Meng Yuon (2)
“Thanks for the offer, but... I’m nothing compared to you two. I’d just get in the way.”
I’d put real effort into the proposal, but his response was disappointing. Meng Yuon turned it down with a somewhat hollow expression on his face.
‘Ah, right. Meng Yuon’s the type with low self-esteem early on.’
Despite having potential on par with the Heavenly Dragon Sovereign Sword, Baek Muhon, his background as a beggar orphan wandering the Central Plains and his origins from a minor sect had given him a severe inferiority complex. On top of that, Peng Jincheon and I were standout talents even in the advanced class, so he saw himself as inferior and lacking by comparison.
And there was one more thing.
‘Meng Yuon once nearly killed an opponent in a spar at the Fighting Sword Sect when he was young.’
That trauma had led him to seal away his own potential and true strength, unable to unleash it unless he lost control in a frenzy. For all sorts of reasons, he’d set his own limits.
“Anyway, thanks. I’ll be...”
As Meng Yuon forced a smile and tried to brush it off, I blocked his path with a smack.
“Hey? What’s this?”
Meng Yuon looked up at me in surprise, and I spoke with utter sincerity.
“Running away like that means you won’t gain anything. You’ll lose everything you cherish.”
And it wouldn’t end there. He’d ultimately be crushed by the very calamity he invited upon himself, plummeting to depths beyond reach.
“You wouldn’t understand! Born with talent and a family—what do you know?!”
Did my words strike a nerve? Uncharacteristically, he snapped, yelling louder than I’d ever heard.
“Just leave me alone!”
Startled by his own outburst, he panicked and bolted.
Whoosh!
Peng Jincheon and I silently watched Meng Yuon flee into the distance.
“He seems like a good kid, but awfully clumsy.”
“Yeah.”
The Sword Ghost Meng Yuon was an unforgivable figure, but the current Little Affectionate Swordsman Meng Yuon hadn’t committed any sins yet. He was just a timid boy who deeply loved and cherished his sect.
I might lean toward the belief in innate evil over innate good, but I trusted I could change Meng Yuon’s future.
—Meng Yuon’s a truly pitiful character. He’s the classic example of how much a person can degenerate, despair, and transform under harsh circumstances. Even my maternal uncle, who created him, evaluated him that way.
Even if it was shaped by the novel’s plot, my uncle might have felt a subtle guilt about it.
‘That’s probably why he placed him in my path.’
To ask me to change Meng Yuon’s fate, perhaps? Once again, I read the grand flow. In the world of Seven Falls, Eight Rises: The Invincible Fist King, there was destiny, but no coincidences.
Thud, smack!
The next time I saw Meng Yuon, as expected, Namgung Cheol and Oh Daese were ganging up on him with their lackeys.
“A swordsman who can’t even draw his blade properly—you’re a cripple.”
“You’re a disgrace to Cheonmu Academy, and to the advanced class.”
“How the hell did trash like you make it to advanced?”
Turned out he’d slipped up or hesitated during a real-sword duel that felt like actual combat. In the original story, Meng Yuon never faltered with wooden swords, but he’d fumble even minor things with a real blade—the epitome of a timid type.
“I told you to stop embarrassing the advanced swordsmanship class.”
Namgung Cheol wasn’t advising for the class’s sake. Punching Meng Yuon hard in the chest with a gleeful smile, he was clearly reveling in it for his own pleasure.
“Is that how they teach you in your Fighting Sword Sect?”
He even dragged the Fighting Sword Sect into it—the one Meng Yuon treasured like his life.
Meng Yuon, originally a beggar orphan wandering the Central Plains, had been warmly welcomed by his master and seniors there. To him, the Fighting Sword Sect was more precious than anything, something he had to repay no matter what.
He snapped.
“Oho? Got mad?”
“What if you did? Hahaha.”
Namgung Cheol waved it off with a laugh, but the damage was done.
“Fighting Sword Sect’s way out in Sichuan Province, right? Should we wipe ’em all out?”
“Same area as our Sichuan Dang Clan? I’ll poison the lot.”
“Killing off a pathetic sect like that wouldn’t even take an hour.”
As the lackeys kept crossing lines, Meng Yuon’s eyes began to glaze over.
“Stop... stooop...”
And then.
Shing!
Unable to hold back his rage, he drew his sword into a ready stance.
When timid, he feared hurting others even in practice and fumbled his draw. But now was different.
‘No good. The violent demon inside Meng Yuon had awakened.’
I could tell at a glance. His pupils rolled back, revealing white sclera, his hair standing on end—just like described in the original.
“This crazy bastard drew his real sword?”
Confident in his swordsmanship, Namgung Cheol from the Namgung family grinned and drew his own, eager for the fight. With the justification of Meng Yuon striking first, he figured he’d teach him a real lesson.
‘Idiot. Meng Yuon’s leagues beyond the likes of you.’
Namgung Cheol was strong, no doubt—a capable swordsman who earned some fame mid-story. But Meng Yuon’s potential rivaled Baek Muhon, surpassing even Cheonmu Academy’s top late-stage talents. Plus, in the original, he was the first protagonist killed by the demon-possessed Sword Ghost Meng Yuon wielding a demonic sword.
[From the Fighting Advance Swift Dragon Sword Method]
The moment Namgung Cheol drew, Meng Yuon launched a preemptive strike. This was from the Fighting Sword Sect’s Fighting Advance Swift Dragon Sword Method—outstanding despite the sect’s modest size.
A swift sword style that perfectly matched Meng Yuon’s pursuit of extreme speed.
Whoosh!
The draw-to-throat slash was so swift it sent chills down the spine.
Caught off-guard, Namgung Cheol barely twisted away without proper defense.
But he paid the price.
Drip...
Meng Yuon’s blade had already grazed the back of his neck, drenching it in blood.
“Y-You madman! A killing blow? Trying to murder me?”
Shivering in terror at how close he’d come to decapitation, Namgung Cheol trembled uncontrollably.
“Die.”
Meng Yuon didn’t waver. His eyes were fully rolled back, possessed by his demonic side.
This had escalated because Namgung Cheol’s gang had pushed him to the brink—and threatened his irreplaceable Fighting Sword Sect family.
Meng Yuon had resolved to kill them all before he shattered.
Whoosh!
What made Meng Yuon truly terrifying was this: his insanely fast sword qi. Even seasoned experts could lose their heads in a blink.
From that small, innocent face and frame poured death’s scythe-like speed—shocking beyond words.
“Argh!”
Unable to handle the second strike, Namgung Cheol’s gang retreated, spilling more blood.
Too late, they realized they’d poked a monster beyond their league.
“Run!”
“He’s lost it!”
Terrified, they fled. But regret always comes too late.
Thud, thud. Meng Yuon, fully berserk, danced his deadly blade. Without mutual sacrifice, they couldn’t handle him.
Fear amplifies in groups, and with their leader wounded, deserters abounded.
Bloodshot, Meng Yuon pursued to slaughter them all.
Crash!
Namgung Cheol tripped over a rock while fleeing.
“H-Help!”
He reached for his minions and friends, but they were too busy running.
This remote spot, far from the main academy building, had no instructors or guards to intervene—chosen precisely to torment Meng Yuon unchecked. Who’d foreseen the tables turning?
“The Fighting Sword Sect... my master and seniors are good people. They raised an orphan like me and taught me martial arts.”
Muttering, Meng Yuon slowly pointed his sword at the fallen Namgung Cheol.
“Meng Yuon. Yuon-ah. Spare me. If you kill me, you’ll be expelled from Cheonmu Academy!”
Only now, desperate, did Namgung Cheol plead—but it fell on deaf ears.
And expulsion would doom the Fighting Sword Sect’s revival, fueling Meng Yuon’s rage further.
“I’ll kill you. Anyone who harms the Fighting Sword Sect won’t live.”
Reaffirming his vow, his feral white eyes flashed.
Swish!
Gripping his sword anew, he assumed the stance for his signature Fighting Advance Swift Dragon Sword Method.
Its extreme speed was evident even in the preparatory draw, aimed straight at Namgung Cheol’s neck.
Whoosh!
Fueled by grudge, Meng Yuon thrust again for the kill—
Boom!
Suddenly, a fist shot toward his blade. Mine, naturally.
I’d watched silently, hoping Meng Yuon could handle it alone, but it was impossible.
Once his demonic side awakened, someone had to rein him in.
“Meng Yuon. They’re the ones in the wrong, but you still need to know your limits.”
Calmly clashing fists and loosening up, I knew my words wouldn’t reach his frenzied state.
“Wh-Who...? Anyone who stops me... I’ll kill...”
Meng Yuon had two sides: the world’s most timid, pure Little Affectionate Swordsman—an angel—and buried within, the inferiority-driven, rage-filled, abuse-twisted Sword Ghost.
“I get your situation, but that’s far enough.”
Crack, pop! I readied my fists against him.
I understood his pain, but this wasn’t right. More importantly, this path led straight to the original story’s tragedy.
Killing or maiming Namgung Cheol meant expulsion. Plunged into self-doubt, Meng Yuon would never rise again—easy prey for those tempting him with demonic swords.
I’d change it all.
“I’m going to set you straight now, so follow along properly.”
With that, I threw the punch I’d been holding back for.
[No ordinary punch. The fist to reshape the pathetic Sword Ghost Meng Yuon’s future.]
My full-force punch crashed down toward the berserk Meng Yuon.
Kaboom!