Chapter 2: The Weight of Memory
(5 Years Later)
Snow crunched under tiny boots as Seo-Won dragged his wooden sword through the training yard. Dawn painted the mountains pink, but the cold still bit deep enough to numb fingers.
"Again."
Mu-Won wiped blood from his split lip, raising his practice blade. Their morning spar had left him bruised, but his glare hadn't dimmed.
Seo-Won adjusted his grip, subtly shifting his stance—just like Zoro's santoryu form from that one panel—and struck.
Crack!
Mu-Won's sword flew from his hands. He hit the ground hard, blinking up at the pale sky.
"...Cheat."
"Adapt." Seo-Won tossed an extra snowball at his brother's face. "Cold numbs pain. Use it."
A shadow fell over them.
Kwan-Ho stood at the yard's edge, arms crossed. Mu-Won scrambled up, shoulders stiff. But their father's gaze was on Seo-Won—on the way he'd pivoted mid-strike.
"Your footwork." The sect leader stepped closer. "Who taught you that angle?"
Seo-Won's pulse jumped. Shit. He'd slipped—used a stance from Nano Machine's spear forms.
"...Saw the senior disciples," he lied.
Kwan-Ho studied him for a long moment. Then—
Thwack!
The wooden sword smacked Seo-Won's ribs hard enough to bruise.
"Observation is good." His father's voice was iron. "Arrogance gets children killed."
As Kwan-Ho walked away, Mu-Won flicked a pebble at Seo-Won's knee.
"Told you."
Seo-Won rubbed his side, grinning through the pain. Worth it.
That night, while Mu-Won snored, Seo-Won crept to the archives. The candlelight danced over scrolls as he traced characters he shouldn't be able to read.
The Gathering of Ten Thousand Shadows...
His small hands trembled.
I'll rewrite fate. Even if it kills me.