Chapter 95: Preparation (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 95: Preparation (4)
“I lost…”
The words escaped Yung Pung’s lips in a breathless, dejected sigh. He lay panting on the torn-up ground, which was gouged and scarred from their relentless duel. A pile of shattered wooden swords lay discarded to the side.
He had exhausted every drop of his qi. His body felt like lead, devoid of even the strength to lift a sword. They had started at dawn, and only now, with the sun long vanished beyond the horizon, had they finally stopped.
“Good work.”
Yung Pung looked up at the man who spoke.
…So strong.
That was the only thought his weary mind could form.
The martial skill of Muyeon, Gu Yangcheon’s escort, was simply astounding. With the tournament approaching, Yung Pung had welcomed the man’s challenge. But he had never expected such overwhelming power.
His thoughts drifted to Namgung Bi-ah, and he felt his cheeks grow warm with a flush of shameful memory. She had been the catalyst for his initial challenge to Gu Yangcheon, a confrontation that had ultimately led to his enlightenment. Yet, he couldn't help but cringe at the memory of his past, immature self.
It’s similar… but also a lot different.
He knew Namgung Bi-ah was a direct descendant of the illustrious Namgung Clan. But he had also observed a key trait: she trained without a shred of hesitation, whether anyone was watching or not. He couldn't tell if it was innate confidence or mere habit, but she seemed to welcome an audience, performing her swordsmanship with a flair meant to be witnessed.
Her style was a whirlwind of successive, unique slashes—the hallmark of a self-taught swordsman. From a technical standpoint, her forms were cluttered with unnecessary movements. Yet, her insane talent and flexible body transformed those flaws into strengths, creating a bizarrely effective style. At least, that was how it appeared to Yung Pung.
One undeniable fact remained: he knew he would lose if he fought her.
But this person…
Muyeon was the polar opposite. He was the picture of a rigorously trained martial artist with an unshakable foundation—an exemplary swordsman. Yung Pung saw the reason for his defeat clearly. Muyeon’s sword didn't rely on unique tricks or raw talent; it was built upon a rock-solid base. It was simply faster and heavier. There were no excuses.
There is no end to the world outside of the well, huh…
His pride had been shattered first by Gu Yangcheon’s talent, then fractured further by Namgung Bi-ah’s prowess. Now, facing Muyeon, he felt that familiar inadequacy once more.
There is no way to boost my confidence.
The title of 'Sword Dragon' felt like an increasingly heavy chain around his neck.
Muyeon approached, offering a hand. “Thank you. I was able to learn a lot from the duel.”
“…The thanks should be mine, Master Muyeon. You wasted your entire day on me,” Yung Pung replied, grabbing the proffered hand and pulling himself upright. He brushed absently at his dirt-caked clothes.
“I’ve stayed out too long. I should take my leave. Will you be returning soon?” Muyeon asked.
“Yes. I’ll train a bit more to clear my head, then return.”
It was the only way Yung Pung knew how to settle his disoriented mind.
Muyeon nodded and turned, descending the mountain path alone. The fresh night breeze washed over him, but his face remained an impassive mask.
It was the first time he had spent an entire day dueling instead of focusing on his duties as an escort.
What was the point of all this in the end?
Like Yung Pung, conflicted thoughts swirled within him. He had sought an answer through the duel, but all he found was a gnawing sense of guilt.
“An escort that’s good for nothing…” he muttered, the words thick with self-reproach.
How many times had Gu Yangcheon faced danger under his watch? Had he grown complacent, lulled by the perceived safety of a noble sect like Mount Hua? That lapse had led to the Young Master fighting a Peak Realm expert alone.
What hell was I doing?
He searched for an excuse but found none. The truth was simple: he had let his guard down.
What a useless guy I am!
Of course, Gu Yangcheon was adept at slipping away, and his martial prowess was reaching a level where an escort was becoming superfluous. But Muyeon knew that was just another excuse. He was Gu Yangcheon’s sword and shield. The Young Master should only be injured over Muyeon’s dead body.
It wasn't about passion for the Gu Clan or loyalty to Gu Yangcheon. This dejection stemmed from his own irresponsibility—a fatal flaw for a martial artist.
The life of a martial artist comes to an end once they lose themselves.
Those were the words of the almighty Sword Venerable.
Gu Yangcheon was growing stronger by the day. When Muyeon first met him, the boy hadn’t even reached the second-rate state. Now, less than a year later, he was a first-rate martial artist knocking on the door of the Peak Realm.
And himself? How many years had he spent stagnant, just trying to reach that same threshold? He had always believed time was on his side, that consistency would see him through.
…So when will that happen?
How powerless.
What was the point of his sword if he couldn't even protect the person he was meant to?
He felt lost, adrift just as he thought he’d found his path. His mind returned to the duel with Yung Pung.
I learned what my possibility was.
Unlike others, Muyeon had a keen eye for potential. He had seen Yung Pung evolving in real-time during their fight. At the start, Yung Pung missed half of Muyeon’s strikes; by the end, he was parrying them all. His openings, glaringly obvious initially, had vanished completely.
Yung Pung was disappointed, but Muyeon had been inwardly shocked. It wouldn't be long before Yung Pung reached his level, and perhaps even surpassed it.
Would I still be at the same spot even then?
Guilt and self-reproach washed over him again. He could visualize the immense wall separating him from the next level.
The demon that haunts my mind… Can I also see this as one…?
He stopped walking. The breeze beckoned him toward the lodge, but his feet felt rooted to the spot.
Just like this…
Just for a little, let’s rest.
He felt utterly drained. He decided he would rest here for a moment, then return and carry on as if nothing was wrong.
As he stood there, motionless, a sound reached his ears—a faint, rhythmic slicing through the air.
-Swish!
-Swoosh!
“Hmm?”
It wasn’t the wind. As a swordsman, he recognized the sound instantly. His frozen feet finally found the will to move, carrying him unconsciously toward the noise.
-Swish! Swoosh!
In a small clearing ahead, a figure was practicing with a sword.
…Why?
Muyeon’s eyes widened in recognition.
“Maid Wi…?”
It was Wi Seol-Ah. Gu Yangcheon’s personal maid, the girl with the pretty face who was doted on by all the servants. And here she was, alone in the mountains at dinner time, swinging a sword.
Why is she doing that?
-Swish swoosh swish!
Her form was full of unnecessary, cluttered movements, the clear mark of someone with no formal training. Yet, strangely, each swing carried a peculiar sense of power.
Is she just exercising? That was the only logical explanation he could muster for a servant.
-Swish…
Suddenly, Wi Seol-Ah stopped. She tilted her head in confusion, twisting her body as if searching for something. “Is this not it?”
“Huh…?” Muyeon wondered if she was talking to herself. It wouldn’t be out of character for her eccentric personality.
“It’s hard… but this seems right.”
Then, Muyeon gasped. The sword movement she executed next was flawless. From the initial stance to the final arc, the slash was perfectly clean and correct—a world apart from the clumsy swings of moments before.
What the…?
He doubted his own eyes.
“Doing it this way feels prettier and more comfortable, so why should I do it differently?” she murmured to the empty air.
Muyeon frantically scanned the surroundings, but felt no other presence.
“…I should just go to grandpa after all— …No, I’m not going to grandpa, he was mean to me.” Her face instantly soured at the thought.
Muyeon watched, stunned, as she performed several more basic movements. Each one was executed with impossible perfection. They were ordinary strikes, but there was something fundamentally different about them.
How can it be like this?
Ignoring the shocked observer, Wi Seol-Ah abruptly stopped. “Fine… I won’t do it.” As if chastised by an unseen master, she reverted to her previous, poor form.
Muyeon could watch no longer. He stepped forward. “Maid Wi…?”
“Oh! Brother Muyeon!” she exclaimed, waving happily, her bright smile confirming she was the Wi Seol-Ah he knew.
“What are you doing here…?”
“I’m learning to wield a sword!” she replied with unabashed cheer.
“From… who?”
“Well, from—” She stopped suddenly, her eyes rolling as if surprised by the question. “…I was doing it by myself.”
“Alone…?” She had clearly changed her answer. But as far as he could tell, she was indeed alone. While he was lost in thought, she changed the subject.
“Is brother Muyeon on his way back to the lodge? Young Master was looking for you earlier.”
“Oh…!” Another mistake. He forced a thin smile. “I neglected my duties today to train. I’ll go and apologize to the Young Master.”
“Huh? No, the Young Master said it was fine because it’s you! He didn’t mind at all!” She puffed out her cheeks in a comical imitation of Gu Yangcheon.
Muyeon almost reached out to pat her head, she looked so much like a cute little sister, but he stopped himself. Wi Seol-Ah was friendly to all, but she had clear boundaries, especially about physical contact. As far as he knew, only Elder Wi and Gu Yangcheon were permitted that familiarity.
As the moment threatened to turn awkward, Wi Seol-Ah asked, “So are you going back to the lodge now?”
He nodded. “Yes, I’ve rested long enough.” His eyes fell on the small wooden sword in her hand. “Uh, Maid Wi…”
“Yeah?”
“What made you suddenly decide to train with a sword?”
She blinked, thinking hard before answering. “The Young Master keeps coming back with more and more injuries. I think he’s constantly getting bullied.”
From minor scratches to the serious wound from that dangerous incident, seeing him hurt made her feel like her heart was being torn out. She hated that feeling. She hated the pain she felt for him, and hated even more imagining the pain he must be enduring.
“So I want to protect him.”
Muyeon was rendered speechless by the sheer simplicity of her declaration. Everyone knew Wi Seol-Ah held affection for Gu Yangcheon; it was painfully obvious. But doubts nagged at him. The movements he’d glimpsed were shockingly impressive…
But she’s just a maid in the end.
He clenched his teeth, suddenly disgusted with himself. Without realizing it, he had already begun to look down on her.
Oblivious to his inner turmoil, she smiled brightly. “I’m going to go down too! Young Master must be waiting for me.” She picked up her sword and skipped toward the lodge.
Muyeon watched her retreating back.
How pathetic of you, Muyeon. Thinking that others can’t achieve something when you yourself can’t achieve it either.
He knew her words were sincere, yet he’d harbored such petty thoughts.
Wake up. I still have a long way to go.
He couldn’t afford to collapse here. He shook himself from his reverie.
Phew…
He let out a long, deep sigh, trying to expel the negativity. But at that moment, Wi Seol-Ah, who had been hopping playfully away, stopped. She turned and walked back to him with an unnaturally dignified grace.
“…Maid Wi?” Muyeon instinctively took a step back.
The bright smile was gone, replaced by a cold, apathetic expression.
“That’s enough.”
“Pardon?” Her voice was several tones deeper than usual. What was happening?
Ignoring his reaction, she continued, “It seems you know what you have to do, so I don’t have anything to say about that.”
Her small, milky-white hand pressed against his chest. Muyeon tried to retreat, but his body froze solid for reasons he couldn’t comprehend. She didn’t even look at his face, her gaze fixed on his chest as she spoke in that eerie, deep voice.
“Don’t be stuck in just one spot. Sometimes you just have to break through it with brute force.”
-Tap
A light push from her dainty hand sent him stumbling back a step. A blunt impact suddenly bloomed in his chest, spreading throughout his entire body.
“Ough…!”
A surprise attack…? Why?
Bewildered, he instinctively gathered his qi, but the strange force vanished as abruptly as it had arrived. Rubbing his chest, he stared at her. “What are you suddenly—!”
But Wi Seol-Ah was back to her normal self, beaming at him. “Was what she told me to say to you!”
“…Who?”
She didn’t answer. She simply turned and ran down the path, disappearing from view.
“…?”
Muyeon stood alone, utterly confused. Was it just a joke? He never knew she was capable of such an act. He sighed, dismissing it, but her final words echoed in his mind.
What do you mean by breakthrough?
He tried to dismiss it as a prank, yet a part of him felt the words might hold a key. He paused, wondering if he’d just received some profound insight, then shook his head.
“If enlightenment were that easy… I wouldn’t have to worry in the first place.”
Yet, despite his words, the tangled thoughts in his mind felt clearer, as if washed away by her strange advice. Somewhat satisfied, he followed her path back to the lodge.
* * *
“…What is this?”
I was sitting on the floor when I saw Wi Seol-Ah return, followed shortly after by Muyeon. Earlier, Hongwa had told me the maid had gone for a walk, and I’d complained about her being let out so late. I’d been considering fetching her myself, but she returned before I could.
However…
“Did something happen?”
Muyeon, who came in after her, seemed a bit off. He looked deep in thought, but… Am I just mistaken? He felt strange. Maybe I’m just tired.
He noticed my gaze and approached. “…I’m sorry.”
“Huh? For what?”
“I took the day off without informing you. It won’t happen again.”
Oh, is that all? “You need rest sometimes. And I’m sure you were training anyway, right?”
“…”
“I’ll take your silence as a yes.”
I felt I was starting to understand Muyeon’s struggles, but I had no way to help him. His problem is different from Yung Pung’s.
If Yung Pung’s wall was his arrogance, which could be shattered from the outside, the wall Muyeon faced was an internal one that only he could break.
“If you need more rest, take it.”
“…No.”
“Okay.”
After assuring me he would resume his duties properly tomorrow, Muyeon left, presumably for night watch. I was concerned by the exhaustion on his face. Is it dangerous?
I guess I’ll have to try that later when I find the time.
I couldn't break his wall for him, but I hoped I could help in some small way. I normally wouldn't bother, but since it was Muyeon, it felt right. It would be a waste for his talent to never fully bloom.
Perhaps helping him now would be an investment in the future. As I concluded my thoughts, Wi Seol-Ah approached, freshly washed.
“Young Master!”
“…You.” I was about to scold her for wandering off alone at night, but I swallowed the words. “I worked hard tonight as well!”
“…Right, good job.” I pulled something from my pocket and handed it to her.
“…Huh?” Her eyes went wide as saucers.
Suddenly feeling embarrassed, I avoided her gaze. “It’s nothing much, but you’ve been working hard, so…”
It was a hair accessory that sparkled with a pure white light. I’d bought it when I went down to the Huayin market with Namgung Bi-ah and Wi Seol-Ah. I’d bought one for Namgung Bi-ah too, but hadn’t found a chance to give it to her yet.
“Y… You’re giving this to me?”
“You don’t want it? Then I’ll just give it to someone else—”
“Nooooo!” She snatched it from my hands and hugged it tightly, giggling like a fool. It was the first gift I’d given her in this life.
I was surprised by her intense reaction. Is she really that happy over a cheap hair accessory?
It made me want to ask Elder Shin for advice. …Would Elder Shin yell at me for this? He probably would.
Wi Seol-Ah pondered her gift, then got an idea and stared at me with her big, round eyes. Under that pressure, I had to ask, “Why are you staring like that?”
“Young Master.”
“Yeah…?”
“Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?”
“W-What?”
“Thank you!”
“Wait—! I didn’t say anything yet—”
Now that I thought about it, Wi Seol-Ah never listened to me anyway.
And the next day…
The day of the Mount Hua Sect’s annual tournament finally arrived.