Rehabilitation Training (3)
One of the hard lessons I learned over two years of eating, sleeping, and breathing the sword was this: never associate with sword-crazed lunatics.
If someone obsesses over a single thing to that degree, they’re bound to cause trouble for everyone around them. And the headaches caused by sword maniacs were so severe it was hard to tell whether they were enemies or allies.
The moment they opened their mouths, it was always the same. “Let’s spar.” “Let’s test our swordsmanship.” “I wish to witness your blade.” They’d parrot the same lines with slight variations like broken records. And if they spotted someone using a sword style they’d never seen before, they’d charge like a dog in heat.
They didn’t care if the people around them looked disgusted. They’d proudly declare, “What’s wrong with a swordsman seeking the pinnacle of the blade!” and then draw diagrams on the ground with the tip of their sword to review battles.
The worst were the Pythagorean Sword School bastards. They wrote out their sword techniques as literal equations. Unless you belonged to their school, you couldn’t understand a damn thing. Even though I’d learned modern mathematics in my previous life, this was a different era. There weren’t even proper symbols for basic arithmetic, so I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It looked like some kind of cipher scribbled on the floor. Even when I stared at it openly from behind, none of it made sense.
Out of curiosity, I once asked what it meant and nearly suffered qi deviation. In the Central Plains, they called it ju hwa ip ma. That experience alone was enough to make me dislike sword-crazed lunatics.
Anyway—
“Young hero! If it’s not too much trouble—”
“It is.”
You could never give sword maniacs even the slightest opening. The moment you showed the tiniest gap, they’d pounce like rabid dogs.
Of course, this one seemed a bit milder than the others, but still. I hated it all the same.
“That’s right! It is trouble! This uncle’s body hasn’t fully recovered yet!”
“Ah! I apologize! I’ve made a terrible mistake! Please forgive me!”
...Well, at least this guy’s symptoms aren’t too severe yet. He can still apologize properly.
He wasn’t completely deranged and armed to the teeth with obsession. I patted the clear-eyed swordsman on the shoulder and told him not to worry about it.
Yeah. Mistakes happen.
Mistakes can happen.
“Then… once your body has fully healed, may I request a single spar?”
“...”
Should I accept or not?
I stood there, staring at Mu-gwang and his earnest eyes, lost in thought.
I didn’t particularly like sword maniacs, but this spar itself looked like it would bring plenty of benefits.
What mattered to me right now?
Recovering the combat senses dulled by my time as a patient, and building connections who would support my opinions.
And one of the best ways to achieve both at once was through sparring.
No matter how you looked at it, for a swordsman who had lost his edge in real combat, sparring was one of the fastest ways to regain his instincts.
It would also help me grow familiar with Central Plains swordsmanship, so it was killing two birds with one stone.
On top of that, increasing my network of contacts—even by one person—wasn’t something I could ignore.
I needed at least one reliable ally if I was going to fight the Demonic Cult bastards. Someone I could trust to watch my back.
The fact that sword maniacs became easy to befriend once you exchanged blades with them was another big plus.
So from my perspective, there was almost no reason to refuse this spar.
Of course, losing would be a headache… but I hadn’t survived the battlefield all those years when I couldn’t even properly handle aura for nothing.
“I should be fully recovered in a week. Come find me then.”
The moment those words of permission left my mouth, Mu-gwang’s tense face brightened as if he’d been afraid I would refuse.
“This Mu-gwang will eagerly await the day he can witness Young Hero’s sword!”
Mu-gwang gave me a fist-and-palm salute with a face full of gratitude, as if I had done him some enormous favor. Was agreeing to one spar really that moving?
Sword maniacs really weren’t right in the head.
I watched Mu-gwang leave as noisily as he had arrived and asked Hye-ryeong,
“He’s making an awfully big fuss over a single spar.”
“Last year, Senior Brother Im-geon took pity on him and agreed to spar. After that, he pestered him for seven whole days straight. No one will spar with him anymore!”
...Maybe I should have looked for a different opponent?
I rose from my seat, wondering if my decision had been the right one.
I couldn’t just sit around here forever.
“Two hundred ninety-eight, two hundred ninety-nine… three hundred!”
After finishing my push-ups, I stood up, rolling my stiff shoulders, and checked my physical condition.
The aura that had once left my dantian completely empty now filled it to the brim. The flow through my meridians felt natural too. At this rate, my body was roughly back to the condition I had during my days rolling around on the battlefield.
My shrunken muscles had recovered somewhat as well. As long as I could awaken my senses through sparring, I shouldn’t have any problems fighting.
“Uncle, you really love training! You’re just like Junior Brother Mu-gwang!”
Did she think I was doing this because I enjoyed it?
This was all to save you people from the Sword Gate… Sigh. Never mind. Even if I explained, they’d just look at me like I was crazy.
To them, it would probably sound like nonsense.
I wiped my sweat-drenched body with the towel Hye-ryeong handed me. I could feel her gaze on my bare upper body from behind. She must have seen plenty of naked men during group training, so why was she staring so curiously?
“Stop staring. You’re going to wear it out.”
“But your body is so fascinating, Uncle. I’ve never seen anyone with so many scars before!”
I did have a lot of scars.
A greenhorn who only received basic training before being thrown onto the battlefield had to survive through sheer spite and willpower if he wanted to be officially knighted.
Looking back now, I was amazed I had survived at all.
I’d been stabbed at least a dozen times, and every battle left me with several large and small wounds. There was even a time I fought desperately against an enemy ambush with one arm broken.
At least the torture only lasted two weeks. If I hadn’t been sold off as a slave and had endured even more, I might have become a complete wreck.
That torture technician whose name was a pain in the ass to remember—I should have ripped out all his mustache hairs and stuffed them down his throat.
“Uncle? You don’t look well! Maybe we should postpone the spar…”
“It’s just some bad memories resurfacing. Don’t worry about it.”
What was the point of dwelling on bad memories now?
A person had to look forward and live.
I put on the training uniform Hye-ryeong had brought and turned around. She, who had been sitting and watching me, stood up and opened the door.
“The head cook said he’s making a special meal for breakfast today!”
Oh, special meal.
My anticipation for breakfast shot through the roof.
Even the regular dishes were so good they made you want seconds. A special meal? I wondered what kind of dish he was going to serve.
They were really spoiling me since it was the day of my spar.
When I heard the morning menu was stir-fried sausage and vegetables, I reacted like a discharged soldier who had just received his final meal. Three hundred push-ups had left me starving.
If a skilled cook’s special dish was what would fill my complaining stomach, I welcomed it with open arms.
“Ah! We have to hurry! The rumor about today’s special meal has spread everywhere!”
“We might not even get a seat if we’re late.”
We immediately picked up the pace.
It was closer to running toward the dining hall than walking.
We arrived at the dining hall a little earlier than usual and opened the door.
“Oh no, it’s almost full already! We should have used lightness skill!”
Just as the disappointed Hye-ryeong said, there were almost no seats left.
It was all thanks to Head Cook Jeong’s incredible cooking.
“Uncle! Over there! There’s a seat over there!”
We quickly sat down at the empty spot we barely managed to find. If we had been even a little later, we would have had to stand.
Hye-ryeong raised her hand as usual and ordered breakfast.
“Head Cook! We’re here! Special meal please!”
“Got it! Sit there and wait!”
The cook’s cheerful shout rang out, and delicious aromas began drifting from the kitchen.
What could the special be?
I imagined what the special dish might be as I took two chopsticks from the holder and handed one to Hye-ryeong.
“Thank you!”
How long had we been chatting with our chopsticks resting on the table before a serving maid placed the special dish in front of us?
“Wow! Five-spice braised pork!”
Hye-ryeong let out a delighted cry and picked up her chopsticks. I didn’t shout, but I eagerly picked up a piece of the tender meat and brought it to my mouth.
Ah, this was the taste.
It was on a completely different level from tough meat salted and forcibly shoved down your throat.
How had I survived fighting while eating that terrible food?
The miserable dining situation of medieval Europe suddenly came to mind, and my eyes grew moist.
“Uncle, eat lots of meat!”
Hye-ryeong pushed the plate of five-spice braised pork toward me with pity in her eyes.
“It’s fine. You eat some too.”
“No! Just watching you eat meat fills me up!”
“I told you not to do that.”
Now I just looked like some beggar.
Well… was I wrong?
It was true that for at least two years I had eaten food so bad I couldn’t tell if I was eating like a human or a dog.
I stopped trying to refuse and quietly put the meat in my mouth.
The meat disappeared in the blink of an eye.
There simply hadn’t been that much of it.
I filled the rest of my stomach with the noodles that came with the dish and set down my chopsticks.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Now that we’re done eating, let’s head straight to the training ground!”
We immediately left the dining hall and headed to the sparring location. The sparring would take place at the training ground in the main building. From what I heard, even the sect leader and elders of the Hainan Sword Gate would be observing this match.
“This is the training ground!”
Whoa, there were a lot of people.
As expected of Hainan Island’s representative sect, countless disciples had gathered to surround the training ground.
I never imagined so many would come just to watch me spar with that Mu-gwang guy.
Well, watching a spar was also helpful for sword training, so there was no reason not to come.
“That person…”
“Look at his height… He must be at least seven feet tall?”
“They say people from the Western Regions are skilled in external arts. I’m curious if that’s true.”
I let the murmuring voices of the people staring at me go in one ear and out the other.
There was no reason to listen or remember any of it.
Let’s see.
This one looks good.
I picked up the longest-looking wooden sword from the weapon rack.
The grip felt a little off, but I was borrowing it, so I couldn’t complain.
Holding the wooden sword, I walked to the center of the training ground.
In the middle of the training ground, my sparring partner Mu-gwang was already waiting with a wooden sword in hand.
“It has been seven days.”
“Time really flies.”
“Time is like a flying arrow. It passes in the blink of an eye, doesn’t it?”
Don’t use difficult words.
My head hurts.
“I suppose so.”
I gave a suitable reply and turned my gaze toward the middle-aged warrior walking toward us.
“Master.”
“So you’re the rumored foreigner from the Western Regions. I am Baek-hyeon, master of this unworthy disciple.”
“...My name is William.”
“William? That’s quite difficult to pronounce.”
“I plan to choose a new name in the Central Plains style.”
I didn’t have any particular attachment to the name, so I needed to pick a suitable one soon.
I made up my mind once more and looked straight ahead.
Mu-gwang was also staring at me.
“Are you mentally prepared?”
“Yes, Master.”
“And you?”
“I’m ready as well.”
“I will take five steps backward. When I finish, the spar will begin!”
Five steps, huh.
That’s an unusual way to start.
Thud.
The sound of a backward step.
I didn’t take my eyes off Mu-gwang.
Thud.
Thud.
Five steps. Easy enough to count with my ears.
Thud.
I stepped forward with my right foot and bent my knees.
Thud.
The fifth footstep that signaled the start of the spar rang in my ears.
And then, Mu-gwang’s sword came rushing toward me like a fierce wave.