Chapter 58
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: The World is Wide and There are Many Geniuses
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“Idiot? Isn’t there a limit to rudeness?”
There was no way Namgung Seheon would stay quiet after being called an idiot right to his face.
“Calling a guy on death’s doorstep a ghost is less rude, don’t you think?”
Paeng Ha-ran’s gentle retort left him silently closing his mouth.
At Paeng Ha-ran’s gesture to come in, we entered the dharma hall and shut the door behind us. Even in broad daylight, thick darkness blanketed the interior. The only light was the faint glow from the Buddha statue. A subtle scent of incense lingered in the air.
“So why are you holed up here all alone?”
As I asked, Paeng Ha-ran rose to his feet, pulled an incense stick from the censer, and held it to the wick of a nearby candle before replying.
“A Shaolin disciple told me this was a quiet place where I could be alone. What about you guys?”
“We were looking for a secluded spot to have a match ourselves.”
“Hmm, so Shaolin gave you permission?”
“As if. Too lazy to make up a story, so we just tricked Namgung Seheon.”
The candle flame caught, brightening the dim hall a little.
Thanks to that, I could clearly see Namgung Seheon’s dumbfounded expression as he stared at me. Our eyes met, and he flashed an irritated grin before shaking me by the collar.
“You threw sand in my eyes just because you couldn’t be bothered?”
“Sorry, but in exchange, I’ll yield the first form.”
Namgung Seheon snorted and let go of my shoulder at my magnanimous offer.
“Pass. I’ll win without any such concessions.”
“You’ll regret it.”
I wasn’t the same guy who’d lost before because he couldn’t adapt from wooden swords to real steel.
Fine by me if he wouldn’t take the yield. Ignoring Namgung Seheon, I turned to Paeng Ha-ran and asked,
“Anyway, what’s up? There’s got to be a story behind holing up here instead of checking out Shaolin’s famous spots...?”
At that, Paeng Ha-ran brushed back his tangled white hair and gave a slight quirk of his lips.
“Cheer me up, and I’ll tell you. I’m feeling really down right now.”
No, I didn’t want to hear it that badly.
No, I didn’t want to hear it that badly.
I flinched at the voice beside me echoing my exact thoughts word for word. Was this guy sharing my brain...?
Paeng Ha-ran’s face lit up with an “I knew it” look as he glanced at Namgung Seheon, so I quickly spoke up. Even if we’d thought the same thing, I wasn’t about to be lumped in with Namgung Seheon.
“Then judge our match for us.”
“That’s unexpected. I say cheer me up, and you immediately ask me to referee.”
Shrugging at the sharp barb beneath Paeng Ha-ran’s chin-propped words, I added casually,
“The most fun thing is watching a fight.”
I’d just suggested what I thought was entertaining.
Whether my sincerity got through or not, Paeng Ha-ran’s expression softened as he straightened his bent waist and said,
“I hope it’s an intriguing match and not just kids playing around.”
Ignoring that, Namgung Seheon glanced around the hall and blurted out,
“Isn’t this place too cramped?”
“We can’t exactly fight outside.”
“Uh, yeah, true.”
We took positions in a suitable spot and faced each other, assuming the salute stance. The salute was a form of courtesy before the real exchange began.
Namgung Seheon bared his fangs in a fierce grin.
“Hey, let’s go at least ten exchanges, yeah? Don’t disappoint me by folding before that.”
“That’s my line. Didn’t I tell you before? Once I get used to real swords—”
I kicked off the floor and lunged, thrusting straight. Namgung Seheon blocked horizontally, biting his lip.
“Next time, I win!”
With his bold shout, his body slid back—smoothly.
One step, then half.
Seeing his face twist like his lofty pride had cracked—just like mine two years ago—I grinned.
Good. Today’s the day to show the results of my forget-myself training.
* * *
How much time had passed?
One da-jing? No, more than that. Maybe one sik-jing?
Sweat trickled down over my eyelids. I hadn’t expected Namgung Seheon to keep up with my stamina, honed by Selection Hell-level insane hell training, this easily.
Talent or hard work, I didn’t know—but if it was the former, it was a bit unlucky. I wondered if my junior brothers felt this way looking at me.
The match two years ago, where we’d exchanged about thirty forms, felt like child’s play compared to this brutal clash.
I’d grown tremendously in the past year, but so had he.
If not for my semi-forced hell training, I’d have suffered a humiliating defeat without even clashing swords properly this time.
The drawn-out fight was starting to drain my stamina.
“You’re holding out pretty long? Guess your mouth isn’t the only thing that’s big.”
At my taunt, Namgung Seheon exhaled roughly and smirked crookedly as he brought his sword down heavily.
“That’s my line.”
I blocked his oncoming blade diagonally, mind racing. True to his clan’s style, Namgung Seheon favored heavy, power-packed cuts with greatswords and midswords.
So if I dragged this out longer...
‘It puts me at a disadvantage too, damn it.’
Mount Hua’s swift sword was also stamina-dependent.
Letting out a crooked chuckle, I calculated my next move. I couldn’t infuse qi into the sword yet for an illusory blade, so end it with the next thrust—
What’s that?
The grin vanished from my face. The sword had been thrusting straight—when did it turn into that tricky variation?
I dodged the blade stabbing sideways by a single pace and ground my teeth. Ah, so you had a hidden trump card up till now?
Of course—rivers and lakes wisdom said never show all your cards or reveal more than thirty percent of your skill.
Reflexively, I unleashed a sword form I’d drilled hundreds of times. I had my own hidden move too!
The Plum Blossoms by the Roadside form painted the air before the final strike plunged down.
Boom! The two swords clashed with a thunderous roar. My sword-gripping hand trembled under the heavy pressure.
The fierce exchange continued briefly before we broke apart and swung again.
Crash! One sword couldn’t withstand the force and flew off. At almost the same instant, the other dropped to the floor with a clunk.
Rumble! Ignoring the roar from where Namgung Seheon’s sword had flown, I stared him straight in the eye. My lips quirked up crookedly.
“You dropped first. I win.”
It felt simultaneous, but in cases like this, the one who claimed it first and loudest won.
As I pressed down on my numb hand and declared victory, Namgung Seheon scowled and shot back loudly.
“What nonsense? You dropped first!”
“Don’t make me laugh! I saw you loosen your grip first.”
“I loosened, but didn’t drop.”
“So, what, did your sword grow wings? It flew off on its own?”
I toed my fallen sword lightly, sending it back into my hand, then slung it over my shoulder and swaggered.
“Admit it already, loser.”
“Who’s the loser?!”
Watching Namgung Seheon flail in rage, I ostentatiously cleaned my ear. Losers had the longest tongues.
“Have you two forgotten the referee exists?”
A voice laced with astonishment and pity cut in. Only then did we remember the referee and turn to Paeng Ha-ran in unison.
“Who won? Me, right? He dropped first.”
“Judge fairly, just call it like you saw. Who won?”
“From what I saw, you both dropped at the same time—draw. But win or lose aside...”
Paeng Ha-ran paused, raised a hand, and pointed gently at one spot.
“What are you going to do about that, kids?”
Following his finger, I turned and saw a Buddha statue plunged headfirst into the floor.
Namgung Seheon’s sword lay sprawled beside it as a bonus.
We instinctively faced each other, confronting our pale faces. Stunned, we let out simultaneous hollow laughs as if on cue.
Who won didn’t matter anymore. The match ended in a draw, and we’d caused a massive headache of an accident.
I see. Shouldn’t have ignored that roar.
In this case, was the one who launched the sword to blame, or the sword’s owner?
“We’re screwed. This means Repentance Cave...”
Visions of the Repentance Cave flashed before my eyes. Looked like the first among the current third-generation disciples to enter it—haha.
Amid my despair, Paeng Ha-ran’s humming voice pierced my ear.
“Imperial Sword Form?”
The Namgung Family’s signature swordsmanship—the ultimate secret art passed down one-to-one only to the family head and heir.
Ignoring Namgung Seheon’s face stiffening instantly, Paeng Ha-ran turned to me calmly.
“And this is... 24 Plum Blossom Sword Techniques?”
“How did you...?”
Paeng Ha-ran bent down, picked up Namgung Seheon’s fallen sword, and chuckled at my slack-jawed expression.
“Didn’t know this one, so I half-guessed—looks like I got it right. Hmm, was the form like this?”
Swish. His fine white hair flowed like silk. The wide sleeve fluttered with his arm’s motion.
I blinked my eyes dozens of times at the unbelievable sight unfolding before me.
It wasn’t even my full demonstration, but he’d perfectly replicated the moves I’d drilled dozens of times while getting chewed out by Uiseong when first learning them—in one go.
“As expected, it’s hard without the incantation.”
What just happened? Replicating a form after seeing it once? And by an outsider?
The world is wide, and geniuses are many. Turns out I wasn’t even in the genius league—boundless Buddha.
Paeng Ha-ran gave me a soft smile as I gaped at him, then stepped into footwork and moved the sword in his hand again.
An indescribable expression crossed Namgung Seheon’s face. The path Paeng Ha-ran’s sword traced was the very attack from Namgung Seheon that had flustered me.
Highly likely the Imperial Sword Form, contextually.
“What are you?”
The moment Paeng Ha-ran sheathed the sword, Namgung Seheon grabbed his arm and spoke in a chilling voice.