Chapter 44
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: This Sword Holds an Incredible Legend and Tale
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Patting the back of the junior brother who had slumped his shoulders again, I offered him an alternative.
“Hey, how about this? We slap a legend on your sword so the other juniors will envy it and call it something special. A backstory that looks impressive.”
“…A legend?”
“The sword stuck in a rock that only a hero could pull out—let’s say you drew it. How’s that? Sounds pretty cool, right?”
No way the Excalibur legend exists here, so no plagiarism accusations.
“How about saying it’s the sword that slayed a dragon instead?”
At the voice chiming in from behind, I nodded.
There was a hint of sarcasm, but that was just how the owner of that voice always talked, so I ignored it.
“Oh, that’s pretty good too.”
“You’re hopeless.”
Biryeong, the one who’d suggested yet another legend for the sword, pressed a hand to her forehead.
Ignoring her, I gestured for the other juniors arriving one by one at the training ground to gather around.
“Hey, hey, you guys too—come up with some stories to attach to this sword.”
“Why attach stories to a sword?”
“Bidam’s embarrassed that his looks like some beat-up old thing. So we’re jazzing it up with a bit of embellishment to make it special?”
Soon enough, usable ideas started popping up here and there at my explanation.
“Say it slew a twin-headed serpent! Or a man-faced spider!”
“What twin-headed serpent? At least make it a corrupted imugi for it to count as a legend.”
“A legend’s gotta have the ‘cursed and sealed away’ backstory, right?”
“Yeah, yeah—so what’s the curse? Curse of blood? Curse of darkness?”
As expected, putting our heads together made short work of legends and tales for the sword.
In the end, Bidam’s sword got saddled with this epic legend: ‘A sword that slew a dragon along with dozens of other legendary beasts and hundreds of spirit creatures, absorbed so much blood it was cursed and sealed away, then pulled from the rock by one hero to write its history while awaiting the next—a seriously badass sword.’
“Wow, that’s awesome.”
Clapping enthusiastically, I got a weak mumble from Bidam, who sat there looking like he’d completely given up.
“What’s the point… All the senior brothers know it’s a lie…”
Huh, true. Turns out all the story sources were from us Bi juniors.
Talk about the hosts becoming the guests. What a shame.
* * *
A whole month had passed since my attempted kidnapping incident.
“Don’t you think the masters have been drilling us even harder lately? Is it just our master?”
During self-training time after our master oversaw our practice.
One junior’s offhand comment sparked agreement from all around.
“Same here. I just barely scratched the surface of Falling Petals Sword, and now he’s pushing me to reach the fifth proficiency in a week.”
“Damn, so it’s not just our master.”
Listening to the juniors chattering about who got drilled the hardest, I shook my head.
This is exactly why I can’t circulate my qi here and have to wake up at dawn. So damn noisy.
Casually running through the forms of Seven Plums Sword, I replied.
“Of course. There’s a major event coming up.”
Eyes immediately locked onto me. As I sheathed my sword with a grin amid their silent pleas to spill it, everyone here knew full well I was the top informant among the Mount Hua Sect Bi juniors—bar none.
With connections ranging from the Supreme Elders to the second-generation disciples, it was only natural I heard the news first.
“Whoa, my throat’s dry. I could go for some plum juice.”
Grinning as I spoke, a jar of plum juice promptly appeared before me.
I drained the gourd refreshingly, then shared the answer with the huddled juniors.
“The Dragon-Tiger Assembly. This year marks exactly four years.”
“The Dragon-Tiger Assembly?”
“They call it an exchange between Mount Hua Sect and Wudang Sect, but to me, it’s just a pissing contest. Honestly, strip out the sparring, and there’s nothing much else.”
Recalling the Dragon-Tiger Assembly from four years ago, I explained.
I hadn’t participated back then, just watched, so maybe it was boring.
“Anyway, it’s definite we’re heading to Mount Wudang this time. Last time, Wudang came to Mount Hua.”
“We’re going too?”
“Even the third-generation Wudang newbies who’d just started came to sightsee Mount Hua back then, so of course we third-years are going. And why else would the masters be drilling us like this if we were staying behind?”
“So who won last time between Mount Hua and Wudang? Mount Hua, obviously?”
“Nope, Wudang.”
We fell a bit short in the number of sparring victories.
And the third-gen Bi juniors back then had to endure endless grief from the seniors afterward, whining about how long they had to live with ‘Wudang, the world’s greatest sword sect’ bullshit.
It was a perfect chain: elders to first-gen to second-gen to third-gen laying into them.
If we couldn’t beat more than half of Wudang’s third-gen this time, that’d be our future too.
As I reminisced about four years ago, a faint memory surfaced of a farewell promise to meet again at Mount Wudang in four years.
Some Wudang parachute disciple, I think? Guess we’ll meet again.
“Boo, spoils the fun if you know first. Tsk. That damn junior brother always stealing my few joys.”
Grinning at the grumpy voice from behind, I savored it. This was my fun.
Uijin ruffled my hair in petty revenge as he addressed the gathered Bi juniors.
“So train hard. Don’t forget that the later generation’s skills are the sect’s future.”
A few swallowed hard at his low, serious tone.
Uijin’s gaze passed over his yawning disciple and stopped at Bidam, the only one holding a rusty old sword.
“The guy with the legendary sword’s gotta train even harder, right? Can’t have the owner being ordinary when the sword’s backstory is so glorious.”
Bidam shot me a resentful glare at the words laced with mischief.
I averted my eyes and played dumb. Who could’ve predicted this?
The ‘totally badass’ sword legend had spread not to the third-gen as intended, but to the seniors. Shame.
But the third-gen were the ones who made it, so inevitable.
Uimin, unwittingly becoming the former owner of the ‘Blood-Cursed King God General’ sword, wasn’t correcting it—instead demanding we add that his master pulled it and passed it to his disciple.
At least thanks to that, Bidam, you’re the owner of a legendary sword now. Be grateful to me, who came up with the first idea.
“Are we sparring too?”
“Of course.”
Bihwan raised his hand brightly, and Uijin affirmed it immediately.
Hearing Uijin’s answer, Bihwan glanced at me with a sigh before continuing.
“According to Senior Brother, Wudang’s third-gen started a year before us—”
“So what? You saying you’ll lose because we started late? You guys passed through Selection Hell—surely you’re not scared of a little sparring?”
Uijin cut Bihwan off coldly.
Bihwan’s attempt to preemptively lay the groundwork for defeat failed against Uijin’s sharp insight.
But I wasn’t disappointed at all. Like Uijin, I disliked Bihwan’s defeatist attitude.
Scared of beating some Wudang entry-bribery bastards? Laying the groundwork already? You call yourself a Mount Hua core disciple who survived Selection Hell? Hand over a single plum petal from your uniform.
“If you’re really scared, I’ll drill you like back then. Go through Selection Hell again, and you’ll find the courage to overcome anything.”
Seeing Uijin’s instructor smile brought back my Selection Hell PTSD.
Whether from fear that Uijin might actually do it, resentful glares flew at Bihwan from all sides.
Finally yielding to the stares, Bihwan switched tack from what he’d planned.
“I’ll train hard to win.”
“Damn right. Losers come back to a world of hurt.”
Uijin chuckled lightly, satisfied.
‘But didn’t you lose to a Wudang disciple four years ago too?’
Anyone listening would think you always won. Wudang ain’t Zhongnan.
And so time flowed on until the day of the Dragon-Tiger Assembly was suddenly right around the corner.
“Packed your stuff properly?”
“Of course.”
I shook my pre-packed bundle at Uihyeon’s question.
It was Biryeong’s words, as she double-checked her own luggage, that stopped Uihyeon from untying my carefully knotted bundle to inspect it.
“Don’t worry, Senior Brother Uihyeon—we made the guy who was gonna go with just his sword pack properly.”
…I was gonna pack the day before. Don’t take my casual grumble at face value.
I do have the common sense to pack when staying over at someone else’s place for a few days.
“Good thing Biryeong’s by your side.”
“Starting to refuse the nanny role, though.”
“He’ll grow up eventually.”
Listening sourly to the two guardians bantering, a hand suddenly reached from behind and snatched my bundle.
“Ugh, such a hassle. Imagine how great it’d be with just a sword. Right, kiddo?”
I nodded vigorously in agreement at the grinning face. Uihyeon sighed lightly, pressing his forehead, and smacked Uiseong’s head.
“Seeing this guy makes me worry Yeon might stay immature even at that age.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Won’t hinder his life, right, Senior Brother?”
“Yeah, not for you. But those of us watching you suffer.”
Leaving their usual light senior-junior bickering behind, Biryeong and I walked side by side toward the sect gate.
“Sometimes Senior Brother Uihyeon makes me sigh.”
“Why?”
“Feels like my future. And I’m his junior brother, of all things.”
Why does everyone keep treating me like a mini-Uiseong? I’m way more mature.