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Chapter 35
Heaven-Shrouding 108 Sword.
A sword technique of peerless insight, created during nearly eighteen years of wandering the world in his past life. Through experiencing countless martial arts firsthand, Yang-hwi had forged a sword art uniquely his own.
It felt a little self-indulgent to name it himself—but objectively, it could be called a transcendent art, worthy of being classified as a divine-level martial canon.
And Yang-hwi had only one reason for thinking so:
The Heaven-Shrouding 108 Sword was a sword art that utilized Sword aura—the hallmark of supreme martial mastery—and required the control of will-infused qi.
Heaven-Shrouding Sword. A blade that shrouds the heavens.
This was the fundamental imagery passed down through the Baek family line since the days they were known as the Baek Clan. It formed the very foundation of all their martial arts.
In his past life, while developing a martial art for his family, Yang-hwi had constantly pondered and struggled with one question:
What must a sword possess to cover the sky?
After long years of contemplation, his conclusion was clear:
The clan’s sword must become a force capable of veiling the heavens.
To achieve that, it needed both immense weight and unshakeable stability.
And yet, it also needed blistering speed—so fast, it could no longer be perceived as a line, but rather as a plane of motion.
‘Like the wings of a hawk soaring through the blue sky.’
For Yang-hwi, the image that defined Heaven-Shrouding was the hawk.
Wings that slice the heavens faster than anything.
Talons that seize with an iron grip.
Speed and Weight.
Swift and unyielding.
A sword faster than lightning, heavier than a mountain, clashing with a blade as vast and all-encompassing as the sky itself.
KIIIIIIAAA!
A hawk crashed into the heavens and let out a shrill, piercing cry.
Heaven-Shrouding 108 Sword. Secret Technique: Hawk’s Cry That Covers the Sky.
The Heaven-Shrouding 108 Sword consists of six core forms, each with eight variations—fifty-four in total.
And yet, it bore the name “Hundred and Eight” for a reason:
Because it compressed all fifty-four techniques into half a second.
‘Faster. Even faster.’
Fifty-four techniques. Twice in a single strike.
One swing, one blade—a cascade of 108 sword techniques unleashed at once.
Then came a high-pitched vibration—like the screech of a hawk—the very sound of the sword resonating.
KIIIIIIAAA!
Sound is the transfer of vibration. The faster the vibration, the higher the pitch.
To execute fifty-four forms twice in a single breath and hear that hawk-like cry from the sword itself—
That was the proof Yang-hwi had fully mastered the Heaven-Shrouding 108 Sword.
In this sword art, after mastering the Phoenix Wing and the Hundred Wings stages, the ultimate realm awaited.
Yang-hwi called this realm:
Hawk’s Cry Realm.
“Alright, let’s end this quickly. I’ll go all out from the start.”
As the hawk’s piercing screech echoed again and again, Namgung Cheon-yeong also went all out, unleashing his own imagery and will-infused qi.
Suddenly, an illusion unfolded—a boundless sky of pure, deep blue without a single cloud.
In that moment—
KIAAA, KIAAAA!
Hawk’s Cry That Covers the Sky. A massive white hawk’s wings stretched across the heavens.
A cry sharp enough to rip the very fabric of the world.
A cascade of 108 sword strikes within a single slash didn’t just cut through Namgung Cheon-yeong—
It shredded everything.
‘…It’s over.’
The scenery of his past life faded away, and the darkness of the cave returned to his view.
His young body was back. His internal energy was weak. He couldn’t even feel pain in his middle and upper energy centers.
Yang-hwi clicked his tongue with mild regret.
‘If I was going to experience my past life’s memory again, I should’ve enjoyed it a bit more before coming back.’
“…Ah. Where’s Seolha?”
He spotted her almost immediately. A soft sobbing sound was coming from nearby.
“Hhhk… Father… Please don’t… Please, please… hhk…!”
Jegal Seolha was collapsed on the ground, weeping and begging in a daze.
She was still trapped in the illusion brought on by the sound and the formation.
At first, Yang-hwi considered helping her. But instead, he sat down quietly.
‘She needs to finish this on her own.’
Just like a weed grows strong when battered by the storm, and the best swords are forged by the hardest hammering.
This pain—this trial—would become nourishment for Jegal Seolha.
And more than anything, Yang-hwi was certain of one thing:
‘You’ll get through this, Seolha.’
With the determination and strength she’d shown since entering the Five Trials of Proper Sound, he knew she had what it took to overcome the pain of her past.
* * *
A child should be a subject of love, care, and affection.
That’s how it should be.
They must never become the object of any other kind of emotion.
…Once, that was true for Jegal Seolha, too.
Once.
“Seolha, as a member of the Jegal Clan, the time has come for you to begin your training in the martial arts.”
“Yes, Father!”
Her bright, innocent voice rang out in reply. But even as five-year-old Jegal Seolha answered so cheerfully, a strange feeling crept over her.
It was like something inside her shriveled and stood on edge—like a sudden chill down her spine.
‘What is this…? I don’t know…’
“The clan’s Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique is an ascension-type martial art that cultivates the upper dantian. Be careful when using it.”
A voice whispered inside her heart.
‘Don’t!’
An intense wave of rejection surged up within her.
But as if possessed, Jegal Seolha began channeling the Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique.
And then—it all erupted.
Flames of energy surged out of control. The space around her filled with blazing, unnatural heat.
“Ghhhk—!”
“Kyaaah! No, Father!”
Shlick!
Her father drove a sword straight through his own palm.
Jegal Seolha screamed like she’d gone mad.
“Kyaaaaaah! Kyaaaaaaaah!”
Blood spilled endlessly. A red pool quickly formed on the floor.
“Seolha… I’m sorry.”
No… It’s me, Father. I’m the one who’s sorry.
For being born cursed… For making you suffer because of it…
For hurting you like this… I’m so, so sorry…
In the next moment—
She was back at the beginning.
“Seolha, as a member of the Jegal Clan, the time has come for you to begin your martial path.”
“Yes, Father!”
Unlike Yang-hwi, Jegal Seolha couldn’t perceive the artificial flow of qi that wove illusions into her mind through sound and rhythm.
And so her consciousness was caught in a loop.
Over and over again, she had to feel that first-time pain and crushing sense of loss.
Shlick!
A blade pierced her father’s palm.
His sleeve soaked through… then his entire body… drenched in blood.
“Kyaaaah…! Hhk… No! No!!”
And again—back to the start.
Shlick!
“Seolha, what kind of father feels desire for his daughter… You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s this wretched father who is at fault.”
“No! That’s not true! It’s not true, Father! Hhk… Hhhhkk…”
I… I’m someone who only brings pain to the people around me.
My father, my brother—
They felt things they never should have, all because of this curse I carry.
And they had to suffer, crushed by guilt and shame.
Even the elders of the clan, even the children my age…
I’m a curse that makes others feel disappointment and disgust just by existing.
Shlick!
I shouldn’t be around others.
Shlick!
I’m destined to live alone for the rest of my life. Because even my presence causes pain.
Shlick!
So… please…
Let me just disappear.
That was the moment Jegal Seolha’s heart made that wish.
Jeongal Seolha.
Whatever it is… don’t hide behind it.
And again—
“Seolha, as a member of the Jegal Clan, the time has come for you to begin your martial path. Starting today, you will train in the Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique.”
“…Father.”
She saw him every day, and yet—
Why does seeing Father make my heart ache so much?
“The clan’s Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique is an ascension-type martial art that cultivates the upper dantian. Be careful when using it.”
“Yes, Father!”
Jegal Seolha began channeling the Hyunwon Jeondan Divine Technique.
He told her to be careful… but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t focus.
It was because of the thoughts crowding her mind.
‘I won’t give up. I won’t run away.’
She wasn’t facing some insurmountable challenge.
No enemy stood before her.
So why… why did she feel this way?
The moment she sensed something was wrong, her upper dantian, provoked by the technique, spiraled out of control.
Explosive heat bloomed, wild and unnatural, swelling around her.
The Peach Blossom qi… That’s right. I have the Peach Blossom Constitution.
But the temperament of the Peach Blossom Qi wasn’t the kind that stirred desire through vulgar temptation.
Rather, like bees and butterflies drawn to blossoms, it captivated the hearts of those who perceived beauty—and intoxicated them.
That’s why those born with the Peach Blossom Constitution were always peerless in beauty, irresistible in their allure.
Over three cautious years, she had uncovered the truth about herself…
Wait—how do I know that?
It was strange. She was supposed to be a five-year-old child.
And yet, something about this moment felt so distant… like a memory from long ago.
No, that wasn’t important right now.
“Kyaaaaaah!”
A scream burst out from her lips—unintended but unstoppable.
Jegal Seolha clenched her heart with newfound resolve.
I can’t… I won’t let Father fall into shame and despair again.
If all those thoughts in her mind were true—
Then she couldn’t let herself fall apart.
Not now.
Shlick!
A blade pierced through a palm.
But this time, it wasn’t Jegal Seon’s hand—it was her own.
“S-Seolha!!”
Her father’s voice cracked in horror.
He stared at her in shock—and in his eyes, Jegal Seolha saw his true heart.
It wasn’t like before.
Before?
But this was the first time her Peach Blossom Qi had ever gone berserk… wasn’t it?
Whatever the case—
Unlike before, there was no trace of desire in her father’s heart.
Only love. Only concern for his daughter, soaked in blood.
Despite the agonizing pain burning in her hand, Jegal Seolha smiled.
“Seolha! What have you done?! Why would you do this?!”
Bathed in the warmth of her father’s love, Jegal Seolha gave him a gentle, tearful smile.
“I love you, Father.”
In that moment—
The illusion shattered.
* * *
It had already been roughly four hours. It was only a sense of time, but Yang-hwi figured it was close enough.
Jegal Seolha had been cycling between sobbing and passing out for two hours since Yang-hwi had woken up.
Hmph. Maybe it’s time I stepped in.
According to Eumhu, the Five Trials of Proper Sound didn’t have perfect safety mechanisms in place.
In the case of the Five Gates, the main side effect was likely the illusion repeating endlessly without end.
If things continued like this, it might leave lasting damage on Jegal Seolha’s mind.
But... if she overcomes it, she’ll gain a far more tempered mental strength.
Just a bit longer. Let’s wait… just a little more.
It was as Yang-hwi thought that—
“……”
It stopped. The endless crying.
A smile naturally crept onto Yang-hwi’s lips.
That’s it. I knew you could do it, Seolha.
Jegal Seolha’s face was calm now. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
And just like that, Yang-hwi kicked off the ground and sprinted toward her, shouting loudly—
“WAAH!”
“Kyaaah!”
Startled out of her skin, Jegal Seolha screamed, only to spot Yang-hwi and instantly scowl at him with a fierce glare.
“You—! Sahyung! What the hell was that?!”
“What? You weren’t snapping out of it, so I used the most effective method I had.”
Grinning shamelessly, Yang-hwi answered.
Jegal Seolha huffed in anger, practically shaking with frustration.
“If you weren’t my lifesaver, I’d have punched you on the spot…”
“Who said I’d take it quietly?”
“…Someday… I’m definitely going to land a hit…”
And that was when it happened.
CLANG!
A heavy iron door, unnoticed until now due to the darkness, creaked open—and bright light flooded into the cavern.
“…I think it’s over now.”
“Looks like it.”
Jegal Seolha looked deeply moved. Understandably so—she’d been trapped inside the Five Trials of Proper Sounds for nearly ten days.
“Let’s get out of here. I feel gross. First thing I’m doing is taking a proper cleansing bath.”
“I want something hot and soupy.”
Outside the door, rugged mountain terrain stretched endlessly.
“Sahyung, uh… which way is the Inn?”
“Follow me.”
Using the position of the sun in the sky, Yang-hwi gauged their direction and confidently led them down the mountain path.
After walking for about a sijin, a single building came into view near the base of the slope.
It was the Inn.
“Ah! We made it!”
Brightening immediately, Jegal Seolha broke into a sprint toward the inn, leaving Yang-hwi behind.
Without hesitation, she burst through the doors—
“Father!”
“S-Seolha?! How are you here already—no, wait, more importantly, you’re speaking?! You’re speaking, but the Peach Blossom Qi isn’t—?!”
“A lot’s happened! But Father—I love you!”
As Yang-hwi stood outside, listening to the laughter and chaos from inside the inn, a warm smile formed on his face.
This was it.
The end of a long and grueling initiation.
The moment Jegal Seolha emerged triumphant—
And claimed her place as Eumhu’s disciple.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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