Chapter 41
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Travel
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Travel
A merchant caravan is all about buying low and selling high.
This trip for the Songwol Merchant Group had been commissioned for transportation rather than sales, so delivering the goods to their destination marked its completion.
The original plan had been to buy up large quantities of items that could yield market price profits on the return, loading them onto the empty wagons.
It went without saying. Leaving the wagons, packhorses, and manpower they'd brought idle would be unacceptable.
However, loading up such a large amount of cargo inevitably slowed their pace, and they had to stick to the roads because of the wagons and packhorses.
"Um, is this... alright...?"
It was a speed that would frustrate even transcendent experts, let alone peak or first-rate martial artists. Wouldn't an ordinary person's footsteps make her burst with anger?
Or should they pick up the pace now?
Song Seolryeong glanced anxiously at So-hyang, her expression laced with unease.
"Of course it's fine. There's no rush."
Her gentle smile and soft reply should have been reassuring...
"-Th-then, may I ask why you're walking alongside the carriage instead of riding in it...!?"
Seeing her stroll lightly beside the carriage with hands clasped behind her back, as if subtly making a point, Song Seolryeong squeezed her eyes shut.
Her superior was walking on foot—how could she ride in the carriage? It looked improper!
In the end, Song Seolryeong hopped down from the carriage and started running on foot as well.
"I'm just more comfortable walking, so you don't have to follow my lead..."
"I-I'm more comfortable walking too...!"
So-hyang gave a troubled smile.
The child looked so distressed that she wanted nothing more than to hop back in the carriage, but the peculiarities of So-hyang's body made that difficult.
The peculiarity? In simple terms, her absurdly heavy weight.
Her skeletal muscles, compressed to the extreme, weighed as much as an equal volume of pure gold, metaphorically speaking.
Even compared to her superhuman physical prowess, it was remarkably light—but still far beyond what a carriage horse could handle.
The carriage floor would undoubtedly shatter under the weight from the start.
On stable ground like earth or floors, she could manage by dispersing the impact, but...
In a rolling carriage where the center of gravity shifted constantly, that was no easy feat.
Essentially, the essence of So-hyang's lightness skill focused on achieving light movements rather than actually reducing her weight.
Since gaining the ability to use spirit energy, she could employ traditional lightness skills that reduced weight itself, but they couldn't fully sustain her mass continuously.
To handle that level, she'd need something like aerial suspension arts that lifted the body via void manipulation, beyond mere lightness skills.
"Heh, hehe...! Walking through this fresh forest air feels great...!"
In the end, she ended up walking side by side with the child, who forced a smile to insist she had no complaints. It was quite the peculiar situation.
"Ooh! Mind if I walk alongside too?"
"Of course. Want some snacks?"
Ignoring all that, Zhuge Hansang—delighted to accompany the woman he fancied—grinned broadly as he accepted the snack from So-hyang.
"Thank you!"
"It's just travel rations, but I put some care into making them, so they shouldn't be bad."
"...! You made them yourself!?"
"Yes. Cooking's a hobby of mine."
"H-Homemade...!"
The woman he adored feeding him food she'd made with care...? This was straight-up...!
Zhuge Hansang's face flushed beet red in an instant, his eyes spinning. His mind flooded with pink haze, and he couldn't hold back the words bubbling from his heart.
"I adore you, Miss So-hyang! Please, let's start courting with marriage in mind...!"
"Hehe, there you go again. Just eat your snack."
Unfortunately, his confession was brushed off lightly as always, and Zhuge Hansang munched on the snack with tears in his eyes.
"...It's delicious!"
"Haha, thanks?"
Watching the scene, Song Seolryeong seethed inwardly, her guts burning black.
Was that guy sane? Not only did he harbor feelings for a transcendent expert, he didn't even try to hide it?
No survival instinct? No fear? Just crazy for women?
"Crazy bastard..."
Anyway, he was definitely mad. Unable to hold back, Song Seolryeong muttered under her breath.
The problem was, how could such words escape a transcendent expert's ears? Realizing too late, she clapped a hand over her mouth and stiffly glanced at So-hyang.
"A-Are you very tired? Want a snack?"
As expected, those pale eyes looked at her with concern, making Song Seolryeong's mind go blank.
"Th-Thank you... I'll have one..."
Clutching her pounding heart, she ate the snack So-hyang offered—and damn, it was tasty again.
This was driving her insane.
This time, she kept it inside. Her eyes stung with heat.
-----
A slow pace meant plenty of spare time.
Matching the gait of wagon-pulling horses and untrained ordinary folk naturally created moments for rest.
Before long, the sun set, and camp was set up.
The campfire crackled as it burned, and the caravan members turned in early to recover from the day's travel fatigue.
For martial artists of her caliber, though, the fatigue was negligible. So-hyang and a few others were still full of energy.
"Everyone, want to learn a few moves from me?"
So-hyang decided to use the downtime to teach her companions a bit.
Fear of her opponent aside, she was an unfathomably transcendent expert—her guidance was invaluable.
"If the great hero permits, please teach us...!"
Song Seolryeong trembled but sparkled with enthusiasm.
"Of course I'd love to! Please take care of me!"
Zhuge Hansang's enthusiasm seemed aimed elsewhere, but it was enthusiasm nonetheless.
"...May I receive your guidance as well?"
The last one accepted too.
The Kang-surnamed warrior, the sole peak expert in Song Seolryeong's caravan.
His orthodox, defensive swordplay had impressively held firm against two peak experts for quite some time.
"My name is Kang Pyo. Call me Warrior Kang."
"Sorry I was too late to help last time. I got too caught up watching the fight..."
"No need for such words. I am nothing but grateful for the great hero's grace. Without your aid, I couldn't have protected the young lady..."
"Mm, I'm glad you see it that way."
In any case, So-hyang decided to teach these three on the way to the Wudang Sect.
"First, shall we start with Seolryeong?"
She snapped off a suitably sized tree branch and roughly shaped it into a wooden sword with her hand.
"Need to check your skills first. How about a light spar? Come at me."
"...Yes!"
Trembling with fear, Song Seolryeong drew her sword without hesitation and charged at So-hyang.
In So-hyang's hand: a crude log chunk shaped like a wooden sword, nothing special.
In Song Seolryeong's: a fine steel sword wreathed in sword qi.
Naturally, Song Seolryeong got thoroughly thrashed and ended up sprawled on the ground.
The spar lasted just over a minute, but So-hyang adroitly controlled her sword path, relentlessly pressing her without respite.
"Hah, hah, heuk...!"
Desperately wriggling under the barrage of wooden sword strikes from every angle, her lung capacity hit its limit in no time.
Like wringing out a dry rag, So-hyang pushed Song Seolryeong to her absolute limits.
In a word... it was brutally, honestly nauseatingly exhausting.
"Urk, uweeegh...!"
In any case, through the process—from basic tendencies to unconscious habits unknown even to herself—So-hyang came to understand Song Seolryeong more intimately than the girl did herself.
"Mm, as I thought before, you've got good skills. Solid basics and instinctive senses."
Despite her recent, unstable promotion, she'd adapted well enough.
She hadn't fully shaken off the traces of rigid forms, but that was purely a matter of proficiency—time would fix it.
Her internal energy was a bit lacking, but time would handle that too—no major issues.
"But while your talent is great, you tend to rely too much on it when handling the sword."
Song Seolryeong's talent was close to animal instinct: erratic, brilliant moves guided by gut feeling.
A talent that let a mere first-rate hold her own against peak experts to some extent—but overreliance was unwise.
"Rigid swordsmanship is weak to the irregular, but formless swordsmanship is just as vulnerable to irregularity. Intuition is inherently uncertain without structure."
In the end, balance and harmony were key.
Without rationally understanding one's instincts and grasping why certain moves arise, gaps were inevitable.
"Th-then... how do I fix it...?"
"Spar often. Experience is the best medicine for this."
Eventually, enough beatings and insights would make it natural.
Pound it into her body until she judged for herself that it wouldn't do.
"Once after breakfast, once after lunch, once before bed... five spars a day with me should fix it naturally."
"Y-Yes...? "
A "quick check" spar had led to this, and now five times a day...?
Regret flickered in Song Seolryeong's eyes, but she shook it off and steeled herself.
"I-I'll do my best...!"
How often did such serendipity come twice? Letting opportunity slip was foolish for a martial artist or merchant.
"Haha, great attitude!"
So-hyang massaged the sprawled girl's limbs appreciatively.
"H-Hueee...!"
Refined through vast anatomical knowledge and years of experience, her massage skills reached divine realms—without exaggeration.
The sensation melted even her soul; sounds escaped involuntarily, and budding pain subsided swiftly.
Unable to resist the utter comfort, Song Seolryeong drifted off, snoring softly into sleep's embrace.
So-hyang stroked her head fondly, tidied her disheveled hair, and tucked her neatly into her bedding.
"Next up, Hansang."
Having watched the exchange, Zhuge Hansang's eyes brimmed with clear anticipation.
"C-Could it be...! I'll get a massage from you too...!?"
He'd tried to hide it, but his breathing was ragged, heart pounding wildly.
His intentions were transparently obvious; So-hyang chuckled inwardly at how plain they were.
"Hmm, who knows..."
Teasing with a coy tone and ambiguous smile, she built his hopes. Zhuge Hansang gulped nervously.
"If your skills impress me, why not?"
"-I'll give it my all!!"
His resolute shout echoed like a tiger's roar across the campsite, eyes gleaming fiercely in the firelight.
As if facing his parents' killer or life's greatest goal.
His desperate, all-in attitude was endearing, but...
"Ahem, tone it down? You'll wake everyone."
"Y-Yes... Sorry...!"
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So-hyang was quite intrigued by Zhuge Hansang.
"-Wh-what, really...!"
"Ah, not like that."
Thud. Zhuge Hansang's world crumbled; despair veiled his eyes, draining their light.
"No way...!!"
Her interest was in Zhuge Hansang as a martial artist.
A bold, handsome face suited to the term " dashing hero."
Matching it: a tall, towering stature and muscular build—far beyond merely upright.
Yet not so bulky as to seem dull.
Broad inverted-triangle shoulders, thick chest, long limbs packed with solid muscle—a body perfect in aesthetics and utility.
Contrasting the slender frames typical of Zhuge clansmen, he embodied the robust skeletal structure often praised.
"Then I'll show all my skills to win your favor!"
Steel gauntlets encased his pot-lid-sized fists; thick greaves bound his legs.
Clashing his fists together produced a thunderous boom that filled the air.
"Hmm, a fist fighter..."
A martial artist deemed an unprecedented oddity even in the Zhuge family.
Zhuge Hansang specialized not in sword, spear, or even qi arts—but pure fists.
In a world of qi where superhuman martial arts defied physics...
Did relying solely on fists and limbs offer advantages outweighing the overwhelming drawback of forgoing weapons?
"Well, you'll see soon enough."
So-hyang smiled brightly, openly showing her curiosity and anticipation.