With That Level of Skill? (4)
Jo Pyeong’s eyes widened in disbelief.
He had won.
His son, Jo Gul, had defeated that Dang Jan.
But Jo Pyeong still could not bring himself to accept what he had just seen.
Who was Dang Jan?
He was from the Sichuan Dang Family, which ruled Sichuan. Even within the Dang Family, where only blood relatives truly mattered, Dang Jan belonged to the direct line.
His skill needed no proof, and his reputation did not stop at Sichuan’s borders.
And yet he had just lost to Jo Pyeong’s son.
How on earth did this happen?
He had sent his son to Mount Hua not because he possessed any extraordinary talent for the sword—
No, no!
Of course he had talent!
Because he had talent, hadn’t Jo Pyeong sent the boy to the sword sect instead of making him become a merchant?
But was that talent really enough to defeat a direct heir of the Dang Family with a sword?
No.
Jo Pyeong was certain of it. Even if people accused him of underestimating his own son, there was nothing he could do about that. As a merchant, accurately judging another’s worth was his livelihood.
He loved the boy, of course, but no one knew better than Jo Pyeong that Jo Gul was not the kind of prodigy people made legends out of.
And yet that son of his had defeated Dang Jan.
That Dang Jan.
“……”
He knew he ought to say something, but the words would not come.
Just then, Jo Gul withdrew the sword from Dang Jan’s shoulder and spun around on his heel.
Then, smiling in a way that even Jo Pyeong had to admit was impressive, he strode toward them.
“Sasuk. I won.”
“Yes, Jo Gul!”
Stagger.
Stagger.
“I, I won… Ah, wait… huh? Since when was there this much blood…? Sasuk, I’m feeling a little dizzy…”
“D-Don’t talk!”
“Gah! Sasuk! Jo Gul’s still bleeding from his neck! At this rate, isn’t he going to die?”
“An apothecary! Get an apothecary right now!”
While Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong were panicking and at a loss, Yu I-seol swiftly stepped in and clamped a hand over Jo Gul’s neck to stop the bleeding.
“Ah, Sago. I’m fine…”
“Don’t talk. It wastes energy.”
“Ah, yes.”
Jo Gul’s face went pale in an instant. He had won, yes, but he had lost too much blood from the wound in his neck. The final Yeoipbido must have nicked an artery.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Chung Myung clicked his tongue as he came over and pressed firmly on two points around Jo Gul’s neck.
At once, the blood that had been spurting out began to stop.
“Wow. If it had gone even half a cun deeper, you’d be dead.”
“Quit saying cursed stuff like that!”
“Jinx him! Jinx him, damn it!”
“You bastard!”
At the furious responses, Chung Myung stuck out his lips.
“I was just telling the truth.”
“Ugh.”
Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong shouted in outrage, but the person at the center of it all, Jo Gul, only grinned foolishly.
“Happy?”
“Of course.”
“That happy?”
“I’m telling you, yes!”
“Then lend me ten thousand nyang.”
“Fine, I’ll lend it— Wait, you little punk!”
“Tch. Didn’t work.”
Chung Myung clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.
He wanted to tease him a little more, but seeing Jo Gul’s white face and idiotically blissful grin killed whatever urge he had left to keep mocking him.
Not even when they beat the Wudang disciples, not even when they got their hands on the Honwon Dan, had Jo Gul ever looked this happy.
Mount Hua must have been that big a wall for Jo Gul.
Now that he had climbed over it, Jo Gul would keep growing.
In terms of raw sword talent alone, Jo Gul was not inferior to anyone in Mount Hua. If Chung Myung had never existed, the title of Mount Hua’s greatest sword genius would have passed from Baek Cheon to Jo Gul.
If this helps him blossom, that’d be nice.
What needed to bloom with plum blossoms was not only the sword. The people of Mount Hua had to bloom too.
Chung Myung turned his head sharply.
The three Dang Family members were there. Among them, Dang Jan still had not recovered from the shock of defeat and stood staring blankly into space, half-lidded eyes fixed on nothing.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
“……”
“Or do you need some more verification or something?”
Dang Jan bit his lip hard.
There were many things he wanted to say, but none of them would mean anything in this situation.
He had lost to Jo Gul—not to the Mount Hua Divine Dragon, not to the Righteous Sword of Mount Hua, but to Jo Gul, who didn’t even have a proper nickname yet.
An inexcusable defeat.
Dang Jan clenched his fists tightly. Humiliation, defeat, and a hundred other emotions swirled within him.
The thought of how far his standing in the family would fall because of this made his head swim.
Then—
“Here.”
“……?”
Dang Jan looked up.
He saw Chung Myung holding out a bottle of liquor toward him.
“A drink is the best thing when your stomach’s churning. Knock it back.”
“……”
Dang Jan’s face filled with bewilderment.
Is this brat mocking me right now?
He had thought him unusual, but to be this rude, this lacking in manners…
“You thought you’d never lose even once in your life?”
“……”
At the sudden jab, Dang Jan’s eyes sharpened.
Chung Myung had hit straight at his private thoughts. But Dang Jan refused to admit it, at least not now.
“What nonsense are you spouting? I’m not that arrogant. There are plenty of brothers in my family who are stronger than me.”
“Yeah. But they’re your older brothers.”
“What?”
Chung Myung snickered.
“You probably never lost to a younger brother. Never lost to anyone your own age, either.”
“……”
“There are plenty of people stronger than you right now, but you probably thought you’d catch up to all of them eventually, didn’t you?”
Dang Jan said nothing. He pressed his lips together and stayed silent.
Watching him, Chung Myung grinned.
Why wouldn’t he have?
At that age, every promising young disciple thinks the same thing: if they just keep growing like this, becoming the strongest under heaven won’t be a dream.
Chung Myung?
Well, he had thought so too.
I really never lost, though, so…
But most young disciples could not keep that illusion forever. Sooner or later, they would experience defeat and come to accept their limits. However…
“Do you really think someone who’s never tasted defeat can grow stronger?”
“……?”
Dang Jan turned to look at him.
Then he flinched.
This was not the playful, teasing Chung Myung he had seen until now. The Chung Myung who looked at him with lowered eyes and a quiet gaze carried a force that could make even Dang Jan hold his breath.
“Wounds heal and flesh grows tougher. Which means the body that’s never been wounded doesn’t get stronger.”
Chung Myung shrugged.
“The choice is yours. Will you use this wound called defeat as a stepping stone to get stronger? Or will you just rot away because your precious pride got hurt?”
He held the bottle out again.
“So? What’s it gonna be?”
“……”
Dang Jan stared at him for a long moment, then snatched the bottle from Chung Myung’s hand.
Without hesitation, he tipped it back and drank deeply.
“Khh.”
He grimaced at the harsh burn of the spirit and handed the bottle back.
“It’s bitter.”
Chung Myung grinned and took the bottle from him.
Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp.
“Kuuuuuh!”
After taking a refreshing swig, Chung Myung looked utterly delighted.
“There’s no need to be so disappointed. Right now, yeah, it’s embarrassing.”
He glanced sideways at Jo Gul.
“But soon, the whole world will know that losing to that guy isn’t something to be ashamed of.”
“……”
Dang Jan bit his lip lightly.
“It had better be so.”
“Of course.”
As Chung Myung turned to leave, Dang Jan called him back.
“May I ask one thing?”
“Yeah?”
Chung Myung looked back, his expression curious. Dang Jan frowned faintly.
“How strong are you?”
“Ha.”
Chung Myung gave a short laugh.
“Hard to say when you’re the one asking.”
“……Well…”
“Still, maybe.”
“Hm?”
The playfulness returned to Chung Myung’s face.
“If those daggers become twelve instead of eleven, then I’ll have to be a little more careful.”
“……”
Dang Jan stared at him in shock.
“You know that… how…?”
“Well, that’s a matter for the distant future. In any case, do your best. Then I figure even if you can’t beat me, you might still become the best in the Dang Family.”
Chung Myung gave a small wave and turned away completely.
“They’re saying the guests are leaving!”
And then, as if he had never been there at all, he disappeared back into the hall.
Baek Cheon watched him go, then cleared his throat and approached Dang Jan.
“Forgive us. He’s such an impossible fellow.”
“No.”
Dang Jan shook his head.
Strangely enough, he felt at ease.
What a strange thing.
There was no reason a brief exchange of words should have made him feel lighter, and yet it had.
Dang Jan cupped his hands and bowed to Baek Cheon.
“I apologize for my rudeness.”
“Think nothing of it.”
Baek Cheon returned the salute.
Even so, he could not help looking at Dang Jan with renewed curiosity.
How odd.
It was the first time Chung Myung had ever shown this much interest in someone from another sect who wasn’t a Mount Hua disciple. To be fair, he rarely encountered people from other sects in the first place, but still…
Then Baek Cheon’s gaze suddenly caught on one thing: Dang Jan’s hand as he removed his green leather gloves.
He had not noticed from afar, but up close there were countless tiny scars on his hand.
So he’s the type who works hard?
Impossible to say. Who could ever guess what went on inside that brat’s head?
“We’ll be heading back now.”
“Is this settled now?”
“Hmm… Even I’m not sure. As I said before, this is a matter for the family. I’ll just go back and report that I lost to Jo Gul. What happens after that will be decided by the family.”
Baek Cheon nodded.
“Please travel safely.”
“Then.”
Dang Jan gathered up the Yeoipbido that had fallen to the floor and turned around.
“Let’s go!”
“Yes, Brother!”
Dang Myung hoisted the collapsed Dang Ho onto his back and followed after Dang Jan.
The Mount Hua disciples watching them all let out a collective sigh.
“That was like a storm.”
“Do you think the Dang Family will just let this go, Sasuk?”
“Who knows.”
Baek Cheon scratched his chin.
The Sichuan Dang Family never forgets even the smallest grudge.
Dang Jan might seem to have no lingering resentment, but he could not speak for the whole Dang Family. Regardless of his own wishes, the family would surely move to settle this matter.
Baek Cheon let out a deep sigh.
“That brat has gone and caused trouble again.”
“……”
“……”
Jo Gul and Yoon Jong stared at Baek Cheon in dumbfounded silence.
“Sasuk is the one causing trou—”
“Let’s go in. We need to treat your wounds.”
“No, the one who started this whole thing was Sasuk—”
“Ahem. You should stop talking. Your injury is deep.”
“……”
“Kuhuhuhm!”
Baek Cheon coughed loudly, then strode off toward the inner hall.
The remaining Yu I-seol and the third-generation disciples looked at one another.
“……Sahyung.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t you think Sasuk has been acting a little strange lately?”
“……Lately? Just a little?”
“……”
“Sigh. What’s Mount Hua going to become?”
The three left behind all sighed at once.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Returning to his room to escape the commotion, Chung Myung poured himself a drink in an uncharacteristically quiet manner.
Then he set the cup down gently on the other side of the table.
There was no one across from him. But Chung Myung still lifted the bottle slightly and made a small toast, as if someone were sitting there.
“He looked a lot like him.”
Chung Myung laughed softly.
Dang Jan’s face had stirred up old memories.
Long ago. Very long ago.
Yes. So very long ago.
“No, Daoist brother! I told you to leave some for me too! No one’s better than me at sticking a knife into those Demonic Sect bastards’ backs!”
“Those goddamn bastards turned Sichuan into a wasteland! I’m never letting those monsters go back with a clean conscience!”
“Are you really a Daoist, brother? I swear, I’ve never seen a horse-nose Daoist like you in my life— Wait, put that sword down! What kind of person talks with a sword instead of his mouth? Aaaagh!”
“Brother… the Dang Family… the Dang Family… my nephews… please…”
Thud.
Chung Myung set the bottle down a little roughly and closed his eyes.
Mount Hua had fought the Demonic Sect with everything it had.
But in that long war, Mount Hua was not the only one who had fought with their lives on the line.
I’m sorry.
In the end, he had failed to keep that last request—to take care of the Dang Family. Chung Myung had died too. He could say that he had protected the Dang Family by cutting down the Heavenly Demon, but…
He knew better than anyone that such words could not possibly mean the promise had been fully kept.
“Your art is still being passed on.”
Twelve hidden blades.
The Twelve Flying Daggers.
For now there were only eleven, but one day there would be a day when twelve Yeoipbido flew from Dang Jan’s hand.
“Of course, Mount Hua comes first for me.”
Still…
“Don’t worry. If the Dang Family causes trouble, I’ll let most things slide once.”
For your sake.
Chung Myung picked up the cup he had set across from him, drank down the liquor inside, and refilled it again.
“Let’s have a drink after so long. It won’t taste the way it used to, but still.”
A bitter smile touched Chung Myung’s lips.