The Flash Sword and the Final Lesson
Jin Mu-gak spoke in a calm, measured tone. “I am the Flash Sword, Jin Mu-gak. You are Jeong Mun-gyu, the one stationed here in Wungye County with the Illusory Ring Divine Fist, correct?”
The moment that name left his lips, Jeong Mun-gyu’s breath caught in his throat. A Peak Expert. A man whose fame was far too great to be wasted on something as trivial as searching the Yeon-yeon Blood Valley. For the sect leader of the Three Mountains School to come down to this remote backwater in person…
The three years of accumulated resentment and boredom froze solid in an instant.
“I never imagined the sect leader of the Three Mountains School would visit in person… It is an honor.”
Jeong Mun-gyu clasped his hands in a trembling fist salute. Even though they were both at the Peak realm, the gap between them was vast. In front of the Flash Sword, he felt impossibly small.
“Allow me to escort you.”
“No need. Your disciples will be sufficient.”
“Pardon…?”
Jeong Mun-gyu’s gaze shifted behind the Flash Sword. Three young disciples. Not a single senior member of the clan was present. They appeared to be at best second-rate to first-rate in strength. Their eyes were filled only with curiosity and tension.
It was clear they had taken this mission far too lightly.
“It is dangerous. The poison in that place is so potent that even the Flash Sword would struggle to endure it. Your disciples would be in peril the moment they set foot inside.”
Jeong Mun-gyu’s voice was thick with alarm. The faces of the warriors who had died here over the past three years flashed through his mind. Even he had found his breath stifled at the entrance of the Yeon-yeon Blood Valley, making the search nearly impossible. Young disciples would not be able to take more than a few steps.
“It is fine. Even if something goes wrong, I will not hold the Illusory Ring Divine Fist responsible. After all, I came here at the request of Cheongpung.”
Cheongpung Dojang, Jin Mu-gak. A Mount Hua Sect elder and a high-ranking member of the Murim Alliance. He was Guo Qingming’s uncle and one of the main figures who had branded Baek Un-hyeon as a demonic human.
The moment that name was spoken, a bitter taste filled Jeong Mun-gyu’s mouth. He had felt Cheongpung’s obsession keenly for the past three years. The man’s eyes would change at the mere mention of Baek Un-hyeon. It was probably due to the rage he felt over his nephew nearly being killed.
That was what Jeong Mun-gyu believed. And that same rage was what kept him chained to this rural backwater.
Jeong Mun-gyu no longer tried to stop them. Those sent by Jin Mu-gak had always ignored his warnings.
Still, if it’s someone of the Flash Sword’s caliber, he should be able to return alive.
“When you smile, don’t show too many teeth, my child. Cover your mouth lightly with your hand so only half is visible. Let your sleeves hang long, revealing only the tips of your fingers. A woman becomes more beautiful the more she conceals.”
“Yes…!”
“Sometimes brush your hair behind your ear. Do it with the faintest smile, while glancing sideways at the same time.”
“Yesss!”
“Gaze into the distance with eyes full of melancholy. Don’t explain your heart to anyone. Simply sigh inwardly, then smile again as if to say everything is fine.”
“Um… yes.”
“Don’t drag out the end of your words. That can be charming when used for coquetry, but you must become a mysterious and elegant woman. Save coquetry only for when it is truly necessary.”
By the time more than three years had passed, Hong Mae decided that Ok-yeon was ready. She began teaching her in earnest how to captivate men.
Ok-yeon no longer resisted. She had fully accepted that she must use any means necessary.
After Eun Baek-ho left, Hong Mae’s complexion grew haggard with each passing day. She could not know how much longer she would last. Every time Ok-yeon saw her face, her chest grew tight.
“Are you all right, Pavilion Master?”
“Why do you ask so suddenly?”
“Your complexion looks very poor.”
Ok-yeon’s voice trembled. She had learned a little medicine from Hong Mae. After all, Hong Mae had mastered every possible art in order to survive. Her hand gently took hold of Hong Mae’s wrist. The pulse was weak. Far too weak.
“Please rest now. I found something when I went out last time.”
“Are you planning to go out again…?”
“Yes. I think I can find something good.”
Ok-yeon’s eyes wavered. She did not want to lose Hong Mae. The woman had come to feel like family.
The initial resolve not to give her heart had long since become meaningless.
Ok-yeon moved in the same direction she had taken during her outing roughly ten days earlier. She had only memorized the location after discovering it on her way back. This time, with a clear destination, the trip would not take long.
“As long as I don’t go poking around blindly, there’s no risk of getting lost.”
The natural formation of the Yeon-yeon Blood Valley had not been created with malicious intent to harm humans. It had simply become extremely toxic to them after forming. If she advanced carefully, she would not lose her way completely like the first time, nor would she circle the same spot endlessly.
Even if she did lose her way, a short distance would usually lead her back to a familiar path.
“It really is close.”
Soon the four corpses she had remembered came into view. They had not been dead long. The bodies were still so vivid that her heart sank. But…
“Right now, I’m grateful for it…”
When she searched their belongings, she found jerky that still held a sheen of oil. It was exactly what she had hoped for.
“Judging by their attire, they seem to be from the same sect. Three young warriors and one middle-aged man.”
For a moment she worried they might be from the Murim Alliance, but upon closer inspection, that did not seem to be the case.
“I still can’t tell who they are just from this. I should have paid more attention to what was happening outside… It’s no wonder I was so easily deceived when I know so little.”
Continuing her search, she found several packets of golden wound medicine. From the woman’s belongings, she also retrieved some powder and cosmetics.
“The Pavilion Master will be pleased with this.”
A rare, clear smile bloomed on Ok-yeon’s face, which had always been shadowed by vengeance and sorrow. She imagined the bright, beautiful face of the middle-aged woman who cared for her and smiled. Her chest grew warm.
“…Then I will make good use of these keepsakes.”
Ok-yeon quietly offered the corpses a fist salute. Since they were not warriors of the Murim Alliance, there was no reason to treat them as enemies. She turned her body toward the brain prison.
“The middle-aged man’s physique was impressive. I wonder how he ended up dying with them.”
The final scene of the warriors looked as though the three young ones had been pressuring the older man. That in itself was common enough. Leaving behind resentment toward the one who had led them to their deaths.
But conflict arising within the same sect to the point of death would not be common.
“He must have driven his sect’s disciples to their deaths, then, overcome by guilt, chose not to return alone and died with them. While the young disciples were still alive, they probably couldn’t find the exit.”
It was a relatively accurate deduction. However, Ok-yeon did not know that if they had not been such outstanding disciples, they might have been able to flee even from the entrance.
The cold poison had penetrated deep into her marrow. There was no part of her that did not sting, as if she had thrown herself naked into a snowfield. Her blood vessels burned with pain that felt as though they would tear apart. Had her body become more sensitive after turning into a woman?
It felt as though she would collapse at any moment and begin sobbing uncontrollably. The freezing agony. The pressure that squeezed her chest. Ok-yeon gritted her teeth and did not stop circulating her energy.
“Hngh…!”
A groan escaped her. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her body twisted violently. Even as she rolled across the floor, she did not stop reciting the mnemonic.
Absorb the cold poison… reverse the blood flow…
The pain of the Reverse-Blood Divine Art never became easier to bear. Even after five years of training, she had only reached the fourth stage. When she had learned her family’s core technique, she had achieved great completion in just ten years. Whether because the divine art was on a far higher level or because her progress was unstable, the results were inconsistent.
“Cough…!”
She spat blood. Having transformed, her body now possessed a pure constitution; there should have been no turbid blood within her. The cold poison simply had not been properly digested. While others would accumulate this and die, for her the cold poison was not entirely a bad thing.
“Wouldn’t it be better to stop now? If you continue, your body may suffer permanent damage.”
“…Yes.”
“Good. Rest a little, then let’s review the other martial arts.”
Over the five years, the two things Hong Mae had taught her most were how to conduct herself as a woman, and the everyday martial techniques and knowledge that courtesans learned.
Ok-yeon gave a small nod and gently lifted the hem of her thin silk robe. She had gathered several garments while wandering outside. It was truly mysterious why people continued to visit such an ominous place.
She slowly inhaled. The silk brushed against her skin with a soft sound. When she twisted her waist slightly, the fabric shifted over her chest, subtly revealing its full, generous curves. The weight and elasticity of the sensation was enough to make even her own breath catch.
The air slipping between the folds brushed her skin, sending faint shivers through her. As her hand rose gracefully, the sleeve stretched long and soared toward the sky. Ok-yeon smiled softly and swung the garment. The sleeve flowed like waves, cutting through the air with a clear sound.
The fabric fluttered back down. Her long hair swayed gently, cascading over her shoulder. The tips brushed her skin, sending a thrill racing up her spine.
Then her hand extended once more. From the sleeve in her grasp, a fan unfolded. She wrapped the fan in the silk, drew it back, and assumed a new stance. The moment her fingers closed around the fan’s ribs, the soft texture of the paper tickled her palm.
She rotated the fan slowly, lightly covering her mouth. Her eyelashes quivered, and her gaze flowed with seductive charm. The corners of her lips lifted, spreading into a smile. That smile was both cold and burning hot. Anyone who saw it would likely be entranced, unable to look away.
The tip of the fan in Ok-yeon’s hand brushed Hong Mae’s face, leaving behind a chilling sensation. Then the fan left her hand entirely. Its soft yet sharp edge spun coldly through the air. The fan embedded itself in a wooden pillar, quivering.
Ok-yeon, who had spun gracefully, now lifted the brush that had been lying on the floor. Holding it in her open palm felt remarkably stable. She moved it slowly, as if writing calligraphy. Her waist flowed with supple grace as the tip of the brush danced through the air. It scattered against the resistance of the air, then gathered once more, sharpening into a piercing strike that stabbed the empty space.
Ok-yeon pulled the hairpin from her hair. The motion was soft, as though she were simply smoothing her locks. The strands brushed her skin, tickling her body. While Hong Mae’s gaze was captured by Ok-yeon’s flowing hair, the hairpin flew and struck the fan embedded in the pillar, knocking it free.
And then she was holding an umbrella. The moment she gripped it, Ok-yeon’s entire aura changed. Her sleeves fluttered wildly and her eyes darkened.
“Enough.”
“Pardon?”
“Really… the moment you grab anything resembling a sword, you become like this.”
She had followed along well enough during the lessons. But the instant she took hold of the umbrella, a thick killing intent would pour out of her.
“Still, you’ve become perfect now. If you can just control your heart a little more, there should be no problem even if you hold an umbrella. I don’t think there is anything left for me to teach you.”
“N-no, I’m still…”
“Why do you look so startled? You haven’t forgotten your grudge, have you?”
Hong Mae knew that was impossible. She simply felt sorrowful that her own ability was not enough to teach Ok-yeon any longer.
“Pavilion Master…”
“Well, if we were outside, I could have taught you so much more… but it cannot be helped. My teachings end here, my child.”
“Couldn’t you try learning the Reverse-Blood Divine Art again, Pavilion Master? Then we could leave together.”
“Hehe, you know that’s impossible.”
“But that was in the beginning, when I knew nothing. Now that I have gained so much insight, I can teach you many more things.”
“Ok-yeon.”
Hong Mae called her name with gentle eyes. At some point, Ok-yeon’s eyes had begun to shimmer. Perhaps it was because she had emphasized feminine behavior too strongly. She had never been the type to shed tears over such things. Yet in the end, tears welled up in Ok-yeon’s eyes.
Her chest felt tight. She did not want to lose Hong Mae. The woman had come to feel like family—like a mother.
Hong Mae gently wiped away those tears with her fingertips. A mixture of bitterness and pride crossed her face.
“Do you know why I asked you to call me Pavilion Master?”
“I don’t.”
“Because I did not want you to see me as your master.”
“No matter what I call you, Pavilion Master, I…!”
“Stop. That won’t do. You have things you must accomplish.”
“We can do them together…”
“I do not wish to become your weakness.”
“You have someone you want to see too! You cried every day because you missed that child! You must want revenge as well!”
“Didn’t you promise to do all of that in my place?”
“Whether it’s revenge… or meeting the person you long for… it’s only natural to want to do those things yourself…”
Hong Mae stroked Ok-yeon’s hair with a bitter smile. Five years had already passed. She had grown far too attached. She now saw the girl as no different from her own daughter. She had cherished her so dearly, embracing her with a mother’s heart. She had come to love her as much as if she had given birth to her.
Ok-yeon would not know. For her, who practiced the Reverse-Blood Divine Art, the despair of that first day must feel like a distant memory from the distant past.
Hong Mae was dying.
Every time she demonstrated martial arts for Ok-yeon, the cold poison that had seeped into her body tore her insides to shreds. It was becoming impossible to hide that from her any longer. If she had lived like Eun Baek-ho, never practicing or using martial arts, she might have lasted a few more years.
She did not regret it. Because the child who was both her greatest daughter, son, and disciple would surely step out into the world. Bing Ok-yeon would undoubtedly fulfill their long-cherished wish.