The Sword Ghost's First Trial
Han Kangwoo was the same type as Master Kim Minyoung. He was willing to take on a disciple, but only if they proved their worth first. Great minds think alike, huh? Well, it's human nature to want the perfect top-grade product over some flawed reject. Especially when it comes to a disciple who'll inherit a lifetime of hard-earned achievements—it's only natural to demand exceptional talent.
Of course, Master Kim Minyoung and Han Kangwoo didn't share exactly the same values. The kind of capable disciple Master Kim wanted was the textbook genius: quick learner, massive achievements. But Han Kangwoo's ideal was someone with the mindset to embrace his own accomplishments.
To put it crudely enough to make both sigh, Master Kim wanted a body-focused disciple, while Han Kangwoo sought a brainy one? Come to think of it, Gong Wooseon—that bastard from the original novel—was described as having average martial arts talent. The reason he became Han Kangwoo's disciple was his unique way of thinking. This cliff was the first test he'd set.
In the novel, Gong Wooseon struggled for about two days before figuring out the answer. But I'd read the novel, so no need for me to suffer that long.
The key to this test is those eagles right there.
The spirit eagles Han Kangwoo raised himself each had the combat prowess of a first-rate master. To climb the cliff while fending them off, you'd need at least peak expert-level skill. But even if you muscled your way up like that, you wouldn't pass Han Kangwoo's test.
What he's watching isn't whether you climb the cliff—it's how you do it.
Pretending to rummage in my travel pack, I pulled a thick slab of premium Hanwoo beef from my inventory. Juicy, perfectly marbled—the kind that'd make any beast or man light up with hunger. Maybe not man, but close enough.
The sharp-eyed eagles, who'd been eyeing me like prey, went wild when I pulled out the meat, flapping furiously in flight. They looked ready to dive and peck holes in my forehead with their talons.
I diced the meat finely and laid it out in front. Plenty of pieces so they wouldn't fight over it. The eagles hovered, watching my every move. When I did nothing aggressive, they started landing one by one.
These spirit eagles were three or four times bigger than normal ones—no joke. A little larger, and I could've ridden one. I pulled more from inventory when the pieces ran low and tossed them out. They pecked at the beef I'd thrown.
At first, they nibbled cautiously, but once they saw I was just watching, they dove in aggressively. Their appetites were insane. Two catties wasn't enough. They devoured it like a whirlwind. Will they even digest that fast? I wondered idly.
I tossed out a few more chunks to let them gorge. Two kilos of Hanwoo vanished in seconds. Bellies full, the eagles flopped over like affectionate puppies, exposing their undersides. They didn't flee or attack as I approached. Guess they saw me as the cool big bro who fed them well. Kinda dog-like up close.
At this point, I'd basically passed. Gong Wooseon slaved away hunting food for them, but not me—I'd anticipated the test and prepped ahead. The eagles nuzzled my hand as I scratched their bellies, loving it. Big babies who took to human touch. Pretty cute, actually. Maybe I should raise an eagle someday? Nah, something like a bat sounds more fun.
The largest eagle spread its wings wide. It circled me, crying out powerfully. Smaller birds scattered in panic at the sound.
"You want me to ride?"
The eagle nodded at my question. Hearing human speech like that really drove home they were spirit beasts. Suddenly, the flock swarmed around me. I stepped onto the head of one soaring strongly. They formed a living staircase with their bodies. As I walked forward on their heads, those behind moved up to extend the path.
It felt just like those group races at elementary school sports day. Was this how Cowherd and Weaver Girl felt crossing the Milky Way? With the eagles' help, I scaled the dozens-of-meters-high cliff unscathed.
Stepping onto the hermitage's porch atop the cliff, I saw a middle-aged man with a bushy beard. He smiled and spoke.
"Handle it without fighting if you can. Almost no one in the Central Plains knows that. Impressive."
"Greetings. It's an honor to meet the Sword Ghost. I'm Jongchil, from the Central Plains."
I knelt properly before him. Politeness rarely backfires. Han Kangwoo eyed me with interest, stroking his thick beard. A gentle authority emanated from his touch.
"I've long discarded that name. Sword Ghost—embarrassing moniker from my reckless youth."
He turned, hands behind his back. My first impression seemed solid. Nailing his first test perfectly helped. Good start, but not yet a disciple. His trials weren't over, and I had to ace every one to win the spot.
If Gong Wooseon could do it, so can I.
I would become Han Kangwoo's disciple. No question. *-*-*
He was an ordinary young man. That very fact struck Han Kangwoo as all the more intriguing. Strange as it sounded, this youth's ordinariness felt special.
All the martial artists who'd sought him out from the Central Plains had been extraordinary talents. Peak experts abounded, and several had mastered esoteric arts. They were too outstanding to take as disciples.
Yet none satisfied him.
But this one is ordinary. His martial talent's about on par with Geumbo's.
Among the extraordinary, the ordinary shines. This youth had that ordinary specialness. He'd solved Han Kangwoo's first test most ideally. It piqued his interest. Perhaps this one could achieve what countless others couldn't.
A perfected body matters less than a perfected mind. Maybe this youth is the vessel to inherit my true legacy...
The seekers so far fell short. Physically complete, but unfit to hold his philosophy. A mere large vessel shatters true insight. His successor needed unyielding strength.
Han Kangwoo decided to test if this youth qualified.
"You've had a tough climb."
"Not at all. The eagles did the work."
The eagles he'd raised circled the youth, fawning over him. Han Kangwoo had never seen them greet a visitor so enthusiastically. The food must've been a hit.
"I'll brew some tea. Great view here, but supplies are scarce—only humble barley tea, I'm afraid."
"I'd be grateful."
Han Kangwoo poured barley tea into tiny cups. Steam rose as he handed one to Jongchil and took his own.
"I'm Han Kangwoo. Sword Ghost was a foolish alias from my youth. Now retired from the fray, I build and repair houses."
Introducing himself as a humble carpenter, Han Kangwoo prompted Jongchil's reply.
"Pleased to meet you properly. I'm Jongchil, a wandering swordsman from Hubei Province."
"Hubei. Nostalgic name. Wudang Sect, Fairy Sword Sect—full of renowned martial artists. Faces of those I crossed swords with still vivid. Wonder how they're faring."
Han Kangwoo looked early forties, but his true age was double. His old rivals were long retired legends.
"Coming all this way from afar—must be for my martial arts, right?"
"Yes."
Jongchil didn't deny it. No need—Han Kangwoo knew. He nodded at the honest answer. Only such seekers tracked him down after his name faded from the jianghu. Han Kangwoo appreciated the straightforwardness over lies.
"Many came with your goal. But I've passed my arts to none. Can you guess why?"
Jongchil nodded calmly at the sudden question.
"No one met your standards?"
"Exactly. Among them: famed masters, once-in-decades geniuses with Five Elements Body. Yet none satisfied."
Martial arts build physical might, not mental fortitude. True strength demands spiritual growth first—or so Han Kangwoo believed.
"I asked them all the same question."
"Is this the disciple selection test?"
"You could say yes or no. It's already begun."
Han Kangwoo sipped his tea and continued.
"What are martial arts to you?"