Forging the Sang San Native Sword
Suddenly, the old man started groping my body, leaving me flustered at first, but I quickly regained my composure.
'Hmm. Looks like the conditions are met.' It was proof that I'd fulfilled the requirements to learn the Sang San Native Sword.
Mastering the Sang San Native Sword required specific conditions. My stamina, agility, and strength stats had to reach a certain level.
Why don't I know the exact numbers?
'The game devs never properly explained them.' Yeah, it was that classic god game syndrome developers fall into. They think, If we make a god-tier game, players will figure it out themselves and do the research—what a great idea!
Ugh. But since no one delved that deep into the game, it stayed some unknown variable.
I was a hardcore player, so I could've researched it myself... but honestly, I never went that deep. I just played for fun. No skills in cracking console codes or anything.
Still, from grinding multiple playthroughs and big data, I knew roughly: strength, agility, and stamina all needed to exceed 60. You had to grind battles hard to pump up those combat stats.
Notably, there were no requirements for swordsmanship or other martial skill proficiency. Just strength, agility, and stamina. Pure physical prowess for the Sang San Native Sword.
Grope, grope.
Then the Sang San Zhao clan elder kneaded my hands.
"Hmm. You've swung a sword diligently. Calluses thick as iron."
The elder nodded approvingly.
"And your eyes. The gaze of one accustomed to cutting down men. The eyes of a killer and conqueror."
He studied my eyes and nodded again.
"Hmm. Young man, no thoughts of growing even stronger?"
The elder grinned and made his offer right away.
Jackpot. Worth the trip to Sang San.
"It would be my honor if you'd teach me."
I cupped my fists in a bao quan salute.
"Um... Elder! The funeral first, please."
That's when Zhao Yun cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Ah, right. Everyone, come this way."
The elder led us to the largest building in the village.
Incense smoke billowed thick inside. The body in the coffin would be buried tomorrow, he said.
"Mother..."
A faint tear escaped Zhao Yun's usually stoic eyes.
I bowed my head quietly and lit incense.
The rites differed a bit from modern funerals, but Yong-hwa beside me guided us smoothly.
'Yeah, Yong-hwa's the pampered jewel of a top Xiongnu clan. She knows all these formalities cold.'
After the simple memorial,
"Kim Gong, thank you. To come for my mother's funeral when we've only just met... You're as kind as ever."
Zhao Yun smiled brightly, wiping her tears.
"Comrades fighting together in the martial world are like siblings, aren't we?"
I grinned back.
That line triggered it...
Zhao Yun (Zilong)'s affinity has risen.
Affinity: 80
Status changed to Devotion.
Perfect. Zhao Yun's affinity hit devotion. Now it wouldn't drop easily. Even if factions changed later, our bond would hold.
Oh, side note: System screwery? Me, Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei were at 90—sworn siblings. I kept my distance, but the status window decided otherwise.
Affinity secured with Zhao Yun. Learn Sang San Native Sword here for a few days, then head to Chang'an.
"We've been waiting!!"
Leaving the mourning house, the Sang San Zhao clan elder and others stood ready, wooden weapons in hand.
"Kim!! Shall you learn the martial arts passed down through generations in our Sang San Zhao clan—the Sang San Native Sword?"
The elder beamed.
"What? Sword training even here?"
Bu Yong-hwa looked exasperated. No, to survive, I had to get stronger however I could.
"Seriously, you love moving that body of yours. I'll clean our lodging for a few days' stay first."
Bu Yong-hwa kissed me and scampered off.
Despite the teasing, my heart warmed at my wife's consideration.
"Elder, Kim Gong traveled far. He should rest."
Zhao Yun said, flustered.
"Hmm. Ask Kim himself. But I see the eyes of a beast hungry to grow stronger."
The elder eyed me.
"Kim Gong."
Zhao Yun looked my way.
"And to become a son-in-law of our Sang San Zhao clan, you must be that strong—or it's no good."
The elder suddenly smirked slyly.
"Wh-what?! Elder!! What are you saying?!"
Zhao Yun flushed crimson.
No, drop that joke and it gets awkward.
"Zhao Yun's ideal man is surely a strong warrior worthy of respect. Heh heh."
The elder kept rolling out the forced ship bait with a grin!
"Elder...!!!"
Zhao Yun, embarrassed beyond control, punched nearby logs—bang bang!
Crack!!
But it wasn't just shy flailing. The logs shattered and scattered. What kind of monstrous body is that? Terrifying.
"Just kidding."
The elder straightened his face.
"Seriously..."
Zhao Yun brushed sawdust from her fist and bowed her head sharply.
"While we're here, could you train our other comrades too?"
I glanced at the Kim Squad behind me.
"Ah... Hmm. They're... borderline, but qualified enough."
Surprisingly, the Kim Squad met the conditions.
"Especially that one there, the bronze-skinned Xiongnu with bangs covering her forehead—she shows promise."
The elder pointed to Dong Zhuo—wait, Mok Lan? No: Dong Zhuo is Mok Lan, but text: 동탁과 관해, 구력거, 그리고 춘설 — Mok Lan (formerly Dong Zhuo), Guan He, ? Gu Ligeo? Glossary: Guan He (관해), Chun Seol (춘설), and Dong Tak? Dong Zhuo is Mok Lan (목란).
Wait, text: 동탁과 관해, 구력거 — Dong Tak (Dong Zhuo/Mok Lan), Guan He, Gu Rikgeo? Probably Gwang Yeom or something, but use as is. Glossary has Guan He, Chun Seol.
Dong Zhuo/Mok Lan, Guan He, that bronze one, and Chun Seol.
Mok Lan, Guan He, the powerhouse were expected as top squad members. But Chun Seol?
'Well, Chun Seol's surprisingly agile.' Her speed shocked me. When I tried peeking past her bangs, she'd slip into my blind spot lightning-fast, hiding half her face.
'What's her deal...' She knew shady fences for stolen goods too well.
Agile body... connections to black market dealers... increasingly suspicious.
'Thief...? Nah.' Everyone's got a past. No need to dig. Bandits aplenty anyway.
"The rest lack sufficient strength. But basic conditioning? Sure."
The elder signaled, summoning other Sang San Zhao clansmen.
"Then let's train together!!"
"Young blood in our old village!!"
Everyone buzzed with excitement.
'Ah, total rural dojo vibe.' I knew from my kendo days in the countryside. Newbie at 3rd dan level—veteran central. First time there, folks were thrilled. But I got wrecked in spars. Still, skills shot up fast...
Sang San Zhao villagers were the same. No youths, no one to teach. Then fresh newbies like us show up—party time.
"Okay! Looking forward to it!"
I shouted loud.
"Okay...? What's that mean?"
The elder shook his head.
"Ah. Means 'very good.'"
Whoops, English slipped out.
"Hmm. Fine then. Now..."
The elder hopped down.
"Hup."
He drew a massive wooden sword—man-sized.
No, "sword"? Just a thick log with a handle.
"First, feel the weight. Smash these log dummies with this huge club to get used to it."
He demonstrated, leaning into position.
"A weapon's an extension of the body, but not the body itself. Can't adapt to weight as simply as a limb. Swing this heavy wooden sword to feel the weapon's mass with your whole body."
Yes. Basic Sang San Native Sword training.
Comic-book simple, but proven in many arts. Heavy wooden sword drills fixed posture surprisingly well. Kendo does it; high-level like Shinkage-ryu too. Swing heavy blade freely? Proper form inevitable. Repeat? It sticks.
"Land effective strikes with the wooden sword, and I'll teach real techniques."
"Got it!!"
"Oh. Zhao Yun, sorry. Wish you could chat leisurely with Kim Gong."
The elder teased our forced ship again.
"Elder!! Really!!"
Zhao Yun scowled.
Yeah, Yong-hwa hears this, fireworks.
After that, me and the Kim Squad dove into training. Felt like sports manga summer boot camp.
Whoosh!! Thwack!! Whoosh. Thwack.
Simple cycle: heavy wooden sword on dummies.
'Game was QTE... Reality's brutal.' Just tap in-game; real swings? Exhausting, tedious.
Whoooosh!! Whoosh!! Whooooosh!!!
When does this end? Elder says "pass," then next stage.
Meanwhile, in Chang'an.
"This is Cai Yong, the one who fawned over Dong Zhuo!!!"
Minister Wang Yun bellowed at the old man bound and hung in the market.
"Wrote a poem for Dong Zhuo over one funeral feast—enjoyed that, did you!!"
"Hah!! Ink-stained wretch!!!"
Crowds hurled rotten fruit and stones, jeering.
Cai Yong, famed scholar, hung for a poem praising Dong Zhuo.
After ousting Dong Zhuo, Wang Yun—seething with hatred—targeted him first for execution.
"I'm no tyrant like Dong Zhuo; won't execute immediately. Confess your crimes in detail, judged justly in a month."
Wang Yun ordered soldiers to drag Cai Yong away.
Amid the murmuring throng, one elegant beauty wept.
"Father..."
Cai Yan, Cai Yong's daughter—talented poetess renowned across Chang'an.