Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Needle in a Satchel (4)
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Lately, with all sorts of events causing it to fade a bit, but now that I'd settled into place to some extent, I could finally return to my original resolve. So, what exactly was that original resolve of mine?
Naturally, it was to become the best under heaven. Any man born into the martial world ought to set that as a goal at least once in his life. That was the reason I rose at dawn.
The habit of waking at dawn every day—the one formed in the mountains, not some proper household—drove sleep from me early even here. Being able to focus on martial arts instead of farming was certainly appealing.
But looking back, life in the city would prove far more complicated and grueling than I'd imagined. Unlike Seochae, where a degree of self-sufficiency and bartering had been possible,
here, money was absolutely essential just to eat and survive. Henan itself felt like the heart of the Central Plains. At least for now, I had the money from the Moyong Clan.
Even that would eventually run dry if I kept spending it, that much was obvious. Money wasn't everything in the world, but for a comfortable life, ample funds were ultimately necessary...
'Of course, since I'm looking after Sua, the Moyong Clan will keep sending money steadily. But relying on just one source of funds isn't ideal.'
With the Demonic Cult lurking in the shadows right now, nothing was certain. Trouble could strike the Moyong Clan at any moment. But for now, I cast aside all stray thoughts.
"Right now, I pour all my focus into martial arts."
What I had at hand were the Three Disasters Sword Art, the Azure Sword Heart Method, and the techniques I'd gained from the Moyong Clan. Though the Moyong Clan's arts didn't suit me at all, so I couldn't even execute them properly.
I'd already once directly withstood the Patriarch's sword qi. And for some reason, I could somewhat grasp the principles embedded within it. Because I'd clashed with it head-on, perhaps.
In any case, following the faint thread of insight, I instinctively swung my sword through the empty air. The Moyong Clan's sword qi, infused with the essence of the dragon, pursuing perfect offense and defense as one. The Dragon Stream Sword.
[A hundred accounts are inferior to one sight. You must fully absorb the opponent's forms and principles from a single encounter, making them your own. That is the qualification of... the immovability I have chosen.]
The voice of the long-departed elder guided me, and with just a bit more effort, the principle felt within reach. But the sound of someone knocking at the gate shattered my trance.
Regretfully smacking my lips, I sheathed my sword and headed to the gate. Wondering if it might be people sent by Yang Miyeon, I opened it—only to find an unexpected guest.
His skin was as smooth as white jade, and his neatly tied-back black hair gleamed with luster. His beauty could easily overwhelm most women. If not for the boy's attire,
I would have mistaken him for a girl without hesitation. So this must be the famed courtesan attendant I'd only heard of in tales. In any case, the sudden arrival of this unforeseen guest left me slightly flustered.
But I couldn't just turn the boy away at the gate. From his appearance, it was easy to guess he carried no ordinary story.
The clothes draped over him were luxurious silk, yet they were tattered here and there, caked in dust and mud—far closer to a beggar's rags than a young master's garb.
"Have you eaten?"
"...I'm sorry. Due to circumstances, not yet."
"We haven't had breakfast either. If you're alright with it, join us for a meal."
Most people would ignore a beggar at the gate or, at best, toss some alms and be done. Yet I chose to welcome the boy inside.
"What's your name?"
"Namgung Yeon..."
The moment I heard the boy's name, I inwardly cheered. I didn't know the full story, but it was clearly tied to the Namgung Clan. Naturally, the Namgung Clan itself would get involved.
What did that mean?
It meant a once-in-a-lifetime chance to target the Namgung Clan's martial arts.
Of course, the price was enduring the sharp glares from Sua and Seolhwa, now awake. But given the boy's pitiful state, even Sua couldn't object too strongly in the end.
He must have starved for days, as Namgung Yeon devoured every bit of the meal Sua prepared without leaving a crumb. Thanks to that, I could finally voice the curiosity I'd held back.
"Isn't the Namgung Clan the leader of the Five Great Clans, the Alliance Leader called the Dragon's Head? How did one of their blood kin end up in such a state?"
The Moyong Clan had the excuse of long isolation from the martial world. The Namgung Clan, however, wielded immense influence as the nominal leader of the orthodox Murim Alliance. Hence the moniker.
Dragon's Head.
Even a collateral branch of that Namgung Clan should command some respect. Arriving here in such a wretched state didn't look normal no matter how you sliced it.
"That... I'm sorry, I can't speak of it yet."
"And yet you come begging for help? How ridiculous!"
"Calm down, Sua."
In the end, Sua couldn't hold back her frustration and burst out. Stung by it, it seemed, Namgung Yeon hung his head. Gazing at him, I pondered briefly.
"For now, I'll give you a room. Stay as long as you like."
The answer was decided from the start.
Because after so long, I'd caught the scent again.
The aroma of fateful opportunity I'd forgotten until now.
As I honed my martial prowess, fragments of the memories the elder left me were slowly unraveling. They weren't whole yet, but I knew what I needed to do to advance.
'Clash directly with as many martial arts as possible, absorbing their principles as my own.'
That way, I could ascend to higher realms.
The Virtuous Martial Institute of Henan had once been founded to promote harmony between orthodox and unorthodox factions, but its purpose had long since warped. As the saying goes, one loach can muddy the water.
Let alone dozens or hundreds—they could turn a pond into a murky lake. The current Virtuous Martial Institute was just a pretty shell, rotten to the core.
The ideals of honing martial arts and studying to comprehend the ancestors' will had vanished ages ago. What remained was a social club for young orthodox warriors.
Amid the chatter flowing freely, talk of the new institute was bound to come up. Especially with the intriguing rumors swirling through the markets.
"I hear the unorthodox Sword Demon is actually still alive."
"And that he's even opened a new institute?"
"Nonsense. If that rumor were true, the orthodox factions would move in themselves."
Naturally, not a soul believed the market gossip wholesale. The Sword Demon, said to have died decades ago, not only alive but setting up an institute here in Henan?
"I'm not denying the Sword Demon's achievements, but even for him, establishing an institute here—where the orthodox Virtuous Martial Institute holds sway—wouldn't be easy."
"Besides, the Sword Demon died decades ago. It's absurd."
Nominally founded for orthodox-unorthodox harmony, in their minds, the Virtuous Martial Institute had become purely orthodox territory.
Just then, as they clustered in groups chattering like sparrows, a boy in navy silk robes—perched heavily like a hawk—spoke in a cold voice.
"No need for pointless market rumors. Have you found what I asked about?"
"Yes, we have... but actually..."
"What now?"
"It seems she's gone to that rumored institute."
"Tch. No paradise in the place you flee to. She still hasn't realized it."
His cold eyes flickered with regret for a moment, but it didn't last. As the boy fell silent, one of the observing students ventured,
"Shall we send students to drag her back?"
"Leave her be. She'll only return to her place once she realizes it herself."
"Understood."
"Drink in moderation and head back. You've got studies tomorrow too."
With that, the boy rose first. Was it his stern words? The rowdy gathering of students ebbed away like the tide.
"Senior Brother, since it came up— if we fetch her ourselves, couldn't we make a solid impression on the Namgung Clan this time?"
"But the Young Lord said to leave it be..."
"He just couldn't bring himself to order it outright! And it's not hard anyway! Just dragging one girl back—what's the big deal?!"
Yet among them, some always harbored different intentions.