Book 1 Chapter 11

The Strange End of Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un

On the topmost floor of a magnificently constructed three-story pavilion.

In a quaintly decorated room, a dignified elder with a pure white beard sat, and before him, a middle-aged man, appearing to be in his mid-fifties, stood.

The elder with the pure white beard sat on a throne carved with a dragon ascending to the heavens, exuding a presence that could overwhelm all who beheld him. Despite his advanced age, his vigor, from his white beard reaching his chest, was by no means feigned. From the elder in the red dragon robe seated on the throne, an intense dignity, difficult to describe, flowed through his entire body.

The elder's eyes were deep-set, holding a profound profundity, and his hair, though white, shone with the luster of a young man in his twenties. Furthermore, his face was as full of life as that of a rosy-cheeked boy. There were no age spots or spiderweb-like wrinkles on his face, which were commonly found on elders eroded by time, no matter how hard one looked. This was a testament to the depth of the elder's internal energy and cultivation.

The elder was a person who could evoke an immense sense of presence simply by being nearby. For an ordinary person, simply standing before him would make breathing difficult and their chest feel constricted, making it hard to even stand properly. However, the middle-aged man of enormous build, standing like an unshakeable giant before the elder seated like Mount Tai on the throne, did not seem particularly affected.

The aura of the middle-aged man in black was as formidable as the elder's, equally matched. If the elder in the red dragon robe was Mount Tai, the middle-aged man with his imposing physique and wild, two-pronged black beard was reminiscent of an iron tower, his entire body radiating an unyielding, powerful strength like steel. Moreover, his sharp, tiger-like eyes cast an aura as sharp as a cold blade.

"Please, sit."

"Yes."

When the elder in the red dragon robe invited the middle-aged man to sit, he accepted without refusal and sat beside the elder. This was a clear indication of the middle-aged man's extraordinary status. There were fewer than five individuals in the martial arts world who could sit alongside the elder in the red dragon robe. Furthermore, it could be said that there was only one person who could receive a semi-deferential speech from the elder.

The elder in the red dragon robe, already seated on the throne, asked the burly middle-aged man, who resembled an iron tower standing tall on rough terrain, "Tell me, how is the work progressing? Is it going well?"

Cheon Gwan-ju (Master of Cheongwan), it was indeed Cheon Gwan-ju. While there were many academies and monastic institutions in the martial arts world, there was only one place in the current martial arts world, or even in this world, where its leader was called Cheon Gwan-ju. It was the Cheonmu Academy, the grandest institution of righteous martial arts, boasting the second-highest influence in the world of Wa Ho Jam Ryong.

Among the three great forces constituting the White Dao Martial Arts world, the first was, without a doubt, the Martial Alliance. The second was the Cheonmu Academy. Although it was the second-largest in terms of power and influence, the Cheonmu Academy was considered the foremost in terms of potential. It was a widely known secret that the reason the Martial Alliance surpassed the Cheonmu Academy in influence was that most of its core members were from the Cheonmu Academy. One could easily surmise the significant role the Cheonmu Academy played in the martial arts world.

Indeed, it was clear that this imposing middle-aged man in black, reminiscent of an iron tower, was the master of the renowned Cheonmu Academy. Perhaps because of this, the elder, who held the position of the actual leader of the White Dao Martial Arts world, the leader of the Martial Alliance, had to be polite, as if speaking to someone of equal standing. In fact, the old master with white hair and beard, who seemed to defy time, was the immensely powerful owner of the position of the leader of the "White Dao Jianghu Martial Arts United Alliance," commonly known as the Martial Alliance, the de facto leader of the White Dao Martial Arts world.

"Yes, please do not worry. We have selected the 64 most outstanding children this year and formed four groups of 16 each. The four groups have been named the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Black Tortoise, and Vermilion Bird groups. The Azure Dragon group is scheduled to go to Mount Wudang, the White Tiger group to Mount Tai, the Black Tortoise group to Mount Hua, and the Vermilion Bird group to Mount Emei."

"Hmm, how are the children's abilities? Can we have high expectations?"

"Yes, all 64 are exceptionally talented individuals who achieved the highest scores within the academy for the past year. They have been divided into Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Black Tortoise, and Vermilion Bird groups according to their abilities. The Azure Dragon group has the highest scores, and the Vermilion Bird group has the lowest, but the difference is not that significant. In any case, they are all prodigies who ranked within the top 64 on average within the academy. However…"

"However? Tell me frankly."

"Well, the Vermilion Bird group children are indeed lagging behind. They consist of 12 students ranked 50th or below, so I worry they might feel inferior. There were two students with the same score above 50th place, making it 12 students ranked 50th or below. Almost all of them are the second or third-ranked disciples within their respective sects. Therefore, I am concerned that they might feel more inferior than others. Of course, martial arts skill might not always correlate with ranking."

"That is true. Overall performance is evaluated by a combination of academics, etiquette, theory, and so on, so skill cannot be judged by ranking alone… Hmm, 12 people? But you said there were 16 people in each group earlier."

"Yes. In addition to those 12, we plan to send two from the Nine Dragons Seven Phoenixes, Yi Ryong and Yi Bong, as group leaders to accompany them. That's why there are 16 people. For this intensive training camp, we intend to divide the Nine Dragons Seven Phoenixes into four groups to lead each unit."

"Hmm, sending Yi Ryong and Yi Bong, who are considered the most outstanding among the second-year disciples… It seems like an excellent idea, Master!"

"You flatter me, Leader! They are children who secured a spot among the Nine Dragons Seven Phoenixes by surpassing seniors who are three or four years older. You can trust them."

"I also have high expectations. Especially since the second-year disciples this year possess outstanding skills, enough to earn the title of Nine Dragons Seven Phoenixes by surpassing their seniors. However, who have you chosen to teach those children?"

"Yes, we have asked Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un to teach the Vermilion Bird group."

"Oh, the Great Hero Jin, Cheoldambihwan, whose thrown iron is said to pierce the heavens and whose flying iron tears the sky? Is he still in good health?"

"Yes, he is still well. He claims he is rejuvenating himself. He will be able to guide the children well and impart much knowledge. That is the purpose of the intensive training camp."

"Very well. I trust your decision, Master. By the way, how are things on that side lately?"

The middle-aged man, with the immense status of the master of Cheonmu Academy, momentarily frowned. It was that much of a troublesome matter.

"Are you referring to Mawi Haneul (Sky-Crusher)? Well, they are likely training their own children to counter ours. We don't have detailed information yet, but it seems they are also building considerable strength."

"That would be natural. In any case, please handle this training camp, which is a proud tradition of the academy, with care. These are the most promising junior disciples within the academy. And within this martial arts world as well."

"There is no doubt."

"I will entrust it all to you, Master. It seems it will not be long."

"Hoo, the weather is so hot. My throat is parched, is there a stream or something nearby?"

Even though it wasn't yet past May, the weather was strangely sweltering. The sun shone brilliantly, fiercely heating the earth, and the wind that would have dispelled the heat had vanished without a trace, not blowing even a bit. The only drawback was that it was a clear day with not a single cloud or gust of wind. Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un, climbing the mountain in search of his destination, felt an intense thirst.

'Heh, am I getting old too? To be this tired and thirsty with just this much…'

He considered himself to be at the very top among the hundred great masters of the martial arts world. Although his hair and beard had turned white and he was soon to celebrate his eightieth birthday, it was comical that he, who had reached the pinnacle of martial arts and attained a state of agelessness, felt tired and thirsty from such a short hike. Wasn't this trip also at the earnest request of the Cheonmu Academy, who highly valued his skills? In such a situation, feeling thirsty from a mere hike seemed like nothing but the harmony (or mischief) of nature to Jin Jo-un.

Still, as if the heavens were on Jin Jo-un's side, as he walked along the mountain path lost in thought, he heard the clear and refreshing sound of water from afar. Though it was a faint sound from a considerable distance, beyond a ridge, his ears, which had long been trained to discern sounds, could not be deceived. His hearing, though not as refined as the Thousand Li Hearing Technique, was still far superior to that of an ordinary person. Jin Jo-un immediately began to run up the mountain path like a flying tiger, chasing the sound of water.

The refreshing and strong sound of water grew clearer. It seemed a waterfall was nearby. After running for about an hour, chasing the sound of water, Jin Jo-un found a charming waterfall nestled in a magnificent landscape. The surface of the water, churning with white foam, was surrounded by flat rocks like a folding screen, and the opposite side of the waterfall was also enclosed by a high cliff about three jang (a unit of length) high, creating a breathtaking spectacle. It was not an exaggeration to call it a waterfall trapped within a screen of strange rocks and peculiar formations, which naturally refreshed the viewer's spirit.

Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un slowly approached the waterfall, which boasted a cool and cheerful sound. He did not know what fate awaited him in this waterfall, which he believed would be a refreshing blessing to quench his burning thirst…

"Thwack!"

It happened in an instant. Suddenly, Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un's neck snapped backward, as if looking up at the sky. For a moment, Jin Jo-un's mind reeled, and a swirl of stars danced before his eyes. He was merely rinsing his mouth and filling his belly with the clear, pure stream water, and then scooping the cool water with his hands to wash his face refreshingly. He was not engaging in any polluting activities like urinating or defecating in the water. Yet, such an unbelievable, inexplicable, and uncomforting momentary event occurred to this exemplary and moral person.

Suddenly, something heavy shot out of the water and directly struck the face of Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un, who was washing his face. Was this act of washing hands and face a silent reprimand from the water god for polluting the water? Or was it silent anger? Brilliant sparks flashed before Jin Jo-un's eyes. Simultaneously, his consciousness drifted away. He was overwhelmed by the violent impact, unable to even steady his body.

What shot out of the water like a bolt from the blue and mercilessly smashed Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un's face was a rock the size of a watermelon. The rock, which fiercely struck Jin Jo-un's forehead, shot up about one jang above his face before losing its momentum and precariously stopping in mid-air. Then, abandoning its ascent, the rock naturally began to fall rapidly towards the ground according to the laws of nature. Unfortunately, the planned trajectory of the falling rock was precisely where Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un's face was, tilted backward, staring blankly at the sky, having been forced into that position.

"Crash!"

Once again, the sound of breaking rock was heard. Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un, who had bravely met the watermelon-sized rock with his face, with the rock resting on his face, began to fall backward in an unsightly manner. It was inevitable that the back of Jin Jo-un's head, having lost the strength contest between the rock and his skull, would collide with the ground.

"Thump!"

The moment Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un's head struck the ground, a sharp, piercing, and intense lightning bolt transmitted from the back of his head shook his entire mind white. Along with it, Jin Jo-un let go of the last thread of consciousness he was clinging to and slowly began to be pulled into a deep, abyssal world of darkness.

The round, yet incredibly heavy and hard-looking rock that rolled down from Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un's face rolled back towards the water along the inclined surface and disappeared into the water with a "plop." Now, in a place where only the sound of splashing water could be heard faintly, lay the person once called Jin Jo-un, sprawled out in a cross shape.

One fortunate thing was that Cheoldambihwan Jin Jo-un no longer had to worry about the gaze or evaluation of others. It was a clear May afternoon, when the sun shone warmly on the earth, a cool breeze quietly embraced the green land, and mountain birds sang peacefully within it. This incident occurred in an unnamed valley in a certain mountain.