Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Needle in the Bag (8)
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In the early dawn, I awoke and drew in the chilly air deep into my lungs before pulling out my wooden sword. With my goal so clear and resolute, there was no way I could afford to sleep in.
My first objective was to climb all the way to the Hwagyeong realm, where I could wield sword aura. Honestly, these days in wuxia tales, even Pinnacle realm experts aren't treated as true masters.
To be precise, Pinnacle wasn't a low realm by any means. Without relying on external aids like spirit elixirs, it was said to take at least forty years of nonstop day-and-night training.
The problem was that in modern stories, everyone and their dog started at Pinnacle thanks to some fateful encounter. That was why even I, having reached Pinnacle at the age of thirty, couldn't afford to slack off.
At the very least, once I hit Hwagyeong—where I could unleash sword aura—I wouldn't get swept away no matter where I went.
Sua, Seolhwa, and even Namgung Yeon soon joined me in the courtyard, following my lead.
"Did you cough, Master?"
"Yes. And did the rest of you sleep peacefully last night?"
"Your profound grace allowed us to pass the night in peace."
Sua, whom I could call my chief disciple, stepped forward to greet me on behalf of Seolhwa and Namgung Yeon. It had felt a bit burdensome at first, but now I was used to it and just went with the flow.
Seolhwa still seemed weak in the mornings, nodding off with her head bobbing. I wanted to let her sleep more, but Sua wouldn't yield an inch on that front either.
[As disciples, how could we sleep soundly while our master is coughing? That would go against all propriety.]
She'd even dragged Seolhwa out of bed during the Yin hour—earlier than usual, around three to five in the morning. That was when it finally hit me.
If I couldn't stop it no matter what, it was better to set a schedule and stick to it.
In any case, after exchanging my usual perfunctory courtesies, I gripped my wooden sword and began practicing the Three Disasters Sword Art. I still had quite a ways to go before reaching its pinnacle.
Vertical Slash. Horizontal Slash.
And Thrust Sword.
The Three Disasters Sword Art was made up of moves so basic they could hardly be called forms. Yet, once mastered to the extreme, its power would surpass any martial art under heaven.
Truth be told, I was just honing the Three Disasters Sword Art out of necessity, since I couldn't use anything else. Of course, I was studying the Moyong clan's techniques on the side in my spare time...
But I hadn't made any notable progress yet. In the meantime, my disciples drew their wooden swords and followed suit, as if it were second nature—everyone except one, that is.
"Master, why do you only train the Three Disasters Sword Art?"
Namgung Yeon, the newest disciple who'd joined just a few days ago, couldn't hide his puzzled expression. I understood his confusion. Even a decayed pillar is still from a great house; he'd grown up surrounded by the Nangong clan's incredible arts.
But I couldn't exactly admit that the Three Disasters Sword Art was the only thing I could use. Forget saving face—it would be as good as handing my enemies my weaknesses on a platter.
Especially now, with the headache of the Demonic Cult as our foe. What good would it do to broadcast my fatal flaw—that I could only wield the Three Disasters Sword Art?
So, I recycled the convenient excuse I'd used on Sua before, mustering the sternest expression I could manage as I faced Namgung Yeon.
"The Three Disasters Sword Art is the beginning of all sword arts and the end they all reach. It is, quite literally, the foundation of every sword technique."
"I... I have no idea what that means."
Shit. It's not working.
Normally, that line alone would have satisfied them. But it wasn't landing with Namgung Yeon. Caught off guard, I improvised and kept going.
"Every sword art's forms boil down to nothing more than slashes and thrusts. So, if you sharpen your edge through the Three Disasters Sword Art, all other forms will naturally become far more refined and keen."
"To think it had such profound meaning!"
"No matter how sturdy a castle you build on shaky foundations, it will crumble like a house of cards. Without a solid base, everything falls apart."
Luckily, my words must have rung true enough. Namgung Yeon nodded eagerly, eyes shining. I let out a quiet sigh of relief inwardly.
And so, we kept drilling the Three Disasters Sword Art without rest until breakfast. Just then, as the sun began to rise, someone knocked on the front gate.
"No guests this early. Who could it be?"
"I'll go check."
"No, I'll handle it this time."
A bad premonition stirred in me. Unlikely as it was, the Demonic Cult might be waiting outside. Tense, I flung open the gate—and what met my eyes was...
"We've come from the Preeminent Martial Academy, Great Hero."
A completely unexpected guest.
Rumors were usually far more bark than bite, especially those born in the markets—sources of every wild tale under the sun. How impressive could they really be?
But lately, an undeniable rumor had been circulating: the Preeminent Martial Academy's esteemed instructors had been routed by a single man.
In Henan, firmly under the Murim Alliance's orthodox grip, the Academy's influence was so absolute it could shoot down birds in flight.
For such a place to spawn unfavorable gossip was exceedingly rare—especially with whispers that the Sword Demon, returned to Henan, was establishing a rival academy.
"The Academy's young lords aren't the type to go getting beaten up, are they?"
"I saw it with my own eyes—they came out looking like discarded rags!"
"I saw it too. It was definitely the Academy's young lords."
The Academy's prestige was so lofty even common folk who knew nothing of the martial world recognized it. For their instructors to be thrashed en masse?
The story was bound to spread. Not everyone bought it hook, line, and sinker, though. In the jianghu, the Sword Demon's fame reached the heavens.
But to the everyday folk scraping by day-to-day, the Sword Demon—a figure from decades past—was long forgotten. He'd never harmed them, after all.
"From what I hear, that Sword Demon's no slouch either. Not so strange for the young lords to lose."
"That's where it gets real. Full-grown men, all beaten by a single woman!"
"That's a stretch, brother."
"I'm telling you, I saw it clear as day!!"
Like words on the wind traveling a thousand li, the tale from the inn soon swept beyond the markets to all of Henan. The Academy found itself in an awkward spot.
Originally, they had no intention of responding directly. To do so would be half-admitting the rumors. Besides, they had plenty of ways to handle it without showing their hand.
Running an academy required money and supplies aplenty—all firmly in the Academy's grasp. Cut their lifeline.
Strangle them slowly until they couldn't hold out. But a few brainless instructors had made ignoring it impossible.
"Not one or two, but ten of them went in cocky and came back defeated."
"And not even to the master—to a single disciple, no less. If we let this slide, the Academy's name will hit the dirt."
"Just steamroll them with brute force. We've got the numbers—why cower?"
Henan being Murim Alliance turf, it was natural for hot-blooded young instructors to shout such bravado. The elders, however, urged caution.
"If we step in and lose, that's truly the end."
"You can't seriously believe those rumors. There's no way it's the real Sword Demon!"
"The circumstances are too uncanny to dismiss as mere hearsay. We need to tread carefully."
The name Sword Demon wasn't one to brush off lightly. Slim as the odds were, if it really was him, the whole Academy charging together wouldn't stand a chance.
"...So, what if we use this stratagem?"
"What stratagem do you mean?"
"This isn't an issue between academies. Let the students settle it purely as a spar between peers."
"Not a bad idea."
Prove the Academy's clear superiority through student sparring, while showing goodwill to cover the students' embarrassment.
Two birds with one stone. If only plans always went smoothly. The glaring flaw? They had to win the spar.
"But what if we lose?"
"That won't happen. Only one to watch out for—the rest are mediocre at best."
"Worrying is a luxury. As if our Academy's elite students could fall to no-name nobodies?"
Know the enemy and know yourself, and you need not fear a hundred battles. Having already scouted their strength, they dismissed any chance of defeat.