Once More, in Retrospect (4)
The sun slid down beyond the Yangtze River, staining the world red.
Bathed in that crimson light, the swordsmen of the Namgung Clan lay sprawled across the courtyard of the manor. It was, admittedly, a strange sight—Namgung and “sprawled” were words that simply didn’t belong together. But what was done could hardly be undone.
Namgung Dowi looked around dazedly. Every servant and guard wore the same stunned expression.
Well, it makes sense.
The defeat itself wasn’t the shock. There was no particular need for wounded pride, either.
Mount Hua had become a sect no one could ignore anymore. However much they were Namgung, this was no longer an age in which being defeated by Mount Hua was a disgrace.
And yet none of the people here could seem to gather their wits, not because of the result, but because of the process.
Not a single one of them had won.
If they had all been ignorant ruffians who knew nothing of honor, then perhaps they could have shouted that losing a contest of movement techniques was no great matter. But unfortunately, these were Namgung swordsmen, and they knew exactly what shame was.
It must be a shock.
True, the higher-ranked members had been excluded from training because of serious injuries, but that didn’t make the blow any easier to swallow. The Mount Hua people who had beaten them so mercilessly without even breathing hard were no older than they were.
And more than anything else…
“Pfft!”
“……”
“Puuh—”
A vein throbbed on Namgung Dowi’s forehead.
It was the very outcome he had hoped for, and yet the moment he saw Cheong Myeong with both hands covering his mouth, his round eyes bent into crescents, a wordless irritation surged up from somewhere deep inside him.
“Wahahahahaha!”
In the end, Baek Cheon could not bear it any longer and gently admonished Cheong Myeong.
“Cheong Myeong.”
“Hm?”
“Mocking the defeated is not the way of a martial artist. Stop it.”
“Oh. Look at Dong-ryong, being all merciful just because he won.”
“……That’s not what I—”
“Oh, no? I can see your lips twitching. Why don’t you just say it honestly? ‘The Namgung bastards aren’t anything special. Maybe the Zhongnan lot are better after all?’ Go on, laugh.”
“……”
Namgung Dowi stared blankly at Baek Cheon.
Hey, sir? Why aren’t you arguing back? Why are you turning your head? Is there some reason we’re not allowed to see your face right now?
Sir?
Cheong Myeong snorted and swept his gaze across the group before speaking.
“Well, it was a little underwhelming.”
“……”
“But we won, so you’ve got no complaints now, right?”
Of course they shouldn’t have had any complaints. After all, this had been a fair and square match, and it was Namgung who had agreed to it.
But the human heart didn’t always move in a reasonable direction.
“Oh?”
Cheong Myeong’s eyes landed on one man in particular, who was glaring at him with obvious dissatisfaction.
“You got something to say?”
“……”
Namgung Dan looked at Cheong Myeong with a sour face, then said, “It’s not so much dissatisfaction as it is—”
“Hm?”
“I don’t understand why this happened.”
“Huh?”
Cheong Myeong blinked. Namgung Dan continued in a troubled voice.
“We have trained with everything we had until now. We forced ourselves onward, ignoring sleep and suppressing even the desire to rest. If we hadn’t done that, we never would have become Namgung swordsmen.”
“So?”
“And yet… why is the gap between us so huge?”
Namgung Dan bit his lip hard.
If they had faced this before Maehwado, perhaps he could have accepted it. But after Maehwado, he understood all the more painfully how cruel it was to be weak, and that was exactly why he could not understand this situation.
“We’ve already been forced to experience, with our own bodies, just how miserable the powerless can become. We can say with confidence that our will to win is no weaker than any sect’s.”
“……”
So they had given their all in this match, too. Not merely out of stubbornness. They understood as well that if Namgung Clan was to stand upon firm ground again, they had to work harder than anyone else.
And yet they had suffered such a miserable defeat that their insides twisted with frustration.
“What, exactly, did we do wrong?”
Namgung Dan asked with seething frustration. Naturally, his voice rose with the force of it. It was the sort of sight that would have stirred the heart of any martial artist.
But Cheong Myeong’s response was as indifferent as could be.
“What are you on about?”
He dug at his ear and blew through it.
“……”
Namgung Dan slumped at that blatantly dismissive reaction.
The Five Swords looked at him with miserable pity. They might have enjoyed it from the winner’s side, but they had seen this sort of thing countless times themselves, so sympathy came first.
Then Cheong Myeong crooked a finger.
“You.”
“Yes?”
“Get over here.”
Namgung Dan trudged forward to stand before Cheong Myeong.
“Come closer.”
“……”
He stepped closer still and stopped right in front of him, giving him a questioning look.
Cheong Myeong slowly raised a hand.
“From now on, I’m going to smack your head.”
“What?”
“Try to block it.”
“……”
“I even told you where, and I’m telling you plainly how I’m going to attack. You can block that, right? Of course you can.”
For a moment, sparks flew in Namgung Dan’s eyes.
There’s a limit to insulting people!
No matter how Cheong Myeong was a strong enough martial artist to defeat Black Dragon King, if he was openly telling him where he would strike and even how he would do it, then failing to block that would be absurd. He wasn’t even using internal energy to crush him down!
“Fine—”
BOOOOM!
Thud.
“Dan!”
“Good heavens! Namgung Dan!”
The Namgung swordsmen behind him nearly lost their minds and rushed forward in a flurry. They quickly lifted Namgung Dan, who had collapsed foaming at the mouth.
“A-are you all right?”
“He looks dead to me.”
“There were bells ringing in my head!”
Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue at the sight.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
His eyes, sweeping over all of them, were full of contempt. Then the rebuke came pouring out of his mouth.
“Willpower?”
“……”
“What kind of lunatic starts spouting that kind of crap? Hey, you idiots! You’re fighting with your life on the line—who the hell’s gonna half-ass a fight like that?”
“……”
“Willpower exists in the Evil Sects too! Where in the world is there anyone without willpower? What, you think if you all grit your teeth and work hard enough, the enemy’s just gonna get scared and lose on purpose?”
The swordsmen, rendered speechless, bowed their heads.
“Willpower only means anything when you’re training. Straining your eyes won’t make your sword stronger. That’s something you need to do on ordinary days.”
“……”
“And you’ve wasted all your ordinary days.”
At that, Namgung Dowi raised a hand. Cheong Myeong snapped his head around.
“Why… no, why?”
“Please speak more comfortably.”
“Hehe. How could I possibly—”
“……I think that would be more comfortable for me too.”
“Ahem. Well, if you insist that much.”
Cheong Myeong shrugged and asked again, “So, why?”
“Because I do not understand, Sir. I know it may sound odd for us to say this after the outcome we’ve just suffered, but Namgung training is by no means easy. We truly did our best.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you did.”
Cheong Myeong nodded as if acknowledging the point.
“Then why do you say we’ve been wasting our ordinary days…?”
“Because it’s true.”
“……Pardon?”
Cheong Myeong grinned.
“If someone who uses swords spends all day practicing punches, can you really say they’ve worked hard?”
“……No, of course not.”
“That’s what you guys did.”
Truthfully, this wasn’t something one could simply pin on the Namgung Clan as a fault.
Why was Mount Hua strong?
The reason was almost laughably simple. Cheong Myeong himself stood beside every single disciple and drove them as if they were in hell. But was that something only Cheong Myeong could do?
No.
Even if one hadn’t reached Cheong Myeong’s level, anyone who had risen to the very peak of a sect could absolutely turn a bunch of half-baked brats into proper swordsmen.
“Your elders failed to show you the proper path.”
Namgung Dowi’s face hardened.
“I find that difficult to accept. Our former clan leader cared for us more than anyone.”
“I know.”
“Then why…?”
“You don’t seem to get it. Caring for someone and devoting time to them are two very different things.”
Namgung Dowi stared at Cheong Myeong with a face full of incomprehension.
“For Namgung Hwang… no, for your former clan leader, the best way to care for you was likely to become stronger himself.”
“Ah…”
Only then did comprehension flicker across Namgung Dowi’s face.
Why had Namgung Hwang failed to properly raise them?
The answer was simple. Rather than pouring his time into developing those who had not yet reached the proper level, it was far more beneficial to Namgung Clan for him to become stronger himself.
And this was not a matter limited to Namgung alone. Every sect under heaven walked a path not so very different from this one.
That was how enormous the power of a single absolute expert was to a sect.
Mount Hua was no different. However much Baek Cheon grew, however much Yu I-seol grew, however much the disciples of Mount Hua might improve, without Cheong Myeong they would never possess the same imposing presence they had now.
“But still…”
Namgung Dowi remained unconvinced. Then how, he wondered, could great sects endure through the generations?
As though understanding the question, Cheong Myeong answered with brutal clarity.
“You really don’t get it. You don’t need to spend a lot of effort teaching your people.”
“……Pardon?”
“Just gather them up and teach them roughly. The ones who don’t measure up get filtered out on their own.”
“……”
“Namgung may be a clan, but most of your people are branch families. Of those branches, how many came to the main house after first entering the sect?”
“……Well…”
Cheong Myeong lifted a shoulder.
“Exactly. Those who enter, fail to beat the competition, and go back home—you call them branch families if they’re within the clan, or adopted branch members elsewhere. The ones who lose become offshoots, expanding your influence outward. The ones who win rise upward. That’s the basic structure of a great sect.”
“……”
Then how did the disciples of the lower generation grow?
There isn’t much need to grow them directly.
Once a sect reaches that level, disciples come pouring in like clouds. Among them, there are always some whose talent is enough to be called prodigious. Those talented enough rise on their own, and then keep rising.
Mount Hua had once been no different. Wasn’t Cheong Myeong himself one who had emerged that way?
“Then… Mount Hua is different?”
The moment those words left Namgung Dowi’s mouth, Cheong Myeong flinched. A moment later, he rubbed at his eyes.
“……Different?”
“……”
Namgung Dowi panicked at once.
Uh… wait. Is that tears?
“You asked if it’s different? Different? You’re asking if Mount Hua is different right now? Mount Hua?”
“Hey, hey. He’s broken again.”
“Sasuk, do something.”
“……”
Cheong Myeong wiped at the corner of his eye and muttered, “Yeah… easy for you to say, you landlord bastards, with disciples pouring in on their own. What would you know about the heart of a beggar sect that even has to pick up a man like Jo Geol and make use of him.”
“Why am I getting dragged into this too?”
“Jo Geol, shut up.”
“Honestly, I agree with that.”
“Huff.”
Cheong Myeong exhaled deeply. Barely regaining control of his roiling emotions, he looked at Namgung Dowi, Namgung Dan, and the Namgung swordsmen standing behind them.
“You don’t need to understand it.”
“……”
“You’ll know once you go through it. Besides, your side can’t afford to lose even one person from now on, can you?”
Cheong Myeong bared his teeth in a grin.
“So just leave it to me. I’ll take care of everything. Real well. Very, very well.”
“……”
The gates of hell had opened for the Namgung Clan.