87. Heart Drenched by Drizzle

The day Baek Wolhui returned to Heukwoon-gwan was bright and sunny. She blended into the crowd with her usual radiant charm, cracking jokes effortlessly, as if nothing had happened.

"I didn't know Heukwoon-gwan would get so dull without me! I wonder how you all survived without me," she said with a playful grin. Her voice rang out with a familiar energy, trying to breathe life back into the halls.

Han Soyeon smiled and replied, "Wolhui-nim, I'm so glad you're back. We all really missed you." She gently patted Wolhui's back, conveying her sincerity. Though Wolhui returned her smile, Soyeon sensed something hollow behind it.

Watching from a distance, Miryeong tilted her head. She noticed the loneliness hidden behind Wolhui's faint smile and the slight trembling of her fingers—signs of someone struggling to mask their true self. Still, Miryeong said nothing. She decided to wait until Wolhui could acknowledge her own emptiness.

That evening, Heukwoon-gwan's training grounds bustled with life once more. Laughter and chatter filled the space as trainees gathered in small groups. In the center was Wolhui, smiling brightly, though her joy felt just a bit hollow.

Soyeon stayed close to her, talking as they walked together. "There wasn't much happening here while you were gone. Just… things were a little too quiet." She looked closely at Wolhui's face. "Are you really okay? You seem a little different since coming back."

Wolhui gently shook her head. "Don't worry, Soyeon. Now that I'm back, everything will be back on track." She smiled again, but Soyeon couldn't shake the feeling that something in her was shaking too.

The next day, Wolhui led sparring sessions with the trainees. Her directions were sharp, and she offered praise and encouragement just like always. But her voice trembled slightly, and she could feel it. Since meeting her mother, a weight had settled in her chest that she couldn't ignore.

After training, Wolhui slipped away to the quiet garden behind the hall. Under the swaying trees and the clear blue sky, she sat down and hugged her knees.

"Why did I need to become so strong…?" she whispered. The letter from her mother, filled with affection and concern, had stirred bittersweet feelings. She tried to recall the softness in her mother's voice, but what echoed louder was the harshness she endured as a student.

"Wolhui, so you're here," came Lee Dohyeon's voice. He approached with a faint smile and a concerned look. "Don't push yourself too hard. Taking a break is okay."

She forced a smile. "Just needed a little air. Don't worry about me."

Dohyeon sat beside her without saying much. He stayed there quietly, as if waiting for her to speak first. His silent presence was oddly comforting.

Unexpectedly, Wolhui felt tears streaming down her cheeks. Startled, she tried to wipe them away, but Dohyeon gently pulled her into a comforting embrace. That simple gesture broke the dam, and she began to sob.

"I thought I was fine, Dohyeon… but I guess I wasn't." Her voice trembled as years of bottled-up pain poured out.

Just then, Soyeon and Miryeong quietly approached. Soyeon handed her a handkerchief. "Wolhui-nim, here." Her voice was gentle and warm. Wolhui took it, wiping her tears as a small smile flickered on Soyeon's lips.

Miryeong, standing a little farther off, nodded to herself. "Sometimes letting it out like this is the best thing."

Cheong Unjin walked up, arms wide open. "Wolhui! Let's stay strong together. We're a family, right?" He wrapped them all—Wolhui, Dohyeon, Soyeon, and Miryeong—into one big hug. In that moment, warmth and unity filled the space.

Wrapped in their arms, Wolhui realized she was no longer alone. Though they were all different, their hearts beat as one. These people were her true family.

She wiped her tears and looked up. Holding Soyeon's handkerchief tightly, she smiled. "Thank you… truly, everyone."

"It's nothing, Wolhui-nim," Soyeon replied with a gentle smile.

Wolhui stood up, took a deep breath, and looked around at her friends one by one. She felt her heart slowly being filled. These people were the family she had always needed.

"What are you all doing?" she said cheerfully. "Just because I cried a little doesn't mean we all have to get gloomy."

Laughter burst forth once again, and the energy of the training hall returned. Though she still carried a hollow part within, Wolhui felt it slowly begin to heal.

Dohyeon gently tapped her shoulder. "Wolhui, we'll all grow stronger together. You're not alone." His voice held steady strength, and Wolhui nodded, reaffirming her resolve.

She silently vowed: no matter her past wounds, she wasn't alone here—and she would fight for the ideals of Heukwoon-gwan. The silent love and unity from her comrades made her heart stronger than ever.

As she stepped back into the hall, Wolhui knew she was ready to protect everyone once more. Her reunion with her mother had left her both hurt and empowered, and now she stood even stronger.

***

The Birth of the Black Cloud Sword Art

The starlight above softly lit the rear courtyard of Heukwoon-gwan. Lee Dohyeon sat quietly in a secluded corner, the Ego Sword resting on his lap. A cold breeze brushed through his hair, and countless stars twinkled in the night sky. But his gaze remained fixed on the sword in his hands, reflecting faint light and an even fainter presence within.

This sword was not a mere tool. It was a living entity—one that chose its wielder and harbored a will of its own. It had given him immense power more than once, but always with a price. The will embedded in the blade seemed to gnaw at his body and mind in exchange.

"Why are you so quiet today?" Dohyeon muttered, brushing his fingers along the blade. Normally, the spirit within would've interrupted by now—mocking his laziness or nagging about practicing new techniques. But tonight was different. The silence was heavy, as if the blade was waiting for a decision.

When he gripped the sword, a rush of energy surged through him, trailing from his arm throughout his body—a heavy pressure, almost like a test. The sword's will suddenly entered his consciousness.

"You've grown... a little," it said, the voice calm but filled with weight.

Dohyeon looked down at the blade. "You always tell me to become stronger. But why? What's your true goal?"

The sword's spirit paused. Then, it replied, "My purpose is simple. To finish my task in this world and return to my origin—to be reborn through a new host. You are merely the key to that purpose."

Dohyeon frowned. "So I'm just a tool to you."

The voice laughed. "And am I not a tool to you as well? We need each other. If you want to grow stronger, accept what I offer."

It continued, "Tonight, I will pass on a new set of techniques—skills once wielded by my former master. They go beyond simple martial arts."

Images and sensations flashed into Dohyeon's mind. The sword pulsed with energy, sharing not just knowledge but instinct.

1. **Flow of Emptiness** – A technique to sever the flow of an opponent's inner energy and reverse it.

2. **Wings of the Fire Phoenix** – Not just flames for destruction, but for dominating the rhythm of battle.

3. **Thunderstorm Strike** – A high-speed, pinpoint assault to penetrate the opponent's guard.

4. **Awakening of the Sword Soul** – Total synchronization between user and sword spirit, enhancing intuition and reflexes to their peak.

When the vision ended, the spirit warned him, "These techniques require deep training. But remember, they exist not for destruction—but for your ideals."

"I'll accept them," Dohyeon replied, gripping the sword, "but if you ever try to take me over—I won't hesitate to fight back."

"Then let's see if your will can surpass mine," the spirit said, fading back into silence.

Later that night, Dohyeon stood again with the sword in hand, reflecting on the synthesis of everything he had learned. His past battles, his purpose, the techniques he'd absorbed from many masters. They all pointed toward one truth—flow. It all began and ended with flow.

With steady movements, he linked techniques: Flow of Emptiness into Fire Phoenix, into Thunderstorm Strike, into his own evasive footwork, ending in Sword Soul Awakening. It was seamless. For the first time, he wasn't replicating what was taught. He was creating.

He laughed. "Just like the protagonists in wuxia novels. Naming your own martial art. Guess I'm doing it now."

He raised the sword and declared, "Black Cloud Sword Art. From now on, this name will carry my ideals."

The sword pulsed in response, a bright glow emanating from the blade.

The spirit whispered one final thought. "You've stepped closer to me. What comes next is your choice."

Under the starry sky, Lee Dohyeon solidified his resolve. The Black Cloud Sword Art was more than a style—it was a testament to the path he had chosen. And from here, a new history would begin.