"Will he be alright?"
"..."
"No, Sahyung. I understand how you feel, but think about it rationally. Isn't Sasuk in a worse condition than an ordinary person? It wouldn't be surprising if he passed away tomorrow."
"..."
"How can someone who can't even hold a brush properly handle such a task?"
At that moment, Yoon Jong, who had been silent, turned to look at Jo Gul. Jo Gul flinched at Yoon Jong's heavy gaze and closed his mouth.
Yoon Jong bit his lip slightly before speaking.
"So, can you tell Sasuk to stop and rest? Even knowing how he feels?"
"I could say it, but he won't listen."
Yoon Jong let out a deep sigh at Jo Gul's grumbling. It seemed Jo Gul still hadn't fully realized the gravity of the situation—that Baek Cheon, as a warrior, was done.
Yoon Jong repeatedly clenched and unclenched his hand, holding a booklet. It seemed to reflect his unsettled mind, which eventually caught Jo Gul's attention.
"But, Sahyung."
"What?"
"What is that thing you've been holding since we left the office? You haven't even looked at it."
Yoon Jong glanced down at the booklet in his hand. It was an unnamed book.
"Sasuk gave it to me."
"What? Sasuk?"
"Yes."
Yoon Jong's eyes darkened as he reluctantly forced his lips to move.
"It's the Mount Hua registry."
"What?"
"And... the rules of Mount Hua and the duties of the great disciples are written inside."
Jo Gul narrowed his eyes, puzzled.
"How...?"
"He must have prepared it beforehand, anticipating this situation. He wrote down his thoughts and advice while serving as acting sect leader."
At that moment, Jo Gul's face flushed with anger, and his voice rose.
"What...! Why did he give that to you?"
"..."
"And why did you accept it without even understanding what it means?"
"Gul."
"Is he in his right mind? Did he lose all sense? He's handing that over, and you just take it without thinking?"
"Do you think I wanted to accept it, you bastard?"
Yoon Jong retorted harshly, but Jo Gul ignored him and stood up abruptly.
"Give it to me."
"...What are you going to do with it?"
"What do you think? I'll throw it in Sasuk's face!"
"..."
"How can he hand over the position of Mount Hua's acting sect leader so carelessly? He should be beaten for three days and nights."
"Sit down."
"Sahyung!"
"Sit down!"
Yoon Jong finally erupted in anger. Jo Gul clenched his teeth and reluctantly sat back down, crossing his arms tightly, still not convinced.
Yoon Jong let out a long sigh and spoke to him in a soothing tone.
"Gul."
"This was inevitable, wasn't it?"
"..."
"Everyone knew Sasuk would lose his martial arts! It's just that it happened sooner than expected."
This was the reason for Jo Gul's anger.
"But what is this? Why is everyone looking at Sasuk like that? Martial arts? Is that so important? Is Sasuk worthless if he can't wield a sword? I didn't respect Sasuk because he was stronger than me!"
"Keep your voice down. People outside can hear."
"Damn it, let them hear! Did I say anything wrong?"
Bang!
Jo Gul, enraged, slammed his fist on the nearby table. The teacups toppled over, spilling tea onto the floor.
Yoon Jong closed his eyes as he watched the tea trickle down the table.
The future that was supposed to come someday and the reality that had already arrived were different. No matter how much you prepare, it can't be the same.
"In any case, I can't accept it. Sasuk..."
"Gul, this is what Sasuk decided."
"Sahyung!"
"And... do you really think that's what's best for Sasuk? On the battlefield..."
"Damn it, do you think I'm an idiot? I'll carry him on my back if I have to!"
"And what about Sasuk's feelings?"
At that, Jo Gul finally fell silent.
"Yeah, you might feel better, but what about Sasuk? On a battlefield where every person counts, what would it mean to him to be protected because he can't use martial arts? Have you ever thought about that?"
Jo Gul couldn't say anything. He just kept clenching and unclenching his fists.
Yoon Jong rubbed his tired face. An indescribable weariness washed over him.
"This is just... preparation. You know as well as I do that Sasuk won't give up easily."
This was true. Even Baek Cheon had said the same thing when he handed over the book.
But both Yoon Jong and Jo Gul knew what was really hidden behind those words of "preparation."
- I think I'm a bit late. I should have done this earlier.
As Yoon Jong recalled the words Baek Cheon had added, he unconsciously clenched his fists tightly.
'But Sasuk... it's too soon for me.'
No matter how deeply he sighed, his heart kept sinking into an endless abyss.
* * *
Thud.
Baek Cheon stared blankly at the brush that had fallen to the floor. It had slipped from his hand through the loosened bandages.
He watched the brush for a while as the lamp flickered a few times before he slowly rose to his feet.
Throb!
A sharp pain, as if his entire body were being cut by a knife, surged through him. He staggered but barely managed to steady himself, gritting his teeth so hard they made a grinding noise to endure the pain.
Drip.
Sweat pooled under his chin and dripped onto the floor.
Throb! Throb!
He instinctively knew. This pain would never go away.
As Tang Gunak had said, his body was now like a cracked pot that had been hastily patched together. No matter how much he improved, unless the cracks were completely sealed, this pain would be with him for the rest of his life.
He extended his half-unwrapped hand with all his strength.
He reached out to grab it.
This simple motion, something he had never even consciously thought about, now felt more difficult than any complex sword technique to Baek Cheon.
His trembling fingertips finally touched the brush.
Tap.
But the brush, as if mocking him, rolled further away.
"..."
Baek Cheon stared blankly at the scene.
'It's okay not to have martial arts?'
He was half-serious. He had mentally prepared himself. He had repeatedly vowed not to become a useless person even if he lost all his martial arts.
But.
"Ha..."
111
He never imagined that he would end up like this, becoming a mere shell of a person, beyond just losing his martial arts skills.
Thud.
Baek Cheon collapsed to the ground as if his legs had given way beneath him. A crazed laugh slipped out from his lips.
What can he do now?
He had imagined a life where he could no longer wield a sword, but a life where he couldn't even hold a brush?
Could he endure a life where he needed someone's help just to breathe? Had he truly prepared himself for all of this?
Words he didn't want to utter escaped his mouth.
"A burden..."
He had prepared for death. He believed that in itself was noble. But perhaps what Baek Cheon had underestimated was not death but life. He naively believed that death was the greatest pain he could endure.
What can he do? What must he do?
Baek Cheon slowly crawled towards the brush. It felt like dozens of knives were stabbing his body simultaneously, but this physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in his mind. He stretched out his emaciated arm like a withered branch and finally grabbed the brush.
Ssshh.
But it was only for a moment; the brush slipped from his grasp and fell again.
Refusing to give up, he grabbed the brush once more. His movements were weaker than a newborn's, yet his face was drenched in sweat from the effort.
"...Stay..."
Even so, the brush wouldn't stay.
"Stay...!"
Hadn't he always believed that with effort, nothing was impossible? That as long as he didn't give up, he could overcome anything? Even if he failed, his will would carry on. He had believed that more firmly than anyone else.
But what was left here now?
Could effort overcome this? Was victory possible? More importantly, what kind of will could he leave behind from this insignificant struggle?
"Stay in my hand, damn it!"
Thud.
But neither the brush nor his hand obeyed him in the end.
Baek Cheon silently lowered his gaze. The bandages and the floor were already a mess, smeared with ink.
Suddenly, he found his situation absurdly comical.
"Heh..."
He had overcome rivers of blood on the battlefield, yet now, he was brought to tears by mere ink.
"Heuh..."
Baek Cheon's shoulders trembled violently. His emaciated arm, no longer able to support his body, collapsed, and he fell to the ground with a thud.
Lying there with his cheek pressed against the floor, he stared at the brush rolling around.
A sword that cannot be wielded.
A brush that cannot be used.
A person who can do nothing.
'Do I have any worth left?'
If a person's life was meant to leave something behind, then his life had already come to an end. Whether he had reached that point or not was unclear, but in any case, he had already conveyed what he could.
But if that was the case, then what was this body that remained here?
Was it nothing more than an empty shell with nothing left to convey? Should it be called a ghost that had missed its time to disappear? Could there truly be any worth left in it?
Knock, knock.
At that moment, someone knocked on the door. Baek Cheon's eyes instantly filled with fear.
He didn't want to be seen.
Baek Cheon had faced countless enemies and overcome his fears with courage, but now, he was terrified of showing this pitiful state to anyone.
"Don't... don't come in!"
He shouted desperately and quickly scanned the area around him.
The floor was a mess, and his appearance was in even worse condition. He couldn't even lift his body off the ground.
"Don't open the door! Go away! I don't know who you are, but now is not the time!"
It wasn't an order or a warning; it was more like a plea. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. It was too miserable, too pathetic.
"Please, just go away...!"
Creak.
But despite his desperate voice, the door opened, and someone slowly entered the room.
An oppressive silence filled the air.
One person stood while the other crawled on the floor. Seeing the stark contrast, Baek Cheon let out a bitter laugh without realizing it.
If it had been someone else, they might have at least shown him pity.
If it had been Chung Myung standing there, he might have even broken down in tears.
Of course, that would have been just as miserable, but it would have been better than this.
Reality was harsher than imagination.
Baek Cheon looked up at the cold, hardened face with a mocking smile. What made him even more despairing was the fact that the emotion in those eyes was not ridicule but genuine anger.
"...Dong Ryong-ah."
"You...!"
Baek Cheon bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
"You..."
"Don't come near me!"
He shouted at the person approaching him to help him up.
"Don't touch me! Damn it, don't touch me!"
"Dong Ryong-ah!"
"I told you to get lost, Jin Geumryong! Don't touch my body! Don't...!"
His voice, filled with rage, gradually faded. He had no more words. He had nothing left to say.
All he could do was bite his lip to keep the wet, quivering voice from escaping.
Jin Geumryong's face, looking at Baek Cheon, contorted in anger.
"...You wretched fool. In the end, it has come to this. I... I warned you so many times!"
"Shut up!"
Baek Cheon's bloodshot eyes glared at him fiercely.
Despite Baek Cheon's menacing outburst, Jin Geumryong didn't get angry. After taking a deep breath, he stared directly at Baek Cheon with determined eyes.
Baek Cheon's eyes, filled with despair, and Jin Geumryong's eyes, boiling with cold fury, locked together for a moment. Finally, Jin Geumryong spoke.
"Do you want to wield a sword again?"
"...What?"
"We can make that happen. I, no, we can make that happen for you."
Baek Cheon couldn't believe what he was hearing. What was he saying...?
"Abandon Mount Hua."
Jin Geumryong's resolute voice sounded like thunder. Baek Cheon's eyes widened.
"If you abandon Mount Hua and return to the place where you truly belong..."
Each word etched itself into his mind.
"...we can restore you to your most glorious self."
Baek Cheon stared blankly at Jin Geumryong, who extended a cautious hand toward him.
"Come back to the Southern Edge Sect, Dong Ryong-ah. You don't have to suffer this pain anymore."
Baek Cheon closed his eyes.
This was not the temptation of a devil. But that made it all the more fatal, and all the more... painful.