Chapter 575: Is a Little Bruise on the Chest Really That Bad?
Chapter 575: Is a Little Bruise on the Chest Really That Bad?
The next day, as they headed to their White Dragon Unit class, Seo Jin asked worriedly, “What if that man takes us hostage again to try and target the Young Cult Leader?”
Lee An watched the back of Geom Mu-geuk, who was walking ahead of them, and replied nonchalantly, “The Young Cult Leader will protect us.”
However, Seo Jin couldn't forget how volatile the atmosphere had been the day before.
“If you’re staying behind because of me, I’m really fine,” she added. She worried that Lee An was forcing herself to stay only to help with her revenge.
Lee An stopped in her tracks, and Seo Jin followed suit.
“You asked what kind of person the Young Cult Leader is, right?”
“Yes.”
“If he had judged that we needed to go back, he would have personally packed our bags and sent us away. Honor? Justification? Pride? He isn’t the type to overextend himself for things like that. If the Young Cult Leader hasn’t said anything, then it’s fine.”
After finishing class yesterday, Geom Mu-geuk had gone out somewhere before returning. Lee An hadn’t asked where he went, but it was undoubtedly to prepare for this situation.
At dawn, she had heard the sound of the window in Geom Mu-geuk’s room opening. He had stayed awake until then.
Lying on her bed, Lee An had stared at the stars visible through her half-open window. Geom Mu-geuk was likely looking at those same stars.
“If the Young Cult Leader said the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow, I’d bet my entire fortune on it.”
Such was Lee An’s absolute faith in Geom Mu-geuk.
“Please let me know when you place that bet.”
“You want to bet on it not rising, too?”
“No, I can’t do that. I’ve realized since leaving home that there are a lot of things to spend money on.”
Lee An and Seo Jin shared a small smile.
Just then, Geom Mu-geuk looked back at them from up ahead.
“What are you doing? Hurry up!”
The two women resumed their walk. As they moved, Lee An offered another piece of optimistic logic.
“The Young Cult Leader isn’t just any master. Given his skill—and the skill of someone capable of threatening him—I don’t think hostages would mean anything. Think of it like this: if it’s an opponent the Young Cult Leader can beat, he’ll win even if they take us hostage. If it’s an opponent he can’t beat, they wouldn’t bother taking hostages in the first place.”
Seo Jin had lived her life as a blood relative of the Ghost Gate, never wanting for anything. Now, she was feeling a strange yet intense desire.
“I want to become strong, too. Truly.”
She wanted to fight alongside these masters in their world—not as a hostage, but as a protagonist.
How could Lee An not understand her heart? She had felt that same desire once and had devoted herself to training like a madwoman.
Being around Geom Mu-geuk naturally made one feel this way. It wasn’t because anyone forced it. It was likely because the path that man walked was one you couldn't follow unless your heart was pounding fit to burst.
“If that’s the case, then don’t you dare doze off during class!”
*
The Sword King’s second lesson began.
He looked slightly different from the day before. His shabby martial robes, tightly tied hair, and the single steel sword were the same, but today, he was barefoot.
“Try walking barefoot once in a while. You can feel the energy of the earth. It’s quite nice.”
The students chuckled at the sight of his shoes dangling from the side opposite his sword. He had even dragged a large crate along with him.
“I brought this from the storehouse.”
When he opened the dust-covered crate, it was filled with wooden swords for training.
In the early days of the Yellow Dragon Martial Arts Hall, students would train with wooden swords for several years. However, as the hall became famous and began selecting students through rigorous examinations, wooden sword lessons had eventually vanished.
“Alright, everyone take one.”
The students were bewildered. They had been training with their own live blades until now, and suddenly they were being handed wooden toys.
“You brats, who do you think you’re going to kill with live steel at your level? Even a wooden sword is more than you deserve.”
The students picked up the wooden swords, inwardly scoffing. Between his behavior yesterday, his bare feet, and now these random wooden swords, he truly seemed like a slacker instructor.
As Lee An picked up a wooden sword, she sent a message via Voice Transmission to Geom Mu-geuk.
— This is unexpected. I thought he would create a terrifying atmosphere with a lesson that felt more like a real battle.
Geom Mu-geuk’s reply was surprising.
— I find this even more terrifying.
— Pardon? Why?
— Because people will swing them recklessly just because they’re wooden swords.
— !
A wooden sword in the Sword King’s hand will be sharper than any treasure blade, Lee An.
Geom Mu-geuk looked down at his wooden sword.
Come to think of it, how long has it been since I held one of these?
He recalled the day he had first gripped a real sword at his father’s training ground. Now that he thought about it, he considered the day he first held a real sword to be special, yet he had completely forgotten the day he first held a wooden one. Perhaps that moment had been even more important.
The martial art taught at the Yellow Dragon Martial Arts Hall was the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique.
The Yellow Dragon Sword Technique was the primary reason the hall had become the greatest in the Central Plains, but it wasn't because the technique was exceptionally powerful. It was designed so that no matter what internal energy mental method one had learned, the sword technique could be performed without conflict.
“The Yellow Dragon Sword Technique consists of twenty-six forms in total.”
At that, the students corrected him. “It’s twenty-nine.”
“Ah, was it?”
The students wore expressions that said, 'Of course he doesn't know,' but the Sword King didn't look embarrassed at all.
“If you master this sword technique properly, you can even give the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult a good thrashing on his backside.”
The students laughed at that. The one who laughed the loudest was Geom Mu-geuk. He wasn't offended in the least; he was enjoying the Sword King’s joke.
Lee An could feel it. A silent clash of wills was taking place between the two, and they were both enjoying it.
“Alright, today we will learn the first three forms of the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique.”
The Sword King stood before everyone with his wooden sword.
Only Geom Mu-geuk truly felt it. Though it was only a wooden sword, the man’s presence changed completely the moment he held it.
What kind of presence would he exude if he drew a real blade? The Sword King holding a sword felt like a different person entirely, to the point that such fear arose naturally.
“I don’t usually teach this to just anyone.”
The students took it as the rambling of a blowhard, but Geom Mu-geuk focused on his every word and gesture. The students likely had no idea who they were currently learning swordsmanship from.
The Sword King’s movements were incredibly fluid. It looked as though he wasn't using any strength at all, making it seem almost like a dance.
Everyone tilted their heads in confusion. The Yellow Dragon Sword Technique they had learned until now was a martial art performed with fast, powerful movements. Thus, they all thought the same thing: 'As expected, he’s just trying to slack off again like yesterday.'
He even changed the movements as he performed the forms.
“Ah, this way seems better.”
While everyone else shook their heads, it looked different to Geom Mu-geuk. He could see that the Sword King had reinterpreted the fierce Yellow Dragon Sword Technique based on "softness."
Where would he have had the time to learn the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique properly? He must have briefly looked at a manual to serve as a temporary instructor, yet he had reinterpreted the martial art and presented it as something entirely new.
After performing the forms, the Sword King sat on the crate he had brought the swords in and brushed the dust off his feet.
“Did you all see that?”
As he spoke, his gaze shifted toward Geom Mu-geuk. From the look in his eyes, Geom Mu-geuk knew.
The fight has begun.
'I have performed it like this; how will you perform this Yellow Dragon Sword Technique?'
It was a probe to test Geom Mu-geuk’s skill, the playfulness of one who had reached the ultimate principle of swordsmanship, and the start of a battle that could take the opponent’s head at any moment.
“Alright, everyone try it!”
The students thrust their wooden swords out in unison. As if to say, 'This is what the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique is,' they performed the forms fast and strong, just as they had been taught.
A few tried to mimic the Sword King, but they soon felt it was ridiculous and reverted to their original way. The only ones in the room who followed the Sword King’s demonstration exactly were Geom Mu-geuk, Lee An, and Seo Jin.
Of course, Geom Mu-geuk was the only one who accurately understood the Sword King’s reinterpretation.
Geom Mu-geuk’s movements were identical to the Sword King’s. Softly, like flowing water. He poured his entire heart into every single motion as he performed the three forms of the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique.
A flash of intrigue crossed the Sword King’s eyes as he watched him. He really pulled it off after seeing it just once?
“Geom Yeon, come forward.”
The Sword King called Geom Mu-geuk out. Lee An was inwardly tense, but Geom Mu-geuk walked forward fearlessly with the wooden sword in hand.
“Give us a demonstration.”
Geom Mu-geuk replicated the Sword King’s demonstration perfectly. He didn't include his own interpretation. He performed the martial art exactly as the Sword King had shown.
One should only add their own interpretation when they can perfectly execute the original. Knowing that originality can sometimes be a trap that hinders the completion of the essence, Geom Mu-geuk strove to be faithful to that essence.
Laughter erupted here and there. To the students, it looked ridiculous. The instructor’s demonstration had been strange to begin with, and they thought Geom Mu-geuk was just copying those clumsy movements to get on the instructor’s good side.
Some students sneered openly. This was especially true since Geom Mu-geuk had been the target of jealousy and resentment ever since he became the "Shield Geom Yeon" rather than just the "Newbie Geom Yeon."
Once the demonstration ended, the Sword King asked the students, “Alright, who wants to try a fixed sparring match using the forms we learned today?”
While everyone was hesitating, one person stepped forward.
“I’ll do it.”
It was Yu Gwang. He didn't have a personal grudge against Geom Mu-geuk. He had stepped forward for two reasons: half of it was a desire to catch Lee An’s eye, and the other half was curiosity as to why Lee An kept this guy by her side. What was so special about him?
“Alright, face each other and perform the forms you learned today.”
The two began the forms. While Yu Gwang performed the forms fast and powerfully as he usually did, Geom Mu-geuk moved with supreme softness, just as he had been taught today.
The problem was that Yu Gwang’s speed was much faster, making it seem like the fixed sparring wouldn't work. However, their exchange matched perfectly.
When Geom Mu-geuk performed alone, he seemed incredibly slow, but when he actually clashed with Yu Gwang, he wasn't slow at all. Thus, everyone assumed that Geom Mu-geuk had performed slowly before but was now moving quickly.
Only Lee An saw the truth.
His speed is the same as before. He only looked slow because he was moving so smoothly.
But what truly shocked Lee An happened next.
When performing the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique forms while facing each other, the swords were meant to collide during the third form. The moment the two wooden swords clashed in mid-air—
Sshhk.
The wooden sword Yu Gwang was holding was sliced cleanly through.
Yu Gwang was stunned, as were the onlookers. If a wooden sword were to break, it should have made a loud snapping sound. Instead, it sounded like a knife slicing through paper.
Yu Gwang was the most shocked of all. He looked down at his severed sword. The cut was as smooth as if it had been sliced by a real blade. There hadn't even been an impact when the swords met.
Was it already cut from the start?
That was the only way he could make sense of the situation.
Aside from the Sword King, the only one who realized the secret was Lee An. Geom Mu-geuk’s movements were as fluid as water, and that water was something that could never be ignored. The moment this water was concentrated in one spot, it became a force that could cut through anything. It was water that moved so fast it appeared to be standing still.
The Sword King’s reinterpretation—planting extreme strength within softness—was contained within the forms Geom Mu-geuk had performed.
A look of deep emotion crossed the Sword King’s eyes. By watching the demonstration just once, Geom Mu-geuk had perfectly absorbed his interpretation.
The Sword King strode toward Geom Mu-geuk.
You... you are worthy of dying by my sword!
His stride was such that it seemed he might draw his sword at any moment. As always, the hardest part of a fight with the Sword King was the moment when one had to do nothing.
Fortunately, there was no surprise attack this time either. Instead, the Sword King stopped directly in front of him and thrust his wooden sword forward. The gesture was clear: he wanted to engage in a fixed sparring match.
'What were you doing at this martial arts hall? What were you thinking when you appeared before me, and what are you thinking now as you lecture on martial arts?'
After staring at the Sword King for a moment, Geom Mu-geuk nodded.
'Are you truly a man who keeps his word?'
As if they had planned it, the two moved simultaneously.
Their movements were identical. The position of their swords, their speed, their footwork—it looked as if they were performing the forms in front of a mirror. If you were to overlap their movements, it would look like a single person.
The wooden swords grazed each other’s shoulders and faces. They executed the fixed forms exactly. A slight twist of the wrist would have resulted in a stab to the face, yet the two performed the forms precisely as intended. All the while, they stared only into each other’s eyes.
Finally, during the third form, their wooden swords collided.
Sshhhk!
The wooden sword in Geom Mu-geuk’s hand was sliced cleanly, just like Yu Gwang’s had been. With that same momentum, the Sword King’s wooden sword flew toward Geom Mu-geuk’s chest.
This was the wooden sword of the Sword King, no less. It was a lethal strike that could kill if it landed properly.
Sshhhk.
Before it could reach Geom Mu-geuk’s chest, the Sword King’s wooden sword also sliced like paper and fell to the floor. It had only fallen a split second later; in reality, both wooden swords had been cut simultaneously.
“Ah! So close!”
The Sword King hopped on his bare feet as if he were truly disappointed. What bloomed on his face wasn't anger. It was an indescribable ecstasy—the joy of being face-to-face with someone who could cut his sword.
“I was going to stab you exactly three times with this wooden sword. Surely a man trying to protect a lady won't mind a few bruises on his chest?”
Would it have been just bruises? If he had been stabbed three times by the Sword King’s wooden sword, he wouldn't even be able to stand.
Geom Mu-geuk replied with a smile, “It’s a good thing the wooden swords were old.”
“Then shall we try it with real swords?”
At the unexpected proposal, Geom Mu-geuk threw the Sword King’s own words back at him.
“Who would a newbie like me try to kill with a real sword?”
“That’s why this instructor is offering to be your opponent, isn't it?”
Srrrng.
The Sword King began to draw his steel sword.
“I heard that both an instructor and a student died in this class?”
At Geom Mu-geuk’s words, the steel sword stopped halfway out of its scabbard.
“Then who will die this time?”
“Going by the order, it should be the instructor’s turn.”
The two were smiling broadly at each other, but an invisible tension was reaching its peak. Just then, the bell signaling the end of class rang.
Clack.
The Sword King’s steel sword went back into its sheath. As soon as the bell rang, he spun around and left without a backward glance.
“See you tomorrow!”
The way he left happily was no different from the first day—a slacker instructor who lived only for the bell. To everyone else, all they saw were the shoes dangling from his waist.
The students gathered to examine the severed wooden swords.
“He must have cut them beforehand with a real sword.”
There was no way the White Dragon Unit instructor could cut a wooden sword with another wooden sword like that.
“Ah, come to think of it, the instructor brought these wooden swords himself, didn't he?”
“It’s obvious. Totally obvious.”
They all concluded that the instructor had pre-cut the wooden swords. They even looked at Geom Mu-geuk with suspicion, wondering if they were in on it together. They assumed the two had conspired to act like masters. After all, their final conversation hadn't been that of a normal instructor and student.
But Lee An could see it.
The same ecstasy that had bloomed on the Sword King’s face was now blooming on Geom Mu-geuk’s. Right now, that wasn't the face of the Young Cult Leader, but the face of a martial artist.
While everyone else thought it was a joke or a staged act—those two were truly fighting.