The Future Embodied in the Sword (1)
“Quite different from the temple, isn’t it?”
The middle-aged woman’s voice was kind, yet her eyes held a strange, fervent gleam.
The impression she gave was contradictory. Her tone suggested the compassion of a heavenly bodhisattva, but the hungry light in her crimson gaze felt anything but serene.
“Gaining enlightenment through rigorous training and inquiry is paramount. Yet look at the world. Across this vast land, people utterly unlike us burn their lives away, living each day with fierce passion.”
“......”
“Thus, there is much good we could never have imagined, and just as much evil beyond our wildest dreams. While my own enlightenment matters, the sword I wield for the sake of the world holds equal worth.”
The middle-aged woman glanced sideways.
Beside her stood a young woman dressed in identical robes and wearing the same bamboo hat.
“The Wisdom Sword does not reside only within oneself. Observing the world, finding wisdom that remains unshaken amid its chaos, and severing the afflictions of all people—that too is vital.”
“......”
“Do you understand what I am saying?”
Only then did the young woman speak.
“I don’t really understand.”
“You don’t?”
Once her lips parted, words flowed from the young woman like a clear mountain stream.
“To witness the evil in the world and, with the resolve to slay evil, lend a little weight to the good that has grown light. To take that single act of chivalry as courtesy, teach it to the world, and in doing so draw closer to one’s own enlightenment—was that not the very spirit of Botam?”
“It is a tradition that has upheld this temple’s centuries of history, and one of many wise perspectives.”
“Yes, exactly. That is Botam.”
“It was Botam. I am not denying the past. The past was right in its time. However, those who possess power yet do not use it to benefit the world—those who see the weak groaning in pain yet choose to live only for themselves—cannot be considered righteous.”
“Is that so.”
“Once more, I am not rejecting Botam’s past. Back then, that path was correct. But when the era changes, so too must our values. We needed to recognize this.”
Even as eras shift, some values remain unchanging.
The young woman wanted to ask her teacher, Those with power cannot escape responsibility, right? I agree. That truth has tormented me constantly. But Master, Aunt—did you truly come to the Central Plains to eradicate the evils of the world?
Jeong-an truly struggled to comprehend the words and actions of her elders. More precisely, she did not want to accept that they had changed.
To her, both her master and her aunt had been wiser and kinder than anyone else.
That was not all. Though their factions differed, both had engaged only in friendly rivalry, devoting their entire lives to the ceaseless eradication of inner afflictions through self-cultivation.
She did not respect them merely for their powerful martial arts. Jeong-an genuinely believed the elders of Botam deserved reverence. So she had served them, followed them, and patterned her conduct after theirs.
But now?
“Even if you have realized the time for change has come, I believe we must proceed with even greater caution. Rapid transformation always exposes fissures.”
“A child is drowning and flailing right before your eyes. Yet the temple’s strict rules compel you to turn away. Would you call that the right choice?”
“I don’t think that analogy fits.”
“In the end, it is the same. Whether the scale is small or large, our Botam has turned a blind eye to the good who suffer because of evil.”
Hwa-un continued in a tone laced with regret.
“I too wish to say that the past conduct and history of our main temple were right. You cannot imagine how much inner torment I endured before I could acknowledge those faults. You, who forgot the world in order to challenge for the position of the next Sword Queen, will find it difficult to understand our pain and anguish.”
This was exactly it.
This was the precise point where Jeong-an felt the elders of Botam had changed.
The elders had never dismissed or rejected others for being young or lacking in learning. They had never insisted that only their truth mattered or forced their words upon others.
On the contrary, they had often said there was more to learn from a child’s pure gaze. They had encouraged their juniors to look not at them but at themselves, cherishing and nurturing them. That was what the elders of Botam had been.
Even if their true hearts had differed, they had always been cautious with such statements. How could they have changed so much?
Jeong-an let out a quiet sigh.
“I truly don’t understand.”
“If you don’t understand, then leave it at that. You need only train day and night as you always have, so that you may become a divine sword worthy of the Sword Queen’s position.”
Hwa-un’s eyes sparkled once more.
It was a worldly glare blazing with thick desire—something that should never appear in the eyes of one who follows the Buddhist path.
“We will handle everything else. We shall bear all the suffering, so you must not fall even slightly behind the competitors from the other factions.”
“......”
“Do you understand?”
Jeong-an gave no answer. No matter that this was her aunt, she had no desire to lie.
Watching her, Hwa-un sighed.
“You will understand one day. Without fail.”
“......”
“Let us go.”
The two walked on in silence.
How much time passed?
“We’ve been expecting you.”
Ga Deuk-sang offered a short bow.
Hwa-un’s expression stiffened slightly. There was a clear gap in both age and seniority between them. Ga Deuk-sang might be the Junior Beggar Leader of the Beggars’ Sect, but she was an active elder guiding one of Botam’s factions.
No matter how customs differed by region, this seemed rather problematic.
No. Hwa-un shook her head inwardly.
They were the ones in need. Her faction had sent her here to secure the Martial Alliance’s support. Moreover, the man before her was the de facto leader of the Alliance’s information network.
There was no need to quibble over greetings. Hwa-un replied in a warm, benevolent voice.
“Is this the place?”
“It is.”
“Very well. Please lead the way.”
“Understood. Ah, but who is this beside you?”
Hwa-un glanced at Jeong-an.
Jeong-an bowed her head.
“I am Jeong-an of Botam.”
It was a rather stiff greeting. One might see it as rude, or perhaps simply the behavior of someone unfamiliar with the ways of the world.
Hwa-un spoke in a gently scolding tone.
“He is the successor of the world’s greatest beggar sect—the Hundred Thousand Beggars’ Sect—and an advisor to the Martial Alliance’s information division. Greet him properly.”
Despite the rebuke, the subtle note of satisfaction in her voice was unmistakable.
Ga Deuk-sang waved his hands dismissively.
“It’s fine. What does a greeting matter? There’s no need to bow your head so deeply to a mere beggar.”
“Still…”
“Successor or not, a beggar is still a beggar. We don’t know etiquette or much of anything else. Don’t worry about it and please come inside.”
“If you insist… I understand.”
Hwa-un bowed slightly and entered the residence with Jeong-an.
Watching their retreating backs, Ga Deuk-sang narrowed his eyes.
“…Puhul! The world really is full of geniuses. Every time I turn around it’s either a genius or a monster. Aigo, I won’t even be able to puff out my chest anymore.”
Grumbling, Ga Deuk-sang vanished from the spot with a quick twist of his body.
In a world teeming with geniuses and monsters, Ga Deuk-sang himself continued to grow stronger with each passing day.
The moment the two women stepped into the residence, a sudden cool breeze washed over them, halting their steps.
Whooooooosh!
The heavy gust seemed to freeze the humid air of Guangdong.
Both Hwa-un’s and Jeong-an’s eyes lit up at the same time.
Vwoong! Vwoong!
A massive axe tore through the air, leaving clear afterimages in its wake.
The wielder moved with minimal motion, yet the axe he swung so casually radiated terrifying power.
He held it in one hand. The other was clasped behind his back. The weapon, large enough to match a man’s torso, looked as light as a willow switch in his grip.
And the speed of those swings was gradually increasing.
Vwoooong! Vwoooooooooong! Vwoaaaaaaaang!
The sound the Mad Dragon Axe made as it ripped apart the atmosphere was utterly chilling.
It moved so fast that both the axe and the arm swinging it blurred. From a distance, one might mistakenly think the arm had been severed.
Gasp!
Shock flooded Jeong-an’s face.
This is impossible!
Hwaaaaaaaaak!
The powerful wind bursting from the axe caused no harm to people or surroundings. The moment it erupted, it shook the air and vanished.
Yet the residual force of its weight gave birth to a fierce gale.
The density of the true energy lingering within that gale—the traces of explosive force—left Jeong-an stunned.
It’s not merely power. Every single movement is perfectly harmonized with unimaginable true energy. If someone tried to block that thinking it was a simple attack, their sword would shatter and their body would be crushed instantly.
Cold sweat trickled down the back of Jeong-an’s neck.
It was definitely not from the heat.
Dear heavens… Not only is he wielding such a colossal weapon like a swift sword, but in that instant he is releasing such intricate patterns of explosive force. And he’s doing it every single moment!
Jeong-an was deeply shaken.
In her eyes, the young man’s age and appearance faded away. All she could see was the domineering force radiating from the axe, the softness contained within that force, and the transcendent skill of energy emission hidden inside the gentle flow. Her soul was utterly captivated.
How long had it been?
Bang!
The axe did not slow gradually. It simply stopped dead at one moment. The abrupt halt caused the air to explode with a deafening roar.
“As expected, it still isn’t enough.”
The calm voice shook Jeong-an to her core.
“It is terribly lacking. The form looks decent, but the true energy is still chasing after the movement. The will must lead the energy, and the energy must lead the form. Yet because I have not reached the pinnacle of the martial path, both will and internal energy lose their way, wander, cry out, and vanish.”
Yeon Hojeong turned his head and looked at Jeong-an.
He did not spare Hwa-un a single glance. His eyes were fixed solely on Jeong-an.
“Don’t you agree?”
“…?!”
“Or does it look even more insufficient than I thought?”
Jeong-an answered as though in a trance.
“It doesn’t look insufficient at all. It looks excessively, overwhelmingly complete.”
“Is that so?”
Yeon Hojeong gave a bitter smile.
“How regrettable.”
“Why?”
“I had hoped one of you would be stronger than me. I had also hoped both of you would be passionate martial artists capable of looking at pure martial arts before today’s discussion. However…”
Yeon Hojeong glanced briefly at Hwa-un.
“No matter how I look at it, neither of your swords seems capable of reaching my axe. Moreover, one of you is bound not by martial arts or enlightenment, but by worldly desires and greed.”
“…!!”
“In any case, I have been rude from the first meeting. I apologize.”
Having lowered the Mad Dragon Axe, Yeon Hojeong offered a precise, disciplined salute.
“I am Yeon Hojeong, Grand Commander of the Martial Alliance’s Yugun Unit. I greet the honored guests from Botam. Please, come inside—”
At that moment, Jeong-an stepped forward.
“Shall we test it?”
“Hm?”
“Whether my sword has reached your axe or not—shall we find out right now?”
Yeon Hojeong glanced at Hwa-un.
Her face had hardened noticeably. She was displeased that her disciple had stepped forward without consulting her, completely absorbed in martial pursuit.
The corner of Yeon Hojeong’s mouth curved upward.
From their eyes, speech, and auras alone, he could instantly tell what kind of relationship they shared.
“Then let us consider it an appetizer to enrich our coming discussion. Shall we exchange a few light moves?”
“Gladly.”
Paahak!
Jeong-an charged toward Yeon Hojeong without so much as a backward glance.