I Am Still Your Wall (1)
Sharp eyes landed on Yi Song-baek as he returned to Southern Edge’s camp.
“You’re not smug over something that small, are you?”
“Of course not, Senior Brother.”
“Everyone here should be able to beat a brat like that.”
“I understand.”
Jin Geum-ryong glared at Yi Song-baek with eyes cold enough to freeze the air.
I don’t like him.
He hated everything about him: the way he stubbornly clung to an old relic instead of the sword Southern Edge’s elders had painstakingly forged, and that attitude that made him seem as if he wasn’t even listening no matter how much anyone said to him.
From start to finish, there wasn’t a single thing he liked.
If Chung Myung was an enemy he wanted to crush by any means necessary, Yi Song-baek was someone he simply could not get along with.
Opposites.
That was the word that fit them best.
“I don’t intend to criticize your choice to follow your own path in swordsmanship. But don’t you dare show me an ugly performance.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Go on.”
“Yes, Senior Brother.”
Feeling the sharp gazes of his fellow disciples on his back, Yi Song-baek let out a quiet sigh.
This is hard.
In truth, Yi Song-baek was a slow-witted man.
He had the will to follow his own path, but he lacked the ability to persuade others. All he could do was work and keep working until he proved that this road was the right one.
But the road he sought, the road to Southern Edge’s true sword, was a thorn-strewn path that demanded an unbearably long and grueling pilgrimage.
Once seated, he fixed his gaze on Mount Hua’s camp in the distance.
What do you think, Daoist Chung Myung? Am I walking the right path?
No one answered him.
He wanted to hear that answer from Chung Myung.
“I’m sorry!”
Dang Soso bent at the waist in a perfect bow.
“This useless disciple lost to Southern Edge. I’ll gladly accept any punishment.”
Baek Cheon gave a low cough.
Seeing that spirited expression, he felt proud and sympathetic at the same time. At times like this, as a martial uncle, he ought to say something encouraging—
“Soso. You did wel—”
Then someone stepped forward and patted Dang Soso’s shoulders hard.
“Good job! Good job!”
“Senior Brother?”
“In life, sometimes you win and sometimes you lose! If you have to get punished for losing once, then there won’t be a single decent person left in this world. Lift your head!”
Dang Soso’s eyes widened as she stared at Chung Myung, who was saying something remarkably decent for once.
There’s no way this bastard would say that.
Wasn’t this the same Chung Myung who had torn into Baek Sang with his tongue until the poor man looked like he’d lost his soul?
“I-I really don’t need to be punished?”
“Hmm.”
Chung Myung looked at her closely, then lowered his voice.
“Dang Soso.”
“Yes! Senior Brother!”
As Chung Myung’s voice dropped, Dang Soso straightened her back even more.
“Did you give it everything you had with the sword?”
“…….”
After a brief hesitation, Dang Soso’s eyes shone brightly.
“Yes!”
“Good. Then that’s enough. Next time, win.”
“……Yes.”
Dang Soso bit her lower lip hard.
“I will!”
Chung Myung grinned.
I thought she was just a bonus I picked up along the way.
As a swordswoman, he hadn’t expected much from Dang Soso. But she was doing better than he’d thought possible, enough to draw praise out of him without trying.
Looks like the others are getting stirred up too.
Dang Soso’s swordsmanship had exceeded expectations, and the Mount Hua disciples’ faces had tightened as they watched. They probably couldn’t stand the idea of being caught by the youngest among them.
A sect needed someone to poke at its backside now and then. If Dang Soso could fill that role, Mount Hua would only grow stronger.
After bowing and returning to her seat, Dang Soso hesitated slightly when she saw Yu I-seol.
“Sago. Um….”
“Water.”
Yu I-seol handed her the waterskin she had set beside her.
After a moment’s hesitation, Dang Soso took it and looked at Yu I-seol with faintly trembling eyes. Yu I-seol, expressionless as ever, said curtly,
“You did well.”
“Really?”
“But your wrist.”
“…….”
“The way you use your wrist when wielding a sword and when throwing hidden weapons is different. Think more about that part, and you’ll become sharper.”
“I’ll remember that, Sago!”
“Good. Sit.”
“Yes!”
Cheered up, Dang Soso sat beside Yu I-seol and began chatting away animatedly.
Watching that with obvious satisfaction, Baek Cheon turned to Chung Myung.
“Chung Myung.”
“What?”
“That sword Yi Song-baek showed just now.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I think that…”
Chung Myung snorted.
“Our Jin Dong-ryong’s grown a pair. He even noticed it.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Thriggle… Ah, hey, don’t you go drawing your sword again.”
Chung Myung stretched out a leg and pressed down on Baek Cheon’s blade as it started to slip free of its scabbard.
Then, with an easy laugh, he went on.
“Senior Brother’s right.”
“As I thought.”
Baek Cheon looked toward Yi Song-baek with a grave expression.
It’s completely opposed to Mount Hua’s sword.
Mount Hua’s sword was, in essence, a sword of offense.
The most dazzling sword in the world, the one that attacked again and again in the most spectacular fashion until it seized total victory.
Wasn’t Plum Blossom Sword Art often criticized as being too wicked and too heavy with killing intent for a Daoist sword?
By contrast, the Heavenly Edge’s Thirty-Six Sword Technique that Yi Song-baek had shown was a sword of perfect defense.
It blocked incoming attacks, then blocked them again, and again, seeking victory through absolute defense.
Watching the clash between Dang Soso and Yi Song-baek made that truth painfully clear.
“You didn’t think Mount Hua and Southern Edge had been snarling at each other for centuries simply because they were close neighbors, did you?”
“…….”
“Did you?”
“……Let’s move on.”
When Chung Myung shot him a look that said, What kind of hopeless idiot are you? Baek Cheon coughed softly.
Well, that was a little embarrassing.
Fortunately, Yoon Jong stepped in to smooth things over.
“You mean it’s because their martial arts are completely opposed to each other?”
“They’re close, and they’re both one of the Nine Great Sects, so they’re bound to run into each other all the time. But their martial principles are complete opposites. How could their relationship be good? When I beat that guy, it proves I’m right.”
“Ah…”
Among the Nine Great Sects, there were a few relationships that were a little awkward, but few were as openly hostile as Mount Hua and Southern Edge. Yoon Jong found it newly strange that such a bizarre relationship had begun with the interpretation of martial principles.
“But that sword only Yi Song-baek uses, right? The other Southern Edge disciples… well, they seem to use something closer to Plum Blossom Sword Art.”
“It’s a new sword.”
Chung Myung added what didn’t need adding.
“A sword meant to bring Southern Edge down.”
“……But to the eye, that sword looks stronger.”
“Only on the surface.”
Chung Myung’s tone was flat and absolute.
“The martial arts of a sect aren’t just about being stronger or weaker. All martial arts follow a certain way, a certain Dao, or a certain goodness. The moment a sect loses its foundation and pursues only strength, it eventually has to surrender that strength as well.”
“……So you’re saying Southern Edge will collapse? Like us in the past?”
“Mount Hua lost something.”
But Southern Edge had thrown it away themselves.
The difference between those two things was surely larger than anyone could imagine.
Chung Myung glanced toward Yi Song-baek again.
“Still, who knows. The collapse now may be unavoidable, but depending on how well the new seed grows, there may one day be a giant tree taller than the one standing now.”
Then, in a serious tone, he continued.
“What flourishes will one day wither, and what withers will one day flourish again. That’s how the world flows.”
Baek Cheon looked at him with a strange expression.
“The way you say that, you sound just like a Taoist.”
“True enough.”
“It doesn’t suit you.”
“……You two.”
Just as Chung Myung was about to snap, he only snorted and stood up.
“Anyway, I’m going to go pick up some money.”
“Ah! Before that.”
Jo Gul raised a hand and asked,
“So what you’re saying is that the way that Yi Song-baek guy turns out will decide what happens to Southern Edge?”
“Probably.”
“……Then it’s doomed.”
“It’s finished. No saving it.”
“Aw, man.”
Chung Myung tilted his head.
“Why?”
“Didn’t you look at the bracket?”
“What?”
Jo Gul smiled with a strangely satisfied expression.
“If you win today, your next opponent is him.”
“…….”
“Your Senior Brother is Jin Geum-ryong, and you’re facing Yi Song-baek.”
“Seriously?”
“Sadly, yes.”
…Ah.
That really was unfortunate.
Heh heh heh heh heh.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“You all did well.”
Hyun Jong smiled with unmistakable delight.
“Those of you who lost today may feel disappointed, but don’t be discouraged. In the long span of your lives, this martial competition is nothing more than a brief passing moment.”
Clink. Clink.
“Heeheeheeheehee.”
“Uhehehehehe!”
“……Loss may pain your hearts, but that wound will only temper you further.”
Clink. Clink.
“Heh heh heh heh.”
“Kyaaa! Kyaa!”
“……So don’t be discouraged and fulfill your dut… duties….”
Clink. Clink. Clink.
“Bring another sack over here!”
“Another sack!”
“D-don’t forget you’re disciples of Mount Hua….”
Clink. Clink.
“Dammit! You rotten brats!”
Hyun Jong hurled the fan in his hand straight at Chung Myung.
Without even turning around, Hyun Young, standing beside Chung Myung, reached out and caught the flying fan cleanly. Then he set it down at his side with a calm little tap.
“Why are you getting angry again, Sect Leader?”
At that infuriatingly serene response, Hyun Jong’s face turned bright red.
“Can’t you count all that money somewhere else!”
“We were here first, Sect Leader. Besides, you’ve been getting awfully authoritarian lately.”
Hyun Jong’s eyes wavered.
Me?
Authoritarian?
Beside him, Chung Myung nodded along and jabbed the knife in deeper.
“You’ve become a frog kicking a tadpole. Interrupting us while we’re counting money! If this had been before…!”
“…….”
Hyun Jong’s shoulders slumped.
At that, Baek Cheon quietly approached and placed both hands on Hyun Jong’s shoulders, giving them a light massage.
“Please don’t be like this, Sect Leader. We understand everything.”
“…….”
But whether Hyun Jong minded or not, Hyun Young, Chung Myung, and Wi Lip-san were, in the literal sense, holding a festival.
They sorted and counted sacks full of gold and silver coins, along with promissory notes, with hands so quick they were almost a blur.
“Ehehehehe! How much is all this?”
“Elder, the money we made in fees is no joke!”
“Baek Sang! Go bring another sack! Hahaha! The problem is where to store it, that’s the problem!”
“That’s my sack! Don’t touch it! Your hand’ll come off!”
“So fussy!”
Watching the chaos, Hyun Jong covered his face with one hand.
Are they not looking exactly like a bunch of black-arts bastards settling accounts after a huge gambling haul?
Seeing the three of them counting money with identical, crooked smiles on their faces made it impossible to tell whether this was Mount Hua’s residence or Chung Myung’s hideout.
And then…
Why is that brat mixed in there too?
Seeing Baek Sang laboring away beside Hyun Young made Hyun Jong so hot under the collar he felt like he might breathe fire.
“Grrr. On such a good day….”
Today, Mount Hua had achieved nothing short of an excellent result.
It was unfortunate that a few disciples had lost, but even so, they had managed to place ten disciples in the top sixty-four.
In a martial competition where all the prestigious sects in the world had taken part, having ten of the final sixty-four be disciples of Mount Hua was truly astonishing.
Moreover, the Plum Blossom Sword Art the Mount Hua disciples had displayed today had undoubtedly left a strong impression on the crowd and the other sects.
It was a double blessing layered on top of another blessing, and yet…
“……Yes. That’s also a blessing. It is.”
Making money was a blessing too. Making money was.
But after bringing in that much money, they still had the nerve to make the onlookers’ heads hurt! You damned fools!
Hyun Jong took a deep breath and spoke.
“In any case, rest well today, and do your best again tomorrow.”
“Yes, Sect Leader!”
“Hmph!”
Hyun Jong turned away sharply, as if he couldn’t bear to look at them.
Then, from behind him, a low exchange drifted over.
“Why’s he acting like that?”
“Tsk, tsk. Do you still not understand the Sect Leader’s deep intentions?”
“Huh?”
At Hyun Young’s faint rebuke of Chung Myung, Hyun Jong let a small smile appear.
At least there was one Elder who…
“He’s upset because you made all that money and didn’t even think to set aside pocket money for the Sect Leader! Stuff like that should be guessed in advance, and a proper amount should be slipped to him.”
“Ah! Right. I didn’t think of that.”
“Go on, then. Tsk tsk.”
Hyun Jong’s eyes rolled up.
Th-then why am I the one who has to be… I, me!
Just then, Chung Myung trotted over and slipped a gold coin into Hyun Jong’s robe.
“Spend it without the kids noticing, Sect Leader.”
“…….”
“Hehe. If that’s not enough, just tell me again.”
“Chung Myung.”
“Yes?”
“……Thank you.”
“Hehe. Don’t mention it. Hehehe.”
His stomach might have been turning inside out, but Hyun Jong was still Hyun Jong. He did not, after all, push away gold when it came to him.
No, really. It was fine to accept something like this, wasn’t it?
…Wasn’t it?