Chapter 264: Talent (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 264: Talent (2)
The society of the Murim isn't quite as stagnant as one might expect.
If you have the ability—specifically, martial prowess—you will be treated with respect.
Naturally, among the vast population of the Central Plains, there are certainly those who care deeply about background and lineage. However, they aren't particularly numerous. Besides, if your martial power is high enough, you can simply crack their skulls open.
Surprisingly, doing so is perfectly legal.
In this world of martial arts and chivalry, the value of honor transcends imagination.
"You scoundrel! What justification do you have for daring to commit murder in the middle of the city?!"
"That man insulted my sect!"
"Good heavens! Then you were right to kill him!"
It usually works something like that.
Of course, one must still take responsibility for their own private sanctions. If you kill the young master of a major Great Clan, that clan will naturally try to rip the head off the "crazy murderer."
In such a situation, there are several ways for our hypothetical crazy murderer, "Person A," to handle the fallout. One of the most common methods is manipulating public opinion.
— Actually, that guy insulted my sect, said something about my father, mocked my swordsmanship... So anyway, if I die, it’s entirely their fault!
For small to medium-sized sects where relationships with neighboring factions are vital, this kind of rumor mill can be quite a headache.
Of course, the offended party has many other options: they could send assassins, debunk Person A’s claims to justify a formal execution, or simply ignore their reputation altogether and hunt him down. Surviving those schemes depends entirely on Person A’s own capabilities. (Though, in the end, there is a high probability that Person A just ends up dead.)
If you dislike that kind of tightrope walking, another method is to flee to a place where no one knows your face. This actually offers Person A a relatively high chance of survival. The Central Plains are vast; cross just one or two provinces, and no one will have a clue who Person A is.
If Person A is a master of such caliber that his identity is recognizable even from that far away, things actually become much easier. (In that case, he has the option of simply erasing the bothersome sect from existence.)
Assuming one can swallow their pride, wouldn't fleeing fall under the category of a fairly rational choice? You’ve killed the person you hated, and now you can start a fresh life in a new place.
However, if none of the above strategies appeal to you, yet another option is to seek refuge with a rival power...
"No, wait. Why are you suddenly telling me all this?"
At Chun-bong’s question, Seo-jun gestured with his chin toward Bi-yeon.
"So she can listen and learn."
* * *
In truth, Seo-jun's lecture wasn't immediately helpful to Bi-yeon.
The first example, in particular, only worked because Righteous Faction sects actually cared about saving face. For the friends of the Black Path, honor meant nothing. If someone killed one of their own, they’d come looking for blood with blades drawn immediately.
"In your case, your goal is revenge, right?"
"Y-yes..."
Bi-yeon nodded. Her voice was small, but the fervor burning in her eyes was anything but.
"Since almost no one cares if a Black Path sect gets wiped out... it’s a simple matter once you possess a certain level of martial power."
The problem, however, was attaining that "certain level" of power.
Let’s think optimistically and assume the leader of that Black Path sect is a First-rate warrior—someone who counts as a decent master. In that case, how long would it take for Bi-yeon to reach the First-rate stage?
Chun-bong pondered with a furrowed brow before answering.
"Uh... thirty years?"
"Be honest."
"Sixty years...?"
"Are you sure you're being honest?"
"She might never get there in her lifetime..."
Listening from the side, Bi-yeon’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
Seo-jun, who had reached the Peak Realm after roughly a year of learning martial arts, merely shrugged.
"Don't you want to try learning something else? A spear, a saber, or maybe just a pure Qi Art?"
"I, uh..."
Though hesitating, Bi-yeon did not bend her will.
"...I want to take revenge using my sect's martial arts."
Bi-yeon knew she was being rude. She knew this was a heaven-sent opportunity, like a golden rope lowered from the sky. She knew that because of her presumptuous words, their desire to help her might vanish entirely.
But Bi-yeon did not change her mind.
The martial arts of the Yangrok Sect. Though they were nothing special, that "nothing special" was the very soul of the Yangrok Sect.
Therefore, her revenge had to be carried out with the Yangrok Sect's martial arts. If not... it felt as though her heart would break along with the soul of her sect.
"Is that so?"
Contrary to Bi-yeon’s expectations, Seo-jun nodded nonchalantly. Then, he looked at Chun-bong, who was currently pouting in Namgung Su-ah’s arms.
"Hey, Chun-bu-i."
"What."
A prickly response popped out of Chun-bong. She was sulking because she’d been scolded by Namgung Su-ah all thanks to a joke Seo-jun had made.
Still, after hearing the truth of the incident, Namgung Su-ah had felt so sorry she hadn't known what to do. Her subsequent display of her secret technique (Mount Tai Pressure Peak)—delivered in the form of a tight hug—seemed to have cheered Chun-bong up considerably.
Seo-jun chuckled and said, "For now, you keep teaching her. I'll think of something on my end."
Chun-bong tapped the back of her head against Namgung Su-ah’s chest and grumbled, "Fine. But instead of worrying about that, you should do something about your Inner Demon first. You're going to be in real trouble at this rate, you know?"
"I got it."
He didn't think he was in any real danger... but if he said that outright, Geum Chun-bong might develop high blood pressure at a young age. Seo-jun nodded obediently.
* * *
How was he supposed to strike down this demon—something he wasn't even sure should be called an Inner Demon—when it hadn't even originated from his own heart?
Seo-jun, a mighty warrior of the Transcendent Realm, stated flatly to himself:
I have no idea.
So, he just watched Chun-bong roll the poor girl around.
"Gyaaaah...! No! I told you to just swing it!?"
Wait, was he wrong? Looking at them now, Chun-bong actually seemed to be having a harder time.
Maybe that's her talent instead.
Bi-yeon had a startling lack of talent for the sword. It wasn't as if she had a talent for manipulating Qi, either. It didn't seem like she'd be any better with other weapons. She simply had no talent for martial arts in general.
Seo-jun snickered as he lay across Namgung Su-ah’s lap, watching the scene unfold.
Namgung Su-ah looked down at him with concern. "Is your body really okay?"
"Yeah. As long as I don't use Primordial Unity, I'm fine."
For now, at least.
Seo-jun enjoyed the soothing sensation of Namgung Su-ah stroking his hair as he continued to watch Bi-yeon.
She certainly works hard.
Surprisingly, Seo-jun didn't feel much frustration watching Bi-yeon. It was a far cry from what Chun-bong had thought: 'Wouldn't the century's greatest genius, Lee Seo-jun, who insults even the heavens, die of a bursting heart from watching Bi-yeon's pathetic display?'
In fact, his reaction was only natural.
To begin with, there wasn't a single person—whether it was Bi-yeon or any other martial artist—who didn't seem frustratingly untalented to Seo-jun. Because of that, his initial thought of 'You just have to do it, so why can't you?' had long since evolved into 'I guess everyone is just naturally bad at this.'
In other words, since no one understood his teachings anyway, Seo-jun didn't feel anything special while watching Bi-yeon struggle. Everyone was equally incapable of understanding him!
It was then that Namgung Su-ah spoke up.
"Can I ask you something?"
Seo-jun nodded reflexively. "Sure. You can ask several things."
"You know the Heaven-Chosen Talent Art?"
"Huh? What's that?"
Seo-jun lifted his head, his eyes meeting Namgung Su-ah’s.
"Ah, right."
Come to think of it, they had renamed the martial art at Seo-jun's request. Remembering that fact, Namgung Su-ah giggled as she explained.
"I'm talking about the Namgung Discriminator."
The Namgung Discriminator. Otherwise known as the Heaven-Chosen Talent Art.
It was an absurd martial art that could identify those with talent worthy of the Namgung Lineage, the Heaven-class divine art of the Namgung Clan.
Seo-jun had just whipped it up on a whim and tossed it to them, but for the Namgung Clan, who were now using it for various important affairs, it was impossible not to be deeply curious about it.
Only then did Seo-jun nod in understanding. "What about it?"
"How on earth does it determine talent? I couldn't figure it out no matter how much I looked into it. Is talent even something that can be measured?"
"Ah, that? To be precise, it's not measuring talent... it's measuring suitability."
Seo-jun elaborated.
The Namgung Discriminator—the Heaven-Chosen Talent Art—was a technique that determined how much suitability a specific person had for the Namgung Lineage.
The elements required to learn the Namgung Lineage—for example, compatibility with the Namgung internal energy, the inclination of one's basic swordsmanship, and the texture of one's mental imagery—if these elements aligned with the Namgung Lineage to a certain degree, a "suitable" judgment was made.
To put it simply, you could think of it as a chemical substance that reacts when it meets a certain threshold of suitability.
When those elements are woven into the oral chant of the Heaven-Chosen Talent Art and flowed into another person's body...
In the case of someone with a suitable constitution, the Qi of the Heaven-Chosen Talent Art reacts with that constitution and glows blue. That light then pours out through the eyes along a predetermined path.
If there is no reaction, the non-visualized Qi simply flows out of the eyes, making it look as if nothing happened at all.
"Suitability for the Namgung Lineage... Well, no. I suppose it wouldn't be wrong to call it talent for the Namgung Lineage, either."
Seo-jun organized his thoughts as he spoke.
Talent could easily be described as having the suitability to perform a certain action without any issues. The words were different, but the core meaning was roughly the same.
Then what about that kid with no talent?
The elements she was born with weren't suitable for the "Martial Arts" currently prevalent in the Murim. But just as there are pros and cons to having a large or small frame, wasn't she born with a constitution suitable for something?
Then what exactly was talent?
According to that theory, no one is born without talent. It was simply a matter of whether their innate talent was useful in the current era or not.
"Hmm..."
Seo-jun fell deep into thought. He recalled his battle with Geom-gwang.
At that time, he had brought elements from his mental imagery into the outside world and unfolded multiple domains simultaneously. However, the technique hadn't displayed as much power as he'd expected.
Why was that? Since he had unfolded three domains—the signature secret technique of the Transcendent Realm—shouldn't he have become three times, or at least twice, as strong?
Seo-jun’s innate talent—his absurd intuition regarding Qi—instantly drew a conclusion.
In the end, it was because I was the one unfolding the domains. I unfolded three domains and then harmonized them. In that sense, it wasn't much different from the Ideal World.
The heavens, the sun, and the moon. Since all other elements were excluded, there would be some increase in power, but that was all. It would have been far better to unfold a domain together with a puppet.
Of course, regardless of the outcome, both were equally absurd feats.
Unfolding multiple domains as a single person, or creating another thinking entity—none of it aligned with common sense. These were things entirely without precedent in the long history of the Murim.
What made all of it possible was the ridiculous talent of the martial artist named Lee Seo-jun.
Then, what are my flaws?
If talent was suitability, then just as there are pros and cons to being large or small, Seo-jun must have flaws just as significant as his extraordinary talent.
So, he asked.
"What are my flaws?"
Namgung Su-ah, who had been lost in thought with a furrowed brow, reached a difficult conclusion.
"Do you even have any?"
"Ah."
He’d asked the wrong person.
* * *
This time, he found a suitable person to ask.
"Your flaws?" Pae Jin-gwang shrugged.
"Do I have to finish listing them today? I don't think there's enough time."
"Dammit..."
Seo-jun scratched his head.