Vol 1 Chapter 1 – Heukcheon pt 2

And still, in the end, they had met.

If fate truly existed, it was a vile, arrogant thing. Yae Jinrang clenched his fist. Blood dripped steadily from his palm where his nails had cut through the skin.

The moment he saw Kang Oh drawn to Woo, like metal pulled to a magnet, his heart dropped. He could not mistake what he saw.

“My Lord!”

A servant, always stationed nearby, cried out in alarm upon seeing blood pool beneath his feet. Yae Jinrang scowled. He had torn his own hand again. Self-inflicted pain was an old habit of his. One he thought he had discarded after taking Kang Oh under his wing. But the moment that man and Kang Oh reunited, the old reflex came back like nothing had changed.

“Quiet. The wound is closed. Stop fussing and bring the Third Overseer to me.”

As if the injury had never happened, the bleeding stopped almost instantly. Only a faint scar remained. It was possible because Yae Jinrang had long since reached the highest realms of martial cultivation. His healing surpassed normal limits.

Even the faint mark vanished in moments. But his eyes, as they looked down at his hand, were dark with bloodshot fury.

That bastard’s blood. He still regretted not seeing it spilled.

If there were any justice in the world, that man deserved exactly what he had now. No name. No honor. Living like a dog with mange.

But for now, separating Kang Oh and Woo took priority. He would not allow their fates to entangle again.

He would summon the Third Overseer and have the servant moved. Far away. Somewhere out of Kang Oh’s reach.

Even if it meant deceiving his most cherished disciple, Yae Jinrang did not doubt he was doing what was right.

—

Kang Oh began his investigation immediately.

He had only just returned from an assignment outside Heukcheon, and fatigue weighed heavily on him, but he felt an uneasy sense that resting now would be a mistake.

With capable subordinates at his side, collecting information about a single servant was not difficult. Within a few hours, a report had been compiled and placed before him.

Woo had begun working in Heukcheon eight years ago. The first line stated that plainly. But among the sparse details, one thing stood out. The one who had brought him into the sect was none other than Yae Jinrang.

Yae Jinrang almost never brought anyone in personally. When he brought Kang Oh ten years ago, the entire sect had erupted with whispers. But when Woo arrived two years later, there had been no such uproar.

It was as if someone had made sure to silence it.

Kang Oh frowned and turned the page. The candle beside him flickered, casting shifting shadows over the paper.

Woo had been handed over to the Third Overseer. That alone was curious.

Heukcheon had three overseers who managed the sect’s internal affairs. Among them, the Third Overseer was known for being the most severe and cold. If Yae Jinrang had brought Woo in himself, that would usually suggest a degree of personal interest. So why place him under the harshest of the three? The First Overseer was blunt but fair, and the Second, though quick-tempered, was known to be generous. Either of them would have made more sense.

According to the report, the Third Overseer had shown him some leniency at first. He was, after all, a servant directly entrusted by the Lord of Heukcheon. But one day, when Woo made a mistake, the overseer struck him. Yae Jinrang had seen it happen and said nothing.

From that moment, the abuse intensified.

This kind of treatment, not quite favor and not quite neglect, pushed Woo further from others. He never integrated, never blended into life in Heukcheon. He remained alone for eight years.

The report was brief. Just a few lines, barely enough to account for a life. Yet it felt brittle, like sand scraped thin across dry earth.

Strange.

From the first moment he had seen him, something had tugged at his mind. There were no known ties. No explanation as to why his master had brought this man in, or why he had made him a servant.

There was more to Woo than met the eye.

What troubled Kang Oh most was his master’s reaction. When Kang Oh asked to investigate the abuse, Yae Jinrang had agreed in the end, but his expression had been uneasy. It did not match the master he knew, the one who had always been gentle, patient, and indulgent toward his youngest disciple.

He had looked like someone afraid of what might happen if he said no.

Kang Oh fed the report to the flame.

Defying his master’s wishes had never sat well with him. Perhaps it was better to let the matter go. Woo was not a cultivator, nor a noble’s son. He was just a servant crawling at the bottom.

He reached to scatter the ashes, but his hand paused.

One character remained unburned.

Woo.

The name meant foolish.

Who would give their child a name like that, unless they were born under the hatred of their parents?

Or perhaps it wasn’t his name at all.

The thought arrived without warning, and Kang Oh stilled. He had tried to dismiss the man, yet Woo kept coming back to him.

There is a saying in Buddhism that even a brush of sleeves can be fate. Still, this felt strange.

Kang Oh was not someone who paid attention to others. If someone caught his interest, it was usually because he wished to test their strength. That was the extent of his curiosity.

But Woo had none of the qualities of a martial artist. His body was thin and sickly, marked by abuse. There was no power to be found in him.

He was simply a man, frail and forgotten.

Kang Oh stood silently in the candlelight.

“Watch the Third Overseer. If he lays a hand again on what belongs to Heukcheon, stop him.”

“At your command.”

The subordinate who had been waiting bowed low and vanished. His movements were so quiet and fluid they reminded Kang Oh of mist drifting through the air.

He was one of Honamdan, a sub-sect that Kang Oh had personally founded and cultivated within Heukcheon. When his master once suggested that it was time to start taking on subordinates, Kang Oh had chosen them himself. He had no desire to compete for the position of the next Lord of Heukcheon, so most of those he selected came from minor clans or had no background at all. What they did have was exceptional talent.

To avoid giving the impression that he was building power, Honamdan remained out of sight. They served a master with no ambition, yet none of them ever complained. They followed Kang Oh with quiet devotion, and he did what he could to return their loyalty.

Even so, everything in Heukcheon felt like something he had obtained through a heavy debt. It was as if he had pledged something important to gain what he had. The weight of that bargain sat thick in his throat, like a stone that would not go down.

He had never spoken of this feeling. Not to his master, Yae Jinrang. Not even to his most trusted men.

Because he held the full favor of the Lord of Heukcheon yet carried himself with care, Kang Oh was often said to be a young man with a surprisingly deep mind. In truth, it simply felt like wearing clothes that did not belong to him. It had never fit.

How could he afford to be interested in others? This position, this favor, all of it felt unreal. The only thing that ever meant anything to him was martial strength. That was something he had earned. That was something that was truly his.

Most of Kang Oh’s reputation, both within and beyond Heukcheon, had been forged through combat. He built his name by fighting masters from other sects.

They said he was ruthless. Brutal. A man who found pleasure in the sight of blood. Such rumors always followed the Third Disciple of Heukcheon.

And yet he followed every rule. He sent formal notices before every duel. There were always witnesses, never fewer than two.

Still, the stories grew. They said that if all the righteous masters who died by his merciless hand were gathered in a line, the procession would stretch from Anhui to Luoyang.

Even though no one had actually died, the rumors were endless.

Since Heukcheon represented the dark faction of the martial world, such things were inevitable. On the other hand, Baekragung, the leading righteous sect, was not burdened by such rumors.

There was a time when the Lord of Heukcheon, Yae Jinrang, and the Lord of Baekragung had stood shoulder to shoulder to drive the Hyeolgyo out of the Central Plains. Back then, the entire martial world united against the heretical threat. Martial artists from both the dark and righteous paths who valued honor and reason would speak of loyalty and camaraderie over shared drinks. And this was not so long ago. It happened during the prime of Yae Jinrang, Kang Oh’s master.

Even so, the hearts of those in the martial world were cold. Just because they pursued different martial arts, people divided Heukcheon and Baekragung into opposing sides. As the conflict between the dark and righteous factions became increasingly visible, the future of the Murim Alliance and its survival into the next generation grew uncertain.

Some gossiped that Heukcheon would eventually sever ties and establish itself as an independent force, just as things had been when the Cheonma Singyo once ruled.

If only the missing Lord of Baekragung could be found, perhaps there would still be room to negotiate. But that man had vanished from the martial world ten years ago. The tale of his mother searching for him was widely known. Even now, though so many years had passed and the likelihood of his survival was slim, Baekragung continued to send out search parties. At times, Kang Oh found himself feeling a flicker of envy whenever he saw that unwavering devotion.

The missing Lord of Baekragung would never know what it felt like to drift through life like Kang Oh, like a rootless reed. After all, didn’t he have family still searching for him so desperately? But Kang Oh was alone between heaven and earth, truly with no one by his side.

Though he had his master’s affection, everyone said that Yae Jinrang was a fickle man. That even if he smiled like a flower today, he could turn into a vicious demon tomorrow. Of course, Kang Oh trusted his master. But even so, he wished for something stronger. A bond. Something that would tie him to this world and hold him in place.

“How foolish… so foolish…”

Wasn’t he the real fool, just like that servant boy whose name literally meant “fool,” simply because he couldn’t be satisfied with what he’d been given?

Returning once again to thoughts of Woo, Kang Oh sighed deeply. He had thought it was just a flickering ember he could snuff out with a press of his thumb, but it seemed there were still sparks left. At this rate, even if he tried to forget, the memories would keep resurfacing and leave him uneasy.

His master might not have been pleased, but once permission had been granted, there was no reason to stop Kang Oh’s investigation. Since it was done under the pretext of restoring order within Heukcheon, he would not be criticized. If anything, he might even be commended.

With a low breath, Kang Oh blew out the candle. As if waiting for that moment, the darkness crept in like cold iron, wrapping tightly around him.

It was a silent night.

—

“You’ll be living somewhere else starting today.”

It was the Third Overseer who had come to the servants’ quarters early that morning to deliver the message to Woo. Although Woo found it strange, he didn’t say anything aloud. His change in lodging must have involved Yae Jinrang’s decision. Objecting would be meaningless.

He had met Kang Oh, after all. Sooner or later, some form of judgment was bound to follow.

The Third Overseer gave him no time to gather his few belongings. Woo was rushed out, barely carrying anything. He felt the stares on his back from the other servants.

Although Woo had lived in the same building as the other servants, he had always been assigned a private room due to certain “special circumstances.” From time to time, the Lord of Heukcheon would summon him directly for errands, so no one approached him. Despite being one of them, the difference in how he was treated had always been clear to the others.

Once, he had believed himself like a crane, noble and distant, arranging its white feathers in a high perch. A white egret who did not flock with crows. But in truth, he was the filthiest, the most lowly of them all.
The pride he once held had been soiled beyond recognition. His entire life had been denied.

Now, the only thing that kept pushing his powerless self forward was guilt. He couldn’t lift a single finger to change his fate, and all that remained was the weight of what he owed.

A life born of sin should be spent repaying it, no matter how long it takes.

It was this belief that allowed him to obey, even when pushed and shoved by the Third Overseer. Even when he nearly fell, he forced himself to walk on.

The place he was taken to was a small mountain on the edge of Heukcheon territory. A lone hut stood there, the kind of shelter that looked ready to collapse in the next storm. The Third Overseer shoved him toward it.

“You’ll be staying here from now on.”

“Yes. Understood.”

“No one brings as much grief to the Lord of Heukcheon as you. Yet you crawl on like a worm.”

“If you had even a shred of shame, you would have ended yourself already. But no, you are beneath even beasts.” The Third Overseer spat at his feet.

Woo lowered his head.

The Third Overseer never understood why Yae Jinrang, despite clearly despising Woo, still kept him nearby. He believed his harsh treatment of Woo was justified by loyalty to the Lord of Heukcheon. Even if the lord never expressed it openly, he could always sense the displeasure in his master’s eyes whenever he looked at Woo.

So he became convinced that Woo was to blame and had to be punished. Acting on instinct, he thought he was simply fulfilling his master’s unspoken will.

The beatings had started years ago. In the beginning, there had been reasons. But now, there were none at all.

Sometimes, it was because he stood out. Sometimes, just because he happened to be in the way. Other times, it was simply because someone found his face unpleasant. The baseless hatred toward Woo only deepened, with no sign of letting up. But he never resisted. He simply endured in silence.

“From today onward, you will cut down the trees on this mountain.”

“Y- Yes.”

“Do not come down until every last tree is cut. The rice is inside the hut.”

The Third Overseer pointed to a stump nearby. An axe was buried in it, its handle splintered, its blade worn and missing teeth. Rust had crept across the surface. One look was enough to know that trying to cut anything with it would ruin his hands before it felled a single tree. But Woo understood well enough that being given a tool at all was something to be grateful for.

After the Third Overseer left, Woo stepped into the hut to check the rice.

Just as he expected, it was half rice and half sand. It had been mixed with such care that separating the edible grains from the rest would be nearly impossible. There was no way to scoop from one side to avoid the worst of it.

He would need to strip bark and fashion a sieve first. Without it, even after a fortnight of sifting, the sand would never be fully gone.

Woo picked up the axe and walked toward the nearest tree. His body had long lost its muscle. The internal energy that once filled his core was gone. But the calluses on his hands remained.

They were born from years of servitude, hardened through repetition and routine.

Once, these hands had been wrapped in brocade and composed poetry. Now they were coarse and scarred. But this was the skin that suited him best.

Guess I should get started.

The sunset had come early that day, and with it came a deep weariness that settled on his shoulders like a burden. The shadows stretched long, signaling the end of his work. He would need to light a fire soon. Though this mountain was within Heukcheon’s borders and likely free of wild beasts, he knew better than to take chances.

If the Third Overseer wished to torment him, he would not hesitate to release a wild dog into the forest just for that purpose.

Woo rubbed bark together until the fire caught. As the flame flickered to life, he let out a dry laugh. The sight of himself clinging to such a miserable life was absurd. He had spent so long wearing that dry, hollow expression, and now here he was smiling at a fire like a fool.

There was nothing left in life worth holding on to, yet his body still scrambled to survive. He was utterly sick of it, down to his marrow.

But how could he seek death? His life no longer belonged to him.

He tucked the smoking bark into a nest of dry twigs. As he blew and fanned carefully, a small pop echoed through the wood, and the fire took.

Night had already fallen.

The flame widened slowly, glowing red as it opened its mouth to feed. Woo hunched near it, drawing close to the only warmth granted to him.

The fire burned hot enough to scald if he moved too close, but it was the only way to push back the silence that crept in with the night.

A wolf howled in the distance.

Woo swallowed a sigh. He had underestimated the Third Overseer’s cruelty. How had that man managed to find a mountain within Heukcheon’s domain where wild wolves still roamed? The effort it must have taken to locate such a place, simply to exile one servant, was impressive in a way, the precision of his malice.

He sprang to his feet, preparing for the possibility of a wolf attack. His urgency threw him off balance and he staggered. He barely managed to steady himself, then looked down at his own legs and let out a bitter smile.

He had lived more than twenty years as a robust martial artist. The instincts were still there. Whenever he moved too quickly, his body forgot what it had become and lost its footing.

It had already been ten years since he ended up like this, yet sometimes he still forgot entirely. Not just the leg. His back was beginning to stoop. His posture had long since become uneven, and he no longer stood upright without effort.

To fall from the heights of a cliff that reached the edge of heaven and survive with only a damaged back and one injured leg was nothing short of a miracle. It could only be explained by the fact that his body had once neared the indestructible state of a high-level martial artist.

But no matter how strong the body, no matter how great the cultivation, the internal organs could not be fortified in the same way. After the fall, he had spent months, even years, confined to bed. During that time, it was Yae Jinrang who helped him.

He cared for Woo until he could stand and walk again on his own.

Despite his noble status, the Lord of Heukcheon had tended to him directly. He reset broken bones. He wiped away the pus from torn flesh. He applied medicine until the wounds closed.

Woo owed him a debt that could never be repaid.

It was not just because Yae Jinrang had nursed him back from death. It was because he had accepted Kang Oh.

The brush of movement broke through his thoughts.

Woo tensed. For a moment, he thought it might be a wolf. But if it had been, it would have already struck.

Still, the presence in the air was real. This was no trick of the wind.

Someone was there.

And they were close.

Was it just his imagination?

Woo felt an odd sense of familiarity in this moment. He turned his head slowly toward the direction of the sound.

“I seem to have lost my way again. May I share your fire?”

There stood Kang Oh, cloaked in the dark of night.

“How… how did you…”

Woo stood frozen, his face drained of color.
The words spilled out before he could stop them, and he bit his tongue too late.
He had revealed his agitation, at the sudden appearance of someone who should never have been here.

He was someone long accustomed to maintaining composure.

---

TN

Baekragung – A well-known martial sect and the central pillars of the righteous path in the Murim. It holds great influence in the Central Plains. Literal meaning: White Silk Sect.
Dan Woo Hyo is the current lord, though he has been missing for years.

Hyeolgyo – A dark sect that once led a rebellion and crushed other sects. Literal meaning: Blood Cult.

Central Plains/Jungwon – The main region where many major sects are located, often considered the core of the martial world (Murim) and home to the righteous factions.

Gyeonggong – A martial movement technique that allows the user to leap great distances or move with speed and lightness.