Chapter v13c2

“Is this the first one?”

“When he asked, I answered in a trembling voice, ‘Y-Yes. T-This is the f-first trial.’ It took all my courage, all my youthful defiance, to answer his question. I was too ashamed to admit that I was the gatekeeper of this first trial.”

The moment he saw him, Jong Kwae began to regret his decision. Before meeting him face-to-face, he had thought the rumors were exaggerated, but now he realized they were understated. Even though he hadn’t made any threatening moves, Jong Kwae felt the presence of death. His heart pounded in his chest, and he struggled to breathe.

A cold breeze brushed past his neck.

“That day, I experienced true terror for the first time in my life. Even if I live to be a hundred, even if I become senile and forget everything, I’ll never forget the fear I felt that day.”

He continued, his voice calm and steady.

“‘How will you entertain me?’

He was as casual as if he were on a stroll. But his voice had a strange power, a power that awakened the primal fear within you. Everyone who heard his voice trembled in fear and anxiety. Some even bowed their heads and pledged their allegiance to him, seeking to escape the fear.

‘The joint conference of the righteous and demonic factions has challenged you to prove your ability to subjugate the entire martial world. This trial is where you prove your lightness techniques.’

A sneer appeared on his lips, then vanished. It was a fleeting moment, but I remember it vividly.

‘Spare me the useless introduction. What’s the main point?’

He was truly insane. It seemed nothing in this world could threaten him. I had to admit that he possessed an overwhelming power that even defied the heavens. But I did my duty.

‘Catch me and jump across that cliff before the sand in this hourglass runs out.’

I took out a small hourglass, no bigger than my thumb. It was my strategy. And as you might have guessed, that cliff is the one you see before you!”

The delegation’s gazes followed Jong Kwae’s finger, towards the chasm at the edge of the cliff, its dark maw gaping open like the entrance to hell. The sound of rushing water from the depths, combined with the cold wind, sounded like a sinister wail escaping from the depths of hell.

Then,

“How boring.”

Bi Ryu-yeon, once again, uttered words that were completely out of sync with the mood. He wasn’t trying to mock Jong Kwae. He genuinely seemed to think so. Everyone groaned inwardly. They had to deal with another one of his thoughtless remarks.

Since the battle at Thunderbolt Valley, Bi Ryu-yeon’s position among them had subtly changed. They tried to deny it, but what they had seen (although they hadn’t seen it clearly), heard (although they hadn’t heard it clearly), and felt (although they couldn’t be sure) was definitely real, not a dream. (Although they still had some doubts.) So, it was difficult to treat him casually.

Two consecutive acts of disrespect! They expected Jong Kwae to explode in anger, but he simply stared at the ground, trembling as if struck by lightning.

His hands gripped his crutches tightly. A weak, strained voice escaped his lips. It was so faint at first that they had to strain their ears to hear it.

“Yes… It was boring. It was a truly boring plan. But no one expected it to be mocked like that… He said the same thing!”

The echo of that mocking laughter from a hundred years ago still rang in his ears.

“‘How boring! I’ll wait until half the sand in that hourglass runs out. Show me what you’ve got. Run as far as you can!’

(TLN: i feel like that blood god is his senior or something xD)

He didn’t even acknowledge my existence. I was nothing more than a plaything to him. I was furious, but I had no power or right to refute him.

When the fateful sand started to fall, I ran with all my might. There was still a considerable distance to the cliff, and he kept his word, remaining motionless. Of course, the hourglass was small, so the time he gave me was ridiculously short.

But I had faith. I leaped with all my might, aiming for the other side of the chasm. Of course, I had no intention of committing suicide. I had a special technique that allowed me to cross the chasm safely. It was a technique only I could perform.

I leaped from the edge of the chasm when the sand in the hourglass was halfway gone. I used my secret technique and safely crossed to the other side, avoiding a fatal fall. And I looked back. At that moment, I was stunned. He was already leaping across the chasm from the other side.

And he crossed the chasm, that seemingly bottomless abyss, with a single leap!”

“T-That’s impossible! How could a human achieve such a feat with flesh and blood!”

They couldn’t bring themselves to say “absolutely impossible,” but Jong Kwae’s story was hard to believe. It defied their common sense.

A self-deprecating smile touched Jong Kwae’s lips.

“Do you still think he’s human?”

He shook his head, denying it completely.

“No, he’s not. If you’ve been thinking of him as a human, you’ll soon realize how wrong you were! And how grave a mistake that was!”

Jong Kwae’s words were filled with conviction.

“If he had been just an extraordinary human, we wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble to hide this story for a hundred years!”

The old man paused for a moment before continuing in a firm voice,

“We weren’t just standing there on the other side, clapping and cheering him on. Of course, we didn’t have time to curse him either. As you know, a proper curse takes time. Instead, we fired countless arrows at him from the crossbows we had prepared. Dozens of steel arrows flew towards him, cutting through the air.

You see, once a person’s body leaves the ground, their movements become restricted, their range of motion limited. We were aiming for that weakness.

But it was all useless against him. He dodged the arrows, which could pierce even iron plates, with impossible movements, deflecting them with his hands, and landed gracefully on the other side of the cliff, as if to show off. And he said,

‘How boring!’

His voice was filled with boredom. And at that moment, our eyes met.”

Jong Kwae paused and looked around at them.

“What do you think I did then?”

The Cheonmu Academy delegation remained silent. Jong Kwae chuckled, his tone self-deprecating.

“I should have run away as fast as I could, like a horse with its tail on fire. That would have been the most sensible and logical choice! But I didn’t. Or rather, I couldn’t. I just stood there, frozen like a statue, my eyes wide open, until he slowly approached and placed his hand on my shoulder. I couldn’t even think of running away. I was paralyzed with fear, I’m ashamed to admit.”

His voice was filled with emotion, as if he were reliving that day from a hundred years ago. His eyes seemed to be fixated on the past, rather than the present.

“When he placed his hand on my shoulder, the last grain of sand fell, and I collapsed to the ground. I knew it was the signal, as we had agreed that the signal would be given when the last grain of sand fell. It was a shameful display. But I had no strength or courage left to stand. But my instincts were still alive. The instinct to survive. I felt an urge to get away from him.”

Jong Kwae continued, his expression grim.

“I scooted backwards, using my hands as feet, dragging my buttocks across the ground. It was an unsightly spectacle, but I didn’t have the luxury to care about such things. Imagine! The man who boasted of having the fastest legs in the land, reduced to using his hands as feet, crawling backwards like a defeated dog, like a worm, trembling in fear, clinging to life! What a sight it must have been! A spectacle worthy of being told and retold!”

He still seemed to be haunted by the terror of that day. The fragments of a memory from over a hundred years ago had become invisible shackles, binding his mind and body.

Perhaps he wanted someone to point at him and laugh. But no one had dared to mock him in the past hundred years.

“What do you think I was thinking when he approached me?”

Silence again… Who could possibly imagine it? The story they were hearing was like a myth, a legend to them.

“I couldn’t think. I just watched him approach, numbly, like a spectator at a play. I couldn’t resist, couldn’t even think of running away. I had no strength in my legs, or even my hands, which were raw and bleeding from crawling. That’s how overwhelming his presence was. He finally stood before me, looking down at me with a bored expression, and said in a flat voice, ‘Is this all? Useless legs!'”

A wave of pain, transcending a hundred years, flashed across Jong Kwae’s aged face. It was perhaps the most painful part of his memory.

“And then the punishment was carried out. A black flash blinded me. A searing pain, a pain that felt like my soul was being ripped apart, struck me like lightning. And… and… I offered him my legs, my eyes wide open, completely helpless.”

Gulp!

The sound of dry throats swallowing seemed to echo louder than thunder. The Cheonmu Academy delegation, their fists clenched unconsciously, listened intently to Jong Kwae’s story. The quiet, but genuine terror in his voice brought the story to life, transporting them back to that place a hundred years ago.

Jong Kwae continued,

“As I lay in a pool of blood, screaming and writhing in pain, he looked down at me with an indifferent expression and said, ‘I’ll take these legs as payment for your arrogance! You’ll never boast of your speed again.'”

His voice trembled even more, as if the icicle of fear, still lodged deep within his heart, hadn’t melted. The despair, terror, and fear he had felt that day were transmitted vividly.

“I had never heard such a cold, terrifying voice. And that day, Sky-Soaring Cloud-Treader Jong Kwae died. All that’s left is an empty shell. How can a Sky-Soaring Cloud-Treader without legs be a Sky-Soaring Cloud-Treader? How can he be called the fastest man in the world! Of course, even if my legs were intact, I would still be a defeated man, unable to claim the title of the fastest man in the world. So, my fate ended with the last grain of sand in that small hourglass. That’s the end of this old man’s pathetic tale.”

Jong Kwae finished his story, his voice filled with bitterness and regret. Even this simple act of recollection seemed to be painful for him.

“…”

Silence swallowed all words.

The delegation, still trapped in the story, remained silent, lost in thought.

“Sigh…”

A deep sigh escaped Jong Kwae’s lips.

“I still haven’t woken up from that nightmare. I’ll probably be trapped in this tower of nightmares, built with black pillars of despair, until his death is confirmed.”

How many years had he endured, burdened by that sigh of despair?

No one but he could answer that question.

**Jump!!!**

“Now you understand why that chasm is called the ‘Heavenly Tribulation Gap’ or the ‘Blood God’s Step’! And you also know what you have to do to pass this trial!”

But contrary to Sky-Soaring Cloud-Treader Jong Kwae’s words, the delegation just stood there, clueless.

“???”

Their faces were filled with question marks, as if they hadn’t understood his words at all.

It seemed like a simple deduction, but it was actually quite difficult. It was beyond their comprehension, and their limited imagination couldn’t grasp it.

Except for one person: Bi Ryu-yeon!

“How interesting.”

Bi Ryu-yeon replied, his face lit up with interest. He was the only one who reacted.

“Oh! Indeed!”

Jong Kwae exclaimed in admiration.

“It seems you understood my words correctly.”

“Of course. You’re simply telling us to jump across that chasm!”

Bi Ryu-yeon said confidently, as if there was no possibility of being wrong.

But Jong Kwae wasn’t the type to be petty and disagree just for the sake of it.

“You’re absolutely right. It’s a shame there’s no prize for the correct answer!”

Bi Ryu-yeon, praised by Jong Kwae, shrugged smugly.

“Just one?”

Bi Ryu-yeon raised his index finger. Jong Kwae nodded.

“Just one!”

He agreed readily. The two of them seemed to be in their own world.

“W-What are you talking about?”

Namgung Sang asked, his face blank, unable to understand no matter how hard he tried. Although he was prepared for some sort of punishment, Bi Ryu-yeon, surprisingly, answered kindly, even adding a bright smile.

“It means you have to jump across that chasm, the one called the ‘Blood God’s Step’!”

It was a clear and concise explanation.

“What? M-Me?”

Namgung Sang pointed at himself, as if he were about to poke his own chin. He couldn’t understand why his name was being mentioned. Judging from his expression, which utilized every muscle in his face, he was clearly thinking, “Please tell me you’re joking!” But Bi Ryu-yeon’s response was cold and swift.

“Yes!”

Whoosh!

As if he were contaminated, his friends instantly moved a zhang away from him. They clearly didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire.

Wasn’t justice a noble and pure spirit that corrected wrongs, protected the weak, resisted injustice, and never forced its will upon others?

Today, Namgung Sang witnessed the fall of justice. That’s not what he had been taught as a child! Why was reality so different?

He despaired. There was no one to support him.

It was as if they had all agreed that one sacrificial lamb was enough, and they didn’t need to be implicated.

With tears of betrayal streaming down his face, he desperately searched for Jin-ryeong, his only pillar of support, but she was nowhere to be found.

‘Traitors!’

Namgung Sang, feeling the emptiness of their long-standing friendship, watched as their camaraderie crumbled like dust in the wind. He felt a surge of sadness and betrayal, tears threatening to spill over.

But he couldn’t give up.

“Shouldn’t we ask the elders? Senior Brother can’t decide such an important matter on his own…”

But he immediately regretted his words.

“One takes on the color of one’s company!”

Birds of a feather flock together, and crabs stick together.

Yeomdo patted Namgung Sang’s shoulder and said,

“Do your best! Don’t disappoint me! Or you’re dead!”

Dead? But if he disappointed Yeomdo, he would probably be dead already.

“I’m counting on you!”

Binggeom’s face was expressionless, his emotions hidden.

Why wasn’t anyone objecting? He looked around for a savior, but there was no one.

The fatal decision was final.

‘Am I going to be killed?’

Why him again? He couldn’t ignore it. It was suspicious. He couldn’t overlook the stench of conspiracy.

Of course, it could be just his paranoia, but the circumstances supported his suspicions.

He had been chosen again. Could he really cross to the other side alive with his current skill? He shook his head. He wasn’t foolish enough to overestimate his abilities. The future was bleak.

He hadn’t even proposed to Jin-ryeong yet… He hadn’t even experienced their wedding night… It was too cruel to die with so much life ahead of him.

He had a hunch.

Was it because of his nickname? He recalled the incident with the Flying Thunder Twin Demons at Thunderbolt Valley. Oh right! They weren’t the Flying Thunder Twin Demons anymore, were they? They had lost their names that day. They had barely survived, but they had lost their honor and reputation.

He was sure that Senior Brother had a problem with his nickname, even though he never said it out loud. It explained all the countless times he had been picked on.

‘Thunderbolt Sword Dragon!’

He had always thought it was an extravagant nickname, but he never imagined it would come back to bite him like this. To think he would be killed because of it…

It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Had he been too greedy? He shouldn’t have been so happy about receiving a name that was beyond his station.

He finally snapped out of his self-pity and looked up at the other side of the chasm. But his eyes, devoid of hope, saw no sign of life.

He found himself standing alone in a field of tall grass. The others were sitting some distance away, watching him with amusement. His friends were cheering him on from afar. It was a touching display of friendship, almost tear-jerking.

Some of them were even betting on whether he would succeed or fail. And at the center of it all was, of course, Senior Brother Bi Ryu-yeon. He wondered which side Bi Ryu-yeon had bet on. He was sure it was his failure. He was being petty, but with death looming, he couldn’t help it.

The other side of the chasm was a barren cliff, devoid of any vegetation.

He had to tilt his head back to see the edge of the cliff. It was about seven or eight zhang higher than their side. In other words, even though the chasm was about twenty zhang (66.6 meters) wide, he had to jump a much greater distance to reach the other side.

‘Damn, it’s far!’

Despair filled the void where hope had withered.

“Is there… a platform or something?”

He asked, his voice small, intimidated by the vastness of nature.

“Don’t worry! There are no such conveniences here!”

A firm answer came back.

Namgung Sang’s face fell.

“Y-You’re telling me to jump across that chasm with nothing but my bare hands? I might enjoy a good joke, but I’m not trying to make people laugh with such an absurd request.”

“Joke? Are you delusional? It’s not a joke! Don’t worry! If there’s no path, you just have to create one!”

He still couldn’t accept the reality before him. He protested again.

“Really? We have to actually jump?”

“What’s wrong with that? Why are you asking such obvious questions? Honestly, some people even suggested installing crossbow launchers to recreate the situation from a hundred years ago. They wanted to fire them at the challenger the moment he jumped! But… the proposal was rejected! It was a shame. They decided it was too much!”

They all stared at Jong Kwae, who spoke of such a terrifying thing as if it were nothing.

‘Too much? This is already too much!’ Namgung Sang wanted to shout, but he managed to restrain himself.

“What’s the problem? Only one person needs to cross. How easy is that? Of course, you can’t use ropes or get help from others. But other than that, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

When Namgung Sang remained silent, Jong Kwae continued,

“The youngsters from the other group have already crossed. So, it’s not impossible.”

Namgung Sang’s eyes, along with those of the entire Cheonmu Academy delegation, widened in shock. “Why didn’t you tell us such an important fact earlier!” They wanted to shout, but it took all their willpower to suppress the urge.

“T-Then the Demonic Heaven Pavilion delegation arrived before us?”

Namgung Sang asked, his face pale.

“That’s right. They arrived first and crossed first. What are you waiting for? Do you plan to spend the night here, exposed to the night dew? It gets very cold in the mountains at night.”