Thick iron chains, and talismans that looked ominous at a glance.
They clung to a massive iron door.
“In here, you’re saying there’s a martial art for Gwangil?”
“For now, yes.”
Gwangil looked at Seohwan with uneasy eyes.
“The reason you said you couldn’t teach me, don’t tell me...”
“The martial art for the Celestial Execution Physique is sealed inside that hall.”
Sealed?
“There aren’t many martial arts that can control and harness the killing aura of the Celestial Execution.”
Seohwan continued his explanation.
“Since it was originally created for someone exceptional, if anyone without the Celestial Execution were to learn it, they’d simply become a raving murderer. It’s a martial art that grants great power, but one that is excessively dangerous as well. That’s why it was sealed inside the hall.”
“So basically, it’s too important to bring out?”
“...In the past, that would have been one reason. But now, that doesn’t matter anymore.”
Seohwan stretched out his finger toward the other books he had already taken out.
The ones he had said he would teach my men.
“Ordinarily, each of these martial arts I’ve brought out now are precious knowledge that cannot be taught lightly. Even showing them to outsiders should never be allowed.”
“Then why?”
“I told you, didn’t I? My world has already perished.”
Seohwan gently brushed his hand over an old book.
“The culture of a ruined world has no /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ meaning anymore. So there’s no reason to be stingy about teaching it, is there?”
“...I see.”
“Even if I was forced into it by threat, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. If I can at least pass on the knowledge my world built up to this one... it’s better than vanishing with nothing left behind.”
I don’t know the details.
But as the last survivor of a perished world...
He must have made a decision.
‘Not so different from us, is it?’
My own world is heading toward ruin as well.
Thinking that Seohwan’s situation could become our future...
Left a bitter taste.
“The reason I cannot teach the Celestial Execution martial art is simple.”
It wasn’t because the martial art in that hall was too precious.
“From the start, I cannot open that hall.”
“...”
He looked at Gwangil with an apologetic expression.
“I can imagine at least a little of how much you must be suffering because of that Celestial Execution. We, too, often suffer misfortunes we never wanted when we can’t control the instincts we’re born with.”
“...”
“If it were up to me, I’d like to save you from that misfortune. If I could just teach you the martial art within, I could calm your Madness... but all I can do is say sorry.”
At those words,
the expectation that had filled Gwangil drained away, leaving visible gloom on his face.
“Does it absolutely have to be that martial art for the Celestial Execution? This kid Gwangil... he seems to have talent in fighting in general. Even a martial art like the ones you’re giving the other soldiers...”
“If that were possible, then Celestial Execution bearers wouldn’t have become notorious as deranged murderers. Unless it’s a martial art that properly handles that aura, it’s better not to learn anything at all. The odds of being consumed by Madness go up astronomically if he trains in an unfitting art.”
“Still... there’s got to be some way.”
“I’m sorry, but teaching what’s in that hall is the only way. Beyond that, I know nothing.”
“...Damn it. Then there’s got to be a way to smash this door or something!”
I spat a curse.
Startled, Gwangil flailed his hands in front of me.
“N-no, it’s fine. Please calm down, Sergeant Shin.”
“Fine, my ass. Just stay quiet. I’ll make this bastard cough up an answer somehow.”
But Seohwan only shook his head calmly.
“If this door could be opened with strength, it would have been done already.”
“...”
“This is no simple iron door. It’s forged from the most unbreakable ore known, sealed with countless sorceries. Unless my master returns, no one in existence can open it by force.”
I glanced down at my shadow.
[Vein that Devours Steel]
Maybe Kkamang could chew through that door.
—Kiiing...
But the sound that came from within was a whimper without confidence.
So it really was sealed with all kinds of sorcery.
Even Kkamang, who could chew and swallow any mineral, couldn’t bite through it.
Click.
I bit down on my lip.
Gwangil, sweating coldly, stepped in to block me.
“I’m really fine. You know it yourself. I’m strong enough without some martial art.”
“...”
“H-ha ha. Of course, it’s a bit regrettable that I can’t control the Madness... but even without that technique, with my willpower I’ll manage somehow! Didn’t you always tell me, Sergeant Shin? If it doesn’t work, make it work.”
“Hoo... Gwangil.”
“With stubborn grit, I’ll master it someday! So don’t worry too much. In the end, this is my own problem. Leave it to me...”
“It’s not just your problem, that’s the point.”
“...Sir?”
Yeah.
It’s not just something that matters only to you.
“Hoo...”
I swept my face with a sigh.
Then spoke to Seohwan.
“Let’s talk, just the two of us.”
“...?”
“Gwangil, you go rest with the other soldiers.”
“...Yes.”
He didn’t seem to understand my reaction.
But orders, he obeyed without fuss.
Such an obedient guy.
“What is it you want to say?”
“It’s a continuation of earlier. A way to resolve that kid’s Madness. Anything at all, give me something.”
“...I already told you. I know of no way. Why do you get so angry over that giant’s problem?”
He tilted his head instead.
“That giant isn’t wrong, either. This is his problem, not yours. You’re already strong enough, aren’t you? Those two who dwelled in your shadow—just their strength alone would be more than enough without the Celestial Execution’s martial art.”
“I told you already. This isn’t only Gwangil’s problem.”
“...?”
I fiddled with the kitchen knife at my side.
Honestly, something I didn’t like to admit to anyone.
“That Madness he carries... it came from me.”
“...What?”
Because it was my sin.
[The Chef’s Special Sauce]
A ridiculous name for a skill.
But despite how silly it sounds...
It has a tremendously powerful effect.
‘The power to manipulate human emotions.’
Of all my abilities, perhaps the most dangerous.
Now I’ve fully grasped it.
But in the beginning—
I had no idea how strong it was.
“Gwangil was a kid who lived a life far from Madness. In fact, he was an utter coward. So scared he couldn’t even listen to ghost stories.”
“You mean you changed that?”
“Being a coward wasn’t good for survival. Back then I thought I was doing it for everyone’s sake. Even now, I don’t regret the thought itself. The problem is... I overdid it.”
A dish infused with [Courage].
The result of too much courage—
Gwangil awakened while swept away in Madness.
‘An awakening into a berserker.’
So, how to put it...
A Madness that would torment and hound him all his life.
The one who brought it about—
was none other than me.
“That Madness exists because I wanted to survive.”
It was the first time I’d admitted this out loud.
Even Minjae-hyung, who first noticed my ability—
I’d never spoken of this debt I carried.
“That’s why it’s on me to take responsibility.”
“...I see.”
Maybe it was because he was practically a stranger.
I could say it like muttering to a wall.
Seohwan gave a small nod.
“...Since you oppressed others with power, I thought you must be an utter bastard.”
“What, you bastard?”
“But perhaps the one to inherit our martial arts isn’t such a villain. I suppose that’s something to be relieved about.”
“....”
I wondered what he was thinking after hearing my words.
The look on his face turned a little friendlier.
“Still. Allow me to correct one thing.”
“?”
“That the Celestial Execution appeared because of you—that’s probably a misunderstanding.”
“What?”
I couldn’t help but widen my eyes.
Anyone could see it was my cooking that made him awaken as a berserker.
But a misunderstanding?
“Perhaps the rules of this world differ from the one I lived in... but if my guess is right, there’s not much difference.”
“And that means?”
“The Celestial Execution is something you’re born with. It cannot be created later.”
“...?”
But Gwangil was nothing like a mad murderer.
He’d been too much of a coward to dare anything dangerous.
“Only, there’s a difference in when the Celestial Execution manifests.”
“Manifests...?”
“When it shows at a young age, nine times out of ten the bearer can’t withstand it and dies. The aura is too immense. So those born with it instinctively delay its awakening.”
“Delay it?”
“Most of the time, they do it by acting the exact opposite of the Celestial Execution. Until their blood flowers, they appear as timid as a frightened scholar.”
“...”
So Gwangil was the same.
“What you did... was only to stir that aura from its slumber. Whether sooner or later, the Celestial Execution would have awoken.”
“So you’re saying I was still the trigger?”
“Not entirely wrong. But whether the result was bad—that’s another story.”
He crossed his arms and looked down toward the quarters where Gwangil waited.
“Physically, he’s already close to a complete warrior. His body was ready to contain the Celestial Execution. By awakening earlier, before the aura grew too strong, his reason wasn’t wholly devoured by Madness.”
“...!”
“If it had awoken later, when the aura was stronger, he really would have become a raving murderer. In that sense, what you did was well-timed. Thanks to that aura, he’s won many battles already.”
At Seohwan’s words,
I could only mutter with wide eyes.
“...You’re serious? You’re not just lying to console me...”
“Console you? Why would I console a man who threatens me with force to hand over martial arts?”
“...Ha ha.”
So that’s how it is.
“If you hadn’t given him that trigger, that giant might have suffered worse. You need not feel guilty.”
It felt like the strength drained out of my whole body.
One of the sins I thought I’d carry all my life—
turned out to be nothing at all.
“Do you feel relieved now?”
“A little.”
Seohwan gave a small nod.
“As I said. Thanks to you awakening that aura sooner, the man’s reason wasn’t swallowed whole by Madness. It’s a pity, but the Celestial Execution’s aura is mighty—he can wield power on par with trained fighters even without a martial art. His training can be abandoned...”
“No. That’s a different matter.”
“What?”
Thanks to this guy,
I learned I didn’t need to feel guilty toward Gwangil.
But.
That doesn’t mean finding him a martial art doesn’t matter.
“Even if guilt is lifted, that doesn’t erase responsibility.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“He’s my soldier. And I’m the one leading this unit.”
“...”
Guilt aside—
I still have the duty to take responsibility for my men.
Above all—
every other soldier gets a martial art to take back with them.
But Gwangil alone would have nothing?
That’d be...
“Like he’s being left out.”
“...”
That’s not how our unit works.
