Chapter 99
Chapter 99
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: What is Your Martial Art?
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In any case, my daily routine was finally set.
*Cawwwwww-.*
I’d wake up around the time I heard the cry of the strange bird.
And first, I would run.
I'd run with all my might.
After sprinting with all my strength until I had no energy left to move, I'd collapse right where I stood once I reached my limit.
Then, I would immediately begin circulating my energy.
Of course, it wasn't just simple energy circulation; I continuously refined the incantations to find a more effective way to enhance my body's recovery.
“Blech!”
I spat up blood again today.
A useless question popped into my head: how much blood would it be if I collected all that I've spat out so far?
I wasn't sure, but I figured I could probably fill a beer keg with ease.
I wiped the blood away carelessly.
Even if my body recovered, my clothes didn't wash themselves.
In other words, there was a trick to spitting blood, and now, I could cough it up without a single drop staining my clothes, if you can believe it.
[FAD's One-Liner: Truly. A-ma-zing.]
“…”
While waiting for my damaged body to recover, I also let my imagination run wild, fantasizing about the latter half of the White Sun Eclipse.
My imaginary opponent was usually the Demon King of the Black Swamp, and this monstrous being overwhelmed me just by thinking about him.
Still, it wasn't an insurmountable challenge.
In fact, the more I mulled it over, the more I adapted to his aura, so in the grand scheme of things, this was a form of training as well.
The Demon King's power.
How should I counter the force that could crush an opponent in an instant?
‘The Flame Rush, maximizing speed? Or maybe deceiving the opponent's vision with flames…’
…By the time my body finished recovering, I'd end my fantasies and sprint again. Then, when my strength gave out, I'd collapse, circulate my energy, refine the incantations, and fantasize once more.
…….
…….
[Current Progress: 23.3%.]
…….
…….
Performing this mind-numbingly simple, repetitive task every single day, without fail, for the sole purpose of becoming stronger.
People usually call it training or discipline.
[Current Progress: 25.9%.]
…….
…….
Repeating actions so familiar I've lost count, and reviewing things I know so well I could recite them in my sleep.
It would be a lie to say this process wasn't tedious.
Of course, there might be a few oddballs who enjoy it... but generally, human adaptability is frighteningly fast.
In other words, we quickly become desensitized to things we've already experienced and lose interest.
If these symptoms worsen, the training itself can begin to feel like torture.
[Current Progress: 27.1%.]
…I,
wasn't someone who particularly disliked training.
But that was only when I was certain it was the right kind of training.
[Current Progress: 33.2%.]
-50 days.
Around the time half the period had passed, a thought occurred to me.
Am I doing well right now?
Of course, my body was steadily getting stronger. I had reached a point where I could run for an hour without issue.
But, despite that, I had no confidence that I was heading in the right direction.
I thought about it more than ten times a day.
What if there was actually a better way? What if this method was wrong? What if I was walking like an idiot down the wrong path without even knowing it…?
Then, one day.
- You piece of trash.
I saw my Master's figure through the mist.
“…”
Of course, I knew it was an illusion.
- Do you dare think you're at a level where you can tamper with my martial arts?
It was a phantom-like image that could disappear at any moment, and besides, my Master would never say something like that.
When I did something idiotic, he'd just smack me on the head first.
So, could this also be one of the trials Spirit Mountain was giving me?
Or maybe I'd finally gone mad.
- I never should have taken you as my disciple.
“…”
A sigh escaped from deep within my chest.
Even knowing it was a hallucination, hearing those words in Baek Rogwang's face and voice made it difficult to maintain my composure.
On top of that, my negative thoughts had been growing deeper recently.
I wasn't a pessimistic person by nature, but being cooped up alone in a place with no one else for dozens of days, my mind inevitably started to wander.
And suddenly, I felt a sense of respect for the grand masters of martial schools.
It wasn't a path one could walk just by being talented.
Walking a path no one had ever taken before was impossible without immense confidence and conviction.
At every moment, you doubt yourself, regret the past, and fall into worry, wondering if there might have been a better choice.
I couldn't even afford to continue such worries.
Even while lost, I pushed myself, striving to take even one more step forward.
[You seem to be having a hard time.]
The hallucinations were multiplying.
No. Was it an auditory hallucination?
This time, I heard my fourth martial brother's voice.
[You can just give up here, you know.]
…It's not an auditory hallucination?
This voice was coming from the FAD.
Lying sprawled on the ground, I just rolled my eyes.
“I don't remember calling for you.”
[I know. That's why I'm talking to you through the FAD.]
“…”
[As of today, 70 days have passed.]
Time flies so damn fast.
I hadn't been counting since day 50, so I didn't know.
[And this is what you look like right now.]
At that moment, the FAD's screen changed, reflecting me like a mirror.
A pathetic and haggard man was there.
For some reason.
I saw my current self not as the immature fifteen-year-old Ruan Bednicker, but as the twenty-five-year-old Ruan who had been caught in a war and met a pathetic end.
“What's the progress percentage?”
[35 percent.]
“Not even halfway there.”
I pushed myself up again.
My fourth martial brother followed me as I started running again and said.
[You're still going to keep going?]
“Yes.”
[Do you think you can descend the mountain within the remaining 30 days?]
“I don't know. Honestly, the chances seem slim, but…”
I paused.
It was because I felt it was difficult to put what I was currently feeling into words.
“…I feel like I'm about to grasp something.”
In the end, it was vague, but that was the only way I could express it.
I continued speaking as if to myself while walking through the mist.
“Brother. This might sound random, but I've suddenly come to respect the people known as grand masters.”
[Why.]
“Wouldn't they have lived their entire lives feeling like this? Wandering through a mist, running a race alone with no end in sight.”
For some reason, I found it funny and chuckled.
“The path of a grand master is piercingly lonely.”
[…]
Even when you gain something, you can't immediately tell if it's a proper achievement or just a byproduct of a mistake.
If you have to choose everything by yourself, wouldn't that be a series of torments rather than complete freedom?
And so, I asked my fellow disciple a question I'd been pondering for a while.
“Do you think Master ever felt like this?”
I thought of Baek Rogwang, the World's Greatest.
Always full of confidence, audacious, arrogant, but my master, who was more than qualified to be so.
Were there such ups and downs in his life?
If there were, how did he overcome them?
“…If it was a difficult task even for Master, then perhaps it's beyond my station for someone like me to pursue my own martial arts.”
[What are you afraid of?]
I hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Failing to live up to expectations.”
I experienced it in my first life.
My family had high expectations of me, and I even had high expectations for myself.
The result was tragic and disastrous.
I'm all too familiar with failure.
Being looked down upon by others is the same.
But…….
“I might become a stain on Master's legacy… that's what I fear the most.”
Letting someone down is not something I'm used to.
I was afraid.
It might have been fine if it were anyone else.
But when it comes to Baek Rogwang,
I didn't want to do that to the master I respected the most.
What does Master think of me?
How much expectation has he placed on this guy named Ruan Bednicker?
Does he compare me to my other martial brothers?
At the very bottom of my being, these kinds of base and inferior thoughts were always hiding.
It was then.
[My real name is RAN-4700 Type-A.]
My brother said something out of the blue.
“…Huh? Ah, yes. I heard from the FAD.”
Regardless of my slow reaction, my brother's voice continued.
[I am a 4th generation android, originally intended as a military weapon.]
“Why are you suddenly talking about…”
[My first master was a soldier. He retired after losing an arm on the battlefield.]
Is this… my fourth martial brother's backstory?
I think this is the first time I've ever heard it.
Hearing the word 'master', I asked cautiously.
“Were you a slave?”
I omitted the part about 'like our Master'.
[It was a similar position. However, my master did not treat me like a slave. Even after retiring, he honed his martial arts against me, seeking to return to the battlefield.]
My fourth martial brother's voice grew a little quieter.
It was still a dry, emotionless voice, but for some reason, I got the feeling that he was reminiscing about the past.
[My master did not enjoy easy victories. He spared no effort in making me stronger. A vast and diverse amount of data was inputted in a short time, and I would review my lost spars all night to create new patterns. Still, I couldn't win. Even with one arm, my master was a martial arts expert.]
“…”
[Then one day, I suddenly combined two movements I had conceived and attacked with a new motion. My master couldn't counter it and was defeated. He was overjoyed. And he looked at me and said.]
“What did he say?”
[That I was a martial artist.]
“…”
[I was probably truly born at that moment.]
I didn't understand everything my brother said.
The world he came from was likely very different from the one I lived in.
But still, it must have been a place where people lived.
And emotions aren't something to be understood, but rather to be accepted.
I accepted the feeling behind my brother's words.
[Look, Ruan. I have no heart. No muscles. No blood. I cannot build internal energy because I have no dantian, and physical training is meaningless without muscles. Does that mean I cannot pursue the martial way? Is the very act of me speaking of martial arts an unforgivable offense?]
“…”
[I've pondered this ever since the moment I was born. For a long time, I couldn't find an answer. A machine that pursues the martial way… there was no answer for that in any database.]
Then, I felt as if my brother on the other side of the screen was smiling warmly.
[That's when I met Master. He told me, "Then why not just create your own martial art that isn't bound by such things?"]
“Pfft.”
My fourth martial brother wasn't impersonating him, but…
I couldn't help but laugh, picturing Master actually saying that right in front of me.
[I have nothing to say regarding the qualities of a grand master. But the right to pursue one's own martial art belongs to everyone. Even a mere tree knows to plant its roots firmly to avoid being shaken by the wind and rain. In my interpretation, that tree possesses the martial art of fortitude.]
“The martial art of fortitude…”
[To me, martial arts aren't something grandiose. It's about not losing the heart that seeks strength. After all, power is relative, and fights are full of variables.]
My brother asked me.
[Ruan, what is your martial art?]
“…”
This answer might define me as a martial artist, but I didn't feel much pressure.
My brother was right.
Martial arts don't have to be grandiose.
“My martial art is… to move forward, even if it's just a little each day.”
It doesn't have to be obvious.
It's not necessarily about the body growing stronger, the internal energy deepening, or understanding a profound technique.
The growth of the spirit that follows enlightenment is also a great step forward for me.
So.
“Thank you, Brother.”
Today, too, I felt as if I had taken another step forward.