Chapter – 47
On the pavilion opposite Hwachungji, overlooking the arena and the crowd,
Cheongmyeong, the shaman, leaned on the railing and spoke.
“Nothing to see here.”
Cheongyeon’s hair swayed in the wind.
“The winner of that match will be your opponent in the next round, right?”
“Technically, it’s the round after next.”
Cheongmyeong gestured toward the arena below.
“The big-headed guy on the left is the Huangsu from Yukjeonbang, and the smaller one is Kang… something from Heukryonggang. Kyu? Gu? Anyway, that’s them.”
He rested his arm on the railing with a bored expression.
“As expected, coming here was pointless. At this level, even if someone advances, they’re hardly worth biting into.”
Cheongyeon said nothing.
Normally, she would insist that no matter who the opponent is, one must give their all. But the match was far too poor.
It was hard to believe that these people had even passed the regional preliminaries and continued winning in the main tournament.
Was the gap between the Gupa-ilbang and regular sects really this wide?
Cheongmyeong turned his back fully and leaned against the pavilion railing.
“By the way, it seems the Changcheon Divine Dragon didn’t participate. Judging by the rumors, it felt like the winner had already been decided.”
Cheongmyeong continued casually.
“Rumors are just rumors, after all…”
“If he were truly only a rumor, would Namgung have acknowledged his existence?”
Cheongmyeong turned toward Cheongyeon, nodding in agreement.
“Exactly. Why would such proud people do that otherwise? To expose their flaws?”
“What do you mean?”
“Since their headquarters were burned down, they can’t deny it ever happened. So maybe they fabricated a story just to distract attention.”
“You’re saying Namgung created a fictional person to protect their pride?”
Cheongmyeon took a step back from Cheongyeon’s suddenly raised tone.
“Well, maybe not entirely fictional, but certainly exaggerated.”
He looked back at the arena.
“We’re different from them. We’re martial artists from Gupa-ilbang, recognized for our talent and trained in the best environment. And yet, these kids supposedly defeated one of the great Namgung heirs single-handedly? You know as well as I do that’s impossible.”
“······”
At that moment, the match below finally ended.
The referee announced the winner, and the crowd applauded from the stands.
“······”
Cheongyeon quietly walked into the pavilion. Cheongmyeong shrugged and followed her.
Pausing briefly at the doorway, he glanced back at the arena.
“Thank you! Thank you!”
Nothing noteworthy, from insignificant people producing insignificant results.
Cheongmyeong smirked and disappeared into the pavilion.
“Heukryonggang’s Geumhwamun. Kang Gu, winner!”
The victor, Kang Gu, glanced up at the pavilion.
The two people who had been catching his attention all match had disappeared.
They were the ones who had treated him like a conman at the inn where the beggar grandfather came looking for him.
Coincidentally, the man had been his opponent two rounds later. Probably here to spy—annoying people in any case.
They were surprisingly strong for martial artists, so he had to be cautious with misdirection.
“Hey, congrats! You managed to win again today!”
The crowd applauded Kang Gu, celebrating his victory. Regardless of how it happened, he continued producing results, and they appreciated that.
Unlike other competitors who acted aloof after winning, he always smiled brightly, which made him even more likable.
“Thank you! Thank you!”
Descending the steps with his usual bows, Kang Gu froze.
Someone had pushed through the crowd to reach him.
It was Yeodongwan.
A persistent man, like steel cables.
‘Ah… what do I do now.’
There was no excuse to run anymore. Of course, he could outrun him, but then he wouldn’t have held back from the start.
The boss had said: at a crucial moment, conceal your full strength as much as possible to avoid attracting attention.
Yeodongwan calmly stepped in front of him.
“Even after taking all those hits, there isn’t a scratch on your skin. As always.”
Kang Gu smiled awkwardly.
“Haha… I’ve always been tough, I guess…”
Then it happened.
『I know you are hiding your power.』
“···!”
Hearing the voice shook Kang Gu’s eyes. Too many people were listening.
He had to act quickly. The best option was to finish it in one decisive move, like a few days ago, before anyone noticed.
A large vein rose on the back of his hand.
『For whatever reason, I have no intention of using this as leverage.』
Yeodongwan spoke aloud.
“Today will be the last time. If you tell me to leave, I won’t come back.”
Unexpected words.
“You really mean you’ll leave if I tell you to?”
“I have no intention of causing you trouble.”
Genuine sincerity shone in his eyes.
“······”
The vein in Kang Gu’s fist relaxed.
“Sir, I mean… could you just watch me swing my sword once?”
Yeodongwan nodded excitedly. Despite having a master in Hyeoncheonmun, he had been told at age ten that there was nothing more to teach him.
He had always had to learn and awaken on his own.
It was the first time in his life that he had met someone stronger than himself.
Someone so overwhelmingly skilled that he could not even imagine competing.
“Hmm.”
Kang Gu scratched his cheek.
It wasn’t difficult. In hindsight, he thought, he had been avoiding this unnecessarily.
Moreover, talking to Yeodongwan, he liked something about him.
Even though he could have threatened Kang Gu with leverage, he never mentioned it once. Even to the very end.
‘Today will be the last time. If you tell me to leave, I won’t come back.’
Even if he didn’t get what he wanted, he didn’t intend to make life difficult for the other person. That was impressive.
“Yes. Sure. It’s not difficult at all.”
“···!”
Yeodongwan’s breath caught at how easily he was accepted. Perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime moment.
He quickly removed his coat and scabbard.
Yeodongwan’s sect, Hyeoncheonmun, specialized in the Taheomu Yeongsimbeop (Great Void Martial Spirit Mind Method), Lotus Step, and Suramachineonok Sword.
The names sounded impressive, but like many minor sects, they were essentially basic techniques with minor modifications.
At around age ten, he had been devastated upon discovering a similar low-grade Suramachineonok Sword in the marketplace.
The master had claimed it was learned from a rare expert at great cost. He still believed it. Trusting by nature.
Yeodongwan, however, persevered, researching and improving the so-called third-rate techniques, enduring grueling training to achieve his current level. A natural prodigy even glimpsing the potential of a grandmaster.
“Phew.”
He exhaled deeply, pouring thirty years of passion and effort into his sword.
The blade was sharp, his footwork dazzling. Despite the marketplace origins, the technique now shone with skill.
After a long time, Yeodongwan finally finished, stabilizing his breath.
He looked at Kang Gu, tense, awaiting judgment.
Kang Gu opened his mouth. Yeodongwan focused all his attention.
Unexpected words came.
“Oh? This is similar to what I learned.”
“Huh?”
“I only studied these three techniques until recently. My elders said they’re enough to build a foundation.”
“What do you mean…”
Kang Gu tilted his head.
“But strangely, there are things here that weren’t there before.”
“Things that weren’t there?”
“Yes.”
Kang Gu mimicked Yeodongwan’s movements with gestures.
“Here, here… here, here… and again here.”
“······”
As Kang Gu said, the original Sajae Sword techniques had only three forms: Taesan Apjeong, Palbang Pungwoo, and Hoengso Cheongun. Big names, but really just vertical, diagonal, and horizontal swings.
Yeodongwan had added his own insights, leaving the original forms almost unrecognizable.
“Strange… why did it become like this?”
“······”
Kang Gu waved his hands slowly.
“You didn’t just want me to watch, right?”
“Huh?”
“May I say something?”
“Oh… o-of course…”
Kang Gu continued.
“I don’t know why it changed like this, but there’s too much unnecessary movement. It feels unnatural overall.”
Yeodongwan’s pupils trembled. He had been proud—after defeating Cheongseong’s branch in the preliminaries, his pride had peaked.
The real reason he had asked Kang Gu to watch his sword might have been connected to this.
He wanted to show, “Look. I achieved so much even with this mediocre technique. Am I not a genius?”
But at that moment, Kang Gu negated all of that.
“You need to remove the excess. Like tending a fire.”
“Fire…?”
“Oh, my grandpa O said that. It’s like… instead of thinking ‘do this here, then that there,’ just swing. No thinking. Just swing, really.”
Kang Gu was explaining the concept of muse-muso (no thought, no intention) that every martial artist knows.
“Empty your mind.”
His hands slowly crossed left and right—Hoengso Cheongun, a horizontal sweep. Even such a simple motion conveyed profound subtlety.
Then from above, he slashed downward.
“Calculate your opponent’s moves, yes. But…”
The downward strike naturally flowed into a diagonal one.
“Trust the limbs you’ve trained all this time for your body’s movements.”
The horizontal sweep ended at the center.
“Just like that. Simply.”
No thought, no ego.
“······”
Yeodongwan swung again as if possessed, discarding all the complexities he thought he had mastered. The sword moved naturally, footwork honest, basic steps tracing the bamboo leaves.
Simply.
From a single word, he felt an overwhelming revelation.
The sword found its own path, power naturally increased.
The chaotic swordplay of Yeodongwan gradually stabilized.
This was the state of no-self.
The fabled unity of body and sword.
“!!”
Yeodongwan swung relentlessly, all else vanished. Only sword and self remained.
A pungent stench emanated from him. His white robe blackened; the sun set, the moon rose.
By midnight, he collapsed on his knees.
“How can I ever repay this debt of gratitude!”
Kang Gu watched calmly.
“Nothing has changed, really.”
“···Huh?”
“Your body is just a little lighter. That’s it.”
Kang Gu took Yeodongwan’s wrist from behind, guiding his arms like a puppet.
“Try this. No, like this. No, this way.”
One hour.
“Is this even possible? Are you joking?”
“······”
Two hours.
“I said relax your strength! Why can’t you do this? Seriously?”
“······”
By three hours, the sword in Kang Gu’s hands soared three feet higher than Yeodongwan’s, the difference in density and power obvious.
“Try again.”
“······”
By sunrise, Yeodongwan finally looked at his sword with exhilaration.
He fell flat to the ground in gratitude.
“Sir! How can I ever repay this debt of gratitude!”
He had expected some gain, but not this immense a result.
He bowed deeply to Kang Gu.
“I already have a master, so I cannot serve two. But I will honor you as my lifelong benefactor. Call upon me anytime. I will never forget this favor, even in death.”
“Benefactor? You just worked hard, that’s all.”
“······”
As a martial artist, he had received an unrepayable favor. Added to that, his hard work had not been in vain. Pride surged in his heart.
Yeodongwan could not lift his head from gratitude.
“Of course, if you really want to repay me, there is a way.”
“!”
Yeodongwan lifted his head. Kang Gu made a circle with thumb, index, and middle fingers.
“There’s a way. Yes.”
“······”
