Chapter 65
Chapter 65
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Entrance Ceremony (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In the novel's setting, the relationship between the Northern Peng Clan and the Pearl Eon Family was particularly close.
With my involvement altering the original story slightly, it made sense that Peng Mu-hyuk had come looking for me.
But Gong Son-mu-gyeol's visit didn't make sense.
After all, the one Gong Son-mu-gyeol was supposed to pass the Emperor's Sword to was someone else.
'Not someone inside this inn.'
And the timing was supposed to be after the entrance ceremony, not right now.
'According to the academy schedule, it happens around the end of the first semester's final exams.'
As I furrowed my brow trying to figure out why this was happening now...
Peng Mu-hyuk crossed his arms, staring at Gong Son-mu-gyeol with evident disdain before speaking.
"Hey, Alliance Leader. I can tolerate a lot, but calling the sword the king of all weapons is pushing it."
"Hahaha, Peng Senior. There's a misunderstanding. I wasn't saying that this Gong Son-mu-gyeol's Emperor's Sword surpasses the swords of the Five Great Sword Sects. It was just a general talk about how people in the jianghu perceive it and the warrior's spirit."
At first, I thought, What kind of petty argument is this?
And given Gong Son-mu-gyeol's social savvy, I figured it'd wrap up quickly.
"I can't accept that either. What do swordsmen do when they don't think about retreat? They discard their scabbards, right? But most swords don't even have one. That means the weapon that embodies the unyielding spirit of the warrior is the saber. Hmm. If the sword is the king of all weapons, then the saber must be the emperor of all weapons."
"Haha. But is not retreating the only warrior's spirit? Sheathing the sword and returning home even when you could cut down the enemy before you. Cleanly admitting your shortcomings and withdrawing. Isn't that also a true warrior's spirit?"
But I was wrong.
Murim folk had childish sides, like they had reverse scales on the strangest things.
"Hah. Shall we see whose spirit is superior, long or short?"
"Haha. Since you're here in the inn not as Alliance Leader but as an individual, it's a tempting proposal. Assuming no rift forms between you and me regardless of the outcome, this unworthy junior will humbly request a match with Saber Senior today."
Who could've guessed that Peng Mu-hyuk, the hegemon of Northern Hebei Murim and spiritual pillar of all saber users under heaven, and Gong Son-mu-gyeol, the mediator of the entire murim and paragon of integrity, would vein their necks and foreheads arguing over whether swords or sabers were cooler?
No one.
'Because no one would dare say saber's better or sword's better in front of those two.'
At the same time, I thought how disastrous it would've been if I'd blurted out the 'So who wins?' that had crossed my mind earlier.
Either way, whether for the original story or murim's peace, I had to stop these two from their childish spat.
'Whichever loses, it'll be a mess. And grudges would spell big trouble.'
I had to intervene.
It was a bit rude to butt into a debate between elders, but trusting their fondness for me—wanting to teach me their arts—I cleared my throat.
"Ahem."
Only then did Peng Mu-hyuk and Gong Son-mu-gyeol's clashing glares soften, and Father seized the moment to speak.
"Come on, mind your dignity. The kids are watching."
...Kids? Plural?
Glancing back at Father's words, I saw five heads—shhk—vanishing in order of size: Yin Ha-yeon, Wu So-rung, Eon Yong-myeong, Yin Ha-seong, and Jeong Hyun-in, it seemed.
'Those brats skipped training to spy instead of sleeping it off.'
This won't do.
Starting tomorrow, I'll really drill them.
Anyway, putting those aside.
Peng Mu-hyuk and Gong Son-mu-gyeol looked somewhat sheepish at Father's words.
"Ahem! That's exactly why, with kids watching! They might pick up bad habits!"
"Thank you, Eon Senior. This Gong Son-mu-gyeol nearly committed an irredeemable blunder. Meeting a genius with true swordsman's qualities after so long, I lost my composure for a moment."
But honestly, Father Eon Jeong-ung looked just as undignified.
At Gong Son-mu-gyeol's words about losing reason over my talent, Father's lips were already curling up.
"I can understand Uncle offering this to me. But Alliance Leader, why suddenly make that proposal to me?"
"Ah, it must've sounded odd coming from a stranger. Junior, do you remember Myeong Taesung, Hall Leader of Myeong?"
Myeong Taesung?
A name I remembered.
He was the one who'd scouted me the night before the entrance exam.
"Mm. He introduced himself as a Strike Team Hall Leader and gave me a badge, saying to inquire at the Alliance branch if I had troubles."
"Yes, that's him. He said there's a late-generation genius with talent beyond words and ambitions too vast to fathom, so check him out at the entrance ceremony."
Twitch twitch.
"...Oh."
"Back then, I thought he'd found someone truly impressive. Not long after, Myeong Taesung visited me at the Righteous Martial Academy, saying they needed to discuss Alliance scholarship selections."
Tremble tremble.
"...Ah."
"The new students caught ghosts from Lower Park, and among them, the leader-equivalent was current top student, so by system, the vice-leader Jeong Hyun had to get the scholarship. That's when I saw your name second."
Throughout the conversation, Father's lips kept twitching so much it was hard to focus.
'If you're gonna talk about dignity, Father, control those fluttering lips first...'
"The third time was, as you know, at the ceremony site. Hitting big in Northern Hebei yet standing tall before his father Eon Senior and uncle Peng Senior here. I figured whatever's in that belly is at least a serpent-spirit level guy."
Gong Son-mu-gyeol's voice continued.
"Then after the event, Wild Storm Moon Blade Senior—er, now Elegant Wind Moon Blade?—anyway, Old Third Senior mentioned someone surprising him with Three Star Swordsmanship. When I asked who, it was your name again. Other academy instructors were talking about you too, praise or criticism."
And Father's lips kept twitching.
- ...Your father looks like he's having facial spasms to anyone watching.
'Tell me about it. If he wants to laugh, just laugh. Why hold back?'
Anyway.
Why bring up ambitions and such?
I spoke to clarify.
"Alliance Leader. If I may, there's a slight misunderstanding in your words. Especially regarding the ambitions I supposedly hold..."
"No misunderstanding, no need to be modest. They say coincidence thrice makes fate. Three, four times—no, counting your prodigal days, five or six, plus blocking Peng Senior's saber just now makes eight. First time a late-genius's name has ingrained in my mind like this."
Nothing to say to that.
As I scratched my chin, Gong Son-mu-gyeol's gaze—having swept Father and Peng Senior—fixed on me.
"Satisfied? So, Peng Senior or me?!"
And now he urged a decision.
"Ahem!"
"Heh. Hm, heh."
Not just Peng Mu-hyuk and Father, but even the eyes peeking from heads on the inn's second floor turned to me.
The one gulping nervously was probably Ha-seong.
Courted by saber and ancient sword.
A proposal most murim folk wouldn't dream of.
Considering their earlier growl over king of weapons, it dwarfed any mom's apple pie dilemma.
But my answer was set.
'I have a master already.'
Leg techniques, kicks, staff, or hidden arts? Tempting. But swordsmanship or saber arts? Pointless.
I had Sword Demon Wi Cheol-jin's sword secrets fed to me live.
'Looks like Three Star Swordsmanship to current murim eyes, though.'
Problem: how to refuse.
Especially leave room with Gong Son-mu-gyeol.
'Can't predict how my meddling changes the future. Make myself the beneficiary for now, pass it on later if needed.'
That way, I could snag an introduction fee later.
And until then, as 'prospective' Murim Alliance Leader's disciple, secure a foothold in the Alliance's core.
To convey intent while hiding scheming, delay was best.
Decision made, I spoke.
"Do I have to answer now?"
At my delay, Gong Son-mu-gyeol asked when I'd decide.
I said about six months, per original timing.
But this pleased the elders more than expected.
"Hahaha. 'Gonna clash directly'? No wonder I can't help but take interest, haha. That makes nine. Expecting the tenth: you seeking me out to learn. Here, a token with my name. Useless in academy, but keep it for emergencies."
"Hmph. That guy's stubborn. This uncle must return to Northern Hebei. I'll inform in advance; if you change mind before, talk to Jae-hyuk at the academy."
Watching, Father twitched his lips to the end.
Unable to laugh outright, he cleared his throat and stood.
"We've had tea. Time to ride the Yangtze's waves before they rise. Prep students have course registrations, dorm assignments—busy times, you know."
With that, Father got Gong Son-mu-gyeol and Peng Mu-hyuk up, then pulled a money pouch from his sleeve and pressed it into my hand.
"...Ahem. Not sure if I qualify to say this, but do your best. When you have time, send a letter to your mother too."
I tried refusing, flicking it back with Golden Snatcher adaptation.
"I have plenty of money."
But against Father the Fist Master, my technique was a worm before a chrysalis.
In a blink, the pouch was back in my sleeve.
"!"
No time to admire true sleeve-stow, as Father hustled Peng Mu-hyuk and Gong Son-mu-gyeol out busily.
I muttered, Man, oh man,
Then called one of the lurkers on this floor.
"Yong-myeong. I have eyes on me, but you escort Father!"
"Yes! Brother, I'll head out too! See you at the academy later!"
Eon Yong-myeong dashed down, bowed, and left.
Then Master at my waist transmitted a word.
This is why you don't take disciples with black hair. "Do I have to answer now?" A Heaven-Splitting Sword Sect disciple practicing not sword, kick, fist, or staff but mixed sword techniques?! Argh!!!
'Sigh. Master doesn't trust this disciple again.'
- How dare you say that. The height of ingratitude, you punk!
'Master, if I wanted it, I'd have begged right now. Don't you know your disciple's nature? Any other way to send Peng Uncle and Gong Uncle off nicely?'
- Th-that so? As expected of my chosen disciple.
'Yong-un won't forget this.'
- Ahem. Then say so from the start!
As I chatted with Master, the hiding kids rushed down, chattering.
"W-was that really the Murim Alliance Leader?"
"Duh, didn't you get the scholarship onstage at the ceremony? He was in the VIP seats."
"I wasn't in my right mind then, don't remember."
"It was the Alliance Leader. And refusing his and Peng Clan Head's offers yourself? Eon Young Master is amazing."
"Right? A swordless wanderer would've jumped at it, yet he learns another art."
To my Eon brothers, I fairly flicked four chestnuts.
Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap!
"Ow!"
"Ack?!"
"Ah!"
"Huh?!"
Staring blankly.
"You slackers skip training too? Rare chance like this, at least greet them. Especially Yin Sis, aspiring merchant queen."
Not sated with flicks, I scolded.
"Discipline's lax lately. All to the backyard."
Dragging Eon brothers out back, correcting laxness, forcing cycles—how long?
As sun neared midday sky.
Inn door opened; three seniors in yellow uniforms entered.
One spoke.
"I'm Gwak Woo-myeong, Autonomy Club Vice President of Yun Nation Hall. Here to propose joining. Care to talk?"
The time of choices had come.
Now, which to join for the best rumors?