darkness.

The closest comparison would be Ilma. Though, of course, she was likely not at that level.

Even so, it was clear she was within reach of that same power.

If I drew my sword...

—I would surely die.

It was a mountain I could not yet climb.

"...I don’t think so."

"At least you’re not blind."

I bowed deeply to Myo Yerin.

"Thank you for saving my life."

"Yes, you should be grateful. But don’t thank me too much. Why? I’m not particularly fond of verbal gratitude. I prefer something more tangible."

"...Pardon?"

"The price of your life. What I received from Samaak isn’t enough—I need something from you two as well. Isipguho... and you, Samsipho. Your lives may mean little to me, but to you, they’re priceless, aren’t they? Worth paying any price to keep."

Myo Yerin waved her hand playfully.

I asked her. I didn’t intend to avoid repayment; the question was simply what form it would take.

"How do I repay you? I don’t have much money..."

"Money. That’s nice. But you don’t look like you have any, so I didn’t bother thinking about it. Instead, will you swear something? Lend me your life just once—"

Crack!

A sinister sound echoed from the back of Myo Yerin’s head. I flinched without meaning to.

Face-planting into the ground, Myo Yerin slowly got up.

"...Daejoo? What was that for?"

"If you’ve taken money from me and Samaak, you should stop there."

"But it’s not wrong! To them, I’m their savior—"

"I said stop."

"......"

Ilma had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, though I had no idea when she’d arrived. Myo Yerin flailed as she was dragged away.

"Ah, come on! You’re playing favorites too much!"

"What favoritism?"

"You never said a word when I messed with the others! Why are you stepping in now? Is he really that special?!"

"He’s the Sect Leader’s toy."

"I don’t think that’s the only reason!"

I felt Ilma’s gaze flicker briefly toward me.

"Of course that’s the reason. Nothing else."

"Oooh! Your voice goes up when you lie! I can hear—"

Crunch.

"Kyagh?!"

A strange sound accompanied Myo Yerin’s neck twisting. Before disappearing, Ilma turned to look at me one last time.

"Samsipho."

The formal use of my title.

I responded.

"Yes, Ilma."

"Prepare to leave in ten days. A carrier pigeon arrived. Once you return to the Blood Demon Unit, you’ll be summoned by him soon."

"......!"

There was only one person Ilma would refer to as "him."

Cheonma Cheon Soso.

I wandered the garden for a while after they left.

Sleep would not come.