A Complete Awakening

“Yun-seon! Do-pyeong!”

Hyeongjin shouted their names until his throat burned, but only echoes came back.

‘It seems… it’s already too late.’

The Taiyi Divine Sect had ambushed them, and if only those two were left, the outcome was obvious. Yet the faint hope they had escaped was fading.

Ju-un’s chest felt ready to burst from guilt for leaving Yun-seon alone. Though her motives hadn’t been pure, her vow to protect him had been real. Never having cared for anyone but her master, she now faced unbearable grief for the first time.

“If we go a little further up, that’s where the ambush happened.”

Ju-un turned blankly toward where Hyeongjin pointed. In an instant, the worst possible image crossed her mind.

“I won’t go.”

“What?”

Ju-un slapped his arm down with a resolute face. As long as she didn’t confirm, Yun-seon might still be alive somewhere. She refused to face her darkest fear.

“Sajeo, we can’t know without checking. Their martial arts aren’t strong, but they’re clever. They might have found a way.”

Reading her face, Hyeongjin calmly tried to persuade her. He wasn’t optimistic either, but at least wanted to recover the body if the worst had happened.

“Eldest Sahyung!”

Hyeongjin’s eyes widened at the familiar voice.

“Do-pyeong!”

The limping figure was indeed Kwak Do-pyeong. Overcome with relief, Hyeongjin burst into tears.

“Where’s Yun-seon? Where is he?”

For a moment, Ju-un had hope—but seeing Do-pyeong alone, she snapped, seizing his shoulder with all her strength.

“Argh!”

“Do-pyeong, what’s wrong?”

At his cry, Hyeongjin pulled her off. Blood seeped thickly from the arm she had gripped.

“You’re injured?”

Do-pyeong nodded pitifully, shrinking under Ju-un’s murderous glare. Haltingly, he began to tell his tale.

“Most followed Eldest Sahyung, but a few demons saw our weakness and attacked. I desperately shielded Yun-seon, but couldn’t win. His seizure returned—he looked about to die. So I had no choice…”

Hyeongjin couldn’t scold him. The deep gash in his arm proved he’d tried to save Yun-seon. If anyone deserved blame, it was Hyeongjin for leaving them.

“Did you… see him dead?”

Ju-un’s eyes were bloodshot, her lips trembling. In four years, Hyeongjin had never seen her wear her heart so raw.

“Sajeo…”

He reached to comfort her, but she jerked away before he touched her.

“I did not see the body.”

Afraid she’d attack him, Do-pyeong raised his hands defensively as he spoke.

“Lead the way!”

“What?”

Ju-un grabbed his shoulder and hurled him forward. Hyeongjin had no time to stop her—he tumbled across the ground.

“Lead us back to where you abandoned Yun-seon.”

She had avoided confirmation before, but not now. Until she saw his corpse herself, she would not believe it.

‘That boy—so tenacious—he wouldn’t die so easily.’

As Ju-un drew her sword, Do-pyeong had no choice but to lead them back, his arm throbbing from her grip.

‘I shouldn’t have cut myself so deep.’

When he heard Eldest Sahyung calling, Do-pyeong glanced at his arm. To sell his story of fleeing battle, he needed a wound. Just before rejoining them, he had shut his eyes and gashed himself.

‘That woman will suspect me. What do I do?’

Even as he led them, Do-pyeong plotted how to survive this crisis. He felt some guilt at the thought of Yun-seon’s mangled body, but feared Ju-un blaming him more.

“Huh?”

Do-pyeong froze. The field that should have been littered with corpses showed no trace of battle—only blood on the grass proved it was the place.

“This is the place…”

Hyeongjin was equally unsettled—he himself had slain half a dozen. Even if Yun-seon had survived, where were the bodies?

“He’s not dead yet…”

Ju-un pounded her chest, muttering. Hope still remained. But with his condition, they had to find him fast.

“They ambushed you, didn’t they?”

Ju-un asked Hyeongjin, who still stared blankly at Do-pyeong.

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that strange?”

“What?”

“I passed this path too, yet was not attacked. That means the ambush had a clear purpose—they knew the Emptiness Dhuta Sect would pass here.”

She cupped her chin, pondering. They had known Emptiness Dhuta would pass. Without an informant, how could they time it so perfectly?

“Now that you mention it…”

Do-pyeong smacked his knee and exclaimed to Hyeongjin.

“Wasn’t that inn strange? An inn here, in the mountains? And the innkeeper and servant didn’t act like they wanted to run a business.”

Hyeongjin nodded gravely—he had a point. Ju-un agreed too.

“Let’s return there.”

All three broke into a run toward the inn.

As Yun-seon practiced the first verse of stage two, the pain eased as if by magic. His gasping breath steadied. Right Shadow too looked calmer, his seated posture more at ease.

“As I thought…”

But Right Shadow stopped him from reciting the second verse.

“No use reading further.”

“What?”

Hadn’t he begged for the formula moments ago? Yun-seon was baffled by his sudden change.

“Beyond that, I know nothing.”

Right Shadow sighed deeply. Even as he longed for the scripture, he had always feared he might never be able to cultivate it.

“Who helped you train the first stage?”

He asked in a strangely calm, almost tearful voice.

“The Taiyi Divine Art cannot be self-taught. You had no inner training before—who taught you?”

Yun-seon almost blurted Jeok-woo’s name but caught himself, covering his mouth. They had once shared a sect—revealing him would harm, not help, him.

“What does it matter who? And you’re a Taiyi disciple—you should know how to interpret the formula. Why hesitate?”

At Yun-seon’s question, Right Shadow laughed with his strange, eerie sound.

“The Master didn’t teach the Divine Art to all seven disciples. Only Seomun, Jeok-woo, and my brother received instruction.”

Speaking of his brother hurt his chest. Left Shadow had been his only family, his whole world.

“Only my brother had the talent for stage two, yet the Sect Leader withheld it. He always warned of the Art’s danger—never cultivate if the body falters. My brother hated that.”

Left Shadow became obsessed with its power. Sect Leader Seong Gon, sensing his ambition, halted his teaching at the threshold of stage two.

Frustrated, Left Shadow finally broke the Sect’s rules and secretly touched the secret manual.

“Cast out, empty-handed, we did anything to survive the harsh kangho. That’s how the Black Butterfly Shadows was born.”

Left Shadow had hesitated, but had to teach his brother. The Black Butterfly Shadows was an assassin band, and Right Shadow was too weak without it. Fortunately, Right Shadow progressed quickly.

“Brother, my body keeps swinging cold and hot. It torments me.”

“What?”

Left Shadow’s vision darkened. Those were signs of qi deviation. He himself, though gifted and carefully guided, had needed five years to reach that stage. For Right Shadow to force it in under a year—it was bound to backfire.

“There were only two remedies: see Master to advance safely, or find the manual.”

Right Shadow’s eyes reddened, tears falling.

“My brother learned that the Commentary on the Saṃdhinirmocana Sūtra that the Sword God held was truly the Taiyi Divine Art. He planned to steal again—all because of me.”

Yun-seon remembered Left Shadow’s mad charge after Jong-yeon cut down Right Shadow. That fiend had still cherished his brother—enough to burn the image in Yun-seon’s mind.

“So I only understood the first part my brother taught me. Hearing you read on, I see— even had we gained the scripture, it was useless. It was my fate… but I lost my brother.”

With that, Right Shadow broke down, wailing, clawing his chest—a pitiful sight beyond words.

“How shameless.”

Yun-seon rose, standing before him, Right Shadow’s dagger now in his hand, its tip at his throat.

“Did you think I’d weep at your brother’s sacrifice? For that alone you butchered my master, my brothers—my family?”

Tears fell from Yun-seon’s eyes too. He didn’t even know why—rage, grief, or hollow despair.

“Your master would’ve died anyway. That fiend half-killed the Sword God himself, then pinned it on us. We learned too late. My brother gave his life—this worthless life of mine—because he was tricked!”

Right Shadow clutched his leg, sobbing. Blood welled where the blade pricked his neck, but he didn’t care—he just wanted the truth heard.

“Then who? Who is this great villain? Tell me!”

Thud!

Clatter.

A stone flew from nowhere, striking Yun-seon’s Wind Palace¹ acupoint. He collapsed atop Right Shadow. Right Shadow laid him down, shaking him—but he was unconscious.

“So here you are.”

From the voice alone, Right Shadow knew who had thrown it. The one he revered most—and feared most. His nightmare stood before him.

“S-Sect Leader…”

오철 (悟徹), A Complete Awakening:
To become thoroughly enlightened.