Chapter 1
Prologue. Baek-Ah (白兒)
A desolate wind swept across the cliff.
At its edge, a boy who had not yet fully grown knelt on the ground, his pale face soaked in blood.
Torn clothes. A body drenched in red.
The boy—precious to me as my own heart—trembled in his injuries yet looked at me with desperate eyes, shaking his head as if begging me not to come closer.
“Master….”
His quivering voice was steeped in unavoidable fear.
As I stepped toward him, a black shadow blocked my path and let out a sneering laugh. Just from their gazes, I knew who they were.
“Cheongrin. Former Lord of the Upper Sky Pavilion.”
Assassins raised in the shadows of the Heavenly Tiger Alliance, the orthodox coalition to which I once belonged.
“If you return quietly to the Alliance, we’ll spare the boy’s life.”
Though they spoke those words, it was obvious they had no intention of letting either of us live.
A voice filled with cold mockery threatened me.
“You’re nothing but a cripple with your martial arts ruined. You’re not thinking of fighting us, are you?”
❖ ❖ ❖
I, Cheongrin, am a crippled martial artist.
Once, I had been the youngest leader of an information organization, someone who knew nearly everything that happened in the martial world.
But the price of failing to protect what I was meant to protect was the loss of my martial arts—and so I had no choice but to abandon everything and retreat.
Then, at the age of twenty-one, while wandering the Central Plains—
I met that child.
It was a night when the sky felt unusually dark.
Exhausted, I had gone to bed early. That was the night the inn I was staying at caught fire.
“Fire!”
“There’s still a guest inside!”
The shouts of people jolted me awake.
Because I was staying in a room deep inside, by the time I opened my eyes, escaping was already difficult.
When I opened the door, flames lurked on all sides. Smoke burned my throat and clouded my mind.
Ahead, a collapsing wooden pillar blocked the exit at an angle. I was debating whether to draw my sword and look for another route when the pillar was pushed aside—and a boy rushed into the flames.
“Are you all right?!”
Judging by his clothes, he seemed to be an errand boy working at the inn.
About thirteen years old, perhaps.
Despite the soot smudging his round, youthful face, his skin was strikingly white and clear. Beneath his gently curved eyes, his vivid pupils reminded me of the surface of a still lake.
His clothes were soaked as if he had drenched himself in water.
When I coughed in the smoke, the boy handed me a wet cloth.
“I didn’t see you among those who escaped, so I was worried. Please hold onto my shoulder.”
He had come back into the flames solely to save me.
Supporting my staggering body, the boy began to walk.
“Watch your head.”
He stretched one hand awkwardly above me, trying to shield me from falling embers.
The corridor was worse than expected.
Yet astonishingly, the boy moved naturally around the flames, as if he could see their flow—predicting where the fire would collapse next.
It was not mere instinct, but precision, like someone who had been trained.
From time to time, he checked my condition, as though I were someone he had to protect before his own life.
Only then did I recall a feeling I had long forgotten.
The feeling of being protected.
Strangely enough… it hurt.
Perhaps that was why—
When a collapsing beam threatened to crush the boy, my body moved first.
A burning pillar slammed down hard on my left arm.
In that brief moment, I was surprised.
The instinctive fear of losing him had driven my body to act.
The boy’s eyes trembled as he looked at me.
“I’m fine.”
Enduring the pain, I drew my sword.
“I’ll secure the path. Let’s get out together.”
Using only techniques that required no internal energy, I cleared the way.
The moment we made it outside, the inn collapsed completely.
Only then did the boy let out a sigh of relief. Seeing that, I realized we hadn’t even exchanged names.
“Thank you for saving me.”
It wasn’t a formality—it was sincere.
As a wanderer, I had never imagined anyone would come looking to save me, which made his kindness all the more special.
“No, I was the one who was helped.”
He scratched his soot-stained cheek shyly.
“What’s your name?”
“…Sobaek.”
When I offered to take him to his family, he told me he had none, and that he lived as an errand boy at the inn.
I handed him my coin pouch, telling him to use it to get by for a while since he’d lost his job.
But Sobaek refused.
“Then… would you teach me how to use a sword instead?”
It was an unexpected request.
Beneath his thin face, his unusually clear eyes lingered in my thoughts.
From the way he moved through the fire alone, it was obvious he had talent—but I wasn’t shameless enough to accept.
“My martial arts are ruined. I’m in no position to teach anyone.”
And yet, the moment I met his gaze, something rose quietly within me.
A longing I thought I had lost long ago—the desire to trust someone.
Then, Sobaek knelt before me.
Eyes filled with summer wind fixed firmly on me.
“Master!”
That single, desperate word.
I should have refused outright—but I was caught by it.
A heart I thought long extinguished began to beat again. Breath filled my chest where it had once been dry.
For the first time since merely existing, someone reached out to me and said they believed in me.
A boy who called a man without martial arts his master.
“Two years.”
That was my answer—because my heart moved first.
“If you master all the fundamentals in two years, you must leave me and find a true master.”
That was the final line I had to draw.
Sobaek nodded without hesitation.
“My name is Cheongrin.”
He repeated it carefully, as if tasting each syllable.
“From now on, I’ll call you Baek-Ah.”
At those words, the boy smiled brightly.
And so, Baek-Ah became my first disciple.
After that, we settled in a small village in Shaanxi.
I taught him only the basics.
Because I couldn’t demonstrate techniques myself, my instruction was slow and strict—but Baek-Ah followed without complaint.
After training, with hands too delicate to even hold a sword, he cooked for me and heated my bathwater.
“You should stop doing this and train more.”
Even when I said that, he only smiled.
They were simple, happy days.
When I brought back pancakes from the market, Baek-Ah always split them in half and shared them with me.
“It tastes much better when you eat together.”
Watching him smile with crescent-shaped eyes, my own heart gradually softened.
On rainy days, he draped a blanket over my shoulders and silently offered me tea. When I coughed often, he cultivated a patch of medicinal herbs to cure me.
Every morning, he tidied my bedding and greeted me gently.
While living with Baek-Ah, I learned things I never could in the Upper Sky Pavilion.
I came to understand, better than anyone, how fulfilling it was to live alongside a disciple—amid forests, lakes, rain, and wind.
I was happy knowing I could still be of use to someone. His progress delighted me more than my own success ever had.
Two years passed in the blink of an eye.
As the herb garden in front of our house grew lush, Baek-Ah’s sword became sharper, his fundamentals flawless.
I was twenty-three. Baek-Ah was sixteen.
We didn’t speak of it, but we both knew our farewell was near.
It had been a short time.
It would be a lie to say I felt no regret, but I had taught him all I could. For his sake, I had to let him go.
Instead, I resolved to find him a true master.
The day I left alone to send a letter about Baek-Ah to an old acquaintance—
The sky was especially overcast.
That day, my disciple Baek-Ah was abducted.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Baek-Ah.”
His eyes turned toward me, fear trembling within their clarity.
“Master… please don’t come….”
His voice shook as though my death frightened him more than his own.
I could die.
But my disciple could not.
“I’ll make sure you get home.”
After smiling at him, I took out a special needle hidden in my sleeve.
The only means left to me—by burning my very life—to temporarily restore a fragment of my former martial prowess through true origin energy.
Half a gak—seven minutes.
I had to finish it within that time.
Shhk.
The moment the needle pierced my acupoint, energy rippled through me like a wave.
“So you refuse the recall order. In that case… we’ll have to kill you.”
At the leader’s gesture, the assassins rushed in from all sides.
I inhaled.
And charged.
I twisted my direction with footwork, scattering lethal techniques.
Blade-like energy grazed my neck; sword strikes surged relentlessly.
Dodging their combined assault, I countered with killing intent.
With the sound of bones breaking, three fell. The last— their leader—had his chest split open by my sword before he could recover.
“…Urgh!”
The man staggered, then collapsed.
Panting, I moved toward Baek-Ah.
The moment I cut through the blood-soaked bindings—
My chest twisted violently.
Cough.
Blood spilled into my mouth.
My knees buckled, and the world tilted.
The price of using every last drop of energy.
“Master!”
Baek-Ah rushed forward and caught my falling body.
His ragged breathing proved he was alive.
Only then did I feel relief.
Now all we had to do was go home together.
But my vision blurred.
My eyelids grew heavy. Sensation faded, one by one.
“Master… you have to live.”
Baek-Ah’s voice drifted farther away.
As I struggled to focus on him—
The leader, whom I thought dead, gathered his remaining strength and thrust his sword.
The blade surged toward me.
At that moment, Baek-Ah shoved me aside.
Thunk.
The cold blade pierced through Baek-Ah’s chest.
Blood sprayed as his body staggered.
He had taken the sword meant for me.
“Baek-Ah!”
I reached out—but I was too late.
The light in his eyes slowly faded.
His lips moved weakly.
No sound came out, but I could read them.
“I’m sorry.”
Then his body collapsed.
“No!”
I threw myself forward and caught him—
And together, we fell from the cliff.
Raging waters swallowed us whole.
As we sank into the dark water, my strength gave out, and I lost my grip on Baek-Ah.
My vision turned red.
From Baek-Ah’s blood.
His once-clear eyes looked especially crimson through it.
‘Baek-Ah!’
My outstretched hand grasped only empty water.
I tried to call out, but only bubbles escaped my lips.
Suppressed emotions surged forth.
The current cruelly tore us apart.
Cold water pierced deep into my lungs.
‘I can’t… let you go like this.’
My body, drained of energy, was heavy and sluggish.
In that red world of blood and water, I sank into deeper darkness.
‘Baek-Ah… I’m sorry.’
He had thrown away his life to save mine—yet I failed to protect him.
‘I promised I’d send you home….’
Amid regret that tore through my chest, the only thing that surfaced was Baek-Ah’s smiling face whenever our eyes met.
Eyes as pure as if made from the finest things in the world.
Hands rough with calluses, offering me tea.
A voice growing deeper. Arms and legs stretching tall.
Every memory of the two years we spent together flashed before me.
I could accept my own death.
But Baek-Ah’s death was unjust.
He was a child who should never have died like that.
My chest felt as if it were being torn apart.
Even tearing my flesh and organs apart wouldn’t hurt this much.
‘If I survive…’
With the last of my strength, I clenched my fist.
‘Your blood—I will claim it. Those responsible for your death will pay the price….’
At that moment—
My sinking body suddenly stopped.
In the dim darkness, two crimson-glowing eyes pierced through me.
‘Baek-Ah?’
No.
It wasn’t Baek-Ah.
Those vivid red eyes drew closer.
Desperate to live, I reached out—
And grasped him.
My body was dragged helplessly into the surge of water he created.
That was the last memory of me—
Cheongrin.
