ALL NOVEL – Cheon Mu-myeong
I had already guessed that my Master must have lived for a very long time.
Unlike my Master, I’m not completely oblivious; there were plenty of clues to make educated guesses.
Even when I first met her, she looked like a freshly turned adult, yet her house was ancient and decrepit.
‘It was serious enough that one wonders how she even managed to live in such a place.’
The wooden logs were haphazardly patched together and infested with bugs, and there were even mushrooms growing in one corner of the room.
Were other parts any better?
‘Not at all.’
The roof barely did its job, leaking rainwater that allowed mold to bloom all over the floor, and the uneven ground would definitely leave me with a twisted back after sleeping here.
So the first thing I did upon arriving was to fix up my Master’s home.
Of course, there was a slight pushback from her.
When I casually brought up the topic of her house, her eyes sparkled as she beamed with pride, telling me how she built it piece by piece.
She was so eager to share about where she sourced the materials and what the animals she encountered looked like; she kept veering off-topic in her enthusiasm.
She confidently puffed out her chest, explaining in detail how she came to build her home, and honestly, I was a bit taken aback at that time.
What could I say? The awe I felt upon first meeting her was almost overwhelming.
‘Of course, looking back now, she’s just a charming little Master.’
Anyway, seeing her so attached to this house made me wonder if I shouldn’t fix it up, but I couldn’t let my benefactor sleep in a place that might worsen her health. So I secretly started repairing it bit by bit.
Naturally, she remains completely unaware of this to this day, which is slightly sacrilegious to think.
‘Just how oblivious is my Master, really?’
At this point, one might start worrying about her, but I didn’t care.
On the contrary, I was delighted by this aspect of her.
I had found areas where I could help my Master! Her shortcomings were things I could easily fill.
Some might view me with suspicion, but this is what I consider being a disciple.
Oh wait,
Having lived with my Master, could it be that I’m starting to resemble her? I almost found my thoughts wandering.
Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I already knew my Master was older.
Yet it’s one thing to have a vague feeling, and another to hear it directly from her. Hearing it from her lips made me genuinely happy.
It felt as if we had grown closer, so I smiled, but perhaps she took it as mockery because suddenly, a fist flew my way.
In that moment, I almost drifted off into oblivion but barely managed to stay alert and reassure her.
No doubt it was her impulsive reaction, and I knew it didn’t come from malice.
My Master has a warm heart.
Look at her, panicking now while I am on the floor with my face buried in it!
Still, it hurt, and as I lay there, she glanced at me and asked,
“Cough, are you okay?”
“…Yes.”
After a while, when I really did feel better and attempted to get up, I suddenly felt her gentle hand on my back.
I halted in my attempt to sit up, burying my face back to the ground again.
It felt as if her love for me was radiating from her hand, and that affectionate touch was so sweet.
Though it wasn’t the kind of affection I craved.
“I’m sorry. As a Master, I should be fulfilling a parental role, but I let my anger get the better of me.”
She spoke sincerely, and I knew that her apology was genuine, but I didn’t like her words.
“I told you, military and teacher are one and the same!”
Hearing “military and teacher” made me scrunch my face in discontent.
‘Who on earth has said such a thing to my Master?’
I sincerely hope someone tells her that’s wrong.
I might seem overly sensitive, but I have my reasons.
The reason I react so strongly to that phrase is that one day, in my youthful attempt to connect and play around, my Master brought up that military and teacher are one and the same, demanding I show her proper respect.
She provided a persuasive explanation, but the gist was that I should stop making fun of her and that she would put in the effort to fulfill her role properly.
Since then, I did listen to her, half because it made sense.
‘That’s really only half true.’
A Master and a king are on the same level, but a parent is different.
I don’t mean to imply negative feelings toward my own parents with that statement.
Since hearing that phrase, I’ve been taking care of my Master with utmost devotion.
I know she doesn’t eat much, but I wake up before her to prepare meals and wake her.
Of course, it was partly out of genuine desire to help, but there was a slightly dark motive as well.
I didn’t want her to think of me as a child, so I made sure to fulfill all parental roles.
Anyway, that blasted phrase “military and teacher.”
That’s the only part of my Master’s words I truly dislike.
I won’t be hearing that phrase in the future.
I dislike the idea of parents.
I’d be willing to serve and attend to her like a king without getting my hands dirty, but parents? Nope, not for me.
I just really don’t want any of that.
– Cheon Ha-rang
Was that too much?
Nameless was packing his wooden sword to head out to the training ground, claiming he was fine now, but when I saw that pained expression on his face, he didn’t look fine at all.
‘But he was the one who started it…’
Why should I feel sorry?
Tears of misery blurred my vision, though of course I didn’t actually shed any real tears; it was just an act.
Sniffle—
Eventually, Nameless left without even looking back at my exaggerated performance of rubbing my eyes with my arm.
‘He really left.’
When I confirmed he was completely out of the house, I hardened my expression and contemplated my age.
Though it was shocking enough to realize I’m 300 years old,
the more I thought about it, the more I feared that the main story might’ve already concluded by now.
If so, Nameless might just be a remarkably handsome kid by sheer chance.
‘Does that relieve some pressure?’
Of course, I can’t fully let my guard down.
If they sent me here, they’re at least omnipotent, and there’s no way they would’ve sent me here without reason.
And thinking back to what Nameless said, the year he becomes an adult is just when the Academy is celebrating its 300th anniversary.
That’s too conveniently symbolic to simply dismiss as coincidence.
So, does this world indeed have the Academy tag?
‘That seems highly likely.’
Given that it had been over 300 years,
my memory of what I read back then is so hazy, but I’ve finally started to gather clues about this place.
Cold sweat dripped down my spine.
Does this mean I’ve been making all kinds of excuses not to properly teach someone who needs to enter the Academy in four years?
Most works with the Academy tag feature protagonists overflowing with talent and are relatively OP.
What about Nameless?
He certainly looks talented, but if I were to ask if he is OP…
‘My Master is the one…?’
This time, I feel like real tears might actually flow.
In stark contrast to my resolution, it seems I’ve shattered the story before it even began.
Just as the truth became overwhelming, I made one resolution.
After all these years of laborious training, not just metaphorically, but truly breaking my bones, wouldn’t it be alright for me to teach him?
If he has the talent that even I can see.
‘I should be able to enlighten him!’
Just then, I was about to start teaching him the first sword technique, as his foundation was now sufficient.
I slowly stood up from my seat and walked toward the door.
Ideally, by now we should be crossing swords, gaining practical experience that I never had.
But plans have gone awry.
It seems I was meant to impart the essence of my life to him.
With the wooden sword strapped to my waist, as I headed toward the open training area, I saw Nameless swinging the sword as I had instructed him.
It hadn’t been long since I entered the woods, but he was already practicing the Three Essentials Sword Technique.
Simple and straightforward, just slashing and stabbing.
Even so, this movement held the essence of swordsmanship.
But it wasn’t enough; it wouldn’t get me to the skies.
So, I created more.
Going beyond the simplicity of slashing and stabbing, I added layers to my energy control, forcing my body to endure rigorous training for 300 years.
I developed the technique called “Heavenly Cutting,” which to outsiders seems to slice the heavens but internally means slashing deities.
I’ve decided to drill this into Nameless, whether he likes it or not.