Book 1 Chapter 1

The Beginning of Recollection

"Sway, sway! Wooong, wooong!"

A pendulum was swinging left and right. A sway that began without anyone knowing its origin… Although it seemed unconnected, it repeated only precise movements at regular intervals. However, upon closer inspection, the figure's arm and the pendulum were connected by a silver, transparent thread. A thread so thin and transparent that it would never be noticed by the eyes of a criminal. What was connected to this silver thread was not a pendulum, but a rectangular object resembling the handle of a throwing knife, intricately carved with delicate and beautiful patterns.

The entity holding the thread was a boy of extraordinary beauty. No, it was too tall to be called a boy, yet he looked too young to be an adult. Perhaps around 17 or 18 years old… Uniquely, the boy wore a black bracelet on his wrist and a matching ornament on his ankle. The boy's eyes were fixed on a solitary, ancient pine tree standing alone in the courtyard.

At one moment, the boy's shoulder twitched, and his hand extended forward. Simultaneously, the swinging pendulum flew towards the pine tree in the boy's line of sight with an unbelievably fast speed. A pinecone hung precariously from the tip of a pine branch that jutted out mournfully, and the pendulum was aiming for this very pinecone.

However, the pendulum missed the pinecone in question, veering off to the side. Honestly, considering the distance, it seemed more natural that it would miss. But in that fleeting moment, a wave-like, smooth movement was transmitted back to the boy's fingers. Then, as if guided by the boy, the pendulum circled the pinecone once. And with the severance of the only lifeline connecting the pinecone and the branch, the pinecone fell towards the ground. Even though the flying pendulum had merely circled the pinecone. It felt like magic. The silver thread, trailing from the tip of the pendulum like a comet's tail, severed the pinecone's stem with its sharpness. The initial miss was never truly a miss.

Once again, the boy's index finger twitched. At that moment, from within the pendulum, a thin, rectangular shape, a brilliant white silver blade emerged in a semicircle. Sharpness flowed along the edge of the blade. As the boy’s index finger folded inward again, as if guided by an unseen force, the silver blade of the throwing knife pierced the pinecone like a flash and embedded itself in the ground.

"Phew, success. *Chik!*"

A faint smile appeared on the boy's lips, gradually deepening into a broad grin. After long hours of hardship and practice, after years of oppression and persecution that could not be spoken of without tears, the boy had finally succeeded. Of course, it was not yet a perfect and complete success, but compared to his achievements thus far, this success was an unparalleled leap forward. So how could he not be overjoyed? However, the boy's self-congratulations were short-lived, as a sarcastic voice, as if mocking him, was heard. It came from behind the boy.

"You're still a long way off! To be so ecstatic over just one *Biraedo* (Flying Lightning Knife). How will you ever master the remaining nine? Do you plan to train your whole life, for thousands of years!"

This time, his wrist and fingers moved together. In an instant, the throwing knife pulled out of the pinecone and naturally returned to the boy's hand. As the boy, who had retrieved the throwing knife, turned around, he saw an old man holding a wine bottle in one hand and looking at the boy with narrowed eyes. This was the owner of the gruff yet sharp voice.

"Master, that's too much! Can't you celebrate your disciple's first success! How can you be so stingy…"

The boy retorted with a sullen expression. But the old man, called Master, raised the corners of his eyes to the sky and shouted.

"You rascal, Ryu Yeon! You have no respect for your aging master. Did you contribute anything to my indigestion from aging? And if your dawn training is over, shouldn't you hurry to work? Time is gold, gold!"

'Tch! My master just bosses his disciple around… Is he really my master?'

The boy wore a sullen face and repeated these thoughts countless times in his mind but could not bring himself to utter them aloud.

"Alright, alright. I'm going."

After grumbling with dissatisfaction, Bi Ryu Yeon unleashed his *Gyeonggong* (light body technique) towards the foot of the mountain and ran down at high speed. His speed was astonishing, enough to elicit admiration from any onlooker.

"Hoho, that kid. To handle the *Biraedo* this precisely already… it shouldn't be possible with my current internal energy level, how strange? Well, is it already 7 years! Time flies, haha…"

Gazing at the boy who had now become a dot on the ridge, the old man mumbled softly. Then he raised his wine bottle and pleasantly wet his lips. A smile, seemingly knowing yet unknowable, spread across his face.