Chapter 3: The New Instructor of Dongcheon Hall (3)

He dreamt.

A terrible dream.

Beneath a blood-soaked sky, a mountain of corpses rose, a grotesque testament to a brutal battle.

Broken limbs and severed heads lay scattered amidst the carnage, a gruesome mosaic of death.

At the foot of this macabre peak flowed a river of blood, its crimson currents reflecting the dying light of the setting sun.

A veritable sea of corpses and blood.

And standing atop this gruesome throne, only two figures remained.

No, soon there would only be one.

The woman cradled in the man’s arms was fading fast, her lifeblood seeping away with each labored breath.

Clad in crimson armor stained a deeper shade of red, the man looked down at the woman in his arms, his voice a low growl.

“Why did you save me?”

The woman didn’t answer, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Finally, she managed a whisper, her voice barely audible.

“So… you finally… see me…”

“Answer me. Why did you save me?”

He needed to know.

She was his sworn enemy, the nemesis he had vowed to defeat.

Their final confrontation should have ended with his death.

Betrayed by those he trusted, overwhelmed by enemies, he had accepted his fate.

But then she intervened, his sworn enemy, fighting tooth and nail to protect him, sacrificing herself to ensure his survival.

“Why am I still alive?!” he roared, his voice thick with anguish and confusion.

He should be dead.

He wanted to be dead.

Betrayed by those he had dedicated his life to protect, he saw no point in clinging to this world.

He longed for the sweet release of death, to join the countless souls littering the battlefield.

“Why did you save me?!”

His voice, raw with pain and despair, echoed across the desolate landscape.

Waves of his despair rippled outwards, flattening the tall grass in their wake.

As if awakened by his anguish, the woman stirred in his arms.

Her cold, bloodless hand reached up to caress his cheek.

“Don’t cry…”

Her touch, cold as death itself, brought him back from the brink.

He realized then that he was crying.

“Am I… crying?”

Tears, hot and unwelcome, streamed down his face, tears he thought had long since dried up.

Her hand lingered on his cheek for a moment before sliding up to cup his face.

“You weren’t wrong,” she whispered, her voice fading with every word.

“I… I…”

“Think of it as a bad dream,” she said, mustering a weak smile. “A terrible, painful dream.”

“No! Don’t you dare! Keep breathing! Fight it!”

“If our time together meant anything…”

Her smile widened, a bittersweet expression that tore at his heart.

With her dying breath, she spoke one last time.

“Find me again… at the end of this nightmare…”

The mountain of corpses trembled, a low rumble that echoed across the blood-soaked earth.

Beyond the carnage, a forest of banners rose, their colors obscured by a thick cloud of dust.

“Noooooooo!”

The man roared, his voice consumed by rage and grief.

“The Heavenly Destruction Society! I will have my revenge!”

***

“Argh! Damn it!”

Cho Un-hwi woke with a start, disoriented and confused.

He had kicked out in his sleep, his right foot connecting with the wall with a sickening thud.

‘Nice going, genius.’

He had finally managed to get a decent night’s sleep, only to be plagued by nightmares and sleep-talking.

Crack.

He pulled his foot back, wincing as a chunk of the wall crumbled away.

“Oh, crap.”

He scrambled back, pressing himself against the opposite wall.

That’s when he noticed her.

A young woman, her chest tightly bandaged, stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock.

She gaped at him, her face pale and her mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a fish out of water.

Cho Un-hwi raised a hand in greeting, forcing a cheerful smile.

“Well, good morning to you too.”

“Y-you…”

“Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

“Aaaaaaaaaah!”

Her scream echoed through the instructors’ quarters of Dongcheon Hall.

***

As expected, his little stunt didn’t go unnoticed.

“What in the world were you thinking?!”

Chung-hyeon, the Head Instructor, roared, his face an interesting shade of puce.

“Breaking a hole in the wall on your first day? Have you lost your mind?!”

“Well, the wall seemed a bit flimsy…”

“Even at full strength, you shouldn’t have been able to do that!”

Chung-hyeon was fuming.

But Cho Un-hwi stood his ground.

“What can I say? Shoddy construction, I guess! Eh heh!”

“Silence!”

He tried to lighten the mood with a playful wink, but it only seemed to infuriate Chung-hyeon further.

Some habits die hard, it seemed.

Chung-hyeon grabbed a nearby brush and scribbled something on a piece of paper.

“What’s that?”

“What does it look like? It’s your bill, of course!”

“That seems a bit steep, don’t you think?”

“Do you think you can damage Murim Alliance property and get away with a slap on the wrist?”

“What is this wall made of, gold-plated wood? It looked rotten to me.”

“That, my friend, is Ironwood, imported all the way from the Southern Wilds! We don’t build our structures with twigs and mud here!”

Ironwood? Seriously?

Cho Un-hwi’s jaw dropped as he took the bill.

“Thirty… silver taels?!”

That was three months’ worth of his salary!

His face fell.

“And that’s being generous,” Chung-hyeon said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m only charging you for the cost of the wood. I should make you pay for the repairs as well, but I’m feeling merciful since it’s your first day.”

Cho Un-hwi sighed heavily under Chung-hyeon’s menacing glare.

‘Great. Starting off in the red isn’t exactly ideal.’

It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford it, but the thought of his hard-earned (well, technically earned) salary vanishing into thin air was infuriating.

“If you damage anything else, I won’t be so lenient,” Chung-hyeon warned, his eyes narrowed.

Cho Un-hwi slumped, his shoulders heavy with despair.

***

As he trudged away, clutching the bill like a death sentence, he felt a presence beside him.

“I-I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault for making so much noise.”

It was the female instructor from next door.

She was in her early twenties, with a bright, cheerful demeanor that clashed with his current mood.

Cho Un-hwi snuck a glance at her bandaged chest and thought, ‘Those bandages look pretty sturdy.’

Seemingly oblivious to his gaze, she apologized profusely, her eyes filled with concern.

Cho Un-hwi, his own eyes resembling those of a dead fish, replied, “Are apologies going to fix this mess?”

“I-I’ll help pay for it!”

“All of it?”

“W-well, maybe not all of it, but I can contribute half. I’ll pay you back gradually.”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

Cho Un-hwi couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘She’s way too nice for her own good.’

She was the victim here, the one who had been startled by his wall-breaking antics.

And yet, she was offering to pay for his mistake.

How someone so timid ended up as a martial arts instructor was beyond him.

“Don’t worry about it. It was my fault, so I’ll take care of it.”

“A-are you sure?”

Her face lit up like a puppy receiving a treat.

‘She even looks like a puppy.’

Cho Un-hwi paused, a thought occurring to him.

“By the way, do they not believe in separating the genders here? Why are men and women sharing quarters?”

“Well, this is Dongcheon Hall.”

“It’s different elsewhere?”

“Even in Euncheon Hall, there are separate floors for men and women. In Geumcheon Hall, they have separate buildings altogether. And I heard the instructors in Shincheon Hall get their own private residences.”

So, the rumors about Dongcheon Hall being the dumping ground were true. The discrimination was appalling.

He understood that strength was paramount in the Murim world, but this was ridiculous.

Damn this strength-obsessed society.

“Anyway, sorry for the late introduction. I’m Cho Un-hwi.”

“I’m Yeo Mae-hong. Pleased to meet you.”

As they exchanged greetings, Yeom-gwang and a group of instructors approached them.

“Instructor Yeo, you might want to reconsider associating with him.”

“Heh heh.”

Yeom-gwang leered at Cho Un-hwi, his eyes filled with malice.

“There’s always one, isn’t there? Causing a scene, desperate for attention.”

“I told you, the wall was weak.”

“Heh heh, right. And I suppose the sky is green. Ironwood, weak? You’re hilarious.”

Yeom-gwang dismissed Cho Un-hwi with a wave of his hand and slung an arm around Yeo Mae-hong’s shoulders.

“Never mind him. How about you and I grab some lunch? Maybe have a little midday drink, get to know each other better.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t be so uptight. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“I’m on duty.”

“Tsk, tsk. You know what they say, birds of a feather flock together. Don’t lower yourself to his level by associating with an attention-seeker like him.”

Yeom-gwang’s gaze lingered on Yeo Mae-hong’s chest, making her visibly uncomfortable.

She subtly shifted away from him, her voice firm as she reiterated, “I’m really fine.”

“Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to force you.”

Yeom-gwang stepped back, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding instructors.

“Anyone else up for a drink?”

Several instructors eagerly joined him, forming a human wall between him and Cho Un-hwi.

“Haha, is Chief Instructor Yeom treating us?”

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Heh heh, mind if I tag along?”

As the group shuffled away, Cho Un-hwi turned to Yeo Mae-hong.

“They drink at this hour?”

“It’s not uncommon. The students in Dongcheon Hall aren’t exactly known for their dedication to martial arts. Group training sessions are often canceled.”

“Sounds like a complete mess.”

“The students who are serious about their training usually seek private instruction from other instructors or even hire outside experts. They prefer personalized training.”

“Then why bother joining the academy at all?”

“It’s all about networking. There’s no better place to build connections than the Shinmu Academy.”

“This place is unbelievable.”

He had heard rumors, but the reality was far more absurd than he could have imagined.

“This is nothing like what I expected. The so-called cradle of the righteous Murim is more like a rotten tree trunk.”

“That’s Dongcheon Hall for you.”

“It seems like it’ll take a lifetime to understand this place. Say, how about we grab some lunch? My treat.”

“Are you sure? The food here is free, but…”

“I insist. Let’s go.”

Cho Un-hwi strode towards the mess hall, leaving a bewildered Yeo Mae-hong in his wake.

‘He’s an interesting one, that’s for sure.’

Most of the instructors in Dongcheon Hall were overbearing and pretentious, constantly trying to one-up each other and inflate their accomplishments.

This new instructor, however, was refreshingly different.

‘He’s quite amusing.’

Despite his unkempt appearance and cryptic remarks, one thing was certain: Cho Un-hwi was unlike anyone she had ever met.

She had a feeling that her time in Dongcheon Hall was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

“Wait up!” she called out, a spring in her step as she hurried after him.