Chapter 10: Sparring (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 10: Sparring (4)
“Ahem.”
As I let out a dry cough, the crowd fell into an instantaneous silence.
“I have lived my life with the words of a certain saber master, who once reached the pinnacle of supremacy, as my personal creed. These ten words have made me who I am today, more than any other thousand words could.”
At my statement, the crowd cast looks of fervent longing toward me. They were dying to know what words had allowed me to become such a master.
“These were the words left by the legendary saber master, Radalando Heedonggu, when he was asked why he still hadn't put down his blade even after becoming an absolute supreme.”
He was a man famous for the somewhat peculiar epithet 'Radalando,' said to be earned because he wielded his saber like flowing silk or rippling waves. Since he was such a famous figure, everyone nodded at my words. To any saber practitioner, he was an idol.
“Radalando Heedonggu said: 'I am still hungry.' What do you think that supreme master was so hungry for?”
After a brief silence, the crowd began to shout out their own answers.
“Victory!”
“No, it must be martial studies!”
“Is it not the Way of the Martial Arts?”
Even though I hadn't explicitly asked for an answer, they clamored from all sides to offer their interpretations. I loved throwing out a topic and then weaving a narrative to fit it. The internal power of my tongue had reached its zenith; I was at a level where I could spit out whatever came to mind, and it would manifest as a dazzling display of verbal techniques.
“A human being will always be hungry if they do not eat three meals a day until the day they die. That is the same for a low-level martial artist, a master, or an absolute supreme. However, the human heart is prone to change once the time for those three meals has passed. Was Heedonggu not warning us against that? Maintain your original intent as if you were always eating your very first meal. Pursue what you crave just as a hungry man seeks out food. Does it not mean to constantly train and polish yourself until the day you die, just as one diligently eats three meals every single day?”
At my words, the crowd gaped and looked at me with eyes full of deep emotion. Their gazes were almost like those of cult followers looking at their leader. Well, I did once have the nickname 'Cult Leader' as a joke.
“Young Hero Eo, I shall keep your words in my heart for the rest of my life!”
As one warrior gave me a respectful fist-palm salute, the low-level martial artists surrounding the sparring stage followed suit in unison, expressing their deep respect. Honestly, where else would these amateurs ever hear such grand words? Low-level martial artists are the type to be moved when shown a glimpse of the future or hope. It’s because even though they are low-level now, they believe they will become masters in the future. If you touch upon that sentiment correctly, they are easily moved. After all, one needs at least that much delusion to survive in this Murim.
I pushed through the crowd chanting my name and entered the temporary guest quarters set up near the sparring stage. It was the payout office where anyone who had sparred was given two silver taels.
“Eo Ja-seo.”
I signed the ledger and stated my name.
“I know. I just saw your match with the Smiling Face Sword; it was truly incredible. To suppress the Smiling Face Sword with just a single strike... Even though I couldn't see any Sword Glare, it was actually more thrilling that way. It felt like you were suppressing the extraordinary with the ordinary. It was so cool.”
As the clerk babbled his own interpretation, I gave a casual smile and took the money.
“You sound like more of a master than I am.”
Indeed, we lived in an era where martial arts critics received more limelight than the martial arts creators themselves. My fingertips trembled slightly from the nerves that had been frayed by the duel.
‘I need to get some sleep.’
A master finds stability through Energy Guiding Technique, but for a low-level martial artist, sleep is the best form of meditation. On my way to the guest hall, I sensed someone following me and turned around.
‘It’ll be troublesome if I’m already gaining stalkers.’
I turned back, intending to give them a polite scolding.
“It’s been a long time, Eo Ja-seo.”
Huh? Who is this, calling my name so casually? The only one who should be calling me out like this is that beggar, Tak-yeong. I stared blankly at the face of the guy who had called my name. He looked familiar. Where had I seen him?
As I tilted my head in confusion, the guy let out a smile that reeked of fishiness.
“It seems the illustrious Young Hero Eo has already forgotten this humble self.”
Seeing him be so openly sarcastic, could it be?
“A 'master' like you probably wouldn't remember me. You probably don't even remember losing to me in a duel at the Blue Fish Manor two months ago, do you? Isn't that right, 'Master'?”
I’ve lost more than once or twice. Out of a hundred duels, I’ve lost almost every single one, except against those who just entered the Murim. Wait... this is that bastard who broke my finger back then, making it so I couldn't even hold a spoon for a month!
“I am here to challenge Young Hero Eo to a duel.”
He approached me, speaking with such polite words, but the tone of his following whisper was entirely different.
“You little shit, acting like a master. You were whimpering after I crushed you two months ago. You’re acting way out of your league with those trash skills of yours. I can’t stand watching your little act. I’m going to expose your true identity right here.”
I thought it was strange how he was giving me a polite fist-palm salute while saying such things. Then I realized people were starting to gather around us. The guy smirked at me and drew his sword. He drew it so quickly I couldn't even dodge.
‘I see it now. This was his plan. He knows I’m a total amateur, and he’s determined to humiliate me here.’
His martial arts were barely at the second-rate level. However, two months ago, I couldn't even touch a hair on his body before getting beaten to a pulp. Luckily, that duel was with wooden swords; if it had been real blades, I would have lost a limb.
‘I knew a day like this would come. But you picked the wrong day, buddy.’
I gave him a relaxed smile.
“Have you never heard the saying that if you haven't seen a scholar for three days, you should look at him with new eyes? Furthermore, did it never occur to you that for us martial artists, the situation can change overnight?”
I tried to enlighten him politely. I was telling him to recognize the timing and back off quietly. But the guy just got worked up.
“Don't make me laugh. Did you swallow some Stalactite Milk? Did you feast on a Ten-Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root? Fine, let's say you did. Even a master would take years to convert that into internal energy. Are you saying you did all that in just two months?”
Looking at the light in his eyes, he clearly had no intention of backing down gracefully.
“Anyway, since you’ve become famous as a master, if I beat you, I’ll start getting treated better than I am now.”
Finally, he revealed his true motive. He couldn't stand seeing someone he considered inferior being treated well by others, so he wanted to throw a wrench in the works. There are always people in this world who can't stand to see others succeed.
‘If that’s how you want to play it...’
I wasn't the type to go out of my way to harm people. However, I never possessed the generosity to forgive those who tried to slander me. I hadn't had the luxury to feel such emotions since I was ten years old. If nothing else, I knew how to become cold-blooded to protect myself. How could one maintain romance and nobility while begging and surviving alone in this harsh world with nothing to their name?
Having already heard the footsteps of Sim Geol and So Gu-chi approaching from behind, I provoked him.
“Do you know the difference between a low-level martial artist and a master?”
The guy’s eyes widened at my sudden question. This fool, trying to screw me over when he doesn't even have the wit for a quick comeback.
“A low-level martial artist has to taste it to know if it’s dung or bean paste, but a master knows just by looking.”
As I said this, Sim Geol, who had been watching, stepped forward and asked.
“What is going on, Brother Eo?”
I replied as if it were nothing.
“Oh, he was just telling me that I’m a skill-less amateur pretending to be a master.”
The guy was already holding his drawn sword, which explained the situation well enough. The words I used were a severe insult to Sim Geol. Sim Geol was a man with immense pride in being a warrior. In particular, he had a massive inferiority complex about being 'low-level,' so he had a stubborn streak that made him charge in even at the risk of death if someone mocked him for it.
“Hmm.”
Sim Geol stared at the guy’s face with a heavy expression. Hey, Mr. Sim, you’re not moving yet? I guess I need to poke him one more time.
“He was asking where a piece of trash amateur gets the nerve to act up...”
“What?!”
It wasn't a lie. I just changed the order of the words. Before I could say another word, Sim Geol roared in anger.
“Is that true? Did you really spout such nonsense?”
“No! Why are you acting like this?!”
The guy flinched as Sim Geol exploded.
“If you have such great skills, why don't you try testing them against me?”
Sim Geol hadn't drawn his saber yet. Hmm, Mr. Sim, you need to be a bit more aggressive. I poured a little more oil on the fire.
“I am a low-level martial artist. A true amateur. But even if I am an amateur, I am not trash. And to say you’re going to break my fingers...”
At my words, the people gathered around began to emit killing intent toward the guy. Since everyone gathered there was a low-level martial artist, my words were incredibly effective.
“You son of a bitch! Where do you get off talking such crap! Fine, try breaking my fingers too!”
Sim Geol drew his saber and attacked the guy.
“What is wrong with you people? Wait! I have something to say about that man! He’s the one who lost to me in a duel two months ago! He’s so talentless that his finger even got broken by my wooden sword during the match!”
At those words, the people looked at me. I hesitated for a moment. If I lied, I’d be found out immediately since there were people who had seen that duel. In reality, you just have to add a little bit of creative editing to the truth.
“It is true. I sparred with him at the Blue Fish Manor. And I lost. Because he begged me to let him win just once. He said it was the only way he could get a job as a guard there. Since I don't care about winning or losing, I naturally did as he asked. But then, he went and broke my finger.”
“L-Lies! That man is lying!”
I fired back.
“Lies? Did you break my finger or not?”
When I suddenly pressed him, the guy got flustered and started babbling.
“I-I did break it then. But...”
The guy was busy digging his own grave. Sim Geol shouted.
“This is the man who looked at a technique I couldn't solve and enlightened me! Even though I call him Brother Eo, in my heart, Brother Eo is a Great Hero! You bastard! And you call such a man 'that guy'? And you broke his finger after he lost on purpose out of pity for your situation? Can you even call yourself a warrior after that? An ungrateful wretch like you has no right to hold a sword!”
Sim Geol, consumed by rage, lunged at the guy without hesitation. Finding himself in this situation, the guy actually cast a look toward me, pleading for help. His skills were no match for Sim Geol’s. Sim Geol had already gained enlightenment and shed his amateurishness, so there was nothing the guy could do.
“Brother Sim, what does it matter if a finger was broken? However, I cannot tolerate words that belittle low-level martial artists. Handle him gently, but make sure he comes to his senses.”
Sim Geol struck the guy’s shoulder with the back of his saber, knocking him down. The guy couldn't even manage a few exchanges before being suppressed by Sim Geol.
“Brother Eo! Do not worry!”
But the guy continued to grate on my nerves until the very end.
“You’ve all got it wrong! That man isn't a master! He’s an amateur!”
I responded to his words.
“You are right. I am an amateur. Even now, I consider myself a true amateur. But what is so wrong with that?”
At my words, one warrior shouted.
“Even though he is a master, he calls himself an amateur and breathes the same air as us. There’s a limit to how much you can insult Young Hero Eo! Don't let him off!”
Sim Geol looked at me and said, “I was going to listen to Brother Eo’s request and handle him gently, but it seems one or two hits won't be enough for this guy to wake up. I’m sorry, but I can't fulfill your request, Brother Eo! Besides, we amateurs have our pride. We can't let a guy like this run around freely!”
An enraged Sim Geol grabbed one of the guy’s fingers and snapped it. Since there were eyes on me, I shook my head with a sorrowful expression.