Chapter 394: The Time He Waited and Took (7)

The teacher of the Sword of Beginning wasn’t a perfect man.

“That’s not how you do it. Watch closely.”

Those words of his always carried a hint of delight.

“You’re doing well. Decent.”

Those words carried a hint of jealousy every time.

“There’s nothing more I can teach you about this. You’re better than me at it.”

Every time, a hint of frustration mixed in those words. The Sword of Beginning could sense these feelings not only because he was attentive, but also because his teacher made no effort to hide. When he first joined the sect, his teacher had made something clear.

“I’ll treat you as you are. I won’t pretend or hide anything from you. You’ll always see my true face. What you see from me will match the depths of my heart.”

His teacher had faced him when he said this.

“Therefore, you must become strong. Some people use their honesty as a permit to do whatever they want. What they forget is that any heart can be sharp enough to cut another’s. Just like walking around with a sword out of the scabbard isn’t polite, treating someone as they truly are can never be just heartwarming.” His teacher grabbed both his shoulders and continued in a firm tone, “Nevertheless, I’ll treat you with honesty. I’ll cut your heart many times, so brace yourself. Do you understand?”

The Sword of Beginning nodded. His teacher was right. Raw honesty was truly terrifying. By facing the true side of reality, he learned that even when the people of the Mooncave had clung to him and the enemies had pointed their swords at him, they had never been fully honest with him.

His teacher also taught him how to deal with his realization.

“Don’t be considerate of what you can’t be considerate. Don’t evade. Face it, but don’t accept what cannot be accepted. Face me as if we were sparring with swords. Endure it. Confront it. Become stronger!”

That was what the Sword of Beginning did. He didn’t avoid getting wounded or awkwardly try to please people. He simply treated his teacher as he was, and his teacher did the same for him. Just as there could be no gaps between mountains and fields, no misunderstanding could come between them.

“It’s time for you to leave.”

Therefore, the Sword of Beginning couldn’t misunderstand the meaning of those words.

“Teacher.”

“I’ve held on for longer than I expected.”

His teacher was dying. True Ones lived by taking in light from the sun through their skin and drinking sap. Though their physique didn’t change much from birth to death, the glow of their skin roughly showed their age. When the Sword of Beginning first met him, his teacher’s glow had already been faint, but now he flickered like a candle whose wick had shrunk to almost nothingness.

“I was never strong enough to live forever. That’s all there is to it.”

His teacher coughed. His wick flickered brightly once, then dimmed. The Sword of Beginning learned that being unable to be misunderstood was both a terrifying and a sad thing. How it was also a joy so intense that it could hurt was another thing he learned.

“How fortunate that I could meet you before I leave this world.”

Those words held thick regret and deep gratitude.

“How lucky I was that I could teach you many things.”

Great relief and deep sorrow resided in those words.

“I’m glad that I could be your teacher.”

Bottomless anxiety and soaring pride emanated from his words.

“Teacher,” the Sword of Beginning said.

His teacher could have said, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I was lacking. Please forgive my inadequacy. I couldn’t stay ahead of you. In the end, I couldn’t even stand beside you.” Rather than apologizing for his flaws, his teacher expressed his gratitude for how they got to meet each other. He wasn’t lying or making up claims that weren’t heartfelt.

Even though both choices would have been equally true, his teacher chose to express his gratitude. The Sword of Beginning had not a single trace of doubt.

Thud!

The Sword of Beginning struck the floor with his forehead.

Thud!

His teacher, lying in his sickbed, watched him, his eyes holding faint flickers[1].

Thud! Thud! Thud!

They were bows that the Sword of Beginning offered to his teacher, who received them without a word. One bow held gratitude, the second sadness, and the last held both. If a soul dwelled within each fragment of the sky shattered from the Great Strikes, then surely the bows he offered would draw those souls to the earth[2]. The Sword of Beginning bowed seventeen times.

His teacher smiled. His face had no visible eyes or nose, yet he managed to form a broad smile just by moving his lips[3].

“Thank you.”

His teacher passed away. It didn’t take long for his flickering wick to fade away completely, leaving only his milky-white body behind. The Sword of Beginning no longer had a teacher, but continuing living without a teacher wasn’t as hard as one may think.

His teacher had taught him that there were matters in this world that existed regardless of how strong or weak he was. Even one person’s heart could injure him like a sharp sword. Having to treat each encounter as if he were drawing his sword against the other person showed just how full of enemies this world was.

He could kill everyone in the world but couldn’t save a single dying person. He wasn’t invincible; he was just a bit lucky to have been born a little stronger than most. That was all. He was an ordinary person.

At that moment, he realized he wasn’t lonely anymore.

***

The moment the person stepped onto the floor, the Tower made the announcement.

[One of the Nine Keys has been forged.]

[The realm fragments that your realm wove are now completely bound to your realm.]

[The ended realms have regained one more chance in the Lion Realm.]

[The ninety-seventh floor has been cleared.]

He didn’t step onto the stairs to the next floor. Instead, he walked quietly across the world—no, the worlds.

“Harsh things happened here once.”

The world was a museum with spotless, white walls. The white ceiling and floor were linked by pale, bright silver pipes. In a way, it resembled a hospital, but instead of having patients or hospital beds, there were many statues, paintings, and tools.

The statues’ themes were mixed, yet most were about children. The paintings showed torture tools used on children, such as the ones that pulled teeth or fingernails. Steam poured out from hoses with the push of a button. Other tools were used to grab hair and tear off scalps. Every tool that could cause pain was there.

A woman in a gown led the boys and girls, who were dressed in their seemingly new school uniforms. She said, “During the rule of the Constellation known as the Immortal Happiness Preacher, a victim was chosen every time there was a need for a new scapegoat. Their screams were used as fuel to make food, medicine, and to run machines.”

The children held their breath as they listened to the woman, who looked at each boy and girl in turn.

“Is it fair to kill a few so that many may live happily? If so, is it right to sacrifice one person for the sake of all? Which is more unfair? Instant death, or suffering until you eventually perish? Many people would give different answers. Some may believe that what happened here is our inevitable future and that all human efforts to avoid or postpone it are merely in vain. It’s all right to think like that. In fact, even if one of you thinks this is ideal, it’s okay for you to pursue this ideal. That’s fine, too.”

She looked up and peered at the paintings hanging in the museum.

“Because the tragedy of this world isn’t its existence, but that everyone became used to how the world was and no one questioned it.”

The woman stood before a statue that wasn’t depicting a child. It was a man with a sword. She brushed the back of her hand over the statue of the man.

“When no questions are asked, that becomes the norm, carrying no responsibility. In a world where no one takes responsibility, there is no hope for the future. Where there is no hope, there is no future. That was why this world remained in ruins until an outsider intervened."

Among the students, only a few understood the story. Many were drawn to the bloody, violent images. A child chuckled while looking up at the man’s statue. Another poked the torture tool with his finger and felt its texture, but only a few—very few—were lost in thought.

To those very few, the woman said, “Everyone, it’s okay to live however you want, but take responsibility for your own life.”

“Okay,” the students answered.

The man’s statue watched over them, and so did the man who looked like the statue. His presence undetected, he began to walk.

The next place he stepped into was a grand palace. There, a woman with long silver hair tied back stood before a blond woman.

“I told you there is no news.” The blond woman with a trowel tucked under her arm frowned. “Goddamn it, I want to know! When will he freaking return? Is he dead? ... He isn’t dead, right?”

The silver-haired woman let out a sigh and closed her fan. “No, since my Skill wasn’t activated, he’s not dead.”

“Are you sure? Remember the clan shadow’s former self. What if he’s been sealed?”

“Then he would have called for help.”

“What if he didn’t have the chance to ask for help?”

“That’s impossible.” The silver-haired woman crossed her legs and rested her chin on her hand. “Regardless of what happens, he’s my husband.”

The blond woman’s head drooped as she sighed. “You two are just blind fools when it comes to each other...”

“What did you just say?”

“I called you blind fools.”

The silver-haired woman stared at the blonde woman, who confidently met her gaze, but after about a minute, she cleared her throat and slipped her hand into her sleeve with a pout.

“Anyhow, here.”

“You’re changing the topic.”

“Just... take this!”

The silver-haired woman took the item. Inside was a dried fish. The woman’s delicate eyebrows furrowed. “What is this?”

“It's dried pollack.”

“Why?”

“Mister Pollock asked me to give you. He said he’s sorry about a lot of stuff.”

The silver-haired woman pressed her fingers to her forehead. “That man...”

She froze and turned her head. The blond woman also got startled and looked in the same direction, then immediately raised an eyebrow.

“There’s nothing there. Why? Did you see a ghost or something?”

The silver-haired woman smiled faintly but didn’t answer the question. The blond woman felt a chill at that sight.

Still, the silver-haired woman reached out and took the gift. “Tell him that I appreciate it.”

The blond woman’s eyes widened. “

Huh?

I thought you’d just toss it to the dogs or something. I guess the passage of time did make you softer.”

“No, I just sensed my husband getting jealous. Isn’t that adorable?” The silver-haired woman pushed the gift aside and rested her chin on her hand again.

“

Ah

, you two make me cringe. I’m going now.”

Even after the blond woman grumbled and left, the silver-haired beauty smiled as she gazed at a corner of her room. The man began walking again, now into a starless world, only made of dots and lines. Countless satellites were connected by long halls.

“This Space Iron Knight is...”

𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

The world he walked across next was one where only a mountain lodge sat on a dark mountaintop.

“This Dawn Mountain Lodge holds a terrifying legend.”

“What legend?”

“I don’t believe in legends.”

“What’s with this crazy old man?”

The next world he wandered through was a world where a lively girl held the hand of a frail woman as they crossed the street. In that world, the man made eye contact with the woman and perhaps also with the girl, who may have been the woman’s daughter. It may have been only a coincidence, or perhaps they had truly looked at each other. The man didn’t know.

“Mom! Mom! Look at this!”

“Yes, dear. This is what people call dried pollack. Where did you find it?”

“Mister Pollock gave it to me!”

Truthfully, he couldn’t even tell if the connection he shared with the silver-haired woman in one of the former realms was no more than another strange coincidence. However, he knew he would soon find out. Very soon.

The place where the man, who had crossed many worlds, finally stopped was in front of a red peony blooming in spring. Beyond the flower, nothing else but a sword was stuck in the ground. No tall tombstone and no mound like a mountain stood there. It looked like someone had tended this place, judging from the lack of rust on the sword. Overgrown weeds and haphazardly blooming wildflowers made the place look like nothing more than a flower garden.

But it was no mere flower garden. There was only that sword and that peony existing among the weeds and wildflowers.

The man bowed to the flower. In his first bow, his heart held a world that had sought endless joy through the pain of a child but had gone through death and rebirth. During the second bow, his heart held a heart of silver that had been trapped in eternity. The world, which the responsibility beyond love had killed but the love beyond the responsibility had revived, was also within his heart.

His heart held another world in the third bow, and others in the fourth, fifth, and sixth bows... Finally, in the ninth and last bow, his heart held the peony that bloomed at the end of a long winter.

The man bowed and stepped backward. Only when the peony was no longer visible did he turn around and walk away.[4]

[Entering the ninety-eighth floor.]

1. It appears that the teacher’s eyes and mouth become visible when needed. I don’t know how this works, but it does. ☜

2. This is about 초혼(招魂). It’s about a funeral ritual where a person goes out to the yard or to the roof with the deceased’s clothes and calls their name three times, wishing for the deceased’s soul to come back. ☜

3. Yeah. ☜

4. It’s considered impolite to turn your back while leaving the room. ☜