53. Legacy of a Fallen World (Totally Forgotten)
The tutoring session resumed amid a slightly chaotic vibe. First, I drilled the basic martial arts formulas and concepts into Tenri.
"Just keep the formulas in your head—that's enough. Ultimately, it's all about how you move your body, so as long as you can nail the exact stance, you don't need to recall them on the spot."
"Ugh... so I don't have to memorize them?"
"Well... it'd be better if you did. But yeah, you can always look them up when you need to."
It might seem picky, but it's not that bad. After all, this is knowledge for warriors, not some scholar's puzzle. Back in the day, even I used to bang my head against those strings of Sino-Korean terms in the formulas.
'Don't get hung up on the words. Where'd you pick up that habit? If you're wasting brainpower on sword techniques instead of focusing on the blade, what kind of ridiculous sight is that?'
Thanks to the Hero's advice, I could spout off like a know-it-all now.
"Let's start by getting the stances into your body first."
"How do I do that?"
"There's only one way to imprint the movements."
I continued the lesson by recalling my old masters. And what's that one way? Practice, obviously.
"I'll watch your form, so start from the first form."
"Oh, right."
I glanced back and forth between Tenri, who was standing there with a blank, emoji-like expression, and the chat window. That's when I realized I'd forgotten to show a demo. Yeah, how many people could actually visualize the movements just from hearing the formula?
"Genius types can."
The Hero could, the Warrior too—they nailed it. Of course, I couldn't, so I learned by watching my comrades' demos. And now here I was, teaching and forgetting the demo myself. Felt like my two old masters were clicking their tongues at me.
"Sorry, sorry. Demo first."
"Nyaaang."
I pulled out Bingho Maeng-hon with Tenri freed from her blank state behind me. Hmm. Right, Tenri's right-handed? Bingryuna handles the right side, but for a light demo, no need to nitpick.
"I'll go as slow as possible, so record if you want."
"Yes!"
She could always watch the replay later. Wonder if the quality's decent. Should've gotten in the habit of recording in HD.
With that thought, I swung Bingho Maeng-hon slowly, like slo-mo, slow enough to follow easily. First form, second, third... sequentially. Ten seconds per move, up to the final seventh form. Been a while since I did this. Back then, I only did it for my comrade and second martial arts master (first was the Hero), Nojun, to help him understand better. All effort, no change.
"Uh..."
"See it okay?"
"Y-yeah."
Good for training juniors, at least?
"Psh. What do you take me for? If I could do it that fast, it'd just be bullying on purpose."
I eyed Tenri as she started swinging her sword, chiding the chat. She's no villain—why torment a junior?
"Nojun, you mean? Hmm. That's way off from our main content progression right now."
The rotten viewers got it instantly when I said Nojun. Makes sense—I'd talked a lot about the Hero's party, but skipped wuxia details since they hadn't come up.
"Alright, alright. Fine, a little spoiler then."
The problem with insider chats is they piss off the other viewers. With the crowd starting to boil, I dropped the manager/rotten fan convo and gave in to the chat's demands. Time to introduce my old comrades. Tenri's practice was too repetitive for stream content anyway—this would be better.
"Nojun, Moyong Hwi-young. Like me, he was a drifter who fell into that other world from somewhere else."
(Note: Nojun wasn't his actual nickname—it was an otherworldly title like the Hero's or my Geukbing. Everyone in the Hero's party had one.) Real nickname? He ditched it, never used it.
"He was the leader of the Murim Alliance back in his world."
"In pure martial skill, he was the best, no contest."
Or more than that. The Hero said it caused a sensation among the knights' swordsmanship. I just ate it up without knowing much.
"Huh? Pure martial arts only. Once magic enters the mix, I win."
Lots treat martial arts like a family heirloom. But in battle, it's just one tool to boost power. I swing a sword, sure, but I'm a magical girl. Overall combat power? In our eight-man party, Nojun was mid-tier.
"By the time we met Nojun after he arrived in the isekai, we'd gotten pretty strong ourselves."
I corrected Tenri's slightly off stance while reminiscing. Around year seven in the isekai. The Hero was chosen, saintess and witch gathered under the party name. Right before the showdown with the demon duke, we found him dying, crossed over dimensions.
"Oh, and Murim Alliance leader, but not the world's strongest or anything."
"He said second-in-command? Started as top-ten master level, climbed there just before isekai."
Rank up, sure. But Nojun's face was super gloomy saying it. Makes sense...
"Not Heavenly Demon. They were same top-ten level."
And dead before Nojun's isekai, along with his Heavenly Demon Divine Cult followers. Entirely.
Some viewers caught on to the incoming tale from the chat. Modern folks, flooded with stories—quick on the uptake. Yeah, that's the gist.
The top dog of Nojun's wuxia dimension. An immortal who hadn't ascended, pure madness replacing purity.
"...Everyone but Nojun died by his hand, and the world perished."
Why did a top-ten guy claim second place? All other top-ten dead, last survivor. Self-deprecating, no wonder the gloom. Watching your homeworld shred under a transcendent's whim—unimaginable horror.
"God told me later... most who fall from other worlds to that isekai are like that."
Lost their worlds, drifting in dimensional cracks, awaiting oblivion. They luck out and land there sometimes.
"He didn't die."
Per Nojun, immortals are straight-up transcendents. Reaching transcendence means soul rank equal to a world. He wrecked his own—destruction easier than creation, but still takes chops.
"Probably wandering forever."
Not whole like a world, just undying. Might fade someday.
"Thanks to that? Nojun joined us cooperatively."
He was wrecked by grief and fear. Lost world goes without saying. The isekai he lucked into? Demon lords wrecking it. Plus anxiety that the 'immortal' might show up. So he craved strong allies, poured out his martial arts freely. Hence the knight sensation. Last legacy of fallen Murim fused with isekai martial arts, massive progress. Nojun led that golden age, took special interest in me.
"...Not that. Hey, what suspicions on a 130+ geezer. Sigh. Nojun expected huge gains once I learned martial arts."
My sword level's decent now, but grown a ton.
"Back then, I swung my sword like a club... honestly worse than Tenri now."
"Sword wasn't for cutting enemies—more a magic conduit."
I was strong anyway. No interest or talent in swordplay. Nojun wouldn't let it slide. Talent secondary; clear I'd skyrocket power if I learned. Expectations high. Year seven me? Couldn't touch demon king, struggled with duke. Short on firepower.
"For real. Couldn't master advanced Jieum Sword arts?"
That's why basics only. Forgot formulas since I couldn't grasp them. Nothing left of advanced stuff.
"Nah."
Hero tried first, gave up. Nojun aimed for late-bloomer grind, but no time. Demon duke raid days later. That disastrous defeat day, Nojun declared before me: drag Hero in, forge new path.
"If you can't learn existing styles, I'll make one only you can learn and wield."
"Desperation went overboard..."
Thus, after a year: Geukbing Sword Art. One he couldn't use himself—made solely for me. That's my sword style now.
"Even that desperate guy seemed over it by the end."
Five years of war, realm elevated? Realized immortal wouldn't chase? Farewell Nojun was serene.
What nonsense—pure delusions. I started to retort but turned away. Urgent issue.
"Penguin junior! Left foot's off!"
"Ek?! Yes!"
"My swordplay still isn't top-tier."
Ultra-specialized. Tailored to my magical girl flair?
"Technique's polished, but sword aura, intent, illusions, blunt sword—martial principles? Zilch."