The Value of the Profound Realm -1
Still, there were several other factors to weigh.
Elder Un-jong had only just stepped into the Profound Realm yesterday. Claiming he had fully adapted to that stage would be a stretch. Against a true, seasoned master of the Profound Realm, the outcome might have been entirely different.
Best to stay dead quiet in front of a Profound Realm expert from now on.
"Right. That sure snapped me awake. Thanks for showing me that reaching the Profound Realm isn't the end of the road."
"Not at all. Just being allowed to share a simple wager with you was already an honor. Where else would I ever get to play yabawi against a Profound Realm master?"
"Hahahahaha."
I had come to a fresh realization myself: in this Murim Cheonha, higher martial realm was everything. The ability to read a person's intent just by looking at them—what kind of broken power was that? It was the sort of ability that made you understand why martial artists fell so hard for the "martial arts solve everything" mindset.
"Well, I've learned my lesson thoroughly, so this afternoon I'll teach you with everything I've got."
"Yes. I'll be in your care."
Confirming Elder Un-jong's capabilities had lit a fire under me as well. The idea that one could eventually sense the hearts of others was motivation enough on its own. And the fact that a Profound Realm master would be the one teaching me only added another layer of drive.
I had a feeling this afternoon's training was going to go unusually well.
Lunchtime.
Lately the elders of the Jeomchang Sect had been rather busy. On top of their regular duties, they took turns reviewing Ho Cheon-an's martial arts, spent half a day learning sleight of hand, and still had to look after the children—the very reason everything had become so hectic in the first place.
For elders who replaced meals with elixirs, lunch was a time to sip tea, trade stories with fellow elders, and enjoy a bit of mental rest.
Today's topic was Yeo Il-ye, whose name had finally reached them again after a long silence.
"I hear she crippled the martial arts of that fellow called the Wolyado Bandit."
"Haa… Il-ye seems to be carving her own path well enough, at least."
To the elders, Yeo Il-ye was a sore spot. They were glad she had broken free of the chain of hatred, yet she had lost an eye in the process and was still wandering the dusty rivers and lakes settling old grudges. It was not something they could simply smile about.
All they could do was breathe a quiet sigh of relief whenever word arrived that she was doing well.
"That wandering warrior has deep ties with the Jeomchang Sect."
"It must be the care of our future successors."
After a brief discussion of Yeo Il-ye's deeds, the conversation naturally shifted to Ho Cheon-an—more precisely, to his sleight-of-hand lectures.
"Learning something new at this age is pure torture!"
"When it was just theory I had no idea what was going on, but now that we're practicing it's a little better."
They grumbled at length about Ho Cheon-an's gambling-technique classes, yet pride still showed on their faces. By performing little magic tricks they had drawn closer to the children, and the children in turn had grown fond of them.
Kids who once froze solid the moment an elder approached now spoke to them naturally—chattering about their daily lives, cautiously seeking advice on worries, sharing their thoughts.
There was a certain satisfaction in wrapping their heads around something new in their twilight years.
"Still, lately the lessons have gotten easier to follow, haven't they?"
"Martial artists learn best with their bodies, after all."
These were men who had spent their entire lives swinging swords and grasping truths through pure physical practice; a single hands-on drill stuck far better than any long-winded theory.
Ho Cheon-an had realized that as well and gradually shifted toward practice-heavy sessions, which lightened the burden on the elders considerably.
"His constitution really is a pity."
"Looking at how quickly his body is finding balance, the physical side is solid enough. It's the control of qi that's…"
The talk moved from Ho Cheon-an's classes to his martial arts. Here was a man who had freely shared both enlightenment and his own manual skills. The elders wanted nothing more than to cleanly solve his problems, yet no clear method presented itself.
"Gentlemen."
When Elder Un-jong spoke, every gaze turned to him.
"Would you listen to me for a moment?"
The request came out of nowhere, but the others nodded. This was Elder Un-jong, a man a full step above them in martial arts.
"No one can guarantee the level of achievement our wandering friend will reach."
"Mm… true enough."
His difficulty controlling qi stemmed from his very constitution; there was little the elders could do about it. Yet at this rate, any real breakthrough remained distant.
"That is why I believe a decision is required. How long will it take him to achieve something under these conditions, and how long before he leaves the Jeomchang Sect's care? As things stand, there is no end in sight. Extraordinary measures are needed."
"…Un-jong, what exactly are you saying?"
The elders' expressions hardened at the ominous turn. Elder Un-jong studied their faces and spoke slowly.
After hearing his words, every elder's face turned to stone.
"Do you… truly believe that is the right path?"
"It is the path for everyone. If only one person is sacrificed… everything becomes clean."
While the others kept silent, Elder Un-jong rose to his feet.
"The sect leader will understand. I will handle everything myself, so do not worry."
"Mm…"
Elder Yeong-yul watched Un-jong's retreating back, then let out a long, complicated sigh.
"Primordial Heavenly Lord…"
"Senior, we'll be off then!"
"Sure. Eat lots of good food while you're out."
Heukmyo announced that the rice crackers had run out and that she would head down the mountain with Hyeok Gi-rin. Hyeok Gi-rin herself looked faintly excited at the rare outing. Nearly three weeks had passed since they began living at the Jeomchang Sect. Heukmyo had arrived with her pack stuffed full of rice crackers, yet between the children she doted on and the ones she kept feeding to Hyeok Gi-rin, the supply had already dried up.
The kids had accepted the crackers with rather complicated expressions, but Heukmyo seemed happy just to have them take any. Rice crackers weren't bad, exactly… they just weren't the flavor children preferred. Watching those kids chew with awkward faces, I figured they were mostly eating them as a show of affection toward Heukmyo.
Anyway, the fact that she was sharing the rice crackers she used to hoard for herself was probably a sign that Heukmyo's social skills were improving.
Even setting aside that useless analysis, both Heukmyo and Hyeok Gi-rin needed rest. For the past three weeks they had trained without missing a single day; a few days to catch their breath was only fair.
"Haa."
Heukmyo was growing by the day. When I happened to mention her to Elder Un-jong, he had said she would "soon enter the Super-Peak Realm"…
My own progress, on the other hand, was crawling. Daily dragoon drills and splits had brought real results on the physical side. When I performed Bright Moon Sword Art, Banyugok Sword, or Ilcheon Sword Art as warm-ups, the forms flowed far more stably than before.
Qi control, however, had barely advanced.
My understanding of the principles behind the Single Flash Blue Cloud Sword had risen considerably. In dialogues with the elders I could now offer answers of a decent level.
In my head I could map the flow of qi, yet the moment I tried to embody it in actual forms everything fell apart.
I had mastered the outer shapes of all twelve forms of the Single Flash Blue Cloud Sword, but whenever I attempted to express the inner principles in continuous sequence, power, speed, and control still wavered mercilessly.
With no results to show, the thought of resting never even crossed my mind. I wasn't pushing myself to the point of wrecking body or mind, so I might as well keep working hard.
"Wandering warrior. You were here?"
"Oh? What's up?"
On the way back after seeing the two of them off, I ran into Changmin.
"The elders asked me to bring you."
"Hm?"
"We need to go as far as the mid-slope of Unjeong Peak. Shall we set out?"
The sudden mountain trek was unexpected, but I nodded. Lately the elders had been throwing all sorts of variations at me for the sake of my progress. Come to think of it, I had never trained on a mountain thick with pure energy; maybe it would help.
Changmin lightly unfurled his movement technique, and I followed with my own.
"Your physical balance has improved quite a bit. Compared to when you first arrived at the Jeomchang Sect, the change is dramatic."
"I have to improve somewhere."
"Then I'll pick up the pace a little."
"Hey, hey! Slow down!"
Changmin was talented enough to be designated one of the next generation's Ten Successors. He was younger than me, yet in overall capability he was probably several steps above. Even racing up the rough mountain path he kept a stance so stable it looked as if his feet were glued to the ground.
I, meanwhile, was just hopping and scrambling after him.
We climbed in silence for about an hour before Changmin's feet finally stopped.
"Haa… haa… here?"
A flat clearing halfway up the mountain. The scenery was so picturesque that a hermit could have built a hut here and no one would have found it strange.
Training in a place like this really did feel like it might go well. I wiped sweat and caught my breath while looking around, then a question struck me.
"When is the elder coming?"
"He isn't."
"What? Self-study today?"
These elders… after I taught them magic tricks so diligently, they just call it self-study? This is pure educational neglect!
I turned with that thought—and saw Changmin drawing his sword.
Shiiing.
Reflexively I drew my own blade and settled into a defensive stance—the guard form of the Banyugok Sword.
"…What is this."
"Hoh. I thought you were pure fluff… but I suppose you really are the Sichuan Wanderer."
Killing intent.
It clung to Changmin's eyes and the tip of his sword.
That was why my spine had reacted on its own, drawing the blade and locking into a defensive posture. An instinct carved into me by years of living as a wandering warrior.
"Do the elders know you're doing this?"
"They wouldn't. But, wandering warrior— the Jeomchang Sect is not made of elders alone."
What did that mean? No— that didn't matter right now. Changmin's killing intent was far too thick and sticky to be an act.
"Don't, kid. It's true my realm is lower than yours. But have you ever actually killed someone? Stop this while you still can."
"It's nothing to brag about, but I've… managed killing well enough. At least enough experience to cut a life without hesitation."
"…Why are you doing this? Is this your own decision?"
"It might be. Or it might not."
Changmin continued in a calm voice.
"Wandering warrior, you should have known when to stop."
"…What?"
"The others may not, but I had at least a little contact with you. Sleight of hand? Certainly outstanding. But you were never the sort of person who could bestow enlightenment on Junior Sister Yeo Il-ye or Elder Un-jong. No matter how I thought about it, you weren't."
"That was coincidence—!"
"Yes, coincidence. Of course it was coincidence. But… once you seized such undeserved luck, you should have known moderation. Why did you set impossible conditions and block the Jeomchang Sect's path forward?"
A crooked smile twisted across Changmin's face.
"You are enjoying the treatment of a benefactor of the Jeomchang Sect. Truly shameless. As the Sichuan Wanderer, did you not witness the events that shook Sichuan Province? Did you not stand right beside us and watch the crisis the Jeomchang Sect faced? If Junior Sister Yeo Il-ye and the Sichuan Governor had not upheld justice, our sect would have been completely pushed out of Sichuan's power structure."
"…"
I gave no answer. Or rather, I couldn't. Changmin's killing intent was growing sharper and more refined by the second— a ferocious pressure no less savage than any true wandering warrior's. The moment my concentration on his every move slipped, I felt I would be skewered by the Four-Day Sword Art the Jeomchang Sect prided itself on.
Killing intent so thick it was hard to believe he was a disciple of a Taoist sect. Did this kid have a story of his own too? I was going insane.
"Is that all? The merchants of Sichuan Province dared to speak of Junior Sister Yeo Il-ye's flaws. And Senior Sister Hyeok Gi-rin went to each of those merchants one by one, pleading and bowing her head. When I heard that, the rage nearly choked me."
Changmin's stance shifted. His center of gravity dropped; he drew the sword level across his chest. The ready form of the Four-Day Sword Art, poised to spring forward and thrust at any instant.
"Once word spreads across the Central Plains that Elder Un-jong has reached the Profound Realm, the way people look at the Jeomchang Sect will change. We will finally cast off the shame of barely clinging to the Nine Great Sects and perhaps even leap to the foremost sect under heaven."
"Yet days passed and our sect never announced Elder Un-jong's ascension. They simply poured everything into teaching you. Watching that, I understood. It is because of this man that they refuse to publicize Elder Un-jong's breakthrough."
Changmin's toes moved. I poured every ounce of strength into the Continuous Flying Step Art and vacated the spot.
Paat!
A tearing sound of air, and a sharp sting at my throat.
"Huuuuk!"
I barely managed to catch my breath. The blade itself had not touched me, but a razor-sharp sword wind had grazed my neck. I had survived by a hair's breadth.
"The elders will not come here. They believe you went down the mountain today with the young lady and Senior Sister. And the other disciples will keep them so buried in work that they won't have a moment to think."
Changmin spoke with perfect calm.
"So just die quietly."
His sword shot forward like an arrow.