Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Namgung Sparring Matches (3)
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The old man swung his sword exactly a hundred times before setting it down. His movements were remarkably swift and precise, honed by countless years of practice. But that was it.
The spacing of his steps, the weight distribution between his feet, the trajectory of his blade, the follow-through after each strike... not a single element was done right. It felt like he was just swinging the sword around without any real technique.
The old man turned to her.
"How was it?"
Cold sweat trickled down Namgung Serin's back. If anyone else had come to her with such a question, she would have told them to drop the sword and find another path without hesitation.
But this was an old man whose age was impossible to guess, and he didn't even seem like a martial artist to begin with. She couldn't bring herself to give a harsh critique to someone just swinging a sword for fun.
"Well... that is..."
The old man watched her fumbling for words, then burst into sudden, hearty laughter. It was a mischievous chuckle that belied his age.
"I know, young one. I know. You're forcing out compliments, and it's making your stomach churn, isn't it?"
"...Not exactly."
Her face betrayed that he'd hit the mark. His laughter was as light as passing clouds. Despite the decades between them, Namgung Serin couldn't help but find the old man irritatingly endearing. He stretched his arms toward the sky, loosening up.
"You looked like you had a lot on your mind, so I tossed out a little bait. At my age, you see things whether you want to or not. I'm no fortune-teller, but... shall I take a guess?"
The more she looked at him, the more absurd he seemed. Namgung Serin let out a scoffing laugh and nodded.
The old man gazed at her with eyes as clear and smooth as fine porcelain, then tossed out his guess casually.
"You're facing a big test soon, aren't you?"
Namgung Serin's eyes widened in surprise as she nodded. Was this the wisdom that came with age? The old man nodded knowingly and continued.
"Truth be told, it probably isn't that big a deal. Losing might bruise your pride, but it won't change your life. But you can't see it that way, can you? I see a fierce competitive spirit on your face. A very strong one. And not just that—there's a faint trace of fear as well."
"...Fear?"
With every casual remark from the old man, Namgung Serin felt as exposed as if she were standing naked outdoors. He saw right through her heart with unnerving ease.
In response to her reflexive question, he stated it with firm conviction. Exactly. You're afraid.
"That's right. You're definitely afraid. Not of defeat itself, but of what comes after. Friends, family, acquaintances... Do you know what sets young people like you apart?"
The old man paused. In the brief silence, she forgot to even breathe.
A tension so sharp it was unbelievable, born from nothing more than a simple conversation.
"If you want to know, I'll teach you the sword. It's embarrassing to get critiqued by someone so much younger."
The old man opted for lighthearted teasing.
The tension shattered, and Namgung Serin let out a long breath.
"What was that, seriously..."
"Huh? Are you annoyed? At someone who's lived several times your years?"
"You're the one always cracking jokes! ...Fine. I'll teach you right now, so pick it up again."
It was strange. Just yesterday, she'd been skipping meals to train obsessively with the Namgung Sparring Matches so close. Now here she was, wasting time bantering with some old man.
The truly odd part was that she didn't mind the time or resent him for it.
If her grandfather, who had passed away before she was born, were still alive, would it feel like this? Shaking off the thought, Namgung Serin adjusted the old man's grip on the sword bit by bit.
Given his skill level, the absolute basics would suffice.
"Keep your gaze fixed on your opponent, feet like this... Plant your stance firmly so you stay balanced after the swing."
"Like this?"
"Yes. You've swung it so much over the years that your body handles the motion smoothly."
"Is that so? Well, at my age, few are as hale as I am. My memory's a bit foggy, but who knows? Maybe I was once the world's greatest warrior roaming the jianghu..."
"No more jokes—move it. I'm super busy."
Busy didn't even cover it; she was already late. No time for chit-chat. The Namgung Sparring Matches were just half a month away, not a full one.
"You think you're busy, so you are."
"Even if I act relaxed, the time is still tight."
"You never yield a word, do you? I thought you were a proper young lady at first, but now I can't introduce you to my granddaughter."
"No thanks."
"Is that right? Truth is, I don't have one."
"...Pfft."
Caught off guard by his sly jab, Namgung Serin finally burst out laughing. He was truly an unpredictable old man.
That day's lesson only wrapped up as dawn began to break. It wouldn't have been possible if his body weren't bizarrely sturdy.
She couldn't gauge his external martial arts prowess deeply, but he seemed like he might have been a renowned martial artist in his youth.
After that, Namgung Serin climbed the mountain every day to teach him the sword. Sometimes she couldn't even understand herself, but she worried about the lonely old man, and she learned things herself in the process, so it wasn't a chore.
To begin with, he was playful yet utterly detached. He wouldn't fuss if she didn't show up.
One day, two days, three...
Time flowed steadily like river waters. Before long, she and the old man had grown close enough to call it friendship. Thanks to that, she opened up about her troubles. She was from the Namgung Family, and the upcoming Namgung Sparring Matches had her worried...
Almost no one knew, but the Poison Phoenix competing this time was her younger acquaintance, and she'd even gained the upper hand against a Demonic Cult division leader. She spilled it all.
"That's why it's tough. She's younger than me. Not only did she escape a division leader and dozens of his men unscathed, but she came out without a scratch... I wonder if I could have done that in her place."
"Worried that her talent has already surpassed yours?"
The old man's expression grew peculiar, as if lost in thought. After pondering for a few minutes, he tossed some firewood into the campfire for no reason. Smoke rose on the night air, vanishing beyond the starlight.
"There was something I meant to say before but held back. About what sets young people like you apart."
The flames burned higher than expected. The rising heat distorted his face, making his expression hard to read.
"Oh, right. I'd forgotten."
"Study up in advance next time. Read more books so your head doesn't fog up like mine. Anyway, that's what I wanted to say then. From what I see, you've never known failure."
"...You're right. I knew that too."
Sword Phoenix Namgung Serin.
Born to one of the world's foremost noble clans, gifted with one of the world's foremost talents.
She had never lost once. It had gone on too long. By the time she realized failure was just another experience, it had already rooted deep in her heart as a massive fear.
She strained to win even petty squabbles.
Practice bouts brought nausea from the pressure, and she'd even cheat in minor ways.
When she confessed such worries, her father would say:
People grow from those failures.
Her friends said much the same.
A swordsman mustn't fear defeat.
...Would the old man say the same? That people need to experience failure? That there's value in learning from it?
Those words rang true, but they weren't easy to live by now. As her face darkened,
"But don't treat losing as something ordinary."
Her head snapped up at his words. A storm of emotions sparkled in her sky-blue eyes like stars.
"...What do you mean?"
"What else? Exactly what I said. The world always spouts this: You must fail to succeed. You must fall to learn to rise. It's all true enough... But I think this: Even so, failure can never be more valuable than success."
"......"
"Don't let losers sway you. If you can win, win by any means. For as long as life allows. Isn't that what it means to be a martial artist?"
His eyes were so resolute as he said it.
"You're right..."
Namgung Serin bowed her head deeply. Her nose tingled sharply.
"Jeongam. Will you accept our offer?"
"...Begone. This is no place for villains like you."
"Is that truly your answer? We gave you a chance. It is you who will kill your disciple."
With a voice like scraping iron, they vanished like the wind.
In the Emei Sect's Divine Beast Valley. Seated on a rock with eyes closed, her mind was clouded like ink in water. The stream ran clear, the sky was blue, but it all felt meaningless now. Perhaps because the stone lodged in her chest refused to budge.
"What should I do... What..."
The more she pictured that lovely face, the deeper the worry etched into Jeongam Satae's features. Love always blinds.
Was this how the Buddha felt resisting the Demon King's temptations? A pained groan escaped Jeongam Satae's lips. Despite a lifetime of cultivation, she felt she could never become a Buddha.
"Yul-hye..."
The anguish kept taking root.
Knowing it would one day bind her completely, yet she couldn't uproot it.