Chapter 61: The Fall of Plum Blossom Dragon (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 61: The Fall of Plum Blossom Dragon (4)
Crunch.
My feet sank into the grass-covered earth.
Slowly, I focused my strength into my lower body, starting from the soles of my feet. The power traveled upward, through my ankles, calves, thighs, and finally settled in my hips. I methodically tensed each muscle group.
For any martial artist—whether a swordsman, a fist fighter, or an archer—rooting one's strength in the lower body was fundamental. It was the very core of our discipline.
Once my stance was solid, I began to muster my qi.
-Swish-!
Flames erupted from the ground, swirling up my body in a violent spiral. As the wild fire threatened to rage out of control, I forcefully reined it in. Power without control was worse than useless; it was a liability.
I guided the Gu Flame Wheel Art through my meridians, and a seething ring of fire materialized around me.
[Not yet.]
Heeding Elder Shin’s warning, I pushed more qi outward, accelerating the ring’s rotation.
-Whoosh-!
My energy drained rapidly, but the flames grew hotter and more intense.
[Not yet.]
Even as the fire intensified, I had to maintain precise control to prevent it from scorching the surroundings. This discipline was crucial—being able to summon and dismiss my flames at will would be vital in a real fight.
After channeling my qi for some time, I felt it surge toward a specific point deep within my body. Near my heart.
…I’ve reached it already.
The realization stunned me. Destructive arts like mine granted explosive power, but they made breakthroughs exceedingly difficult. Had I not absorbed the power from the Mount Hua Sect’s treasure, breaking through to the Fourth Star of the Gu Flame Wheel Art would have been impossible.
Yet, my qi had already arrived at the gateway to my heart.
[Not yet.]
I nodded at Elder Shin’s command. Recklessness here would be fatal. I had to follow his guidance.
I heard him let out a low, incredulous smirk. He was as astonished as I was.
[…To think your qi has reached the heart already… Such monstrous talent is enough to give me goosebumps.]
Talent? In his eyes, this was innate gift. But only I knew it was the accumulated experience of a past life that brought me here.
Reaching the Peak realm required a martial artist to ‘open the heart,’ allowing qi to flow within and be sensed directly. Without sufficient qi reserves, the heart cannot be opened. And even with enough power, if the mind isn’t prepared to withstand the sensation of qi circulating through the heart, the body could explode from the backlash.
One needed both the power and the mental fortitude. I had the power. The fortitude… remained to be seen.
“Phew…”
The ring of fire around me now matched the intensity I’d used in my duel against Yung Pung the night before. The beginning of the Fourth Star. At this level, containing the heat from damaging the environment was a constant struggle.
Just as I wondered how long I could sustain it, Elder Shin’s voice cut in.
[…Stop.]
I immediately withdrew my qi back into my body. The flow ceased, but residual heat caused steam to rise from my pores.
“How was that?” I asked.
[This is your current limit.]
So this is it, huh?
What was I doing? Elder Shin had sensed something within me that grew volatile whenever I expended large amounts of qi. This was a test to gauge my limits.
From what I could tell, I could safely utilize the qi concentrated in my arms. Anything beyond that was still too much.
“…Hmm.”
No matter how I thought about it, I couldn't see a solution.
Will I find one after reaching the Mount Hua Sect? I wasn’t sure. But I had no other options. I had to go and see for myself.
[You worry too much. Just go and see what you can find.]
Elder Shin was right. Worrying was pointless. It was an old habit, born from a lifetime of stumbling into trouble.
I brushed the dust from my clothes, considering some light training. But then I sensed a presence approaching from behind.
I turned to find a familiar face.
“Young Master, did you sleep well?”
It was Yung Pung, wearing a refreshing smile as if last night’s defeat had never happened.
[Woah…]
Elder Shin’s surprise mirrored my own. I’d expected him to be weighed down by the loss… yet here he was, completely at ease.
Had he overcome the defeat so quickly? Or did he never truly care?
[What do you think?]
I couldn’t help but frown at Elder Shin’s rhetorical question. We both knew the answer. Yung Pung had sorted through his thoughts in a single night. He hadn’t figured everything out, but his aura was noticeably calmer, his expression more serene.
This is why I dislike geniuses…
I hate every single one of them.
Oblivious to my thoughts, Yung Pung bowed his head.
“Master Yung Pung…?”
“Thank you,” he said.
“What for?”
He offered an awkward smile. “I may not know what I did to deserve it, but I realize you were trying to teach me a lesson.”
[Woah! Woah!]
Please be quiet.
My frown deepened.
“…Young Master?” Yung Pung called out, confused by my expression. But I was the one feeling uncomfortable.
Yes, I had intended to help him, but I never expected such a profound change overnight. For him to bow so sincerely to someone younger, without a hint of hesitation… It was unsettling.
Of course, this enlightenment didn’t guarantee he would overcome future obstacles, but his chances had undoubtedly improved.
My stomach ached. It ached badly.
Here I was, grinding day and night after having died once… and this guy achieves a breakthrough just from losing a duel? In one night? I couldn't suppress my anger.
[Kid.]
…Yes.
[You’re looking hollow. You should stop…]*
…Tsk.
I pushed my bitterness down and spoke to Yung Pung. “That wasn’t my intention… but I’m glad you found value in it.”
He smiled in return. If Namgung Cheonjun exuded a dark, chilling aura, Yung Pung’s was downright ‘refreshing.’
Talented, handsome, and now even humble…
…Yeah, I definitely don’t like this guy.
[…Wow.]
“…I foolishly believed I was the greatest prodigy in the world,” Yung Pung continued. “But our duel made me realize the world is far larger than I imagined.”
He wasn’t entirely wrong. Gu Huibi was hailed as the top prodigy of our generation, but the age gap likely led Yung Pung to see himself as the best.
“You must have put in effort beyond my imagination,” he concluded, arriving at his own strange assumption. I wasn’t in a position to correct him.
I can’t very well say it’s all thanks to my regression, can I?
So I let him believe what he wanted.
“Words alone aren’t enough thanks,” he said. “If you have any request, I will do anything to fulfill it.”
“A request?”
Something to ask of the Mount Hua Sect’s greatest prodigy, the Sword Dragon…
An idea came to mind. This was perfect timing.
“In that case, Master Yung Pung, may I ask you something?”
“Oh? Of course. Anything, as long as it doesn’t involve the sect’s secret arts…”
“It’s nothing so significant.”
Secret arts, my ass. What would I do with something so useless?
[Useleessss? You little brat…! The Sword of Mount Hua is—]
“Master Yung Pung,” I interjected.
“Yes!”
“…Which generation is the current lord of your sect from?”
“…Huh?”
[…Huh?]
“I was just curious.”
I recalled Elder Shin had asked me the same thing. I’d forgotten about it, having no one to ask directly. But now the opportunity had fallen into my lap.
“Pardon?” Yung Pung looked as if something had broken inside him. He repeated the question, making sure he’d heard correctly. “…That’s… your request?”
“Yes.”
“…Oh.”
His face went completely blank, as if his soul had left his body.
What’s his problem? It’s a simple question. Did I say something strange?
I mentally reached out to Elder Shin, but he was silent for a long time before finally replying.
[Don’t talk to me. You’re an embarrassment.]
…What? Why?
In the end, Yung Pung answered with a thoroughly dumbfounded expression. The current sect lord was from the 16th generation. He insisted this didn’t count as fulfilling my request and urged me to ask for something else next time. I readily agreed—that was a win for me.
* * *
If there was one thing that bothered me after my duel with the Sword Dragon, it was the intense, curious stares from the Mount Hua Sect disciples.
Before earning his title, Yung Pung might have been inexperienced, but he was still a Plum Blossom Swordsman. To be soundly defeated by a boy with so much room to grow…
I’d expected the attention, but their gazes were more piercing than I’d anticipated.
“Yung Pung was beaten? By that kid?”
“I still can’t believe it. He was completely dominated.”
“I heard he broke his arm.”
“I heard he broke his legs, too.”
“But I saw Yung Pung walking fine earlier…”
“Never mind, then.”
“…You didn’t actually watch the fight, did you?”
Bizarre rumors began to circulate, but I trusted they would fade. It was just a spar, nothing more.
…I hope.
We were scheduled to depart for Shaanxi after lunch. The delay gave me time to experiment, so it wasn’t all bad.
In the distance, I saw the Gu Clan servants preparing the meal. Nothing extravagant, given the long journey ahead, but enough to fill our stomachs. That was all that mattered.
“…Huh?”
But as I drew closer, I noticed something odd.
Namgung Bi-ah had seamlessly integrated herself with our group. And Wi Seol-Ah was sitting next to her, nibbling at her food.
It wasn’t unusual for her to eat before me. That wasn’t the strange part.
The astonishing thing was that Wi Seol-Ah was ‘nibbling.’
…Is she sick? Seriously ill?
Namgung Bi-ah was also watching her with wide, uncertain eyes, but seemed unable to say anything and just ate quietly.
Whenever Namgung Bi-ah’s chopsticks moved toward a particular dish, Wi Seol-Ah would swiftly snatch it away.
Uh… maybe she’s not sick after all?
I was glad she seemed fine, but the problem remained. This little game of culinary keep-away continued until a visible question mark seemed to form above Namgung Bi-ah’s head.
“…??”
She tilted her head, pondering the child’s behavior. After a moment’s thought, she nodded to herself. Then, with blinding speed, her chopsticks darted out and secured a morsel of food before Wi Seol-Ah could react.
Wi Seol-Ah stared, utterly shocked at her failure.
But instead of eating it herself, Namgung Bi-ah brought the food to Wi Seol-Ah’s mouth. “Do you want to eat this…?”
No, from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like she’s acting this way because she’s hungry…
Namgung Bi-ah seemed genuinely perplexed. At this, Wi Seol-Ah’s eyes welled up with tears.
“Y-You’re so dumb, Sis!” she shouted, then turned and ran off—only to be caught almost immediately by Hongwa, who scolded her about unfinished laundry.
…Huh?
I felt like I’d just witnessed a scene from a stage play.
Namgung Bi-ah, still holding the chopsticks aloft, watched Wi Seol-Ah go before turning her gaze to me. Her eyes pleaded for an explanation, but I had none to give.
“…Don’t look at me. I have no idea what that was about.”
I wracked my brains but came up empty.
Oh, maybe… puberty?
[Sigh, you idiot.]
Elder Shin’s disdainful voice echoed in my head. I ignored it; I was used to it by now.
Later, as we resumed our journey to Shaanxi, Wi Seol-Ah became a slight hassle, sticking closer to me than usual for some reason.
…But I decided not to push her away. I had a feeling she would genuinely get angry with me if I did.