Chapter 3
Connection (3)
It had been a mistake.
Even fiercer reactions came pouring in.
[Wahaha! You may have failed, but at least we can talk!]
[Well done, child. That’s it. Exactly that.]
[Clumsy, but still, you’ve got some tricks. Puhuhuhu.]
[That incantation that lit up your heart-scar, that’s what allowed this. Heheheh.]
Kang Yongwoon’s jaw dropped open.
Good heavens. I can actually talk with them?!
Which only made him more curious.
The Great Celestial Divine Art.
If he were to reclaim his family’s lost legacy and master it fully—just how far could he ascend?
No, wait. What matters right now is…
Resolving his questions.
“Uh, seniors? Are you saying that you are…?”
He quickly asked the question he wanted answered most: their true identity.
But the answers that came back were vague, elusive.
[Ha! This brat—!]
[What, you planning to make soup with our words? You should just get it without asking outright!]
[Why does it matter where we are, or who we are?!]
[Just ease your mind. Even if you’re lying on a roadside stone, that can be bliss. Think of it like that.]
[Heheheh. Think of us however makes you comfortable, child.]
Confusing as they were, there was something he was sure of.
They didn’t deny my question about whether they dwell in the heavens.
Then what else could the answer be?
The Heavens.
They were indeed those lofty existences.
Unbelievable—! I’m directly speaking with beings from the distant heavens?!
A chill of awe ran down his spine. He was so stunned that for a long while he could only gape wordlessly.
[Child?]
[Hey? You asleep?]
He snapped back to his senses.
Quickly, he pressed with the next question that burned at him.
“Seniors, then… what exactly is this ‘heart-scar’?”
This time the answers were clearer.
[Ah! The heart-scar? Curious about that? That much we can tell you. It’s exactly what the words say.]
[Dim-wit. The heart-scar is the product of your will, the trace of your heart. Got it?]
[You did quite well. That scar of yours remained intact. Normally, with your failure, it should have scattered to dust.]
[Indeed. Thanks to that, we’ve been kept entertained. Heheheh.]
[Unlike watching from afar, when we connect through a heart-scar, it’s as if we’re seeing the world with your own eyes.]
At least one thing became clear.
The heart-scar—it seems to be born from my will.
That must be why the mantra spoke of “lighting the scar with brilliance.”
Following Heaven, Obeying Heaven, the Supreme Mandate…
The opening and closing lines of the Great Celestial Divine Art. In other words, a key.
These beings are able to connect with the trace I left behind. That’s why we can communicate.
Even so, the fact that simply by connecting, they could see the world through his eyes was unexpected.
So it really is that different from just watching from afar…?
His questions only multiplied.
“Seniors, I’ve suddenly started seeing the dantian and energy flow of others. Why is that? Is it just an illusion, or…?”
He was relieved.
Unlike before, the answer this time was direct.
[That’s because your spiritual sight has opened—just a little, idiot.]
[Didn’t you see anything else?!]
[That’s all you got? Not the energy of nature? The cycles of heaven and earth? Heaven’s will? Nothing?]
The thrill of learning that he’d opened his spiritual sight, however slight, was short-lived.
He was disappointed to realize he couldn’t see anything grander—nature’s energy, the cosmic order, heaven’s intent.
Damn. It’d be amazing if I could see those too.
He sighed. No use being greedy.
At least it’s not an illusion. Just being able to see another’s energy flow is something, isn’t it?
It had plenty of uses.
Even if someone tried to secretly gather energy for a surprise strike, he’d see it.
And even if I don’t understand their incantations, I can still observe exactly how they circulate their energy.
That alone could be an immense help to his growth.
Then what’s left is…
Thump, thump, thump.
His heart began to race.
Ever since realizing he was communicating with heavenly beings, there was one question he had desperately wanted to ask.
“Seniors…”
Forcing his pounding heart to calm, Yongwoon carefully spoke.
“By chance, is my grandfather among you?”
His grandfather—his clan’s greatest master.
Unlike himself, his grandfather had cultivated the Great Celestial Divine Art to its later stages.
If I could connect with the heavens with only half the art, what about him, who mastered it further?
Perhaps he had already ascended to the heavens. That sliver of hope drove him to ask…
[Your grandfather?]
[And who might that be?]
[Not that it matters. Unless he’s over two hundred years old, there’s no way he’s here.]
[Ah! That’s right. In the last two centuries, you’re the only one who managed to open a connection.]
The replies crushed his hopes.
Hah… I should’ve known.
His heart sank. Even that little spark of expectation vanished, leaving him hollow.
So then how am I supposed to find Grandfather?
He had only one clue: a name.
Jin Yeong-hwi.
He left, saying he had to help his close friend Jin Yeong-hwi, and went to the Central Plains…
But who was that man?
A high-ranking official? A great martial artist?
Or perhaps a recluse, a noble scholar?
If he was going to be gone this long, couldn’t he at least have explained things in more detail?
What had happened to Jin Yeong-hwi?
What had been so urgent that he departed without even telling his descendants the truth?
Hah… Whatever it was, it must have been important.
Yes, that was the only reasonable way to think.
A man who had cherished his clan and his grandson would not vanish without a grave reason.
Anyway, if I could only find Jin Yeong-hwi…
But that seemed hopeless.
It wasn’t as though there was only one person in the world with that name.
How could he possibly track him down?
The Great Celestial Divine Art slowly faded.
[Anyway, child, why don’t you head outside for a while…?]
[It’s been long since we’ve strolled around a capital city…]
[Boy, if your curiosity’s satisfied, you’d best get moving…]
As the art dimmed, so too did their voices.
It seemed the incantation activated the heart-scar, while cutting off the art severed the connection.
Should I reconnect?
The thought crossed his mind, but he dismissed it.
Bah. What good would that do now?
He wasn’t the type who enjoyed idle chatter.
So he ignored it.
[Huh? The light of the heart-scar’s fading?]
[Hey, brat—!]
[You sly little rascal…]
[You just ask what you want and then cut us off?!]
Their voices faded, aggrieved, and then—snap—the connection was gone.
Thump.
Yongwoon threw himself onto his bedding.
Closing his eyes, he forced himself to ease the disappointment, the helplessness, and the crushing weight of rebuilding his family.
That day, Cheonhwa Pavilion was especially crowded.
The vast first and second floors were packed full, not a seat to be found.
Yet oddly, the place was hushed.
Because nearly every guest wore a sword at their waist.
“What on earth’s going on?!”
“They must be heading to the Martial Alliance’s Heroes Tournament.”
“Ah, the Heroes Tournament? The one recruiting new talents?”
“Exactly. So shut your mouth. Let the warriors eat in peace.”
Those who knew whispered cautiously.
And the warriors—knowing perfectly well the whispers were about them—pretended not to notice.
No one knew which sects might be connected to whom.
No one wanted to stir trouble on the eve of such an important tournament.
I was worried some hot-blooded youngsters would make a scene, but thankfully not.
Deep inside the first floor, seated by a window, Elder Sonwi of the Great Tiger Sword Sect watched his disciples eat quietly, satisfied.
The Heroes Tournament is a brutal gathering of all under heaven’s talents. Even defeat will be a great lesson.
Bitter medicine is good for the body.
I don’t know how many the Alliance will recruit, but my disciples are still too green.
Especially his second disciple, Kwon Junghyeon.
Sonwi had only accepted him because of a hefty donation, but the boy was lacking in both character and skill.
Still, he had brought his disciples here for the sake of his promising first pupil and his lovable youngest.
He wanted them to gain valuable experience—even if bitter.
“Once we leave the capital, we’ll run at full speed with lightness techniques. Before that, let me treat you to a feast. Order whatever you like, I’ll pay for it all. Hahaha!”
His disciples cheered.
“Wow, Master, thank you!”
“Hahaha! Then today I’ll be sure to bleed your purse dry, Master.”
“Yay! Then I’ll order roast duck!”
“And with duck comes palace-style vegetables, of course! What else should we eat?!”
The foolish boys chattered merrily about fine dishes.
“…Hm?!”
Suddenly, Sonwi’s eyes snapped toward one spot.
Something had caught his attention—something that made his senses flare.
“Excuse me, I’ll just take this food.”
It was Kang Yongwoon, carrying dishes.
“Ah! Yongwoon-ah!”
“How’s your body? Are you feeling better?”
“What do you want to eat? Just say it. The Pavilion Lord said to make sure you eat hearty.”
Had the Pavilion Lord really told them so?
Everyone greeted him kindly, warmly.
“Beef noodle soup, please—!”
Yongwoon answered with a shy smile.
Strange.
Sonwi watched him closely.
From his attire, he was just a lowly server at Cheonhwa Pavilion. Yet something about him was unmistakably different.
“Hahaha! Good. When you’re unwell, meat’s the best. Eat plenty and rest well.”
“Wait just a bit, we’ll bring it right out.”
“Thank you, brothers.”
As Yongwoon smiled and spoke, Sonwi felt as if the whole room brightened.
And then—
“Hey, you there!”
“Oi, brat, get over here!”
A harsh voice rang out beside Sonwi. His disciples were calling out to Yongwoon.
“Junior brother, even if he’s just a server, you shouldn’t speak so rudely.”
“Aw, senior brother, come on. Why bother being polite to some lowly server?”
The words of his second disciple, Kwon Junghyeon, stabbed Sonwi in the heart.
This boy…!
Yes, that was exactly his flaw—arrogance born of moneyed birth, utterly unlike the gentle first disciple.
“Master’s hungry too. Shouldn’t we order quickly so we can eat and be on our way?!”
“Fine, fine. Just order then.”
Even the eldest disciple lowered his voice, dragged into Junghyeon’s rudeness.
No. I can’t let this go. I need to teach him a hard lesson—!
Sonwi was about to lash out, but stopped himself.
Doing so here would only trouble Cheonhwa Pavilion and its common patrons.
“Hey, server! Are you deaf?! Get over here and take our order already!”
Junghyeon’s voice shot like an arrow into Yongwoon’s ears.
Ha… was he calling me?
Turning toward the voice, Yongwoon sighed inwardly.
“Yeah, you! What are you dawdling for instead of taking our order, huh?!”
The contempt and scorn in Junghyeon’s tone pierced Yongwoon’s chest like a knife.
Not so long ago, I was the heir of the illustrious clan, honored as Grand Heir of the Triple Walls…
A burning heat welled up deep within his chest.
And with it, a sting of sorrow.
Like lantern-slides, memories flickered before him—his father, mother, beloved siblings, the happy days they shared…
But what good are those memories now?
With the fall of the empire, his clan had been destroyed as well.
Now, to find Grandfather and secure the latter half of our family’s Great Celestial Divine Art, I serve here in Cheonhwa Pavilion as nothing more than a server.
And as a server, he had duties.
So he would fulfill them.
I must endure. Endure and persist. Until the day I find Grandfather and reclaim our legacy.
Since they called me, and everyone’s busy, I’ll just… hm?!
But as he forced down the heat in his chest and turned, Yongwoon’s eyes widened.
Wha—what’s with all that?!
Gleaming motes of light.
It was inner energy.
