Chapter 45: The Terror of Habit
Chapter 45: The Terror of Habit
The One Flower Sword Venerable came to see me again the following night.
“They say the third time’s the charm. Let’s have one last bout today.”
I couldn’t tell if she was visiting because she placed such importance on the promise she made to my father, or if it was simply for the sheer pleasure of yesterday’s duel.
“Very well.”
I readily accepted the third sparring match.
“After we tied yesterday, I went back and slept the whole day away,” she remarked. “When I lost on the first day, I couldn’t sleep a wink. But after the draw, I fell into a deep, mindless slumber. I wondered if I’d ever slept that soundly in my entire life.”
“It seems you usually have trouble sleeping.”
“That’s right. I’ve never been able to fall into a deep sleep. Do you know what I even started thinking?”
“What was it?”
“I wondered if I should come here and duel you every day just so I can finally get some rest.”
I laughed, and the One Flower Sword Venerable smiled as she drew her sword.
Once the first bout ended, we stepped back to catch our breath. Whenever a question arose, we asked each other right then and there.
“During that twenty-third exchange, you dodged to the left. Why the left? Wouldn’t the right have been faster?”
“Moving to the right would have limited your options, Second Young Master. If I had dodged to the right, you would have had three possible follow-up moves. By dodging to the left, I reduced them to two.”
“Because of my center of gravity.”
“Exactly.”
When martial artists reach the level of a Sword Venerable or myself, they can replay a fight in their minds like a game of Go, even after exchanging hundreds of blows.
Whenever I asked a question, the Sword Venerable didn’t hide her thoughts; she answered truthfully. You can tell when someone is speaking from the heart. If my father heard me, he’d scold me for thinking I could read a person’s soul, but at the very least, the Sword Venerable was sincere.
She, too, asked me questions whenever she was curious. I answered her exactly as I thought. Just as I felt her sincerity, she felt the weight of truth in my answers. There is no loss in teaching. It was the same when I taught Lee An; one often learns more through the act of instructing others.
“I don’t know when it was,” she mused, “the last time I was this purely immersed in martial arts. Perhaps this is the first time.”
Given her age and status, ‘the first time’ was not a phrase she would utter lightly.
“Imagine how I feel,” I replied.
“Shall we begin again?”
“Let’s!”
This time, as if by unspoken agreement, we leaped into the air. This bout was, quite literally, an aerial battle.
Whenever one of us seemed about to fall, the other would launch an attack that allowed the opponent to kick off the blade and leap again, keeping them airborne. There were no sneak attacks. We helped each other stay aloft, continuing to trade blows in the sky.
Brilliant sword light etched patterns across the night sky. We flew through the air until our internal power was nearly spent, finally descending back onto the training ground.
Only the sound of our heavy breathing filled the arena. Had it been the first day, we would have judged the winner by who regained their breath first, but now, we didn't care at all.
“Is there any wine?”
She, who normally didn’t drink, was asking for alcohol.
“Yes, I have some.”
I went inside and brought out a bottle.
“This is good wine.”
“You know your spirits well.”
“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean I’m ignorant. Besides, I used to drink quite a bit in the past.”
The two of us shared the wine. Drinking after a duel with a Sword Venerable created a unique atmosphere. Despite saying she had quit long ago, she drank quite well—so well that I wondered if she had been drinking in secret all this time.
“Second Young Master, may I ask you something?”
“Yes, Senior.”
“What is the reason for this sudden change? You weren’t always this kind of person. I didn’t observe you closely, but I had a general idea of your reputation.”
“It wasn’t a sudden change. I’ve been preparing for a long time.”
“You were hiding your true self?”
“Something like that. If I had shown my true colors when I was too young, my brother would have killed me. I stayed crouched in the shadows until I was strong enough to protect myself.”
“You are a truly terrifying man.”
When the bottle finally ran dry, she spoke again.
“Let us do this one last time.”
I was startled. The One Flower Sword Venerable’s manner of speech had changed. She, who had always used formal honorifics, had naturally shifted to a more casual, familiar tone.
“This might sound strange, but being with you makes me feel like I’m with a friend.”
Perhaps she had sensed a fragment of my past life. In front of my father or Lee An, I tried desperately to act playful and mischievous so as not to drag the darkness, suffering, and weight of my previous years into the present. But I hadn't done that with her. During our duels, I had been more serious than anyone.
We learn from masters, and we learn from those beneath us. Because the enlightenment gained from those extremes is so potent, we often neglect the lessons to be learned from our peers. We devalue it, calling it 'more of the same.'
But today, I realized that 'more of the same' could be the finest feast imaginable.
We fought after talking, fought while learning, and fought while gaining enlightenment. Now, we set down our cups and fought once more. I dare say it: our battle was elegant. There was no murderous intent, only the nobility of enjoying the duel.
Throughout this entire process, I never once brought up the Blood Heaven Blade Demon. I even forgot the idea of trying to recruit her to my side.
We clashed with immense power, exchanging a final technique that exploded in a brilliant display of qi.
“It may sound impious, but I felt as though we shared a friendship through the sword, Senior.”
She agreed with my sentiment.
“I do not know what our relationship will be in the future, but I will remember today’s duel forever.”
The One Flower Sword Venerable also placed great value on this encounter.
“Yes. I won’t be able to forget it for the rest of my life. Thank you for your great teachings.”
“I wonder… was it truly I who provided the teaching?”
Perhaps she felt she had gained more than she gave. However, I was certain that I had learned more. She might have picked up a few pointers, but I had absorbed everything.
Through the duels of the past three days, I had thought deeply about the Flying Heaven Sword Technique, and the framework of the Great Achievement I had so firmly established began to shift.
I could feel it. The wall of the Ten-Star Stage had crumbled, and my realm was now advancing toward the Twelve-Star Great Achievement. My heart began to race at this change—the first in a very long time.
We didn't say goodbye with words.
The One Flower Sword Venerable drew her One Flower Sword and thrust it forward, and I responded with my Black Demonic Sword.
Clang!
With the clear ring of sword meeting sword as our farewell, our dueling came to an end.
*
Returning to her quarters, the One Flower Sword Venerable sat alone, drinking.
Once the duels with Geom Mu-geuk were over, a whirlwind of emotions surged within her. Three days had passed as if she were possessed. She thought back to the first day, when she had lost. All sorts of thoughts had crossed her mind then. She had even considered donning a mask and returning to kill Geom Mu-geuk.
The person she was then and the person she was today were entirely different. She was the same woman, but at least in her relationship with Geom Mu-geuk, she had become someone else entirely.
Just then, Sa U-jong’s voice drifted in from outside the hermitage.
“It is U-jong.”
He entered, carrying a dish to serve as a snack for her drinks. Setting the food on the table, Sa U-jong asked, “Is something troubling you?”
In all the years he had served her, he had never seen her drink like this. And yet, here she was, drinking suddenly and alone.
‘This is a bad omen.’
That was how Sa U-jong interpreted the situation. Because the One Flower Sword Venerable had moved so discreetly, Sa U-jong knew nothing of the duels that had taken place over the last three days.
She gave no answer to his question.
In moments like these, Sa U-jong felt a deep sense of self-loathing. She had never once opened up to him. He had assumed it was because she was emotionally cold, but why was she suddenly drinking?
“Does this perhaps have to do with the Second Young Master?”
The One Flower Sword Venerable shot a sideways glance at Sa U-jong. Her eyes were cold, telling him not to speak nonsense.
“It is nothing.”
Sa U-jong quickly bowed his head. “I spoke out of turn. My apologies.”
Sa U-jong had a specific prescription for when she was in a foul mood.
“Ah, I have brought a new fellow. He is waiting in the secret room…”
“Enough!”
“Pardon?”
“No more men… Stop bringing them.”
“!”
Sa U-jong was momentarily struck with shock. It wasn't just the command to stop bringing men that surprised him. It was that the Sword Venerable had addressed him with formal respect. The shock hit him like a physical blow.
‘What is this? Why is she suddenly acting like this?’
He had taken pride in the "specialness" of being the only one she spoke to informally. He wondered if he had misheard, but that wasn't the case.
The One Flower Sword Venerable let out a soft sigh.
“It’s something I should have stopped long ago. No, I should never have started it in the first place.”
When Sa U-jong had first brought a young man to her, the root of the problem had been her surrender to a moment of lust.
Just once! Yes, just this once. I can’t even remember the last time I slept with a man. Let me enjoy myself just once!
But once the box of desire was opened, there was no such thing as "just once." Once became twice, and twice became thrice.
When Sa U-jong told her that the men did it because they wanted to, and that she was actually helping them by giving them large sums of money, she had simply closed her eyes tight. To be honest, later on, she hadn't even felt guilt.
Lust had become a habit. And the habit was more terrifying than the lust itself. She didn't even find it that enjoyable anymore, yet she couldn't break it.
But now, it was time to stop. After finishing her duels with Geom Mu-geuk, she felt it was time to start something new—whether with him or not.
“Then I shall send him back today. Whenever you give the word…”
“There will never be a next time. Do you understand?”
At her icy gaze, Sa U-jong bowed his head. “I will keep that in mind.”
“You may leave. And if you lay a hand on those young men under the guise of keeping a secret, you will die by my hand.”
Until now, she had made sure the young men were taken care of—checking if they were paid properly and sent away alive. She did this so Sa U-jong wouldn't kill them to protect the secret.
“That will not happen.”
After hurriedly bowing in farewell, Sa U-jong turned away.
His expression was frozen. He had used men to win her favor, believing this dark secret had solidified his position as the perfect second-in-command. But what was this unfamiliar coldness? Where did this sudden dignity come from?
He had been certain that he would naturally become the next Sword Venerable. But the Sword Venerable’s heart was wavering. No, she was turning away from him.
He knew the reason better than anyone. The one person who had recently shaken her.
‘Geom Mu-geuk!’
*
That night, someone was waiting at Sa U-jong’s quarters.
The woman’s name was Cheong-seon. One of the five disciples of the Soul-Seizing Demon Lord, she was a ghost practitioner.
As soon as Sa U-jong entered the room, Cheong-seon rushed into his arms. They had been seeing each other for a year now, and their passion was at its peak. While held in his embrace, Cheong-seon spoke with a slight pout.
“Can’t you take that painting down?”
Her gaze was fixed on the painting hanging on the wall. The woman in the portrait was the One Flower Sword Venerable.
“Are you jealous of a painting?”
“It’s not jealousy. I know your loyalty well, but is there really a need to keep a painting of that woman in your room?”
“I didn't become the second-in-command of the Northern Heavenly Sword House by accident.”
“I know, I know. But it makes me feel bad every time I see it.”
Cheong-seon led Sa U-jong toward the bed.
“Do you know? This is the first time you’ve ever asked to see me first. I’m always the one looking for you.”
“Is that so?”
“You’re the most stoic man in the entire Cult.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Because of that old hag, the Sword Venerable.”
“Watch your tongue.”
“Sorry.”
Cheong-seon pressed herself against him, and Sa U-jong embraced her fiercely, as he always did. However, Sa U-jong’s eyes remained fixed on the painting on the wall. The burning heat in his eyes was not loyalty.
Cheong-seon did not know. She did not know that at this very moment, her man was thinking of another woman—one far older than herself.
When the moans of pleasure finally subsided, words that would change their fates flowed from Sa U-jong’s mouth. The very words that mark the beginning of the end for any relationship.
“…I have a favor to ask.”