Chapter 18
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Weapons of the Westerner
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Yang Cho-gun brushed past the first brother and charged straight at the second.
"You bastard! Die!"
The second brother swung his axe at the oncoming Yang Cho-gun, but Yang's thrust was far quicker than the axe.
In the blink of an eye, more than four thrusts pierced the second brother's vital points.
Pfft! Pfft! Stab! Stab!
It was an attack that truly demonstrated what extreme speed meant.
Yang Cho-gun's body left only a faint afterimage in its wake.
"Gaaaargh!"
"Big brother! Second brother! You son of a bitch!"
The third brother charged in with fire in his eyes.
He hurled one of his sickles at Yang Cho-gun, then leaped over it to attack from both sides. Attacking from above and below like that.
But Yang Cho-gun didn't panic. He ignored the flying sickle and leaped toward the third brother.
A flash, and he landed back on the ground.
Then the third brother collapsed with a thud.
A red dot marked his forehead, and soon blood trickled down from it.
"Third brother!"
With the third brother dead from a pierced forehead, the first brother pressed his acupoint to staunch the bleeding and swung his twin swords at Yang Cho-gun with terrifying momentum.
"You bastard! Give me your neck!"
It was like a wounded beast charging heedless of its life.
Escaping the range of those twin swords didn't look easy for Yang Cho-gun either.
And blocking those thick twin swords head-on with his slender rapier was absolutely impossible.
Just as the twin swords were about to cleave him from both sides, Yang Cho-gun leaped into the air in an instant. Spinning mid-air, his thrust pierced the first brother's shoulder and stabbed his heart.
The heart burst, and blood sprayed like a fountain from the shoulder.
'To track the trajectory of his swords right up to the end and dodge in a flash... impressive composure and agility.'
As the spurting blood began to slow, the first brother spoke in a strained voice, cursing as if in malediction.
"Urgh... Damn it. I'll... go to hell first and wait for you..."
Thud!
The first brother stretched out on the ground alongside his brothers.
Yang Cho-gun shook his rapier roughly, splattering blood onto the surrounding grass.
"Your skills aren't ordinary."
"Not compared to someone who toyed with the son of the Overlord Sect's leader... Urk..."
Yang Cho-gun staggered.
Blood flowed from his arm.
"You alright?"
"It's... fine. Nothing much."
"Let me take a look at that wound."
"I'm fine..."
"You're bleeding pretty badly. If we don't stop it now, it could get dangerous."
"..."
I rummaged through my luggage and pulled out a first-aid kit with a needle and silk thread.
Checking the wound, it was quite deep.
I took off one of my socks, rolled it up, and handed it to Yang Cho-gun.
"Bite down on this."
"No need."
"Is that so? You're pretty tough."
"Tough?"
"Ah, it means you've got grit, in Western terms."
"You seem to know a lot about Western culture."
"Well, as much as you do?"
"Haha... Is that right?"
Yang Cho-gun gave a wry smile at my words.
"Alright then, let's get started. It's going to hurt a lot."
Yang Cho-gun nodded silently.
I stitched up his laceration with practiced ease. Sweat poured from his forehead like rain.
"Nngh..."
Stitching raw flesh without anesthetic, and enduring it like that—he had to have considerable mental fortitude.
I finished stitching the shoulder wound, slathered on some golden sore salve, and bandaged it up.
Watching my treatment, Yang Cho-gun spoke in an exhausted tone.
"You... seem awfully familiar with this. Did you study medicine separately?"
"Nah, just picked it up naturally from living like this."
I rolled up my sleeve to show the ugly scars on my arm.
"..."
Yang Cho-gun had seen them once before, but realizing all my arm wounds had been treated this way seemed to give him food for thought.
Just as I was curious about his past, he seemed equally intrigued by mine.
With the emergency treatment done, we gathered the bodies of the Twin-Handed Four Ghosts' three brothers and hurried on.
But with Yang Cho-gun injured, a forced march was out of the question.
We decided to rest at a nearby inn and let him recover.
Yang Cho-gun felt bad and told me to go ahead, but with the entrance exam still two weeks away, there was no rush, so I reassured him we could take it slow.
Grateful, Yang Cho-gun's attitude toward me softened noticeably.
We were now at the point where we could chat casually about everyday things without hesitation.
About a week later, once Yang Cho-gun had recovered somewhat, he asked,
"I've heard the tuition at the Imperial Palace Martial Academy is exorbitantly high. Are you sure you can afford it?"
"Me? Well... What about you?"
"I'm planning to cover it with my body—service, that is."
"Hm, covering it with your body, huh."
If you paid tuition and graduated, you could choose your career freely. But if you attended on a full scholarship, you had to serve ten years mandatory duty in the imperial army after graduation.
"You know how I'm shunned in the Central Plains martial world, right? So I'm thinking of enlisting in the military instead."
"Hm. Haven't you considered this?"
"What?"
"The military might not let you use that Western sword either."
"..."
"They might even be more strict about it. If you don't comply, they'd probably treat it as insubordination. That's the military for you."
"You talk like you've been in the army."
I was a discharged army veteran, so it wasn't wrong.
"Well, I've heard a few things."
"From what I heard, they let martial artists use their unique weapons."
"That probably means Central Plains weapons. They're Central Plains folk too—they're not likely to overlook you using Western weapons."
"...Is that so?"
Disappointment was plain on Yang Cho-gun's face.
He looked like he was rethinking his plans even now.
"Mind if I ask why you're so set on the academy?"
"My master taught me that Western martial arts are in no way inferior to those of the Central Plains. I want to show that to the world. And I can't keep being a bounty hunter forever. I... want to see a wider world."
'I see. In that case.'
I made a proposal to Yang Cho-gun.
"How about this? If you help me out, I could lend you the tuition money. Then you wouldn't have to join the army, right?"
"You'd cover my tuition? Are you that rich? And what exactly do you need help with?"
"See, I don't have much experience against swordsmen like you."
"Meaning?"
"On the way to the Imperial Palace Martial Academy, be my sparring partner—no, my training opponent."
"Training?"
"Yeah."
"You'd give me that much money just for that?"
"I didn't say give. I said lend."
"Isn't that the same? What makes you trust me with that kind of cash? What if I run off?"
I pointed to the rapier at his waist.
"I can tell your honor from that rapier."
"H-how do you know the name of this sword?"
"Ah, well, I once read a book called Records of Western Travels at a bookstore. It had a section introducing Western weapons, so I paid close attention."
"I see. You're more knowledgeable than you look. You know Western speech, excel at medicine..."
"Haha, well anyway, seeing how you've stuck by your master's side despite the martial world's rejection, I believe you won't sell your honor for pocket change."
"..."
Touched by my understanding of his true feelings, Yang Cho-gun wore the most friendly expression I'd seen from him yet.
"Shall we start right away? Or from tomorrow?"
"You sure your body's up for it? We just took out the stitches."
"That wound's all healed."
"Really? I'm worried."
"Since we're on the topic, let's start now. Real swords are too dangerous, so I'll use wooden ones."
Yang Cho-gun picked up a suitable branch nearby and began shaping it with his dagger.
That dagger was also a mango steel blade.
"Those weapons were your master's?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Your master must have been from the Western Regions, obviously."
Yang Cho-gun nodded silently.
"Did he return to his homeland?"
"No."
"Then?"
"Sadly, my master was buried here in the Central Plains."
"I see. My condolences. Before I entered the martial world, I buried my own master in a sunny spot with these hands."
As I gazed weakly at my palms, Yang Cho-gun spoke with full understanding of my feelings.
"My condolences to you as well. What was your master like?"
"I didn't serve him long, but he saved my life and passed everything he knew to me before he left."
"Just like my master."
"Let's both honor our late masters' reputations at the Imperial Palace Martial Academy."
"Yeah, we have to. Ready to start?"
"Sure."
"What style? Central Plains way? Or Western?"
"What do you mean?"
"Shall I fight Central Plains style? Or Western?"
"Oh? You know Central Plains swordsmanship too?"
"Actually, I'm from the Hainan Sect. It was when I was very young."
'Hm, so that's how it was.'
I'd suspected he trained in Central Plains internal energy, and sure enough, he'd been part of a Central Plains sect.
The Hainan Sect was a renowned martial family in the south, alongside the Jeonchang Sect.
"Decided? How shall I fight?"
This felt like debating Chinese food or a restaurant.
I chose Chinese for now.
Most enemies I'd face in the martial world would use Central Plains swordsmanship anyway.
And so our sparring began.
It was like rehab training for Yang Cho-gun—a light warmup bout.
Of course, with no internal energy used, there was no risk of serious injury.
As we sparred playfully in the open space behind the inn, spectators began to gather to watch us.