Deep in the mountains, a shabby hut.
In the wide yard, two burial mounds sat side by side.
Cheon Woojin stood quietly, staring at them.
He was recalling the last words his two masters had left behind before dying.
The old master Cheokno, who always insisted on wearing dull colors—from his hair and eyebrows to his mourning robes and long monk's garments—had wished for his disciple to become the greatest villain in the world.
Woojin, if the only disciple of this Cheokno does not become a villain, that too would be truly laughable. In this disgusting world full of hypocrites, it is far more shameful not to become a villain. Especially those White Path bastards tend to be particularly revolting, so keep that in mind.
Cheon Woojin let out a soft chuckle.
Even now, Cheokno's rough, booming way of speaking was vivid in his ears.
In contrast, Master Baekno had remained dignified until his very last moment. Stroking his snow-white beard, he would endlessly expound on the chivalric ideals of the White Path.
"You are Cheokno's disciple, but also mine. Woojin, if you had met me a little earlier, you could have beaten to death every villain under heaven, including the Cheokno standing here. That truly is a pity."
"You may ignore the ramblings of a senile old man."
"Heh heh, mind your language."
"You should be the one to shut up."
The image of the two masters bickering even in their final moments seemed to linger before his eyes.
"Woojin, become a villain, as Cheokno wishes."
"Oh? Now that death is near, Baekno is finally saying something right."
"Become a villain to villains."
"Hoh dear…"
"With the peerless genius having received the teachings of this Baekno, what in the world could you fear? You have fully inherited our legacy. To the good, you shall be a good man, and to the wicked, you shall be a villain."
Such exchanges always ended with the two masters grabbing each other by the collar.
They said the two of them had often made bets since their younger days. Would the world ever know of such a relationship between Cheokno, the greatest public enemy of the martial world, and Baekno, one of the three great eccentrics of the White Path?
Thus, even in their final moments, the two old men placed one last wager.
After their own short remaining lives came to an end.
Would the orphan boy, into whom they had poured everything they had to teach, become the greatest villain , worthy of being Cheokno's disciple?
Or would he become a righteous man who would change the world?
Even as they closed their eyes, the two old men could not foresee the future.
That was how fiercely each of them had staked their very lives to teach Cheon Woojin.
Of course, Cheon Woojin himself was no different in being unable to know what lay ahead.
In truth, whether he became a righteous man or a villain had never mattered much to him in the first place.
He was simply grateful that, when he had been a homeless orphan at such a young age, they had fed him, given him a place to sleep, and taught him so many things.
Lost in those thoughts, Cheon Woojin was about to bow before his two masters' gravestones, when he hesitated.
"Woojin. If, after ten years have passed, the world calls you a villain, bow at my grave."
"If it calls you a righteous man, bow at this Baekno's grave and carve your name there."
Recalling those last words, Cheon Woojin let out a bitter smile.
"To think you wouldn't even let me bow in your final moments."
Truly, his masters were mischievous to the very end.
Cheon Woojin gathered Cheokno's Crescent Fang Staff and Baekno's Crane Feather Fan .
They were the only relics his two masters had left behind.
At the same time, they were the signature weapons of the Twin Elders Cheok and Baek, and since Cheon Woojin had fully mastered both of their martial arts, it was only right that he possess them.
Just as Cheon Woojin was about to step away—
"...…"
A chill settled over the surroundings.
Moments later, ten men clad in dark garments dropped down, encircling the hut.
"So you are Cheokno's disciple?"
"Judging by the Crescent Fang Staff, that seems to be the case."
They exchanged questions and answers among themselves.
Cheon Woojin merely stood there, unmoving.
Enemies of Master Cheokno, then.
Master Baekno had once said that a master's grudges often passed on to their disciple—such things were common in the martial world.
"Those I could truly call my enemies in the martial world are, at most, the Demonic Cult bastards. But most martial artists are enemies of Cheokno, so you must always be on your guard, Woojin."
Recalling Baekno's words, Cheon Woojin nodded toward the dark-clad men.
"I am Cheokno's disciple, Cheon Woojin."
At that, a man who appeared to be the leader of the group stepped forward, his boots crunching softly.
He studied Cheon Woojin as if inspecting a curiosity, then spoke.
"I bear you no particular ill will. If you simply hand over the Crescent Fang Staff, I intend to leave quietly."
Cheon Woojin brought the Crescent Fang Staff forward.Forged from dark, dull metal, it bore the traces of age, yet still looked solid enough to smash anything it struck.
"This one?""That is correct. It was originally ours, so now that Senior Cheokno has died, it is only right that we reclaim it.""Ah, I see."
So they were not enemies of Master Cheokno after all.Cheon Woojin recalled something Master Heukno had often told him.
"Amcheonja . You wouldn't be wrong to say that most of the prominent villains of this era were his disciples. I was the same. However, in the year I awakened, I severed all ties with them. So if you ever encounter someone claiming to be a disciple of Amcheonja, don't ask questions—just smash their skull."
Of course, since Amcheonja's disciples were all villains, killing them would have delighted Master Baekno as well.To be certain, Cheon Woojin asked plainly.
"Are you disciples of Amcheonja?""Our master is indeed so. The great giant known as Amcheonja left behind countless villains in his time, and those villains in turn raised many more as their own disciples."
Cheon Woojin nodded as if he understood.
"Then, in a way, those present here could be considered my fellow disciples. Disciples of a disciple of Amcheonja. I pay my respects to my senior brothers of the same school."
With that, Cheon Woojin clasped his fists politely in a formal salute.The dark-clad men exchanged glances with one another.
We were on edge, thinking him Cheokno's disciple…
He didn't look very old, and unexpectedly, he seemed like someone they could reason with.
Cheon Woojin extended the Crescent Fang Staff toward them,as if inviting them to take it.
Of course, the dark-clad man was also one of the warriors carefully nurtured by a foremost villain of the age, so he did not let down his guard.As he advanced cautiously, the other martial artists surrounding the hut slowly tightened the encirclement.
Soon, a circle with a radius of one jang about three meters) formed around Cheon Woojin.Even as the man reached out to take the Crescent Fang Staff, he prepared to draw his sword with his left hand, ready for a surprise attack.
So much tension.So much caution.
And yet—
At the very moment his fingertips lightly touched the dark iron staff,the Crescent Fang Staff blurred, seeming to stretch like pulled taffy, as if it were melting away...
Shrrk—!
Before the black-clad man's sword was even halfway drawn—
Puh-ak!
His head burst apart like a fully ripened gourd.
And that was not the end of it.
The Crescent Fang Staff traced a dark arc around Cheon Woojin.
Heaven-Filling Full Moon.
Puh-buh-buh-buk!
Blood, chunks of flesh, and fragments of bone scattered chaotically through the air.
It all happened in an instant.
Ten heads exploded at once, and only those of relatively higher cultivation had even managed to place a hand on their sword hilts.
Cheon Woojin slammed the Crescent Fang Staff into the ground with a heavy thud.
Blood and flesh clinging to the staff splattered off, and only then did the ten headless corpses finally collapse to the ground.
The blood they spilled soaked the wide yard in red.
Cheon Woojin withdrew the staff and turned his gaze toward the dense thicket.
Sa-sa-sak—!
The faint sound of leaves brushing together rang in his ears like thunder.
Seven in total.
Having finished his assessment, Cheon Woojin drew a white fan from his robes and unfolded it.
Char-reuk—!
It was the Crane Feather Fan, adorned with three white cranes.
Like someone leisurely fanning themselves beneath a tree's shade in midsummer, he waved it unhurriedly.
The breeze born at the fan's edge surged forward, growing in mass as it advanced, until it finally filled the entire yard.
Crane Wind Annihilation
The thick branches of towering trees bent wildly, as though on the verge of snapping.
Yet astonishingly, amid that violent chaos, the two burial mounds of his masters remained perfectly still—untouched by even the slightest breeze.
Thud!
From some distance away came the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.
Starting with that sound, the dark-clad men who had tried to flee collapsed one after another, trailing blood behind them.
Cheon Woojin folded the fan and turned his gaze behind him.
One dark-clad man—who had miraculously survived the blade-filled storm—stared at Cheon Woojin in terror.
"S-spare me."
Cheon Woojin spoke to the empty air.
"Masters, what should I do?"
Naturally, the dead gave no answer.
But after looking toward Cheokno's gravestone, Cheon Woojin nodded.
"Yes, I understand."
"...?"
Despair spread across the black-clad man's face.
Cheon Woojin glanced around, picked up a fist-sized stone from the ground, and—
Crack—puk!
The last remaining man's head burst apart instantly.
Even amid a scene soaked in blood in every direction, the space around where Cheon Woojin stood was peaceful beyond measure.
Straightening his clothes, Cheon Woojin raised a clasped-fist salute toward his two masters' graves in place of a bow.
"Wahahaha! Well done, boy! At this rate, go find their master and smash his skull too!"
"Truly well done, Woojin. There is no need to show mercy to villains. Doing so might only place you in danger."
Imagining the two masters looking upon him with pride made his mood lift for no reason at all.
With his head lowered toward the burial mounds, Cheon Woojin bid them farewell.
"Your disciple feels a little nervous now that I am finally leaving. Still, I will never act in a way that tarnishes your reputations."
After declaring his resolve, Cheon Woojin lifted his head and turned his body toward the martial world.
"What is there for you to be nervous about? It is the world that should tremble."
"Cheokno is right. Other than the three martial artists who never feared us, all under heaven will watch your every move."
Hearing those voices as if they came from behind him, Cheon Woojin broke into a gentle smile.
And so, Cheon Woojin stepped forward into the world.
Whether that path would become the Journey of a Villain or the Journey of a Righteous Man —
no one could yet know.
…..