Episode 11: The Second Disciple
*
I had spoken to Estelle as if I were familiar with travel, but the truth was, I had never traveled before.
Having lost both parents at a young age, I had to work to survive—life was too harsh, too relentless, to even consider something as leisurely as travel.
Every spare coin went to food and games—though even then, I couldn’t afford expensive meals or in-game purchases. Every bit of savings had to be invested in the future.
As I thought about travel, a long-forgotten memory surfaced.
“Ah… Soeun wanted to travel together.”
We had promised—after graduating university, once I had stabilized my life, once we had breathing room—we would go on a trip together.
For someone like me, who had never dared to dream, it was the first humble wish I had ever allowed myself.
Just imagining it—traveling with Soeun—had been enough to bring me joy. Even the preparations had been a kind of happiness.
“But now, that’s a promise I can never keep.”
Before we could fulfill it, before we could chase that simple dream, we fell into the Tutorial. The dream was forgotten, buried under the desperation to grow stronger.
And now, though Soeun wasn’t by my side, I could at least fulfill a small part of that wish.
“Shall I go?”
My feet carried me forward into a wider world.
At first, I simply walked without direction.
The world of the Tutorial was far vaster than I had imagined. The fields and lodgings I had known were but a tiny fraction of it.
More nature, more people—each desperately training, honing themselves for their own purposes. Their lives burned with fierce determination.
In one place, martial artists refined their techniques. In another, mages studied arcane arts. Elsewhere, priests deepened their faith.
All paths I had walked before. And so, I offered light advice where I could.
“That’s not how you do it. Try it like this—it’ll work better.”
“Huh? You’re right! Thanks!”
Being an All-Master, I could assist anyone, no matter what skill they practiced. There were no wrong paths, but there were mistaken ones.
For every person I met, I corrected flaws that might have led to regret later. If they reached greater heights, they’d thank me someday.
The Tutorial hid many strong individuals. None surpassed me, but their techniques offered valuable insights—things I could integrate into my Heaven-Shattering Dance.
“This alone makes the journey worthwhile.”
I absorbed the world around me—nature, lessons, sparring experiences. These were treasures I could never have gained from life-or-death battles alone.
With each passing day, the microcosm within my dantian grew richer. The more I understood people’s lives, the deeper my comprehension of life itself became—and with it, my Innate Qi expanded.
“I really did live in a small world.”
Like a frog in a well mistaking its prison for the entire world, I, too, had been trapped in narrow confines.
But no—
The world was this vast.
And yet, I had lived in such a small corner of it.
Now, my world had expanded just as much. Estelle must have wanted me to realize this—that I was someone who could grow even larger.
As I reflected on this newfound understanding, an urgent sound reached my ears.
“Haah… Haah… Help…”
Since acquiring my Limit Break skill, my sensory range had expanded dramatically. Even from a distance, I could detect faint vibrations—like this plea for aid.
“No monster presence… Is she injured?”
I sprinted toward the voice at full speed. The footwork I’d honed while fleeing Estelle allowed me to cover the distance in moments.
“A woman?”
Before me lay a woman whose delicate, icy features contrasted with her blazing crimson eyes—not cold like frost, but flickering like an unquenchable flame.
A look of someone clinging desperately to life.
“Are you alright?”
I shook her shoulder lightly, but she was unconscious, her body as cold as glacial ice. I had never felt a human so frigid.
“Can a person even be this cold?”
“Excuse me for a moment.”
No response. An emergency. Channeling a wisp of energy into her wrist, I probed her condition. My medical training as an All-Master let me diagnose the issue instantly.
“Nine severed meridians… and an endless flow of Yin cold energy leaking from them.”
I recognized this from martial arts lore.
“Nine Yin Severed Meridians.”
A cursed condition—granting immense talent in exchange for a body wracked by unending cold, weakness, and a shortened lifespan.
“Treatable, but not immediately…”
For now, I set up my [Very Sturdy and Comfortable Tent (Rare)], laying her inside. The comfort enchantments eased her expression slightly.
Then, I took her hand, circulating a trickle of energy to push the cold out—temporarily. The moment I let go, the chill would return, but for now, she could rest.
As the invasive cold receded, her eyes fluttered open.
“Huh…? Wh-Who…?”
Naturally, she panicked upon seeing a stranger. I’d have reacted the same.
“You collapsed. I temporarily suppressed the cold, but it’s not permanent. If my holding your hand bothers you, I can—”
“Don’t let go!”
Before I could finish, she clutched my hand desperately. Her fingers were icy, but her grip burned with raw need.
In that moment, I understood—her loneliness, her suffering.
“You’ve been through a lot.”
She nodded repeatedly, as if starved for someone to listen.
“Yes… It was so cold I could barely move. I’ve always needed others to survive.”
As I traveled, I’d grown fond of hearing people’s stories. They expanded my world.
“I’ve been cold since birth. Endless frost leaking from my body. My parents feared me—called me possessed.”
“That’s… harsh.”
Maybe because the cold had receded, maybe because she’d been desperate to confide in someone—she told me everything.
“Everyone hated me. The whole world rejected me. My existence was a burden.”
Then, she mentioned an older sister.
“When I wanted to give up and die… I met her. My parents hid me, but my sister—curious—found out.”
I understood. Someone had pulled me out of my isolation too.
“She was a prodigy—beautiful, talented, brilliant. And I… was just slowly dying.”
*
I knew someone like that too. Someone who outshone me in every way, glowing brilliantly.
“People praised my sister endlessly. Meanwhile, I just wanted to disappear quietly. My family was strict—a ‘defective’ like me should’ve been cast out long ago. But my sister stopped them.”
I had no parents to love me. For me, there was only Yoo Soeun. For her, it was the same—no parental love, just an older sister standing by her side.
“She told them, ‘If you abandon her, I won’t stay silent.’ She shielded me from the elders. She was… radiant. The kind of person who could put others at ease just by being near. And yet, I had nothing to give her in return.”
I knew someone like that too. Someone dazzling, someone who made me feel at ease just by existing.
“And yet, I had nothing to offer.”
“Do you know what I thought in those moments?”
I knew exactly how she felt. No one understood the thoughts of a firefly beside the sun better than I did.
“‘Why was I born like this? Why am I so… inadequate? Why do I resent the person I love most?’ I even told her, ‘Just leave me alone.’ I wanted to prove I could handle things myself.”
“This… is me.”
I knew someone like that too.
Someone who, despite their endless concern, I’d pushed away with words like, “Who asked for your help?” or “Stop making me feel pathetic!”
I had envied someone precious to me. So had she.
I had rejected helping hands. So had she.
I had wanted to prove myself. So had she.
“Ah… Why am I like this? You’re the first person who’s ever listened to me ramble like this. You probably don’t understand, so just forget it.”
She and I were too alike.
No—we were nearly identical.
“I understand.”
“Huh?”
Her expression froze.
“I know exactly how it feels.”
I decided to reach out to her. Just as someone had once pulled me up, now it was my turn to extend a hand.
If there was anyone in this world who could understand her, it was me. So, just as she had shared her story, I shared mine—mundane Earth memories, Tutorial struggles. I didn’t tell her everything, but she listened intently, piecing together enough to truly see me.
“We’re… alike, aren’t we?”
She said it carefully, as if stunned to finally meet someone who understood her wounds.
“Yeah.”
I nodded. We really were.
“We haven’t even introduced ourselves. I’m Baek Ryeon.”
“Baek Ryeon?”
The name triggered a memory.
— “Baek Ryeon. That’s my sister’s name. She hates me, so if you help her, don’t mention me.”
Now that I looked, Ryeon shared her sister’s pale hair and delicate features—though her eyes were crimson, unlike Baek Ran’s icy blue. She was also slimmer, shorter (around 165 cm compared to Ran’s 175 cm).
“Is… something wrong?”
Noticing my pause, she tensed.
“No. Your name just sounded familiar. I’m Han Yeomyeong. Nice to meet you.”
No handshake was needed—we were already holding hands.
“I checked your condition earlier. I think… I can treat you.”
Her eyes widened.
“Really?”
“Yes. I can’t eliminate the cold completely, but I can restore you to a normal human’s tolerance. Though… there are conditions.”
She clenched her free hand, eyes blazing.
“I’ll do anything!”
What did she think I’d ask? Her desperation was proof of a lifetime of suffering. And because she reminded me of myself, I wanted to help even more.
“First, you’ll need prolonged physical contact with someone brimming with Yang energy. The more skin contact, the faster it’ll work—but just staying close to me is enough.”
“Okay!”
Easy enough. The next part, though—
“Then… once your body’s warmed by Yang energy, you’ll need to lie down in front of me. Naked.”
“Oka—…Wait, what?”
Her confidence faltered.
“It’s unavoidable. Reconnecting severed meridians isn’t easy—clothing gets in the way. This isn’t some perverted request, I swear.”
Something about my tone must’ve been funny. She giggled.
“Pfft… I get it. It’s necessary, right? If it’ll heal me, I’ll do it. It’s fine.”
Good. She believed me.
“Also… could you teach me martial arts?”
An unexpected request.
“Would teaching someone with Nine Yin Severed Meridians benefit me too?”
But beyond that—I just wanted to help her.
My first disciple, Baek Ran, had already been half-formed when I met her. Ryeon, though, needed guidance from scratch. If I took her on, I’d have to be a real teacher—someone who could walk the path with her.
“Can I be that person?”
“Yes.”
Once, Yoo Soeun had reached out to me. Now, it was my turn. I was ready to take responsibility for someone else.
“I’ll teach you.”
Her smile was radiant. Seeing it, I found a new goal: to make her so strong she’d never need to prove herself again. Just as I’d outgrown my inferiority toward Soeun, I’d free Ryeon from hers toward Ran.
I’d make her someone who could apologize—unshaken.
“Then I’ll call you ‘Master.’ You can call me Ryeon.”
A clear master-disciple hierarchy was necessary. My first disciple’s lack of structure had caused issues, so I agreed readily.
“Alright, Ryeon.”
She beamed, scooting closer until our shoulders touched.
“We have to stay close for the treatment, right?”
“Uh… yeah?”
Logically, this was for her recovery. But the proximity was… flustering.
“Holding hands like this is better too.”
Her fingers interlaced with mine, maximizing contact. Her condition was improving faster this way.
“…Right.”
Everything she said made sense. So why did my face feel hot?
“She just wants to heal quickly.”
And so, I gained my second disciple.
A… very proactive one.
“She told them, ‘If you abandon her, I won’t stay silent.’ She shielded me from the elders. She was… radiant. The kind of person who could put others at ease just by being near. And yet, I had nothing to give her in return.”
ReplyDeleteAbandon him, not her