Chapter 97
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: First Journey into the Martial World?
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm taking the kid on a little trip through the martial world."
Uihyeon lifted his gaze from the paper at Uiseong's sudden declaration from across the table.
"What's this about a martial world trip all of a sudden?"
"It'll be short, so don't worry about it."
"If you're going, go by yourself. Why drag along a kid who's busy with training?"
Uihyeon replied indifferently and lowered his eyes back to the paper, but Uiseong spoke up again.
"The sword feels light to him."
The hand holding the brush paused.
"The kid says the bloodstained sword feels light."
Uihyeon's voice grew serious and solemn, and he finally set down the brush, meeting Uiseong's eyes squarely.
"Didn't Yeon learn nothing from that escort mission, senior brother? You know that better than anyone."
Uihyeon clearly remembered his disciple slicing through those Black Dao thugs without a moment's hesitation. He remembered that face, calm amid the heavy atmosphere of the core disciples after the battle.
"It was easy, though? No need to freak out."
And that response when asked if he was okay.
What had eighteen-year-old Uihyeon learned when thrown into the same situation?
The fragility of life, swayed by a single hesitation or glance. The fleetingness of existence. The sharpness of the blade. The sensation of that first kill.
And—
The peculiar heaviness of that blood-soaked sword. The weight that a man who chose the path of the sword for life would have to bear forever.
Yet his disciple claimed that blood-soaked sword felt light. Taking another's life had been easy.
Some might say it's better than being so shocked by such a trifling thing that you never pick up a sword again...
But the line between a hero and a killer is as thin as paper. Among the great villains of the martial world, or even the Black Dao, how many didn't come from the Righteous Faction?
"I'll play the bad guy who cracks the whip. You keep being the kind and reliable master, senior brother."
"You've done plenty of strict master yourself, you rascal."
"This time, even your standards of strictness won't cut it."
Uihyeon chuckled softly at Uiseong's unwavering stare and added one more thing.
"Still, don't push him too hard."
* * *
Another groan echoed from somewhere.
It was early dawn, before the sun had risen—technically still the middle of the night. I glanced at the dim ceiling at the now-familiar sound, then closed my eyes again.
Among the senior brothers who took turns having nightmares, I was the only one unaffected.
Even Biyeong had spent days tormented by nightmares, letting out pained whimpers.
'Why does it feel so familiar?'
I clenched and unclenched my hand, recalling the vivid sensation of the sword slicing through flesh. The gushing blood, the metallic stench lingering at the tip of my nose—it wasn't repulsive at all.
They were villains, sure, but I'd killed people. I'd ended lives with my own hands.
And yet, it didn't faze me in the slightest.
Am I some kind of psychopath? Or did I discover some hidden talent I never knew I had... In my past life, I'd never killed anyone, after all.
A talent for killing. Useless in my previous life unless I switched careers to hitman, but perfect for this martial world setting.
So, isn't this a win for me?
I slept soundly, woke refreshed, circulated my qi at the Jade Maiden Well, and headed back to the hall, where Uiseong was lounging on the veranda.
"Where've you been wandering since the crack of dawn?"
"Training."
"Sleep okay?"
"Of course."
We exchanged casual words, but I was baffled inside as to why this guy was at the third-generation disciples' hall so early.
He used to catch me skipping morning training, but now I was up even earlier, training diligently. And I hadn't slacked off during the escort mission either.
"I got dragged into a real fight right after some mock battles back in my day, too."
"That's ancient history."
It's practically a tradition, isn't it? Turns out it's a rite of passage even the core disciple kids and outer disciples go through...
As I nodded, Uiseong looked up at the sky and muttered.
"I thought it wouldn't bother me, but I had nightmares for three straight days. Tossed and turned all night."
"Whoa, you, Uncle? Wow, that's unexpected."
"I was young. Seventeen."
"Huh, I'm fifteen and totally fine."
Uiseong clicked his tongue at that and ruffled my hair.
"Don't brag, kid. Pack your bags and let's go."
"Where are we headed?"
"To see the world. You've been cooped up in the sect your whole life—time to broaden your horizons and grow some brains."
I blinked at the sudden martial world trip. For real?
"What about Master? Is he coming too?"
"Your master's busy, so it's just you and me. Won't be long, so pack a few changes of clothes."
A trip! A martial world adventure! Eyes sparkling with excitement, I grabbed my things from the hall. Biyeong, gearing up for morning training, turned to me with a puzzled look.
"Junior brother, where are you off to?"
"Yeah, world tour with Uncle Uiseong! Want souvenirs?"
"Good for you. Try to come back with some sense knocked into you. And no souvenirs. You'll just bring back another useless wooden trinket and shove it at me as a 'gift.'"
I waved breezily at Biyeong and dashed to waiting Uiseong.
Descending from Mount Hua to Harmony Village was quick. Unlike when I was little, my longer legs now handled two steps at a time without strain.
He kept pace easily, and as we walked side by side down the stairs, Uiseong gave me an odd look for a moment before patting my head.
Once in Harmony Village, Uiseong headed straight for someone.
"Hey, long time no see."
"Saw you a few days ago—what long time?"
A burly beggar leaning against the wall of a back alley grumbled in a gruff voice.
Judging by Uiseong's attitude and the knotted cord at his waist, he was definitely from the Beggars' Sect. They show their rank with the number of knots.
Five knots meant a Five-Knot Beggar—equivalent to a branch leader. With the Nine-Knot Beggar as sect leader, he held a pretty high position in the so-called Hundred Thousand Disciples sect.
"And this is..."
As eyes turned to me, I immediately cupped my fists in greeting.
"Biyeon, twenty-eighth disciple of Mount Hua Sect, greets the great hero."
"Gong-o of the Beggars' Sect. I humbly serve as branch leader of the Shaanxi division."
He introduced himself before I could even ask his name. As I unclasped my fists and looked up, Gong-o scanned me and continued.
"Disciple of the Lanying Sword, eh? Your nickname's Wild Sword of Mount Hua, right?"
"...Yes."
As expected from the sect with the most members and best intelligence network—they even knew my lame nickname.
"Heard you put on a good show in Hopyang County. Wild Sword... suits you well, kid. Seen all sorts in my beggar days, but a disciple from a righteous famed sect like Mount Hua being a wild sword? Haha."
Ouch, saying it suits me hurts. I'm not crazy. And neither is my sword.
"Cut the chit-chat. Any places around Shaanxi where Black Dao thugs are rampaging lately?"
Uiseong cut in with an annoyed tone. Gong-o scratched his head, silent for a bit, then replied.
"The roads through the Taihang Mountains in Shanxi Province are a headache because of bandits. Word is, without an escort, crossing the range is tough."
"Oh, Shanxi? Not too far. Perfect, just right."
Shanxi bordered Shaanxi—right above Henan, home of Shaolin.
Uiseong nodded in satisfaction, tossed a cheeky farewell at Gong-o to mooch off plenty today, and turned with me in tow.
Gong-o's voice followed, tinged with surprise.
"Thought you'd stay a blockhead forever, but you're growing up, Uiseong."
"Try raising a kid sometime. Then you'll see."
Uiseong shot back indifferently without turning and advised me.
"Make friends with some Beggars' Sect kids your age later. No one beats their info network. Building ties never hurts."
"What about the Hao Clan?"
"That's Black Dao, you punk. Wanna hang with Black Dao scum? Huh?"
Midway through my scolding for the wrong words, my stomach growled. Uiseong smirked and asked if I was hungry. Since I'd left without breakfast, I nodded eagerly.
Entering the inn, the waiter guided us to a table, handed over a wooden menu board, and scurried off to another call.
"Uncle, can we get something expensive?"
"No money."
"Then the cheapest noodles—"
"What noodles? Hey, waiter! Dongpo pork, roast duck, and a bottle of bamboo leaf liquor."
Uiseong called the waiter and ordered without asking me—though since he was paying, I had no complaints.
"Wow, a Daoist drinking in broad daylight. But Uncle, I want dumplings and five-spice sausage too."
"Add dumplings and five-spice sausage."
In our growth spurt with massive appetites, us core kids ate like no tomorrow, and I contributed plenty to that 'no joke'. Knowing it, Uiseong ordered heaps without questioning if we could finish.
Soon, three large platters and a big steamer basket covered the table. Far more lavish than Mount Hua's veggie-only spreads.
And since it wasn't pure vegetarian and had meat dishes that wouldn't upset the stomach, no complaints there either.
"Eat up. Gotta fill you good now."
"...Why do you say it like it's the last supper? Uncle, you selling me off or something?"
"You got a mouth on you, kid."
He whacked my head with a spoon, and I meekly popped a dumpling in. Juicy and delicious.