Chapter 167: Red Flag (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 167: Red Flag (2)
How much time had passed? Fifteen minutes? Maybe half an hour.
Hwangbo Hye-ji panted, her face pale with exhaustion. Her sharp eyes glared at the man in black.
He’s toying with me…
The gap in their skill was overwhelming. Yet, not a single wound marked her body. At most, her clothes were slightly frayed.
As if to prove that staggering disparity, the man in black hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“It’s about time to wrap this up.”
The man in black didn’t even bother to keep his guard up. He approached her with a leisurely stride.
Hwangbo Hye-ji bit her lip.
Is this all I’m capable of?
A crushing sense of helplessness drained her strength. Her spirit faltered, leaving her paralyzed as she watched the man draw closer.
The man in black sneered.
“Giving up already? Well, that’s fine. It suits a pathetic member of the Righteous Faction perfectly.”
Hwangbo Hye-ji’s eyes trembled. Pathetic. He was right. She didn't even have the energy to deny it.
Still, "pathetic members of the Righteous Faction"? Those weren't words a wicked dog of the Black Lotus Union had any right to utter.
There were countless incredible figures among the Sixteen Major Sects and Clans. Her great-granduncle Hwangbo Jun, Young Hero Namgung Myeong, Senior Jin Gi-jae-cheon…
Hwangbo Hye-ji clenched her fists tight. She recalled the image of Lady Namgung, always so dignified. If it were her, she would have spoken her mind proudly, even in the face of death.
And yet, the words that escaped her lips belonged to Lady Geum.
The girl who was always brave and energetic. Hye-ji thrust her fist forward with all her might, shouting with forced cheerfulness.
“Drop dead…!”
The man in black flinched, his body jerking in surprise.
This was her chance. Hwangbo Hye-ji’s fist shot forward, straighter and truer than ever before.
Contained within that strike was the steadfastness of a great mountain, alongside the strict discipline she had long yearned for.
The two principles harmonized in a strange, profound way, exploding under the name of the Mount Tai Divine Fist.
BOOM!
The fist struck empty air. Hwangbo Hye-ji’s mouth hung open in a daze.
“Ah…”
The man in black, having avoided the punch by shifting a mere half-step, chuckled.
“Excellent.”
Simultaneously, his hand shot forward. Flashing Astral Qi gathered in his palm as it closed in on her. It wasn't hard to imagine what would happen the moment that starlight touched her. Her head would be crushed like a block of tofu.
Memories flashed through Hwangbo Hye-ji’s mind like a revolving lantern.
Mother, Mother. The woman who occupied the vast majority of her memories was always scolding her.
The memories traveled further back into the past. To when Hwangbo Hye-ji was just a child. To her mother’s warm embrace.
In those days, her mother’s words held no thorns. She always smiled when she looked at her daughter. Whenever their eyes met, she would open her arms, lift her high into the air, and hum a sweet little song.
Where did it… go wrong? What had changed her mother?
Tracing back through the whirlwind of memories, Hwangbo Hye-ji reached a conclusion. It wasn't her fault. Her mother had changed because of the damn structure of the clan itself.
The problem was the crushing external pressure that had forced her mother to give up her dreams and walk a completely different path.
If I am given just one more chance…
I will change it. I will make the red flag fly from the highest peak of the Hwangbo Clan.
And then, I will make sure Mother regains her warmth.
Flash!
Hwangbo Hye-ji’s eyes snapped open.
The man’s hand had stopped mere inches from her eyes. His gaze darted around before he awkwardly withdrew his hand and thrust it forward again.
Whoosh!
Hwangbo Hye-ji ducked without even blinking.
“Thank you, Senior Jin Gi-jae-cheon.”
“…Ah.”
Seo-jun, who had been lazily thrusting his hand back and forth in front of her face while waiting for her to finish processing her enlightenment, took a step back.
His mind raced.
Is it better to deny it here? No, that would be too pathetic. It doesn't matter if I'm caught anyway.
Having reached a conclusion, Seo-jun pulled down his mask. He had already quickly reverted his face—which he had altered just in case—back to his true appearance as Lee Seo-jun.
“Wow, how did you know?”
“I figured Senior Jin Gi-jae-cheon was the only one who would grant enlightenment in such a bizarre manner.”
“What?”
Seo-jun scratched his head. Hwangbo Hye-ji offered him a formal fist and palm salute.
“I think I finally know what my purpose is.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I will bring the winds of revolution to the Hwangbo Clan.”
“Pardon?”
Hwangbo Hye-ji’s eyes shone brilliantly.
“The reason my mother changed was because reality forced her to break her will. If I change that reality—if I change the clan itself—then Mother will be able to pursue her old dreams again. Even if she says she doesn't want to—no, that’s impossible. She might say that, but she won't mean it. Mother will want to walk the path of martial arts again. I will make sure she can achieve that dream.”
“Oh… well, sure… good luck with that.”
“This is no time for idle talk. Could you perhaps help me with my training? I need to increase the number of Iron Spheres.”
“Uh, yeah…”
It was different from what he had expected, but at least he seemed to have successfully helped Hwangbo Hye-ji find her resolve.
It seemed a bolt from the blue was also about to strike Hwangbo Seo-rin.
Well, that woman brought it on herself.
Hwangbo Hye-ji’s words sounded like she was going to overturn the family for her mother’s sake, but if you listened closely, it actually meant she was going to force Hwangbo Seo-rin back onto the path of the warrior whether she liked it or not.
Since Hwangbo Hye-ji would likely soon surpass Hwangbo Seo-rin in martial power, there would probably be a fair bit of physical coercion involved.
For some reason, Seo-jun could vividly picture a future where Hwangbo Seo-rin was being ruthlessly put through the wringer by her own daughter.
Well, the Hwangbo Clan… they’ll figure it out.
Seo-jun quickly shirked any sense of responsibility.
*
Seo-jun discarded the (self-proclaimed) cool advice he had originally planned to give Hwangbo Hye-ji.
Things like, ‘Believe in the Myeong-i who believes in you,’ or ‘The place your will points to is the Dao’ …
Even without him saying a word, Hwangbo Hye-ji entered a hellish training regime far more intense than before. Time passed, and the first match of the Yongbong Gathering semifinals began.
—Yang So-hong of the Dragon-Tiger Sect!
Yang So-hong had reached the semifinals despite coming from a small-to-mid-sized sect. His opponent was…
—Geum Hee of the Divine Sword Geum Family!
It was the adorable Geum Chun-bong.
The two rising stars stood facing each other and exchanged formal greetings.
“I look forward to a good match.”
“I hope to learn from you.”
As soon as the pleasantries were over, Yang So-hong suddenly spoke.
“Lady Geum, I used to respect you.”
“Pardon?”
Chun-bong blinked in confusion. Yang So-hong stared at her intently.
Yang So-hong’s faction, the Dragon-Tiger Sect, was a tiny school located in Hunan.
With a total membership of barely ten people, it was a place so insignificantly small it was barely even worth calling a sect.
“Who wouldn't praise your efforts to rebuild your clan with your own strength, even after the Geum Family was destroyed?”
“Uh… thank you…?”
Yang So-hong’s master, Il-pyeong, was a mediocre martial artist at the early Peak Realm.
He had recognized the young Yang So-hong’s talent and taken him in as a disciple, teaching him everything he knew for the sake of the sect’s revival.
This included basic spear techniques, the sect’s signature Dragon-Tiger Spear, the etiquette required in the Murim, and the virtues of humanity, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom.
Yang So-hong had worked himself to the bone to repay his master’s kindness. He exerted every ounce of effort, eventually surpassing his master’s level and reviving the Dragon-Tiger Sect by bringing in new disciples through his own sheer skill.
“The rising stars of the Sixteen Major Sects grow up walking a well-paved path laid out by their ancestors.”
“Hmm…”
“But you were different. Despite the years of vacancy since the Geum Family’s fall, you overcame that gap and are now considered a favorite to win the Yongbong Gathering.”
The Dragon-Tiger Spear was a technique meant to embody the spirit of the dragon and the tiger.
But in reality, it was just a mediocre martial art, only slightly better than the basic Three Talents Sword Art.
Yang So-hong and his master, Il-pyeong, had no choice but to agonize over this fact. It was because Yang So-hong had already completely mastered the Dragon-Tiger Spear.
The maximum level one could reach with the principles contained in the Dragon-Tiger Spear ended around the early Peak Realm. The moment Yang So-hong surpassed his master, he acutely felt the limitations of his martial arts.
To climb higher, he needed a superior technique.
However, the Dragon-Tiger Sect lacked the resources to obtain such high-level manuals. Consequently, Yang So-hong and Il-pyeong had set about dismantling and reconstructing the Dragon-Tiger Spear to create an entirely new martial art.
“I hoped a genius like you would light the path I am walking.”
“Umm…?”
“The realm I have achieved is that of an ordinary man. It is nothing more than a level anyone can reach if they just put in the effort. I have constantly felt the limits of my own talent.”
With his newly created Dragon-Tiger Spear, Yang So-hong had moved beyond the early Peak Realm.
He filled every waking moment with training, save for the bare minimum needed for rest.
Through those grueling days, Yang So-hong came to a conclusion:
Anyone could reach the same realm if they trained like him.
The only reason martial artists from small sects lagged behind the arrogant, lazy warriors of the great clans was simply because they didn't try their absolute best.
“But you are different. That is why I respected you. Because I thought you could be an inspiration to all warriors from small sects.”
As Yang So-hong’s speech dragged on, Chun-bong thought to herself:
What the hell is this guy talking about?
He certainly had a talent for making utter nonsense sound quite profound.
A talentless commoner? It was a cruel thing to say, but a truly talentless person could never reach that realm at his age. Especially not someone from a small sect.
Ah, well, I guess compared to Lee Seo-jun, he might be.
By that standard, yes, he lacked talent. If it were Lee Seo-jun in his shoes, the Dragon-Tiger Sect would probably have ten Divine Arts by now.
But that was a very, very exceptional case. If you compared everyone to Lee Seo-jun, every single martial artist in the world became a mediocre commoner.
In short, Lee Seo-jun was the freak of nature; it wasn't that Yang So-hong lacked talent.
And another thing.
Why on earth should Chun-bong be an inspiration to small-sect warriors? The Divine Sword Geum Family was a "Divine House" that stood even above the Sixteen Major Sects.
“Uh… so, what exactly are you trying to say?”
“I am disappointed.”
“Aha…?”
“I worked my way up here. I trained until I nearly died. But what about you? You didn't.”
Yang So-hong continued.
“In the end, you are just another martial artist leaning on the prestige of the Sixteen Major Sects. Instead of making the Geum Family shine through your own strength, you are trying to elevate your clan by piggybacking on the fame of Jin Gi-jae-cheon and the Namgung Clan.”
Yang So-hong glared at Chun-bong with piercing eyes.
“What are you even fighting for?”
To win a Spirit Herb as a gift for my brother?
Chun-bong scratched her head.
But Yang So-hong didn't seem to actually want an answer, as he immediately pressed on.
“I am fighting to prove that anyone can do what I have done. To show that a small sect is not inferior to a great clan, and that the names of the Sixteen Major Sects can be replaced at any time through sheer effort.”
“Ah, right…”
“You should be ashamed that you chose to walk such an unorthodox path when you could have achieved greatness through your own power.”
The arena buzzed at Yang So-hong’s words.
Some were moved by his speech and looked at him with burning eyes, while others looked at him like he was a complete idiot.
Seo-jun was firmly in the latter camp.
Is that just trash talk?
It had to be, otherwise it made absolutely no sense.
As Seo-jun watched Yang So-hong with curiosity, Chun-bong suddenly burst into a giggle.
“Why should I be ashamed?”
“…I suppose this was a futile conversation.”
“That’s not it.”
Chun-bong puffed out her chest proudly.
“It’s because I’m cute.”
“……?”
Yang So-hong’s eyes went blank. Chun-bong gave a mischievous smirk.
“So I’m allowed to do that. If you’ve got a problem with it, try being as cute as me. Then maybe a mysterious master will drop from the sky and work hard to help you out, too.”
Surprisingly enough, it was a completely true story.