Chapter 9
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Setting the Order Straight
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When Mujin, who had been cooped up in his quarters for well over a month, finally stepped outside, his two younger siblings, who were in the middle of training, came running.
Tears welled in their eyes as the two children clung to his legs, and Mujin smiled, noticing they had grown considerably stronger.
“Brother!”
“Brother!”
“Have you been well?”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
Twins born on the same day from the same womb, they had similar features and a shared talent for martial arts.
Whenever Mujin saw the two children, who reminded him of his own siblings, he felt a sense of warmth.
“Have you made any progress in your training?”
“I’ve formed my dantian!”
“Yeah! I have a dantian, but Elder Grandpa said we can’t fly.”
At his younger sister's tattling, spoken with a disappointed expression, Mujin’s smile deepened.
“You want to fly in the sky?”
“Yeah. Jomu said so before. His father can cover over twenty feet in a single step and leap thirty feet into the air by kicking off trees.”
“Jomu?”
“He's the son of the master of the martial arts hall down the main road. He's a childhood friend from the neighborhood who used to play with the young lady and young master.”
At Masok’s explanation, Mujin glanced at Elder Jo.
“Elder Jo.”
“Yes.”
Elder Jo, who had approached at some point, answered.
“Your grandfather’s martial arts… was his movement technique a bit… lacking?”
At the vague question, Elder Jo tilted his head for a moment.
“I mean, was it a bit inferior compared to his other skills?”
“Not at all. The Flame Emperor's movement technique was considered one of the finest in all of Sichuan.”
“You heard him, right? If you train hard, one day you'll be able to fly much higher than that Jo boy's father.”
“But… Elder Grandpa…”
Soyeon glanced nervously at Elder Jo, her voice trailing off.
“Hey, Elder Jo.”
“Please, speak.”
“Is there a problem with the kids learning movement techniques?”
“Right now, they must first master and refine the forms and the corresponding footwork. Only after their bodies have fully accustomed to the forms and footwork of the Red Flame Arts can they learn the movement techniques.”
“Why is that?”
“That is because… I can only teach them the forms and footwork of the Red Flame Arts.”
Mujin furrowed his brow.
“So what are you trying to say?”
“I mean that I only learned the initial forms and footwork of the Red Flame Arts from the Flame Emperor. The rest is the secret art of the Yeomhwa Family. Someone like me cannot know the movement techniques of the Red Flame Arts. Once they have learned all the initial forms and footwork from me, they will have to study the manual themselves.”
“Ah! I see.”
Even if he was the family’s last remaining elder, he couldn't possibly know all of a martial family's secret arts. Nor should he.
“So these kids have to train using only the manual…”
Looking down at his two siblings, Mujin shook his head.
No matter how talented they were, there was a clear limit to what children who had just begun their training could learn from a manual alone.
Martial arts were not like academics; they couldn't be mastered through text alone.
Even if he gave the manual to the children, there would be far too much they wouldn't understand.
“Elder Jo. Bring me the entire manual for the Red Flame Arts.”
“What? Are you planning to learn it?”
“I would never learn such a worthl— *Ahem!* I've already begun training in a different sword art, so I can't learn a new martial art. I'm just going to read it and teach the children.”
“...”
Elder Jo’s brow furrowed with a troubled expression.
He was naturally reluctant to hand over the manual of the Red Flame Arts to Mujin, who suffered from a madness that had led him to renounce his rights as the eldest son.
He couldn’t know when another fit might strike, causing him to destroy the manual or blabber its contents to outsiders.
However, since Mujin's condition had taken a strange turn and he hadn't had any recent fits, there was no justifiable reason to refuse.
“Why aren't you answering? Does it pain you to hand over the precious manual of this failing family? If you felt that way, you should have just taken it and run off long ago.”
!!
“I will bring it at once.”
His face flushing, Elder Jo left those words behind and vanished from the courtyard using a movement technique.
“Young Master! Elder Jo is…”
“I know. That he's a loyal man. You don't have to explain it to me.”
“Then why?”
“If I don't do this, that sly old fox will start scheming. He wouldn't want to entrust the family's last remaining treasure to a mentally unstable head, would he?”
“...”
Masok couldn’t bring himself to deny it and lowered his head.
“But what can I do? The kids want to learn.”
Mujin smiled as he looked down at the two children.
Not quite understanding the situation, the two children simply looked up at Mujin’s smiling face and smiled back.
For them, just seeing Mujin smile was enough to make them feel that everything would be alright.
“Starting tomorrow, come to the training ground in the evening after your practice is done. I will teach you the movement techniques myself.”
When Mujin, who did nothing but swing his sword except to eat and sleep, offered to spend time with the two children, Masok’s expression filled with surprise.
‘Blood is blood, after all.’
“Yes!”
“Okay!”
Mujin ruffled the two excited children’s hair and began to walk.
“Let's go together, Young Master! That's not the way!”
Masok hurried ahead of Mujin to guide him.
Following him for a short distance, they arrived at a training ground enclosed by a large gate and high walls.
“Whew~ It's damn big.”
To Mujin, who was used to training in a simple clearing he had made by cutting down trees in the mountains, the training ground surrounded by high stone walls felt extravagant.
“Of course! This was once a place where a thousand warriors sweated and trained.”
-Creeeak.
The gate opened with the same impoverished sound as if it hadn't been oiled, and the gazes of the dozen or so warriors training inside turned to Masok.
Their eyes seemed to ask what the hell someone like him was doing there.
“We have company.”
The warriors’ gazes didn’t change much even when Mujin, the family head, entered.
They merely offered a perfunctory bow, holding their swords in a reverse grip.
“Um… warriors. The Young Master wishes to use the training ground, so…”
Masok’s voice trailed off under the warriors’ fierce glares.
“Why are you hesitating? You all heard me, right? I need to do some personal training, so you'll have to clear out the grounds. There's another training ground a bit farther away, isn't there? Use that one.”
As he finished speaking and moved to the center of the training ground, the warriors continued to stare at the two with harsh eyes.
“For men looking at their family head, your gazes are quite defiant.”
“Young Master…”
“In this damn family, everything is decaying, from the foundations to the people.”
At Mujin’s words, the oldest-looking warrior among them spoke up.
“Let's all step aside! The Young Master wishes to train in the mar.tial. arts.”
Seeing the man speak with a hint of a smirk, it was unthinkable that Mujin would let it slide.
In his past life, he had been a man who acted without hesitation, even with the Nine Great Sects as his enemies.
The Divine Demon was not one to tolerate insolence from mere third-rate warriors.
“Hey. You there. Stop.”
At Mujin’s command, the warriors’ feet halted.
“If a man has a complaint, he should say it to my face. Only petty cowards keep it bottled up inside.”
At those words, the older warrior's face turned red.
He had been with the Yeomhwa Family for 25 years, having joined at the age of 18 with high hopes.
He believed he had no reason to listen to such talk from a young family head who hadn't even been born when he first arrived.
“So what are you proposing?”
“What else is there for men who live by the sword when they have a disagreement? We fight.”
-Thud!
Mujin punctuated his words by slamming the iron sword on his back onto the ground.
Only then did the warriors realize that the iron sword he carried was no ordinary weight.
“Th-that's…”
“Could it be…”
Two of the warriors stared at Mujin’s sword with shocked expressions.
They were the ones who had personally carried the wooden box containing the sword.
“Young Master. No matter how far the world has fallen, there is no warrior who would draw his sword against his own family head.”
“I'm just suggesting we exchange a few moves and let off some steam. Why be so rigid? There's a saying: a dog that bites doesn't bark, and a dog that barks is a coward. If you're not going to step up, then don't bark anymore. I'm telling you to live like a scared dog with its tail between its legs.”
As Mujin finished and turned his back, the warrior, his face as red as an apple, stepped forward.
“You will regret this.”
At his words and the aura he projected, Mujin smiled, revealing his white teeth.
“Regret isn't in my nature.”
-Clang!
With a sharp ring, the warrior drew his sword, tossed aside the scabbard, and charged at Mujin.
“Eek!”
The sheer force of the charge startled Masok, who stumbled backward and fell.
But Mujin charged forward to meet the warrior.
‘Does he think I won’t cut him down just because he's the family head? Foolish!’
The warrior had no intention of pulling back the sword he had already swung through the air.
Though all the others were stuck at the third-rate level, he, the longest-serving member, had been a second-rate warrior for quite some time.
His internal energy studies were lacking, preventing him from reaching the first-rate, but the sword of an expert known as second-rate in the martial world was by no means light.
“Hah!”
The warrior let out a spirited shout, as if giving Mujin a chance to retreat.
But Mujin maintained his smile and only now extended his sword.
He had raised the heavy iron sword late; surely, he couldn't block the warrior's blade.
Just as everyone thought so.
-Kang!
A sharp metallic clang rang out, and the warrior’s eyes widened in disbelief.
What had been a mere thrust, a move too crude to even be called swordsmanship, with a massive iron sword, had suddenly filled his vision and knocked his own sword aside.
The mere contact sent a jarring shock through his arm, as if it would fall off.
He was amazed he hadn't dropped his sword.
-Whoosh.
-Flick.
The sword that had filled his vision swept past the warrior’s ear, slicing the outer rim and sending a spray of blood into the air.
-Thwack!
Retracting his sword, Mujin advanced and, in a move similar to the Mountain Crusher technique, slammed into the warrior’s chest with his shoulder and back.
With that single move, the warrior flew backward like a puppet with its strings cut, tumbling across the ground.
“Brother!”
“Captain!”
The warriors shouted his name and rushed to his side.
“That was a cowardly move!”
One warrior, seeing his captain covered in dirt, yelled at Mujin.
“Cowardly? How so?”
Mujin had blocked his opponent’s sword in a single move and, as an act of mercy, had taken his strength instead of his life.
If this had been a real enemy, he would have split his face vertically and killed him.
But to the warriors, it looked as though Mujin had taken advantage of their captain, who had held back, by ramming him with his body.
Just as the warrior was about to erupt at Mujin’s brazen question.
“Silence! It's… my loss.”
“Captain!”
“I said, shut your mouth.”
“...”
“…Young Master. Thank you for your consideration.”
“Good that you know. Now leave. I need to train.”
The warrior barely managed to lift his sword hand in a salute.
Seeing his sword arm trembling, Mujin gestured for them to leave, and the other warriors helped their captain out of the training ground.
“Young Master, how did you…”
“You too, get out.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Stop asking useless questions and get out. I need to train.”
“Ah, yes!”
Masok replied and hurried after the warriors.
Once outside, the warriors bombarded their captain with questions.
“Even if he is the family head, isn't this going too far?”
“Why did you stop us, Captain?”
“On this occasion, we should have just…”
“Just what?”
At the words of Cheolbo-in, captain of the Blade Unit, the only martial force in the Yeomhwa Family, the warrior who had been about to continue trailed off, then lowered his voice.
“I was just saying we should have confronted him and left.”
“And do you have the skill to 'confront him'?”
“Of course I do! You were holding back, Captain! And he didn't even realize…”
“Holding back? Who was holding back? I swung that sword intending to inflict a serious injury.”
At Cheolbo-in’s words, everyone’s eyes widened.
“I-is that true?”
“Do I look like a man who spouts lies?”
“That’s… no, but…”
A silence fell over the group at his words.
The one who finally broke the heavy silence was Sama-pil, the second-longest serving warrior, who called Cheolbo-in ‘brother.’
“Come to think of it… that sword. It didn't look like it had an ordinary weight…”
“It’s probably the item the two of us carried last time. One of the three iron swords they said were forged at the blacksmith for a full nyang of gold.”
“My back ached for days after carrying that thing, so I'm sure of it.”
At the two warriors’ words, Cheolbo-in nodded.
The mere impact had made his arm ring as if he’d struck a boulder, and the force that had deflected his sword afterward was incredibly powerful.
He had never even heard of a saber user wielding a weapon that heavy.
“I don't know what kind of fortuitous encounter he had, but the Young Master… no. It seems the Family Head has had a fortuitous encounter.”
Correcting his term of address to "Family Head," Cheolbo-in walked away with a smile unbefitting a defeated man.
As the other warriors followed him and disappeared, only Masok remained behind, lost in deep thought.
‘A fortuitous encounter? A fortuitous encounter… But there was never any time for that…’
How could Mujin have had some fortuitous encounter without him knowing, when he was almost always by his side except when he was training?
“Whatever it is, it's a good thing.”
His solitary murmur hung in the air before fading away.