Reverse Scale (1)
Cheon Muyang finished his training early for once.
Of course, that "early" still meant he had trained nonstop from morning until noon.
"What's going on?"
The fact that the young lord was leaving early felt so unfamiliar that people began whispering among themselves.
"Hmph. Guess his patience finally ran out. Just wait and see—he'll go back to his hooligan ways any day now!"
Lee Seokgi sneered.
However, even those who harbored resentment toward Cheon Muyang didn't bother listening to Lee Seokgi's words.
At some point, Cheon Muyang had unknowingly become the standard by which everyone measured the day's training volume.
"Feels kind of empty, somehow."
Even if they weren't exactly fond of him.
They felt the absence Cheon Muyang left behind.
It was truly a strange thing.
A wind of change was blowing—one Cheon Muyang himself did not yet realize.
"Let's eat properly for once."
Since he was combining physical training with cultivation, there were times when his craving for food became excessive.
However, overeating could cause problems, so until now he had restrained himself according to Wolyeong's meal plan—but even that had reached its limit.
Tatadak.
Maidservants hurried past at a run.
They were carrying armfuls of cleaning tools in both hands.
It looked like they were being driven hard by the head maid.
"The household sure is bustling. Looks like the family head is arriving."
That was when it happened.
A maid with lips drained pale blue came charging toward Cheon Muyang as if her life depended on it.
"Y-young lord!"
"Hm?"
Hearing someone call him, Cheon Muyang stopped in his tracks.
"Ah, you are…?"
She was a maid who was close to Wolyeong.
Her name was said to be Hwahong.
"Hwahong, was it?"
"Yes, yes! N-now is not the time for this! Wo-Wolyeong right now! Wolyeong is—!"
Hwahong rambled incoherently.
But in her words, the name Wolyeong was clearly heard.
"What about Wolyeong? What happened?"
"Well, th-that is… the person who's said to be your fiancée…"
Cheon Muyang's brows knit together.
"Fiancée? Did you just say fiancée?"
"Yes, yes..."
"Ha, was it around this time?"
Mumyeong had been Cheon Muyang's bodyguard, but at this point in time he had been deep in training.
As a result, he didn't remember every incident that happened around this period in exact detail.
'I clearly heard that, to fix this idiot young lord, the family head wanted to join hands with the Tang Clan.'
It was judged that if anyone knew how to resolve Cheon Muyang's imbalance, it would be the Tang Clan.
For that reason, the family head proposed a marriage to the Tang Clan.
'The Tang Clan accepted readily…'
The Tang Clan accepted.
Perhaps from the moment they received the proposal, the Tang Clan had already begun laying plans for the future.
'And so, that young lady of the Tang Clan visited the clan.'
The sight she saw of Cheon Muyang was that of him passed out drunk.
Since that was how their very first meeting went, it was only natural that all affection would have evaporated—but the Tang Clan's young lady declared that she would go through with the marriage.
'That was a mistake.'
Naturally placed in the weaker position, the family head prepared everything in one swift motion, and before he knew it, Cheon Muyang had taken the Tang Clan's young lady as his wife.
That was the beginning of the Cheon clan's downfall.
'At least, that's how I see it.'
The Tang Clan kept their promise and treated Cheon Muyang's body.
For a full ten years, no less.
In any case, as the family head watched Cheon Muyang's condition gradually improve, he showed an unusually submissive attitude toward the Tang Clan.
'At first, it was over minor benefits…'
The Tang Clan's demands were trivial.
However, as time passed, they began to cross the line.
'They even tried to advance into Zhejiang.'
The Tang Clan thoroughly intended to use the Cheon clan as a stepping stone to expand into Zhejiang.
'And that's exactly what happened…'
Crunch.
Cheon Muyang clenched his teeth.
'This kind of marriage contract should never happen.'
And yet, Cheon Muyang felt as though he was missing something important.
Why would the fiancée's matter come up together with Wolyeong's name?
"But why the fiancée?"
"H-hurry! There's no time to explain with words!"
Hwahong grabbed Cheon Muyang's arm and pulled him along.
It wasn't very far.
"I-I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
There, they saw Wolyeong repeatedly bowing her head, apologizing for her mistake.
At Wolyeong's feet lay what must have been a 'special meal' she had carefully prepared since morning, scattered across the floor.
"...."
"Clothes that have already been soiled won't be cleaned by such a trivial apology."
It was a voice like jade beads.
That alone drew everyone's attention.
Slowly.
Cheon Muyang turned his head.
There stood a woman whose entire body was wrapped in a nobility that seemed untouchable, looking down at Wolyeong.
'Cold as ice.'
Her eyes were undoubtedly beautiful like crystal, yet cold like ice.
"Handle it as you see fit."
She spoke as though she were a magistrate, as though she held the power of life and death over Wolyeong.
And because she was someone with power, her words were no different from a death sentence.
The judgment had been passed, and there were many eager to carry it out.
Srrring.
The attendants around her drew their swords.
Thunk!
The tips of the blades came to rest against Wolyeong's neck.
Wolyeong squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her teeth, and trembled from head to toe.
"That's enough."
Unable to endure it any longer, Cheon Muyang stepped forward.
At that, the Tang Clan's young lady—who had turned her head as if she would never look back—rotated her body.
"..."
Cold eyes swept over Cheon Muyang.
With a smile mixed with ridicule and contempt, she asked,
"Who might you be?"
"The eldest young master of the Cheon Clan, Cheon Muyang."
"Oh my, a pleasure to meet you for the first time. I'm Tang Sohye of the Sichuan Tang Clan."
"Alright, Tang Sohye. What's going on here?"
"Ah, it's nothing serious. My clothes were dirtied, so I ended up delayed."
Nod.
Tang Sohye gave a small nod.
Receiving that signal, the bodyguard swung his sword without hesitation.
Swoosh!
A sharp blade aimed at Wolyeong.
Tang Sohye expected a fountain of blood to erupt.
Clang!
However, that intention was thwarted.
A single sword blocked the strike.
It was Cheon Muyang's sword—Cheongwang, the blade of the Cheon Clan's notorious madman.
Whoom!
The edge of Cheongwang bristled.
In proportion, Cheon Muyang's presence settled heavily over the area.
"I believe I asked what was going on."
"The price for my soiled clothes."
"You'd kill a maid of the Cheon Clan over such a petty reason?"
"Petty, you say. What if what she spilled was poison? What if she were an assassin disguised as a maid?"
Tang Sohye released a murderous aura.
"It's a lawful procedure, carried out in accordance with Tang Clan rules."
Even without holding a sword, a sharp killing intent could be felt.
Still, Cheon Muyang did not retreat.
"This is the Cheon Clan. We don't use such tricks. And this girl is mine. Don't touch her."
Smile.
A smile spread across Tang Sohye's lips.
It was clearly alluring, yet somehow unsettling.
Despite the upturned corners of her mouth, her eyes were not smiling at all.
"How interesting. To think my betrothed would be someone who takes such good care of his people. It seems I made the right choice in following along."
"..."
"We'll meet again at tonight's banquet, then. I'll take my leave."
She dipped her head slightly and departed.
The man who had held a sword to Wolyeong's neck brushed past Cheon Muyang.
"Ah, I do hope you'll be a bit more polite then."
Tang Sohye's meaningful words lingered in the air.
At that moment, Wolyeong went into convulsions.
"Y-young master…?"
"Wolyeong?"
"My body… feels strange."
Thud!
Wolyeong collapsed on the spot.
Her consciousness faded.
Hwahong, who was beside her, screamed.
Rushing to Wolyeong's side, Cheon Muyang checked her pulse.
Crunch!
'Poison…!'
The Tang Clan was a family of poison.
It was said their poisoning techniques could deceive even ghosts.
Grit!
Still, the one who had missed it was himself.
The excellence of the Tang Clan's poisoning techniques was no excuse.
Cheon Muyang burned with anger.
'Failing to protect Wolyeong—that's because of my own weakness.'
He had thought it was enough.
He had thought he was heading in the right direction.
But he wasn't.
He had to become stronger than anyone else.
"Young master…"
Hwahong cautiously called out to Cheon Muyang.
But upon seeing his cold eyes sunk into an abyss, she lost her words.
Anger could blaze red like lava, but at times, there was also a quiet, wavering blue rage.
Shiver!
Even though Hwahong knew that fury wasn't directed at her, a chill still ran down her spine.
"Hwahong, take care of Wolyeong."
"W-what? What are you going to do?"
"There's a banquet, right? I should attend. Can the main character be absent?"
"...!"
After saying that, Cheon Muyang picked up the special dish that had fallen to the ground.
It was Dongpo pork—one of Cheon Muyang's favorites.
Though it was covered in dirt, he didn't care and ate it.
"It's really delicious."
"Y-young master?"
"If Wolyeong wakes up, tell her this for me. The special dish—it was really delicious."
"Ah… yes!"
"Alright. Thank you."
Chill.
The moment he expressed his thanks, Cheon Muyang's expression froze cold once more.
Step, step.
Cheon Muyang walked straight off somewhere, and watching his retreating figure, Hwahong sensed impending disaster.
"Please..."
On any other day, she would have dreaded the eldest young master's mad antics—but today, Hwahong desperately hoped they would succeed.
The family head of the Cheon Clan returned.
Bearing the shocking news of the marriage between Cheon Muyang and Tang Sohye.
"Hm. A marriage."
Cheon Seonhak, who had been away from the clan on a mission, returned on that very day as well.
"To bring in the Tang Clan… what were you thinking, elder brother?"
Cheon Seonhak felt uneasy.
The Tang Clan was neither fox nor wolf.
It was a tiger—one that could easily devour the Cheon Clan whole.
"Tsk."
Cheon Seonhak changed his clothes and was about to go meet the family head.
But a vile killing intent felt from somewhere caught him by the ankle.
'The training grounds?'
That was its source.
As if drawn by something, Cheon Seonhak headed there.
Since the banquet celebrating the family head's return allowed even trainees to attend, the place should have been empty.
"..."
Yet, in the center of the training grounds, Cheon Muyang was there—swinging his sword without fail.
And from that sword flowed a killing intent unlike anything seen before.
'Such vicious killing intent.'
It was not the sword that cleaved the heavens—Dancheon.
It was a sword meant to cut people, not the sky.
Cheon Seonhak stopped in his tracks and watched Cheon Muyang's sword.
Whoooong!
A clear sword hum rang out.
In stark contrast to that pure sound,
Cheon Muyang's face was twisted like that of a ferocious demon.
'This is dangerous.'
He was in a precarious state.
A situation where his anger could devour his body at any moment.
At that, Cheon Seonhak stepped in.
Srrring!
The clear sound of a sword being drawn.
However, Cheon Muyang did not want Cheon Seonhak's intervention.
Grit!
Cheongwang's trajectory shifted ever so slightly.
The sword imbued with killing intent fell straight toward Cheon Seonhak.
Kwaaang!
At a single point in midair, two swords collided.
Cheon Muyang's body was violently knocked backward.
Drip!
Blood flowed.
Spit!
Roughly spitting out saliva, Cheon Muyang stood his ground, unfazed by the surging pain.
"What is it that enrages you so?"
"I am weak."
"..."
"I must become strong."
"For what purpose?"
"To protect what is mine."
"And what is it that you call yours?"
"The Cheon Clan."
Goooooo!
Cheon Seonhak's presence flared.
In an instant, it wrapped around Cheon Muyang.
Though restrained and unable to move under that overwhelming force, Cheon Muyang did not bow his head.
"Can you take responsibility for those words?"
Without the slightest wavering, Cheon Muyang replied,
"Yes."
"Good. For the first time, you truly seem like my nephew."
"..."
Cheon Seonhak smiled faintly.
Whoong!
Along with a clear sword hum,
Cheon Seonhak's sword slowly rose.
"Watch closely. If you are to harbor anger, then do not make it the anger of a petty man—forge it into Reverse Scale ."
Reverse Scale was the wrath of a dragon.
Even anger had its ranks.
"A dragon is like water. Yet even a benevolent being, if its reverse scale is touched, will return as a typhoon."
Cheon Seonhak's sword tore through the sky as it ascended.
The whirlwinds spiraling around it truly became a dragon's rage, biting into and ravaging its target without restraint.
"..."
That overwhelming sword was more than enough to contain Cheon Muyang's fury.
Cheon Seonhak spoke with a smile.
"Well then, shall you learn it?"
"What is the name of that sword?"
"A name, you say… since it holds the dragon's rage, the Reverse Scale—wouldn't Reverse Scale Slash be fitting?"
"Please instruct me."
At some point, Cheon Muyang had freed himself from Cheon Seonhak's presence.
"Very well."