Day 20. (1) Confirmation
It had been a fortnight since he taught his disciples their new martial arts. In the courtyard where the morning dew hadn't yet dried, the three disciples stood in a neat line.
Seorin had been inwardly worried over the past fifteen days, watching her skin chafe because she couldn't properly neutralize the herbs' toxins. But now, the dark, necrotic poison at her fingertips had completely faded. No presence could be felt from Chohee standing before him. Her breathing and body heat had blended seamlessly into the surrounding air—she had clearly grasped the essence of hidden form. Hwaran, bearing hundreds of jin of iron weights, maintained her calm breaths as well. Circulating her inner energy ceaselessly beneath her skin to protect her body, she was worlds apart from the staggering figure of ten days ago.
He barely suppressed a laugh that threatened to escape. Just a fortnight. The realms that had taken him half a year to reach, his disciples had broken through in a mere fortnight.
"Good. Very good."
Yes, it was a feat too precious to merely behold. He rose from his seat and walked to the center of the training ground.
"Today, your master will personally verify the achievements you've gained. Step forward one by one. Let's exchange a few light forms, very lightly."
At his words, Seorin stepped forward first.
Fifteen days ago, he had bestowed upon Seorin something special atop Wudang's basic swordsmanship. A method to refine poison with Wudang's pure energy, then infuse that refined poison back into the sword qi. Damro Geombeop, born from merging Cheongsimnok—one of the poison arts he had acquired wandering the martial world—and one of Wudang's sword forms.
"Show me your achievement."
No sooner had he spoken than a faint purple mist gathered over Seorin's blade. As a sweet fragrance spread, a sharp green qi burst forth. The moment the scent touched his nose, a long-forgotten memory flashed by. Sweetness hiding a bitter edge. He knew this smell. From long ago, so very long ago—
He always wore the same fragrance as me. Smiling over teacups, asking if he could call me that.
"…Hoo."
He shook it off. Now was the time to assess his disciple's progress. The buried past could stay buried.
"You've succeeded in infusing the energy of Haeyeol Sasimdan into your sword."
He lowered his hand and waited. The moment Seorin's sword rushed in—
Kkaang!
He flicked the flat of her blade with his finger. Seorin's body was pushed back, but in that instant, the purple mist coiled up his finger. The poison surged to invade his meridians in one breath. With a slight shake of his hand, the toxin fell to the ground, hissing as it evaporated.
"Excellent!"
No matter how many times he said it, a mere fortnight. In just fifteen days, she had extracted the essence of a deadly poison and blended it into her sword qi—untouched by its effects herself. This was undoubtedly…
"You're on the verge of comprehending Natural Transformation!"
Seorin gripped her sword silently. Before her master, she could simply rejoice, but it seemed she was acting mature now, minding her dignity. Her adult poise was admirable yet bittersweet. But what could he do? They couldn't remain children forever. That was merely his own selfish desire.
"Next, Chohee-ya."
Chohee bowed her head and took a step forward.
Fifteen days prior, he had taught her something special layered atop Wudang's Cloud Ladder Grass Step. Not merely erasing her presence, but a way to lure the enemy's gaze and conceal the truth. Muhyeong Eungki, the signature technique he had wielded in his youth, now named.
"Show me."
Chohee raised her head.
And vanished.
Susuk. A faint air current stirred behind his left ear. A killing intent as light as a graze. The moment he reacted slightly to it, wind bent over his right shoulder. No, even that was a feint. The real one was—behind!
Swik.
He ducked his head instinctively. A metallic ring sliced the air as a three-chi silver needle whistled over his head. Simultaneously, his left side. No, another feint. The true Chohee was—flying overhead.
"Impressive!"
Amazed inwardly, he flicked his sleeve. Taktaktaktak— Dozens of silver needles and two daggers she had unleashed were sucked neatly into his sleeve. Chohee landed lightly on the ground after passing him.
"Have you already made Muhyeong Eungki your own?"
The skill of casting false presences to deceive foes. Even a master at her realm would be helpless.
"Finally, Hwaran."
To Hwaran, he had given shackles of hundreds of jin—and the method to conquer them. Cheolgeuk Gong. A custom art blending his insights with a technique gained from slaying a demonic lord of old, made solely for her.
"Let me see it onc—"
Before he finished, Hwaran clasped her fists before her chest. Her inner energy surged fiercely to her limbs.
"Here I come."
The instant she stomped—
Kwang—!!
The training ground cracked like a spiderweb, propelling her body forward in a breath. Her fist aimed at his solar plexus. He didn't dodge, merely extending his palm to receive it.
Peueong—!!
A dull explosion rang out. The shock of her inner energy combined with the iron weights pierced his protective qi, traveling from palm to shoulder.
"Excellent."
He slowly pried open her fist.
"When you first ran the training ground with those shackles, your knees buckled in less than one ke. But now…"
Cheolgeureuk, cheolgeureuk.
Despite the intense motion, Hwaran's stance didn't waver.
"You show no strain at all. To gain such control over your energy circulation in this short time… I'm proud of you."
Hwaran's breath grew ragged at his praise.
He turned to face his three disciples.
"Excellent. All of you."
Hands behind his back, he continued.
"Damro Geombeop, Muhyeong Eungki, Cheolgeuk Gong. All taught by me—"
He paused, gazing at the clear blue sky.
"Yet you'll surpass what I taught in no time. Hahaha."
Had he ever felt such joy in his past life?
"Now is the time when your own insights matter more than learning from me."
He smiled at his disciples.
"From now on, train against each other. Your master will only watch from the side."
The satisfied master moved to the veranda at the edge of the training ground. As he lifted his teacup, the disciples' gazes intertwined in the air. Amid breaths they couldn't even properly draw, Seorin sent the first jeon-eum.
Terror laced Seorin's telepathic message.
Chohee's telepathy followed bitterly.
Their grim gazes turned to Hwaran last. Hundreds of jin of iron, yet her breath unflustered—an abnormal state.
Hwaran feigned composure, but couldn't hide the tremor in her telepathy.
Hoo. Even before that monster's gaze, Hwaran finally exhaled heavily.
A poison-spewing poison person, a backstabbing hunting dog. And a living inner pellet. That monster had divided their roles meticulously from the start, raising them accordingly.
At Chohee's trembling telepathy, Seorin hardened her expression and continued.
Their gazes returned to the veranda.
"What are you all standing around blankly for? Get started."
At the master's genial urging over his tea, the three drew their weapons with pallid faces.
And just before the spar began, Hwaran turned her head toward the veranda.
The master cradled his teacup in both hands, not looking their way. Gazing at the clear sky.
Just like that dawn ten days ago in the training ground.
'Your steps look much lighter today.'
That voice echoed in her ears. The monster's voice. Undoubtedly.
But in that dawn ten days past, when the shackles' weight first felt light, those words held—
No poison, no killing intent, no calculation.
The fact that she felt none terrified her more.
'Or—'
She shook her head, banishing the thought. Digging deeper might drive her mad.
Hwaran withdrew her gaze from the master.
Seorin's gaze lingered on Hwaran briefly before shifting away. Three weapons clashed in the air. Sword clashes echoed across the training ground, and on the veranda, the master tilted his teacup with a satisfied smile.
To outward eyes, it was just another sparring session, no different from usual.
Even as Hwaran thrust her fist toward her seniors, she couldn't shake that voice from ten days ago.