Winter.
"It's snowing."
Master's footsteps were light.
"It has already been two days since our match began."
She stepped lightly, so lightly on the snowfield as if she would slip on the ice.
A world covered in white.
The black hem of Master's clothes flowed like a brush on white paper.
-How long are you going to run away?
There was another brush following after her.
Its strokes were tougher, stronger, and more intense than Master's. It was a brush dipped heavily in ink and pressed hard on the paper.
-If it's a movement skill, I won't lose to you.
With heavy steps, Bae Hu-ryeong broke the ice under his feet, rushing forward where his gaze hit like a bulldozer.
"I am confident that I can keep running forever."
-But there will still be an end to it.
"Don't you know? This world is an endless field of snow. There may be no place to go, but there is an infinite number of places to run."
-I won't leave you be.
Bae Hu-ryeong kicked the snow with a chwak, dashing forward.
-If you were in your prime, maybe you could run away forever. But this match is between us as we are now. If we're counting the rest of your life, you don't even have two hours left. The sand in your glass is falling quickly. Are you still going to run away?
"Oho. How unfair."
-Life is unfair.
Bae Hu-ryeong swung his sword.
"You have a point."
Master turned her head and easily avoided the attack.
"I don't have much time left to live. I can't continue running away."
-At some point, we have to end the match.
"There's no reason that that point shouldn't be now."
-Now you're talking my language.
"If so." Master grabbed the hilt of her sword. "I shall show you my maximum power."
Infernal Heavens Demonic Art.
First form.
Sword of Starvation.
"—Starvation, like parents exchanging their own child with their neighbors' to eat them."
The sword parted the winter wind with a scream.
"Have you heard the tale of an adult who baked the neighbor's child into jerky and buried them in the snow? Have you heard the rumors in the village? Did you hear that if you dig at the snow on the side of the village road, your shovel will discover young flesh at each plow?"
-How sad.
Shiiing.
Bae Hu-ryeong blocked Master's blade with his sword.
-It must have been a famine year.
"That's right. A famine is like an epidemic that always returns."
-But that's just chance.
Bae Hu-ryeong was hit by the cold gust, and swung his sword again.
-Good harvests happen by chance, as do famines. It's nothing more than coincidence. Sect leader, if you mourn so much over accidental tragedies, you should celebrate accidental blessings just as much.
"...."
-The depth of one's sadness should be equal to the height of one's happiness.
Shiiing.
The two swords clashed.
A red plum flower fell.
-So, I shall sing of the happy autumn harvest.
Snowflakes descended like falling leaves.
-There are days when I looked at the horizon as I walked down the street. It was a day when the golden sea of rice stalks stretched to the horizon. Young children played hide and seek among the rice paddies as tall as them. Laughter thundered and weaved in and out of the rows of rice plants.
Autumn.
The wind blew.
The mountains and fields turned red with autumn leaves, and the horizon turned yellow with rice stalks.
-You talk of children's flesh buried in the snow? Then I'll talk of the children's laughter as they play under the bountiful produce.
It was a world full of crimson maple leaves fluttering to the ground.
Bae Hu-ryeong swung the sword.
-Either way, the days are both results of chance. If I have to put something into my heart as I swing my sword, I will think of the sound of laughter. When I think back on life before I die, I will think of the children playing hide and seek. It's an obvious choice.
"Really." Master sliced through the leaves. "What a blessing!"
Infernal Heavens Demonic Art.
Second form.
Sword of Thirst.
"Both cases are by chance, you say. Of course it is. But happiness does not kill a person. The suffering from starvation, the pain of thirst, can kill! And if you die, you're dead forever. It's the end."
The sun began to set.
"I shall sing of the people who died, unable to drink a sip of water!"
Summer.
A heat wave covered the world.
All the vegetation on the mountain dried up.
Weeds turned yellow. Fruits shriveled up, the beetles crawled slowly, and hundreds, thousands, ten thousands of fish corpses were scattered along the side of the river. Flop. The fish's round eyeballs were desiccated.
-Ah.
Master's sword became sticky.
Bae Hu-ryeong parried the sword, but Master did not back down. Rather, she clung to him even closer. It was close combat. They were so close to each other that they could feel the opponent's breath. Chaang! Shing! Sword quickly countered sword, so fast to make one's eyes dizzy.
-If you wash and swim in the summer, it's really cool.
Bae Hu-ryeong parried Master's quick sword.
-You're teaching Gongja wrong.
"…What?"
-Sorry. My words were a little harsh. Rather than teaching him wrong, you're teaching him too early.
Bae Hu-ryeong's sword flowed like water.
-It's good to talk about the pain of the world. It's also good to look at other people's suffering. But that isn't something to be done forever.
"Why do you say that?"
-It's just that it gets tiring.
Shiing!
Red lily flowers bloomed.
-This Gongja kid still hasn't tasted the wonders of the world.
Suddenly, his fighting style changed.
-He has to taste its delicacies. It's only when he tastes it he can further understand the sorrow of those who would never be able to feel the same. He needs to swim in the summer. He needs to swim in it so that he can feel the pain of those desiccated and weak. A human heart is like a candle. So long as it keeps burning, it will burn out one day.
-Cult master, did you know? This kid still has never fallen in love! He's never been in a relationship!
His attacks poured down like a waterfall.
-But he already acts like he's carrying all the pain and sadness in the world. What an act! Ha. He shouldn't even dream of it. Even if your cult teaches kids young, he's way too young for this!
It showered like rain.
-I'm going to teach this kid how to be happy.
The rain poured.
-I'll teach him how to laugh without a single lie. I'll teach him how to put his arm around someone's shoulders. He should be able to learn how to be happy with someone. Only then can he learn endless sadness!
"You…."
The rain poured over the dry earth. The river became fuller with the rainwater. As the river's level rose, it swallowed the corpses of the fish on the banks. Violet morning glories opened up to drink in the raindrops.
The sound of frogs croaking.
"You plan to be my disciple's master?!"
Infernal Heavens Demonic Art.
Third form.
Sword of the Drowned.
-That's right!
"How dare you!"
It was like a ceaseless stream of rain.
The sword struck again and again.
"Who do you think you are to covet my direct disciple?"
Midsummer.
The monsoons caused many floods.
Countless rose petals floated down the river.
-Ha! Is this a joke? I'd planned to be his master first!
The reservoir collapsed, and the village was locked in the water. The water rose up to the feet of the mountains. On top of the rising water, Master and Bae Hu-ryeong kicked at each other. Splish. Splash! Waves erupted from where the two people stepped.
-I was the one who taught this guy how to take the heads of orcs! I was also the one to teach him how to utilize Aura! I raised this brat with no talent in the martial arts until he could use it somewhat! And now, you're interfering and being a bad influence!
"You're calling me a bad influence?!"
-Yeah! The Demonic Cult is a bad influence, duh!
The two glided around on the surface of the water.
One was chased.
The waves bloomed at his feet with a splash.
The other was chasing.
Gently, her toes traipsed on the rose petals.
The two cast shadows over the waves and petals.
-Swinging a sword should be fun!
The smell of water on a rainy day.
The aroma of the flowers was thick.
-Gongja is not ready for the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art! It's a sword that wields pain, understands pain! What's that supposed to be? It's too much of a demonic art! But he still needs to smell the flowers and feel joy under a summer shower!
"Gongja is! My disciple! He was born to be the next master of this sect!"
-It's because you think so that I'm calling you a bad influence! You second-rate master!
Hundreds and millions of roses.
Before long, the flooded river was no longer visible. There was no sign of the water. The rose petals had covered its entire surface.
The world blazed red, becoming a flower garden.
"■■■■, ■■■. ■■■■."
-■■■, ■■, ■■■■. ■■■!
Spring.
Flowers flowed.
Red peonies bloomed and flew into the air.
"——Governing Red Chaos Sword's sixth form, Sword of Balanced Chaos, to slice your neck."
Shiing!
Two petals gave way to her blade.
-I take two steps back with the Center Snow Step.
I could see it.
"…I'll send you flying with the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art's seventh form, Sword of Blunt Impact."
I could hear it.
-I'll use the Ocean Blossom Strike Style's fourth form, Falling Harvest Moon, to confront you.
I could see the two people's swords.
I could see the pressed peonies underneath the two people's feet.
The red peonies' aroma burst as they were stepped on.
"...."
I could see it at last.
Master was… The Demonic Cult's headmaster, the Heavenly Demon, was losing.
"...I will resist you with the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art's eighth form, Sword of Incineration."
Under the sky of peonies, Master's blood spilled.
It was bloody.
The difference between Master and Bae Hu-ryeong's skill was clear. No matter how long she tried to perpetuate the battle, it was impossible for Master to outrun Bae Hu-ryeong's pursuit. And from attempting the impossible, Master's arms, legs, and shoulders bled red.
-Mm.
Bae Hu-ryeong got into a pose.
-I'll cut you off with the Old Remains Flower Sword's first technique, Sword of the Moonlit Night.
The sound of Master's breathing became a little thin.
Her chi was running out.
It would be overambitious for her to try for mutual death by using her true chi.
"I...."
Master opened her mouth.
"I originally couldn't complete the final form of the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art. This was for one reason. I had been set on using the death from my youth, death by freezing. Freezing to death after being left behind in a snowfield by my mother. That was what I considered to be the penultimate death."
Master raised up her sword high.
"But."
The tip of her sword pointed to the sky like an hour hand at noon.
"Paradoxically, I was able to complete the ninth form of the Infernal Heavens Demonic Art after the world had been destroyed."
"...."
"Heaven and earth, it was my ego."
"Whether I looked up at the sky or walked beneath it, I was alone. Baraya. Baraya. Agabaraya. The world is winter, and a lone candle burns. If I sing, it is the song of the whole world, and if I die, it is the death of everything. It's white. It's turning white, and whiter still."
Her sword.
It cut the heavens.
"My infernal heaven is the testament of the snowfield."
Infernal Heavens Demonic Art.
Ninth form.
Sword of Freezing.
"——."
The winter cut through the spring.
The red petalled sky split apart. And in its cracks, a white winter raged. It raged and descended. Petals turned to snow, and the hundreds of millions of peonies became hundreds of millions of snowflakes, freezing the world.
It was a lonely sword.
The attack sang of the Heavenly Demon's lonely death.
-Of course.
As the winter torrent struck him, Bae Hu-ryeong calmly looked up.
-A lonely death. Is this the death the leader of the Demonic Cult chose? Fine. I'll accept it. It's the perfect attack for the last warrior of a fallen world.
A lonesome smile hung on Bae Hu-ryeong's mouth.
-But when it comes to solitude, I know it better than you.
Bae Hu-ryeong gripped the hilt of his sword.
-How long did you last by yourself in this world? Three years? Two? No. You haven't lasted a single day. After all, that fellow called the Murim Lord was by your side. When the Murim Lord dies, you lose your mind.
The tip of his sword moved.
-I'm sorry, but.
Then.
-I've endured 130 years by myself.
Martial arts.
Void Form.
First sword.
.
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.
The peony flowers were,
.
.
.
.
.
.
Winter, spring, summer, autumn,
Autumn, winter, spring, summer,
Summer, autumn, winter, spring,
Spring, summer, autumn, winter,
Plum blossoms and peonies and roses and lilies,
Lilies and plums and peonies and roses,
The petal, to petals, petal, because they were petals,
Red, was red, became red, red,
Winter was,
Because it became red,
Again the winter,
The winter,
Her breath,
.
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.
Because it turned heavy,
.
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.
.
"——."
I regained my breath.
"—-Aah!!"
I couldn't see.
I couldn't hear.
I couldn't understand the last attack at all.
"Haaa, huff, euahh…! Haa, aa…."
However.
There was something more important than understanding the sword right now.
"Mas…ter."
"...."
"Master, are you alright…? How is your body?"
Master stared wordlessly at the winter sky. Her eyes weren't focused. Thump. My heart leaped. I fumbled to hold Master's hand. Fumbling over and over again, until I could find her pulse.
It was beating.
She was alive.
She was still alive.
"Master."
"...."
Master slowly opened her lips.
"I see," Master said.
"So it was like that."
Saying so, Master looked into my eyes.
"Disciple."
Her dark pupils.
"My disciple. You… From the beginning, you were only thinking about how to help me."
"Saying that you came here from the outside world out of admiration for me… That was a lie. It was a bright red lie. Why didn't I see it before? My disciple isn't one to cross the world infatuated by a reputation..."
Her voice.
Master's voice kept becoming smaller.
"Thank you."
"...."
"Disciple. Were you happy that you met me?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
"Will you remember me as the single petal of a flower?"
"Yes, Master."
"I'd like to know what type of flower it is."
"A peony..." I replied.
I held Master's body.
"I'll remember you as a red peony, Master."
"Oho."
Master smiled.
"How pretty."
She brushed her hand against my cheek.
"How pretty..."
Then.
With her other hand, Master beckoned to the heavens.
It was a weak and light gesture, like a baby bird flapping its wings.
"My disciple..."
Without a sound.
Without a single sound, the snowy mountain was cut.
The mountain, cut in two, remained there as if it had always been like that.
Master exhaled a white breath.
She must have been trying to dream a white dream.
"Master..."
I buried my face in Master's shoulder. In the stopped breath. In time. To the person who was born with the scent of snow.
"You've cut through winter. Master... You cut down the winter."
That day.
The winter of one world was cut.