The Smell Outside the Mountain Gate

Meat was excellent. The moment Seoryeong opened her eyes the next morning, that was the first thought that came to her. There hadn't been much meat at dinner the night before. Just a single small plate. A few thin slices. Stir-fried in soy sauce with green onions—an especially fine side dish by Cheongseong Sect standards. But for Seoryeong, that alone had been intense enough. After days of nothing but rice, greens, tofu, and clear broth, the salty, oily taste of meat still seemed to linger somewhere in her mouth.

Seoryeong sat on her blanket and thought seriously for a moment. Meat is strong. Austerity is strong too, but meat works in a different way. Austerity makes you endure longer; meat makes you want to move again. So are both forms of training? Seoryeong tilted her head. If she was thinking this far, she must have been influenced by the Cheongseong Sect a little. Before, it had simply been "tasty if it tastes good" or "want to eat when hungry." Now she was connecting meat to training. A bit strange. But not unpleasant.

In one corner of the room stood the wooden halberd. The practice mokgeuk with its blue cord. Beside it was the ebony pole. At her bedside lay the broken spearhead. Seoryeong picked up the broken spearhead first. Last night, she had spoken to it. I went a little farther. Those words still lingered in her heart.

The wooden spear she had carried when leaving the village was no longer a complete weapon. It had broken during her match with Mak Cheol, and now only the tip remained. Yet Seoryeong had not discarded it. A faint trace of the village's scent still clung to that spearhead. Her father silently heading out to the fields in the morning. The rice cakes her mother pressed into her hands. The time she first carved wood into the shape of a spear. All of it was embedded in the broken tip.

The mokgeuk was the road ahead. The ebony pole was a bridge she had received on the path through the martial world. The broken spearhead was the beginning. If she forgot the beginning, the road itself might turn strange. Seoryeong set the spearhead down and picked up the mokgeuk. She did not swing it today either. First she lowered her breath. Then she placed her feet. She tried to receive the mokgeuk's weight not with her hands, but with her entire body. It felt a little more natural than yesterday. Still far from perfect. But the feeling that the weapon was dragging her along, the way it had when she first held the mokgeuk, had lessened slightly.

Seoryeong looked at the tip of the mokgeuk and whispered, "Let's not break it today either."

Hwarin's voice came from beyond the door. "That's a very good resolution."

Seoryeong looked toward the door. Hwarin was already awake. When she opened the door and stepped inside, she naturally nodded upon seeing Seoryeong holding the mokgeuk without swinging it. The sight seemed to have grown somewhat familiar to her now.

"You look like you're in a good mood after eating meat yesterday."

Seoryeong nodded. "I like meat."

"I know that."

"Are you coming out today too?"

Hwarin immediately shook her head. "No."

Seoryeong's expression sank ever so slightly. "Why."

"Yesterday was a reward for passing the first gate. If it happens every day, it stops being a reward."

"Then if I pass again, you'll come out?"

"Probably."

Seoryeong's eyes lit up again. "When's the next gate?"

Hwarin couldn't hold back a laugh at her reaction. "Your motivation is far too obvious."

"I like getting stronger too. I like meat too."

"As long as you like both, that's fine."

Hwarin picked up the hair ribbon. "Hair today as well."

Seoryeong sat down naturally. She was truly getting used to this now. While her hair was being tied, Seoryeong gazed quietly out the window. The morning at Cheongseong Sect was still clear. But today, a faint commotion mixed with the air. The sound of wooden swords from the training ground was the same as usual. The smell of rice from the dining hall seemed to drift over as well. Yet from the direction of the mountain gate came an unfamiliar scent. Dust. Horses. Sweat. And the smell of the martial world beyond.

Seoryeong lifted her head slightly. Hwarin stopped her hands. "What's wrong?"

"Outside smell."

Hwarin's expression changed. "What kind of smell?"

"The smell of officials. Horse smell. Strangers."

Hwarin listened for a moment. Though it was a distance difficult for ordinary people to hear, even within the Cheongseong Sect, the area near the mountain gate felt slightly busier than usual.

"It seems we have outside guests."

"Strong?"

"I don't know yet."

Seoryeong moved her nose. "A little of a strong smell."

While finishing tying her hair, Hwarin said, "Don't approach them carelessly today."

"Why."

"If they're outside guests, they may belong to other sects. And rumors about you have already spread quite far beyond these walls."

"The one about chewing people up?"

Hwarin closed her eyes. "Including that."

Seoryeong spoke seriously. "I still haven't chewed anyone up."

"I know."

"Do I have to tell them?"

"This time, you don't need to say it yourself."

"Why."

"If you say it, it might become even stranger."

Seoryeong didn't fully understand, but she nodded. Rumors are strange. They become strange whether you speak or stay silent. The martial world is truly complicated.

By the time breakfast began, the commotion near the mountain gate had already become the main topic among the disciples. Cheongmyeong's eyes were sparkling even before he started eating. "Did you hear? Late last night, another rumor came in from an inn in Sichuan."

Dogyeom immediately said, "Refrain from noisy talk during meals."

Cheongmyeong closed his mouth. But it was obvious his face was itching to speak. Seoryeong ate a spoonful of rice, then looked at Cheongmyeong. "What rumor?"

Dogyeom looked at Seoryeong. "Be quiet during meals."

Seoryeong immediately closed her mouth. Yet her eyes remained fixed on Cheongmyeong. Cheongmyeong spoke in a very small voice. "I'll tell you after the meal."

Dogyeom glared at him. Cheongmyeong closed his mouth again. Hwarin ate quietly, but her expression had hardened slightly. Outside rumors. An inn in Sichuan. The Hyeol-un-pal-sik. The Baekryeon Sword Sect. These words were no longer light. Just because they were inside the Cheongseong Sect didn't mean everything was over. On the contrary, if word spread that the manual had entered the sect, gazes from beyond the mountain gate might gather even more intensely.

Seoryeong sensed it vaguely. After the meal, Cheongmyeong spoke as if he had been waiting. "This time, the rumor about the silver-haired monster has changed a little."

Seoryeong looked up. "How?"

"At first it was that she chewed up the Black Snake Guild, then that she doesn't chew people up at the Cheongseong Sect, and……"

Hwarin pressed her forehead. "Don't summarize it like that."

Cheongmyeong cleared his throat. "Anyway, this time it's spreading that the silver-haired monster received the mokgeuk in front of the Cheongseong elders and stopped it a hair's breadth from someone's neck."

Seoryeong thought for a moment. It wasn't entirely wrong. The part about stopping a hair's breadth from someone's neck had been in a dream, and in reality it had been a pillar or Cheongmyeong's hand, but stopping a hair's breadth away was correct. "A little right."

Hwarin immediately said, "Only a little."

Cheongmyeong continued. "But it seems the outside world is interpreting it differently. Stopping a hair's breadth from the neck can also sound like she could kill at any time but chose to spare them."

Seoryeong tilted her head. "I stopped because I didn't want to kill."

Dogyeom ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠said, "There are people who don't see it that way. In the martial world, even mercy can sometimes sound like a threat."

Seoryeong mulled over those words. Mercy. Threat. Cheongmyeong said that stopping was scarier. That not touching something you could touch was scarier. Then even stopping could become a threat if it turned into a rumor. Strange. She had learned how to stop, yet the outside world found even that frightening.

Hwarin spoke quietly. "That's why you must be even more careful. What you do is important, but how others see you is also important in the martial world."

Seoryeong frowned. "Complicated."

"Yes. It is complicated."

"Then I just have to explain everything?"

"That explanation will become another rumor."

Seoryeong's face truly looked exhausted. Perhaps the hardest opponent in the martial world wasn't swords or poison, but rumors. You couldn't hit them.

Cheongmyeong added cautiously, "And the guests who arrived at the mountain gate today are probably here because of that rumor."

Hwarin's gaze turned cold. "Who are they?"

Cheongmyeong lowered his voice. "I heard it's one of the sects that received a message from the Baekryeon Sword Sect. I don't know exactly yet, but the elders have gone toward the mountain gate."

Baekryeon Sword Sect. Seol Hajin. The scent of incense. Seoryeong's eyes sank slightly. Hwarin didn't miss the change.

"Seoryeong."

"Yes."

"Today, you will not step forward first."

"Why."

"It could become a matter between orthodox sects. If you get involved, things will grow larger."

"Didn't they come because of me?"

Hwarin couldn't answer right away. That wasn't entirely wrong. The Hyeol-un-pal-sik was at the Cheongseong Sect, and rumors about Seoryeong were spreading. It couldn't be said that Seoryeong had nothing to do with why outside sects had come. But that didn't mean it was a problem Seoryeong should step forward to handle directly.

"Even so, you must not step forward first."

Seoryeong thought for a moment. Speak with words first. But sometimes, Hwarin or the elders had to speak first. If she spoke directly, it might become even stranger. "Then I wait?"

"Yes."

"Is waiting also fighting?"

Hwarin smiled. "It is."

Seoryeong nodded. Another fight. Since coming to the Cheongseong Sect, nothing had not been a fight. Etiquette was a fight. Patience was a fight. Footwork was a fight. Breathing was a fight. Waiting for meat was a fight. Enduring rumors was a fight. Waiting was a fight. Seoryeong touched the mokgeuk once. Today might not be a fight of swinging.

On the way to the training ground, the smell from the mountain gate grew clearer. There were outsiders. Several of them. The scent of martial artists. The smell of neatly trimmed clothing. Horses and dust. And a very faint medicinal scent. Different from Seol Hajin's incense, yet similarly orderly.

Seoryeong tried to look that way. Hwarin spoke quietly. "Forward."

Seoryeong straightened her head. "Yes."

"Well done."

Praise was good. But the mountain gate smell continued to bother her. When they arrived at the training ground, Elder Ungak was already waiting. Today the training ground was somewhat emptier than usual. Some disciples seemed to have been called toward the mountain gate. Elder Ungak's expression was sharper than usual. Elder Unso was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the Sect Leader.

Seoryeong performed a fist-palm salute. "Yes."

Elder Ungak looked at her for a moment. "Your greetings and answers are still mixed."

"It's difficult."

"Still better than before."

Seoryeong's eyes brightened slightly. "Praise?"

Elder Ungak let out a very small sigh. "A little."

Today wasn't a bad start either. Elder Ungak immediately began training. "Today you will hold the mokgeuk and breathe."

Seoryeong looked down at the mokgeuk. "Sitting?"

"Standing."

That was better, at least. But she soon realized it wouldn't be easy. Elder Ungak had her raise the mokgeuk forward. Not swinging, not thrusting, simply holding it at a fixed height. "Lower your breath and receive the weight with your feet. Keep the tip of the mokgeuk from shaking."

Seoryeong took the stance. At first it was fine. The mokgeuk was heavy, but she could hold it. As time passed, however, her arms began to tremble. The tip shook little by little. When she tried to steady the shaking with her hands, her shoulders rose.

"Shoulders."

Seoryeong lowered them. Then the tip of the mokgeuk drooped.

"Tip."

She raised it again. Her breath rose into her chest.

"Breathing."

She lowered her breath. This time ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her feet pressed too hard against the ground, stiffening her knees.

"Knees."

Seoryeong loosened her knees slightly. The tip of the mokgeuk shook. It was truly difficult. Far harder than simply swinging. She couldn't understand why holding still was so exhausting. Elder Ungak spoke. "The strength to endure lasts longer than the strength to swing. If you wish to use a long weapon, you must first learn to endure."

The strength to endure. Similar to what Mak Cheol had said. A heavy weapon isn't wielded by the strong, but by those who know how to endure. Seoryeong did not grit her teeth. Gritting her teeth would block her breath. She had learned that too. Instead, she lowered her breath. Her arms trembled, her shoulders tried to rise, her wrists wanted to tighten. But her feet. She received it with her feet. The shaking at the tip of the mokgeuk lessened ever so slightly. Elder Ungak watched in silence.

Cheongmyeong, Dogyeom, and Cheongmu were also watching from the edge of the training ground. Today, even Cheongmu wasn't just observing. He too was holding a wooden sword in the same stance, enduring. It seemed Dogyeom had ordered it. Seoryeong glanced at Cheongmu. Cheongmu was also sweating. Their eyes met. Cheongmu spoke quietly. "Look forward."

Seoryeong immediately looked straight ahead. Help. Cheongmu had told her. It was a little strange. Training continued for a long time. Enduring. Breathing. Stopping the tip of the mokgeuk. Slowly raising it and stopping a hair's breadth away. No one was knocked down, yet her body grew increasingly tired. Then, from the direction of the mountain gate, the sound of a bell rang. Dang-lang. Very faint, but Seoryeong heard it. Different from Seol Hajin's silver bell. Yet it was the sound of a bell. Seoryeong's hand shook ever so slightly. The tip of the mokgeuk nearly dropped. Elder Ungak immediately said, "Don't shake."

Seoryeong lowered her breath. "Yes."

The smell from the mountain gate drew closer. Someone was coming toward the training ground. Outsiders. Two. No, three. One of them was strong. Not that strong, but above Cheongmu. Similar to Dogyeom, or perhaps in a slightly different direction. Another was weak. And the last one had a strange smell. Medicinal scent. Incense. Metallic scent.

Seoryeong wanted to look. But she was holding the mokgeuk. Elder Ungak spoke. "I know what you've sensed. But maintain your posture for now."

Seoryeong blinked. Elder Ungak knew what she had detected. "Yes."

People appeared at the entrance to the training ground. A Cheongseong disciple led the way. Behind him came three unfamiliar martial artists. The first was a middle-aged man. He wore a deep navy robe, and two short swords hung at his waist. His eyes were sharp, his steps light. The second was a young woman. She wore clothing mixing white and pale yellow, and held a small fan with bell ornaments. The bell sound came from that fan. The third was a thin old man. He looked more like a physician or pharmacist than a martial artist, yet his eyes were excessively clear. The medicinal and metallic scents came from him.

The guiding disciple performed a fist-palm salute to Elder Ungak. "Elder. The guests were passing the training ground on their way to Cheongheo Hall when they expressed a desire to greet you briefly."

Elder Ungak's gaze turned cold. "We are in the middle of training."

The middle-aged man performed a fist-palm salute. "My apologies. I am Wi Jin-pyeong, a guest elder of the Namgung Clan."

Namgung. A low murmur spread through the training ground. Seoryeong didn't know the name. But from the other disciples' reactions, it seemed to be a great name. Hwarin's expression also hardened. The Namgung Clan. One of the great orthodox families. Wi Jin-pyeong had said he was a guest elder. Not a direct member, but someone who came bearing that name.

The young woman performed a fist-palm salute. "I am Yoo Ran, a disciple of the So-unmun."

The thin old man lightly bowed his head. "I am Gwakno, the lowest-ranking member of the Medicine King Valley."

Medicine King Valley. This time, not only Hwarin's but also Elder Ungak's gaze shifted slightly. A force famous for medicine and healing arts. A power that martial artists did not lightly antagonize. Gwakno looked at Seoryeong. More precisely, at Seoryeong's hands and eyes as she held the mokgeuk and endured. His gaze held a sharp curiosity. Seoryeong was still holding the mokgeuk. Her arms hurt. But there was no order to put it down. Since Elder Ungak had told her to maintain the posture, she would maintain it.

Wi Jin-pyeong looked at Seoryeong and said, "Is that child the one from the rumors?"

Elder Ungak's voice lowered. "She is currently a child receiving training at Cheongseong."

Wi Jin-pyeong gave a slight smile. "I see. For someone in training, that's quite an interesting posture. Holding a mokgeuk like that and enduring."

The woman named Yoo Ran lightly shook her fan. Dang-lang. A bell sound rang. Seoryeong's pupils moved ever so slightly. She remembered Seol Hajin's bell. The movement where the sound and actual foot position didn't match. Incense. A cold sword. But now it was different. Training ground. Mokgeuk. Posture. She did not shake. Yoo Ran laughed. "She reacts to the bell sound."

Hwarin's gaze sharpened. "Does the So-unmun teach that disturbing someone's senses during training is proper etiquette?"

Yoo Ran's smile stiffened slightly. "My apologies. There are so many rumors that my curiosity got the better of me."

Seoryeong was holding the mokgeuk. Her wrists trembled. But it wasn't because of the bell sound. It was because of the weight. She was a little angry. They had tested ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her. She didn't like it. But she had been told not to step forward first. Waiting was also fighting. Seoryeong lowered her breath. The tip of the mokgeuk stabilized ever so slightly. Gwakno saw this and his eyes lit up. "Ho. Her senses reacted first, but she suppressed it with her breath. Interesting."

Wi Jin-pyeong crossed his arms. "It seems she isn't just simple brute strength like the rumors say."

Brute strength. Rumors. Monster. Seoryeong was listening. In the past, she would have asked. Am I a monster? Or said. I haven't chewed anyone up. But now she was holding the mokgeuk. She was in the middle of endurance training. If she wavered with words, the tip of the mokgeuk would waver. If the tip wavered, she would lose. Even though the opponent wasn't holding a sword right now, this was a fight.

Wi Jin-pyeong said to Elder Ungak, "If it's not too much trouble, may we observe this child's training for a moment? We would also like to confirm how different the rumors are from reality before meeting the Sect Leader."

Elder Ungak answered coldly. "The training of Cheongseong disciples is not a spectacle."

"I heard she isn't a disciple yet, though."

The air grew chilly. Hwarin's hand moved near her sword sheath. Dogyeom's expression also hardened. Cheongmu furrowed his brow. Cheongmyeong had completely wiped the usual amusement from his face. Seoryeong heard those words. Not a disciple yet. That was true. She had passed the first gate, but admission had not yet been granted. Yet why did she feel strange? The people of the Cheongseong Sect had been gradually accepting her. Elder Ungak had also called her a child receiving training. But when an outsider said she wasn't a disciple yet, it strangely made her uncomfortable. It felt as if those words were pushing away what Hwarin and Elder Ungak had said. The tip of the mokgeuk shook ever so slightly. Elder Ungak's voice flew out sharply. "Jin Seoryeong."

Seoryeong lowered her breath. "Yes."

"Look at the tip. Don't look at people."

Seoryeong looked at the tip of the mokgeuk. The shaking lessened slightly. Elder Ungak spoke to Wi Jin-pyeong. "As long as she is receiving training at Cheongseong, whether she is a disciple or not is not for guests to judge."

Wi Jin-pyeong's gaze shifted slightly. He smiled, but there was an edge in that smile. "Is that so. Then I'm even more curious. How far the Cheongseong Sect intends to accept this child."

Gwakno spoke quietly. "Guest Elder Wi, your words are too harsh."

Wi Jin-pyeong shrugged. "The rumors are harsh, so the words must be harsh as well."

Yoo Ran folded her fan. "We didn't come to create conflict. The fact that the Hyeol-un-pal-sik is at the Cheongseong Sect has spread through the martial world, and many sects are concerned. And that such a child is by its side as well."

Seoryeong narrowed her eyes slightly. Such a child. Seol Hajin had said something similar. A dangerous child. A child that must be controlled. This time it was similar. Hwarin took a step forward. "Express that concern to the Sect Leader at Cheongheo Hall. It is not a matter of evaluating a child in the training ground."

Yoo Ran looked at Hwarin. "I heard that Lady Hwarin protects this child a great deal."

"It's not protection. I'm in the middle of teaching her."

"Is she a child worth teaching?"

The air in the training ground froze. Strength entered Seoryeong's hands. The tip of the mokgeuk shook. Hwarin's gaze sank coldly. Cheongmu muttered quietly, "That crossed the line."

Cheongmyeong also wore a rarely seen angry expression. Dogyeom was expressionless, but his hand was near his sword hilt. Before Elder Ungak could open his mouth, Seoryeong spoke. "She is."

All eyes turned to Seoryeong. The mokgeuk was still raised. Her arms were trembling. But her voice was strangely calm. Yoo Ran looked at Seoryeong. "What do you mean is?"

Seoryeong spoke while looking at the tip of the mokgeuk. "If you teach, she is."

Yoo Ran's eyebrows moved. "Are you speaking of yourself?"

"Yes."

Seoryeong lowered her breath. Speaking while maintaining breathing was difficult. But she did it. "I'm still difficult. Etiquette is difficult, breathing is difficult, rumors are difficult. The mokgeuk is difficult too."

The training ground was quiet. Seoryeong continued. "But I'm learning."

A simple statement. Yet those words settled strangely heavily in the training ground. Seoryeong didn't look at Yoo Ran. She was looking at the tip of the mokgeuk. Keeping the tip from shaking. "I haven't chewed anyone up, I haven't broken Cheongmu's wrist, I haven't hit Cheongmyeong's hand, and I haven't hurt the children. I haven't broken the mokgeuk either."

Cheongmyeong blinked, not expecting his name to come up at a moment like this. Cheongmu also wore a strange expression. Hwarin pressed her lips together tightly. Seoryeong said, "So she is."

Yoo Ran was silent for a moment. Wi Jin-pyeong's smile also faded slightly. Gwakno, on the contrary, showed deep interest. Elder Ungak looked at Seoryeong. She had stepped forward without permission. But she hadn't swung her weapon. She hadn't lowered the mokgeuk. She hadn't raised her voice in anger. She had spoken in her own words what she had learned. Her etiquette wasn't perfect. Yet it wasn't wrong. Elder Ungak spoke briefly. "Good."

Seoryeong's eyes brightened ever so slightly. Praise. But she still didn't release her posture. Yoo Ran slowly folded her fan. "……She speaks better than I thought."

Hwarin spoke coldly. "That is also a rude statement."

Yoo Ran performed a fist-palm salute this time. "My apologies."

Wi Jin-pyeong looked at Seoryeong for a moment, then said, "Very well. I'll speak again at Cheongheo Hall."

They followed the guiding disciple past the training ground. But as they passed, Gwakno paused briefly. He didn't approach Seoryeong, but spoke from a slight distance. "Child."

Seoryeong answered while looking at the tip of the mokgeuk. "Yes."

"Your body has a lot of heat. If you suppress fire for too long, it can burn from within. Don't only learn how to suppress it. Learn how to burn it properly as well."

Those words were strange. Seoryeong raised her head slightly and looked at Gwakno. Elder Ungak didn't stop her. Gwakno smiled. "Just the useless words of an old man from the Medicine King Valley."

He walked away again. The medicinal and metallic scents faded. The training ground remained quiet for a while. After the outsiders had completely disappeared, Elder Ungak spoke. "Lower the mokgeuk."

Seoryeong slowly lowered the mokgeuk. Her arms were almost numb. Because she had held it to the end. When she lowered the mokgeuk, her hands trembled. Hwarin approached and examined her wrists. "You overdid it."

"You didn't tell me to lower it."

Hwarin sighed. "That's true, but you can speak up when it's hard."

"I was in the middle of training."

Elder Ungak approached. "Was it your own judgment to speak?"

Seoryeong nodded. "Yes."

"Why did you speak?"

Seoryeong thought for a moment. Yoo Ran had asked if she was a child worth teaching. She hadn't liked those words. Hwarin had said she was in the middle of teaching, Elder Ungak had taught her, and the people of the Cheongseong Sect had gradually been looking at her. Yet an outsider had tried to dismiss all of that with a single phrase. Seoryeong hadn't liked that. But she hadn't hit them because she disliked it. She had spoken. "Hwarin said she was in the middle of teaching."

"And?"

"Those words are correct."

Elder Ungak looked at Seoryeong quietly. "You wanted to prove it?"

"Yes."

"With words, not with a weapon."

Seoryeong thought a little longer, then nodded. "Yes. Today I was told it was a fight of waiting."

The disciples in the training ground quietly listened to those words. A fight of waiting. A fight with words. A fight of holding the mokgeuk without swinging it. Elder Ungak nodded very slowly. "Well done."

Seoryeong's face brightened slightly. This praise was clear. Hwarin also smiled quietly. Cheongmu, with his arms crossed, said, "Did you really have to say you haven't chewed anyone up?"

Seoryeong looked at him. "It's important."

Cheongmu was momentarily at a loss for words, then turned his head. "Right. I suppose it is important."

Cheongmyeong held back a laugh and said, "I'm also glad my hand wasn't cut off."

"Yes."

Dogyeom added, "It's also important that the mokgeuk wasn't broken."

Seoryeong nodded seriously. "That's important too."

The air in the training ground loosened slightly. But Hwarin's expression didn't completely relax. The outsiders' visit wasn't light. The name of the Namgung Clan, the So-unmun, the Medicine King Valley. That they had come together wasn't a coincidence. Discussions about the Hyeol-un-pal-sik and Seoryeong would take place at Cheongheo Hall. And the result could influence Seoryeong's next path.

Elder Ungak resumed training. "Training continues today. The shaking you just did is also part of training. Pick up the mokgeuk again and take the posture."

Seoryeong shook her arms once. It hurt. But she could do it. She picked up the mokgeuk again. This time it felt a little heavier. Because the outsiders' words remained in her hands. Is she a child worth teaching. The child from the rumors. Not a disciple yet. Those words tried to shake the tip of the mokgeuk. Seoryeong lowered her breath. She kept only what was necessary. Elder Ungak's voice. Hwarin's presence. The soles of her feet. The weight of the mokgeuk. She let the rest flow away. Rumors too, she let flow away. The tip of the mokgeuk stabilized. Elder Ungak spoke. "That's it. Again."

When morning training ended, Seoryeong was completely exhausted. It was a different fatigue from yesterday's protection test. Today she had mostly just endured, waited, and spoken, yet both her body and mind felt heavy. It seemed the meeting with the outside guests at Cheongheo Hall was still ongoing. The air inside the mountain gate was slightly tense. Disciples whispered on the way to the dining hall. Seoryeong could hear them. Namgung Clan. Hyeol-un-pal-sik. Silver-haired child. Medicine King Valley. So-unmun. Baekryeon Sword Sect. The words mixed together. Seoryeong listened, then lowered her breath. She kept only what was necessary. What she needed now was rice. There probably wouldn't be meat, but she needed rice.

Lunch was, as expected, a meal without meat. Seoryeong was a little disappointed, but it didn't hurt as much as yesterday. Meat was a reward. It didn't come every day. She knew that much now. After the meal, Hwarin took Seoryeong to the medical hall. "We need to look at your wrists and arms."

"I'm fine."

"Whether you're fine or not is for the physician to decide."

"Yes."

Yu Soha was in the medical hall. She was practicing walking slowly again today. When Seoryeong entered, she tried to smile brightly, but was soon surprised upon seeing Seoryeong's arms. "Did you overdo it?"

Seoryeong looked down at her own arms. They were trembling slightly. "I was holding the mokgeuk."

Hwarin added, "Outside guests came to the training ground and the conversation dragged on, and she kept holding it the whole time."

Yu Soha's face hardened. "Outside guests……"

"A guest elder from the Namgung Clan, a disciple from the So-unmun, and someone from the Medicine King Valley."

Yu Soha swallowed. The fact that even the Medicine King Valley had come wasn't light. Seoryeong sat in a chair and held out her arms to the physician. The physician carefully pressed her wrists, arms, and shoulders. "There's no major damage. However, since your body is still growing, training with heavy long weapons for extended periods must be regulated."

Hwarin immediately said, "You heard that."

Seoryeong nodded. "Yes."

The physician applied an ointment that smelled of medicinal herbs. It felt slightly cool. Yu Soha sat beside Seoryeong. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I mean, yes."

"Did they say something rude from the outside again?"

Seoryeong thought for a moment. "They asked if she was worth teaching."

Yu Soha's expression darkened. Hwarin also fell silent. Seoryeong continued. "So I said she was."

Yu Soha looked at Seoryeong. "You said that yourself?"

"Yes. I mean, yes."

"Weren't you scared?"

Seoryeong tilted her head. "More than scared…… I was angry."

"Yet you held back."

"I was holding the mokgeuk."

"Is that the reason?"

Seoryeong thought a little more. "Hwarin told me not to step forward first, and that waiting was also fighting. But I thought I had to speak."

Yu Soha spoke gently. "You did well."

Seoryeong felt somewhat satisfied. Praise again today. Yu Soha was silent for a moment, then said, "I also used to think that everything turned out this way because of the manual I brought, and that I had done something wrong."

Seoryeong looked at her. Yu Soha looked down at her hands. "But now I'm trying to think a little differently. I kept my master's final wish and arrived at the Cheongseong Sect. What happens after that isn't something I can bear alone."

Seoryeong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nodded. "If it's heavy, you can't hold it for long."

Yu Soha laughed. "Yes. So I'm trying to put it down a little."

Seoryeong liked those words. Yu Soha was also learning. Both walking and putting things down. When they left the medical hall, Cheongmu was standing outside. He looked as if he had been deliberately waiting. Seoryeong wasn't holding the mokgeuk. Hwarin was carrying it instead. Cheongmu saw this and said, "Are your arms all right?"

"Yes."

"If you hold something heavy for too long, it breaks."

"The physician said that too."

"Listen."

Seoryeong looked at Cheongmu. "Is Cheongmu worried too?"

Cheongmu's face hardened. "What worry. It's because if you break, I can't have a proper match next time."

Seoryeong's eyes brightened. "Are we sparring again?"

"Someday."

"Nice."

Cheongmu sighed. "You're really strange."

"I hear that a lot."

Hwarin watched the two of them and smiled faintly. At first, they had seemed like they would only clash, but now they were concerned about each other in a strange way. In the afternoon, instead of formal training, they only did light breathing and footwork. Because Elder Ungak had instructed not to strain her arms. Seoryeong was a little disappointed, but she followed. Being disappointed was also a fight of enduring. She wanted to use the mokgeuk, but today she wouldn't. This too was being careful with what she liked.

As the sun began to set, it seemed the meeting at Cheongheo Hall had ended. People's presences flowed back inside the mountain gate. Wi Jin-pyeong, Yoo Ran, and Gwakno left Cheongheo Hall and headed toward the mountain gate. Seoryeong sensed their scents from afar. They didn't seem to be leaving immediately. They would probably stay at the Cheongseong Sect's guest quarters for a night. Before dinner, Hwarin was called to Cheongheo Hall and returned. Her expression was heavy. Seoryeong had been slowly practicing footwork in the courtyard of the separate building when she saw her. "Not good?"

Hwarin didn't answer right away. Then she said, "It's neither good nor bad. It's complicated."

"Complicated again."

"The martial world is originally like that."

"What did they say?"

Hwarin sat beside Seoryeong. "The outside sects raised questions about the Cheongseong Sect keeping the Hyeol-un-pal-sik alone. Some are advocating for joint sealing or surveillance."

"Joint?"

"It means several sects managing it together."

"Because they don't trust the Cheongseong Sect?"

Hwarin gave a small laugh. "In simple terms, yes."

Seoryeong furrowed her brow. "The Cheongseong Sect is trying to protect it."

"Not everyone believes that. And even if they do, they still want to have influence themselves."

"Influence?"

"The right to speak. The right to touch. The right to decide."

Seoryeong understood a little. The manual was small, but it attracted people. Just like the smell of meat attracted her. No, that was a little different. Anyway, the Hyeol-un-pal-sik called forth people's greed. "Then did they talk about me too?"

Hwarin nodded. "Your story came up too."

"Whether I'm worth teaching?"

"There were words like that, and also words questioning whether you should be near the Hyeol-un-pal-sik, whether you should stay at the Cheongseong Sect."

Seoryeong listened quietly. Strangely, she was less angry than before. No, she was angry. But it didn't surge up hotly right away. Was it because of breathing? Or because she had already spoken once today? "What did the Sect Leader say?"

"He said that as long as you're receiving training at the Cheongseong Sect, the Cheongseong Sect will take responsibility."

"What about Elder Ungak?"

"He directly said that he acknowledges you passing the first gate."

Seoryeong recalled Elder Ungak's face. Sharp and difficult. But lately he also gave praise. "Then it's fine."

Hwarin looked at Seoryeong. "It's not that simple."

"Why."

"The outside might not accept it."

"Then I have to speak again?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes fight?"

Hwarin was silent for a moment. "That could happen too."

Seoryeong's eyes changed slightly. Hwarin immediately said, "But not now."

"Yes."

"What you need to do now is train. The greatest answer you can give is not wavering."

Seoryeong looked at the mokgeuk. Today she had held the mokgeuk and endured in front of the outsiders. She had also spoken. But perhaps the greater answer was to keep learning. If they asked whether she was worth teaching, she just needed to show herself learning. That was the simplest thing. Seoryeong nodded. "Then I'll learn."

Hwarin's expression softened slightly. "Yes. That's enough for now."

There was no meat at dinner either. Seoryeong had expected it, so she wasn't greatly shaken. Of course, she was a little shaken inside. But she endured. Cheongmyeong saw this and said, "You're very mature today."

Seoryeong looked up. "Mature?"

Dogyeom explained. "It means a little more grown-up."

Seoryeong thought for a moment. Grown-up. Was that a good thing? Probably praise. "Praise?"

Cheongmyeong laughed and nodded. "It is praise."

Seoryeong nodded. "Thank you."

Cheongmu said from beside her, "But your face is a little dead because there's still no meat."

Seoryeong looked at Cheongmu. "That's sad."

"You said you were mature."

"Sad is sad."

Cheongmu laughed as if dumbfounded. That laugh now contained almost no mockery. After the meal, when Seoryeong returned to the separate building, she sat in her room and looked at the mokgeuk. Today had been strange. She had held the mokgeuk and endured for a long time. Outsiders had come. She had heard rude words. She had been angry but hadn't hit them. She had spoken. She had said that if you teach, she is. And then she had trained again. Those words kept lingering in her heart. If you teach, she is. Was that really true? Seoryeong still didn't know if she could truly become that. Becoming strong without making Hwarin dislike her. Controlling herself as Elder Ungak had said. Not being dragged by her senses as Cheonghyeonja had said. Enduring a heavy weapon as Mak Cheol had said. Burning properly as Gwakno had said. All of it was difficult. But difficult meant there was much to learn.

Seoryeong wanted to hold the mokgeuk, but she had been told to rest her arms today. So she didn't hold it. Instead, she picked up the broken spearhead. It was light. Too light. But this light fragment had existed before her current self. Seoryeong spoke quietly. "Today I spoke with words."

The spearhead didn't answer. Of course it didn't. But Seoryeong strangely wanted to say those words anyway. It felt like speaking to her former self. That today she had spoken without hitting. That she had held the mokgeuk without swinging it. Hwarin heard this from beyond the door but didn't come in. Seoryeong sometimes needed time to speak alone.

Night deepened. Seoryeong lay down and lowered her breath. She kept only what was necessary. Hwarin's presence. The mokgeuk. The ebony pole. The broken spearhead. She let the smell from outside the mountain gate flow away. She let the outsiders' words flow away. But Gwakno's words remained a little. If you suppress fire for too long, it can burn from within. Learn how to burn it properly as well. Seoryeong mulled over those words. Until now, she had mostly learned how to stop and suppress. Enduring. Stopping. Waiting. But fire wasn't something to extinguish completely. The fire inside her liked fighting, wanted to run when it saw strong people, and grew hot when holding heavy weapons. If she erased all that fire, she might not be herself anymore. Then what did burning properly mean? Seoryeong didn't know the answer. So the dream came.

A red battlefield. But this battlefield was a little different. There was fire. Not the fire that burned villages, nor the fire that consumed battlefields. It was the fire burning inside Seoryeong's chest. At first that fire was rough. It grew larger when it saw enemies, spread when holding weapons, and soared high when smelling blood. In the dream, Seoryeong was holding a weapon that might have been a mokgeuk or a halberd. In front of her were the shadows of outsiders. Wi Jin-pyeong's sharp smile. Yoo Ran's bell. Gwakno's clear eyes. And behind her were the people of the Cheongseong Sect. Hwarin. Elder Ungak. Cheongmyeong. Dogyeom. Cheongmu. Yu Soha. The young disciples. All of them were in different positions. Seoryeong raised her weapon. The fire grew larger. She wanted to swing it. She wanted to break all the shadows that twisted words, created rumors, and judged her. But in the dream, someone spoke. You mustn't only suppress. It sounded like Gwakno's voice. This time Hwarin's voice followed. But you mustn't burn as you please either. Elder Ungak's voice. Fire must also have a path. Fire must also have a path. Seoryeong looked at her feet. There were more flags on the battlefield. Blue flags. White flags. Red flags. The fire tried to spread toward the red flags. A dangerous place. A place she wanted to break. But if it spread there, the white flags would burn too. Even the people she had to protect. Seoryeong lowered her breath. She pressed the fire with her hands. Then the fire grew smaller. But when it grew too small, the weapon also grew heavy. Her strength drained away. This wasn't it. Completely suppressing wasn't the answer either. Seoryeong breathed in again. She didn't extinguish the fire. She didn't let it spread either. She made a path. Like the path beneath her feet. She made a path for the fire to go. Toward the blue flags. Stepping aside from the people she had to protect. Burning danger, but not burning people. At that moment, the fire in the dream gathered long. Not wildly spreading flames, but like a red line flowing along the blade of a halberd. Seoryeong swung her weapon. The fire followed. It didn't burn the entire battlefield. It only cut exactly where necessary. And stopped a hair's breadth away. The fire also stopped. Within that stopping, a door appeared. The door that had been open a hair's breadth, seen in last night's dream. This time, a faint red light leaked from inside the door's gap. Seoryeong didn't break the door. She didn't burn it with fire either. She simply stood before the door and lowered her breath. The door opened a little more. Seoryeong saw the shadow of a giant halberd inside. Still far. But a little clearer than yesterday. Seoryeong opened her eyes. The room was quiet. It was before dawn. The weight of a weapon remained in her palm, and the sensation of fire remained in her chest. But that fire didn't run wild like yesterday. It was searching for a path. Seoryeong slowly exhaled. Burning properly. She still didn't know. But she felt like she knew a little. Fire also needs a path like feet. It also needs stopping like hands. It must settle downward like breath. Seoryeong closed her eyes again. Outside the mountain gate, the outside smell would still remain. The words and rumors of the martial world would continue to move. But now she could sleep again. When tomorrow came, she would learn again. If you teach, she is. So she learns. That simple conclusion quietly held Seoryeong's heart.