"Hmm?" Rising from his seat, Ungeom squinted at the bright light streaming in through the window.
"These brats."
The rules of the Volcano Sect were quite strict.
In the past, during the days when the master-disciple relationship was passed down, a disciple had to rise earlier than their master, wake them up, greet them, and prepare breakfast.
Times had changed, and such relationships were no longer maintained, but those in the Baekmaegwan were still expected to take turns waking up the owner, Ungeom, and greeting him.
Yet today, no one had come to greet him.
"Hah. These brats."
After a while of letting them off the hook, they had become lazy.
Ungeom frowned and stood up.
The fact that no one had come to greet him did not mean that only those who were supposed to greet him were still asleep.
If someone had been awake, they would have woken the others.
It meant that all the children in Baekmaegwan were still lost in slumber.
"Come to think of it."
He recalled that a new child had entered Baekmaegwan yesterday.
"These brats again..."
Ungeom narrowed his eyes slightly.
He already knew that the children were engaging in some strange initiation rituals.
As a master, he should put a stop to it, but it was also important for children living together to have their own bonds.
Although that brat, Jogol, would stir up trouble without knowing when to stop, as long as Yoonjong was around, he could tidy things up before any major issues arose.
However, the fact that no one had come to greet him on time might indicate that yesterday's welcoming ceremony had been a bit too wild.
Ungeom furrowed his brow and quickly changed his clothes.
Dressed in his robe and with a sword at his waist, he hurriedly opened the door and stepped outside.
"First, I need to give them a good scolding."
Ungeom's determined steps headed toward Baekmaegwan.
The moment he caught sight of the building, he thought to shout and wake the children lost in sleep as he turned the corner.
"Ga..."
Just as he was about to shout "Go!" loudly, Ungeom inhaled sharply and stopped, unable to let the words escape his lips.
At the same time, his eyes widened in shock.
"What, what is this?" He rubbed his eyes with his hand.
A bizarre scene unfolded before him.
"What is this? Hell?" For a moment, a strange thought crossed his mind, but Ungeom quickly regained his senses.
This was the Volcano! Therefore, the scene unfolding before him was also happening in the Volcano.
But he could not understand why such a sight was occurring.
It couldn't be that he was seeing things, could it? Rubbing his eyes again, Ungeom blinked and looked at the scene once more.
But nothing had changed.
"Uh..."
Not knowing how to react, Ungeom let out an awkward groan, and despairing moans reached his ears.
"Ugh... Ugh!"
"Oh dear... I'm dying. Oh dear."
"Mom... Take me home."
Ungeom stared blankly at the children who were moaning. "..."
Were these truly the children he knew? Children were often like that.
Sometimes their ignorance could bring trouble, and their cunning could lead to disappointment.
But children who retained their innocence had a liveliness that warmed the hearts of those who saw them.
Yet, there was not a trace of liveliness in the children before him.
"What happened to these kids?" Where had the fluffy children he knew gone? Only ragged, pitiful-looking kids were sprawled around.
Ungeom looked around in shock.
"Ugh..."
"I'm dying... Really dying."
As he examined the faces of the children rolling on the ground, Ungeom blinked.
"They seem to be my disciples?" They had certainly deteriorated quite a bit, but those darkened figures were undoubtedly his disciples, the young ones residing in Baekmaegwan.
"What on earth did they do?" What kind of training could turn children who were fluffy just yesterday into such a state overnight? Surrounding the ragged children were wooden swords and bags scattered about.
What could that be? Ungeom realized what he needed to do.
If there were limits to his guesses, there was no need to rack his brain.
There were over a hundred mouths here that could solve his curiosity.
"W-What on earth is going on?" As soon as he opened his mouth, heads turned in unison.
The children who had been groaning on the floor all looked at Ungeom.
The eyes of the half-dead children sparkled with life!
"Master!"
"Master!"
"Great One!"
The last phrase sounded a bit strange, but there was no doubt that the children were welcoming him enthusiastically.
They seemed on the verge of bursting into tears.
It was a rare sight for him, whose duty was to control the children.
No, it was so rare that he felt it was the first time he had ever seen them welcome him so fervently.
"Sniff! Master!"
"Why did you come now? Why?"
"Master, I missed you!"
What should he say? The children who had always been cautious were now welcoming him so warmly that it filled him with an odd sense of pride.
An indescribable emotion surged within him.
But soon, Ungeom shook his head.
"Ah, no."
Now was not the time to be moved by such things.
Just look at the state of the children.
Their appearances were covered in dirt and sweat, as if they had been through a war.
Seeing their pitifully trembling limbs made Ungeom's stomach churn.
"What on earth happened here?" The children, who seemed about to cling to him and cry, suddenly fell silent when he asked.
They merely glanced back furtively.
"Are they looking for something?" Ungeom's gaze followed the children's eyes.
There sat Jogol, slumped over with his mouth agape.
"Jogol?"
"... No. Behind him."
"Behind?" The gaze fixed on Jogol shifted further back.
"That, that kid?" Ungeom's eyes widened even more, defying the limits of what he thought possible.
"A new arrival?" Wasn't that the one called Cheongmyeong? But what was he doing now? Ungeom tilted his head.
Cheongmyeong was doing something strange.
He had a wooden sword slung over his shoulder, and several large bags were hanging from it.
"What are those bags?"
"Earth bags."
"... Why earth bags?" He asked, but he already had a feeling he knew the answer.
Look at that.
Among the ragged ones, the one who stood out as particularly thin was struggling to balance the bags that were bigger than his head.
"Huuuuuh."
Even Ungeom felt his body tense up and sweat at the sight.
He looked like he was about to collapse, trembling as he managed to keep his balance.
Thud.
Thud.
Sweat dripped down his chin.
His entire body was so drenched in sweat that it seemed to be steaming.
"Is he going to die like this?" Watching his bright red face, the bulging veins, and his twisted features made Ungeom involuntarily tense up.
"That looks tough."
There was no one more resolute than him when it came to expressing hardship.
Cheongmyeong straightened his body, letting out a groan, and bent down again.
"You're going to die, you fool!" Ungeom was not a lenient person.
In fact, he was someone who pursued strict training more than anyone else.
The more iron is hammered, the harder it becomes, and the more a person trains, the stronger they grow.
If his disciples were undergoing tough training, he would not only refrain from stopping them but would also applaud them.
But even for Ungeom, what Cheongmyeong was enduring now was beyond reason.
"No, then the reason these kids look like ragged beggars is...?" Did they end up like this after training together?
"Master! Please save us!"
"We're going to die like this."
Now that he thought about it, the children were drenched in sweat.
It felt like they had put on clothes that had just been washed without drying them.
Thinking that the dampness was all sweat sent chills down his spine.
"So they weren't all asleep?" Did they end up like this after training since dawn?
"... Since when have you been like this?"
"Since the hour of the rabbit."
You mean they had been like this for over an hour?
"... Why?" It was a natural question, but no one answered.
They only wore expressions that seemed to say, "If we say that, we'll die."
"Could it be?" No, it couldn't be.
That was impossible.
How could that be? The children here were the three great disciples of the Volcano.
Even if the Volcano was not what it used to be, they were still those who practiced martial arts.
Among the three great disciples, there were many who had been learning for over five years.
Compared to those who had not learned martial arts, they were undoubtedly superior.
Yet, those kids were unable to handle just one small child and ended up in this state? "Wait a moment."
Among the three great disciples, Jogol, who was relatively well-regarded and known for his skills, was now lying on the ground, barely breathing.
What about Yoonjong? Ungeom's eyes quickly searched for the great disciple, Yoonjong.
"Huh..."
A figure that seemed to be Yoonjong lay sprawled on the ground.
"Why is he like that?" While Jogol still maintained some semblance of a human form, Yoonjong looked almost unrecognizable.
His face was buried in the dirt, with only his rear slightly raised, gasping for breath.
Seeing Yoonjong like that made Ungeom feel a pang of sadness, almost to the point of tears.
"That..."
Ungeom opened his mouth but then closed it again.
"No, it's fine to train."
Now he understood what had happened.
Looking at Cheongmyeong made it clear.
The children had undoubtedly come out at dawn to do strength training.
Although the Volcano was known for its speed and flamboyance in swordsmanship, basic strength training was also practiced.
After all, the foundation of all martial arts begins with the body.
"But what kind of training could turn perfectly fine children into such a state in just one hour?" Ungeom raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Glancing around, he saw the children looking at him with bright eyes.
There was hope and faith that he would resolve this situation.
"Don't give me those eyes in that state."
It was genuinely burdensome.
"Cough, cough."
Clearing his throat to calm himself, Ungeom turned his gaze to Cheongmyeong.
First, he needed to understand what was happening.
Deciding how to react could come later.
"Bring that child here."
The moment the owner of Baekmaegwan, Ungeom, firmly lodged the name "Cheongmyeong" in his mind, he had no idea that this name would become the most important name in his life.