.｡.:✧The Last Day Before the War ✧:.｡.

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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On the last day before the Seven Flowers War began.

Jin Gayoung was training for the first—and last—time since joining the Mudang Sect.

*Whoosh—!*

The massive *Daewol* (Great Moon Axe) cut through the air, weaving freely through the void, displaying its might.

It spun horizontally in a full circle before slashing down vertically with the same momentum, then rebounded off the ground, using the impact as a springboard to soar high into the sky.

Jin Gayoung’s body swayed like an accessory attached to the handle, while the *Daewol* led the dance of martial arts as if it had become the master.

*‘It’s getting there.’*

That was the right way. A weapon’s path should never be obstructed by its wielder.

No matter the weapon, the most crucial aspect of martial techniques was allowing the weapon to move freely on its own.

That said, it should never be allowed to run wild, disregarding its master.

*Whoosh! Whooosh—!*

In that sense, Jin Gayoung’s *Jincheon Byeokyeomwol* (Heaven-Sundering Frostfire Moon) had undoubtedly reached an exceptional level.

Even if she had previously trained in the similar *Jincheon Byeokyeomgeombeop* (Heaven-Sundering Frostfire Sword Art), that was, after all, a corrupted martial art.

In fact, abandoning what she had known and mastering a new martial art from scratch was an even more remarkable achievement—yet she had reached this level in just a few months.

*—Kya, impressive. At her age, I was barely being dragged around by the Moonlight Division. As expected of my descendant.*

*‘It’s rare for us to agree on something.’*

Talent.

A gift bestowed by the heavens, something innate—unless one possessed infinite time like I did, no amount of mediocrity could ever reach such heights.

Though different in direction from Cheonhwa, whom I had seen the other day, her talent was by no means inferior.

However, there was one problem…

“How was I, Mister?”

“You were like *Jincheon Byeokyeomwol* itself.”

“Uh… Is that good?”

“Not for you. Because you dream of becoming a master.”

“Khek…!”

Jin Gayoung clicked her tongue, clearly frustrated.

But I had no intention of going easy on her.

“Since the Seven Flowers War starts tomorrow, I won’t tell you to fix it right away. But you should at least be aware of your current flaw.”

“Ahem, what should I do, then?”

“Come at me. I’ll show you more clearly through sparring.”

As I spoke, I picked up a tree branch lying nearby.

It was one left behind by the Mudang Sect’s disciples when they were cleaning up.

Jin Gayoung gave me a dubious look.

“Don’t worry. Have you forgotten who I am?”

“…Ah!”

“Come at me. Think of me as a training dummy.”

“Okay, I’ll go right in!”

*Skreee—!*

After spinning her axe a few times, she charged at me, using the rotational force to swing the *Daewol* down.

*Swish—* *Tap.*

I twisted my waist to evade and lightly nudged the side of the axe with the branch, easily deflecting her strike.

But even after her move was countered, Jin Gayoung didn’t hesitate and immediately followed up with another attack.

*Whooosh—!*

Her body and the spinning axe moved as one, descending vertically from midair.

Though she must have been holding back since this wasn’t a real duel, the sheer force behind the strike hinted at the *Daewol*’s destructive power.

*Tap, pa-ang—!*

But the problem remained.

A glaring, fundamental flaw.

*Crashhh—!*

With a slight flick of the branch, Jin Gayoung’s *Daewol* was deflected, scraping against the ground as she staggered back.

The stone pavement shattered from the impact—proof that her power wasn’t lacking.

Of course, her mastery over *Jincheon Byeokyeomwol* wasn’t the issue either. As Jin Wooyong had acknowledged earlier, her skill with the Moon Art was near flawless.

However.

“There is nothing within your *Jincheon Byeokyeomwol*.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I feel no hostility, no resolve in the *Daewol* you swing at me. Not even the most basic competitive spirit.”

Yes, this was the problem.

The absence of purpose.

And the fundamental doubt in martial arts that stemmed from it.

Without a clear reason to wield the *Daewol*, no will could be imbued within it.

“Ah, how can I feel hostility toward *you*? If it were someone else, I could’ve mustered it, but against you, it’s impossible!”

“That’s not what I mean. What you’re executing is merely *‘Jincheon Byeokyeomwol.’* Nothing more, nothing less. No personal flair, no adaptation—just the art in its purest form.”

“……Eh?”

Jin Gayoung looked puzzled.

Every time I saw that expression, I couldn’t help but find it adorable. It was a rare sight, especially since she was usually busy racking her brain as the head of the Jin Family of Taiyuan.

Of course, I didn’t neglect her training just to see that face.

“You’re only performing the predefined forms of *Jincheon Byeokyeomwol*. While they may be the most efficient movements, they are not *your* martial art.”

“S-So… what should I do?”

“Perform *your* martial art. A *Jincheon Byeokyeomwol* that is uniquely yours, unrivaled under heaven. Finding that will be the first step in laying the foundation of your martial path.”

“My own martial art…? You mean branching two paths from a single art?”

“Let me put it simply. Are the martial arts of Bodhidharma, the founder of Shaolin, and the Divine Monk, one of Shaolin’s greatest grandmasters, the same? Both reached the pinnacle of Shaolin, yet no martial artist in the world would say their techniques were identical.”

“……! Ah, I think I get it!”

Color returned to Jin Gayoung’s face. She had always been quick to grasp things with just a little guidance.

“The *Jincheon Byeokyeomwol* that exists now and *your Jincheon Byeokyeomwol* are different. Find *your* version of it.”

“Hmm… I see. I’ll think about it.”

“One piece of advice—consider the purpose behind learning martial arts. That’s how I first realized my own path.”

“Really? What did you realize?”

“The martial art I realized was the ‘Sovereign’s Sword Form of Protection.’ You don’t need to worry about the more complicated aspects for now. Just focus on that part, and your martial art will naturally progress.”

Jin Gayoung’s fundamentals were nearly flawless.

Her talent aside, she had always trained diligently, even sacrificing sleep, so her mastery of *Jincheon Byeokyeomwol* had already reached a level beyond reproach.

If she could solidify her martial path, she would undoubtedly step into the ranks of the Seven Flowers.

“Yes! I’ll do that!”

*****

Yoo Soeun.

Once the promising Plum Blossom Swordswoman of the Hua Shan Sect and the treasured daughter of the Lone Sword Saint, Gojun Dokgogupae.

Now, at thirty-four, she was just a lonely woman without a husband, spending her nights alone.

“Mmm…….”

As usual, Yoo Soeun squirmed on her bed, wearing nothing but her undergarments.

Her sensual body glistened with sweat, soaking the bed beneath her, but she had no mind to care about that.

Even though she knew she shouldn’t, memories of nights with her ex-husband kept surfacing.

“Ah…….”

To be precise, it was barely even a memory.

Yoo Soeun had only been intimate with the Sword Saint, Namgung Cheolbin, twice.

And since one of those times was before their marriage, they had only truly been together as husband and wife *once*.

Just two days out of thousands in her life—yet she still couldn’t forget those nights.

“Haa…….”

Born as the daughter of the Hua Shan Sect’s leader, Yoo Soeun had lived a life of privilege from the start.

Moreover, unlike other dissolute Taoists, she had never indulged in lewd books, so her knowledge of intimacy was almost childlike.

For her, the first passionate night with Namgung Cheolbin was an unforgettable experience.

And lately, with her body constantly burning, that memory—her only source of sexual reference—kept flashing before her eyes.

“What is this…….”

Of course, even though she had abandoned her sect and thrown herself into the secular world, a Taoist was still a Taoist.

No matter how much her lower abdomen trembled and ached, she would never stoop to touching herself.

Just as she had always done.

“Haa, haa…….”

Instead, she rubbed her thighs together, trying to suppress and soothe her desires.

*Twitch—*

*Rub, rub—*

Imagining Namgung Cheolbin, who had once filled her belly.

Recalling the pain of her first time, which had felt like her abdomen was being torn apart—only to be wrapped in love and replaced with pleasure by her ex-husband.

“Why… why is this happening… again and again…….”

She hated Namgung Cheolbin.

Even if she ignored everything else, she loathed him for abandoning her and chasing after another woman.

That’s why she had agreed to banish him from the Namgung Family.

She couldn’t stand being with a husband who didn’t love her for even a second longer.

But even then, and even now, a sliver of lingering attachment remained.

Of course it did. Namgung Cheolbin was the man who had taken her body and heart completely.

Humans aren’t one-dimensional—it’s impossible for the heart to lean entirely in one direction.

For that reason, deep in Yoo Soeun’s heart, a thought unbecoming of a righteous person quietly resided.

As a woman.

Even if he were a man-eating demon, she wished he would just love her and look at her.

But that was an impossible dream. Their relationship had long since ended, and Yoo Soeun knew that.

“Hng…….”

So, this was inevitable.

Squirming under the sheets, her sweaty thighs rubbing together as she imagined him—it was all because he had left her without a second glance.

At least, that’s what Yoo Soeun told herself.

If she didn’t console herself this way, the thought of her—a woman who had been abandoned and still yearned for him, making him the subject of her filthy fantasies—would be too disgusting to bear.

“Hng…….”

Little by little, the bed began to be soaked not with sweat but with tears.

“Huu… hk.”

Her standing in the Namgung Family, which had shriveled like a ghost the moment Namgung Cheolbin disappeared.

Because of that, her current situation—forced to endure scornful gazes from sects she once looked down upon, even having to return tribute.

And finally, herself—the pathetic woman who still missed Namgung Cheolbin, the root of all her misery.

“Huuu… Stupid… stupid bitch……!”

The self-loathing became unbearable.

She was furious at her lower abdomen, which continued to tingle shamelessly despite everything.

But what could she do?

The only thing Yoo Soeun could do was wipe her tears with both hands and rub her thighs together.

*Knock, knock—*

The sudden sound of knocking made Yoo Soeun hurriedly wipe her face on the pillow before covering the tear stains with it.

A moment later, her daughter, Namgung Sua, quietly opened the door and entered.

“Su-a… What brings you here today…?”

Since Namgung Sua had recently been insisting on sleeping with her every night, Yoo Soeun asked cautiously.

“I wanna sleep with Mom…….”

“T-Today too…?”

“…Yeah, today too.”

“O-Okay… Come here.”

Yoo Soeun lifted the blanket covering her.

Namgung Sua had brought only her own pillow.

“Hehe.”

“Mmm… Just sleep today, okay…? Mom’s been really tired lately…….”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll fall asleep right away.”

Soon, Namgung Sua slipped under the blanket, filled with stifling heat.

“Mmm…….”

“Haaam— I’m sleepy….”

Yoo Soeun hugged her daughter tightly, just like always, and tried to sleep.

*Inhale… exhale—*

“…….”

“……I… can’t remember……”

“…….”

“…The times when Dad and Mom… and I were all happy together… I can’t remember anymore……”

Though, once again, she couldn’t sleep because Namgung Sua buried her face between her breasts and sobbed about Namgung Cheolbin.

*****

Meanwhile, in the dead of night when everyone was either asleep or trying to sleep—

There was one green-eyed girl who remained awake.

“Damn, I don’t get it. Should I try rebuilding the family? Where do I even start?”

It was Dang Sobak, the Poisonous Flower of the Sichuan Tang Family, who was observing the celestial signs as usual.

Her green eyes, fixed on the sky as always, spun sharply, filled with intense curiosity.

“Namgung Family Head, Namgung Bin.”

Within them burned a voracious inquisitiveness.

“Why is there no star for this man?”

Her fingers pointed here and there across the night sky.

“That one in the east is definitely the Sword Saint Namgung Cheolbin’s star, and that one in the south is the Flying Flower Namgung Soso’s star.”

But unlike her moving fingers, her gaze remained fixed on one empty spot in the sky.

A void where no star shone.

“Why doesn’t Namgung Bin have a star? Is he such a nobody that he couldn’t even earn one?”

Of course, that couldn’t be true.

Even if Namgung Bin hadn’t been the one to frame the Sword Saint and bring about his downfall, he was still a war hero who had achieved countless feats as the strategist of the Martial Alliance.

Moreover, despite his diminished status, he was still the head of the Great Namgung Family—the foremost noble family in the world.

To say he was so insignificant as to lack even a single star was absurd.

“Then does it mean Namgung Bin is dead, and his star has fallen…? What’s going on…?”

As always, her thoughts spiraled endlessly as she agonized over the mystery.

She loved this.

Because it was something she didn’t know. Something she couldn’t understand.

Because there was joy in solving it. Joy in uncovering the truth.

So she immersed herself.

Unaware of time passing, she constructed and discarded dozens, hundreds of hypotheses, painting across the canvas of her mind.

She only noticed the blood spreading across that canvas when it had already been half a *gak* (一刻, ~15 minutes) since blood began trickling from her nose.

*Drip—*

“……!”

A sudden wave of dizziness forced Dang Sobak to quickly bow her head and pinch her nose shut.

Then, faintly, she heard a voice—one she shouldn’t have been able to hear.

*—…bak.*

*Dang Sobak.*

*Dang So….*

“Wait…! Just a second!”

She hastily raised a hand to silence the voice.

“Dammit! Shit…! Is my lifespan already up?”

Slowly straightening, she let out a hollow laugh.

Her nose stung, but there was nothing she could do. Right now, she had to deal with the messenger from the underworld who had come for her.

“I learned martial arts just to read the celestial signs a bit longer… Fuck, was this the limit for a Peak Master? I haven’t even read a fraction of the heavenly secrets, and my lifespan’s already running out? Cheap bastards…!”

Muttering angrily, Dang Sobak’s eyes gleamed as she turned her gaze toward the reaper who had come to collect her.

Though invisible to her living eyes, she could sense its presence nearby.

“Messenger!”

In that brief, urgent moment, relying on her confidence in her own skill—the best when it came to calculations—she made her move.

“Let’s make a bet.”

Dang Sobak proposed a wager to the reaper—one that could extend her lifespan.

She feigned calmness, hiding the pounding of her heart like a mouse that had just spotted a cat.

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