Chapter 115
Chapter 115
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 115
Chapter Title: What if I Do That for You? (1)
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I set aside Peng So-jin, who wanted to have a talk, and first turned to Woo So-rung.
"So-rung."
"Yes, Brother Eon."
"If you go around that corner, there's a well. Could you fetch me a ladle of water from there?"
"Yes, sir!"
Peng So-jin frowned with her refined features at my actions.
"I'm still your big sister here, and you're ignoring me?"
Her voice seemed like it would well up with tears if scolded even a little.
I hadn't asked Woo So-rung to fetch water to ignore Peng So-jin, so I immediately replied.
"I heard you loud and clear. But it didn't seem like something we could settle with just words, so I figured we'd hydrate first. Can't you see me all drenched in sweat?"
"...Ah."
Her expression showed she truly hadn't noticed.
It wasn't hard to understand.
She's probably out of it.
In the original story, Peng So-jin agonized and wandered for far longer before abandoning the path and taking up the sword.
The longer the period, the longer she stewed inside.
But that also meant her descent into heart demons happened gradually.
If heart demons were like a drizzle, the original Peng So-jin slowly walked through it until she arrived at her destination completely soaked without realizing.
Whereas the big sister before me stood bewildered right in the middle of a downpour, short as it was.
Compared to the original, the time she'd fallen into heart demons was incomparably brief, but the one delivering the decisive shock to her mind was someone she'd known since childhood—and now known as a scoundrel: me.
On top of that, I directly told her the sword suits her.
No wonder.
If there was a cauldron in Peng So-jin's chest, it must have boiled black.
Then receiving the Golden Needle Grand Technique from the Medicine King elder—perhaps that's why she was told to join the Murim Alliance tour.
If it had been Brother So-cheon, he'd have gone 'Oh!' and that would've ended his worries. But Sister So-jin, born the same day, same hour, same womb as Pang So-cheon, has a completely different temperament.
She wouldn't have forgotten that I hadn't vaguely said I'd show her a path to growth, but clearly stated the sword suits her more than the path.
And she'd have fallen into heart demons again.
No need for mind-reading or mind-watching techniques.
The whirlwind of complex emotions in Peng So-jin's eyes confirmed my words were true.
It's about time. Time to give Sister So-jin's back a little more push.
The downpour is heavy but brief.
Time to end her dilemma.
As they say, it takes two hands to clap. It wouldn't be easy dragging an undecided Peng So-jin before Impeccably Honorable Gong and forging a master-disciple bond between them.
"Brother Eon! Got the water!"
"Thanks."
That was as far as my thoughts went.
I gulped down the water Woo So-rung brought.
Then—
Shing—
I drew Regret.
And stepped to the center of the training ground.
Peng So-jin spoke up at my actions.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"You said you wanted to talk, right?"
"Yes, talk—but why draw your sword?"
"I thought showing you would be more effective than just talking."
"What?"
"Ever since you received the Golden Needle Grand Technique from the Medicine King elder, the aura you're giving off and that straight sword at your waist... I worried you might misunderstand me. Big sister, draw your sword from your waist too. Let's spar like when we were kids."
The Eon and Pang families were as close as one family under the same roof, and the original story mentioned how the Pang twins and Eon brothers played together a lot as children.
The way martial family kids played was obvious.
Sparring or war games.
Back then, Pang So-cheon hadn't manifested his Fierce Tiger Physique yet, pre-reformation me preferred play over diligent training, and Eon Yong-myeong was young and mild-mannered compared to them. Peng So-jin's martial talent stood out.
So in war games, she was the general, and spars naturally became instruction sessions.
Therefore.
My suggestion to spar like kids would sound to her like "let's do an instruction spar."
Of course, with our current skills confirmed in the spring inter-dormitory matches, mine are superior.
More precisely, it would sound like I was offering to instruct her this time.
And sure enough.
"...You!"
Peng So-jin's face flushed with anger, and the straight sword at her waist was drawn.
Shing—
But without any maintenance, the notch from blocking Regret was still there, marring the sleek black blade.
-Right after losing to you, she neither fixed nor discarded it, so that straight sword holds lingering attachment for the Pang daughter's child.
That's why I'm going to shatter it completely.
Eon Yong-un's words about sparring like when they were kids inexplicably ignited a flame in Peng So-jin's chest.
Surrendering to that flame, she found herself drawing her sword and closing in on Eon Yong-un.
Whoooosh!!!
Of course, it wasn't a wild swing in blind rage.
It was a fierce, swift thrust, calibrated to the skills she'd witnessed from him in the spring tournament.
Clang!!!
But Eon Yong-un blocked Peng So-jin's thrust with ease.
As if matching her level, he didn't even counterattack, and with spare composure, he even spoke.
"So, what was it you wanted to discuss with me?"
Eon Yong-un stayed purely defensive.
Giving Peng So-jin some leeway too.
Clang! Cha-clang!!
Discuss?
"...I was going to ask if the Medicine King elder's grand technique was why you're telling me to come to the Murim Alliance."
"Are you sure the one sparring with me isn't Brother So-cheon in disguise?"
Peng So-jin was obviously not Pang So-cheon.
So that remark was basically calling her an idiot.
Peng So-jin bit her lip at Eon Yong-un's words.
"...You!"
In truth, Peng So-jin had known deep down for a while.
Eon Yong-un hadn't said she'd surpass her limits by joining the Murim Alliance tour—he'd said the sword suits her more than the path.
Peng So-jin wasn't stupid enough to forget that just because she wasn't Pang So-cheon.
She'd asked grasping at straws.
If it wasn't with the grand technique in mind, it really meant abandon the sword.
That denies my whole life.
What was so urgent? Not wanting to fall behind her dongsaeng who'd followed her since birth, she'd cut sleep—even when others played—swinging her sword until her hands blistered over and over.
And that was wrong?
Especially coming from Eon Yong-un?
No.
Don't.
Yong-un. If you say that, I'll end up despising myself.
When all of Hebei pointed fingers at Eon Yong-un, saying the tiger Eon Jeong-ung birthed a dog, calling him a scoundrel.
Peng So-jin had thought the same.
She couldn't stand seeing him wreck the Eon and Pang families day after day when she barely had time to train.
But now, it seemed all that was an act.
Just his martial prowess and Go skills at the Righteous Martial Academy proved it.
And the true face of Eon Yong-un she'd observed as a tour cadet couldn't be honed overnight.
His expertise in camping, commanding peers in perfect order.
Not bending before Namgung Uk or Yeom Jin-hoe.
Heading to Huimin Pavilion without a hint of hesitation.
While she swung her sword in the training ground, Eon Yong-un must have secretly learned the world under his scoundrel guise.
I didn't realize, playing big sister, just clicking my tongue behind his back, foolishly swinging my sword—and now he says even that's wrong?
That can't be.
It mustn't.
That was when.
As Peng So-jin's mind sank deeper into the heart demon mire.
Eon Yong-un's voice yanked at her nape.
"Sister. Changing the shape of the blade in your hand won't erase the calluses. The struggles to overcome the walls of your mind, the techniques you've honed—they won't vanish."
"...!"
"Your years wielding the sword aren't all wrong. You just took the wrong path."
And Eon Yong-un's sword hummed like a sob—
Clashing massively with Peng So-jin's notched blade.
Kraaang!!!!!
Peng So-jin's straight sword shattered in two.
It was the moment her most cherished weapon became useless.
Yet somehow, Peng So-jin's heart filled with relief.
"...Is that really true?"
"I don't know if a scoundrel's guarantee reassures you, but I vouch for it."
That was the instant Peng So-jin tossed aside the half-remaining dark iron straight sword hilt.
Seeing Peng So-jin's relieved expression, I first sent a transmission to Woo So-rung.
[So-rung. Grab that flying blade fragment and the hilt Sister So-jin just tossed.]
[Got it, Brother Eon!]
At that, my master, who was sulking in sorrow, clicked his tongue.
- ...Even now, that's what occupies you? Incorrigible!
What do you mean, Master?
That thing's solid dark iron. Sell it as scrap or melt it down—it's definitely useful somehow.
As I housed my master back in the scabbard with that retort, Peng So-jin, now missing the weight at her waist, approached me.
"So, what do I do now?"
"Rest. When I checked your pulse earlier, didn't the Medicine King elder say you're mentally and physically exhausted—just take the grand technique and rest? Lighter symptoms than Namgung Yun, so no needles in the head."
"...True."
"Tomorrow, we'll split off to our preferred divisions. Sister, sign up for the White Bone Society."
"White Bone Society? Do they have someone to teach me the sword?"
"No. I just told you to rest—didn't you hear? Is it really Brother So-cheon in disguise?"
"Shoving a pig head at me? I was pissed earlier, and now it's coming back!"
"Anyway, pick White Bone Society tomorrow and rest. With cadets from the Righteous Martial Academy here, no faction fights to see. Just tour the conference hall, snack a bit, and done. I'll arrange the sword instructor later."
"...Fine. Got it."
And so the day at the Medicine King Hall passed.
Cock-a-doodle-doo—
The next day arrived.
As the first in line to greet the Murim Alliance Leader, I donned my uniform neatly and headed to the top floor of the towering central building.
"Alliance Leader, sir. Cadet Eon Yong-un reporting."
"Send him in."
The Murim Alliance Leader, Impeccably Honorable Gong, welcomed me warmly.
"You're here. Come, sit."
"Yes, sir."
"How was your rest last night?"
"Thanks to your concern and the Medicine King elder's great grace, I slept soundly. And you, sir?"
"I smiled myself to sleep after so long—slept well."
"Something good happen?"
"The cadets on tour rushing to Huimin Pavilion first—impressive."
Ah.
Figures.
"Don't brush it off with a smile. Since I took office, no tour cadets like you. Music to my ears."
"Hearing that from you makes me quite embarrassed."
"Nothing to be embarrassed about. When we met, I said I expected your tenth report to be a request to take you as disciple. First-year vice president: ten times. Winning Cheongjuk Pavilion: twelve. Even tour group assignments: thirteen. Huimin Pavilion here: fourteen."
Folding fingers one by one praising me, Impeccably Honorable Gong stroked his goatee and subtly probed if I still had no thoughts on discipleship.
"So, still no interest in learning sword from me?"
My mind was the same then as now, but this was the topic I'd awaited.
"If I may be bold, sir—do you plan to take any other disciples besides me?"
"Hm? Veiled refusal? Or truly recommending someone?"
"I dare not presume to recommend to you, sir, but it's the latter."
It could sound rude, but Impeccably Honorable Gong seemed to like me immensely.
He nodded nonchalantly.
"Judging whether to accept is separate, but you qualify to recommend. Who is it? Among the tour cadets?"
"Cadet Peng So-jin."
"...P-Pang predecessor's eldest daughter?"