The scorching midday sun got hotter.
Oh my.
Summer suddenly arrived, but nothing happened in Cheonma Church.
On the contrary, the action took place outside, in a place called Murim or Gangho.
To put it simply, Oh Myeong-seong finally entered the harvesting period.
However, it wasn’t because he held on until the end.
I had almost stopped painting after doing something where the monks were.
Unknown techniques are frightening.
But it’s also a place where people live.
Incidents happen.
There was a tournament for the swordsmen of the Five Mountains to merge, and Oh Myeong-seong participated. After all, he was one of those swordsmen.
But when I say swordsman, faded memories sparkle. Isn’t it strange to refer to those skilled in swordplay as mere swordsmen?
In the end, they’re just thugs, right?
Gathering to fight against a larger group, they chose the strongest to become the leader. A simple hierarchy competition.
He entered the competition.
And there, once.
When he lost, the monks had halted my movements, and I was able to move again.
And not long after, he was ambushed by Yoo Jo-young, who was his former master. At that time, he couldn’t defeat Yoo Jo-young and collapsed from a fatal wound.
However, when Yoo Jo-young tried to kill Guseong-yong’s daughter, who was his girlfriend and had died about a year ago, he called for me.
Not that he specifically called out to me. He merely spoke to the frightening power. Just, he resolved to use it, regardless of the cost.
Words have power.
So, I recited the contract document through the connection, and he agreed.
Yes.
Reviving while regenerating all his wounds, he immediately used my power to kill Yoo Jo-young.
It’s strange, as when the faded memory passed along what he knew, I didn’t read it like I expected.
I mean, why don’t you understand that the real world and the story are different?
No matter how similar it looks, if names are different, everything is different, right?
Anyway, things spiraled amusingly.
Even the monks who defended him turned him into a rogue, and the Owak Swordsmen, which Yoo Jo-young had merged with, branded him a criminal.
Yes.
A cycle of death began.
He ran away with Gumi Mil, daughter of Guseong-yong. They were lovers, after all.
But wherever he went, the Murim public cried out, calling him a swordsman, and attacked. At first, Oh Myeong-seong didn’t kill anyone, controlling his strength, but eventually, he killed someone.
Because Gumi Mil was in danger.
Once was hard; the next was easy.
If someone blocked his path, he would cut them without hesitation.
Now he walks a road paved with blood and corpses. Moreover, Gumi Mil, who was by his side, encouraged this behavior, breaking his heart.
As a born member of Cheonma Church, no matter how many good deeds he did, he couldn’t shatter the preconceived notions.
Though she might have said that to soothe him, if she truly wanted to return Oh Myeong-seong to his original state, she needed to scold him there.
So Oh Myeong-seong changes.
To survive.
At first, he killed those trying to kill him.
But his heart grew numb over time. And after some time passed, he now kills anyone who merely blocks his way.
The version of him that tried to discern friend from foe, that tried to avoid confrontation with words, is long gone. Now, even the slightest hint of malice prompts him to kill whoever stands before him.
Never resting for a day, constant pursuit of those trying to kill him makes it understandable for his heart to crumble.
Originally, he seemed to have the thought of spiraling into death like that, but he began to draw from the Sangdanjeon to use me immediately.
As long as he insists on living, his power will never wane.
He can’t be stopped by sheer strength.
Thus, once the wheel of hatred begins to turn, it gathers speed and rolls on.
As I lingered a bit longer in Cheonma Church, a path stained with blood emerged.
The Owak Swordsmen came to kill, the monks came to kill, and eventually, the whole world turned against him.
They leave behind a trail of blood and destruction, steadily approaching this place.
Of course, they didn’t come here in a straight line, but without the touch of the righteous Murim, this is the location they geographically knew the most.
To be precise, it’s a location Gumi Mil knew.
And Cheonma knows this.
Cheonma Church, the adversary of Guseong-yong. Perhaps due to their desire to control the Gangho, they have means to gather information.
Though Cheonma is only acknowledged purely for his strength, within the year since that day, the people of the Cheonma Church—including the current leader—come to serve Cheonma as their lord.
So, with such information available, it was acquired immediately without any special blockade.
A man with purple hair tarnished in the blood of Murim.
A powerful force that conquers all adversaries.
People immediately thought of the Divine Warrior. A legendary martial artist who entered the Gangho with the name Cheonma and exited with the name Divine Warrior.
That story couldn’t possibly bypass Cheonma Church.
Other rumors include how a blind man became the head of the Owak Swordsmen, or stories of certain sects entering seclusion due to too many deaths, or that one sect near here was erased by a monster.
But the main content revolved around Oh Myeong-seong.
And within the Cheonma Church, they pondered over what to do with him.
But unlike there, this place continued on with daily life.
Soo-oh has become quite skilled with the sword now. Of course, she’s grown a bit taller, too.
I’ve grown taller as well. I used to be slightly above average for a girl, but now I’m catching up to the average height of boys. And perhaps due to improvements in diet, I’ve put on quite a bit of weight.
When they treated Choseol like a mere ingredient, she was barely fed anything resembling nutrition—almost like soup, so it’s no wonder I’m gaining weight now that I eat proper food.
If I keep growing like this, I might end up with quite a feminine figure.
Anyway.
Late afternoon.
Cheonma, having given Soo-oh an assignment, came to sit down on the porch where I was sitting. Suddenly, he mentioned the name of someone who had become quite famous recently.
“Do you know Oh Myeong-seong?”
I turned my head to look at Cheonma. I knew the reason she was asking that question. So I pondered briefly on what to do, but decided to respond as I always do.
“Yes. I know him. The man who used Heupsung Grand Law on Eunchun to obtain a part of me.”
I stated the fact.
As soon as I said it, Cheonma’s expression changed to one of realization. Did she want to ask how the contract was made? It’s a suspicious situation, isn’t it?
Once I understand my nature, it doesn’t take long for suspicion to run deep.
So, I gave her a logical explanation.
“Why is it strange that I know the name of the person I made a contract with?”
When making a contract, it’s normal to exchange names, right? Of course, there may be deceitful people, but I can always argue that regarding that part, it’s the unknown monster!
With that mindset, I faced Cheonma.
“Do you know my name, too?”
“Jeongha. Or should I mention my surname, Im?”
Cheonma’s eyes widened.
The faded memory revealed the shining pupils within the dark orbs known as the demon-eye. I could see that clearly.
“You shouldn’t have mentioned that surname.”
“Yes, I didn’t, but I know it.”
Because I have your memory. The moment light touches me, I obtain the memory. Thus, when Oh Myeong-seong dies and takes warmth, I don’t gain memories separately.
Because from the moment he entered the harvesting period, I experience everything he sees, hears, and feels along with him.
So while I may know what he thought before becoming a harvesting target, I don’t know his thoughts after.
This is one of my weaknesses.
Physical reactions—through a specialized term called cold reading—I could guess his thoughts!
“So you also knew Oh Myeong-seong’s name.”
“Yes.”
I even know that he is approaching this place. Of course, he wanders back and forth in different directions, sometimes crossing mountains or deep forests instead of following the road.
Like air flowing from a high-density area to a low-density area, he is slowly approaching where there are fewer pursuers.
After answering, I fell silent, inviting questions, but Cheonma didn’t ask any.
“Master! I’ve done everything you asked!”
“Do 40 rounds of what you were doing yesterday.”
“Eek!”
Soo-oh screamed as she ran off again.
She’s brimming with energy even in summer. Whether it’s due to Cheonma’s special lessons or the power of Cheonma Martial Art, she shows remarkable resistance to heat and cold.
I suspect she uses that unique energy called Qi to control her internal temperature.
As for me?
I live out the heat when it’s hot, and the cold when it’s cold.
My body suffers, but my heart isn’t particularly troubled.
If my body breaks, I simply regenerate.
As I sat watching Soo-oh fade into the distance, Cheonma opened her mouth again.
“You don’t ask anything. Aren’t you curious as to why I said the name Oh Myeong-seong?”
Well, I might know more details than you. But I swallowed that remark.
After all, for a conversation, there must be an exchange of dialogue. If an unfamiliar topic arises, it is polite to ask what it means.
Fearing I might speak carelessly, I decided to change the subject.
“Cheonma, I plan to leave this place in a few years.”
Saying this, I subtly hinted at my disinterest in Cheonma Church. Though in reality, I am quite interested!
“You plan to leave?”
“There’s no one here looking for me. I’d like to share what I have, but there are no people. Therefore, I have to go out, don’t you think?”
Whether Cheonma provides a Cheonma Church member or says to leave, it’s beneficial to me. The worst scenario would be to be sealed away, but I know she wouldn’t make that choice.
After all, there’s a bond now.
Cheonma looked as if facing a difficult question, like a student caught in thought. Watching her, I pushed her inwardly.
Answer me.
What choice will you make?
