TCRH Ch 2

“AAAAAGH!”

Hwi Biyeon screamed as he shot upright.

“Gasp… Gasp!”

He breathed raggedly, groping at his neck. His neck… was attached! He was astonished to feel the pulse beneath his fingertips. That couldn’t be. He’d clearly had his head cut off by Pung Wolbaek. Even if some miracle doctor had stumbled upon him, reattaching a severed head was impossible. He’d never even heard of such an ability. He absolutely should not be alive.

“Ugh… Ugh.”

Suddenly, he heard groaning nearby. Hwi Biyeon turned his head towards the sound and, upon seeing something, trembled like a lightning-struck tree before roaring.

“You rascal!”

“Oh, Senior Brother… Why are you having such a terrible nightmare…?”

“Nam Jibyeok! How dare you show your face here?!”

Hwi Biyeon, bellowing like thunder, lunged at the man who was clutching his head as if struck, groaning in pain. The man, hit squarely in the chest by Hwi Biyeon’s palm strike, went flying through the door and into the courtyard, rolling head over heels.

“Ow… Ow, Senior Brother. Ouch! I’m dying, I’m dying! What kind of dream were you having to be so violent?!”

A clear handprint was imprinted on the chest of the man wailing on the ground. Hwi Biyeon flinched again at the distinct pulse he felt beneath his palm where it had connected with Nam Jibyeok’s chest. Drenched in sweat, his face was ashen, as if he’d seen a ghost. Every hair on his body stood on end, as if he’d experienced a nightmare while lying down.

‘Is this… not the afterlife?’

He repeatedly ran his hands over his body, eventually closing his eyes and examining his physical form with his Qi. He felt surprisingly healthy and clean internal energy.

Strange. Why was he alive? He had definitely died by Pung Wolbaek’s sword. The memories of people pointing fingers at him, calling him a monstrous murderer, of being branded a public enemy, his sect engulfed in flames overnight and annihilated – these were all vivid.

At the same time, he could clearly see Nam Jibyeok pathetically writhing and screaming beyond the tattered door.

“…This truly can’t be… the afterlife.”

This place was far too familiar to Hwi Biyeon for it to be the afterlife. He looked around the room and let out a low sigh. He’d received this chamber on Taebaek Peak when he was an intermediate disciple of the Taebaek Clan. He’d spent his time here with his fellow disciple, Nam Jibyeok, under their master’s guidance until he reached the age of forty. The neatly arranged room was exactly as he remembered it.

However, he knew that before the Taebaek Clan burned down, other disciples had moved into this chamber. It was impossible for the room to remain exactly the same, considering the changes they would have made during their stay.

Putting the room aside, Hwi Biyeon looked sharply at Nam Jibyeok, who was rolling around in the courtyard, and said coldly,

“Nam Jibyeok. How dare you set foot in here?”

“Senior Brother, what are you talking about after beating me up like this?”

“You call me Senior Brother?”

“…Have you really gone mad?”

He still couldn’t fathom whether this was the afterlife or if he was caught in some kind of trickery. It was too vivid to be a flashback, yet too many things felt amiss for it to be the afterlife. But his memories, including his enlightenment, couldn’t simply be a dream, making it difficult to accept the current situation. Who wouldn’t feel the same?

‘But… it’s strange. My senses are too real.’

The stinging pain in his palm from striking Nam Jibyeok still lingered. Nam Jibyeok was a disciple of the Taebaek Clan who studied under the same master as him. And he had died when Hwi Biyeon was thirty. Though they had been like oil and water, their personalities clashing due to Nam Jibyeok’s uncouth and rough demeanor, they had been the closest of brothers under the same master. That is, until Nam Jibyeok betrayed the sect over a woman and committed the heinous act of killing a young disciple, forcing Hwi Biyeon to personally execute him.

“What’s all the commotion?”

A familiar voice from outside broke Hwi Biyeon’s train of thought. His eyes widened in surprise, and he jumped up and rushed out. Upon seeing the owner of the voice, he wiped his tears with his sleeve and bowed his head.

“Master!”

“Byeok, why are you sprawled on the ground like that? And Yeon, sleeping in this late is unlike you.”

Their master, Myeonmyeon, had passed away from illness when Hwi Biyeon turned forty. He had kept his worries bottled up, not uttering a word to even his only disciple before closing his eyes. Nevertheless, to Hwi Biyeon, his master had been a lifelong parent and benefactor.

“Master!”

Myeonmyeon was a skilled martial artist, but he had never even come close to reaching the level of the Seongsipsamsa. Hwi Biyeon had achieved that title after Myeonmyeon’s death. In a way, he might now possess deeper and stronger martial arts skills than his master.

Still, a master is forever a master. Before him, Hwi Biyeon reverted to a weak and dependent child. Just as he was about to rush towards his master, wiping his tears, he was struck in the stomach, head, and knees by a flying club, sending him flying.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The sound of the beating echoed across Taebaek Peak.

“How peculiar. Did you achieve enlightenment overnight? Your aura has changed.”

Myeonmyeon, Hwi Biyeon’s master, grinned fiercely and adjusted his grip on the club. He might have seemed calmer due to age, but in his youth, he had been the most notorious ruffian in the Taebaek Clan. Hwi Biyeon remembered the Taebaek Clan Leader’s wry smile as he told him this story. He had added that if Myeonmyeon hadn’t calmed down somewhat after taking on a disciple, some might have mistaken the Taebaek Clan for a band of villains. That’s how fierce and savage Myeonmyeon’s club was.

“M-Master.”

Thanks to the pain of being thoroughly thrashed by his master, Hwi Biyeon finally grasped reality.

He was alive.

And he had returned to the past.