Chapter 77: The Training Hall

1. The First Exchange

A cool silence pressed heavily down upon the Training Hall.

The sand spread across the floor scraped and shifted beneath Mujin’s toes.

His memories had been erased, yet his body still read even the faintest texture of the ground beneath him.

The scabbard at his waist swayed low with each step.

Mujin stared at the man standing opposite him without a word, without a flicker of emotion.

In one corner of his vision, Minerva’s UI flickered in short pulses, releasing warning tones.

[Administrator cognitive function degraded. Physical control authority secured: 32.4%.]

[Combat Calculation System switching to Instinct Mode.]

The black-armored Demonic Heavenly Guards surrounding the area stood frozen like statues.

Every gaze behind those helmets was fixed solely on the center of the Training Hall.

Only the hem of the Heavenly Demon’s black robe stirred in the night wind, creating a strange ripple in the air.

It happened before the man’s hand even touched his sword hilt.

Mujin’s right hand moved first.

Faster than thought.

Clang—!

A sharp metallic cry tore through the silence as a silver-white blade split the air.

There was no memory.

But the feel of the sword hilt settling into his palm pulled the muscles of Mujin’s arm taut, as if it were an old habit carved deep into his flesh.

Mujin narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar sensation and lowered the tip of his blade toward his opponent.

The Heavenly Demon’s movement was simple.

Without warning, he took a single step forward.

That was all.

Yet the air of the Training Hall split apart as if cut by a blade.

The Heavenly Demon’s sword drew a straight line toward Mujin’s shoulder.

It was an attack stripped of all excess, refined solely for killing.

The sand on the floor burst outward in every direction beneath the force of it.

Mujin’s mind could not read the trajectory of that attack.

But his body reacted first.

Instinct, moving ahead of consciousness, twisted his muscles and shifted his axis.

Shhhk—.

It was a hair’s breadth.

The tip of the Heavenly Demon’s sword brushed past the edge of Mujin’s shoulder.

The evasion had come half a beat late, and yet Mujin’s feet had already found the optimal line of retreat.

“……!”

The gazes inside the helmets of the watching Demonic Heavenly Guards shook all at once.

Even with his memories lost and his sense of self barely intact, he had dodged the legendary Heavenly Demon’s strike by instinct alone.

Mujin’s eyes were still unfocused.

But inside that dry, empty gaze, the faintest spark of struggle began to flicker.

2. The Body Remembers

The Heavenly Demon’s eyes sharpened.

As if demanding proof that the evasion just now had not been mere chance, his sword came rushing in twice as fast as before.

The sound of the blade tearing through the air rang across the entire Training Hall, and the heavy force wrapped around the sword pressed toward Mujin’s chest.

Mujin’s brain remained still.

There was no room to analyze the enemy’s sword path or devise a response.

But before his brain could make a judgment, the muscles in Mujin’s arm twitched first.

Clang—! Kang!

The silver-white blade drew an arc through the air and knocked aside the Heavenly Demon’s sword.

It was not a simple defense.

It was an instinctive counterattack, deflecting the opponent’s force while cutting into the shortest possible opening.

Sparks scattered each time the blades collided, and the impact traveled up Mujin’s wrist and into his shoulder.

“……!”

Along with the numbing pain in his arm, Mujin’s blurred eyes shook fiercely for one fleeting instant.

He remembered nothing.

Not the name of this sword art.

Not why he was making these movements.

But his body knew.

At what angle he needed to apply force.

At what moment his foot had to drive into the ground.

The Archeon Combat Arts were flowing out exactly as they had been engraved into Mujin’s bones and every segment of his nerves.

It was less a martial art learned by the mind and closer to a mechanical perfection repeated tens of thousands of times for survival.

Watching from outside the Training Hall, Seol let out a low growl.

To the beast’s eyes, it was visible.

The immense fighting instinct sleeping inside his master’s body was awakening violently, feeding on the pressure of the Heavenly Demon.

The silver-white afterglow clinging to the tip of Mujin’s blade mixed with the Heavenly Demon’s black light, embroidering a strange and beautiful trajectory across the Training Hall.

The Heavenly Demon’s sword did not stop.

Immediately after the first strike was avoided, the second sword path came cutting toward Mujin’s waist.

Mujin’s foot dug into the sand.

His body turned first.

Clang—!

The sword barely blocked it.

It was just before the fourth exchange collided.

Mujin’s blade was about to draw a diagonal line toward the Heavenly Demon’s neck.

At that instant, the Heavenly Demon suddenly raised his sword upright and stepped half a pace back.

At the same time, Mujin’s sword also stopped dead in midair.

“…….”

A terrible silence covered the Training Hall.

The tip of Mujin’s blade trembled faintly near the Heavenly Demon’s collarbone.

His consciousness had stopped, but the fighting spirit embedded within his body seemed to be clawing at his muscles, demanding that he thrust the sword forward at once.

Mujin’s rough breathing dotted the quiet Training Hall.

The Heavenly Demon did not lower his sword as he stared directly into Mujin’s eyes.

Unfocused pupils.

Yet beyond that abyss, a wild light flashed.

Those were not the eyes of one who had learned.

They were the eyes of one who had survived.

A strange smile touched the Heavenly Demon’s lips.

Satisfied, perhaps.

Or bitter.

“The blade did not hesitate.”

“Three-tenths.”

The moment the Heavenly Demon spoke, the air that had been stretched tight finally loosened.

“His memories are dead, but his body is alive.”

He slowly slid his sword back into its scabbard.

Click.

At the clear metallic sound, the tension drained from Mujin’s shoulders.

Mujin looked down at his own palm, wearing the expression of someone who had no idea what he had just done.

The knuckles that had gripped the sword hilt had gone white.

The Heavenly Demon delivered his final judgment on Mujin’s state.

Even without memory, his Lord was still his Lord.

Even if he had to be dragged into a land of death, the minimum vessel needed to protect himself had not shattered.

3. The Shadows of the Demonic Heavenly Guard

The Heavenly Demon turned his head toward the black-armored figures standing motionless on one side of the Training Hall.

Wherever his gaze touched, the air seemed to freeze in place.

After confirming the state of Mujin’s swordsmanship, the Heavenly Demon reached his conclusion without hesitation.

“Demonic Heavenly Guards.”

At his call, dozens of black-armored warriors bowed in unison.

The Heavenly Demon selected two among them whose energy was the most tightly contained.

“You two will lead the way. Become my Lord’s shadows on the road to the Northern Sea.”

The two black-armored warriors he had chosen stepped forward without a sound.

The moment the Heavenly Demon’s command fell, they raised their swords toward Mujin at chest height.

A heavy sound of metal striking metal broke the silence of the Training Hall.

“We receive the command.”

Their voices, muffled beyond their helmets, rang coldly, stripped of emotion.

It was not a simple answer.

It was the vow of warriors who would lay down their lives to protect their Lord.

From now on, they would stand at Mujin’s closest distance, becoming the eyes and ears of the Lord who had lost his memories, and the shield that would break through the blizzard of the Northern Sea.

After confirming their resolute bearing, the Heavenly Demon turned back toward Mujin.

Even if this was only a body at three-tenths, with these elite escorts, the road to the Northern Sea ruins would open.

That conviction was clear in his eyes.

4. Soha’s Relief

Only then did Soha release the breath she had been holding.

Throughout the sparring match, her heart had been pounding as if it might burst at any moment.

Every time her father’s sword aimed for her orabeoni’s throat, Soha could not even scream.

She only bit down on her lip and endured.

When Mujin pushed his sword back into its scabbard, the murderous pressure circling the Training Hall drained away like the receding tide.

Soha dragged her trembling legs forward and took one step toward Mujin.

Mujin’s gaze slowly turned toward her.

His eyes were still clouded, as though a fog had settled over them.

There was no sign that he remembered who he was, or who the woman standing before him was.

But it was different from the dry, mechanical gaze he had cast upon the black armor before.

There was no hostility.

Though his mind had forgotten her, Mujin’s instinct did not reject the tender, warm energy he sensed from Soha.

Mujin stared blankly into Soha’s wet eyes, then tilted his head ever so slightly.

It was a strange expression, as if he were trying to trace the shadow of something he had once seen in a dream, far in the distant past.

That fleeting gaze alone was enough for Soha to feel a heartbreaking relief.

Even if he had lost his memories, the essence of her orabeoni had not changed.

She had confirmed that much.

5. Toward the Northern Sea

Once more, a system window flickered across Mujin’s retinas.

This time, it was not a simple status report.

Minerva pulled a map from the deepest layers of Eclipse’s database and spread it out in translucent form.

[Northern Sea coordinates confirmed.]

[Response detected from an Archeon Ark Facility.]

Minerva’s guidance echoed inside Mujin’s mind.

Mujin did not fully understand the contents.

But the moment the words “Northern Sea” surfaced, the energy suppressed inside him reacted with a cold tremor.

It was as if an ancient memory were stirring faintly beneath ice.

Mujin’s gaze stopped toward the north.

The Heavenly Demon did not miss that subtle change.

His eyes narrowed.

“……North, then.”

He did not ask further.

If his Lord’s body pointed in that direction, then the reason would follow later.

The Heavenly Demon turned to the black-armored warriors and spoke in a low voice.

“Eclipse’s power cannot restore our Lord.”

A brief silence.

Then a firm conclusion.

“We go to the Northern Sea.”

To Mujin, who had lost his memories, it was a journey for survival.

To Soha and the black armor, it was the beginning of a sacred campaign for their Lord’s true return.

Soha looked up at the northern sky with anxious eyes.

But once she realized that the direction Mujin’s blade pointed was there, she quietly clenched her fist.

As the dust of the Training Hall settled, Seol’s broad front paw prints appeared side by side beside Mujin’s footprints.

Mujin still said nothing.

Yet his gaze no longer wandered through empty air.

It followed the warmth of Seol, who was rubbing his head against Mujin’s calf.

The Heavenly Demon watched Mujin from behind and tightened his hand around the hilt of his sword.

The state of his Lord, confirmed through the sparring match, was miserable.

And yet, at the same time, it was hopeful.

Because the void left by the memories his brain had erased was being filled by the instinct called Archeon Combat Arts.

He slowly turned his head toward Soha.

His own blood.

His daughter, whose eyes held an indescribable mixture of grief and relief as she tried, even amid the fierce storms of the Demonic Cult, to remain by Mujin’s side until the end.

The Heavenly Demon looked past Soha’s shoulder toward the dark passage and murmured softly.

“Bear with it a moment longer, my Lord.”

It was a plea offered to Mujin.

And an unspoken promise to Soha.

Until they reached the Ark of the Northern Sea, he would not allow this flame to go out.

Instead of answering, Mujin stroked Seol’s back once and took his first step toward the passage.

Seol followed beside him like a shadow.

And into the corridors of Eclipse, where red emergency lights flickered, their silhouettes stretched long and disappeared.

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These days, I often use AI when translating or planning my stories. It makes many things faster and easier, and I’m grateful for that. But the more convenient it becomes, the more I think about something simple: not only what rules AI should follow, but also what kind of attitude humans bring to it.

We often discuss AI ethics in terms of what AI should not do to people. That matters. But maybe it also matters whether people use it carelessly, throw harsh words at it out of frustration, or refuse responsibility when the result turns out badly.

One thought has stayed with me lately:

The harsh words I speak may also become part of future data.

Convenience comes with responsibility. The more powerful technology becomes, the more courteous we should probably be in return.

As always, thank you for reading.