GHDDM 2

2
“I’m home.”
The moment Cheon Do-hyeon stepped inside, something felt wrong.
Normally, the sound of a heavy bag being struck would echo from the courtyard. Today, only silence filled the aging Training Hall.
“…Grandfather?”
Cheon Do-hyeon’s footsteps halted as he entered the living room. There sat his grandfather, Cheon Woo-hyeok, and his shoulders—once solid as a mountain—now looked fragile as a withered tree.
The uncanny wrongness of it made Do-hyeon move with careful steps. His grandfather looked so fragile now, as though a breath might blow him away.
“You’re home, Do-hyeon.”
The face that turned to him was hollow. Do-hyeon’s heart sank.
“Grandfather, are you unwell? We should go to the hospital… the hospital—”
The grandfather who would normally have scolded him for talking nonsense said nothing.
“Sit.”
Cheon Woo-hyeok’s voice was low but resolute—the kind you could not disobey. When Do-hyeon awkwardly took the seat across from him, his grandfather spoke calmly.
“Do-hyeon. I don’t have much time left.”
“What? That’s… don’t joke like that. You sparred with me yesterday.”
“A true martial artist knows when death approaches.”
Cheon Woo-hyeok took his grandson’s hand—calloused, weathered—but its warmth was ice-cold. Do-hyeon’s eyes reddened.
“No… I can’t… without you, I… please don’t do this.”
“Don’t cry. A son of the Cheon Clan shouldn’t shed tears.”
Cheon Woo-hyeok did not wipe away his grandson’s tears. Instead, he revealed a truth he had hidden his whole life.
“What I’m about to tell you is a secret of the Cheon Clan. First, understand this: you are not powerless.”
“…What?”
“Your inability to use magic isn’t because you’re weak. Your vessel was simply born to hold something else.”
His grandfather spoke of something almost impossible to believe: the Cheon Clan were the inheritors of a martial art extinct in the world, and Cheon Do-hyeon had been born with a Heavenly Martial Body that rejected magic.
“But what good does that do? I trained hard, and I still have no power.”
“Because we haven’t yet planted the seed.”
But planting that seed would demand a terrible price.
For generations, the Cheon Clan had performed the Inheritance Ceremony Ritual on the day an heir came of age—awakening the Dantian and transferring their inner power through sacred rite. Cheon Woo-hyeok had already performed this ceremony with his son, Cheon Song-gyeong. But that son was dead.
The Inheritance Ceremony Ritual required vast reserves of inner power, and Cheon Woo-hyeok had none left to spare for another initiation.
The bloodline of the Clan faced extinction.
Yet there was one way.
“I will pass all my life force and inner power to you. It is the only path.”
“Then what about you? You’d be dead!”
Cheon Do-hyeon shot to his feet. He couldn’t kill his only family to gain power.
“No. I don’t want this strength. I’d rather live as I am.”
“Sit down!”
Cheon Woo-hyeok’s command shook the Training Hall. For the first time, he spoke to his grandson with something close to pleading.
“Do-hyeon. This is the selfishness of an old man. My body may return to dust, but my martial art… my spirit wants to live on through you.”
“…Grandfather.”
“So accept this gift.”
Cheon Do-hyeon bowed his head. His grandfather’s gaze was so desperate he could not refuse.
—
That night, in a deep valley of a nearby mountain. Under cold moonlight, two men sat facing each other.
“Remove your shirt and sit in meditation pose.”
Cheon Woo-hyeok positioned himself behind his grandson’s back. His palms pressed against Do-hyeon’s shoulder blades, at the Mingmen point.
“Remember this: never lose consciousness. Follow the path of energy I give you. Don’t let it slip away.”
A deep hum—
Searing heat rushed in from behind.
It was like forcing molten lava through his veins—excruciating beyond measure.
“Gahhhhh!”
A scream tore from Do-hyeon’s throat. But his grandfather did not stop. He pushed the energy harder, crying out louder:
“Focus, Do-hyeon! Concentrate on the flow of your Qi!”
“Close your eyes and feel the energy. Follow the path I show you. Circulate slowly.”
A crackling, grinding sound—
Any moment he dropped his guard, consciousness threatened to scatter like ash.
A sharp snap—
Yet with superhuman will, Do-hyeon held his mind to the path of the energy.
He felt his grandfather’s inner power flowing through his body, tracing familiar routes.
As he concentrated deeper, he perceived the power moving along a specific meridian.
A deep, grinding pulse—
He traced a great spiral as though conjuring a whirlwind from within himself. And at its center lay his Dantian.
“Nngh!”
It felt as though molten lava had pooled in his belly.
Cheon Woo-hyeok watched his grandson overcome the pain and focus on circulating his Inner Energy.
A smile crossed his lips.
My proud grandson. When did you grow so sturdy, so grown? When did I stop seeing the child?
Take it! This is my life’s work!’
The volume of Inner Power he was transmitting exploded outward.
Cheon Woo-hyeok’s body withered with shocking speed.
The muscle that had been full and robust shriveled away; his skin crinkled and sagged.
And in Cheon Do-hyeon’s Dantian, a black vortex began to rage and spiral with new force.
With that, the seed was planted.
The Tae Heo Hun Won Sim Gong.
As Cheon Woo-hyeok’s life-or-death cultivation method succeeded, the fundamental technique was completed within Cheon Do-hyeon’s body.
And the completed technique spun with mad fervor, greedily devouring even the last traces of his grandfather’s remaining life force.
‘No… Grandfather…’
But Cheon Woo-hyeok, felt behind him, did not remove his hand. He poured forth everything he possessed.
In the torrent of vast life force and Inner Power that flooded through him, Cheon Do-hyeon slowly lost consciousness.
How much time had passed?
When Cheon Do-hyeon opened his eyes, dawn mist hung thick in the air.
“Gasp!”
The moment his eyes opened, he felt a world transformed from what had been before.
Every sense across his body had awakened with razor sharpness. The chirping of insects, the whisper of wind—
The world he had seen in 1080P clarity had shifted to 8K resolution.
And that was far from all. Gravity seemed to have vanished; his body felt weightless, and every fiber thrummed with barely contained strength.
But there was no time to revel in it.
“Grandfather?!”
Cheon Do-hyeon turned his head slowly.
There sat Cheon Woo-hyeok.
Cross-legged in meditation posture, his head bowed low.
He looked every inch a warrior lost in profound contemplation.
“Grandfather…?”
There was no answer.
A body already cold and still.
Stiffened like stone, he wore a smile even in that final moment.
Was it the peace of knowing he had left everything to his grandson?
With trembling hands, Cheon Do-hyeon embraced his grandfather’s gaunt shoulders.
No tears came.
Instead, deep within his chest, a burning coal of heat rose up and seized him.
A note fell from his grandfather’s robes.
[Do-hyeon. The Secret Book rests in the safe in the inner chamber. The password is your birthday.]
[You are not alone. I will always be within you… so live without restraint.]
Cheon Do-hyeon bowed before his grandfather’s remains—a deep, formal bow.
Until his forehead touched the earth and blood came.
And when he lifted his head,
his eyes were no longer those of a frail boy.
“Yes. Please watch over me.”
The Qi Light kindling in Cheon Do-hyeon’s gaze split through the dawn darkness.
“I will live without restraint.”